Sunday Morning Greek Blog

June 30, 2024

Touch of the Master (Mark 5:21–43)

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

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

Human touch has the power to12345:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well the air was hot and the people stood around

As the sun was setting low,

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

Came forward and picked up the bow,

He wiped the dust from the old violin

Then he tightened up the strings,

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

And then the music stopped and the auctioneer,

With a voice that was quiet and low,

Said what is the bid for this old violin

And he held it up with the bow.

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

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

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

So who’s gotta bid for me?”

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

Then the auctioneer stopped and he said with a smile,

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

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


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

May 13, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My heart rejoices in the Lord;

in the Lord my horn u is lifted high.

My mouth boasts over my enemies,

for I delight in your deliverance.

“There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God.

“Do not keep talking so proudly

or let your mouth speak such arrogance,

for the Lord is a God who knows,

and by him deeds are weighed.

“The bows of the warriors are broken,

but those who stumbled are armed with strength.

Those who were full hire themselves out for food,

but those who were hungry are hungry no more.

She who was barren has borne seven children,

but she who has had many sons pines away.

“The Lord brings death and makes alive;

he brings down to the grave and raises up.

The Lord sends poverty and wealth;

he humbles and he exalts.

He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the ash heap;

he seats them with princes

and has them inherit a throne of honor.

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

on them he has set the world.

He will guard the feet of his faithful servants,

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

“It is not by strength that one prevails;

10   those who oppose the Lord will be broken.

The Most High will thunder from heaven;

the Lord will judge the ends of the earth.

“He will give strength to his king

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

March 13, 2024

How God Loved the World: John 3:14–21; Numbers 21:4–9

This message was preached on the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B (March 10, 2024), at Mount View Presbyterian Church. Text is lightly edited for publication.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I’ve now added an e-mail option to the blog so you can contact me directly. scott.stocking@sundaymorninggreekblog.com.

“Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?” I think most of us remember that classic line from Raiders of the Lost Ark. Indiana, Sallah, and several workers have just opened up the roof of a long-buried crypt that was home to the Ark of the Covenant to reveal a “moving floor” about 30 feet below them. Indiana drops a torch down to reveal why the floor was moving: thousands of snakes. Of course, the best line in the movie comes right after that, though, delivered by John Rhys-Davies: “Asps, very dangerous. You go first.”

The Israelites must have had a similar response to Moses and to God when they had finally pushed God to his limit with all their complaining in their 40-year wilderness journey. The story is told in Numbers 21:4–9. They were impatient; they didn’t have any “real” bread; no water; and they hated what God had provided for them. Basically two million disgruntled souls who were trying to rough it out, knowing in their hearts they had to keep going for their children, because they had already lost their shot at dwelling in the Promised Land. God sent a bunch of poisonous, or “fiery” snakes to bite them. Some of them died, but the people pleaded with Moses and with God to save them from yet another judgment for their disbelief and unfaithfulness.

God told Moses to fashion what in Hebrew is called a saraph (שָׂרָף śārāp̄), a bronze serpent that itself must have had a fiery appearance in the desert sun, and put it on a pole so the Israelites who were bitten could look upon it and live. However, it did nothing for those who had already died. This bronze serpent was not an idol originally but rather something akin to a sign of judgment on the Israelites. It couldn’t save them from the pain of being bitten by the snakes, but it would save them from the poison that had entered their bodies. Something else was absorbing the fatal penalty of their disbelief. It’s a bit of a mystery why the word for the winged angels, or seraphim, of Isaiah 6 is also translated snake or serpent elsewhere. Regardless of the specifics of what it looked like, it must have fostered some measure of fear among the Israelites. “You can look at the scary bronze snake, or you can die from the real ones.”

As we read in our gospel passage this morning from John 3:14 and following, Jesus uses this story as a comparison to his own ultimate purpose for his incarnation. Even at the very beginning of the gospel, we get a preview of Jesus’s crucifixion and death even as Jesus has just finished speaking to Nicodemus about being “born again.” Jesus would be lifted up, but not as a king on a throne, a powerful warhorse, or carried on litter, but as a crucified savior on the cross. Look at the frightening image of what our own “poison,” our sin, has done to him and believe in God’s ultimate salvation, or walk away thinking it’s all over with and the cause is lost. Fortunately for us, the disciples did not choose the latter course of action.

This brings us to one of the most beloved and well-known verses of the Bible, John 3:16. “16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”[1] Most Bible translations put this paragraph from verses 16–21 on Jesus’s lips, but the NIV seems to think this verse and what follows is commentary added by John as he writes the gospel story. That’s a moot point, however, because regardless of who said it, it’s still true, right? Nevertheless, it seems to make sense to put these words in Jesus’s mouth, given he says some very similar things later in this gospel.

We can break verses 16–21 into two distinct sections. Verses 16–18 speak of “condemnation,” or the “perish” part of vs. 16. Verses 19–21 hearken back to the opening verses of John’s gospel by saying Jesus is the light. Let’s look at the condemnation section first and the conditions around that.

Notice first that Jesus says God’s purpose is that those who believe in him will inherit eternal life. This would have stuck in the craw of the Sadducees because a consequence of not believing in the resurrection was not believing in eternal life in God’s kingdom. Of course, this early on, the Jews may not have fully grasped that concept yet since many were expecting a physical kingdom and the overthrow of Rome. Eternal life is the opposite of “perish.” “Perish” at least refers to a spiritual death of sorts here, but it may also include physical death and perhaps even one’s own “extinction.” Jesus seems to have said this a slightly different way in Matthew 10:28: “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”[2]

Jesus also affirms the negative of this is NOT true, that is, it was NOT God’s purpose to have Jesus condemn the world, as such condemnation would lead to death. Only God the Father does the condemning. Although Jesus would have his fiery moments with the often times smug religious leaders of his day, his ultimate purpose was to get people to see a more excellent way, that of loving one another.

Jesus also says that people must “believe” or “have faith” in him. To some, that may sound like a simple mental assent to acknowledge Jesus as Savior. But the Greek word for believe (πιστεύω pisteuō) implies much more than that. It’s not just head knowledge, but heartfelt action as well. Another well-known passage from Romans 8:1–2 puts it this way: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.”[3] The “therefore” in Romans 8:1 refers to the arguments Paul has put forth in the first seven chapters of Romans, where Paul speaks of counting ourselves dead to sin (Romans 6:11), about the significance of our baptism (6:1–10), and about how our suffering for the sake of righteousness produces perseverance, character, and hope (5:3–5), among other things, all of which are demonstrated in the way we live our lives. Notice also how Paul describes Jesus’s role in all this in 5:15: “But the gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God’s grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many.”

We also see this in Hebrews 5:11–6:12, where the author says the new believers can’t keep living on baby food. They’re in danger of falling away if they don’t grow their faith and do the hard things and the necessary things that lead to maturity. It’s spiritual “adulting.” Ephesians 2:8–10 says we’re saved by grace because we are God’s workmanship, created to walk in the good works he’s prepared in advance for us to do. Jesus’s half-brother James says faith without works is dead and useless (2:20). The works don’t save you, but they demonstrate your faith. The more you practice that, the stronger your faith becomes and the less likely you’ll fall away.

Those who have a strong, active faith don’t need to fear condemnation, then, as Jesus says in 3:18. On the flip side, if you know you’re not doing much to grow your faith, those seeds of doubt and condemnation can start to take root and grow. Consider this: those who have been called by God are partners with God in showing his love. Jesus brings this home in the last three verses of our passage today when he says, “This is the judgment.” By judgment, he means here is the standard by which you will be judged. Let’s see what that standard is.

The standard, of course, is Light, or more appropriately, the Light of the world, Jesus, and his message. Jesus uses the word light (φῶς phōs) five times in verses 19–21. This hearkens back to the opening of John’s gospel, where John describes Jesus in verse 9 as “The true light that gives light to everyone.” In the first nine verses of John’s gospel, John uses the word light six times. The word is found 12 more times from chapters 5 through 12, with half of those occurrences at the end of chapter 12. But starting in chapter 13, where Jesus washes the disciples’ feet at the Last Supper, neither John nor Jesus ever mention the word light again in the remainder of his Gospel.

In the three chapters of John where the word light is used the most, we do see Jesus repeating John’s opening words in chapter 1 and his own words from chapter 3, no doubt for emphasis. Listen to the similar language from the three chapters, and you’ll pick up on why John stops using the word light after chapter 12 (all passages from NIV):

John 1:5: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

John 1:9: “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.”

John 3:19: “Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.”

John 3:21: “Whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.”

John 12:35: “You are going to have the light just a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, before darkness overtakes you.”

John 12:36: “Believe in the light while you have the light, so that you may become children of light.”

In those last two verses from John 12 I just read, Jesus emphasizes to his disciples to take advantage of every moment they have left with Jesus as he approaches his trial and crucifixion. By this point, it seems the disciples are starting to have some sense of what is about to happen, but they’re still in a fog about it. They do and will have the light, but there is no way they can anticipate the gut wrench from the events about to unfold among them.

Jesus’s final mention of light comes in John 12 46–47, and this is a fitting verse to wrap up this message, because Jesus repeats what he said about him self in our passage this morning.

46 “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.

47 “If anyone hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge that person. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world.[4]

Even though Jesus did not come to judge, I know it must have broken his human heart each time someone rejected his message. Jesus came to show God’s love and compassion to those oppressed under a strict religious legalism. But he also was not afraid to say and do the hard things to confront evil among his people and in the world around him. He knew he couldn’t give people hope if he also didn’t break the old order and establish a new kingdom in the hearts of his followers. As we approach Easter, let us be lights in this world of darkness to draw people to the hope of Jesus. Amen.


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

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

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

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

February 29, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

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

October 29, 2023

Living the Greatest Commandments (Matthew 22:34–46; Leviticus 19:11–18; Psalm 110:1)

Our gospel passage this morning contains the two most-quoted Old Testament verses in the New Testament. “Love your neighbor as yourself,” from Leviticus 19:18 of all places, is quoted directly 10 times, with one other allusion to it, spread across several books in the NT, not just the Gospels.

Psalm 110:1, which Matthew quotes in the second part of our gospel passage this morning, is the second most-quoted OT verse in the NT, with a total of 8 direct quotes of and another 10 allusions to the passage. But it doesn’t end there. Dozens of early Christian writers in the first 300 or so years after the birth of the church referenced the passage as well.

Jesus uses this verse twice in each of the first three gospels. The first occurrence is what we read here this morning, when he’s speaking to the pharisees during his last week before his crucifixion and claiming that he is the Messiah, son of David, that the OT points to; the second occurrence in each Gospel is when he’s defending himself before the Sanhedrin after his arrest and affirms his place as the preexistent Messiah and descendant of David. That was the statement that caused the high priest to tear his robe and accuse Jesus of blasphemy. Outside of the gospels, the NT writers and early church fathers use it to demonstrate his resurrection and appointment to the right hand of God.

You probably also noticed that Psalm 110:1’s popularity among early Christian writers pretty much forced the ecumenical councils of the day to use a form of the verse in their respective creeds; we read it every week here in the last part of the Apostle’s Creed: “He ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty, from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.”

Jesus knows his day of crucifixion is coming, so he’s essentially pulling out all the stops now as far as letting people know who he is. No more hints or subtle innuendos: by citing Psalm 110:1 about himself, Jesus is making the ultimate claim that he’s the Messiah come to earth. No stone will be left unturned before he breathes his last on the cross for our forgiveness, and one stone will be rolled away when he rises from the dead for our hope of eternity.

So we can have absolute assurance that Jesus is who he says he is: To the Jews, Messiah; to the Greeks, Christ. He’s the son of God, son of Man, son of David, three descriptions of the same person. He’s the one we can put our total and complete faith in, because we know how great his love is for us. And we owe him our very lives, dedicated to living out the hope he’s given us.

This is where we back up and look at the first part of our passage today for the two greatest commandments he’s left to us. Matthew and Mark place these commandments in Jesus’s mouth during the week before his crucifixion, while Luke has them much earlier, so it would seem, as a lead-in to the Good Samaritan parable.

Because these are the greatest commandments, we must of course be careful not to let the familiarity of these verses make them “trite” to us. Many of us recognize that these two greatest commandments come from the Old Testament. The “Love the Lord you God” passage comes from Deuteronomy 6:5, as Moses begins his final sermon on the Ten Commandments, in which we hear the oft-repeated refrain to “be very careful to obey all I have commanded you.”

This particular verse underwent a couple minor tweaks as it came into the New Testament. In the original passage, Moses says “with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength,” as the NIV translates it. That last phrase about “all your strength” could be translated “all your utmost.” The word translated “strength” there is most commonly translated as “very” or “great/greatly,” so it implies the best of the best of the best, the utmost of the utmost.

In our passage this morning, Matthew changes “strength” to “mind,” which is acceptable given the otherwise generic nature of the original Hebrew. Mark and Luke add “mind” to the original “heart,” “soul,” and “strength” from the Hebrew. Including the word “mind” here is most likely a hat tip to the prolific Greek and Roman philosophers, historians, and statesmen and the knowledge base they had accumulated. That doesn’t mean Jesus agreed with Greek and Roman philosophers, however; it just means he wanted his followers to have some intellectual understanding of how his teachings and way of living were different from theirs.

Now loving the Lord with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind is noble indeed, and should be first on the minds of all Christ followers. But then there’s that second greatest command, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Unlike the greatest command, which is found at the beginning of Moses’s greatest sermon, the “neighbor” command is tucked away in the middle of one of the most exciting books in the Old Testament: Leviticus, chapter 19, vs. 18.

Leviticus 19 reads very much like the Ten Commandments themselves, at least in the early going. But then beginning in vs. 13, after Moses gives the general command not to defraud or rob your neighbor, he begins to break down what that might look like in his “negative” commands. Listen to some of the context leading up to vs. 18, beginning in vs. 11:

11 Do not steal.

Do not lie.

Do not deceive one another.

12 Do not swear falsely by my name and so profane the name of your God. I am the Lord.

13 Do not defraud or rob your neighbor.

Do not hold back the wages of a hired worker overnight.

14 Do not curse the deaf or put a stumbling block in front of the blind, but fear your God. I am the Lord.

15 Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly.

16 Do not go about spreading slander among your people.

Do not do anything that endangers your neighbor’s life. I am the Lord.

17 Do not hate a fellow Israelite in your heart. Rebuke your neighbor frankly so you will not share in their guilt.

18 Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.[1]

So NOT doing these things to your neighbor, I suppose, is a passive way of telegraphing your love for them.

The flip side of this, that is, the positive way to state this, is found in other scriptures, notably Micah 6:8:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.

And what does the Lord require of you?

To act justly and to love mercy

and to walk humbly with your God.[2]

Proverbs 3:27–30 has some more sage advice about loving your neighbor with a mix of things we should and shouldn’t do:

27 Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due,

when it is in your power to act.

28 Do not say to your neighbor,

“Come back tomorrow and I’ll give it to you”—

when you already have it with you.

29 Do not plot harm against your neighbor,

who lives trustfully near you.

30 Do not accuse anyone for no reason—

when they have done you no harm.[3]

There’s no shortage of advice and commands in the Bible about how to love our neighbor. In the New Testament, there are nearly 100 verses about how to treat “one another.” If you have a concordance or good computer Bible software or Internet site that allows you to search, spend some time looking up all of the “one another” passages in the New Testament. It’s eye opening. All kinds of positive ways to love your neighbor: love, serve, greet, submit to, encourage, offer hospitality to, and so on. One interesting fact about this: the Greek word for “one another” (ἀλλήλων) in the New Testament is pronounced “all-LAY-lone”; the easy way to remember this is that “you’re never all alone with “all-LAY-lone.”

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that your quilt ministry, which we’re honoring today, is an important way to love your neighbor as well. Your painstaking efforts in cutting the pieces of fabric, arranging them in the various patterns, and stitching them together put meat on the bones of another scripture, Ephesians 4:28b: “doing something useful with [your] own hands, that [you] may have something to share with those in need.”

With all the help we have in scripture about loving your neighbor, you might think that’s always an easy task. But I think we all know better. Sometimes it’s very easy to love our neighbors; other times, there may be hurts or fears that run so deep that it can be hard to break through. There may also be times where “tough love” means we might have to separate ourselves from a situation because the pain or risk of harm is too great to ignore or too much for us to bear.

In those times, it’s good to know we have a God who loves us unconditionally and whose presence is always with us as we saw in last week’s message. But how can we as mere mortals love an almighty, all-sufficient God who has no “need” for anything from us? Just as God’s presence goes with us, God also desires our presence before him. He wants us to love and honor him with all that we are and could be, all that he’s made us to be, and all that we have, to the extent we are in-line with his commands and precepts.

Our reading from Psalm 1 this morning helps us to understand this relationship. The passage in our bulletin is, I believe, from the New Revised Standard Version. When I saw the first word was “Happy,” I actually cringed inside for a moment, because I knew most translations had the word “Blessed” for the first word. I had always figured that was the traditional word for “blessed” used by the Hebrews in their standard blessing: “Blessed art thou, O Lord, King of the Universe.” But I suspended judgment and checked the Hebrew, and sure enough, it was NOT the typical word for blessing. The word does carry the idea of blessing, but it also refers to an emotional state as well as a spiritual state. One lexicon I looked at had it translated as an exclamation: “How happy!” Eugene Peterson, the Presbyterian minister who translated the Message version of the Bible, picked up on that emotional aspect in his translation of Psalm 1, and I want to read that for you this morning. But I’ll give you a head’s up: if you’ve never read the Message translation, it doesn’t really read like a traditional Bible translation. In fact, Psalm 1 is about as far away from a traditional translation as you can get. The first phrase of Psalm 1 sounds a bit sarcastic, but it’s not intended to be. Listen, and you’ll hear why:

    How well God must like you—

      you don’t hang out at Sin Saloon,

      you don’t slink along Dead-End Road,

      you don’t go to Smart-Mouth College.

2–3  Instead you thrill to God’s Word,

      you chew on Scripture day and night.

      You’re a tree replanted in Eden,

      bearing fresh fruit every month,

      Never dropping a leaf,

      always in blossom.

4–5  You’re not at all like the wicked,

      who are mere wind-blown dust—

      Without defense in court,

      unfit company for innocent people.

    God charts the road you take.

      The road they take is Skid Row.[4]

That is how we love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind. We spend time with him by fellowshipping with one another on Sunday and throughout the week in our various ministries we have. We spend time in his word getting to know his precepts, statutes, and commands. We do things that bear fruit for God’s kingdom, for after all, Jesus said his followers would be known by their fruit. We “plant” ourselves in the God’s presence so he can nourish and sustain us, because that is how great his love is for us.

As the world around us continues to get scarier, with another mass shooting, a war in the Middle East that has Christians thinking about end-time prophecies and the book of Revelation again, and the general downhill spiral of morality around us, abiding in the presence of God and rekindling our love for him will become all the more important for our own spiritual security and emotional well-being. We can know without a doubt that God is with us; that’s an unfailing promise. We also know that his word will sustain us, for God’s word never returns void. Grace and peace to you all this morning. Amen.


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

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

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

[4] Peterson, Eugene H. 2005. The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language. Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress.

October 2, 2023

Obedient Sons (Psalm 25:1–9; Matthew 21:23–32)

Message preached October 1, 2023, at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE.

What does it mean to trust someone? How does it affect your life when you either learn that you can trust a person, especially someone who might be new in your life, like a new significant other in the life of your kids or grandkids? What does it feel like when someone violates your trust?

Our reading from Psalm 25 this morning lets us know that we can put our trust in God, even in the face of our worst enemies. One thing that is striking about Psalm 25 is that it begins and end with David’s concern that he not be put to shame. In a culture that valued honor above all else, shame could be devastating to someone personally, professionally, and even spiritually. David says the surest guarantee against shame was to put his trust in the Lord. But again, what does that look like? David paints a pretty good picture in Psalm 25, so let’s take a look at that.

First we see that David’s trust involves putting his hope in the Lord. That “hope” in God gives David the confidence to know his enemies will not defeat him. Psalm 25:3 has one of the two negative statements about David’s enemies: they are treacherous without cause, and because of that, they will suffer the social stigma of shame.

But David also shows us the path to avoid shame: He asks God, by his personal name “Yahweh,” to teach him about and guide him in his divine paths. In David’s day, pretty much all he had to go on for spiritual guidance was the Torah itself, the first five books of the Old Testament, and perhaps a prophet or a seer. He didn’t have all 66 books of the Bible like you and I have to keep us on the straight and narrow. David most likely had read the Torah himself a few times during his kingship; his many psalms that he wrote offer ample proof of how well he knew the Torah.

He also asks God to remember the good and forgive the bad. He first asks God to remember his own character, his mercy and his love for his creation. Then he asks God to forget, and essentially forgive, his own sins and shortcomings. But then he asks God to remember him as a person who can’t survive without God’s love.

Verses 6 & 7 here give us a nice concise pattern for a quick prayer should we ever need to utter one. Acknowledge God for who he is and what he’s done; cry out for forgiveness; and ask him to remember us, just as the thief on the cross would do 1,000 years later. The word “remember” here should not be overlooked, since it’s use three times. In the Bible, when God remembers, he acts. So when he remembers his mercy and his love, he shows his mercy and his love. When he remembers us, he loves us and reassures us of our place in eternity with him.

As an aside, there’s another application of that word remember as we celebrate World Communion Day today. What do most communion tables say? “In remembrance of me.” So when we partake of communion later, let us not only remember what Christ has done for us, but act on it by sharing it with others and recommitting ourselves as his followers.

In the last couple verses of our Psalm reading today, David again reminds us of God’s goodness and guidance in the lives of those who humble themselves before him.

These principles from this first part of Psalm 25 tie together our two gospel stories we read this morning. The first passage is an actual account from the life of Jesus as he encounters the Pharisees. The second is a parable targeted at the Pharisees.

The first story takes place the next day after Jesus has made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Do you remember what the first thing Jesus did was after his triumphal entry? He entered the Temple courts and threw out the money changers! And what did he say when he did that? “My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a den of robbers,” bringing together two quotes from Isaiah 56:7 and Jeremiah 7:11. Because Jesus’s true father is God himself, and the temple is God’s dwelling place on earth, the Temple is also Jesus’s birthright home. He is the earthly steward of the Temple, not the priests or the religious rulers. Jesus’s first act after entering Jerusalem was to establish his authority over and ownership of the Temple as his rightful home. This sets the stage then, for day two, when the chief priests and the elders of the people ask Jesus where his authority comes from.

It’s interesting in this passage that these religious leaders don’t want to engage Jesus on the Scriptures he cited when clearing the temple. The religious leaders are evidently well aware that they’ve been using the temple as an excuse to place a financial burden on the people. Instead of addressing that fact, they try to do what? They try to assassinate his character! Sound familiar? But Jesus, ever the shrewd one with the religious leaders, comes back with a question of his own, which puts them in a pinch. Either way they answer it, they know they’re in trouble of losing their respect and power with the people. Jesus had already said that John represented the return of Elijah, so that put him above the religious leaders in the eyes of the people. If John’s authority was from God, the religious leaders should have believed him. If it wasn’t, the people knew better and would most likely rebel against the religious leaders. Only a nonanswer could save their skins in the short run: “I don’t recall.”

Because the religious leaders couldn’t answer Jesus’s question, which was a perfectly legitimate response in Jesus’s day according to the rules of rhetoric in Greek culture, Jesus deferred the answer to his question as well. Of course, Jesus had already demonstrated his authority at the Temple the day before, but he had also been demonstrating it all along with his healings and miracles he’d done in full sight of the people and the religious rulers. Any attempt to damage Jesus’s character would result in the same backlash to the religious rulers as either of their answers about John the Baptizer would have. Jesus’s response, then, actually helps the religious rulers save face as well.

Jesus was obedient as a son to his Father by defending both the honor of the Temple and his own honor as the true image of God on earth. In the second story from the Gospel reading today, a parable, we have two sons who would in that culture be expected to do their father’s will when asked. The first one says no, but then later reconsiders and decides to go anyway. The second one says he will go, but he never does. The first and I think most important point from the parable is that God expects us to do his will. There’s really no hiding from that.

At first glance, you might think the parable is about keeping your word to do what you promised. But then, if the son who said he wouldn’t go never actually went, would he really deserve anything for keeping his word if he didn’t do his father’s will? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? But by the same token, the son who said he would go but didn’t is in a bit of double jeopardy. Not only has he not kept his word, but he’s failed to do his father’s will as well.

The point of the parable, then, is not how or when you do God’s will, but THAT you do God’s will. Jesus goes on to continue the comparison to John the Baptizer’s ministry that he began in the first part of our Gospel reading. The religious leaders had not heeded John’s warnings to repent, but the “tax collectors and the prostitutes” did believe him and they repented, thus gaining access to the kingdom of God. Their past didn’t matter. God accepts those who humbly come to him in repentance seeking forgiveness.

But the more amazing thing is that, even after the tax collectors and sinners began to repent and turn back to God, the religious leaders still refused to repent themselves! They could see the work of God happening right before their eyes, but they couldn’t bring themselves to believe it. Jesus says earlier in Matthew that his followers would be known by the fruit they bear. Those who do his will bear good fruit. Those who do not bear no fruit or bad fruit.

It’s not clear why the religious leaders didn’t see the importance of John’s (and Jesus’s) message of repentance. The biblical story is full of examples from the patriarchs and other men of faith who repented and went on to do great things for God.

Abraham took Sarah’s slave as a second wife and had a child by her, but God still allowed the line of his chosen people to descend from Sarah.

Abraham and Isaac both lied to kings about their respective relationships with their own wives, but God continued to propagate that family line as his chosen people.

Moses directly disobeyed God’s command, yet God still allowed him to finish his task of leading the people to the doorstep of the Promised Land.

David committed adultery and had the husband of the woman killed in battle, but God still used him to lead Israel to greatness and write numerous inspiring Psalms that are still with us today.

Solomon had hundreds of wives and concubines, yet God still allowed his wisdom to survive the ages in Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon.

In Isaiah’s day, Hezekiah repented while Jerusalem was under siege, and he witnessed the miraculous fatal judgment upon 185,000 of Sennacherib’s soldiers overnight.

Every single one of Jesus’s disciples, with the exception of John, abandoned him on the night of his arrest, and Peter denied knowing him, yet all except Judas were restored to leadership status by Jesus after his resurrection. Peter went on to preach at the birth of the church on Pentecost. The teaching of the apostles was the standard of the early church according to Acts 2:42.

Paul persecuted the early church and tacitly approved of the stoning of Steven, yet God used him to spread the Gospel to the Gentiles, and his letters form a significant portion of our Scriptures today.

Jesus never promised that the path of following him would be without struggle and effort, failure and heartache. When he says, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light,” we can’t forget that we still have a “yoke” on; there’s still fertile ground to plow, and that takes some measure of strength and effort. In researching this passage, I came across an anonymous Jewish parable that the rabbis used to teach a similar point to this one. It goes like this:

The matter may be compared to someone sitting at a crossroads. Before him were two paths. One of them began in clear ground but ended in thorns. The other began in thorns but ended in clear ground….

So did Moses say to Israel, “You see how the wicked flourish in the is world, for two or three days succeeding. But in the end they will have occasion for regret.” So it is said, “For there shall be no reward for the evil man” (Proverbs 24:20)….”You see the righteous, who are distressed in this world? For two or three days they are distressed, but in the end they will have occasion for rejoicing.” And so it is said, “That he may prove you, to do you good at the end” (Deuteronomy 8:16). (Sifre to Deut. 53).[1]

So following God may have its thorny patches in the beginning, but when we get to the end of the road, the path is clear and welcoming. But if we try to go our own way, thinking that might be the easier way, and never get on the right path with God, we can only expect trouble in the end. The tax collectors and prostitutes realized they were on the wrong path and changed their ways and their destination. I know many of you have been on the right path, and you’ve experienced your thorny times, but you are stronger, wiser, and more dedicated to God for that because you know his is and will continue leading your through it. Your obedience will yield a great reward. I would encourage you to remain firm and steadfast on that path.

So we see how the truths of Psalm 25 play out in these two stories from the Gospel of Matthew. If we put our trust in God and allow him to guide us, even through the most difficult times, we will know his reward and his glory. I pray that each of us here will continue on that straight and narrow path that is the road to eternal life. Peace to you all. Amen.


[1][1] Trans. Jacob Neusner, Sifre to Deuteronomy, vol. 1 (Atlanta: Scholars, 1987), pp. 175‒76.

August 4, 2023

The Everyday Kingdom of God: Minor Parables of Matthew 13

I preached a version of this message at Mt. View Presbyterian Church July 30, 2023. I modified a portion of the message to include more context about the major parables in Matthew 13 for my presentation of the message the following Sunday at Peace Presbyterian, which is what I’ve posted here. The recording is from Mt. View.

NOTE: The main text of the message is supplemented with two apologetic footnotes addressing issues that Stephen Wells cites in The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible (SAB). Specifically here, I address his comments about the size of a mustard seed and his assumption that Matthew 13:35 is misquoted from the Old Testament reference, Psalm 78:2.

When I was a student in seminary, my preaching professor assigned us what I thought at the time was a very unusual book for preaching class. We had to read Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon Days, a fictionalized story about the town the author grew up in in Minnesota. My preaching professor was big on pastors being able not just to handle God’s word correctly and accurately, but to be able to relay the message of God’s word in stories that churchgoers might remember better than a Bible verse or passage. Being a “meat and potatoes” kind of guy, I was at first a little leery about straying too far from a strict exegesis of God’s word.

But as I began to look more closely at the Gospels in seminary, I began to see how Jesus used stories, in the form of parables, to describe in memorable terms for his listeners what the kingdom of God is like. Now having grown up in the church and going to Sunday School most of my childhood, I had already heard most of the parables, so I kind of knew what they were. I even had come up with my own parable, probably sometime in my high school or early college years. Wanna hear it? It kind of follows one of the parables we read from this morning’s text.

The kingdom of heaven is like a bowl of popcorn. Some kernels never feel the fire of God’s word and remain untouched. Others open up a little, but they’re afraid of too much exposure and never experience their fullness. But those who open themselves completely to the fire of God’s word burning in themselves let his fullness fill them, and they add flavor to the world.

I know, it’s corny, right? Okay, I got my dad joke out of the way.

You might recognize the name Asaph as one of the authors of several Psalms in the Old Testament. In one of his psalms, Psalm 78, he prophesied that God’s messenger would come teaching in parables:

My people, hear my teaching;

listen to the words of my mouth.

I will open my mouth with a parable;

I will utter hidden things, things from of old— [1]

things we have heard and known,

things our ancestors have told us.

We will not hide them from their descendants;

we will tell the next generation

the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord,

his power, and the wonders he has done. [2]

One of things I think this psalm suggests is that there would come a time for the Jews when they would begin to lose track of their stories of faith. To a certain extent, we see that happening in the Gospels on the one hand with how the Pharisees and Sadducees respond to Jesus, but on the other hand, with how Jesus chides those religious leaders.

There are strong undertones in the Gospels that the Jews were not only feeling the tension of Roman oversight, but also that they were feeling the pressure of an increasingly legalistic form of Judaism. They were weighed down with its laws and requirements. That’s why Jesus said earlier in Matthew that his yoke was easy and his burden was light. He had come to give them eternal hope and some much-needed earthly rest from those burdens.

The religious leaders, it seems, had become so full of themselves with their knowledge of God’s laws and the “hedge” they had built around it with their oral tradition that they forgot how to relate to the people. This is why, Matthew earlier in chapter 13, quotes Isaiah 6:9–10, implying that he’s talking about the religious leadership of his day:

You will be ever hearing but never understanding;

you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.

For this people’s heart has become calloused;

they hardly hear with their ears,

and they have closed their eyes.

Otherwise they might see with their eyes,

hear with their ears,

understand with their hearts

and turn, and I would heal them.[3]

The pharisees couldn’t even understand the stories at first, until they began to realize that Jesus was talking about them in some instances!

The average Jew was ready for a refresh of Judaism. When Jesus came doing miracles and teaching in parables, it seems that was just the thing the Jews needed to have their faith and hope renewed. Matthew packs several of Jesus’s parables in chapter 13 here. Just to recap briefly, the first parable Matthew records is arguably the most familiar to many believers: the parable of the seed cast on the four soils. In a nutshell, Jesus is saying there are four responses to my teaching: Some people will ignore it because they have no interest in it. The second group immediately and happily intakes it, but they have no foundation for it to thrive, so it never really takes hold. The third group might investigate it and even live it for a while, but when they experience trouble, they return to their old ways. Finally, there are those who become fully invested in God’s word and integrate it into their daily lives. Four of the five parables we’re looking at a little closer this morning are about the people in that last group.

The first of our parables this morning is that of the mustard seed. This is a one-point parable, the point being to plant the seed. We don’t need to try to figure out who the man (or woman) is who planted the seed or whether they reference anyone specifically. We don’t need to try to understand what or where the field is. Jesus has already explained that in the other parable from chapter 13 that we didn’t read this morning, the parable of the wheat and tares. We don’t even have to know what it tastes like when added as a seasoning to food. None of those details are important.

As the parable says, the mustard seed is the smallest seed known at the time.[4] That seed will grow into what is technically an evergreen shrub, but it happens to look more like a tree. We should take note here that Jesus doesn’t say it’s the largest tree, but that it’s the largest of “garden plants” in someone’s garden. I believe Jesus uses this particular parable to describe the physical size of the kingdom of God compared to its humble beginnings, especially in the Church era. It’s a parable about the outward manifestation of the kingdom of heaven.

As much as the parable of the mustard seed is about the external manifestation of the kingdom of God, the parable of “hiding” (ἐγκρύπτω engkryptō) or mixing the yeast in the dough is about what the kingdom of God does in each of us. Again, there’s no reason to discern external, real-life references to people or places with the elements of the parable. Nor should we try to interpret what the expansion of the dough with yeast might mean. The singular point here is what happens when we “hide” God’s word in our hearts; it works itself through every part of our lives eventually, in our bodies, our minds, and our hearts and souls, so that we might know the full redemption awaiting us in eternity.

Now the next two parables again each make a singular point; only the characters are different. In the parable of the treasure hidden (κρύπτω kryptō) in the field, (and take note that we see the word “hide” again; same root word as in the parable of the yeast—it’s not an insignificant repetition), Jesus is talking about what the kingdom is worth to those who’ve invested their lives in it. As with the first two parables, the details are irrelevant here: Jesus doesn’t intend us to question the motivation of the man who found a treasure in someone else’s field. We shouldn’t make judgments about that, because we’re not even told if the man had a right to be in someone else’s field.

The parable immediately after that one about the merchant looking for the pearl of great price speaks to the broad expanse of God’s creation. The merchant seemingly has a singular goal here, finding the pearl of great price. As with the hidden treasure parable, the point of these is not the actions of the individuals mentioned or who they might be specifically. Nor is the point that only one individual in each parable gets the kingdom to the exclusion of all others. The point in both of these “value” parables is the value of the kingdom and the desire to have it at all costs. Anyone can find the treasure if they search long enough for it. It’s not reserved for any special class or group of people.

The final parable of the net is a little more complex than the other four we’ve looked at this morning. The net lets us know that God will gather all creation to him in the final judgment. The fact that Jesus mentions “all kinds of fish” here is a bit unusual, since other fishing stories usually just refer to “fish.” The word for “kinds” is the same word that can be translated “nation” or “people” of a certain nationality or ethnic background as opposed to any random person. In the parable, the fishermen keep the good fish but throw the bad (σαπρός, sapros) ones away. The word for “bad” there means “decaying” or “rotten” and is used to describe “bad” fruit in Jesus’s teaching on trees and the fruit they bear. But when Jesus talks about the allegorical equivalent to the fishermen, the angels, he says the angels throw the wicked (i.e., the bad fish) into the fire. That’s a graphic image of the final judgment of humanity.

This parable is nearly identical to the parable of the wheat and tares from earlier in chapter 13. These two parables, the net and the wheat & tares, have always impressed me as lessons for Christians to accept those we live with and work with and not pronounce any kind of ultimate judgment on those who do not follow Jesus. This acceptance should not be confused with tolerance. Christ still wants us to bear witness to his saving grace even to those who are in a state of unbelief or rebellion against God. Our job is not to judge, but to share the truth of God’s word and not only hold our ground in the spiritual battles we may face daily, but to gain ground so we can push back against the evil around us. God will make the final call on each person’s eternal fate. Our job is to be faithful with how God has called us to serve him and NOT to play God ourselves.

Jesus’s use of parables is radically counterculture to how the “official” Jewish religious rulers of the day taught. Those religious rulers taught rules and regulations, laws and statutes. That did have a purpose, but without stories, the Jewish people were getting lost in a growing set of requirements that was difficult to keep up with. He showed us that when we share the word of God with others, his kingdom grows. When we hide his word in our hearts, we grow. He also showed us that of all the things we pursue in this world, even billion-dollar Mega Millions jackpots, the kingdom of God is the greatest and most rewarding treasure we could find and possess. Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these other good things you worry and fret about will be added to your life. Amen!


[1] Countering SAB on Matthew 13.35. It is difficult to make an argument that the New Testament “misquotes” an Old Testament passage, especially when the speaker may not have been using the original language the Old Testament was written in. The Greek of the Septuagint (LXX) for first part of Psalm 78:2 is identical to Matthew’s first line. The second part of the verse, though, uses different words in the New Testament, but the sense of the phrase is still the same. Here they are for comparison:

LXX (Logos version) of Psalm 78:2: ἀνοίξω ἐν παραβολαῖς τὸ στόμα μου, φθέγξομαι προβλήματα ἀπʼ ἀρχῆς.

UBS 4th Ed. of Matthew 13:35: Ἀνοίξω ἐν παραβολαῖς τὸ στόμα μου, ἐρεύξομαι κεκρυμμένα ἀπὸ καταβολῆς [κόσμου].

The reason for the difference may stem from the theory that Matthew originally wrote his gospel in Aramaic, so the translation into A.D. first-century Greek may not have followed the Septuagint. It’s also possible that the meaning of some of the Greek words in the LXX had changed significantly in the 200 or so years leading up to the NT times, so Matthew had to choose a different word.

The Hebrew word translated προβλήματα (from which we get the English word “problem,” and which is not found in the NT) in the LXX is either translated with a form of that word or the Greek word from which we get “enigma” (αἰνίγματα). The Greek word used in Matthew’s passage (κεκρυμμένα) means “what has been hidden,” so that certainly fits the sense of “enigma” or “problem.” The NT rendering is essentially a dynamically equivalent translation of the LXX version.

One minor point here: SAB says Matthew’s misquote is of Psalm 78:2–3, but only vs. 2 is quoted.

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

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

[4] Countering SAB on the size of the mustard seed in Matthew 13:31. While the mustard seed is definitely not the smallest seed known to us today, this does not take away from what Jesus is saying. First, the seed is planted in a garden that would have been home to vegetable and herb plants, practical things the growers could use for sustenance. While the seed of an epiphytic orchid may be the smallest known seed today (according to what SAB claims, anyway), it was not something that would have been planted in a vegetable garden.

Second, the word for tree (δένδρον) is used because the variety of mustard plant that grew in that region would have grown to a height of about 4 feet by the time it produced the seed pods, much larger than any of the other plants in the garden, but it was classified as an evergreen shrub. It would have been large enough for birds to perch (κατασκηνόω) in. The word doesn’t necessarily mean to make a nest. It implies a temporary residing place. In fact, it comes from the same root word used in John 1:14 to describe Jesus making his “dwelling” among us.

Getting back to the epiphytic orchids: if you do a Bing search asking “Where are epiphytic orchids found?” you will find that they’re found in tropical rainforests growing on top of other plants, thus the name (epi = upon; phytic = plant; Greed roots, of course). They are, apparently, the smallest seeds by weight. Again, calling on Bing, ask “What is the smallest seed in the world?” and you’ll get the answer Aerides odorata, an orchid. However, the information says there’s even a smaller seed than that, about 1/4th the size (0.05 mm vs. 0.2 mm). A simple check of the American Orchid Society (www.aos.org) reveals that these orchids are not native to the Middle East and would probably not have been known to Jesus’s rural and agrarian audiences.

The bottom line is, Jesus used a well-known seed as an object lesson, something everyday folks would know about. It wouldn’t do him any good in his teaching to call on his omniscience and explain that halfway around the world, there’s a seed y’all have never heard of that’s the smallest seed. It’s the ratio that’s important here: the size of mature plants is not proportional to the size of their seeds. The mustard seed wins the prize for the smallest seed that produces the largest plant, relatively speaking.

So once again, we can dispatch SAB’s criticism as uninformed and ignorant of the sociocultural context in which Jesus lived, taught, and interacted with his neighbors.

July 10, 2023

A Childlike Faith in a Patient God (Matthew 11:16–30)

Sermon preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church July 9, 2023. Click above to hear the audio recording.

How patient is God?

We’re not sure how long Adam and Eve had been in the Garden of Eden before they took a couple bites from the forbidden fruit, but upon that violation of the only prohibition he’d given Adam and Eve, God moved rather swiftly. There was no, “Oh, they didn’t really understand. Let’s try this again.” Or “You know, I must have made that fruit just too irresistible for them; it’s my fault.” No, when Eve and Adam committed that first sin, the damage was done. The veil was broken that protected them from the knowledge of evil. They had their chance to know only life with God, and if they had chosen that route, the goodness they would have lived in would have never had anything to contrast itself with. God banished them from the garden immediately.

Then, after Cain and Abel had grown up, Cain being the firstborn of the first created, he decided he didn’t like how God preferred Abel’s offering to his, so he murdered Abel. Again, God dealt swiftly with it, but did not give Cain the death penalty he deserved. Instead, the Scriptures say God marked Cain somehow so people wouldn’t kill him. But Cain had caused a bigger problem that would establish an undertone throughout the OT: the curse of the firstborn. With the possible exceptions of Abraham and Noah (we don’t know their full genealogies), the firstborn in most of the major biblical stories are often bypassed for the continuation of God’s kingdom and the lineage of God’s one and only son, Jesus.

God must have turned on his patience after the Cain and Abel incident, because we don’t really hear of any judgment of God type events until we get to the flood in Genesis 6, 1,656 years after Adam and Eve were created if we’re to take the genealogies in Genesis at their word. God’s judgment is a little less swift as the story moves on. God allows Abraham to negotiate with him over the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. God tolerates Abraham’s and Isaac’s deceptions about their respective lies about their wives to Pharaoh and Abimelek. God sends ten plagues over the course of a couple years, it seems, to try to get Pharaoh to change his mind about enslaving the Hebrews. And God uses a prophet to remind David of his sin with Bathsheba, a sin for which he could have been put to death, instead of dealing with him directly at the moment of his moral failure.

This is why David can write what he did in Psalm 145:

8 The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.[1]

We all know that children require patience, a TON of patience! But sometimes we have to act quickly to protect them from danger. Maybe they’re getting too close to a hot stove or aren’t watching what they’re doing playing in the front yard near the street. No time for patience in some of those situations. But many more times, teaching a child how to navigate the world around them can be filled with a lot of trial and error, bumps and bruises, and scraped knees and elbows. At some point, they have to learn to walk on their own, ride a bike on their own, feed themselves with a spoon and fork, and other “big kid” stuff.

In our gospel passage this morning, we have an interesting analogy that both Matthew and Luke use about Jesus and John the Baptizer. The first-century readers of this gospel would have understood the pipe and dirge references as part of a children’s game. They would have a mock wedding or funeral and try to get people to participate, but no one was responding to them. The pipe referred to the mock wedding ceremony, and the dirge referred to the funeral, of course.

It was a simple game, really. All you had to do was show up and listen to the ceremony and enjoy or take comfort in the company of others, because that’s what the cultural custom told you to do.

John the Baptizer fasted quite often, so the dirge represented his ministry. Many followed him but not many listened to him, and those who didn’t or who were critical of him missed the message that the Messiah had indeed come. Jesus’s ministry was represented by the pipes, the wedding ceremony. Jesus used the wedding ceremony as parable of his own ministry elsewhere in the gospels, when he chides those who were invited but did not come to a wedding feast. The children playing these games had a childlike faith that people would follow along in their “game.”

Jesus had many followers and curiosity seekers as well but he was disappointed that many people did not take his message to heart and believe, especially from among the religious ruling class of his day. The problem wasn’t the general population, so much. They longed to be free from a legalistic Judaism that was crushing their spirit and making them fearful of “outliers” like John and Jesus. The problem was that both Jesus and John represented a challenge to the power of the religious leadership by the number of followers they were attracting, so like any politician threatened with the prospect of losing power or influence, they found a way to play both sides of the coin.

“John has a demon!” they cried, because he fasted and only ate locusts and honey.

“Jesus is a glutton!” “Jesus is a drunkard!” they cried, because he ate and drank with the outsiders and the outcasts, the sinners and tax collectors.

Our gospel reading skips over a few verses in Matthew where Jesus mentions several towns where they had ample opportunity to repent and believe in God. He even says his hometown of Capernaum will fare worse than Sodom in the final judgment. The people are seeing miracle upon miracle from Jesus; they’re hearing incredibly insightful and liberating teaching from Jesus; but these towns could not bring themselves to acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah.

Our passage picks up again with Jesus praising God for revealing the mystery of heaven to “little children.” The term “children” there most likely refers to toddlers, three- and four-year-olds. Not only that, but he emphasizes that God was pleased to reveal his purposes in that way. God doesn’t require us to be intellectual superstars when it comes to being a Christ-follower. We don’t have to know the right doctrines or even be able to explain them perfectly. His main goal for us is that we receive the love and forgiveness he’s offered us through Jesus, to return that love to him out of gratitude, and to share that love and good news with others. Nothing else should be a test of faith for us.

Most children have an innate desire to attach to a grown-up who loves them, cares for them, guides them into right behavior and thinking, and teaches them the things they need to know to survive in life. It’s a matter of simple trust for them. That’s how God wants us to come to him. When we come to him without all the worldly pretense we’ve developed over the years, we, like a child, can see the true character of our heavenly Father. He reveals himself to us, sometimes in ways we’d never imagine.

The Jews in Jesus’s day were burdened with many legalistic requirements that the rabbis had implemented to help keep the people from sinning. It was a “hedge,” as they called it, around the law. It was possible to violate the hedge a little and not sin; but they valued ritualistic purity so much, they wanted to ensure there was no trace of doubt of anyone’s purity. It was a difficult system to live under, because you could suffer disheartening short-term ostracism for not strictly adhering to the Law.

Jesus is out to change that conception, though. He says:

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”[2]

Jesus wants to change the system that had become bloated with legalism over the centuries. Much of that may have been well-intentioned when implemented, but taken all together, it had become something quite burdensome to keep. Jesus wants to make it simple again. “Rest in me,” he says. “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Jesus will teach us the true way to be a child of God, a Christ-follower. He will rescue us from our weariness and our burdens. Amen to that!

The apostle Paul seems to have wrestled with that quite a bit as well. I believe he understood God’s patience when it comes to our own response to God. But Paul also recognized we have an internal struggle sometimes, and we have to be patient with ourselves as we grow into that simple, childlike trust in God’s goodness and grace. He exemplifies that in Romans 7, where Paul seems to be having a little argument with himself: “15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. 16 And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17 As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.[3]” Paul recognizes his own need not only for patience with himself, but patience from God as well as he fights a constant internal battle with his fleshly desires.

Before I wrap this up, I do want to return to our reading from Psalm 145:8–14 and hit a few high points from that passage. I think it puts a nice bow on what it means to have a childlike faith in God.

When we’re saved by grace, Paul says in Ephesians 2:10 that “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus for good works that God prepared in advance for us to walk in.” He may have had Psalm 145:10–12 in mind when he wrote this:

10 All your works praise you, Lord;

your faithful people extol you.

11 They tell of the glory of your kingdom

and speak of your might,

12 so that all people may know of your mighty acts

and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.[4]

Jesus calls us to be light and life in this world. He’s empowered us to do that by imparting the Holy Spirit to us and making us righteous through his sacrifice on the cross. Again, it’s an easy burden from the Savior; certainly easier than trying to live life outside of the hope, healing, and forgiveness he brings. Just as we take joy at the innocence of children as they play their childhood games, so God wants us to experience the joy we can have by trusting in him.

But Jesus also realizes we may miss a step sometimes. His yoke is on us, not to enslave us, but to guide us on a straight path. Psalm 145:13b–14 reassures us that, when we stray from God’s path, he’s ready and willing to lift us up and put us back on the straight path:

The Lord is trustworthy in all he promises

and faithful in all he does.

14 The Lord upholds all who fall

and lifts up all who are bowed down.[5]

May the Lord lift us up, sustain us, and bless us as we learn to walk in his will each and every day with the simple faith of a child. Amen.


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

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

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

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

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

May 12, 2023

Strength from Forgiveness (Psalm 51; 1 Timothy 1:12–17)

Click above to listen to message.

Sermon preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, September 11, 2022. Edited for publication.

There is no price we can pay or effort we can make to compel God to give us mercy or grace.

I think most of us are familiar with the story of David and Bathsheba. One evening (we don’t know how late, but the text says David had gotten out bed), David was out on the roof of his palace looking over the city when he saw at a nearby neighbor’s house the beautiful Bathsheba bathing (2 Sam 11:2–5). In that moment, David forgot he was otherwise known as a man after God’s own heart. The key word there is “forgot.” David should have known better. Bathsheba was not some exhibitionist bathing for all of Jerusalem to see. She had in that culture that valued purity and faithfulness a reasonable expectation of privacy. Most likely there were civic codes that prevented you from building your home in such a way as to risk violating your neighbor’s privacy. For example, in some Mediterranean cultures, they had rules that you couldn’t have a window in your house that allowed you to see directly into your neighbor’s house or back yard, especially if such a window was on the second floor. The palace may have been large enough to be exempted from such rules, but the principle existed nonetheless.

Add to this that shame of nakedness in that day would not have been on the one who was naked outside, especially if she had a right to privacy, but the shame would have been on the one who looked upon the nakedness. That is why Noah’s sons had to back into the tent to cover their naked, drunk father after the flood. David should have known immediately to avert his gaze and go somewhere else where such a view was not possible. It may be that David was on the roof of his palace, perhaps trying to get a view of the distant battle or the campfires of the troops or just to take in the cooler air. It would not have been a normal place for him to hang out. David had several opportunities to do the right thing in this situation, but the more he looked, the more he wanted Bathsheba. He could have done nothing at that point except walk away, but he didn’t. Instead, he sent someone to bring Bathsheba to him. He lay with her and got her pregnant.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, he tried to manipulate the situation by first giving Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband, a break from the battle in the hopes he would lay with Bathsheba and some might not question the paternity of the baby. But Uriah showed more integrity than David, so David sent him back to the battle with instructions to his commander, Joab, to manipulate the battle in such a way that Uriah would surely perish, and he did.

Of course, we know that David’s sin was exposed by the prophet Nathan, and we see David’s repentant, godly response in Psalm 51.

Read Psalm 51:1–10

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love;

according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.

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

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

Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight;

so you are right in your verdict and justified when you judge.

Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me.

Yet you desired faithfulness even in the womb; you taught me wisdom in that secret place.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice.

Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity.

10 Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

11 Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.

12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. [1]

So David is busted. Found out. Exposed. It was pointless for him to deny it. And he didn’t live in a culture where such behavior, especially in the political class, would be ignored and swept under the rug. He had to face his maker. And he chose the best path, the only path, really, to put him on the road to restoration. God was giving his anointed a chance to come clean through the prophet Nathan’s intervention, and David accepted. He pleaded with God for mercy and owned up to his mistake.

This word for “mercy” here, (חָנַן ḥā·nǎn), is almost always used in the context of someone speaking, more so than in a running narrative that tells a story. The New International Version tends to translate it based on the perspective of the speaker. In the current passage, and for about one-third of the total occurrences of the word in the OT, if the speaker knows they’ve done wrong and they ask for ḥānǎn, the translators use the word “mercy.” On the other hand, if the speaker has acted justly and feels threatened by the enemy, or is referencing the goodness of God generally, the translators usually use “gracious” or “generous” for the word. That sense of the word represents about half the total occurrences of the word. These two primary meanings represent a modern distinction that some have made between “mercy” and “grace.” “Mercy” is not getting what you deserve, while “grace” is getting what you don’t deserve or didn’t earn. In both cases, it is a gift of God. And in both cases, there is no price we can pay or effort we can make to compel God to give us mercy or grace. We can ask for it, we can search for it, but the “price” for such a gift can only be paid by God, which he ultimately did through Jesus on the cross.

This is where the other key word in Psalm 51:1 comes in, a Hebrew word you’ve most likely heard before if you been in church or Bible studies for any length of time: חֶסֶד (ḥě·sěḏ), God’s “unfailing love.” Of the 245 times this word is used in the OT, well over three-fourths of the occurrences refer to God’s enduring, unfailing love and kindness. And nearly half of the uses of the word are found in the Psalms, including in the praise Psalm 136, where “His love (ḥěsěḏ) endures forever” is a repeated refrain at the end of each of its 26 verses.

As one Bible dictionary puts it, ḥěsěḏ is not a “disposition,” that is, it’s not just a feeling or a certain way of thinking. It is in the end a helpful act of God rooted in his covenant relationship to us, or when applied to us mortals, our helpful acts of love toward family and friends. It is an overflow of his righteousness, mercy, and shalom peace. As a covenant responsibility, David expects to and has a certain level of assurance that he will be forgiven. This is the same assurance we have when we come to Jesus: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). As I said above, there’s nothing we can do to earn this, but we can and should respond to it with a ḥěsěḏ of our own. “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19). Not only is this ḥěsěḏ toward God, but toward our family and friends as well.

In vv. 5–6, David gives us a contrast between the way we are and the way God wants us to be. I want to use the English Standard Version translation of these two verses here because I think they’re a little less interpretive of the Hebrew text, and come much closer to what David was trying to convey:

Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.

Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.[2]

On the one hand, David realizes he is a sinner in need of God’s grace. But on the other hand, David knows that only God can transform his inner being into the godly character he desires. God knew David was a sinner in need of his grace, and that David might fall short of the ḥěsěḏ standard miserably at times, but he still chooses him anyway to lead his people. Verse 5 is similar to Paul’s essay in Romans 7 about doing what he doesn’t want to do and recognizing that sin still may try to get a stranglehold on him. But by sending the prophet to David, God is giving David a chance to come clean, to repent, and he does. God doesn’t ostracize or “cancel” his anointed because of one or two or five or ten mistakes. God’s ḥěsěḏ requires our willingness to be taught and to seek his truth to transform our inner being. God is forever the God of the next chance. God’s gift and his calling on our lives are without repentance, “irrevocable” (Romans 11:29). So no matter how many times you think you’ve failed or fallen short, know that he has called you for a purpose, and that he is guiding you and strengthening you in his ḥěsěḏ love to bring about his will.

Verses 10–12 give us a glimpse of how we get God’s truth in our inward being and his wisdom in our “secret” heart. After forgiving us and cleansing us, David recognizes that he must immerse himself in the presence of God to experience the restoration and renewal that awaits him. This is not a passive process: David goes on in the psalm to commit himself to teaching others about God’s ways and singing the praises of God aloud.

Verse 12, then, ties into our Gospel reading this morning from Luke 15: Both the shepherd and the woman have lost something of value. In the case of the shepherd, he leaves behind everything of value he does have, that is, the flock, to find the one sheep that is missing. This is what God does for us to bring us back to him.

In the case of the woman, she must clean her whole household to find the missing coin. David asked God to “cleanse” him with hyssop and remove from him all that would keep him from experiencing God to the fullest. Notice that he didn’t pledge to clean up his own life. God doesn’t need to wait for us to do that on our own. He meets us where we are and works with us from that point forward to bring restoration.

For both the shepherd and woman, there is rejoicing for finding what was lost and restoring it to its rightful place. Jesus draws the parallels there with both stories to the heavens rejoicing when one sinner repents. When we know God is with us, we can feel assured of our salvation, our calling, and the power of his ḥěsěḏ love.

Before I wrap up this morning, I want to bring in a passage that shows how this transformation from sin to victory worked itself out in Paul’s life. Let’s look at 1 Timothy 1:12–17:

12 I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service. 13 Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. 14 The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

15 Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 16 But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life. 17 Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.[3]

We only need to look at verse 13 to see how far Paul was from the Christian faith. First of all, he calls himself a blasphemer, which by itself would have been enough to get him stoned to death in Israel. But in context here, he’s probably referring to his initial denial of Christ as Lord and his approval of the stoning of Stephen, because the Jews thought Stephen had blasphemed in his final, fatal message. Paul was a persecutor. He thought this new Jesus movement was so dangerous to traditional Judaism that the followers had to be jailed or snuffed out, violently if necessary. He even admits to acting ignorantly and in unbelief, and that he was the worst of all sinners.

Yet with all that, God still chose to use Paul to be the main messenger of the faith in the northern Mediterranean region. He humbly gives thanks and praise for all that God has done for him and is doing through him. His life would be the ultimate testimony of the transforming power of God’s grace and salvation.

I want to focus for a moment here on verse 12, because I believe that parallels what David’s desire was in his psalm of repentance: “I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength.” I guess you could say Paul was “fortunate” enough to have a direct revelation from Jesus to set his life in the right direction. Granted, that was probably a pretty scary situation for him, as it would be for any of us, I imagine. But the attempt to turn a violent and desperate man from his ways required corresponding radical action of God to set him straight. That seems to have been enough, at least initially, to have “strengthened” Paul, because we see very soon after his conversion in Acts 9:22 that Luke tells us, “Saul (Paul) grew more and more powerful (or strengthened) and baffled the Jews living in Damascus by proving that Jesus is the Messiah.” He relates his own story here so that in 2 Timothy 2:1, he can also encourage Timothy to be strong in God’s grace as well. Having the examples of men and women of faith, both in the Bible and in our own lives, will help us stay grounded in the faith and give us strength and endurance for our Christian walk. The author of Hebrews said it well:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.[4]

My friends, do not lose heart. Every day, lift up the Lord Jesus in your life through word and deed, and give God the praise and glory he deserves.

Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.[5]


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

[2] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2016. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles.

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

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

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

April 13, 2023

Some Thoughts on Inerrancy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[9] Campbell, Thomas. Declaration and Address.

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