Part 1 of the Romans podcast series may be found here.
Pip: Welcome to Sunday Morning Greek Blog, where the coffee is hot and the participles are passive — and sometimes that’s the whole point.
Mara: Scott Stocking is our guide this episode, working through Romans with a close eye on the Greek text — what words like pistis and dikaiosyne actually mean, and why the translation choices matter for how we understand salvation.
Pip: Let’s start with the Romans Road and what happens when you read it in the original language.
Pip: The post on Romans 3:23–24 opens a question most readers skip right past: when Paul says we are justified by faith, whose faith is he actually talking about — ours, or Christ’s?
Mara: The post frames it this way: “For all who are being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came through Messiah Jesus sinned and are lacking the glory of God.” That rearrangement of word order is deliberate — the participle dikaioumenoi, meaning “who are being justified,” attaches directly to “all,” making justification an ongoing process, not a completed event.
Pip: So the grammar itself is doing theological work. Being justified is present tense, active right now, not a box you checked at conversion.
Mara: Exactly. And that present-tense framing connects to a comparison with Ephesians 2:8, where the parallel construction swaps “through the redemption in Christ Jesus” for “through faithfulness, and this not from yourselves.” The argument is that the faithfulness in view is Christ’s — his obedience to the cross — not a quantity of belief we have to produce on our own.
Pip: Which dissolves a question that has quietly tormented a lot of Christians: do I have enough faith to be saved? If the faithfulness is Christ’s, the answer is structurally irrelevant to us.
Mara: The post makes that point directly. If salvation rests on our faith, it becomes relative — how much is enough? But if it rests on Christ’s faithfulness, the statement becomes absolute. Our own trust in Jesus is, as the post puts it, “not so much for the purpose of being saved but the result of being saved.”
Pip: That’s a quiet but significant inversion of how the passage usually gets preached.
Mara:The companion piece on pistis across Romans 1–5 develops this at length. It argues that the phrase pisteos Iesou Christou — “the faithfulness of Jesus Christ” — in Romans 3:22 is a subjective genitive: Christ is the one being faithful, not merely the object of our faith. The post traces that reading through the whole arc of Romans 1–5, from God’s wrath under the Law in chapters 1 through 3, to Abraham’s faithfulness in chapter 4, to the application in chapter 5.
Mara: The inclusio that brackets the entire letter is telling: the phrase eis hypakoēn pisteōs — “into obedience of faithfulness” — appears in both 1:5 and 16:26, the first and last occurrences of pistis in Romans. That structural frame suggests Paul’s whole argument is about faithful obedience, not faith as a discrete interior event.
Pip: So Romans is less a manual for how to believe and more a demonstration that Christ already did the believing on our behalf — and we walk in the wake of that.
Mara: With the caveat that our own faithfulness still matters — the post is careful to say this doesn’t imply universalism or unconditional security, but rather a call to trust more deeply because God has already demonstrated his reliability. Works, confession, and obedience all follow from that trust.
Pip: From the mechanics of justification to the question of who the righteous one actually is — that thread runs all the way back to Romans 1:17, which is where the deeper argument begins.
Mara: The thread connecting both posts is really one question: what kind of faithfulness is Romans built on, and does the Greek text change the answer?
Pip: Turns out the grammar has opinions. Next time, we’ll see where else those opinions show up.
Pip:Sunday Morning Greek Blog — where the Greek is original and the theology is anything but shallow.
Mara: Scott Stocking has been working through one of the more contested questions in New Testament theology: what immersion actually does, what Peter and Paul meant by it, and whether the word itself carries more weight than most translations let on.
Pip: Let’s start with the text that says it most plainly — 1 Peter 3.
Baptism as Event, Not Ritual
Mara: The question driving these posts is deceptively simple: does immersion save, and if so, how does it work — what gives the water any power at all?
Pip: First Peter 3:21 is the sharpest answer in the New Testament, and the post on that passage offers a translation that cuts through the usual hedging: “This immersion now saves you through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, not the body-dirt removal immersion, but the clear-conscience-pledge to God immersion.”
Mara: So the power is not in the water itself. The resurrection is the qualifier — it is what carries the person through immersion the way the floodwater carried the ark. Without that phrase at the end of the verse, the whole thing collapses into ritual.
Pip: And the Greek grammar backs that reading up. The relative pronoun at the start of verse 21 is neuter, which means it points back to water, not to the ark — Peter is saying the flood water corresponds to immersion, not that the ark does.
Mara: The post on The Mystery of Immersion picks up that thread and pushes it further, asking whether ascribing salvific power to immersion while calling the Lord’s Table a mere symbol is a theological inconsistency — either both carry mysterious power, or both are symbols.
Pip: That is a genuinely uncomfortable corner to be argued into.
Mara:Mystery of Immersion, Part Two lands the argument more firmly. It reads Romans 6 as the centerpiece of Paul’s entire theological argument in chapters 1 through 11, with immersion as the event that binds Christ’s death and resurrection together in a single act.
Pip: So immersion is not a footnote to salvation — it is, in Paul’s architecture, the load-bearing joint.
Mara: The Part Two post puts it this way: immersion is “the glue that ties the two pillars of the faith together.” United with Christ’s death, the believer receives justification, reconciliation, and a cleansed conscience. United with the resurrection, they bear fruit and share the victory over death.
Mara: And across all three posts, one consistent boundary holds: a purely outward act, the “dunk and ditch” version, accomplishes nothing — the pledge of a clear conscience is what makes the event real.
Pip: From water as typology to Romans as architecture — the question underneath all of it is what it means to be all-in for Christ.
Pip: Three posts, one through-line: immersion is not where the journey ends — it is where it starts in earnest.
Mara: The Greek keeps pulling that thread. More to come.
Pip: Sunday Morning Greek Blog — where the laws of ancient Israel turn out to be hiding a family scandal the whole time.
Mara: Today we’re following Scott Stocking into the structural heart of Exodus 21, where a chiasm built around slavery, parents, and kidnapping turns out to be pointing directly at the patriarchs.
Pip: Let’s start with the structure itself and what it reveals.
Mara: The post opens with a seminary assignment — Exodus 21:12–27 — but when the Hebrew text revealed that verses 1–27 formed a complete paragraph, the scope expanded, and so did the discovery.
Pip: And what the expanded passage reveals is a chiasm — ideas presented in one order, then mirrored in reverse, with the most important element locked at the center.
Mara: The center, in this case, is kidnapping. And the post explains why that placement matters: “Kidnapping was the ultimate form of mistreatment of another person. That is why it was at the center of the passage.”
Pip: So the architecture of the law is doing theological work — the center of the structure is the center of the argument, not just a formatting choice.
Mara: Right, and the Hebrew confirms it. The word translated “kidnap” is the phrase meaning “the one stealing a man,” using the same root — ganav — as “steal” in the Ten Commandments. Same word, much higher stakes.
Pip: Stealing a man means removing him from his covenant community and erasing the life he had planned. That is not a footnote crime.
Mara: Which is why it sits flanked by laws about striking or cursing parents, and by the Hebrew slave provisions that open and close the passage — all of them potentially capital offenses, all gathered under the shadow of the lex talionis.
Pip: And then the historical context lands, and the whole structure suddenly reads like an indictment.
Mara: Exactly. Joseph’s brothers kidnapped him, sold him into slavery, and lied to their father — which the post calls equivalent to a curse. The first law code after the Ten Commandments is a direct mirror of what Israel did to its own.
Pip: The message being: you are the case study. The law you just received describes crimes you already committed.
Mara: The post frames it plainly — even though God intended it for good, that cannot become an excuse. Structure and context together make the passage a warning, not just a statute.
Pip: Moses built a legal code that doubles as a confession. That is a long way from a seminary homework assignment.
Mara: The deeper point is that how a text is arranged is part of what it means — structure carries argument.
Pip: Which means reading carefully is not optional. It’s the whole job.
I preached this message at Mount View Presbyterian Church on June 28, 2026, “Proper 8” in the Lectionary. As with my previous message, I wanted to focus on the Romans passage for the day given my recent intensive study into the letter. I also wanted to establish what I think is an overlooked connection between the climax of the first 11 chapters of Romans, chapter 6 featuring Paul’s discussion of baptism, and the “conclusion” of that argument that Paul states in 12:1, namely, that we should offer ourselves as a living sacrifice in the waters of baptism.
Good morning! The Lord be with you!
As I said a couple weeks ago, I wanted to focus on the Romans chapters in the Lectionary readings this month because of my recent “deep dive” into Romans. My purpose was twofold: to help my home church kick off a Romans study this past semester as well as to edify myself for my own personal encouragement and enrichment. The more I have drilled down into Romans, the more scriptural gold I find that enriches my own faith, calls me to a deeper commitment to faithfulness, and transforms my heart and mind in ways I have never experienced in 50 years of being an intentional Christ follower.
I’m especially excited this morning to share with you my message, mixed with a little bit of testimony, on the last half of Romans 6. I have discovered in the past year that Romans 6 is central point of Paul’s explanation of the righteousness of faithfulness. His whole discussion in the first five chapters leads up to the explanation of his stated theme. I’ve said before that Romans 1:5 is the main theme of the entire book of Romans, as is evident by Paul’s restatement of it at the end of Romans 16:26. Romans 1:5 says this:
“Through him we received grace and apostleship to call all the Gentiles to the obedience of faithfulness for his name’s sake.”[1]
The connection of today’s passage with the concept of obedience, especially as it relates to chapter 6’s main topic of baptism, was clear as we read the text. But I want to issue a disclaimer here: when Paul is talking about obedience, he is NOT talking about a legalistic checklist we all must check off. Nor is he talking about mindless, robotic, walking-in-lockstep behavior. Obedience in this context means something much more personal, so let’s dive into the passage and find out what that is.
To refresh our memories, we need to look back at what immediately precedes our passage today, because, as I said a couple weeks ago, we need to see what the “therefore” in verse 12 is “there for.” Here’s what Paul said in vv. 3–5 as he introduces the topic of baptism:
“3 Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. 5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his.”[2]
Then in verse 11, the verse leading into this morning’s passage, Paul says this to summary the first part of his discussion in chapter 6:
“In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus.”[3]
Paul considered baptism to be the transformative moment in the life of the believer, then. Repenting and turning to God involves two (at least) sequential events: In dying with Christ, not only do we share in his crucifixion and suffering on the cross, but we become united with, made one with Christ as well for eternity. Just as Christ did not remain in the grave forever, so we too, at baptism, are alive with the resurrected Lord even in our mortal bodies. This is what I meant above that Paul’s main theme, the obedience of faithfulness, is more than just a list of rules and behaviors to abide by. This obedience of faithfulness means we’re actually living our lives in the presence of Christ himself.
This is where we catch up with this morning’s reading. The fact that Paul says “Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires”[4] should not surprise us. If we’re living “in Christ” and walking daily in His presence, would we want to bring sinful habits, behaviors, and thoughts into that relationship? Of course not!
Paul gets a little more specific as he goes on in 13 and 14. Don’t let any part of yourself—body, soul, or mind—fall into sin. Paul is pretty much saying here it’s an all or nothing proposition, just as baptism represents a complete identification with Christ. Christ gave his all for us, after all. He calls us to offer our complete self as “an instrument of righteousness.”
Paul’s use of a word here that we have translated into English as “instrument” need not concern us, even though on the surface it may cause us to think we’re just chess pieces. But as we have seen, our connection to Christ is a relationship: he is the head of the church; we are his body. So again, it never hurts to repeat this fact: we’re not cut off from the body if do happen to sin once in a while.
The word for “instrument” (ὅπλον hoplon) may have reminded the Greek-speaking gentiles of Hoplite soldiers of ancient Greece. They were heavily armed infantry troops that were quite successful in their day. The point of making this connection is that the body of Christ, the diverse church, is united in moving the kingdom forward, preferably through peaceful means, just as an army is united in purpose even though different battalions may have different tasks.
Hebrews 6 can help us understand this concept a little better, I think. Hebrews 6 can be a little scary if we don’t understand the context. Here’s what it says:
“It is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have shared in the Holy Spirit, 5 who have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the coming age 6 and who have fallen away, to be brought back to repentance. To their loss they are crucifying the Son of God all over again and subjecting him to public disgrace.”[5]
The idea of not being able to return to repentance if you’ve made a mistake is a little frightening. Does that mean you miss out on some heavenly rewards? Or worse yet, that you miss out on heaven? Fortunately not. In the opening verses of chapter 6, the author chides the Hebrews for still consuming spiritual baby food. One of the items in his list is “repentance from acts that lead to death.”
The author of Hebrews is telling his readers they don’t need to “re-repent” or get “re-baptized” to get back right with God after they sin. What he is saying, however, is that the Hebrews have to develop a more mature mind set about life. He knows they already believe, they just have to start acting like they believe. They must start acting “faithfully” to show they are walking in that “obedience of faithfulness.”
Getting back to Romans 6, Paul repeats his opening question of chapter 6 with a slightly different nuance but the same answer: “What then? Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? By no means!”[6] Of course not, Paul! Silly question, or so it seems, but evidently people thought that way back then. Paul goes on to talk about the difference between offering ourselves as “slaves” to righteousness as opposed to offering ourselves as slaves to sin.
The word for “offer” (παρίστημι paristēmi), which appears five times in Romans 6, is a word we should pay attention to, because the next time it appears in Romans is in 12:1: “Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.”[7] If you’re not picking up on the connection here, let me spell it out:
Look at Romans 6:13b again. Paul says, “Offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life.”[8] In the context of Romans 6, what does that phrase “from death to life” refer to? We’ve seen that it refers to baptism.
Baptism is how we unite with the sacrifice of Christ and the life that comes from his resurrection. In other words, it’s the perfect definition and example of what it means to be a “living sacrifice.” When Paul exhorts the Romans in 12:1 to offer themselves as a living sacrifice, he’s exhorting them to participate in the obedience of faithfulness as represented by baptism. In Philippians 2:8, Paul tells his readers that Christ “humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!”[9] The faithful obedience of Jesus should encourage our own faithful obedience.
Finally, we can’t talk about the last half of Romans 6 without talking about the very famous last verse of Romans 6: “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”[10] For quite a long time, this verse has been treated as a warning to believers and unbelievers alike, in some cases, being used to scare us away from the devil and toward Christ. But I want to suggest to you this morning that Paul never intended to use this verse as a warning, but as a summary statement for chapter 6 that applies to everyone who’s made the decision to follow Christ.
We know that Christ paid the full wages of sin for us on the cross so we wouldn’t have to. By participating in Christ’s crucifixion through baptism, we get “credit” as if we had paid the wage ourselves. Christ’s righteousness clothes us when we come to him. The last verse is an affirmation that we have paid the wages of sin. Since baptism also connects us the gift of eternal life and the hope of the resurrection, we have already received that free gift but will not “redeem” it until we die and go to be with the Lord. So again, verse 23 is an affirmation of that life we have received, not necessarily a promise for good behavior.
That’s what makes it grace, then. As Ephesians says, we’re saved by grace through the faithfulness of Christ. We only need to respond to it willingly. If you haven’t already, I urge you to do so today. Peace to you, brothers and sisters, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Grace to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with an undying love. Amen.
If you are interested in scheduling an engagement with me for teaching. pulpit supply, conference speaker, etc., please click my name in the signature and send me an e-mail. My preference is to remain within a two-hour drive of Omaha, but would consider farther for a longer weekend engagement.
The New Testament writers make no bones about connecting baptism and forgiveness to the blood of Christ. Baptism, forgiveness, and Christ’s blood are inextricably linked throughout the New Testament. In the brotherhood I belong to (Christian Church/Stone-Campbell or Restoration Movement) we have two primary “sacraments”: Communion, in which Jesus definitely connects his shed blood to forgiveness (Matthew 26:28), and Baptism (Romans 6:1–4) where Paul connects it with the death and resurrection of Christ. In fact, an analysis of the whole argument of Romans reveals that the central and climactic chapter of Romans 1–11 is chapter 6 on Baptism. The end of Romans 6 has the well known verse about “The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord.” Read in context, that verse refers to baptism: we pay the wages of sin by going under the water and receive eternal life by rising up out of the water. This sets up the reason Paul can say “Offer your bodies a living sacrifice” in Romans 12:1, after he’s finished his argument in 1–11. The “living sacrifice” is exactly what baptism is. Offer your bodies to be baptized/immersed. Baptism is our participation in the sacrifice of Christ on the cross and his resurrection from the dead.
Louw & Nida, Greek-English Lexicon Based on Semantic Domains
53.41βαπτίζωb; βάπτισμα,τος n; βαπτισμόςb,οῦ m: to employ water in a religious ceremony designed to symbolize purification and initiation on the basis of repentance—‘to baptize, baptism.’
……
According to the Didache (early second century) different forms of baptism were practiced in the early church, but with evident preference given to immersion.
The baptism practiced by John the Baptist would seem to reflect far more the Jewish pattern of ritual washing than the type of baptism employed by Christians, which constituted a symbol of initiation into the Christian community on the basis of belief in and loyalty to Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. There seems, however, to be no reason to employ a different expression for baptism in the case of John than in the case of the early Christians.[1]
Good morning and Happy New Year. The Lord be with you.
Wow, what a crazy month our family has had! Thirty days ago we were all getting on planes across the country and headed to Europe. What an amazing time of togetherness between our family and Alec’s in-laws-to-be in Poland. A horse-drawn carriage ride in the woods with a meal and a trio of Polish musicians singing songs of joy we couldn’t begin to understand. Dancing and drinking hot tea and yes, even some hot wine in the winter chill. We went to a resort that has a heated outdoor pool and played around in that for about an hour while it was snowing on our heads! And that was just the first three days.
We went to Auschwitz one day; powerful. I don’t think I ever want to drive in Poland again! The speed limit changes five times in a mile. We spent a couple days in Wrocław, then took a train to Prague to finish our stay in Europe. Prague is an amazing historic city untouched by the ravages of World War II. But there was a price to pay. Almost all of us came back with some kind of bug, mainly influenza-A. I think we’re all past that now, but the trip was totally worth it.
But now to John’s gospel. After the apostle John’s introduction of Jesus as the incarnation of the Word of God and the true Light of the World, which I believe is a connection to the first act of creation, we move immediately to John denying that he himself is the Messiah, the Christ. John explains the difference between his baptism and the baptism Jesus. The gospel of Mark tells us that John’s baptism represents repentance for the forgiveness of sins (Mark 1:4), while only Jesus, after he’s revealed, can add the extra element of being filled with the Holy Spirit upon that event (Act 2:38).
It’s interesting here that neither John the Evangelist nor John the Baptist ever directly says the Baptist baptizes Jesus, but he does say Jesus is in the crowd that’s around him on that first day we meet him. Luke does say Jesus gets baptized along with everyone else in the crowd, so it’s a safe assumption to say that Jesus was baptized that first day. But John doesn’t do anything special to call attention to Jesus just then.
Whether John the Baptist knows it or not, the phrase “for the forgiveness of sins” will come up later in Matthew and in the book of Acts. Jesus uses that exact same phrase at the Last Supper with respect to the cup, the blood of the covenant (Matthew 26:28). Acts 2:38 says this: “38 Peter replied, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”[1]
In Romans 6, Paul makes baptism a permanent part of Christian theology in that it is the connection we have with the death (i.e., the blood of the covenant), burial, and resurrection of Jesus.
3 Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.[2]
In the gospel of John, all of what we just talked about happened on the first day John the Evangelist chose to write about. Our gospel passage starts “on the next day” after that. This is where we see John the Baptist call out Jesus as he’s coming toward him. He claims to see the Spirit descending like a dove upon Jesus; it’s not clear from John’s gospel whether the others see it as well. John closes out this “next day” by saying that Jesus is “the Chosen One.”
The translator’s choice here of “Chosen One” is intentional here. Most of the early Greek manuscripts we have of the Gospel of John have “Son of God” here, and so most of our modern English translations have “Son of God” here. In fact, “Son of God” is probably the most popular title for Jesus after “Christ/Messiah” in the NT.
However, the most reliable copy we have of the Greek New Testament and a couple other descendants of that have the phrase “the Chosen one of God,” presumably borrowed from parallel language in Isaiah 42:1: “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, / my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, / and he will bring justice to the nations.”[3] By making this connection to Isaiah 42, John also hints that Jesus is the Messianic “Servant” of Isaiah chapters 42 and 49 through 53. Isaiah 49:3 says, “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will display my splendor.”[4]
The next day after that, John, while he’s still out baptizing, introduces Jesus essentially the same way as he did the day before: “Look, the Lamb of God!” Only this time, some in the crowd perk up. Perhaps they had heard about Jesus having been revealed the day before and were hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But they wanted more. They wanted to follow their new Rabbi, the Lamb of God.
Andrew was the first disciple to be mentioned by name in our passage. It’s not clear who the other one was; perhaps it was one of the sons of Zebedee, James or John. Andrew immediately went to find Simon, whom Jesus would rename Peter, “the Rock,” to let him know he’d found the Messiah. But it doesn’t seem like they follow him just yet. The most we can say for sure is that they spent the day with Jesus. But the introductions have been made. Jesus is starting to gain a following.
So just what were the Jews expecting from their Messiah when he appeared? We can detect an underlying current that some people thought Jesus would overthrow Roman rule and restore the theocracy. But the prophetic passages from Isaiah in the early chapters seem to paint a different picture.
For example, the first four chapters of John’s gospel seem to have a pretty solid connection with Isaiah 9, which is just a couple chapters after the “Immanuel” prophecy Matthew cites. Here’s Isaiah 9:1–2:
Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future he will honor Galilee of the nations, by the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan—
Jesus’s family is from Nazareth in Galilee, so it’s natural that the gospel writers would make this connection. The concept of “Light” is mentioned several times in John 1–4. Jesus was the light of the world and was there in the beginning participating in the creative process with God. That sounds like a direct reference to Day 1 of creation: “Let there be light!” He’s the Son of God, firstborn over all creation.
John 3:19–21 seems to be a summary statement or conclusion for the first half of chapter 3:
19 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.[6]
The gloom and darkness of Isaiah 9:1 is laid bare: it’s because people hate the light and the goodness and transparency it represents. Jesus is coming to break through that, however. Jesus is the “light to the Gentiles” as well as to the Jews. This is why in John 4, the gospel writer says that Jesus “must go through Samaria” to get to Galilee. He’s going to bring hope to his ancestral (from an earthly perspective) home where Jacob’s well is still a prominent feature of the landscape.
Another popular Isaiah passage is chapter 40. This is the passage that John the Baptist cites about himself:
Jesus is going to level the playing field for everyone. No more ethnic distinctions or privileges. No more legal scorekeeping as to who is more righteous than whom. No more obstacles like the veil of the temple to impede access to God. Jesus is the Waymaker.
We also see this as Jesus takes to the podium in the synagogue when he quotes Isaiah 61 about himself:
18 “The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
No more distinctions between economic status; no more discrimination based on your health status. Jesus is here to set you free from the things that keep you from hearing and receiving the good news with joy and gladness in your hearts.
Isaiah 42 and 49 both hint at the Servant-Savior’s connection to Isaiah 9:
42:5 This is what God the Lord says—
the Creator of the heavens, who stretches them out,
who spreads out the earth with all that springs from it,
who gives breath to its people,
and life to those who walk on it:
6 “I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness;
I will take hold of your hand.
I will keep you and will make you
to be a covenant for the people
and a light for the Gentiles,
7 to open eyes that are blind,
to free captives from prison
and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.[9]
49:6 It is too small a thing for you to be my servant
to restore the tribes of Jacob
and bring back those of Israel I have kept.
I will also make you a light for the Gentiles,
that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.”[10]
Just like God told Moses at the burning bush, the prophets are telling us that Jesus has got this. All we need to do is heed the prophets and go forth in faith and in faithfulness proclaiming the Good News wherever we roam. In fact, Isaiah 49:8 tells us God will make a covenant with us the Servant-Savior will be with us to strengthen us for the challenge.
We’ve met Jesus. We know what he wants to do through us. But we need to know who we are to him as well. Yesterday in our men’s group study at my home church, one of the guys was saying he was just “dung.” I know what he meant; he didn’t have a self-esteem problem. He’s a faithful saint who is on fire for the Lord. He’s in his 70s and takes care of his wife at home who is slowly deteriorating from Alzheimer’s. But I felt I had to correct him. I don’t think we’re being fair to ourselves to be so self-deprecating when God has told us who we are to him.
Psalm 139 says we’re fearfully and wonderfully made. Peter tells us that we’re a kingdom of priests, a holy nation, a people who belong to God! God redeems us! Paul says in Romans that Christ died for us even in our “ungodly” state. Paul says in Ephesians that we are God’s handiwork, just like all your beautiful quilts!
Paul’s greeting to the Corinthians in his first letter to them puts it succinctly and beautifully: “to those sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be his holy people, together with all those everywhere who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ—their Lord and ours:
3 Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”[12]
This is who we are in Christ! As we go forth from here this morning, let us bear that in mind so we can be shining lights in a dark world that surrounds us. Amen!
[3]The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. From a text-critical perspective, if ὁ ἐκλεκτὸς τοῦ θεοῦ comes from the original hand of John, then it does make some sense that numerous other copyists of the day would have tried to harmonize that with all of the other references to ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ θεοῦ in the four gospels. In other words, the guiding principle here to restore “Chosen One” is that it is the more difficult reading of the passage and thus more likely to have been “adjusted” or edited out. Then again, the phrase may have been so familiar as to cause the copyists to hear ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ θεοῦ instead of ἐκλεκτὸς. However, I should note that Metzger and the GNT editors chose with [B] confidence to side with the majority text and use υἱὸς(Metzger, Bruce Manning, United Bible Societies. 1994. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, Second Edition a Companion Volume to the United Bible Societies’ Greek New Testament (4th Rev. Ed.). London; New York: United Bible Societies.) NOTE: I think I may have said “Psalm 42” here instead of the correct “Isaiah 42.”
As you know, today is the third Sunday of Advent, where we focus on the Joy for what Christ brings to our lives. I’m sure most of you know that there’s a difference between joy and happiness. Happiness comes from the things that happen around us. The word comes to us through the Middle English word hap, which in that time meant luck, fortune, fate, or one’s lot in life. The word had either a positive sense (“good fortune”) or a negative sense (“hard times” or a “hard lot” in life) depending on context. In modern English, of course, it’s been entirely infused with the positive meaning “happy as a lark.” It may be more of a surface feeling as well. It’s a feeling that can come and go depending on life’s circumstances.
Joy, on the other hand, is happiness on steroids if you will, at least according to Merriam-Webster. Their dictionary defines it as “a feeling of great happiness or pleasure; delight”; “a state of great happiness”; and “a source or cause of delight.” It comes from a Latin word that means “rejoice.” No surprise there. It does imply something much deeper than happiness, as the definitions suggest, something intangible, something you can’t quite put your finger on.
I experienced this feeling of joy recently, and I’d like to share it with you. Jill’s daughter Rebecca moved in with us almost three years ago when she was struggling trying to find her way in the COVID mess. Within about a year, she managed to land a job working for the Hilton Hotel downtown scheduling reservations for large events at the hotel or downtown. As it turned out, she found her niche. This past year, one of her biggest projects was working with teams and large fan groups coming for the College World Series. She was feeling the success.
In the meantime, she also rekindled her love for singing and performing by auditioning for and joining the River City Mixed Chorus, the largest chorus of its kind in the Omaha area. Last Saturday they had their annual Christmas/Holiday concert at the Holland. After the concert I paid attention to how family and friends of the chorus were excited about the evening. That really touched me to witness that. The evening was extra special in that Rebecca found out just before the concert that her bid on a house was accepted. That was the icing on the cake for the evening.
As you might imagine, when Jill and I first got together 12 years ago, it was a bit of a rough go for me and for her two teenage girls at the time. But as a man of God, I was determined to prove my mettle and stay the course by showing them just how much I loved their mom and how willing I was to support her girls in their various pursuits. Today, I have a great relationship with her grown-up and fully employed daughters. I told Rebecca last Saturday night how proud I was of her success, and I got choked up trying to get the words out of my mouth. To me, that was true joy. I felt in my heart, and I could see it in Rebecca as well. For me, that was a real moment of joy.
In our gospel passage this morning, Jesus’s cousin John the Baptizer was looking for a “sign” or a reason to be joyful in the midst of his struggles in prison. He already knew Jesus was the Messiah but he still, apparently, didn’t understand what that would look like. He sent his own messengers to ask Jesus if he was the Messiah, and Jesus’s answer did not disappoint. John may have had the same expectation others had about the Messiah when he came, that he would overthrow Roman rule and restore the theocracy.
But when Jesus offers up the “evidence” that he wants John’s disciples to take back to John, none of it has to do with political power. It has to do with restoring joy and hope to oppressed people or those gravely impacted by life’s circumstances. Think about the emotional reaction of the people who benefited from Jesus’s ministry.
The blind receive their sight: Imagine not being able to see anything, then all of the sudden one day, Jesus shows up in your town and gives you back your sight. This would be more than just a “happy” moment: you would be filled with joy to discover all that you’ve been missing: the blue sky; the beauty of the human form; the colors of flowers and birds; and so forth. You would be leaping for joy! Our neighbor when we lived in Aksarben had a color-blind son. A company called Pilestone developed a series of lenses that allow color-blind people to better distinguish colors, and he happened to get the glasses. His mom posted a video of him experiencing the vividness of color for the first time wearing these glasses. That was truly a joyful moment for that young man and his family.
How about the lame walking? A few chapters earlier in Matthew, we see Jesus tell a lame man that his sins are forgiven, and to prove that he has the power to forgive sins, Jesus also heals the man and tells him to pick up his bed and walk away free of his disability. Not only was the man overjoyed, but the text in Matthew 9 indicates “the crowd was filled with awe; and they praised God, who had given such authority to man.” We see this early in the book of Acts as well, when the apostles effectuate God’s healing: Peter speaks healing to a lame beggar in Acts 3, and the man “jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God.”[1]
Jesus had healed 10 people with leprosy at one point. The Bible commanded that people healed of leprosy show themselves to the priest to be declared clean. The 10 did that, but for whatever reason, only one was joyful enough to return to Jesus and give him thanks. This story is certainly relevant today: how many of us miss out on joy by failing to realize or acknowledge that God himself is the source of that joy. Even joy, though it tends to affect us deeper in our souls and lasts longer, can fade if we don’t recognize the everlasting joy we can have from our heavenly father.
The deaf hear. Just like the blind man; being able to experience any of your senses for the first time as an adult. Imagine being able to hear and understand words you’ve only experienced by sight on a page. Think about that for a minute: if you were completely deaf and suddenly could hear someone speaking for the first time, how would know what sounds go with each letter? If you can read lips, that might help you make the connection. That challenge would pale, I think, when compared next to the joy of hearing again.
The dead are raised. Lazarus wasn’t the only dead person Jesus brought back to life. He also raised Jairus’s daughter. I’ve come close to experiencing that several times in the past few years. My friend Jim contracted hepatitis at a family Thanksgiving meal a few years ago and his liver began to fail. He had gotten to the point where he was asking me to do his funeral. But something divine happened to him to change his mind about getting a liver transplant, and he’s still with us today. My sister Lindee recovered from her complicated liver issues after a liver transplant as well this year. She still has a couple challenges left to navigate, but she’s well on the road to full recovery. Another Jim who’s a good friend was at death’s door in the first year of COVID. His wife had talked to me about funeral arrangements. But he’s recovered now and still leads our men’s group study today. I and the families of these friends are glad to still have them around. Each in their own way represents what joy is all about.
The final thing Jesus mentions to John’s disciples is that the good news, the gospel, is preached to the poor. All these things are a direct reference to the Messianic prophecy in Isaiah 35:4–6:
John the Baptist understood why Jesus responded the way he did. The passage from Isaiah is the precursor to the messianic sections of Isaiah that speak of a suffering servant. John was beginning to understand what Jesus certainly already did: Jesus would ultimately die for the sins of the whole human race. Jesus didn’t come to break the power of Rome. He came to break the power of a corrupted religion that enslaved people to a legalistic, punitive view of God. The power of religious leadership was in holding this threat of the judgment of God over the heads of the people.
But Jesus turned that on its head. John realized that Jesus came so people could have their sins forgiven, not to be judged for them. The “vengeance” Isaiah speaks of is not against all mankind generally, but against those who had corrupted the message of the Bible. God loves us. That was Jesus’s message as well. But not only that God loves us, but that God wants us to spend eternity with him in a glorified state. He wants us to experience true healing and true joy for all eternity.
In the last part of our gospel passage this morning, Jesus asks the crowd about John the Baptist: why did you come out to see him? What did you expect? The answer was straightforward. John the Baptist wasn’t a sharp-dressed man who gave pep talks. He was the one who preceded Jesus to prepare the way for him. He was the first prophet in 400 years, except instead of prophesying to and about the kings of Judah and Israel, he was prophesying about the Pharisees and the Sadducees. The people flocked to him because John had the courage to stand up to them and tell them what many Jews to that time had been harboring in their hearts: “Your ways, O Pharisees, sap our strength and rob us of hope. Someone is coming who has a much better way than yours.”
Let me flip this question around and ask it in the context of our world today, December 14, 2025. Many people come to church at Christmas (and Easter) that don’t come to church regularly. What are they looking for when they come to church? Being with family may be part of that, but are they perhaps coming because they want to hear that message of hope and joy for themselves? Are they coming because they think Jesus as a baby and the whole manger scene is cute and not in the least bit threatening? Or are they coming because they want to experience awesome, transformative power of forgiveness from a risen Savior who has conquered death? Are they coming out of a sense of obligation, or are they coming because they want to experience a vibrant and encouraging fellowship with other Christ-followers? The Christmas season isn’t the only time of the year where we consider why and how Jesus came to dwell among us. Many Christians look for that weekly and practice that weekly year-round. Why? Because they find a continuous source of joy, help, hope, and strength in their church communities.
This Christmas season, reach out to those who need to know and experience the fellowship of the body of Christ. Let us go forth from here and be beacons of hope and light. May God richly bless you this Christmas season, and merry Christmas to all! Amen.
I preached this sermon at Mount View Presbyterian Church on November 23, 2025. It was the last Sunday of Year C of the Lectionary Calendar, commonly known as Reign of Christ the King Sunday. It was also the Sunday before Thanksgiving and the Sunday before the first Sunday in Advent. I had not checked the advanced copy of the church bulletin thinking they would have the Lectionary gospel reading for the day printed, but as it turned out, they had a Thanksgiving Service planned (more music), so I hadn’t prepared a message based on the reading. I went ahead preached the message I had prepared, which worked out find, because with more music, the service was a little longer than usual, and my message had been shorter than usual. I’ve also included some links to past Advent messages since the season is upon us.
We had a soup lunch afterwards and had a drawing to give away a few of the quilts our ladies had made. I won what I’m calling my Joseph Quilt. It is a nice sized quilt worked on by several of the ladies. My mom provided the stitching/decoration around the border.
Have you ever seen one of those movies where they start with some dramatic scene. In the cop shows, it’s usually a murder or finding someone badly injured in an unexpected place. In a Hallmark movie, it might be a wedding scene or a passionate kiss (we all know that’s coming in the Hallmark movie, so no need to put it off until the end!). But then in the next scene, the graphic pops up: “Six months earlier.” The opening scene has gone by so quickly that you didn’t even get a chance to figure out much about who the characters are, then you’re thrust back in time and have to figure it out all over again.
Today we come to the conclusion of the liturgical calendar: “Reign of Christ the King” Day. It’s hard to believe Advent (and the new liturgical year) starts next week. The Lectionary is kind of like those movies I mentioned earlier. Even though we read about the crucifixion of Jesus this morning, we’re not going to get back to that dramatic event of the Resurrection that kicked off the last eight months of the calendar until Easter next year.
This past year, we’ve journeyed through the gospel of Luke, which has the most material on the life of Jesus. Five months ago, we read in Luke 9:51 that Jesus “resolutely set out for Jerusalem.” The rest of Luke’s gospel from that point on is set in that context of Jesus knowing his life would be cut short. Yet he continued loving, healing, and teaching the masses about God’s true love for them. He also did not shy away from confronting the religious leaders of his day for their abuse of the spiritual authority God had entrusted to them. That violation of God’s trust brings us to where we are today in the gospel, the crucifixion.
Luke has details in this story that the other three gospel writers do not have. Luke is the only one who has Jesus saying “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” He wasn’t just talking about how the Roman soldiers were treating him either. Matthew and Mark tell us that the criminals who were crucified with Jesus were BOTH hurling insults at him, but Luke indicates that one of them must have had a change of heart after hearing Jesus say “Father forgive them” and asked Jesus for forgiveness in his last hour. Jesus, of course, granted it.
The religious leaders were jeering and sneering at him as well. “He saved others, or so he claims! Let him save himself if he’s the Messiah!” One might expect that kind of behavior from criminals, but from those who had presumably dedicated their lives to serving God at the Temple or in the local synagogues? You know you must be getting close to the corruption and hardness of heart when the people who should be on your side are rejecting you for your teachings.
Even though our gospel reading stops just short of the final moments of the crucifixion, we are all familiar enough with that story to finish it from memory. And we know that because Christ defeated death and rose again into his heavenly glory, he lives and reigns as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. While his kingdom is here on earth, it is not of this world. Paul says in Ephesians 1:3 that God has “blessed us [i.e., Christ followers] in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. It was evident from the moment of Pentecost that God had begun a new work in his people through the empowering of the Holy Spirit sent to us by our risen Savior.
As Christ followers, then, we are by default emissaries of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. In the rest of the New Testament we see Paul and the other apostles planting and shepherding churches that are growing by leaps and bounds in various places. In many cases, the word of God has already spread to places where Paul had yet to travel because other believers were doing that missionary work as well. In the first chapter of Paul’s letter to the Colossians, we get a glimpse at Paul’s heart for them in the first chapter. Paul praises them for having a faith that is “bearing fruit and growing” in their hearts and around the world. Let’s pick up his praise for them in verse 9:
9 For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, t10 so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, 11 being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, 12 and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light. 13 For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. [1]
Paul has incredible respect for the Colossians and wants to ensure they continue on the path of growing in righteousness and faithfulness. This is significant in that Colossae was an incredibly diverse town in south-central Asia Minor. He wants them to be filled “with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives.” Paul has a similar thought for the Ephesians in the opening of that letter: “18 I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe.”[2]
In Colossians 1:6, Paul affirms that the gospel is “bearing fruit and growing through the whole world. He reassures the Colossians are doing their small part to contribute to that in vs. 10.
Being strengthened in all power means that they understand the working of the Holy Spirit in their lives. They do have some challenges, apparently, with some coming among them making “fine sounding arguments” against the gospel. But Paul has confidence that their knowledge will help them discern false teachings and stay the course of the true gospel with patient endurance.
They are also continually giving thanks because they’ve been rescued from darkness. They believed the gospel and have been living it out boldly because they know they’ve been forgiven and redeemed.
After praising them, Paul continues from verse 15 talking about the supremacy of Christ and why he reigns as King of Kings and Lord of Lords:
15 The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. 16 For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 19 For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. [3]
The concept of Jesus being the “firstborn” here seems to have a dual meaning. In verse 15, Paul says Jesus is the firstborn over all creation. That seems to suggest what we learn from John, that Jesus, the light of the world, was the “light” that God created on Day One of creation. A few verses later, in verse 18, Paul calls Jesus “the beginning,” which would seem to confirm the Genesis theory, but the then also calls Jesus “firstborn from the dead.” John also uses the phrase “firstborn from the dead” of Jesus in the opening chapter of Revelation (1:5). This of course is a reference to his resurrection.
Even though there are a few others in the history of the Bible who were raised from the dead, they all came back to life in their original human bodies. Jesus is the first one whose body was raised from the dead AND transfigured into its heavenly version. That earns him the title of head of the church—King of Kings and Lord of Lords—having supremacy over everything. This supremacy is not only for this world, but in the heavenly realms as well as Paul indicates.
Harkening back to Ephesians 3:10, we see that we have a role in proclaiming the gospel not only here but also in the heavenly realms. “10 His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms.”[4] The passage in Ephesians 6 on the armor of God reaffirms our role in fighting the good fight not only against flesh and blood, but against the powers in the heavenly realms. We have the divine protection and strength to stand firm in those battles because of Christ’s victory over death and the redemption he won for us. Not only does he reign as King of Kings and Lord of Lords in our lives, but he has also provided the means for us to walk faithfully in this world.
As we wrap up the liturgical year and look toward Advent and the Christmas season, we can take comfort and courage in having citizenship in the kingdom of Christ. A blessed Thanksgiving to all of you this week, and please join us for the meal after service. Amen.
I preached this message May 18, 2025, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE. Fifth Sunday after Easter, Year C.
I find it interesting that in the weeks after Easter, the gospel passages in the Lectionary are revisiting Jesus’s Holy Week events. That probably shouldn’t surprise us with John’s gospel, though, as the last half of his gospel deals with the events of Holy Week. One explanation for this, I think, is that Jesus taught his disciples so much in that last week, and much of it occurred, apparently, immediately after the “Last Supper.” Given what happened in the 24 hours that followed that last supper, I think it’s safe to say that the apostles probably didn’t remember too much of that teaching. It’s a good thing John wrote it down, then! This gives them the opportunity to revisit those precious final moments with Jesus and to review his teachings to see what they missed about his death and resurrection.
Since we’re going back to Holy Week, and especially since today’s passage comes after John’s unique account of the Last Supper, I think it’s worth it to take a look at his account, especially, and add in the details that Matthew, Mark, and Luke provide. At the beginning of John 13, we see that the meal is already in progress, but we don’t get the “ritual” language we’ve become accustomed to from the other three gospels.
There’s no “This is my body” or “This cup is the new covenant in my blood poured out for the forgiveness of sins” in John’s gospel. That’s not to say there’s a contradiction here in the storyline: John focuses on a more radical form of demonstrating the forgiveness that would come from the shed blood of the Messiah. He tells us that the Messiah himself washes the feet of ALL the disciples. When Jesus gets to Peter, we find out a little more about Jesus’s motivation for doing this: “Unless I wash you, you have not part with me.” Jesus turns this act of service into a living, “practical” memorial that his disciples would not soon forget. Not only has he said his blood would bring forgiveness; he touches each one of the disciples, even Judas, who he knows will sell him and out, and Peter the denier, to give them “muscle memory” of forgiveness.
Matthew, Mark, and Luke all say something about the bread and the cup. Matthew and Mark both say simply: “This is my body,” while Luke adds two extra phrases: “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19). Notice that none of the gospel writers ever say, “This is my body broken for you,” although the piece of unleavened bread in this part of the ceremony was the only one formally broken. The church through history almost naturally added in that bit about “broken for you” to parallel what happens to the bread. Note also the references to the cup in the three synoptic Gospel accounts have Jesus saying that the wine is “the new covenant in my blood” or “the blood of my covenant.” Matthew is the only one who connects the blood with the forgiveness of sins.
One thing that Jesus says in all three gospel accounts may get overlooked: “I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”[1] Jesus here is looking far beyond his own time with this statement: he’s looking ahead to his second coming where we will share in the glorious feast of the Lamb with him in heaven. It’s also worth noting here that Jesus still considers what he’s drinking is “the fruit of the vine” and NOT blood at all.
But this also begs the question: what does Jesus mean when he says, “This IS my body” and “This IS the new covenant in my blood”? I think as Presbyterians we can agree there is not some mystical transubstantiation of the wine into Jesus’s blood. Nor is there a mystical transubstantiation of the bread into the flesh of Christ. But I also don’t think the cup and the bread are merely “symbols” either. I prefer to use the word “signify” to describe the elements because they do have significance for my faith.
In this way, communion is akin to baptism. What does Paul say about baptism in Romans 6:3? “Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?”[2] Baptism signifies (there’s that word again) that we have come in contact with blood of Christ, which Matthew affirms is for the forgiveness of sins. That is our “initiation” rite, a marker or monument, if you will, that God has done something special in our lives and that we are set apart for something special. The water doesn’t become the blood of Christ when we’re baptized. But in a way that only God knows, the waters of baptism are infused with the power of spiritual cleansing and renewal.
Communion, then, is our regular connection with our baptism, because in communion, as we’ve said, we also encounter the blood of Christ, or what it signifies, in the cup at the communion table. The bread reminds us of the physical suffering Christ endured on the cross. But it also reminds us that we are all part of the body of Christ as well—that’s why we take it together, whether it’s monthly, weekly, or whenever we gather in his name. Out of all the different denominations out there, communion reminds us what we have in common: faith in Christ.
I’ve been studying what the Bible says about communion for quite a long time. It was the topic of one of my early blog posts. In my home church, we take it every Sunday, because that seems to be the practice of the early church in Acts. But my church also typically qualifies it when giving the communion meditation: “If you’re a believer in Christ, we invite you to participate.” There’s no official check for membership or a communicant’s card. Just a simple question to be answered on your honor. Some denominations or branches of mainline denominations require you to be a member of the church. Others may even suggest you’re committing heresy or blasphemy if you take communion in a church where you’re not a member.
The variety in how communion or the eucharist is handled in the modern church concerns me. Communion should be about what Jesus accomplished on the cross, not about your personal affiliation with a particular church. In that early blog article, A Truly Open Communion?, I asked the question this way:
If Jesus calls sinners to himself and eats with them; if Jesus broke bread at the Last Supper with a table full of betrayers and deserters; if Jesus can feed 5,000 men in addition to the women and children with just a few loaves of bread and some fish; why do many churches officially prohibit the Lord’s Table (communion, Eucharist) from those who are not professed Christ-followers, or worse, from those professed Christ-followers who are struggling with sin or divorce or other problems?
Should we really be denying or discouraging those who come to church looking for forgiveness and a connection to the body of Christ the very elements that Jesus uses to signify those things—the bread and the cup? Author John Mark Hicks says this in talking about communion as a “missional table”:
The table is a place where Jesus receives sinners and confronts the righteous; a place where Jesus extends grace to seekers but condemns the self-righteous. Jesus is willing to eat with sinners in order to invite them into the kingdom, but he points out the discontinuity between humanity’s tables…and the table in the kingdom of God.[3]
The implication here is that Jesus is in our midst in a special way, I think, not just because “two or three are gathered in his name,” but because we are doing this “in remembrance” of Jesus. The Old Testament concept of “remembering” is what is key here. In the Old Testament, when the writer says something like, “Then God remembered his promise to Abraham” or “Then God remembered his covenant with Israel,” this not God just calling a set of facts to mind. When God remembers like this, he also acts, and usually in a mighty way.
So when we remember, I believe it is also a call to action on our part, to be empowered by the presence of the Holy Spirit in that moment to make a commitment to action for the days that follow. It’s similar to what Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:23–24): “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.”[4] By his blood we are forgiven and cleansed to start afresh. By remembering Christ, we are empowered to go out and serve.
As we come to today’s gospel passage again, we find ourselves at the end of the dining part of the Last Supper gathering. Jesus wants this time to be memorable for his disciples, because he tells them this is the last time they’re going to have any meaningful contact with him, at least in his earthly form. John makes a point of saying “When [Judas] was gone,” Jesus began delivering his final instructions, his “action plan” if you will, to give them assurance that they will have the guidance of the Holy Spirit after his death, burial, resurrection, and ascension. All of the elements leading up to his crucifixion have been set in motion, and there’s no turning back now.
That is why Jesus can say, “Now the Son of Man is glorified and God is glorified in him.” He knows what is about to happen. Although Jesus will experience many strong emotions, including betrayal, abandonment, and those associated with excruciating pain, he knows the end result will benefit all mankind for eternity. It’s the day he prepared for but perhaps had hoped would never come, or at least had hoped he would not have to endure alone. He knows the days ahead will be difficult, so he gives them a new command.
“Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34).
That word “as” carries a huge load with it. It’s not the regular word for “as” in Greek, which is also a two-letter word. The word John uses is a compound word that has the sense of its root words: “love one another according to the way I loved you.” The theme of this new command is found in a few other verses in this part of John, as well as in Luke 6:31: “Treat others according to the way you want to be treated.” “Love” is less about a feeling and more about action. Earlier in John 13, Jesus says, “I have set you an example that you should act toward others according to the way I have acted toward you.” In 15:9, he says, “I have loved you according to the way the Father has loved me,” and then repeats the command from John 13 a few verses later.
Showing this radical, sacrificial, agape kind of love that expects nothing in return is how we show the world we are Jesus followers. It calls us in some cases to reach out beyond our comfort zones and to be hospitable and welcoming to strangers. The author of Hebrews exhorts us in this way in 13:1: “Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. 2 Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.”[5] We could all use an angel in our lives from time to time, right? The first chapter of Hebrews (1:14) mentions the function of angels: “Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?”[6] God uses angels, in conjunction with the Holy Spirit, to empower and enable us to show love to others. But I digress just a bit.
God demonstrated his great love for us in Jesus through his life among us, his crucifixion, and his resurrection. I want to bring in the last couple verses of our reading from Psalm 148 this morning, because it is one of the foundational prophecies that show us what the Israelites expected of the Messiah, and Jesus proved faithful to that promise:
Jesus is our horn, the strength that we need to endure each day. Let us continue to hold fast to our Savior so that the world will know him, his salvation, and the power and love of God Almighty. Amen!
[3] Hicks, John Mark. “The Lord’s Supper as Eschatological Table” in Evangelicalism and the Stone-Campbell Movement, Volume 2: Engaging Basic Christian Doctrine. William R. Baker, ed. Abilene: ACU Press, 2006.
With apologies to VP JD Vance for mimicking his title.
I do not do much personal reflection in this blog. I’m mostly about exegesis (studying the text of the Bible in its original languages), hermeneutics (applying the results of exegesis to the understanding and meaning of the Bible), and lately homiletics (declaring the understanding and meaning of the Bible, especially as a sermon or homily, or in this case, a blog post). This ties in with the taglines for my blog that I put on my “business” card: “Dig deeper. Read Smarter. Draw Closer.” This past weekend, I took the opportunity to go to Fort Robinson State Park in northwest Nebraska to share in a fly fishing expedition with several guys (and the wife of one of them) from our church, including our pastor. The Fort Robinson area has several excellent fishing areas, including several streams and creeks; the first ten miles or so of the White River, which ultimately runs through the Badlands in South Dakota and empties into the Missouri River; and several ponds. Many of these locations are stocked by the State fisheries with trout and other popular species of freshwater fish.
I had never done fly fishing before, but the chance to get away and spend some time with friends old and new outweighed any anxiety I may have had about that. I only spent a few hours fishing at a couple ponds and in the White River, but it was long enough for me to observe others doing it, and I got pretty good at the casting part. I had a few curious little fish check out my fly, but never did land anything, which was okay by me. I was just grateful to be there.
Putting the Pieces Together
Part 1: Reflecting on Exegesis
The timing of the trip was divinely appointed for me as it coincided with some serious reflection I’ve been doing about the relationship between the depth of Bible study I typically do (“Dig Deeper”) and what I expect from the small groups I attend or help lead. That reflection was prompted by a recent post from one of the other pastor-bloggers on WordPress, Veritas Domain, and his short article about his “simplified” exegetical method. His method is similar to mine in that there is a heavy focus on the text itself, which is not unusual. I’m trained in Greek and Hebrew, so I start with those texts first, or at least have them open in parallel with the English translation so I can take note of key words (“Read Smarter”). If I’ve done those first two steps, the “Draw Closer” principle usually follows quite nicely.
In my comment back to “SlimJim,” I mentioned that my method was similar, but along with that, I’m finding that my experience with the two small groups I’m connected with at my church and even with my preaching is that having the knowledge that comes from that kind of in-depth study may not always go over well with those who don’t have that specialized training. In our men’s group, I can typically get away with sharing that when I feel it adds something to the discussion, but even then, one of my friends in the group (who happens to be a preacher’s kid) will sometimes say “All that is nice to know, but I want to know what makes me a better Christian, a better man of God.” That is, he wants to get to the “Draw Closer” part.
This brought to mind an article I read a number of years ago (a 1997 issue of Leadership magazine) by Haddon Robinson, in which he’s quoted as saying, “More heresy is preached in application than in exegesis.” In other words, some of us preachers may be pretty good at exegeting and interpreting God’s word, but how are we doing about translating that into action for our respective audiences? Does it really matter if a divine command is in the aorist tense versus the perfect tense if we don’t follow the command ourselves or encourage our audiences to follow the command, or worse, manipulate the command with malicious intent?
Part 2: The Fort Robinson Retreat
I had decided I would drive to Fort Robinson from Omaha, where I live, by way of Nebraska State Highways 92 (first half) and 2 (second half). Together, those two routes take you through the heart of the State, east to west. In addition, Highway 2 runs through the heart of the Sandhills. If you look at a satellite view of Earth along Highway 2, you’ll see that these Sandhills look like a bunch of sand dunes, but they all have grass growing on them, and several small ponds or lakes are scattered throughout. As I was driving through the Sandhills and listening to Rich Mullins and the Passion CDs (yeah, those date me), I began to understand what the Holy Spirit was trying to teach me. But he was only getting started.
I arrived at Fort Robinson State Park after dark, but not so late that I didn’t get to connect with my church friends who had already been there for a full day. We had breakfast the next morning at a small café in nearby Crawford, then struck out to fish. I went with a friend who had been in my small group when I moved back to Nebraska in 2010 and two of his (now grown) sons whom I hadn’t seen in quite some time. It was my first time fly fishing, so my goal was to get the hang of casting and extending my line. We tried the Ice House pond and then walked about a mile to couple bends in the White River (only about 10 miles from its headwater at that point, so no more than about eight feet wide if that. I had a few nibbles at the pond, but nothing in the river. From there we went back to the Grabel ponds, where I finished out the morning having developed a pretty good technique to cast and extend my line, even landing it on top of a 12-inch fish and spooking it away for a moment.
While I was at the section of the White River, I couldn’t help but think and marvel about how God created a means for distributing life-giving water throughout a continent (I knew the term “hydrology,” but I had to look up “limnology” as I was writing this paragraph), especially since, at the end of this month, my brother and I will be at the other end of the White River in South Dakota where it flows through the Badlands (and earns the name “White” from its sediment) and into the Missouri River south of Chamberlain for another fishing trip. God’s creation is an amazing and wonderful thing. That was what the Holy Spirit was continuing to show me, but not for the reason you might think.
Part 3: Sowbelly Canyon Road
One of the sights I had heard about from the guys who had gone up the previous year was Sowbelly Canyon, just north of Harrison, Nebraska. I had no idea what to expect from a “canyon” in Nebraska; certainly nothing like Poudre River Canyon in Colorado where my wife’s family has a cabin. Poudre Canyon is about 50 miles long, and the Poudre River is relatively wide in the canyon. Sow Belly is unique in its own way and was surprisingly beautiful and “cool” in more ways than one. I wish my wife would have been able to come along on this trip.
As you’re driving west on US 20 toward Harrison, you see nothing but a bunch of gently rolling hills on either side of the highway. One would never expect a place of such beauty was just beyond those rolling hills. Even as you crest the top of the canyon, you see an amazing sight below: a single lane dirt road running under a canopy of trees, with unusual rock formations atop the buttes, some of which have formed at right angles. The descent is moderately steep, and at times you have a wall of the canyon on your right (descending) and your left (ascending). At the bottom of the canyon is a small, babbling brook that must have taken a few centuries to form the canyon.
Just before you get to the end of Sowbelly Road on the east end (where it joins Pants Butte Road; no, I’m not making that name up), there’s a spot where you can see at least 80 miles to the north to the Black Hills in South Dakota (the dark mound in the far horizon). Something special happened between God and me via the Holy Spirit on that road, and especially with this particular view. I gained a whole new appreciation for the beauty, majesty, and grandeur of God’s creation. I’d expect something like that in Colorado; I never expected that in seemingly plain old northwestern Nebraska. Boy, was I wrong. What God had started teaching me in the Sandhills came to full fruition at the top of Sowbelly Road.
Part 4: Worldview, Wonder, and Wisdom
So let me bring this all together now. You might remember I started out talking about exegetical methods, methods that were heavily focused on the textual features like grammar, syntax, verb mood and tense, etc. Then it hit me: nothing in my exegetical method intentionally accounts for the majesty and glory of God and his creation. I knew I had to work that in somehow. But God still had one more piece to show me, and it hit me last night at our last small group of the season. Our senior pastor had been with us on this trip, but Sunday morning, one of the teaching pastors was preaching on the trauma Job experienced. I had tried to listen to it Sunday morning while driving through the remotest part of western Nebraska, but just couldn’t get a steady signal.
Fortunately, our Tuesday night group covered it in the study last night, and it was when we were talking about the ending of the book of Job that everything God had been teaching me finally made sense. Job had been arguing with God and his friends about how righteous he was and how he had always given God glory and so on, but God put him in his place. God recounts for Job all that He did by questioning Job: Did you lay the foundations of the earth? Did you create Leviathan and Behemoth? Who are you to tell me how I should act toward you?
That’s when I realized that I’m like Job in that moment. I think I have such a great exegetical method that will keep my doctrine sound and shred every stronghold that tries to set itself against God Almighty, but God’s word is more than the text and the grammar and verb moods and tenses and the participles and the conditional clauses. Those things are static, unchanging. But what does Hebrews 4:12 say? “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.”[1] Can grammar and syntax do that? I think not.
The other thing that occurred to me is the backstory of how the Jews would understand God’s word versus us gentile Christians. I’ll use just one example here: Communion, or as some call it, the Lord’s Supper or the Eucharist. When we look at the elements (“substantiational” leanings aside), we are meant to experience Christ in some way by “remembering” him. We see one man crucified and risen. But what do Jews remember at Passover? Not one man dying, but ALL the firstborn dying who weren’t protected by the blood of the lamb that they themselves applied to their doorways. They remember God parting the Red Sea so the Israelites could escape the oncoming Egyptians. The disciples didn’t understand immediately that Christ’s death had won them forgiveness and freedom. The Jews DID understand that immediately, with hearts pounding witnessing the very miracles of God at work to rescue them, even as they would tell the stories year after year to their descendants.
Conclusion
In other words, when I exegete and interpret Scripture, I need to look beyond the text and the grammar and all the other “in-the-weeds” details to comprehend a grand vision of a great God and all that he has done and made. That’s where the “draw closer” takes place, as it did for me this past weekend, when I understood who I am in God’s kingdom and that, in spite of his greatness and grandeur, he looks with love at the least of us, at the humblest of us, at our faithfulness. He looks with compassion at those who are lost and searching and even at those who may be angry with him or agnostic toward him, prompting us to share God’s “living and active” word with those who have not yet comprehended that greater vision.
From this point forward, then, I’m adding a couple permanent elements of my “principlizing bridge” (to use Grasping God’s Word’s language) will be to ask first, “How does this passage reveal the glory and majesty and mystery of God to the world?” and second, “How is this passage ‘alive and active’ not only to me but to those I encounter as well?” I feel like I drew a little closer to God this weekend. I pray that my testimony here will do the same for you.
Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.
All contents herein are the creative and intellectual property of this author unless otherwise attributed.
Sunday Morning Greek Blog 