Sunday Morning Greek Blog

April 20, 2025

Running the Resurrection Race (Easter 2025; John 20:1–18)

I delivered this message Easter (Resurrection Sunday), April 20, 2025, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, Nebraska. I focused on the theme of “running,” picking up on the account of Peter and John “racing” to the tomb.

Good morning! Hallelujah, Jesus is Risen!

The Bible has a running theme. No, seriously, the Bible talks a lot about “running” in the context of our faith. Consider these two verses from 2 Samuel 22:29–30 (par. Psalm 18:28–29) NKJV:

29          “For You are my lamp, O Lord;

The Lord shall enlighten my darkness.

30          For by You I can run against a troop;

By my God I can leap over a wall.[1]

Or how about Psalm 119:32 (NKJV):

I will run the course of Your commandments,

For You shall enlarge my heart.[2]

Then there’s Proverbs 18:10 (NKJV):

10          The name of the Lord is a strong tower;

The righteous run to it and are safe.[3]

The running theme carries over into the New Testament as well, especially in Paul’s letters:

There’s 1 Corinthians 9:24 (NIV): “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize?”[4]

And Galatians 2:2b (NIV): “I wanted to be sure I was not running and had not been running my race in vain.”[5]

Even the author of Hebrews gets in on the theme in 12:1–2a (NIV): “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.”[6]

We see the running theme in the parable of the prodigal or “lost” son in Luke 15:20 (NIV), although in a slightly different way when it comes to the father in the parable:

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”[7]

A few verses later, we learn why the father ran to greet his son: “‘This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.”[8]

I think you see where I’m going with this now, right? In our gospel passage this morning, however, Mary and the disciples aren’t looking for a “lost” or prodigal son, but, as they will realize shortly, the once dead and now risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Mary runs to tell the disciples the news, and Peter and John run, no race back to the tomb to see if what she’s telling them is true. The news was that incredible that they couldn’t just take a casual morning stroll back to the tomb.

Now before I dive into this morning’s passage from John, I want to do a quick sidebar on one of the most common questions people ask about the crucifixion and resurrection. Jesus was crucified on a Friday and rose from the dead on Sunday. That sounds like about 48 hours, right? Two days? But Jesus had predicted all along that he would rise on the third day. He “borrowed” that timeline from the prophet Jonah, who had spent three days and nights in the belly of the great fish. By Jewish reckoning, the first day of anything is “day one.” We see that in Genesis: “There was evening and morning, the first day.” Jesus was arrested (i.e., “swallowed up”) on Thursday evening after sundown and subjected to a rigged trial that was illegal by Jewish laws in several ways had sealed his fate before it even started, so the period from sundown Thursday through sundown Friday was “the first day.” The Sabbath, of course was on Saturday, having begun at sundown Friday night, the second day. This of course makes Sunday the third day. Jesus could have risen any time after sundown Saturday night and would have fulfilled the prophecy of rising on the third day.

In fact, John’s account tells us it was still dark when Mary Magdalene got to the tomb Sunday morning. John says nothing about whether the guards were there. I’m guessing not, though, as they probably ran off terrified that the stone rolled away seemingly all by itself. Matthew says the guards had to make up a story about it, but they most likely would have been disciplined if not executed for their inability to keep a dead man in a tomb. The details differ among the gospel writers, but I’ll stick with John’s narrative here the rest of the way. Mary didn’t wait around to find out what happened. She had apparently looked in the tomb before running back to Peter and John (“the other disciple”) because she told them Jesus wasn’t there anymore.

Peter and John went racing back to the tomb. John made sure he reported that he won the race, but Peter went in first. Isn’t that the reverse of the Prodigal parable? The prodigal Peter, who had denied knowing Jesus three times during the illegal trial, came running back to his savior. It seems odd that they just looked into the tomb and apparently shrugged their shoulders at each other. John tells us that he and Peter found strips of linen there and a separate head cloth when they went into the tomb. Not sure what that means for the Shroud of Turin. But it does suggest that someone had to unwrap Jesus, unless his arms weren’t secured to the body.

Because they still hadn’t put two and two together yet, they decided to head home. No further investigation; no searching for clues or footprints in the dust; no trying to find eyewitnesses that may have seen what happened. What’s especially surprising to me is this: why did they leave Mary Magdalene at the tomb all alone, still crying in grief and shock that someone might have stolen Jesus’s body? Not very gentlemanly of them. And they missed the best part.

Mary, however, did not miss the best part. When she looked into the tomb again, she saw the angels, probably the same ones who unwrapped Jesus’s body that morning. Why weren’t they there when Peter and John went in? Difficult to say, except perhaps that they should have been able to recall Jesus’s teaching about him rising from the dead after three days. Or maybe it’s because Mary was the first one to arrive at the tomb, so she got to be the first one to see him when he made his appearance. Jesus was apparently just freshly resurrected, because Mary couldn’t touch him for whatever reason.

The fact that Mary has a validated claim of being the first to see Jesus risen (besides perhaps the Roman guards) might add some credibility to the resurrection story. If Peter and John had been the first ones to see him alive, it’s possible they could have been accused of a conspiracy to hide the body and say he rose from the dead. It would be more incredible to believe that a couple older Jewish women could have carried his body off than it would be to believe Jesus had risen from the dead.

Jesus told her to go find Peter and the rest of the disciples and let them know he was indeed alive. The disciples don’t have to wait too long to see the risen Savior for themselves. That very night, Jesus would appear to them behind locked doors and reveal himself. Jesus was revealing himself to more and more people and would continue to do so for the next 40 days or so to establish an irrefutable claim that he had indeed risen from the dead. He had won the victory over death and the grave so that we also could live in that hope of the same victory.

What is the message we can take from this passage today, that the disciples ran to see if the hope of Jesus survived his crucifixion? Well, lately I’ve been seeing news reports that people, especially young people, are coming back to church after the COVID shutdowns had decimated many congregations. The White House has established an Office of Faith that is, ostensibly, looking out for the rights of those who live out their faith but have been hounded or cancelled by antireligious forces. We’re even seeing some politicians be more sincerely bold about speaking about faith matters. If we’re in the start of a revival in our country, let’s jump on the bandwagon!

I want to read to you part of an opinion piece that came out Saturday morning from columnist David Marcus. In it, he speaks of the connection between the suffering the church experienced through COVID and the beautiful end result that the church experienced in history after other periods of suffering:

Perhaps we should not be surprised that the bitter cup of COVID led to greater religious observance by Christians. After all the Holy Spirit, speaking through the prophets, has told for thousands of years of periods of loss and suffering that end in the fullness of God’s light.

From the banishment from Eden, to the Flood, to the Exodus, and finally Christ’s 40 days of starvation and temptation in the desert, again and again, it is suffering that brings God’s people closest to Him.

During COVID, our desert was isolation, and especially for young people, it only exacerbated what was already a trend of smartphones replacing playgrounds, of virtual life online slowly supplanting reality.

At church, everything is very real, much as it has been for more than a thousand years. At church, we are never alone. At church, things can be beautiful and true and celebrated, unlike the snark-filled world of our screens that thrives on cruel jokes.

Human beings need a purpose and meaning beyond being a cog in the brave new world of tech. We need connection to our God and to each other.[9]

I hope that Mount View can be a place where you continue to find connection to God. If you’re visiting today, I hope and pray that you’d want to stick around and discover more of that connection to God. And if I may speak from my own heart for a moment, I want to say this: I’ve been filling the pulpit off and on for over 3½ years at this point, and much more frequently since last October. You have grown on me, and I hope that you’ve grown with me. And I pray that the testimony of your fellowship will attract more and more people who desire to connect with God. I pray that the messages here as people download them from the Internet will bear much fruit wherever it is heard and repeated.

The church is winning the race to win the hearts and souls of those who seek a deeper connection with God and with their own faith. I mean, who would have ever thought that the American Idol reality show would have a three-hour special featuring “Songs of Faith” like they’re doing tonight! I’d say the Spirit is on the move! You and I may never be on American Idol, but we can be bright and shining lights so that the world may know the hope we have.

On this day when we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, I want to close with an encouragement to you from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, 1:18–20 (NIV):

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. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20 he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms.[10]

Amen, and have a blessed Resurrection Sunday with friends and family.


[1] The New King James Version. 1982. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

[2] The New King James Version. 1982. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

[3] The New King James Version. 1982. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

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

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

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

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

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

[9] DAVID MARCUS: 5 years after a dark COVID Easter, faith is flourishing | Fox News, accessed 04/19/25.

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

April 6, 2025

Giving Our Best for the Savior (John 12:1–8)

I preached this message on April 6, 2025, which was also National Tartan Day. I wore the standard Gordon family kilt (great-great-grandfather through the maternal line) and the necktie is Gordon Red (purchased in Scotland). I’ve included a few pictures. Now I can say I’ve preached in a kilt! :-)

The Lord be with you.

Before I get to my main message, I want to go back a few months when I preached on Psalm 126, our Old Testament reading this morning, because it was also our reading on October 27. At that time I said that we should consider verse 4 a prayer for this congregation: “Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev.” That continues to be my prayer for this congregation today, and I hope it is yours as well. I heard recently that church attendance is starting to pick up again, so I pray we can take the opportunity to tap into that resurgence.

Our gospel passage this morning, John 12:1–8, is one of the few stories of Jesus’s ministry that all four gospel authors included, probably because Matthew and Mark both said that what she’d done would be told wherever the gospel was preached. Matthew and Mark both include the story after the time of Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem and two days before the Last Supper. Luke places it much earlier in his gospel, and he emphasizes that the woman’s sins were forgiven because of what she’d done. We can’t be sure why Luke has the story so much earlier. He may be “borrowing” it from the future in his gospel so he can tie it in with the story of the response to forgiveness based on the depth of one’s sins.

But in our passage this morning from John, he places the story just before Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. This event may serve to bring to mind the anointings that the Israelites were commanded to do for their priests and kings. Listen to what David says in the very short Psalm 133:

How good and pleasant it is

when God’s people live together in unity!

It is like precious oil poured on the head,

running down on the beard,

running down on Aaron’s beard,

down on the collar of his robe.

It is as if the dew of Hermon

were falling on Mount Zion.

For there the Lord bestows his blessing,

even life forevermore.[1]

This refers to Leviticus 8, where not only was the oil poured on Aaron’s head for consecration, it was also used to consecrate everything in the newly assembled tabernacle. Matthew and Mark do not name the woman who brings in the alabaster jar. Nothing in those accounts suggests they know who the woman is. Luke says the woman lived a sinful life and suggests she shouldn’t even be there.

John is the only one who names the woman in his gospel. The woman is Mary, Lazarus’s sister. We do know a bit more about Mary and Martha than other people mentioned in passing in the Gospels. At the end of Luke 10, Martha is frustrated with Mary because she is sitting at Jesus’s feet listening to his teaching while Martha is busy preparing a meal. This probably isn’t the meal John mentions, and it’s nowhere near Luke’s account of the foot anointing. In the previous chapter of John, Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead to prove he was the “resurrection and the life.” Lazarus’s death seems to have hit Mary the hardest in that story, as she is the one who seems most disturbed by Jesus’s delay in coming to see Lazarus. It makes sense, then, that Mary would be the one who wanted to anoint Jesus’s feet for resurrecting her beloved brother.

John is the only one who doesn’t indicate that the container for the nard was an alabaster jar, but the alabaster jar was considered the most appropriate container for nard or perfume at that time, so I think we’re safe to assume it was. Alabaster was made from gypsum, so it was somewhat delicate and finely textured. Breaking the seal probably meant that the neck of the jar had to be broken to pour the thick nard out and apply it. It wasn’t a very big jar either. We know it was about a pint, and it would have all had to have been used at that moment; otherwise it would spoil or lose its aroma. Matthew and Mark say the woman poured the nard on Jesus’s head, much like it would have been for the OT priests mentioned above, while Luke and John say the woman poured it on Jesus’s feet, perhaps an acknowledgment of Jesus’s servant attitude.

Although the details of this story vary among the gospel accounts, a couple themes of the story do stand out across the board. Many of those present at the dinner, especially Judas Iscariot in John’s account, view this as a wasteful act. This perfume was not cheap; Judas, along with other players in the parallel account, are concerned that such a valuable commodity could have been sold so the money would be given to the poor. John reminds us though that Judas’s concern was more selfish than compassionate. Judas had been helping himself to the till.

What this tells us, I think, for our walk with Christ today is that it’s okay to be a little extravagant when giving to the Lord’s work. Now obviously we don’t need to prepare Jesus for another crucifixion as the woman was doing in that day. But just as Jesus turned the water into the best wine served at the wedding at Cana for his first miracle, so we too can dedicate our excellence in whatever we do for or offer to the body of Christ and the work of the kingdom.

A second principle at work here is that, while the work of helping the poor is noble and a never-ending ministry of the church, there will be times when we have to take care of our own, and I’m not necessarily referring to when we die. It’s not selfish when we do that. It’s a necessary part of taking care of our family. While our loved ones are alive, we buy thoughtful gifts for them. When they pass, we pick out a nice coffin or urn. The ancient Jews used an ossuary, basically a stone box, to store the bones of a loved one once the flesh had decayed and often would put some sort of inscription on it. When the Jews brought Joseph’s bones out of Egypt, it was most likely in an Egyptian mummy case. That’s a little odd for us to think in those terms today, though, so we find other ways to memorialize our loved ones.

Unlike the pharisees and Judas Iscariot then, we should not look with judgment on those who do nice things for their loved ones at death. How we choose to remember a loved one is an important part of the grieving process. But I have to wonder here: Mary had already witnessed Jesus raise her brother Lazarus from the dead. Did she, or any of the other disciples for that matter, have any inkling that Jesus’s impending crucifixion might be followed up by his own resurrection? Judging from the disciples’ reaction in the gospels when Jesus spoke of his death, I’m pretty sure they hadn’t put two and two together yet.

Our gospel passage this morning has focused on what Mary did to prepare Jesus for his death. But what was Jesus doing to prepare his disciples for his death? We’ll address some of this after Easter in the Sundays leading up to Pentecost, but for now I think it’s important to see that, although he was speaking somewhat figuratively at times, he did not leave his disciples without reason for hope after his death.

The next event after our gospel passage this morning is Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem: Palm Sunday as we’ve come to know it. Chapter 13 is the Last Supper, where Jesus imparts his final teachings to his disciples before his arrest and crucifixion. John recorded five chapters worth of Jesus’s words, longer than the Sermon on the Mount. In those final hours he has with his disciples, he:

  • Models servanthood by washing their feet
  • Predicts Peter’s denial
  • Reassures them that he’ll come back to take them to the place he’s preparing for them
  • Promises the Holy Spirit will dwell in them and guide them in all truth
  • Encourages them to stay connected to the vine, to Jesus, so they can bear fruit
  • Reaffirms the coming, indwelling power of the Holy Spirit
  • Predicts that they will be scattered, but they will also eventually know peace
  • Prays for their unity so that the kingdom can move forward and their faith will be unshakable.

That must have been quite the emotional and gut-wrenching after-seder gathering. Most of what John records in those chapters was unique to his gospel. None of the other Gospel come close to the depth of this teaching. Luke and Matthew have passing references to receiving the Holy Spirit without too much detail to describe it. As a gospel writer, John seems to have had special dispensation to capture these final teachings. He, after all, was the only one who shows up at the cross on crucifixion day.

This is not to discount the other teachings of Jesus prior to his triumphal entry. His whole ministry was about preparing you and me for the new way God would work among his people. The Sermon on the Mount and the parables in Matthew; Luke’s sermon on the plain; and Mark’s emphasis on the urgency of Jesus’s ministry are all signs in their own way that Jesus was preparing ordinary people to extraordinary things for the kingdom of God.

Isaiah looked forward to this new time in 43:18–19:

18 “Forget the former things;

do not dwell on the past.

19 See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness

and streams in the wasteland.[2]

The final two verses from our OT reading this morning hint at a future sorrow that will end with joy as well:

Those who sow with tears

will reap with songs of joy.

Those who go out weeping,

carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy,

carrying sheaves with them.[3]

As we continue toward Easter, you and I know how the story ends. We do not need to fret like those first disciples. We know we have the victory. We know we have forgiveness. We know we have the empowerment of the Holy Spirit. Let us go forth from here boldly and confidently in that knowledge and be shining lights for the Savior! 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.

December 7, 2024

Advent Hope (Luke 21:25–36)

I presented this message at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE, on December 1, 2024, the first Sunday in Advent.

What comes to mind when you hear the word “hope”?

If they’re motivated to stay off electronic devices for a while, a young girl might say, “I hope I get an American Girl doll for Christmas,” or a tweenage boy might say “I hope I get a remote-control race car.” The parents might say, “I hope we can pay off our credit cards after Christmas.” In the case of the kids, the “hope” that they might get what they asked for is at its core just a wish, but depending on their relationship with the potential gift givers (or promises made by those potential gift givers), their hope may have a firmer foundation than just a wish.

In the case of the parents, that “hope” becomes more of a pledge or commitment to do the hard work to pay off the cards and not so much winning the lottery, and “hoping” that no other major expenses arise that put a roadblock up against that goal.

For those who face more serious problems than what to get or how to pay for Christmas, their hope may take on a whole new dimension. This is very real in my own family situation right now. When the situation is bigger than you can handle on your own and you have little to no control how such help will come to you, “hope” begins to take on aspects of faith. This is similar to the kind of hope Paul ascribes to Abraham in Romans 4:18 when discussing the promise that Abraham would be the father of many nations even though he was old: “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, ‘So shall your offspring be.’”

That hope sustained Abraham and the rest of his descendants not only in the long term, but it sustained him when God had asked him to sacrifice his son at Mount Moriah. He did not hesitate, because he knew, as we find out Hebrews 11 later, God could raise Isaac from the dead if that’s what it took to fulfill the promise.

Now you may find it interesting that the noun for “hope” (ἐλπίς elpis) never appears in the gospels. The verb (ἐλπίζω elpizō) only appears three times: once in an Old Testament quotation (Matthew 12:21) and twice in Luke (23:8; 24:21), once in reference to Herod’s hope that Jesus would perform a miracle in front of him, and the other in the disappointment of the disciples on the road to Emmaus about their hope that the recently crucified Jesus (who was walking with them at the time!) would redeem Israel. In fact the concept of “hope” does not really come to the fore until Paul is converted and begins his evangelistic mission to the Gentiles and writing his own letters to the young churches. Equally surprising is that neither the noun nor the verb is found in the book of Revelation, the book that documents our ultimate victory and fulfillment of our eternal hope.

One way to interpret this, I think, is that because the gospels record the life and events of Jesus the Messiah, the Old Testament hope of his coming was realized. They didn’t have to hope any more because he was there! But Jesus’s death and resurrection put new spin on what Jesus’s ministry on earth was really all about. It wasn’t about overthrowing Rome; it was about showing the Jews how God wants to relate to them. The Jews up to that point thought that his first coming was his only coming, and that would be the establishment of the eternal kingdom. But Jesus’s resurrection was not only for the Jews but for all mankind, and so the new hope, the hope of a resurrection into eternity, was what Christ-followers now had to communicate to the Gentiles AND the Jews. Everyone needed to know the message. The book of Revelation emphasizes the role of the Savior, the Lamb of God, in the last days, so again, that is the story of hope realized.

That is one reason why our NT passage today speaks about the end times. But since we just covered that from Mark’s gospel a couple weeks ago, we’ll simply use that as a jumping-off point to talk about the theme of this first Sunday of Advent: Hope.

Hebrews 11:1 says, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” In context, that was referring to Old Testament patriarchs’ trust in the promise that the Messiah would come. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:13 that there are three things that will never pass away: “faith, hope, and love.” The question is, then, what is the eternal nature of this “hope” Paul and the other NT writers speak of? I would suggest that there are three main aspects of this hope:

  1. A more immediate hope for Christ-followers that gives them encouragement and strength to face the day-to-day battles.
  2. A hope for the ministry of the church that the gospel message would spread around the world and especially to the Gentiles.
  3. The hope of our final salvation and transformation into our eternal home in heaven.

Let’s take a look at each of these.

We’ve already hinted at the more immediate hope for believers as Paul described Abraham’s hope and faith in Romans 4 above. We see in Romans 12:12 that Paul wants the believers to “be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer,” activities in the here and now. We also see this toward the end of Romans in 15:13 in a sort of “mini benediction”: “13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”[1] Paul wants them to know the joy and peace of following Jesus in this life so that hope springs eternal in them.

We see in Ephesians 1:18 that Paul is praying they (and you) might know “the hope to which he has called you,” and he goes on to describe that hope in chapters 4 through 6 of that epistle: “just as you were called to one hope when you were called” (4:4b). In the verses immediately following that passage Paul describes the ways in which can live for Christ and live the Christian life to the fullest. Jesus equips us to minister in our own unique ways. He promises that when we do this, we will move on to maturity, learning what it means to put off the old self and to allow Christ to give us a new heart and a new attitude.

Paul even praises the Thessalonians for their exemplary faith and actions: “19 For what is our hope, our joy, or the crown in which we will glory in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes? Is it not you?”[2] The Thessalonians had willingly received and committed themselves to the word of God in spite of the suffering that ensued from their own people. Paul suggests that the Corinthians are in the same boat as the Thessalonians when he says, “And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.”[3]

On the second aspect, the ministry of the church, Paul recounts his own experience as he speaks of the hope he and the people of Israel had been waiting for: “This is the promise our twelve tribes are hoping to see fulfilled as they earnestly serve God day and night. King Agrippa, it is because of this hope that these Jews are accusing me.”[4] Paul would go on in that testimony to affirm that Jesus had called him to be a minister to the Gentiles so they would know the hope of the gospel. In Peter’s first letter, he says: “15 But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.”[5] He’s giving instruction there to those who are facing persecution, so that those who hold firm to their faith and do this “with gentleness and respect” might win over their haters and bring them into the fold for Christ.

Paul speaks of this in 1 Corinthians 9:10b as well: “Whoever plows and threshes should be able to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest.”[6] Paul is talking here about his work as an apostle in taking the gospel to the Corinthians so that they might know the eternal hope of the gospel. Let’s take a look at this third and final aspect of hope, the hope of eternity in our heavenly reward.

In Acts 23:6, we have what is likely the earliest reference of Paul introducing the word “hope” into our Christian vocabulary in the sense of eternal hope. This happens after his arrest for allegedly disrupting Temple protocol. He’s standing there in front of the Sanhedrin as well as Roman soldiers, and Paul distracts the proceedings by bringing up a subject that causes infighting among the members of the Sanhedrin: “Then Paul, knowing that some of them were Sadducees and the others Pharisees, called out in the Sanhedrin, ‘My brothers, I am a Pharisee, descended from Pharisees. I stand on trial because of the hope of the resurrection of the dead.’”[7] Paul indicates here that the reason for his hope is based on the truth of Jesus’s own resurrection from the dead. Paul had perhaps already written his first letter to the Corinthians at this point, in which he says this about the resurrection: “16 For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. 17 And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. 18 Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. 19 If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. 20 But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.”[8]

Paul understood that without the resurrection, there could be no hope of eternal life in heaven. Heaven is a real place, and our new, resurrected bodies will be “spiritual” in the sense that they will be incorruptible (1 Corinthians 15:42–44). This seems to suggest some unique makeup we can’t completely comprehend. Heaven has streets of gold, so we’ll be walking around. The tree of life will bear fruit each month (Revelation 22:2), so I’m guessing we’ll have something to eat.

Galatians 5:5 says, “For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope.”[9] Paul emphasizes that in 1 Thessalonians 5:8–9: “But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.”[10] God “predestined” that those of us who believe would receive that eternal reward in heaven. Hold firmly to that promise until the end, as Colossians 1:22–23 says: “22 But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation—23 if you continue in your faith, established and firm, and do not move from the hope held out in the gospel.”[11]

Paul says in Romans 15:4 that the Old Testament also points us in this same direction, toward eternity with God in heaven: “For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope.”[12]

Titus 2:11–14 has a powerful summary of the three aspects of hope I’ve presented to you today:

11 For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. 12 It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, 13 while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, 14 who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.[13]

As we commence with the Advent season, let both remember and share the hope we have in Jesus, not only for our life in the here and now, but in our eternal life in the hereafter. May God bless you and your families and friends this Christmas season. Amen.


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

[2] The New International Version. 2011. 1 Thessalonians 2:19. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[3] The New International Version. 2011. 2 Corinthians 1:7. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[4] The New International Version. 2011. Acts 26:7 Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[5] The New International Version. 2011. 1 Peter 3:15. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

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

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

[8] The New International Version. 2011. 1 Corinthians 15:16-20. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

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

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

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

[12] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. (See also Titus 1:2).

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

November 20, 2024

Jesus Wept 2.0 (John 11:32–44)

NOTE: This is revised and abridged from when I first preached this message at Wheeler Grove Rural Church on January 17, 2021, when that church first reopened after the COVID shutdown. I preached this version on November 3, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE. If you would like more details on the passage, please refer to the link above to see an expanded version of the message. The expanded version does NOT have an audio recording available.

Introduction

Our country has been through the wringer since COVID abruptly altered our lives four years ago. Many smaller churches and other small businesses were not able to survive through that. Others witnessed incredible violence in their cities in a complete disregard for human dignity and freedom. Human and drug trafficking increased to a level we’ve never seen before and should never see as a civilized, “first-world” nation. Thousands have lost their lives because of those horrible practices and the refusal by some leaders to try to get a handle on it.

Add to that the wars in Eastern Europe and the Middle East, where the larger nations and their allied surrogates gang up on the smaller but not necessarily defenseless nations and the thousands of deaths that have come from that. Such acts have emboldened other large and powerful nations to rattle their sabers at their smaller neighbors, causing much fear and anxiety not only for those neighbors but for the whole world.

As the body of Christ, his church, we believe that our responsibility as believers in the current climate is reflected in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, chapter 10 verses 3 through 5: “For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”[1] While we don’t use the world’s weapons to fight for peace, however, we are called to put on the whole armor of God to defend ourselves in Ephesians 6 when we go to battle.

In the passage we’re looking at today, we see Jesus’s attitude toward life and death in stark contrast to how the Jews viewed it then and how we view it now. Jesus did not think life was cheap. He valued the individual, regardless of their rank in life, and even regardless of the type of life they led. We will also see perhaps the most intense display of Jesus’s humanity as well as glimpses into his divine nature.

What Makes God Weep?

As we come to the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead in John 11, we will see the full range of Jesus’s human and divine natures.

The story starts at the beginning of chapter 11 when Jesus learns that Mary and Martha’s brother, Lazarus, perhaps his best friend outside of the circle of the apostles, is sick. Jesus doesn’t seem concerned however, and like the good friend he is, he intentionally delays going to see Lazarus. Wait, wha? [Pause for effect, pretend to be confused and reread that sentence.] The apostles don’t understand Jesus’s delay, but only because he knows “this sickness will not end in death,” but “is for God’s glory.” “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep,” he says a few verses later but the apostles don’t pick up on the subtle reference. Jesus tells them plainly “Lazarus is dead.”

Now it should not surprise us that Type A Martha is the one to go out and meet Jesus at the gate when he finally arrives. Since it took Jesus four days from the time he got the news (at least from a human source) to go the two miles from Jerusalem to Bethany, Martha had plenty of time to think about what she’d say. Martha is chomping at the bit to make sure Jesus knows that because he wasn’t there, it’s all his fault that Lazarus died. Pretty harsh, right? In fact, Martha is so focused on getting these first few words out, we get no indication in the story that she’s in mourning. I think most of us know that feeling: we get our adrenaline going about something peripheral such that we forget how we’re supposed to feel or what we’re supposed to say about whatever the core issue is that is truly impacting us emotionally.

But either Martha knows she’s stuck her foot in her mouth after that first statement, or she really has been thinking about what her second statement would be: “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Martha proves to have a heart of gold, a heart full of faith, and a desire for great theological conversation when she goes on to say, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” If there were other people within earshot of that statement, I’m sure it would have turned heads, especially if any of the crowd were Sadducees. This is exactly the reasoning Abraham used, according to the author of Hebrews, to not hesitate to obey God’s command about sacrificing Isaac. As such, Martha is the personal recipient of one of Jesus’s seven “I am” statements in the Gospel of John: “I am the resurrection and the life.”

To this point in the story, what do we see of Jesus’s divine and human natures? Someone brings him the message that Lazarus is dying, but Jesus is most likely already aware of this given what he says to his disciples about it. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about Lazarus dying, which, from a human perspective, might make him appear cold, matter-of-fact, and uncaring. If this were you or I, we’d want to make every effort to go see the friend on their deathbed. But his divine nature knows the end of the story. Jesus implicitly trusts in his heavenly Father that the end result will be for his glory.

So here we have Jesus, quite stoically handling the news of Lazarus’s death and just matter-of-factly stating that he is the resurrection and the life. That last claim, by itself and at face value, would have been absolutely astonishing to his listeners. Most 30-year-olds in Jesus’s day were typically closer to their death than their birth, and the cultures around the Jewish people had little regard for the sanctity of life. Keep that and Jesus’s initial response in mind as we look at vv. 32–39 here. We pick up the story after Martha has gone to bring Mary back to see Jesus.

Read John 11:32–33

32 When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.

Notice that Mary’s first response to Jesus is identical to Martha’s, except that Mary is making no pretense about her sorrow. She’s bawling, and everyone with her is bawling. The text doesn’t say, but I’m pretty sure Martha is standing there trying to be the strong one: “I’m not going to cry in front of Jesus! I’m not going to cry in front of Jesus!” Truly there is great sorrow here, and this is one of the few times in the Gospels where we see Jesus come face to face with not just mourners, but mourners who are most likely among his closest friends outside his inner circle. In the next few verses, we get a profound insight into the depths of Jesus’s human nature. Back to vs. 33:

Read John 11:3335

33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.

34 “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

35 Jesus wept.

There it is: “Jesus wept.” The shortest verse in our English Bibles. Nine letters. Six consonants and three vowels in three syllables. Yet nothing is more poignant, nothing is more revealing of the depth of human sorrow than weeping. And this isn’t some Hollywood zoom-in shot of Jesus’s face where he sheds one dramatic tear. Oh no! Jesus is in full-on weeping mode with his friends. And even though the story doesn’t say it, I think it’s safe to say that, to the extent Martha was trying to be the “strong one,” Martha’s floodgates open up here; she can’t hold it in any longer, and she begins to weep as well, perhaps precisely because Jesus wept. How profound it is when we see first hand that Savior of the world feels AND shows the same emotions that you and I feel at the death of a loved one. How profound to know that our God does NOT turn a blind eye to our sorrow and pain.

Now Jesus’s weeping is not a sudden outburst that isn’t expected in the story. John, in fact, is building up the tension in the story to that climax. Look back at the end of vs. 33: John says Jesus is “deeply moved” and “troubled.” That word is perhaps the strongest expression of “negative” emotion one could have. It would have been akin to Jesus saying something like, “I refuse to let this happen and will do what I can to fix it.”

Some commentators here go as far as suggesting that Jesus may have “snorted” here, sort of like a “harumph.” On the one hand, he could have been choking back the tears in light of all the weeping. On the other hand, and perhaps more importantly, Jesus may also be on the verge of cursing Death itself here. The one who is the resurrection and the life, the one who knew he himself must suffer horribly and die on the cross, and who knew God would thus give him ultimately victory over death, must face the death of a friend nonetheless. He shows himself to be the great high priest of Hebrews 4:15 who is not “unable to empathize with our weaknesses,” who has been tempted as we are, and yet was without sin.

Now I want to suggest something here that has probably never occurred to you: The main focus of John’s account of this story here is NOT that Jesus raises someone from the dead eventually. Jesus has already done several amazing miracles to this point, building up to the raising of Lazarus as the greatest of his miracles. Another miracle? I’m impressed of course, but not surprised. The reason “Jesus wept” is at the center of this whole story is because John is confronting Gnosticism, a belief in that day that what one does in the flesh has no value for faith. He intends this show of Jesus’s humanity as the highlight and climax of the story.

This is all pretty intense, right? So if we’ve hit the climax, where do we go from here? Well, there is “the rest of the story” as Paul Harvey used to say. There is, as literature professors would put it, the “anticlimax.” Note a further expression of Jesus’s humanity in vs. 36: “See how he loved him.” That word for love there typically implies a brotherly or familial love. It’s not the self-sacrificing agape love, and it’s certainly not any kind of romantic love. It reveals the deep friendship that Jesus had (and will have again) with Lazarus.

Even some in the crowd in v. 37 echo Mary and Martha’s sentiment asking, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Read John 11:38–40

38 Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. 39 “Take away the stone,” he said.

“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”

40 Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

Once again, we see that word for “deeply moved” that we saw in v. 33. Jesus has still got some fire in him at this point. When he asks for the stone to be taken away, I think he’s not just making a polite request here. I think he spoke it like I read it, with that “I’ve-had-enough-of-this” indignation. “Let’s get this over with; he’s been dead long enough.” Of course, Martha, the rational one, has regained her composure in the time it took to walk over to the tomb, and isn’t too thrilled about consequences of removing the stone. That just stokes Jesus’s fire all the more. “I’m going to raise your brother and you’re worried it might stink a little bit?” I’m pretty sure that the “glory of God” at that point was not going to have any stink associated with it.

Read John 11:41–44

41 So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”

43 When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.

Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” [2]

In v. 43, Jesus’s fire is still going. Again, it’s not a polite request or, “Hey, Lazarus, ollie ollie ots and free.” Jesus booms with a loud, commanding voice, loud enough to literally wake the dead, “Lazarus, come out!” I think it’s interesting that the NIV here says “The dead man came out.” Umm, looks like he’s not dead any more. The more literal translation here is “the one who has been dead came out.” Can I get an “Amen”?

I’m sure he’s got a huge smile across his face at this point, as do all those who’ve seen Lazarus rise from the dead and walk out of the grave. Jesus’s happiness, smile, and dare I say laughter are all additional profound insights into Jesus’s human side. The Savior who weeps with us in our time of sorrow rejoices with us in our time of joy.

Conclusion/Call to Action

John 11 is a powerful story about Jesus’s love for a friend and his disgust with death and the seeming cheapness of life in the world around him. But how does that impact us today? What are steps that we can take as believers to promote the value of the individual, especially in this time when we’ve had to be isolated from ones we love?

Each of us brings value to the kingdom of God, value that God imparted to us from our mother’s womb according to Psalm 139. But we also must be willing to extend grace. T.D. Jakes once said: “We have a tendency to want the other person to be a finished product while we give ourselves the grace to evolve.” My prayer is twofold. First, that we recognize the value in each and every individual and in what they bring to the table for the good of our families, our faith communities, the body of Christ, and our fellow citizens in the world. Second, that we act in such a way as to work to confront those things in our world that do NOT respect the values we hold dear, especially the preciousness of life. May we all go forth in the love and peace of Christ from this place. Amen.


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

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

March 24, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was oppressed and afflicted,

yet he did not open his mouth;

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,

and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,

so he did not open his mouth.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away.

Yet who of his generation protested?

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

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

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

The Lord says to my lord:

“Sit at my right hand

until I make your enemies

a footstool for your feet.”

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

“Rule in the midst of your enemies!”

Your troops will be willing

on your day of battle.

Arrayed in holy splendor,

your young men will come to you

like dew from the morning’s womb. j

The Lord has sworn

and will not change his mind:

“You are a priest forever,

in the order of Melchizedek.”[3]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My thoughts are my own.

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.


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

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

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

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

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

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

December 6, 2023

“Bones” in the Bible: Why I Do NOT Want to Be Cremated at Death

Watch the related video on Rumble here: Why I Don’t Want to Be Cremated: A Personal Biblical Perspective, or Facebook here: Why I Don’t Want to Be Cremated: A Personal Biblical Perspective.

The following article is long overdue, at least from my perspective, because I’ve been stewing on it as I get older and must make decisions about the disposition of my own body upon death. The question I’ve been stewing over is whether cremation is an appropriate final disposition for those who consider themselves Christ followers.

If we only look at the obvious difference between cremation and traditional burial, that is, the rapid reduction of the body and bones to ashes versus the slow decay of the embalmed body over time in a tomb or coffin, one might think the cremation is perhaps more environmentally friendly, and there are certainly antagonists to traditional burial ceremonies.[1] But as with all things that relate to our spiritual lives and disposition, this temporary habitation we call Earth will not survive the final judgment and is thus a secondary concern to the spiritual realities.

Now before I go into my analysis, I want to emphasize that my conclusions should NOT be considered a theological tenet, as the Bible has no explicit “Thou Shalts” or “Thou Shalt Nots” regarding the disposition of the bodies of those who have gone before us. After looking at all the Scriptures that mention “bones” (since that is ultimately the difference in what remains after the different means of disposition), I have discovered that most of those passages are anecdotal at best, but they do seem to reveal a broader worldview about the disposition of the dead. My intention here is not to criticize or condemn those who have chosen cremation for themselves or loved ones, because there is no ultimate biblical basis to do so.

My main purpose here, then, is to let my family know in no uncertain terms what my wishes are for the disposition of my body. I absolutely do NOT want to be cremated. After studying these passages, as you will see in my analysis below, I believe the Judeo-Christian worldview (as well as that of several other Middle Eastern, northern African, and southern European cultures represented in the Scriptures[2]) has a high regard, even sacred view, of the bones of their dead on the one hand. The corollary to this view is that keeping the bones of the dead either intact, or at least collected in an ossuary, sends a signal that there was hope of a resurrection, much as the Egyptians mummified their dead because they believed they had their own journey in the afterlife.

On the other hand, when judgment is involved, especially on the enemies of God’s people, the desecration of their bones serves as insult added to injury. A corollary to this is that the desecration or total destruction (crushing, breaking, etc.) of the bones in conjunction with that declaration of judgment sends a signal that there is no hope of resurrection or redemption of those so judged.

Setting the Tone With the “Clone” of the Bone

Of course, the first reference we have to a bone is in the creation story in Genesis 2:21–22. The Hebrew word for rib (צֵלָע ṣē·lāʿ) in this passage is typically a generic word for “side,” but this is the only time it is understood as “rib,” perhaps based on Adam’s “bone of my bone” (עֶ֚צֶם מֵֽעֲצָמַ֔י ‘eṣem mē‘ăṣămay) comment in vs. 23. I think there is a greater significance to this than just a poetic statement about Adam’s new female human companion, Eve. Without getting too technical, the bone contains marrow, which is responsible for creating a constant supply of red and white blood cells as well as platelets in the body as those cells do their part to carry oxygen, fight infection, and promote healing, respectively.[3] God apparently had distinct medical reasons to use a bone for such a purpose.

If, as Leviticus 17:11 says, “the life of a creature is in the blood,” then the “life” of the blood is in the bones. This would make a bone, with some flesh attached, the perfect primitive source for God to “clone” another human being. Another thing to consider here: only males carry both X and Y sex genes. As such, to create another human of a different gender in the way God did would require a male donor. God could create a female from a male bone, but could he create a male from a female bone? I guess the answer to that questions depends on whether you think God would respect the natural order he created. This doesn’t take away the miracle of creating an adult human being out of a rib. But I do believe it sheds some light on how important God considers the human body even after death. One final thought here: our DNA can survive in our bodies long after we’re dead even with standard embalming practices.[4] DNA can also still be recovered from burnt or cremated remains in the bones or teeth, but not for quite as long a period.[5]

I believe Genesis 2:21–23 confirms, anecdotally at least, why the bones of a person are considered sacred: they constantly produce what the body needs to maintain life when not hindered by disease. We don’t really hear about bones again in Genesis until the very end of chapter 50, where Joseph insists that the Israelites must carry his bones out of Egypt when they return to the Promised Land. We are reminded of that promise in Exodus 13:19 when Moses ensures that the bones of Joseph are among the spoils of the exodus and again in Joshua 24:32 toward the end of the conquering phase in the Promised Land when we learn that Joseph’s bones were buried at Shechem. In the New Testament, the final mention of bones is found in Hebrews 11:22, when we’re again reminded that Joseph’s bones were to be removed from Egypt.

Elsewhere in the Torah, we see that the Passover lamb was not to have any bones broken (Exodus 12:46; Numbers 9:12). The bones could be separated at the joints, but the individual bones themselves were not to be broken. In fact, all sacrificial animals had to be “without blemish,” which included not having any broken bones. This was true of Jesus as well, as prophesied in Psalm 34:20 and fulfilled in John 19:36.

Bones and the Resurrection

The connection of bones to a resurrection motif is found in 2 Kings 13:21, where some Israelites, faced with a band of marauders, hastily threw a body into the tomb of Elisha instead finishing the burial, and the man came to life when his body touched Elisha’s bones. Perhaps the most stunning connection to the resurrection, though, is the valley of dry bones in Ezekiel 37. The Lord commanded Ezekiel to prophesy to the dead bones, and they “reconstituted” themselves into an entire army. Another word of prophecy filled them with the breath of life. The conclusion of that event still speaks to us today, especially when we feel defeated by the world: “These bones are the people of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’” O, that we would have faith to allow God to renew us with his mighty breath!

There is an interesting translation issue with Ecclesiastes 11:5 that may tie into the sacredness of the bones. Two recent translations have the following:

ESV: As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.[6]

NRSV: Just as you do not know how the breath comes to the bones in the mother’s womb, so you do not know the work of God, who makes everything.[7]

These are very literal translations of the passage, and the translators see a causal connection between the הָר֔וּחַ (haa wind/spirit/breath) and the כַּעֲצָמִ֖ים (bones). However, most other translations (as the NIV below) would seem to respect the zāqēp̄ qāṭōn (:) accent over הָר֔וּחַ, which indicates the main break in the first half of a Hebrew sentence:

As you do not know the path of the wind,
     or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb,
so you cannot understand the work of God,
     the Maker of all things.[8]

As such, as much as the NRSV and ESV translations of Ecclesiastes 11:5 may hint at an enhanced sacredness of the bone, I don’t think the Hebrew text supports their translation. This does not, however, negate the fact that “bones” is a metonymy for the precious human fetus.

Other signs of the sacredness of human bones would include Numbers 19:16–18, where touching bones out in the open wilderness caused one to be unclean. Israel apparently had a special class of people (“gravediggers”) who were responsible for handling the bones of the dead, especially in a battlefield (Ezekiel 39:15).

“Bones” in the Poets and Prophets

The poetic and prophetic books in the OT have several figurative uses of the word for “bone.” In many cases, it signifies the inner self or the inner soul, sometimes in a positive sense (Jeremiah 23:9), but many times reflecting angst or pain in the deepest part of our souls. Other times bones visible in the malnourished frames of a starving people reflect the oppression or severe trials of the people (Job 33:21; Proverbs 17:22). Proverbs 15:30 and 16:24 speak of the importance of how good news can strengthen our “bones,” our inner self. Even though the figurative uses of the word “bone” don’t have much bearing on the concept of the disposition of one’s earthly body, this still shows the intimate connection we have with our inner self. I’ll save further discussion of this for another time.

One other aspect of how the OT treats the subject of actual human bones does, however, have a huge bearing on the cremation vs. burial debate. Several times in the OT, we see the refusal to bury human bones (Jeremiah 8:1) or the burning of human bones was used as a means of desecration, shaming, or cursing. In 1 Kings 13:2, there is a prophecy about Josiah burning human bones on pagan altars, which was fulfilled in 2 Kings 23:14–20 (see also 2 Chronicles 34:5), which defiled the pagan altars. I can’t help but make the comparison here to a common practice with cremation: scattering the ashes, typically in some memorable location. The latter practice, however, is not typically done with the intent, but more on this below.

What Is Cremation?

Cremation doesn’t consume the bones. A full skeleton remains after cremation, so the bones are pulverized (“cremains”) such that the whole “collection” fits into the urn or other chosen container.[9] Given what the Bible says about the problem of human bones scattered on the ground (e.g., Ezekiel 6:5), I personally would have to think long and hard about scattering someone’s ashes. But I emphasize that I am only making an educated guess here, not promulgating a theological tenet.[10]

Even with the cremains, there still may be recognizable bone or tooth fragments, so imagine how you might feel hiking in some scenic location and finding a couple partially charred fragments of human teeth. I can understand the sentiment involved in scattering a loved one’s ashes, but how might others feel about that? I can’t answer the question, but I can’t avoid asking the question either: Is scattering someone’s ashes a desecration in the view of the Bible or the biblical worldview? I think people need to decide that for themselves, because as I said at the beginning of the article, there is no “Thus saith the Lord” on that question. My mom had my stepdad cremated a couple years ago, but she just recently had the small wooden casket, if that’s what you call it, buried in his prepurchased burial plot, so his cremains are sealed in one place.

“Bones” and Resurrection in the NT

On the whole, we can learn much more about the significance of how human bones are treated in the OT, but I want to turn to the one significant reference to bones in the NT to wrap up this study. Before looking at this reference, however, I want to cite a couple passages that will help support my argument. John 12:24 says, “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.” Chapter 15 in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians gives a detailed description of his view of the resurrection. I would encourage you to read that whole chapter, but I think it will do to cite 1 Corinthians 15:42–49:

42 So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; 43 it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; 44 it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.

If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. 45 So it is written: “The first man Adam became a living being”; the last Adam, a life-giving spirit. 46 The spiritual did not come first, but the natural, and after that the spiritual. 47 The first man was of the dust of the earth; the second man is of heaven. 48 As was the earthly man, so are those who are of the earth; and as is the heavenly man, so also are those who are of heaven. 49 And just as we have borne the image of the earthly man, so shall we bear the image of the heavenly man.[11]

The two passages above both suggest the idea that burial is akin to “planting” a seed. My question is, then, to what degree should we take that as a metaphor? And if it is a metaphor, to whatever degree, what is the spiritual (or physical?) reality behind it that makes it meaningful? What role do the bones play? Remember what I said above about the purpose bones serve in the body. They create life-giving blood. You can also extract DNA from the bones long after the flesh has begun to deteriorate. Add to that the reverence shown to bones in the OT that I documented above, and I think I can make a pretty strong case that our bones are the “seed” of the spiritual body Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 15.

Doubts? Look no further than the accounts of Jesus’s resurrection appearances and what he says about himself. What does he say to his disciples at his first appearance?

39 Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have.

Of course, Jesus had just recently died, so there was no visible deterioration to his body, but he still apparently showed the scars of his crucifixion. Was Jesus’s body the “spiritual” body that Paul speaks of in 1 Corinthians 15? Suppose for a moment Jesus had been cremated? Would his resurrection body have still showed the scars? It’s hard to say. I do believe we will recognize one another in heaven, but we have no way of knowing on this side of eternity what that might look like save for the resurrection appearance of Jesus. Jesus’s whole body was resurrected, and I would expect my remains would be resurrected as well. I believe my coffin will be empty at the resurrection.

Final Questions

Before I get to my conclusion, I want to include here several questions that occurred to me after I finished writing the main article. I let things stew sometimes to see if any other issues arise, and I thought some of these question worth asking, even if they could never be answered. As I said above, I believe the preservation of the bones was a sign of the hope of the resurrection. But after considering the two NT comparisons to “planting,” I’m wondering: Is there something about the bones that may “facilitate” the resurrection in God’s economy?

If the bones contain DNA long after a person’s death, is there something about God’s design in creation where he might use the person’s DNA to facilitate the resurrection? You might think that’s silly but hear me out. If God is all-powerful that he could resurrect us with just a word, would he not also be all-efficient? Does God in fact use what he already created (i.e., our DNA, our skeletal remains) to facilitate the resurrection process, that is, as the “seed that dies”? Does he speak a word and our DNA is “supercharged,” so to speak, to renew our bodies into their eternal spiritual form, similar to how he created Eve from Adam’s rib? Or would our eternal bodies even have DNA? It’s not clear whether Jesus’s post-resurrection appearances are in his final heavenly body or if he’ll be transformed upon his ascension. But what does seem to be clear is that the graves of the faithful will be empty after the resurrection.

Conclusion

My conclusion here is a very simple one. The Jews (and other cultures) believed that preserving the bones was a means of preserving one’s hope for a resurrection, and that worldview carries over to the NT and thus the Christian faith. (In the case of the Egyptians, it was belief in a whole new journey in the afterlife. NOTE: I’m not saying I believe in Egyptian cosmology; I’m only saying that their view of burial and the afterlife is not at odds with the Hebrew worldview.) I have a strong hope in that resurrection, and I want my dead body left intact as an enduring sign of that hope.

I do want to be sensitive here to those who have had loved ones cremated. If God created Adam from the dust of the earth, then I believe he can resurrect us from whatever the final state of our bodies is, whether they are ashes scattered on a mountainside, a corpse at the bottom of the ocean, or a body in a buried coffin. But for me, and again, I’m not claiming this is any sort of gospel truth, the fact that God can resurrect us from ashes doesn’t necessarily mean I should have my body reduced to ashes and pulverized bone fragments. I prefer to follow the pattern of the ancients and keep my body intact in its own coffin. Please don’t cremate me; I don’t want to take a chance that I’ve interrupted God’s divine design for resurrection.

My opinions are my own.

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.


[1] Environmental Impact of Burial Funerals, What Funeral Homes Don’t Want | Safe Passage (safepassageurns.com) Accessed 12/03/23.

[2] For example, see Journey to the afterlife: mummification in ancient Egypt | Reading Museum Accessed 12/06/23.

[3] Bone Marrow: What it is & Why it is Important (clevelandclinic.org) Accessed 12/03/2023.

[4] How Long Does DNA Last? – Investigative Sciences Journal Accessed 12/06/2023.

[5] Is DNA Destroyed During Cremation? (knowyourdna.com) Accessed 12/06/2023.

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

[7] The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version. 1989. Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.

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

[9] Cremation: The Process Of Reducing The Human Body To Bone Fragments – FuneralDirect Accessed 12/05/23.

[10] The death of Saul and the disposition of his body should be mentioned here. Saul’s body (and the bodies of his associates) were hung from a wall, so there probably had already been some significant deterioration of their bodies by the time they were recovered. The bodies were burned, most likely because of the deterioration and the difficulty of trying to embalm the bodies in such a condition. But the bones were still buried, twice (1 Samuel 31:12–13, then moved to the tomb of Saul’s father, 2 Samuel 21:12–14).

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

November 12, 2023

Are You Ready for His Return? (1 Thessalonians 4:13–18; Matthew 25:1–13)

Click the “Play” triangle above to hear the message preached 11/12/23 at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE.

High school was a very important time for me with respect to my spiritual life. A lot happened in those three years in our family, the most important of which was a change I had begun to see in my mom. Without going into the “why” of what led to her transformation, she got connected with a regular weekly Bible study with other women, and I noticed a positive change in her spirit and her demeanor. That change was amplified by her sharing her renewed faith in Christ with the rest of her family, primarily by leaving little “Jack Chick” comic book tracts around the house for anyone to read.

Many of them were rather simple: short stories about someone looking for God or discovering their need for forgiveness or reconciliation, or even encouraging “right living.” But amongst those more traditional evangelistic topics, there were a few tracts that spoke about the second coming of Christ. That was a totally new concept to me, or so it seemed. I had been pretty regular in my Sunday School attendance here at Mt. View as a kid, and if we ever talked about the second coming of Jesus in Sunday School up through my junior high years, it never stuck. But now I was curious, especially because my mom had a new testimony about her own renewal.

The topic of Jesus’s second coming was the spark that started the fire for my own spiritual renewal, eventually leading up to the summer between my sophomore and junior years at my aunt’s ranch in Wyoming, where I discovered she had a whole collection of these tracts, and several copies of each to boot. That was the summer, summer of 1979, that I made my faith my own. I understood that I had a decision to make to finish the work my parents started when they had me baptized as an infant here, dedicating themselves along with the congregation to raise me in the faith.

Now I’ll admit that, in the first two years after that summer, I made the mistake that the late great preaching professor Fred Craddock warned about: I got so caught up in the second coming of Christ that I ignored his first coming and everything that went along with that. I nearly undid my renewal because I hadn’t focused on growing in my knowledge of Jesus and what he wanted from my life until that day would come. I don’t think I was alone in that, either. I remember finding a bookmark in the Zondervan store that said, “Don’t be so heavenly minded you’re no earthly good.” That kind of hit home for me.

Our passages today bring back a ton of memories from that time in my life. The world is a much different place now than it was 44 years ago. Many so-called prophecy experts or eschatologists of the day thought Russia was the evil empire, Magog of the North from Ezekiel’s prophecies, and China and Iran (remember the hostage crisis?) were the manifestation of “the Kings from the East” of Revelation 16. But it wasn’t bad enough then. Today, it seems we’ve come full circle, only this time it appears to be much worse. Some of the same players have come back to the forefront again, and we should heed the signs of the times. Let’s take a look at our passages today.

Let’s start with our 1 Thessalonians 4 passage that we read this morning. The passage describes what is popularly known as the “rapture,” even though that word never appears in the Bible. It describes a time somewhere in the future (at least from Paul’s perspective, and in line with Jesus’s own words from Matthew 24) when the world will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds, resurrecting his followers first, then “catching up” his followers who are alive to rescue them from the final judgment of the earth.

The first couple verses of 1 Thessalonians 5, if I may borrow them from next week’s passage, tell us that day will come “like a thief in the night.” Now we may be tempted to think that day will be a day like any other day in our lives. As I started writing this section of my sermon, a commercial came on for David Jeremiah’s new book on the rapture, with video clips of people going about their daily lives just “disappearing,” with their clothes on (which I thought was bit odd), with nothing spectacular going on around them. But one of the Old Testament passages for today that we didn’t read, Amos 5:18ff, paints a very different picture of that day, and actually warns against being too excited about its coming:

18 Woe to you who long

for the day of the Lord!

Why do you long for the day of the Lord?

That day will be darkness, not light.

19 It will be as though a man fled from a lion

only to meet a bear,

as though he entered his house

and rested his hand on the wall

only to have a snake bite him.

20 Will not the day of the Lord be darkness, not light—

pitch-dark, without a ray of brightness?[1]

If you’ve studied this topic in the past, you’re probably well aware of the differing opinions about just exactly when this “rapture” happens in the whole scheme of the “end times” and the tribulation. I think this passage from Amos gives a hint about when that might happen if we put some other pieces of the puzzle together as well. I don’t want to dwell on this too much, because as Jesus says, no one knows the day or the hour when that’s going to happen. But we should be wise to the signs of the time and be able to discern at least the beginnings of that final era of our mortal history.

For example, some people think that what Jesus foretold in Matthew 24 has already happened, because he says, “This generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened.” The question is, does “this generation” refer to the people he’s speaking to, or is it more broadly referring to the period of the Church? Those who believe it refers to the people he’s speaking to are typically called “Preterists,” which is just a fancy word for historical. For them, the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans in A.D. 70 marks the final point of judgment on the nation of Israel, and that is what is described in graphic imagery in the Book of Revelation. No rapture for us then! In this view, the age we’re living in now represents the rule of God’s kingdom on earth through the imperfect church, and there will still be a final reckoning of this history when perfection comes for good.

Others think the rapture will come at the beginning or half-way through the tribulation. Some take the phrase “time, times, and half a time” in Daniel 7:25 to say that’s three-and-a-half years, half of the seven years Ezekiel mentions about the last days in 39:9. But if you look a little closer at the Daniel 7 passage, you’ll see that God’s people will be “delivered” into the hands of the enemy for three-and-a-half years before being released. This leads to the very popular “mid-tribulation” speculation about when the rapture will happen. That’s the interpretation I learned as a teenager. But if you’ve been held captive by the evil in the world for three-and-a-half years, things probably aren’t going to be “business as usual” if and when you’re freed. It is nice to think that God wouldn’t want us going through the worst of the tribulation, but I don’t think things will be “bad enough” yet by the half-way point.

The phrase “thief in the night” that both Jesus and Paul use about the second coming of Christ is found in one other place in the New Testament, and it might surprise you where. It’s found in Revelation 16:15, where Jesus says of himself: “Look, I come like a thief! Blessed is the one who stays awake and remains clothed, so as not to go naked and be shamefully exposed.[2]” Now in case you haven’t read Revelation in a while, Jesus makes that statement after the penultimate sixth bowl of wrath is poured out on the Euphrates. Remember, the sequence of sevens is seven seals, seven trumpets, and seven bowls, so if these things represent a linear history, we’re almost at the very end of this final judgment. This begs the question: will Christians still be around through all these judgments up until the point of the final battle? What does the next verse of chapter 16 say? “Then they gathered the kings together to the place that in Hebrew is called Armageddon.[3]” Where is Armageddon, which is Hebrew for the Valley of Megiddo? It’s about halfway between Tel Aviv and the border with Lebanon, just north of the border with the West Bank. And immediately after that, the seventh and final bowl of wrath is poured into the air. Things that make you go “Hmmm.” I base my own personal views on the end times on this then, that the rapture doesn’t happen pre- or mid-tribulation, but at the bitter end of the world to save us from the devastating final wrath and judgment of God. That is our hope.

Now again, I want to emphasize that I don’t have any special knowledge here about these things. I’m just doing some investigative work on how the pieces of the puzzle might fit together and making an educated guess. I’m not trying to make any predictions about when anything is going to happen in the future; I’m just putting forth the facts about what Scripture says, and letting the chips fall where they may. I’m not saying I’m right and anyone who disagrees with me is wrong. I’m not that arrogant about my understanding of the timeline. But the point I’m making is that you can see how this Day of the Lord might be a dark and gloomy time as Amos prophesied. It is kind of scary, but we know for sure that God will win in the end, and in that grand thought and fact, we put our hope.

This is where our Matthew 25 reading comes in. Although on the surface this appears to be a parable about any old wedding banquet, it’s actually a parable about the final wedding banquet we’ll have in heaven when the Church is made the bride of Christ. Because the virgins don’t know when the bridegroom is coming, and they know he could come in the middle of the night, it’s important for them to be ready and have oil for their lamps so when he arrives, they can enter straightaway. If they’re not ready, they’re not getting in. There’s no turning around at that point and trying to get more of what they need to get in. Nor can anyone share their “oil” with them to help them get in, because if they share it, they might not have enough for themselves and may be left out as well.

If that sounds a bit selfish, it is, intentionally so. Each of us can, in the end, only be responsible for our own salvation and readiness, and we’d be foolish to give up that readiness for the sake of someone who wasn’t ready. God wouldn’t allow it anyway, because he judges each of us on our own readiness and faithfulness, as the parable of the sheep and goats at the end of chapter 25 suggests. Those who aren’t ready can’t ride on the coattails of those who are. Those who thought they could make excuses for not doing what God has called them to do won’t get a mulligan. When it’s finished, it’s finished, done, and over. Eternal consequences are locked in.

The Day of the Lord and the end times in general are topics of interest to many believers, and perhaps even more so in today’s climate. Unfortunately, at times they can become topics of debate as well, but we must never make one particular view of the end times a test of faith, because I believe there’s so much more we don’t know about how all that will play out. My encouragement to you, then, is to stand firm in the last days. Be ready. Put on the full armor of God as Ephesians says. Be in a constant state of prayer. Don’t neglect the fellowship with your fellow believers. As I’ve said before, we don’t know when our final day will be. Our last day could be today, tomorrow, or ten or twenty years from now. Jesus is coming! God will ultimately destroy this temporary abode of ours and establish us in his eternal kingdom, a new heaven and a new earth, in our new immortal bodies. It is and will be a place of perfection where there will be no more sorrow or shame, only joy and rest in the light of God’s glory, the light of the Lamb. 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.

May 6, 2023

Assurance, Hope, and Power: The Disciples’ Resurrection Rebound (John 20:19–31)

Click the Play button below to hear the recording of the message.

My message from 4/16/23, the week after Easter, at Mt. View Presbyterian Church in Omaha.

The longer audio file is from 4/12/26. I changed the introduction to reflect the recently completed historic trip to the far side of the moon by Artemis II, but I did not include that text here.

I learned a fancy new ten-dollar word this week. “Denouement” (day new MA). If you’re into literature or are a member of book club, perhaps you already knew the term before today. It’s a French word that’s made its way into English that refers to what happens in a story after the climax or high point of the action has occurred. The meaning of denouement is “untying of the knot.” An English equivalent, at least in the context of literature, might be “resolution.” How does the story “resolve” or work itself out after the climax.

Why am I starting my message this morning with a vocabulary lesson? (Don’t worry, no quiz at the end!) Well, you may have already guessed where I’m going with this. The crucifixion, burial, and resurrection of Christ is the climax of the Gospel story in the New Testament. Like the Gospels, the Christian liturgical calendar begins with the “prequel” of the Advent, the birth of Christ, beginning the Sunday after Thanksgiving; passes through several “seasons” in which we see the nature and work of our servant-savior; and leads up to the crucifixion and resurrection.

We’ve now entered the “denouement” of the liturgical seasons, the time between the Resurrection, celebrated on Easter Sunday, and Pentecost, 50 days following. After that, aside from the first Sunday after Pentecost being “Trinity Sunday” and the last Sunday of the liturgical year being “Christ the King,” the rest of the liturgical calendar is officially “proper,” or the nth Sunday after Pentecost. That’s doesn’t sound near as exciting as all the stuff at the beginning of the liturgical year.

Of course, the Gospel is a compelling and engaging story regardless of the season, month, or day in our liturgical or regular calendars. It is made so, in part, by the way you and I live out our faith in the places we find ourselves in this world. As disciples of Christ, we have been charged with being light and salt in an increasingly dark and bland world. But it’s hard to do that if we’re not convinced and assured that the resurrection of Christ has secured that hope for us.

That is where we find ourselves in the early stages of this denouement: Jesus had appeared to the women who came to the tomb, and even to two unnamed disciples on the road to the Emmaus, but the 11 remaining apostles had not yet seen him and, according to the longer ending of Mark’s Gospel, they didn’t believe either of those reports from earlier in the day. But on the evening of that same day Jesus was resurrected, Jesus literally drops in on them in the house where they were staying; the door was locked.

All the apostles (“the Twelve”) except Thomas (and of course Judas) were there for the first visit. It’s likely that others were there as well, but the text is silent on that detail. Jesus shows his disciples his pierced hands and side and even asks his disciples to put their fingers in the holes. The disciples are not only convinced, but the text says they are overjoyed as well. Something else happens here that I think gets overlooked in the Gospel story. Jesus essentially commissions the disciples—we don’t know if this meant only those of the Twelve who were present or everyone—by giving them the Holy Spirit in advance of the day of Pentecost. He also gives them authority to forgive sins or not forgive sins. Jesus was granting them a portion of divine authority here, collectively, so that he could have an official complement of representatives to prepare the world for the coming of the Holy Spirit to believers and birth of the Church on the day of Pentecost.

This is important for a couple reasons. First, just as plant seedlings are often nurtured in the controlled environment of a greenhouse or a baby is born in sterile conditions in the hospital, so too did the church need a perfect or near-perfect spiritual environment to get started and to grow. I believe the authority Jesus gives them, again collectively, included the knowledge of the perfect, untainted Gospel on which Jesus wanted to found the church. Their proclamations were considered authoritative, and as a group, they could hold each other accountable for that perfect doctrine, instead of having all of the authority for the church rest in one person. Eight days later, Thomas would be added to that group when he finally got to see Jesus and had every doubt erased. He would be able to proclaim, “My Lord and my God!” after seeing Jesus for himself.

On the other hand, having a group of leaders thus empowered and commission would also help with the stability of the local, usually house, churches that would begin to form after the day of Pentecost. With so many hearing the Gospel in their own language that day, it would be important that someone with that kind of authority could be sort of a regional overseer for the fledgling churches and communicate officially on behalf of the apostles whenever questions arose. We see some hints of that in the middle chapters of the book of Acts. I think it’s safe to say the apostles didn’t want 3,000 new converts going back to their respective homelands without some kind of help from those who had first-hand experience with Jesus and the apostles.

Getting back to Jesus’s first appearances to the disciples, they had assurance of what we read in our passage from Psalm 16 this morning. Here’s verses 9–11 from the New International Version:

9 Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;

my body also will rest secure,

10 because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,

nor will you let your faithful one see decay.

11 You make known to me the path of life;

you will fill me with joy in your presence,

with eternal pleasures at your right hand.[1]

The apostles realized that Jesus was the “faithful one” who did not see decay, and by implication, those faithful ones who had died before had also been safe from that decay. Paul tells us in Ephesians that Christ, upon his resurrection, led an army of captives out of the “lower earthly regions” into the heavenly realms. Peter would use this passage from Psalm 16 in his powerful sermon on the day of Pentecost because he had realized and experienced its truth for himself.

Peter would later write in one of his two letters about the living hope that comes through the resurrection of Jesus. He says this in the opening chapter of his first letter:

3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. [2]

Thomas had the luxury of seeing Jesus on his second appearance to the group and finally believing he had risen, even though he refused to believe his closest friends after Jesus’s first appearance convinced them. You and I will probably not have that luxury of seeing Jesus while we dwell on earth, unless he comes again in the immediate future. We would fall, then, in the second category: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

As disciples of Christ, we have a wealth of resources available to us as we live and serve in God’s kingdom. We have a new birth, or as Jesus told Nicodemus, we’re “born again” of the Spirit. The old has gone; the new has come! The past no longer controls us. We have a living hope affirmed by the resurrection. The faithful in the Old Testament probably could not have even conceived of what the New Testament has revealed to us about eternal life in the heavenly kingdom. Our inheritance is permanent! No moth or rust can destroy it!

We’re shielded by God’s power (and his armor) through faith, and we have the hope of his second coming and the eternal salvation that will be ours to claim. We have this assurance even in the midst of the trials and griefs we suffer corporately and individually, for it is in standing firm through these trials that our faith is tested, purified, and proven true. Paul says in Ephesians that when we put on God’s armor, we can stand firm in the faith. We can know in part here on earth that joy we will fully know in heaven!

Even though Easter is the climax of our liturgical year, our denouement need not in any way diminish the joy and excitement of living for Christ in the hope of our resurrection and our salvation. Each and every day can be an adventure with Christ as we read his word, serve those who need an extra measure of his grace, and walk in faithful fellowship with one another. Those first few weeks after the resurrection, the believers had a lot of knots to untie to figure out their part in growing the early church. Of course, the Spirit was calling people, and that couldn’t be stopped. But they had to move quickly. For us today, we could use this season to think about how we do our own ministries. How can we use the excitement of celebrating Jesus’s resurrection to channel that energy into “untying the knots” that may be holding us back from doing more for God’s kingdom or for the local church or community? Are there others we could reach? Are there others we could invite? Are there others who need our help? Who could I talk to about my doubts and fears? These don’t have to be grandiose, but I do think the answers should be just big enough to require some faith in and reliance on God to get them done.

As we move through this season leading up to Pentecost, remember that Christ has given us assurance of his resurrection and our own, the hope of eternal life in an imperishable kingdom, and the power to minister in his name and encourage those who also need that assurance and hope. Peace to you! Amen.


[1] Psalm 16:9–11. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] 1 Peter 1:3–9. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

May 19, 2021

What Makes God Weep?

Sermon preached by Scott Stocking, Wheeler Grove Rural Church, January 17, 2021. This was the first Sunday the church was open after COVID.

Introduction

This past year has certainly been a challenging one for the world. Many of us know people affected by COVID, whether testing positive without any more symptoms than a few sniffles, to those who unfortunately lost loved ones or their own lives to the disease. My wife works in a skilled nursing facility in Omaha as an occupational therapist, and had to put on her “protective armor” to work with residents who tested positive for the disease.

Jill and I also have two friends who went to death’s door with the disease, but have or are making what seems to be full recovery. One friend’s wife had actually gone to talk to the funeral home before he rebounded. Another friend, just in that last few weeks, had been on a ventilator. Those who go on a ventilator have a 10% chance of survival. He eventually got off the ventilator and beat the odds, and at last report, he was doing quite well in rehab, just having his trach removed and talking up a storm with his family members.

It’s been an eye-opening experience for me, as I’ve never had two friends in one year come this close to death, and it reminds me both of how fragile life can be, and also how precious life is. In Jesus’s day, life was considered cheap. The philosopher Aristotle said, in so many words, you were born to either be an elite-class ruler or part of the masses of the lower-class ruled. There really wasn’t much of what we call the “middle class” in that day and age, socially or economically.

In the passage we’re looking at today, we see Jesus’s countercultural attitude toward life, at least countercultural in his day and age. Jesus did not think life was cheap. He valued the individual, regardless of their rank in life, and even regardless of the type of life they led. We will also see perhaps the most intense display of Jesus’s humanity as well as glimpses into his divine nature.

What Makes God Weep?

As we come to the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead in John 11, we will see the full range of Jesus’s human and divine natures. Even though “all the fullness of the Deity dwells within him,” he is still fully human as well, so much so that the Gospel writers record Jesus using the title “Son of Man” for himself.

The story starts at the beginning of chapter 11 when Jesus learns that Lazarus, perhaps his best friend outside of the circle of the apostles, is sick. Jesus doesn’t seem concerned however, and like the good friend he is, he intentionally delays going to see Lazarus. Wait, wha? [Pause for effect, pretend to be confused and reread that sentence.] The apostles don’t under Jesus’s delay, but only because he knows “this sickness will not end in death,” but “is for God’s glory.” He eventually says cryptically a few verses later that “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep,” but the apostles don’t pick up on the subtle reference. Jesus must tell them plainly a few verses later that “Lazarus is dead.”

Now it should not surprise us that Type A Martha, the control freak of the two sisters, is the one to go out and meet Jesus at the gate. Since it took Jesus four days from the time he got the news (at least from a human source) to go the two miles from Jerusalem to Bethany, Martha had plenty of time to think about what she’d say. Martha is chomping at the bit to make sure Jesus knows that because he wasn’t there, it’s all his fault that Lazarus died. Pretty harsh, right? In fact, Martha is so focused on getting these first few words out, that we get no indication in the story that she’s in mourning. I think most of us know that feeling: we get our adrenaline going about something peripheral such that we forget how we’re supposed to feel or what we’re supposed to say about whatever the core issue is that is truly impacting us emotionally.

But either Martha knows she’s stuck her foot in her mouth after that first statement, or she really has been thinking about what her second statement would be: “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” Does that statement represent genuine concern, or is it more like a backhanded control freak statement? “I’ve waited four days for you to get here, Jesus, so you owe me big time!”

But Martha does prove to have a heart of gold, a heart full of faith, and a desire for great theological conversation when she goes on to say, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” If there were other people within earshot of that statement, I’m sure it would have turned heads, especially if any of the crowd were Sadducees. This is exactly the reasoning Abraham used, according to the author of Hebrews, to not hesitate to obey God’s command to him to (almost-) sacrifice Isaac. As such, Martha is the personal recipient of one of Jesus’s seven “I am” statements in the Gospel of John: “I am the resurrection and the life.”

So to this point in the story, what do we see of Jesus’s divine and human natures? Someone brings him the message that Lazarus is dying, but Jesus is most likely already aware of this given what he says to his disciples about it. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about Lazarus dying, which, from a human perspective, might make him appear cold, matter-of-fact, and uncaring. If this were you or I, we’d want to make every effort to go see the friend on their deathbed. But his divine nature knows the end of the story. Jesus implicitly trusts in his heavenly Father that the end result will be for his glory.

So here we have Jesus, quite stoically handling the news of Lazarus’s death and just matter-of-factly stating that he is the resurrection and the life. That last claim, by itself and at face value, would have been absolutely astonishing to his listeners. Most 30-year-olds in Jesus’s day were typically closer to their death than their birth, and the cultures around the Jewish people had little regard for the sanctity of life, as my opening illustration revealed. So keep that and Jesus’s initial response in mind as we look at vv. 32–39 here. We pick up the story after Martha has gone to bring Mary back to see Jesus.

Read John 11:32–33a.

Notice that Mary’s first response to Jesus is identical to Martha’s, except that Mary is making no pretense about her sorrow. She’s bawling, and everyone with her is bawling. The text doesn’t say, but I’m pretty sure Martha is standing there trying to be the strong one: “I’m not going to cry in front of Jesus! I’m not going to cry in front of Jesus.” Truly there is great sorrow here, and this is one of the few times in the Gospels where we see Jesus come face to face with not just mourners, but mourners who are most likely among his closest friends outside his inner circle. In the next few verses, we get a profound insight into the depths of Jesus’s human nature. Back to vs. 33:

Read John 11:33-35

There it is: “Jesus wept.” The shortest verse in our English Bibles. Nine letters. Six consonants and three vowels in three syllables. Yet nothing is more poignant, nothing more revealing of the depth of human sorrow than weeping. And this isn’t some Hollywood zoom-in shot of Jesus’s face where he sheds one dramatic tear. Oh no! Jesus is in full-on weeping mode with his friends. And even though the story doesn’t say it, I think it’s safe to say that, to the extent Martha was trying to be the “strong one,” Martha’s floodgates open up here; she can’t hold it in any longer, and she begins to weep as well, perhaps precisely because Jesus wept. How profound it is when we see first hand that Savior of the world feels AND shows the same emotions that you and I feel at the death of a loved one. How profound to know that our God does NOT turn a blind eye to our sorrow and pain.

Now Jesus’s weeping is not a sudden outburst that isn’t expected in the story. John, in fact, is building up the tension in the story to that climax. Look back at the end of vs. 33: John says Jesus is “deeply moved” and “troubled.” In the original language of the Scripture, that word is perhaps the strongest expression of “negative” emotion one could have. In Matthew 9:30, Jesus “sternly warned” the blind man not to say who healed him. That would have been akin to Jesus saying something like, “Don’t you dare, in a million years, tell anyone who did this to you.” At Jesus’s anointing in Bethany, where the prostitute broke an alabaster jar over Jesus’s head and let the perfume run down him, we’re told that those present (except for Jesus) “rebuked her sharply,” probably even to the extent of cursing her or reminding her in no uncertain terms about her profession.

Some commentators here go as far as suggesting that Jesus may have “snorted” (their word, not mine) here. On the one hand, he could have been choking back the tears in light of all the weeping. On the other hand, and perhaps more importantly, Jesus may also be on the verge of cursing death itself here. The one who is the resurrection and the life, the one who knew he himself must suffer horribly and die on the cross, and who knew God would thus give him ultimately victory over death, must face the death of a friend nonetheless. He shows himself to be the great high priest, as he’s called in Hebrews 4:15, who is not “unable to empathize with our weaknesses,” who has been tempted as we are, and yet was without sin.

Now I want to suggest something here that has probably never occurred to you: The main focus of John’s account of this story here is NOT that Jesus raises someone from the dead eventually. Jesus has already done several amazing miracles to this point, building up to the raising of Lazarus as the greatest of his miracles. Another miracle? I’m impressed of course, but not surprised. John has already hinted to us that that is going to happen in the story, with Jesus’s “I am” statement and Martha’s statement. Keep in mind that John, in his short epistles toward the end of the NT, is fighting against Gnosticism, a belief that nothing done in the body matters at all for eternal salvation. When John says, “Jesus wept,” he’s acknowledging that God considers human life precious and valuable; that the body does matter for our earthly existence. That’s why “Jesus wept” is at the center of this whole story. He intends this show of Jesus’s humanity as the highlight and climax of the story.

This is all pretty intense, right? So if we’ve hit the climax, where do we go from here? Well, there is “the rest of the story” as Paul Harvey used to say. There is, as literature professors would put it, the “anticlimax.” Note a further expression of Jesus’s humanity in vs. 36: “See how he loved him.” That word for love there typically implies a brotherly or familial love. It’s not the self-sacrificing agape love, and it’s certainly not any kind of romantic love. It reveals the deep friendship that Jesus had (and will have again) with Lazarus.

Even some in the crowd in v. 37 echo Mary and Martha’s sentiment that Jesus could have kept him from dying. “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Read John 11:38–40

Once again, we see that word for “deeply moved” that we saw in v. 33. Jesus has still got some fire in him at this point. So when he asks for the stone to be taken away, I think he’s not just making a polite request here. I think he spoke it like I read it, with that “I’ve-had-enough-of-this” indignation. “Let’s get this over with; he’s been dead long enough.” Of course Martha, the rational one, has regained her composure in the time it took to walk over to the tomb, and isn’t too thrilled about consequences of removing the stone. That just stokes Jesus’s fire all the more. “I’m going to raise your brother and you’re worried it might stink a little bit?” I’m pretty sure that the “glory of God” at that point was not going to have any stink associated with it.

Read John 11:41–44

Now when I set out to write this sermon, I had intended to do the three shortest verses in the NT and tie them together in a neat little package. But the more I got into, the more the Spirit led me down the road I followed today, focusing on “Jesus wept.” One of the three shortest verses is “Pray continually,” or more literally, “pray without ceasing.” Jesus offers his prayer here. He doesn’t need to do this, because he knows God is always listening to him. But as he’s said all along in this story, his goal is to make sure God is glorified. He wants to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that what is about to happen is not some magic trick or sleight of hand. This is God-power all the way, the “incomparably great [resurrection] power for us who believe,” as Paul tells the Ephesians.

In v. 43, Jesus’s fire is still going. Again, it’s not a polite request or, “Hey, Lazarus, ollie ollie ots and free.” Jesus booms with a loud, commanding voice, loud enough to literally wake the dead, “Lazarus, come out!” I think it’s interesting that the NIV here says “The dead man came out.” Umm, looks like he’s not dead any more. The more literal translation here is “the one who has been dead came out.” Can I get an “Amen”?

The third short verse precedes “pray continually” in 1 Thessalonians 5: “Rejoice always.” In the last part of v. 44, Jesus loses all the tension he’s been feeling to this point. I’m sure he’s got a huge smile across his face at this point, as do all those who’ve seen Lazarus rise from the dead and walk out of the grave. Jesus’s happiness, smile, and dare I say laughter are all additional profound insights into Jesus’s human side. The savior who weeps with us in our time of sorrow rejoices with us in our time of joy.

Conclusion/Call to Action

John 11 is a powerful story about Jesus’s love for a friend and his disgust with death and the seeming cheapness of life in the world around him. But how does that impact us today? What are steps that we can take as believers to promote the value of the individual, especially in this time when we’ve had to be isolated from ones we love?

In the ancient world, at and before the time of Christ, there were two practices that absolutely cheapened life. One of them was known as exposure. At that time, if you gave birth to a child you didn’t want, or the child was conceived in, shall we say, ill repute, it was legal, and in certain situation expected of you, to expose that infant to the elements and let the Fates decide what would become of the child. As Christianity took hold, Christians began to rescue these innocents. As Christianity grew and the concept that all life mattered began to take hold culturally, Constantine eventually outlawed the practice all together in the Roman empire.

The second practice was, in certain Greek democracies where they did not have the concept of freedom of speech, the casting of the ostraca. Ostraca were simply pieces of clay pots on which the voters (usually only “citizens”) wrote the name of a person whom they thought was not worthy of participating in their society any longer. The person receiving the most votes was “ostracized,” or banished from the city-state democracy. As you might imagine, the ancients had their share of folks on all sides who spread lies and misinformation about political enemies in order to influence who got voted off the island, so to speak.

In this day and age when our country is so divided on so many issues, it’s important that we learn how to not only respect our differences, but understand why each of us believes what we believe. Jesus’s disciples were a diverse group, from a hated tax collector to the lowly fishermen. My prayer is that we see the value in each and every individual and in what they bring to the table for the good of our Lord and our country. Peace to you all, and thank you for letting me share with you today.

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

My views are my own.

January 12, 2019

Mystery of Immersion (Baptism), Part Two

In my post from 6.5 years ago (has it been that long!), The Mystery of Immersion (Baptism), I argued that there is a “mystery” (in the classical sense) in immersion (a more accurate translation of the Greek word typically translated “baptism”) akin to what the Catholics attribute to the Eucharist (Communion or the Lord’s Supper to us Protestants). In reading through Romans this time around, I still believe immersion must have a special place in the life of a Christ-follower, but I am even more convinced of the efficacy (and practicality) of immersion to bond us to Christ.

The Blood of Christ

Many Christ followers know Romans 3:23: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” But the real hope is found in the two verses that follow: “and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith.” Christ’s faithfulness to death on the cross, that is, to submitting to the shedding of blood, is the foundation for our forgiveness. As Hebrews 9:22 says, “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness.”

Throughout Romans, Paul makes contrasts between death and life. Romans 5:9–10 is quite striking in this contrast: “Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!” [Note the “how” statements are NOT questions!]

I have argued elsewhere that Christ’s complete, unfailing obedience to the Law qualifies him as “the Righteous one.” It is because he is righteous that his sacrifice can impart righteousness to us. Paul says as much in Romans 7:4: “So, my brothers and sisters, you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God.” Hebrews 9:14 says it in a different way: “How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we my serve the living God!”

The Waters of Immersion

I believe the centerpiece of Romans 1–11 is chapter 6, Paul’s discussion about immersion. Romans 1–11 is an intense theological statement on how God, through Christ’s shed blood, not only purchased salvation for us, but also restores us to a right relationship with God and with our brothers and sisters in the faith. When Paul says in Romans 6:3: “Or don’t you know that all of us who were immersed into Christ Jesus were immersed into his death?” he’s making a solid connection between the blood of Christ and the waters of immersion. It is almost as if Paul is declaring the act of immersion to be a reverse typology.

Typology, in the biblical sense anyway, looks at an event in the past and shows how that points to Christ. Here, Christ’s death has already happened, and the significance of that requires a significant event in our own lives to make the connection. Immersion, then, is not merely (not even?) a symbolic act that we can dismiss as merely a “work of the flesh,” as some try to do, but it is an event oozing with meaning and purpose, so much so that it is foolish for a Christ-follower to ignore it or think it’s not for them. Setting aside for a moment the debate about whether immersion is a sine qua non event for salvation, let’s look at what else we glean about immersion from this section of Scripture. These gleanings fall into two categories: how Christ’s death benefits us spiritually, and how Christ’s resurrection benefits us practically.

United with Christ’s Death (Romans 6:5a)

Justified by his blood: Romans 5 is truly amazing in that it demonstrates beyond a shadow of doubt what God’s grace is. In 5:6, Paul says “When we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.” Rewind. Repeat. Yes, we had absolutely nothing to do with it. We were powerless, Paul says. We couldn’t effect any spiritual benefit to ourselves if we tried. But not only that, and this is the real kicker, Christ died for the ungodly. What? He says it again in a different way (v. 8b): “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us!” You mean we don’t have to “get right with God” first before Christ’s death becomes effectual for us? Now that is grace! Weak and undeserving as we were, enemies of God (v. 10), Christ still died for us. And the end result of that is we are justified; “just as if I’d” never sinned. Christ grants us his right standing—a result of his perfect obedience to the Law—before God

Reconciled to God: In 5:10, Paul speaks of being reconciled to God. This means that our relationship with God is mended, restored. We’re no longer enemies, no longer slaves to sin, no longer considered ungodly; God looks at us and sees Christ.

Dead to the Law: The Law is good because it makes us aware of sin, but it is also the source of condemnation. As I said above, because Christ fulfilled the Law, those of us in Christ have the full credit of fulfilling the Law through him. As Romans 8:1 says, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

Dead to sin: In 7:14ff, Paul speaks of the hypothetical “I” who is “unspiritual.” Without the Spirit, Paul has little to no control over the sinful nature. The law of sin wages war against God’s law. But as with the previous point, Paul clears this up in Romans 8:2: “Through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set your free from the law of sin and death.” You can live for God unencumbered!

Cleanse our conscience: Hebrews 9:14a reemphasizes these points from Romans. “The blood of Christ… [will] cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death.” The author of Hebrews further brings home the point in 10:22: “Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.” Could that be the waters of immersion?

United in Christ’s Resurrection (Romans 6:5b)

Bear fruit for God: Along with the benefits linked to the death of Christ in Romans 5–7 and elsewhere, we also see benefits linked to the resurrection. Romans 7:4 sounds a bit like Ephesians 2:10 and the good works God prepared in advance for us to do: “That [we] might belong…to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God.”

Death has no power over us: Romans 5:9 and 10 tell us we are saved from God’s wrath and saved through Christ’s life (post-resurrection). In 6:8–9, Paul emphasizes that death no longer has mastery over Christ, and since Christ-followers are united with Christ in his resurrection, they also share that victory over death.

Seated with Christ in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 2:6): The first part of Ephesians is a glorious picture of our position in Christ in the heavenly realms. Not only are we made alive with Christ (even when dead in transgression!), but we are raised up with him and seated with him in the heavenly realms. And if there was any doubt how that happens, the grace of God pervades that passage of Scripture as it does through the first three chapters of Ephesians.

Serve the living God (Hebrews 9:14b): Most of us, regardless of our age, heard or have heard JFK’s quote: “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.” Just change “country” to “God” and you’ve got the idea of Hebrews 9:14b. What a glorious privilege to serve in the courts of the eternal, living, gracious God. Can you think of any service that would lead to any greater eternal reward or greater feeling of satisfaction and personal fulfillment?

Living Sacrifice

Because Romans 1–11 ends with a glowing doxology, we can safely assume that Paul is closing out his theological argument and moving into the realm of practical application in 12–16. The “therefore” in 12:1, then, refers back to the entire argument, especially with immersion as the centerpiece. When Paul says: “I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship,” it becomes quite clear that he’s making an altar call to immersion and all that goes with it, as I have just described above.

Paul begins and ends Romans with a curious phrase: “the obedience of faithfulness” (1:5, 16:26; for more on this, see my Obedience in Romans post). But in 5:19, right before Paul launches into his treatise on baptism, he seems to revisit that idea, giving us a clue that he has reached the point where he’s delivering the main thrust of his argument. “For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.” Jesus is that one man who was obedient to God’s law, and as a result, his death and resurrection purchased our forgiveness and salvation, and our unity with those two events in immersion absolutely solidifies our connection with the Savior.

Conclusion

When you examine the context around Paul’s treatise on immersion in Romans 6, you begin to see that chapter 6 is not an isolated excursus on one theological point, but that immersion is the glue that ties the two “pillars” of the faith (Christ’s death and his subsequent resurrection) together in a neat theological “type.” Not only that, but the many blessings that Christ-followers experience are linked to immersion by virtue of their inclusion in the broader context of chapters 5–7. Immersion, then, is not something to be taken lightly, or sluffed off as a mere work of the flesh, but it is a near-complete picture of who we are and what we have in Christ. When the implications of immersion are rightly understood, there can be no doubt that it is an essential event in the life of a Christian, not just a reference point for salvation, but an expression that we’re all-in for Christ.

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

My views are my own.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from the 2011 version of the NIV.

 

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