Sunday Morning Greek Blog

September 28, 2026

Obedient Sons: Redux (Matthew 21:23–32; Psalm 78)

I had a busy week with my uncle’s funeral on Tuesday, an Internet outage all day Tuesday and Wednesday morning, and travel to central Nebraska Wednesday night through Thursday. This is an update to a message I preached three years ago (Obedient Sons (Psalm 25:1–9; Matthew 21:23–32) | Sunday Morning Greek Blog) when this gospel passage came up in the Lectionary. Our service planner used the other option for the psalm this time around (Psalm 78), so I repurposed the message to include that psalm instead of Psalm 25. It’s different enough that I thought it deserved its own post. I preached this message on September 27, 2026, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha.

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

Our reading from a few verses of Psalm 78 only tells part of the story of how and why Israel should put their faith in God and proclaim his deeds, so I want to take a few moments here to get a big picture of this psalm, which happens to be the second longest psalm in the collection. But we’re only seeing the more positive and encouraging portion of this psalm. First, it’s 72 verses long—don’t worry, I’m not going to read the entire Psalm.

Second, if you were to look at this Psalm in a printed Bible, you would see it has a “subtitle” of sorts: “A maskîl of Asaph.” A maskîl[1] helps us understand the history of God’s people and how we can act wisely based on our knowledge of that history. Asaph’s maskîls are typically targeted at the community of Israel as a whole, while David’s are more inward and reflective of his own spiritual condition.

Third, and this is most important part to understand about the Psalm that ties in with our gospel passage this morning, pretty much the rest of the psalm that comes after the portion we read this morning recounts many of Israel’s historical failures to walk in the covenant that God established for them in Sinai with the Ten Commandments. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Verses 8–11 of Psalm 78 give us a hint of what is to come after the recounting of God’s miracles in the Exodus in verse 12–16. Let’s listen in:

…a stubborn and rebellious generation,

whose hearts were not loyal to God, whose spirits were not faithful to him.

9 The men of Ephraim, though armed with bows, turned back on the day of battle;

10 they did not keep God’s covenant and refused to live by his law.

11 They forgot what he had done, the wonders he had shown them.[2]

Mixed in with the recounting of Israel’s historic failures are the reminders that God not only punished them, but then forgave them and restored them, only to watch them fail again. It must have been brutal for the readers and hearers to be reminded of this, but sometimes it is necessary to reflect on the low points of our history so we can see how far we’ve come and how much more progress and blessing God has in store for us.

This is the background that ties together our two gospel stories we read this morning. The first passage is an account from the life of Jesus as he encounters the Pharisees and their unfaithfulness. The second is a parable targeted at the Pharisees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul persecuted the early church and tacitly approved of the stoning of Steven, yet God used him to spread the Gospel to the Gentiles, and his letters make up about one-fourth of the New Testament text.

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

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

So did Moses say to Israel, “You see how the wicked flourish in the is world, for two or three days succeeding. But in the end they will have occasion for regret.” So it is said, “For there shall be no reward for the evil man” (Proverbs 24:20)…. “You see the righteous, who are distressed in this world? For two or three days they are distressed, but in the end they will have occasion for rejoicing.” And so it is said, “That he may prove you, to do you good at the end” (Deuteronomy 8:16). (Sifre to Deut. 53).[3]

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

We see how the truths of Psalm 78 play out in these two stories from the Gospel of Matthew. If we put our trust in God and allow him to guide us, even through the most difficult times, we will know his reward and his glory. I pray that each of us here will continue on that straight and narrow path that is the road to eternal life. Peace to you all. Amen.


[1] Here’s what Copilot says about maskîls:

🟦 Asaph’s Maskîls (e.g., Psalms 74, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83)

Asaph’s style is:

  • Communal — focused on Israel as a whole, not individual experience.
  • Liturgical — Asaph was a temple musician; his psalms often fit public worship.
  • Historical-theological — he interprets Israel’s past to explain its present.
  • Prophetic — he speaks with covenantal authority, sometimes confronting the nation.

Asaph’s Maskîls often feel like: “Let me teach you what God is doing with His people.”

Psalm 78 is the flagship example.

🟩 David’s Maskîls (e.g., Psalms 32, 52, 53, 54, 55, 74, 142)

David’s style is:

  • Personal — focused on his own spiritual life, sin, enemies, or suffering.
  • Devotional — prayer, confession, lament, trust.
  • Psychological — David explores the inner life of faith.
  • Experiential wisdom — “Here is what I learned from my trials.”

David’s Maskîls often feel like: “Let me teach you what God taught me.”

Psalm 32 (“Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven…”) is the classic Davidic Maskîl.

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

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

March 16, 2025

Approaching the Cross (Psalm 27; Luke 13:31–35)

I presented this message on March 16, 2025, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, Nebraska. In studying the two passages, I discovered several thematic connections between Psalm 27 and the central part of Luke’s gospel, especially from 9:51 through Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem in Luke 19.

I had attended StoneBridge (my home church) for the worship part of their service before going to preach, and they did a version of St. Patrick’s Breastplate. I started my message with that this morning (the 15 lines toward the end of the longer prayer).

May the Lord be with you.

Have you ever thought about how you read certain types of literature? If you’re reading a fictional novel, or perhaps a true historical account of real event or someone’s life, it’s probably best to start at the beginning and read through to the end. It’s important to have all the details of the story because some of those details will be important throughout or later in the book. If you’re reading a history book or a historical biography, you may want to focus on a certain topic or certain era covered in the book to get the specific information you’re looking for, but you might miss some important background information that gives more context to events of that period. When you read a newspaper, you look for the headlines that interest you. If you’re looking for a specific answer on something like “How do I change a tire,” “Where do the Sandhill Cranes migrate to,” or “How do I calculate the area of a circle,” you typically wouldn’t have to read an entire reference book relevant to the subject. You’d go to the index or table of contents and look up where to find the information you’re looking for.

The Bible is sort of all these types of literature wrapped up in one collection that contains all these things, from the fictional, but true-to-life parables to the priestly “Chronicles” of the kings to the history of the patriarchs and the gospels, right up to the fantastical imagery of Revelation. Because of this, it’s important that we don’t lock ourselves into one way of reading the Bible. While it’s good to sit down and read large sections of the Bible in one sitting from time to time, we can still miss “the big picture” if we don’t understand or know the historical setting in which it was written.

Even when you read the gospels, if you have a Bible with footnotes, you’ll see that there are all sorts of references to passages in both the Old and New Testament where the gospel writer is either quoting the Old Testament or the editor perceives a connection to another New Testament author’s writings. That’s something you don’t typically get in a fictional novel, but would be helpful, I think.

Our two passages today, Psalm 27[1] and Luke 13, have a thematic connection, but it’s important to recognize that this connection compels us to look at the larger context of Luke’s gospel. Luke 13 is a little more than halfway through Luke’s 24-chapter gospel, but more importantly for our purposes, it’s about halfway between Luke 9:51 and Luke 19:28, which is the beginning of the story of Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Why is 9:51 an important marker? Luke says this: “As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.”[2] Luke isn’t even halfway through his gospel and he’s already talking about Jesus getting ready for the cross!

Luke frames the rest of his gospel from 9:51 on in the context of Jesus approaching the cross and preparing himself and his disciples for the implications of that seminal event. In fact, the footnote on this verse in my NIV Bible lists the references to this in the story line along the way: Luke 13:22, 17:11, 18:31, and 19:28.

So let’s take a look at the thematic comparisons between Luke and Psalm 27. Psalm 27:1 is the initial confidence builder for David as he pens this psalm: The Lord is his light, his salvation, and his stronghold, so David has nothing to fear as he leads his people. This confidence is paralleled in Luke 9:51 with his statement that Jesus “resolutely” set out for Jerusalem. The phrase here literally means to “set your face” (or by extension, “set your eyes”) upon Jerusalem. This ties in with Psalm 27:4 as well, when David speaks of dwelling in the house of the Lord and gazing on his beauty in the temple. The temple, of course, was in Jerusalem. In today’s gospel passage, Jesus seems to hint that he’s only three days away from Jerusalem and needs to press on.

In Psalm 27:2–3, David says that in spite of his enemies advancing against him, he will remain confident of the Lord’s help. As Jesus journeys toward Jerusalem in Luke, he encounters his own opposition along the way. In 9:53, the Samaritan village he was near wanted nothing to do with him because he was headed for Jerusalem. In chapter 11, we see opposition from the pharisees and experts in the law as he’s working miracles and teaching about the kingdom. By the end of chapter 11, Luke says this after delivering a list of “woes” to his critics: “53 When Jesus went outside, the Pharisees and the teachers of the law began to oppose him fiercely and to besiege him with questions, 54 waiting to catch him in something he might say.”[3] No love lost there between Jesus and that group of elitists.

Just like David, though, Jesus’s confidence doesn’t wane. He continues on his journey gathering an ever-larger following warning them about the opposition they themselves would face for being his followers and encouraging them to be ready when his time does come. In chapter 13, he faces opposition from a synagogue leader who is upset because Jesus healed someone on the Sabbath! Imagine that! In our passage this morning, the Pharisees seem to think they’re doing Jesus a favor by telling him to leave the region because Herod wants to kill him. But Jesus presses on, even with a bit of sarcasm, or so it seems, when he says in so many words that Jerusalem is the only place for a prophet to die.

The rest of Luke up to the point where he reaches Jerusalem gives us several more examples of this opposition, but we can save that for another time. I mentioned earlier about Psalm 27:4–5 hinting at the importance of temple. For Jesus, the temple was the true home of his family: after all, it was his father’s house. If he knows he’s going to die, he wants to be as close to his family home as possible. His statement in Luke 13:35 about “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” looks forward to his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. I believe Jesus takes a sense of pride and ownership in the temple, even though it is a structure made by human hands.

We saw after Christmas how Jesus as a boy stayed at the temple and impressed the religious leaders with his knowledge of and wisdom about God’s law. His first order of business after arriving in Jerusalem at the end of Luke 19 is to clear out the corruption in his father’s house. Even as he knew this would be one of his last weeks to experience the earthly temple, he wanted to leave it in better condition than he found it by restoring it to a place of prayer and genuine worship. He knew he would be the sacrificial lamb, and there would be no more need to sell lambs and birds in the temple for the sacrifices. It would be restored to a purer state. In the book of Acts, we see that his followers have been meeting regularly at the temple since his crucifixion, and it is there that the church is born on the day of Pentecost. That was the “Garden of Eden” for Christ followers.

The last half of Psalm 27 is one of David’s most heartfelt prayers for protection against his enemies and for the security of God’s presence with and acceptance of David as his chosen ruler for God’s people. Jesus taught his disciples to pray in Luke 11, the shorter version of the Lord’s prayer. In that prayer, we hear some of the same themes of praise, provision, and forgiveness. He understands the goodness of God’s provision.

But we also hear in that Psalm the foreshadowing of the cross. In verse 12, David asks not to be turned over to his enemies, which sounds very much like Jesus’s plea in the Garden of Gethsemane to have the cup of suffering removed from him. David’s pleas in verse 9 sound very much like Jesus’s words on the cross, “Why have you forsaken me?” Those words come from Psalm 22, where many of the aspects of Jesus’s crucifixion are foretold.

Just as David in the last two verses of Psalm 27 affirms his confidence in the goodness of the Lord and can encourage the worshipers to “be strong and take heart,” so Jesus has confidence in his dying moments to selflessly tell the thief on the cross that he too will join him in paradise when they die. I don’t believe that David intended Psalm 27 to be a messianic psalm, nor do I think Luke intended the central part of his gospel to mirror the themes of Psalm 27, but the parallels are striking and certainly worth noting.

But these parallels are academic. What does all this mean for you and me as we walk with our savior?

First, when we run up against roadblocks or challenges to our faith or we find that doubts are creeping in, we can remain confident that our light, our stronghold, surrounds us with his protection. We need not fear or doubt, but if we wait on the Lord and strengthen our hearts by abiding in God’s word, we can be confident we will see the goodness of the Lord, just as David was. We can walk in the victory of the cross in the overcoming resurrection of our savior.

Second, we can heed the exhortation of Hebrews 10:19–25, which sums up these three themes concisely:

19 Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, 20 by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, 21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 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. 23 Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, 25 not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.[4]

Worshiping together as a church family, whether we’re a family of 20 or 200 or 2,000, provides a powerful sense of belonging to each of us. We know we have a place to call our spiritual home, just as Jesus considered the temple his spiritual home. We can feel safe here with one another.

Finally, the power of praying together as a church family cannot be overstated. Our prayers, whether in our own closets at home or corporately in our liturgy here, keep us connected to and in constant communication with our heavenly father. We can be assured that he hears us and works to respond to our prayers according to his will and his love for us.

As we go through this Lenten season, let us not forget the forgiveness we have from God and not forget to offer forgiveness and grace to those who need to hear that message. Peace to all of you. Amen.

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.


[1] Psalm 27 parallels Psalm 31 with similar themes. Psalm 31 will figure prominently in the Lectionary beginning the Sunday before Palm Sunday next month.

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

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

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

September 18, 2011

“We Despaired of Life Itself”: 2 Corinthians 1:8–11; 4:7–10

8We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. 9Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. 10He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, 11as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.

My oldest brother, Neal, and his oldest son, Jeff, have been deployed in Afghanistan for the past year with their respective Guard units. Neal, who has been leading a couple construction units in two different parts of Afghanistan, is due to come home next month. Jeff has been serving as an MP at one of our bases in Afghanistan and will probably be home sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I am proud of both of them and applaud them for their service to and sacrifice for our country. Both of Neal’s kids are grown. Jeff’s residence is in Omaha, and his son Chris lives in Kansas City. Neal’s wife Anne has been an absolute trooper as well, holding down the homestead in Omaha, and we’ve done what we can to support her and keep her engaged with the family in this time. It hasn’t been easy for her, but I hope she knows we have her back. Jeff is “unattached” (so far as we know, anyway!), but he still has his circle of friends whom I’m sure he misses and can’t wait to be reunited with.

My own life in the past year has been a microcosm of Jeff’s and Neal’s experience in the past year. One year ago this week, God “deployed” me back to my hometown of Omaha, Nebraska, to experience some victory over the long battle I fought in Illinois with underemployment. I do not regret that during my underemployment in Illinois, I had the freedom to be there for my kids on a daily basis. I was the “soccer dad”, getting them to school every day (and sometimes subbing for their teachers!) and to their appointments, practices, games, and other events with friends. I was involved in every aspect of their lives.

Divorce wrenched me away from all that. Without full-time work in Illinois, and with zero hits on the countless positions (over two years of daily searching job opportunities; I lost count of how many) I applied for in Chicago and other places close to home, and with no other family nearby, it was impossible for me to support myself there and provide the kind of support for my kids that they deserved. I had distinctly heard God calling me back to Nebraska (“There Is No Place Like Nebraska” kept ringing in my ears), and I knew that’s where God wanted me to go. Upon reflection, I think the homesickness I had been feeling for Nebraska since about 2005 may have been God telling me that I should have gone back then, but uprooting the kids seemed out of the question, and it certainly would have been a battle with my current ex I probably would not have won, or it may have forced her hand to file for divorce then. That’s all speculation and water under the bridge now, and when I had no other choice after the divorce, I went forward with my plans to come back to Nebraska and be a “boomerang child.”

God honored my faithfulness to follow his lead in several ways. I got hired my first full day back in Nebraska for the first FT job I’d had in years. It was a temp job, but I was back on my feet. That led to my current job, the best-paying job I’ve ever held in my life. It’s a great job, and I’m using all my skills, from math to English to writing and editing. I also got reconnected to my former church. Fort Street Christian Church sent me off to seminary 24 years ago, and when I came back last year, Fort Street had become StoneBridge. Attendance had quintupled, and the congregation was as vibrant as any I had ever experienced. I made connections and new friends almost immediately, and I have experienced a great deal of spiritual and personal growth through my involvement there. The church has become my family here; I wasn’t going to sit around and bemoan the lost daily interaction with my kids, and I’ve used my relocation as an opportunity for God get some work done in me that I had neglected as a busy dad and resident home-improvement servant. My brother and nephew get hazard pay for being on foreign soil. My hazard pay has been the spiritual growth I’ve experienced.

But amidst that, I’ve still been struggling with the separation from my kids. It’s been difficult to meet my financial obligations, and as such, I haven’t been able to see my kids as often as I like. My ex refuses to meet me half-way to transfer the kids, so I have to make the 8-hour, one-way trip whenever I want to see them and spring for a hotel room. And if I want to bring them back to Omaha with me, that’s another 8–10 hours in the car. My ex constantly reminds me how that’s a “punishment” for the kids and that pretty much everything else I do is “punishment” for them, taking them away from their friends and activities to come to Omaha to spend time with me, and that it was my choice to move 500 miles from the kids (never mind I’m providing a lot more child support from here than I could have from Illinois; more “hazard pay” for the family). I know it’s not punishment, but sacrifice, but some days the stress of my separation makes me feel like Paul in the 2 Corinthians passage I quoted above.

I know the God of all comfort knew what he was doing when he deployed me to Nebraska. I have already seen some of the fruit he is bearing in my life, as my half-sister and dad have started coming to StoneBridge as well. I have a renewed spiritual vigor and great opportunities for service. But that has been kept in check by the incredible sense of loss I feel at being separated from my kids. Yes, I still have regular contact with them on the phone and through Skype (when the video connection works), but as you might imagine, it’s not the same for me or for my kids. I feel the despair of death some days, the pain is that deep, but I know God and my brothers and sisters in Christ and my family are upholding me.

For those of you looking for the Greek (and I debated whether I should include any at all in this post), here it is. Paul uses the Greek word for “despair” ἐξαπορέομαι (exaporeomai, \eks ah paw REH aw my\) or ἐξαπορέω (exaporeō, \eks ah paw REH oh\) only twice in all his writings (and the only two times in the New Testament). Strong’s Enhanced Lexicon says the word derives from ἐκ (ek, ‘from’ or ‘out of’) + ἀ (a, negative prefix) + πορεύομαι (poreuomai, ‘go’), or in other words, “not go out of” or figuratively “internalize,” thus Paul’s comment about feeling the weight of the pressure he’s under. I can see that, but I also discern another possible etymology: ἐκ (ek, ‘from’ or ‘out of’) + ἀπό (apo, ‘away from’) + ῥέω (rheō, ‘flow’), or “go out of and away from” or figuratively “abandon”. Either etymology is fitting of my own situation. The only other time Paul uses the word is a couple chapters later in 2 Corinthians 4:7–10:

7But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
10We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.

The word for “perplexed” (contrasted with “despair”) in this passage is the same word in Greek without the ἐκ- prefix. As with the passage from chapter 1, this passage also brings me comfort: I’m at my wits’ end, but I haven’t yet given up all hope, although I feel the pressure to give up more and more. And maybe that’s the point of all this. Like 2 Corinthians 1:9 says, all this is happening so that I might not rely on myself (I’m certainly finding out that’s not working), but that I should rely totally and completely on God. After all, he raised the dead; he can certainly see me through my current struggles.

A side note: I know I may have come across a little harsh on my ex-wife here, but that is the reality of my situation. I know she is doing the best she can for the kids, and I’m sure she feels a different kind of pressure dealing with the kids daily without me being in the area to provide regular relief. In spite of our continued arguments about things, I know she’s doing a great job, and I trust that all things will work out for the best for all of us. My kids are strong and doing well, but I know they miss my presence as much as I miss theirs. I would appreciate your prayers for all of us.

Peace to all!

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

UPDATE: 15 years later

I just noticed today that this post has gone from 166 views in the first 13 years since first published in 2011 to now over 1,000 views in just the last two years, and this year’s views have already surpassed last year’s. I guess I should give you an update and not leave you hanging! I’m grateful for your readership, and of course, I’m curious about the spike in traffic. If this is circulating through a community of single dads who have found themselves in a similar situation, I’d be happy to interact with you and share more of my experience over the years.

I and my kids have all landed on our feet. I remarried in 2014 to a woman I graduated from high school with, but we were not “sweethearts” at the time, although we did run in some of the same circles. We’re still going strong 12+ years later. My two oldest are both in the Army, with my daughter (middle child) outranking my son (#1; just passed his E7 training). My youngest went straight into business out of high school and has been outearning me for a few years. She’s also given us two grandchildren. We all traveled to Poland this past Christmas to meet my son’s girlfriend’s family and witness their engagement. I’m a men’s group leader in my church and preach at least twice a month at the church I grew up in, where my mom still attends. Life is good, and God has been great!

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