Panorama: The Bible’s Big Picture

I have a very old suitcase in a closet upstairs. It has not latched for generations; its hardware is broken and rusted, its leather cover torn and dried. I keep it because it came from my parents and because it is stuffed with pictures. 

In one of those photos, taken around 1902, I see my grandfather, my dad’s dad. He is about thirteen-years-old, I would guess, and is sitting on a horse. In another, I find my mother at about twenty-three, posing in front of a palm tree in Florida in a skimpy (for 1950) bathing suit, with a man I don’t recognize. Then there are pictures of my brother and me in our infancy and childhood.  In addition, there are many pictures of people I have never met and whose names I don’t know.  The photos are in no discernable order.  Some are from more than a hundred years ago, some are more recent. 

Every once in a while, I will go to that suitcase and begin pulling out pictures. I pause for a while over the ones that portray people I recognize (or think I do) and pass quickly over the ones I do not know.

Many people come to the Bible the way I go to that suitcase.  They rummage through it, looking for anything interesting or anyone they might recognize. They see no order in it, no connecting links. They treat the Bible like a jumble of unrelated snapshots – one theological, one moral, another liturgical. But the Bible is much more like an enormous panoramic photo than it is like my suitcase. It gives us a unified picture of God as he pursues his purposes in the world.

Craig Brian Larson always kept coffee table books on a stand on his desk at work. For a while he had “America’s Spectacular National Parks” displayed.  He kept it open to a breathtaking photo of the Grand Tetons.  The picture stretched from the page on the left to the page on the right.  After a few days he noticed that the right-hand page was doubled over.  It was extra long and folded in half.  In other words, he had been looking at only part of the picture.  It opened up another sixteen inches to reveal a magnificent mountain landscape he had not yet seen.

When we explore the Scriptures with a wide-angle lens, we discover that the Bible – from Genesis to Revelation – tells the same story.  Its pages unfold to reveal various aspects of an enormous panorama, too large to take in at a single setting … or a hundred settings. Whenever we open the book and turn the pages, we find that the picture extends further than we had imagined, from Creation to New Creation, from the Beginning to an Ending that never ends.

It is the picture of the compassionate and gracious God, who is slow to anger but abounds in love. The focal point of the picture – the place where the panorama comes together and makes sense – is on a hill outside Jerusalem. Somehow, when we look there, when we look into the face of Christ, we see the gracious God (who is otherwise too grand to take in) and his loving purpose for the world he has made.

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. (2 Cor. 4:6)

Posted in Bible, Theology | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Mission Trips? Go For Those Who Stay

I am just back from the Baja Peninsula. Not Cabo, or Mazatlán, or Acapulco, but Tijuana. We did not go to soak up the sun on a stretch of white sand beach or to get in a few rounds of golf on a Riviera Maya course. We went to work.

We went to Tijuana, a city of over 2 million people, to work with Spectrum Ministries in some of the city’s poorest neighborhoods. We were not the experts from America coming to rescue the Mexican people. We were not experts at all. We were pastors and computer programmers, stay at home moms, and loading dock workers.

We did not go to tell the Mexicans who work for Spectrum what to do. We went to be told by them what needed to be done. They were the experts; we were the laborers. Whether we were building a house, visiting an orphanage, or passing out clothing and food, we did it under the direction of the Mexicans who live and work there.

Some of us had worked with Spectrum previously. Most of us, including me, were rookies who did not know what to expect. On our first day, within minutes of arriving at the Spectrum dorm, we were off to a remote neighborhood to pour a concrete foundation.

Readers may assume they know what pouring a foundation in a neighborhood entails but, if they have not done so in Tijuana, they are probably mistaken. The neighborhood lay on the side of a steep, grassless hill on the outskirts of the city. The approach to the neighborhood is on a deeply rutted dirt road that is in places unthinkably steep.

We parked about twenty feet above the postage-stamp sized lot and unbolted – I do not mean unhitched, since we didn’t have a hitch – the portable cement mixer Spectrum owns. We needed to get this heavy mixer down a steep, five-foot incline and had to dig out a spot so that it could sit somewhat level.

We then added many five-gallon buckets of sand and of gravel, along with bags of cement. When mixing was completed, we tipped the mixer so that the cement ran down an improvised trough across another fifteen feet of steep hillside and into one or other of two wheelbarrows that waited below. We did this hour after hour, while those working below shoveled the cement into the forms that had been prepared.

Three days later, we returned to build the house, which is sixteen feet long by twelve feet wide. We got to meet the young, single mom for whom the house was being built, but were glad to know the Spectrum staff had developed a relationship with her and her relatives. They will see her regularly, for they come to this neighborhood every few weeks.

For more information on Spectrum Ministries, go to https://www.spectrumministries.org/

One day, between laying the foundation and building the house, we went to a local orphanage, where we were assigned to various work crews. Some of us cleaned floors while others made minor repairs. Yet others of us went up on the roof to seal seams. When these tasks were completed, we played with the children, who are hungry for attention.

Some people who go on trips like this come home deeply burdened over the poverty they have witnessed. But poverty, like wealth, is relative. The people we met in Tijuana, some living in stark conditions, do not think of themselves as impoverished and are not looking to be rescued by white saviors from the north.

What are they looking for? I gave that a lot of thought and have concluded that they are looking for the same things we all desire: acceptance, reassurance, and love. We offered these things during the week we were there, but Spectrum does so week after week. More importantly, they tell people about the God who has demonstrated his love and acceptance through Christ.

I have come to think that “mission trips” are expensive failures for those who go to provide temporary relief. But when those who go support and enhance the work of those who stay, who week after week demonstrate the love of God, such trips can be an enduring success.

(First published by Gannett.)

Posted in Mission, Worldview and Culture | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Pray About Everything

A sermon on Philippians 4:6-7 by Kevin Looper.

Viewing Time: 24 minutes (approximate).
Posted in Bible, Prayer, Sermons, Spiritual life | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

I Shall Be Made Thy Music

A few years ago, and for a few years in a row, it seemed like the song, “I Can Only Imagine” played at nearly every funeral I officiated. It is a good song, but I think a slight change of wording might be in order and would certainly make it more biblical. Instead of, “I can only imagine,” I suggest, “I can’t even imagine.” “I can’t even imagine what it will be like when I walk by your side. I can’t even imagine what my eyes will see when your face is before me. I can’t even imagine.”

St. Paul wrote: “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, and human mind has not imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” Jesus said to Nicodemus, “If you don’t believe when I talk to you about things on earth, how can you possibly believe if I talk to you about things in heaven?” St. John wrote, “Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known.”

We have heard only a little – and comprehended even less – of the wild, wonderful, beautiful things in heaven. There are angels and cherubim and seraphim – and, if the books of Daniel, Ezekiel, and Revelation give us any light on the subject – creatures that would set our hair on end.

And then there is the music. What might it be to hear the morning stars singing together? What glory, what rapture must there be at the sound of angels singing, joined by God’s holy people, and even inanimate creation bursting into praise? Tears of joy must be streaming down J.S. Bach’s face

Forget the haloed saint reclining on a cloud, playing some mournful harp. The music in heaven will delight and renew us because its rhythm is the one that resonates in our hearts and brains—and in every molecule of creation. Our hearts beat to it already, but on the day we join Christ, something more will happen. It can’t really be put into words, but it is what John Donne had in mind when he wrote, “Since I am coming to that holy room where, with Thy choir of saints forevermore, I shall be made Thy music.” We will get in. We will be united with that thing we have always loved.

But all the rapturing, beautiful, soul-transporting music of heaven will hush and become a background harmony at the ravishing sound of his voice. To hear the voice that sets angels trembling with delight, that spoke worlds into being, the voice that said, “Let there be light”; and there was light; to hear that voice say, “Well done, faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord,” will be nothing short of new creation.

We haven’t seen anything yet, but we will see something soon. By the mercy of God and only by the grace of Christ, we shall see friends shining like the sun in the kingdom of our Father. We will see the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God. We will see thousands and thousands of angels in joyful assembly. It will be enough to take our breath away.

Then we will see the Face that will make us new. One look, and we will be transformed with a weight of glory far beyond all comparison. In that moment we will know why we were made, why all things were made, and we will know that the making was good—was very good. Then there will be no more mourning, of crying, pain and the One seated on the throne will say with unbridled joy: “Behold, I make all things new.”

Posted in Bible, Theology | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Self-Deception: Following Your Own Echo

Years ago, I jumped in my Olds Delta 88, turned on the radio, and took off for town. There was a preacher on the radio who, before I got around to changing the station, said something that caught my attention. I continued to listen because the fellow seemed to have something worth saying.

He went on to something else with which I agreed, and I thought, “This guy’s not bad.” Then he said something that took me by surprise. I not only agreed with it, but it was something that I had said myself. I had never heard anyone else say it, yet he phrased it exactly the way I do.

I glanced at the car stereo. It was not set to a broadcast station but was playing a cassette tape. Apparently, my wife had been listening to a sermon on tape. Suddenly, I realized that the guy I was listening to was me. It was a sermon I had preached years earlier.

It took me about two miles to figure this out. It was not because I was utterly lacking in self-awareness—not completely anyway. The church’s recording deck and the car’s cassette player apparently ran at different speeds, pitching my voice higher than it normally is.

I had a good laugh at myself. First, because I hadn’t recognized my own voice. Second, because it took me two or three miles to remember my own sermon. (And if I didn’t remember it, how can I expect the church family to do so?) And third, because I had been internally applauding my own wisdom, which I would have been ashamed to do had I known it was me.

But isn’t that just like us? We think other people are wise, whenever they say what we say. Our own echo always carries the ring of truth.

Isn’t that what is happening in our culture today, particularly on social media sites like Facebook and Twitter? People scan their Facebook page looking to find voices that sound just like theirs. When they “like” some post on Facebook, they are frequently saying “Amen” to their own echo.

The Bible, particularly the Book of Proverbs, encourages people to seek counsel from many sources. But who does that anymore? We seek counsel from our own echo, as it bounces around social media in the form of memes, tweets, and “likes”.

Gregg Ten Elshof, Professor of Philosophy at Biola University, calls this “attention management.” We are likely to attend to the things that reinforce beliefs we already hold. And since, as William James noted, “Only those items I notice shape my mind,” we are apt not to notice the things that might undermine our truth constructs.

I have caught myself employing attention management. I have seen others, both religious believers and atheists, do the same. It is a universal problem. People who think that they have never done it are probably attention management’s most proficient users.

Ten Elshof illustrates attention management in his excellent book, “I Told Me So.” Some years ago, a study was performed in which subjects were presented evidence linking excessive caffeine use with breast cancer. After reviewing the data, subjects were asked if they found the evidence convincing. Women who consumed large amounts of caffeine found the evidence less credible than those who consumed little. Men, whether they were coffee drinkers or not, found the evidence persuasive.

In other words, people who might consider the hypothesis bad news were least likely to be convinced by the evidence. It doesn’t require much imagination to see how this works itself out in debates about vaccines, masking, congressional spending limits, belief in the existence of God or, for that matter, which college football teams deserve to be in the championship playoffs.

This problem, rooted in the human tendency toward self-deception, is not going away. What can we do about it? A first step is to humble ourselves and stop being dogmatic. A second step is to give those with whom we disagree the benefit of the doubt regarding their motives. A third step is to listen to understand, not refute. This won’t cure the problem, but it may help control it.

(First published by Gannett.)

Posted in Spiritual life, Truthfulness, Worldview and Culture | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Re-Story Your Life

The way we humans think – that we think at all – is a marvelous thing. There are, of course, different parts of the brain – the mind’s amazing instrument – which perform different functions in the collection, storage, and transfer of information. When the mind uses that information, it does so (in large part) by storying.

Humans use stories to categorize and contextualize information – information that would be practically useless without the God-given ability to make stories. Storying is an essential part of what it means to be human. When God “formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life …” (Genesis 2:7), he became a living storyteller.

The way we process marital bliss and marital problems, vacations, flat tires, and personal conflicts is through stories. This means that if we categorize and contextualize information – including marriage problems and bad bosses – using the wrong stories, we will go wrong. A grateful and happy life will be simply impossible.

An illustration might help. A jet crash-lands on an island in the South Pacific. The survivors scramble off the plane and stand huddled together at a safe distance. And then someone shouts, “There are blankets, clothing, and food in the cargo hold!” As soon as the significance of that dawns on people, everyone tries to get to get to the provisions first, afraid of not getting their share. People are stuffing bread and pretzels and meat in their shirts and trying to get ashore without their fellow castaways knowing they have provisions. Everyone is afraid of starving.

Disgusted by the riot on the beach, a husband and wife decide to explore the island. What they find just over the first hill surprises them: there are cows and chickens everywhere – must have been brought by a shipwrecked vessel a decade ago or more. There are fruit trees and pineapples – the valley is filled with them. There are even cases of dried food rations that must have been left behind when those first castaways were rescued.

Instead of trying to stuff a chicken and a pineapple into their shirts, they return to the beach shouting the good news to everyone and sharing the things they’ve brought back. Why the difference? The one group is telling themselves a story of deprivation and hunger while the other is telling themselves a story of provision and plenty.

Now, one of the things to notice is that the panic the people on the beach felt was real even though the story they told themselves was false. That’s how the stories we tell ourselves work. They affect the way we feel and think. But it is even more than that: the stories are the way we think, at least in large part.

In these last few years of political turmoil and civil unrest, not to mention the calamity of Covid-19, the story many people are telling themselves is one of chaos, loss, and death. How will that affect the way they feel and think? The answer is obvious. They will experience feelings of anxiety, anger, and bewilderment.

Christians believe that their story – having been written into God’s story in Christ – is not one of calamity, loss, and death but of blessing, provision, and eternal life. This doesn’t mean that Christians don’t have troubles – a glance at St. Paul’s laundry list of hardships in 2 Corinthians 12 will convince anyone otherwise – but it does mean that whatever happens in our part of the story is being written into a bigger, better, story. It’s the best story ever, by the best author ever, with the best ending ever.

It is because St. Paul’s understood this that he instructed people to “rejoice always.” This will seem like outrageous advice to anyone who is oblivious to the larger context which Paul assumes. But if his assumption is correct, then his instruction is nothing short of life-giving.

It is time to re-story our lives. Instead of sickness, broken relationships, and political discords, we need to find a stable axis around which our lives can revolve. For Christians, this will mean interpreting and telling their story as part of the adventurous love story God is telling through Christ.

(First published by Gannett.)

Posted in Christianity, Spiritual life, Worldview and Culture | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Absalom, Absalom: The Temptation of Power

In this sermon we dig into the story of King David’s son Absalom. We see how people can be lured away from the good life God has planned for them by the temptation to attain power illegitimately. We also see the wonderful power of true repentance.

Viewing time: Approximately 25 minutes
Posted in Bible, Peace with God, Sermons | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Up, Up, but not Away: The Ascension of Jesus (3)

Prior to Jesus’s ascension, his disciples had assumed that he would continue with them in much the same way he had been with them before. But it was clearly not so. The great transition was taking place, and he had been taken from their sight. But he had given them work to do; they were to be his witnesses to the ends of the earth. They had been commissioned.

Verse 10: “They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them.

‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven’.”

It’s as if they were saying, “What are you standing around for? You’ve been given work to do, and it will be a good thing if he finds you doing it when he comes back.” Like the disciples, we sometimes look for Jesus but cannot see him. We strain our eyes toward heaven, and still miss seeing him. But when we reach our hands to earth to serve the least of his brothers, we suddenly spy him there. That was his intention.

Verse 12: “Then they returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath’s day’s walk (that is about 3/4 mile) from the city.” I wonder how they felt as they walked back to the city. I wonder what they talked about. There was something final about Jesus’s departure. I think they probably understood that they had entered a new phase of life, but how were they to live it? “Witnesses to the ends of the earth”—how were they to do that? What would it look like?

As they walked back to their accommodations in Jerusalem, I don’t think they had any clue about how to answer those questions. The future was a blank. They had no idea what their lives were going to look like. All they had was Jesus’ instruction.

The era into which they had transitioned – the witnesses-to-the-ends-of-the-earth era – has continued to this day. We, like them, do not see the Lord Jesus in the flesh. We, like them, carry on the commission to be witnesses, making disciples of every nation. We, like them, have the words of the Lord and the Spirit of the Lord to guide us.

Don’t forget that Jesus once said, “I tell you the truth: It is better for you that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.”5 The coming of the Holy Spirit ushered in a new era. This was in keeping with God’s unchanged desire to live with people. He had lived with Adam and Eve until the rebellion, when their relationship was broken, and man and God were estranged, separated. Thousands of years of sacrifices, the building of the temple, the promise of a new covenant was all so that God could live with his people again.

He came to us in Jesus, who was Immanuel – God with us. But as a physical being Jesus could not be with ­a lonely old man in India, a young Christian mother in Ecuador, and you in your town all at the same time. The transition was necessary.  It was better for the disciples, it is better for us, that he went away.

Consider this: after the ascension, Jesus continues to show up all over the place – up, up, but not away. Because of the coming of the Spirit, Jesus could be everywhere. In chapter 2, verse 47 we find him bringing people into his church: “The Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.” It wasn’t the apostles and teachers and programs that added people to the church; it was the Lord Jesus. In chapter 9, verse 34 we find him healing people: “‘Aeneas,’ Peter said to him, ‘Jesus Christ heals you. Get up and take care of your mat.’ Immediately Aeneas got up.” In chapter 14, verse 3, we find Jesus working miracles among the Gentiles: “Paul and Barnabas spent considerable time there, speaking boldly for the Lord, who confirmed the message of his grace by enabling them to do miraculous signs and wonders.” We keep seeing the same thing throughout the book.

And that theme continues. Jesus is here, living in his people, acting through them by his Spirit. His ministry on earth, his death, resurrection, and ascension were only the beginning of what he was doing and teaching. He is still at it, and we are invited to join him, to be a part of the kingdom he inaugurated.


5 John 16:7

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Theology | Tagged , | Leave a comment

How to Read the Greatest Story Ever

Photo by Marta Wave on Pexels.com

My six-year-old grandson and five-year-old granddaughter have become writers and illustrators of children’s books. Most of their books feature animal characters like Blue Jay and Little Parrot. They compose the story themselves but ask their dad or mom to write down the text.

This past Sunday, I was the amanuensis for my granddaughter’s latest illustrated book, “Little Parrot Loses His Mom.” I was pleased to see that she, like her older brother, is beginning to grasp the basics of story writing.

For one thing, she gives us an interesting character in Little Parrot. Why is this little guy all alone? Will he be alright? Good stories depend on a protagonist that matters.

My granddaughter understands that her protagonist must have a problem. Little Parrot’s mother is missing. A absent mother is a big problem, both for little parrots and for little authors.

As Little Parrot tries to resolve his problem, obstacles arise. He is in danger of getting lost as he searches ever deeper into the forest. He encounters wild animals in the hope that they can lead him to his mother. But each new encounter ends in disappointment. In this way, the tension builds, and our interest is sustained.

Finally, my young author provides a resolution to the problem. After repeated failures, Little Parrot finds his mother, who has been gathering food for the family. The tension is relieved, the problem solved. Our protagonist is safe.

It occurs to me that the Bible does something similar. It gives us a story with a protagonist we care about, introduces a world-shattering problem, and narrates attempts to resolve the problem, along with the obstacles that arise to delay success. In the end, the problem is resolved, the tension relieved, and the protagonist succeeds.

People familiar with the Bible will recognize these components. There is a protagonist we care about, a problem that matters, obstacles that arise, and a final, glorious resolution, what J. R. R. Tolkien called the “eucatastrophe.” Most biblical authorities would agree that these elements are present, but they might not agree on their nature.

For example, on one reading of the Bible, the protagonist is human. One could even say that the protagonist is the reader, which makes this approach to the sacred text both humanistic and highly individualistic.

In this way of reading the Bible, the story is a quest, and the object is to reach heaven. The problem is sin, which destines people to hell, which is so unthinkably bad that it must be avoided at all costs. Nevertheless, humans are ineluctably headed there. Then comes the eucatastrophe, when God sends his Son to rescue humanity through his own sacrifice, enabling people to enter heaven and live happily ever after.

There is much that is true and helpful about this reading. However, there is another reading that is more consistent with the biblical authors’ intent. It sees God, rather than humans, as the protagonist. The problem is still sin – or better, rebellion – which has derailed God’s plan to justly rule his creation through wise and loving human regents (this is Genesis 1:26-28).

God acts to restore his creation through a man (Abraham) and his family (the Jews), but – obstacle alert – they become enslaved in a foreign country. He frees them, gives them the wonderful gift of his law, but – another obstacle – they fail to heed it. He gives them a good king to rule them (David), but he and his offspring also fail, which leads to an enormous obstacle: exile and the dissolution of the nation.

It is in the light of this story that the coming of Jesus is good news in the biblical sense. It is the eucatastrophe, the sudden turn of events that ensures the protagonist – God – of his victory.

In this reading of the story, the quest is not man’s but God’s. The goal is not to escape hell but to restore creation, which includes in a fundamental way the remaking of humanity. This theocentric reading of the Bible retains all the key elements, including sin, humanity’s terrible plight, and God’s rescue through Christ. But it keeps the story centered where it belongs – on God.

(First published by Gannett.)

Posted in Bible, Theology | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Up, Up, but not Away: The Ascension of Jesus (2)

When Jesus was crucified, his followers despaired. When he was raised, they were astounded. They realized that something phenomenally important had happened, but they didn’t realize where it would lead. They did not understand that they were living in a period of transition. They assumed that their old dreams were still in play. So, they asked Jesus (Acts 1:6), “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”

The lexicon defines the Greek word translated restore as “to change to a previous good state.” The disciple expected Jesus to remain among them as he had before. They could only suppose that he would take his rightful place as the king of Israel, drive out the foreigners, and restore Israel to a place of national sovereignty. They looked at the future through the lens of the past.

But God had something else, something they could not imagine, in mind. The kingdom Jesus brought did not belong to Israel, but to God. The king would sit on a throne, but it would be in heaven, not Jerusalem. His royal attendants would not be known by titles like “lord” or “benefactor”, but by names like Peter, John, and Matthew. The power at their disposal would not be arms and armies, but radical, death-defying, life-giving, enemy-conquering, Holy Spirit-originating love. Instead of casting the Romans out of their earthly kingdom, that love would sweep Rome into God’s heavenly kingdom. Instead of bringing the Gentiles to their knees, it would raise them up to the heavens.

Now they had just asked, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”, and it was not the first time they asked a question like that.1 But I think there was another question in their minds they did not articulate: “Are we about to get our promotion to positions of authority?”

Now look at verse 7: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

They wanted authority, but they would receive power (or ability, as the word could be translated). And this isn’t what they were expecting. It was authority, after all, that was important to them. They dreamed about sitting on thrones. In fact, just before Jesus’ arrest, they had argued about which of them would be placed in the highest positions of authority. But Jesus had a different idea: instead of sitting on thrones as rulers, they would go into all the world as witnesses; instead of exercising authority, they would be given power.

When we think of a witness we usually think of someone who tries to persuade others to believe in Christ. That is a very good thing, but it is not what Jesus had in mind here. A witness is someone who has seen something and tells what he has seen. In this case, a witness is someone who has seen Jesus, and tells about it.

That was not really what the disciples had in mind. They wanted to be “lords” in Israel, not witnesses to the ends of the earth. But remember, they were entering a period of great transition, a fact which became clear to them almost immediately.

Verse 9: “After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.” We read in verse three that Jesus had appeared to his people many times over a period of forty days in what are often called “post-resurrection appearances.” But verse 9 is a transition verse: instead of a post-resurrection appearance, we have a post-resurrection disappearance.4 He was hidden from their sight.


4 I am indebted to William Larkin for this phrase.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Church, Theology | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments