Shall He Be King? (Jesus on Palm Sunday)

There was much more going on at Jesus’s “Triumphal Entry” than most of us realize. This sermon examines the various groups that were present and the motivations behind their actions. It also shows why Jesus’s entry in Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday is relevant to us in the 21st century.

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Today is Palm Sunday, when the church celebrates what is known as “The Triumphal Entry.” It was Jesus’s highly symbolic entrance into the Capitol City just days before he was betrayed and executed. Most of us know the broad outlines of the story. Jesus rode into Jerusalem amid the cheers of a welcoming crowd. Five days later, those same people shouted for his execution. The fickle crowd turned against Jesus and had him crucified.

But that is not the entire story. It is not even the same story. For us to understand what is going on as Jesus rides into Jerusalem, we need to know who the different groups are that were involved and how each looked at what was happening.

The first group is comprised of Jesus and his disciples, though we should probably distinguish between them, since Jesus and the disciples understood what was happening in very different ways. The disciples were – this is the Evangelist Mark’s description – “astonished.” Jesus, who had always skirted the “messiah” question – warning his apostles not to talk about it, ordering the demonized to be silent – was now leading a massive crowd of pilgrims into the city, like a general marshaling his troops. Jesus had taken charge.

I suspect the disciples thought: “Finally! We’ve been waiting for this for three years! This is the beginning of the revolution. Jesus is taking his rightful place at last.”

When the crowds acknowledged Jesus to be the coming one – that’s shorthand for Israel’s messiah and the king, and he didn’t silence them; when the Pharisees begged him to tell the crowds to be quiet, and he refused, replying that if they were quiet the very stones would cry out – that’s when the disciples knew it was really happening. I think they must have been frightened, invigorated, and deliriously happy all at the same time.

The next groups are the crowds, and I say “groups” intentionally because there is more than one and we won’t understand what is going on unless we distinguish between them. The crowds that hailed Jesus as Messiah and king comprised one group. For the most part, they were pilgrims who had traveled to Jerusalem from Galilee for the Feast of Passover. That group included some of the same people who, a year earlier, tried to force the kingship on Jesus. (You can ready about that in John 6.) They want change and they believe Jesus is one to bring it.

But Galileans don’t comprise the entire crowd. There are thousands from around Judea and from Jerusalem. Many of these people know about Jesus and some have heard him teach, but they have had far less face time with Jesus than the Galileans. And there are still others from Jewish communities in Syria, Egypt, and around the Mediterranean, most of whom have never heard of Jesus. It is primarily the Galileans who chant Psalm 118:26, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Others in the crowd doesn’t know what to think.

So, it wasn’t the people hailing Jesus as king who turned against him five days later. They probably didn’t know about his crucifixion until it was already happening. The people who shouted for Jesus to be crucified were Judeans who only knew what their leaders – Jesus’s enemies – told them.

Those leaders comprise yet another group. They have been opposed to Jesus for a couple of years, and since the Feast of Tabernacles, which was six months earlier, they have been working on plans to get rid of him. As they watch him entering the city, they do not see the arrival of their new national leader, like the Galileans; they do not see a Messiah, like the disciples. They see a volatile firebrand who is about to bring the iron fist of Rome down on them. They’re scared. At a recent meeting of the nation’s highest ruling body, members were saying: “What are we accomplishing? …If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him…” (John 11:47).

The raising of Lazarus from the dead had sent the nation’s leaders into a tailspin. It had happened a few months earlier, and the religious leaders had been beside themselves ever since. All their efforts to stop Jesus had failed, and now he had performed an outstanding miracle right in their own backyard. They were desperate to get rid of him. “If we let him go on like this,” they had concluded, “… the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation” (John 11:48).

The other group present werethe Romans – the Roman army, to be precise. Each year at Passover, the Roman prefect deployed troops to Jerusalem to keep the peace. Passover was the Jews’ Independence Day, and at Passover nationalist fervor ran high. There had been much civil unrest at past festivals, even violent insurrections. So, now, at Passover time, you can’t look left or right without seeing a Roman soldier. They’re everywhere.

So, why didn’t the soldiers see what was going on? Or if they did, why didn’t they stop it? That presents such a problem to some scholars that they have claimed the church made up the triumphal entry. They insist that if anything like what John describes had really take place, the Roman military would have intervened.

But they are mistaken. They forget that the Roman army was comprised of men from all around the Mediterranean. There were Egyptians, Syrians, Greeks, Italians, Asians, Cappadocians, Libyans, and many others. But there were no Jews. Jews didn’t serve in the Roman army. That means that there were few, if any, military personnel who understood what the crowds were yelling in Aramaic. They would have heard the noise and the cheers, but they would not have seen that as a threat.

Neither would the Roman soldiers have grasped the symbolism in Jesus’s choice of a donkey’s colt for a mount. Romans – especially Roman soldiers – knew all about “triumphal entries.” Whenever Caesar or one of his generals returned victorious from a battle in which at least 5,000 enemy combatants had been killed, a great celebration – a triumphal entry – took place. Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem didn’t look anything like that.

When Caesar returned from battle, tens of thousands lined the road into Rome. They cheered as he rode by in a chariot, pulled by great steeds. Behind him was a long line of captives, including kings and generals. The procession would wind its way to the arena, where thousands gathered to watch selected captives fight wild animals.

Is it any wonder the Roman soldiers missed the triumph of Jesus’s triumphal entry. They did not see a mighty warrior. They saw a man in commoner’s clothing. There were no great steeds, only a young donkey. And where were the captive kings and generals? They saw peasants and children

Here is something to remember. What God sees as important and what people see as important are two different things. For the most part, the world is always excited about all the wrong things. If we follow their lead, we will miss the right things – we will miss what God is doing in the world. This is a big problem for many of us who confess Jesus Lord.

Now that we know the parties involved, we are ready to look at what is taking place. Look at verse 12: “The great crowd that had come for the feast…” (These are Galilean festivalgoers who arrived in Jerusalem before Jesus. The Jerusalemites hadn’t come for the feast; they were already there.) “…heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. They took palm branches and went out to meet him…”

But palm trees don’t grow around Jerusalem, which is another reason historians doubt the validity of the Triumphal Entry. They do, however, grow in Jericho, and thousands of Galileans had just passed through Jericho on their way to the festival. Jesus himself had come through Jericho at the head of a caravan just days before. The fact that they had cut palm branches and brought them with them suggests they had this in mind before they got to Jerusalem. This was, I think, a second attempt on the part of Galileans to force Jesus to declare himself Israel’s king. And this time, Jesus did not stop them.

Alongside the Galileans is a sub-group of the Jerusalemites. There are the people who were present when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, and the friends whom they had told about it. They also came out to meet Jesus. This is verse 17: “Now the crowd that was with him when he called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to spread the word. Many people, because they had heard that he had given this miraculous sign, went out to meet him.”

As Jesus rode by, people in the crowd (these are probably the Galileans) began shouting, “Hosanna,” which is Hebrew and means something like, “O save!” I say, “something like” because by the first century the word was used as a general shout of praise or celebration. If you’d asked the people shouting it to define it, they might have struggled. It was like our word, “Hooray!” We all know what it means but not many of us could define it.

They also cried, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the King of Israel!” (John 12:13). If the Roman soldiers had understood Aramaic, there would have been problems right then and there. They didn’t; but the Pharisees and scribes did. The crowd was shouting to Jesus the words of Psalm 118, which was sung every year at Passover.

“The one who comes” or, literally, “the coming one” was a title for the Messiah. These people were hailing Jesus as Israel’s savior and king. Some of the Pharisees begged Jesus to stop people from chanting this. But this time, for the first time, Jesus welcomed it.

Look at verses 14 and 15: “Jesus found a young donkey and sat upon it. As it is written, ‘Do not be afraid, O Daughter of Zion; see, your king is coming, seated on a donkey’s colt.’ At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that they had done these things to him.”

Why a donkey’s colt? If Jesus wanted to make an impression, wouldn’t he have done better to borrow a horse—maybe even a chariot? Peddlers rode donkeys, not kings. But Jesus knew something that the Roman soldiers didn’t know and that the disciples momentarily forgot: in the Old Testament, Zechariah had prophesied that Israel’s king would ride into Jerusalem on a donkey’s colt.

Jesus was intentionally fulfilling Zechariah’s prophecy: “See, your king is coming, seated on a donkey’s colt” – in other words, coming in peace. But the disciples, even the ones Jesus sent to get the colt, didn’t realize at the time that Zechariah was writing about Jesus. They were caught up in a great big story, playing a role in it, and didn’t even know it.

I think that happens to us too. Whenever we do what Jesus says, we get caught up in his story and become a part of it, even when we don’t realize it.

When Jesus’s adversaries heard the shouts, saw the palm branches waving, and cloaks being laid on the road in front of Jesus (which was what people had done at the coronation of King Jehu), they were confounded. Look at verse 19. “So, the Pharisees said to one another, ‘See, this is getting us nowhere. Look how the whole world has gone after him.’”

The Pharisees and their fellow-conspirators had decided not to arrest Jesus during the feast, for fear of inciting a riot. Now, they were having second thoughts. Could they afford to wait? The whole city could be a bloodbath by week’s end.

Blood was shed, as we know, but it was Jesus’s blood. The story of which he was a part – was the lead character – the story that had begun long before Zechariah’s prophecy, that went back to the foundations of the world, was coming to its climax. The Lamb of God was being offered – was offering himself – for the sins of the world.

This is the story that we are in, the story of the God who pursues us, the maker who restores us, the Father who comes running to meet us. It is a love story, an adventure story, and a divine comedy all rolled into one. And everything turns out all right for those who belong to Jesus.

But from inside the story, things often look like they will turn out all wrong, which is why “we live by faith, not by sight.” After a tornado swept through a small town, a local builder had more work than he could handle. His own home had been destroyed and he and his wife were living in a one-bedroom apartment while he worked on everyone else’s homes. He worked hard and was fair to everyone, with the possible exception of himself and his wife.

His final post-tornado build was for a businessman who owned properties all around the area and for whom he already had done a great deal of work. This was not a repair; it was a demolition and new construction. The businessman visited the worksite weekly, and sometimes several times a week, to make sure everything was being done to his satisfaction. The builder just wanted to get this one done, so he could finally start work on his own place, but he was conscientious and he did his work well.

When the house was finished, the businessman was there to receive the keys. He said to the builder, “Look, I know I’ve been tough on you. You have been working hard and I pushed you even harder … but I wanted this house to be just right because I was having it built for a special person.” Then he handed the keys back to the builder and said, “These are yours. You didn’t know it, but all this time you’ve been building this house for yourself and for your wife.”

As we go through life, doing our work, struggling over hardships, helping others for Christ’s sake, we don’t realize that God is using these things to build us. We won’t fully realize that until we stand before the Lord in glory.

“At first his disciples did not understand all this. Only when Jesus was glorified did they realize that these things had been written about him and that they had done these things to him.” I suspect that when we get to heaven, we shall have this same experience repeatedly.

Things we didn’t understand, that made no sense to us at all, will light up with meaning. We will see God’s hand everywhere, bringing good, righting wrong, redeeming the time. Sometimes we will see that his hand was operating – to our joy and amazement – through us. Sometimes – to our shame – that his hand was operating despite us. But, at all times, he was doing what was right and good.

The key to making sense of our past – and our present, for that matter – is found in the words, “only when Jesus was glorified…” When Jesus is glorified, the light that comes from him makes things clear. But in isolation from Jesus and his glory, our circumstances are a book written in a language we can’t understand.

We don’t have to wait for the new age to glorify Jesus. Our lives can be all for his glory now. When they are, things we’ve never understood will shine with meaning. But we see this only in the light of Jesus’s glory.

One of the books I most enjoyed reading is J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Professor Tolkien’s character, Aragorn, reminds me of Jesus. Though many people criticize him and some hate him outright – and almost no one understands him – he labors for their good in relative obscurity. Only a handful of people know who he really is: their rightful king.

Then the day comes when he enters into the great city and reveals his true identity. A herald proclaims: “Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dunedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur’s son, Elendil’s son of Numenor.”[1]

Then the herald cries, “‘Shall he be king and enter into the City and dwell there?’ And all the people and all the host cried ‘Yea!’ in one voice.”

This scene has a parallel in real life. Every time a person acknowledges Jesus as Lord and welcomes him into his or her life, there is a triumphal entry. And those who welcome him now will be welcomed by him then, when the King returns. He will say, “Come, you blessed of my Father, enter into the joy of your Lord!”

Today, I serve as herald to the King of Glory. “Here is Jesus the Messiah, the Second Adam, the Bright and Morning Star, the First and the Last, Son of David, Son of Man, Lamb slain before the foundation of the world, Fear of Jacob, Lion of Judah, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.”

Shall he be king and enter your life and dwell there? What say you: Yea or Nay?


[1] Ken Langley, Zion, Illinois, in Preaching Today.com

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Potential, Choice, and the Cost of Being Real

Biologically speaking, before you became who you are, you were a zygote—a single fertilized cell with mind-bending potential. Soon afterwards – within a matter of hours – you were a morula (Latin for “mulberry”). A morula is comprised of 60 or more cells, all lumped together. At this point in your biological development, you looked like a microscopic mulberry. Your biological potential, originally housed in the DNA of parental gametes, was still unthinkably vast, yet slightly reduced.

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By about five days into your biological journey, you became a blastocyst. At this point, you were comprised of something like 150 cells. At each stage of development, you became bigger and better defined, but always at the cost of potentiality. You started with the potential to be anyone within the confines of the DNA in your cell. Since there are 3.2 billion nucleotide pairs on our chromosomes (humans have 46 of them), and every one of those pairs can combine in four possible ways, that is a lot of potential. By day 5, the billions of different versions of you that had been possible had decreased. You were on your way to becoming yourself.

You were an embryo before you knew it—quite literally. Significant development occurred during the embryonic phase, which means that your potential (though still vast) has been further narrowed. Nine weeks in and you are a fetus. You’re beginning to look like a human being and even like a particular human being, but advances in development always comes at the cost of diminishing potential.

By the time you were born, your biological potential (for example, the color of your eyes, the shape of your face, the complexion of your skin, your body type) was narrower than it was when you were a morula. With each step of development, the breadth of potentiality is diminished. In return for this expenditure of potential, you became more substantially (and not just potentially) yourself.

I am now a 67-year-old man. My potential as a biological creature has been significantly reduced from when I was a child. I have paid (and continue to pay) the piper of potentiality. What I have received for that payment has been me—not a potential me, but the real-deal, existential me.

I hope I’ve been worth the price.

But even though I am past middle age, I am still becoming. This seems a hugely important fact about me and about all humans. It’s true that my potential has been diminished by the volitional choices I have initiated and the biological changes I cannot stop, but it has not been exhausted. I have become a particular me rather than many possible versions of me, but the particular me is not yet fixed. I can still change, grow, and become. The potential to become something I am not now is at the heart of what it means to be human.

(What I’ve written in the paragraph above is not meant to convey the idea that I am who I am solely on the basis of my own choices. My choices are an important factor in my development, but hardly the only one. They are, however, the one for which I am responsible.)

Humans never stop changing. Still, an older person, say someone my age, might say: “Of course, I changed when I was younger, but not anymore. I settled into who I was going to become a long time ago.”

Nonsense. People continue to change, regardless of their age. Their bodies change whether or not they want them to. Brains grow and atrophy. Muscle mass increases for a time, then begins to decrease. Our bodies replace billions of cells every day. We are always developing into something different than what we are now.

Change on the biological level is not the only kind of change humans experience, nor is it the most important. Humans are a biological/spiritual hybrid, and transformation happens across both areas. Man (in the generic, Genesis 1:27 sense, comprised of both male and female) is becoming something that he/she is not now, but whether that something is godlike or devilish depends on the individual.

That is what C. S. Lewis had in mind when he said: “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations.”

A serious thing indeed. I am progressing toward an end in which I will be joyful and joy-inspiring or wretched and revolting. That I will be one or the other is certain. Which I become depends on my attitude (in the sense used by pilots) toward God—my orientation in reference to him. If I am moving toward him, I am moving toward godlike joy. If I am moving away from him, I am headed toward wretchedness and ruin.

This is why Lewis claimed: “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours.”

I will still be in process of becoming when I die. It is the resurrection that will seal who I will become, though the process of growth and change may (and, I think, will) continue. To be human is to change. God sent his Son so that the change might be into eternal joy and not unending wretchedness.

When he looks at me, I hope he thinks the price was worth it.

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The Strange Disappearance of St. Peter

Nearly everyone who knows anything about the Gospels would say that Peter was the leader of the apostolic band. There is good reason for saying so. His nickname (Peter) appears 156 times in the New Testament and his given name (Simon) dozens of additional times. Peter was the first of the apostles to declare that Jesus was Israel’s Messiah. Jesus spent more time with Peter than he did with most of the other disciples, and gave him more tasks to do than he gave the others. In lists of the apostles, Peter’s name always comes first, which was an important indicator of rank in ancient literature.

Peter certainly seems to have been the leader of the apostles and yet there was a time when his leadership seems to have been in question. Witness the arguments among the disciples, which happened on more than one occasion (Mark 9:34; Luke 9:46; 22:24) about which of them was the greatest. Peter’s supremacy was apparently not taken for granted by the other apostles. They even argued about it on the eve of Jesus’s crucifixion!

Very interestingly, Peter disappears from each of the four Gospels for a period of time before the triumphal entry. (I first learned of this from Leon Morris’s great commentary on John.) For example, Peter is not mentioned between chapters 19 and 26 of Matthew. It was during this time that James and John, the sons of Zebedee, went secretly to Jesus to request the highest positions in his organization. That was probably not a coincidence.

In Luke, the absence occurs between chapters 18-22, which covers the same time span as the gaps in Matthew and in the more condensed narrative of Mark. In John’s Gospel, the gap occurs between chapters 7 and 13. Peter is conspicuously absent at the raising of Lazarus. This is particularly apparent when Thomas steps up as spokesman for the apostles (John 11:16).

That Peter is not mentioned is successive chapters of the Gospels is not sufficient evidence to prove his absence from the apostolic band, but the fact that these reference gaps occur during the same time period across all four Gospels is very persuasive. So, let us assume that Peter had to leave the apostolic band for a space of time – a few weeks to a couple of months. Let us assume that family issues forced his temporary departure. (He was, after all, married, and his mother-in-law had been seriously ill at an earlier time in the Gospel record.)

We can imagine that Peter might have been a little uncertain of his position of leadership when he returned to the apostles. What may have made things worse – may have caused Peter considerable anxiety – was the seating arrangement at the Passover meal on the night of Jesus’s betrayal. If Leon Morris was right (and I expect he was), Peter was not seated on Jesus’s immediate right or left—the highest places of honor. This seems to be the case, since we know that the unnamed disciple (probably John) was sitting next to Jesus when Peter signaled him to ask Jesus which of the disciples would betray him. Seating arrangements were carefully planned in first century Israel, and if Jesus had Peter seated well away from himself, both Peter and the other disciples may have interpreted that as a demotion.

Peter’s return to the apostolic band, which seems to have happened not long before the Triumphal Entry, may have led to the crucifixion eve argument over which of the apostles was greatest. Peter himself was likely uncertain about where he fit—and worried about it. This might explain why he stubbornly told Jesus, who had washed the feet of one disciple after another, that he would never wash his feet. It may also lie behind Peter’s vehement contradiction of his master when Jesus predicted that all the apostles would forsake him. Peter, remember, said: “Even if all fall away” – that is, all these other guys – “I will not.”

It may also explain why Peter, who carried a short sword, followed Jesus all the way to the house of Annas, the former high priest who still called the shots in Israel’s politics. Did Peter think that liberating Jesus from the enemy would prove his worth?

One can imagine Peter thinking to himself: “Which of us is the greatest? That’s easy. The one who risks his life. The one who frees his Lord or dies trying. He’s the greatest.”

Of course, Peter didn’t die trying. But something in him did die that night: his self-confidence, self-importance, and misplaced sense of honor. Three days later, they were resurrected and transformed into confidence in God, the importance of friends, and honor for his Lord.

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The End of All Things: It’s Near

How do we get ready for “the end of all things”? By stocking up on canned and dry goods? How about building a bunker? Buying guns?

St. Peter counseled none of those things. Watch to learn what he did counsel.

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Seeing with the Mind’s Eye

Elijah the Tishbite was arguably the greatest of the Old Testament’s prophets. The man was extraordinarily brave, keenly discerning, and profoundly spiritual. He was guided by God in remarkable ways. His actions turned an entire nation from idols to God in a single day.

It is easy to think that there is a great divide between Elijah and people like us. Some preachers actually encourage this kind of thinking. I had a book on my shelves by a late 19th century author that lionized Elijah. He wrote: “Elijah towers up like a mountain…above all the other prophets. There is a mystery and un-earthiness about Elijah. As Elijah never died, so he was never born, as we are born. Elijah came from God and he went to God. Elijah stood before God till God could dispense with and spare Elijah out of his presence no more.”

So, Elijah is a towering mountain and the rest of us are the merest molehills?  Yet James wrote “Elijah was a man with a nature like ours” (James 5:17, ESV). He had feelings, cares, worries, just like we do. He struggled with doubts. He shared our strengths, but also our weaknesses and foibles.

In 1 King 19:3, we read: “Elijah was afraid and ran for his life.” A more literal translation runs, “Elijah saw and ran for his life.” What was it that Elijah saw, and just how did he see it?

Elijah saw that Queen Jezebel had ordered his assassination. He saw that she had the power to pull it off. He saw that there would be no place in Israel where he could hide. He saw that with him out of the way, the nascent revival that had just begun would die out. He saw that all his sacrifice – years of being on the run, eating scraps, sleeping in caves – would all be for nothing. What he saw left no room for hope.

That is what he saw. But how did he see it? He saw it with his mind’s eye. His imagination could picture it unfolding. And though he did not see all this with physical eyes, it was as real to Elijah as if he had.

When we believe something to be true – whether it is hardly matters – our emotions will respond as if it were true. That is what happened to Elijah. He saw unmitigated disaster, panicked, and lost hope. He became seriously depressed, even to the point of wanting to die.

But what Elijah saw with his mind’s eye was misleading, for it was missing something. It saw, truly enough, Jezebel’s ferocity and Israel’s lack of resolution. It saw days of hardship. But it did not see God.

I, too, have “seen” things with my mind’s eye. I have seen how this person treated me in an unjust manner and why they did so. (It is remarkable how easy it is for the mind’s eye to detect motives!) I have seen how this person’s unexpected absence meant that they were leaving our group. I have seen how the event we are sponsoring will be a success and how that will result in increased momentum, positive morale, and the eventual attainment of our goal. I have seen all this—even when it wasn’t there.

The vision in my mind’s eye is suspect—or at least it should be. On some days this kind of vision is profoundly myopic, on other days it is ridiculously hyperopic, and on almost all days it suffers from a severe astigmatism. Sometimes my mind’s eye sees images that are bright and sometimes dark, but those images are almost always distorted. Nevertheless, I often assume that what my mind’s eye saw was real and accurate, and so my emotions respond accordingly.

Someone might think, and some people have certainly taught, that seeing positive outcomes with the mind’s eye is the essence of faith. But faith is not seeing the outcome we want but seeing the God we serve. Faith sees him who is invisible to the outward eye but perceptible to the eyes of the heart, and it sees him when circumstances are favorable and when they are ruinous, when life is so hard we don’t know how we can survive, and when life is so good we think we must have died and gone to heaven.

The cure – the corrective surgery – for the mind’s eye is an encounter with God. When Elijah understood that God was listening and when he heard God speaking, his vision finally cleared, his depression lifted, and his hope was restored. God supplied the corrective lens for his mind’s eye (see 1 Kings 19:14-18).

God is able to do the same thing for us when our vision is skewed. The trouble is we won’t know when our vision is skewed. That’s why we must learn to recognize hopelessness as a symptom of “Mind’s Eye Disease.” When the vision in our mind’s eye darkens and we start losing hope, we need to go to the One who knows how to “open the eyes of the blind.”

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Quoting Bible Verses (in an MRI machine)

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When people have talked about having an MRI, I have sometimes joked that “they” would need to hit me over the head to get me into an MRI machine.

A couple of weeks ago, I got hit over the head. I was at a breakfast meeting when the vision in the lower half of my right eye went dark. I felt odd. It passed in a minute or so (probably less), but I had lost my appetite and was ready to go home.

I had a doctor’s appointment already scheduled for that afternoon with a brand-new PCP, so I told him about my experience. His mind went immediately to a stroke, and he asked me a series of questions.

“Did you experience weakness?”

“No.”

“Did you experience confusion?”

“No.”

‘Was your speech slurred?”

“No.”

Based on that exchange, he referred me to an ophthalmologist … and scheduled an MRI.

For the past fifteen years, I have been seriously claustrophobic.

When I was younger, I had no fear of being enclosed in small places. I rather liked it. So, I don’t know what happened to change that, but it changed. The first time I experienced it I was on an airplane that had already landed and stopped at the gate. People got up – I wasn’t in the aisle seat, so I stayed where I was – but no one moved for about twenty minutes. I don’t know why they didn’t open the door, but I began to breathe hard. I looked for a way out. I wondered how many people I would need to knock over to get to the door. (I was near the back of the plane). I was having a panic attack, though I didn’t know it.

A few years ago, I had another panic attack. I was in the back of a 15-passenger van in Tijuana, Mexico. I took the back seat to be polite, to let other people have the nicer spots. But then 17 people clambered aboard. When the driver parked and got out (“I’ll just be a minute”) and didn’t come back for fifteen minutes, I had another panic attack. I quoted Bible verses for most of those fifteen minutes, while a voice in the background of my mind kept saying, “You’ve got to get out of here.”

And today, I have an MRI on my brain. Which not only means getting stuck in the tube, but being locked in a helmet. I’ve always heard that bravery is not the absence of fear but doing what needs to be done even when you are afraid. Today, I’ll find out how brave I am.

I’ve declined taking a pill to calm me. I have other things going on today and cannot afford to be loopy. I intend to pray in the MRI machine, quote verses, and praise God.

I’d almost forgotten: the test is happening because something is wrong in me. I suppose that is the serious thing, but I’ll think about that later. For now, “Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

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Eveready (video)

This message from 1 Peter reveals three reasons Christians need to prepare. The video is just over 26 minutes. If you prefer to read the sermon, click here.

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Eveready

If I asked you to list five traits that should characterize a Christian, which ones would you choose? I actually have done that, and these were the most common responses I received: Loving, joyful, hopeful, loyal, unafraid, kind, faithful, holy, compassionate, trustworthy, sacrificial.

Those are good answers, but I’d like to add one that no one ever mentions because people don’t think of it as a Christian trait. But Peter did and, what’s more, he got the idea from Jesus himself. So, while the answers I relayed to you are good and right and biblical, I’d like to add one more. Christians need to be ready.

Jesus said it himself. “…you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect”(Matthew 24:44). “What I say to you I say to all: ‘Stay alert!’” (Mark 13:37). Or the warning in the parable, “That servant who knows his master’s will and does not get ready or does not do what his master wants will be beaten with many blows” (Luke 12:47).

Jesus wants his followers to be ready. Ready for what? Ready for him. What does that look like? Peter mention three things. It looks like (3:14-16) being ready to give an answer to anyone who asks us the reason for our hope. It looks like (3:17-4:4) being ready to suffer. It looks like (4:5-6) being ready for judgment. We’ll take each in turn. The sermon is titled Eveready and we will be looking at 1 Peter 3:14-4:6.

First, we need to be ready to give an answer (1 Peter 3:15). Some Christians spend a great deal of time preparing, refining, and polishing their answer. They take apologetics courses, read books, and learn the lingo, but no one is asking them questions.

That’s why what we looked at last week is so important. We not only need to prepare an answer; we need to prompt the question. And the way we do that is by living differently from our neighbors. We spend time and money differently. We think differently. We focus on different things. We will never prompt questions by being like everyone else, only by being different.

One of the ways we are different, verse 14, is that we don’t fear the things other people fear. People have real fears right now about Ukraine and the U.S. involvement there. At the same time, our country is on the brink of a tariff war, and some economists are predicting it will lead to higher inflation, a rise in unemployment, and a stalled economy. If it does, will I lose my job? Will the stock market tank? What will happen to my retirement?

These are pertinent questions and Christians are asking them just like everyone else. But Christians must not be afraid of the answer! Peter says, “Do not fear what they fear.” If you fear the same things your non-Christian relative or friend or coworker fears, you won’t need to be ready with an answer because no one will be asking you questions. But if you live like Peter instructed, you’d better get your answer ready because people will be asking.

But there is more to getting your answer ready that working on content. How we present that content is crucial. We can work for years, perfecting our answer and then present it in a way that turns people off. That’s why Peter counsels us to answer with gentleness and respect.

There was a woman in a church I previously pastored whose husband never came with her. So, I went to him. I would visit at their home every once in a while, and, since we both enjoyed fishing in Canada, we hit it off pretty well. But there was no talking to him about spiritual things. A previous pastor had spoiled that.

Instead of being gentle, he had come into this man’s home and insisted that he get down on his knees, confess his sins, and accept Jesus. The pastor was promptly invited to leave, and the man closed himself off to any further talk about Jesus.

Peter wants us to answer with respect, but respect is now on the endangered virtues list. What does it look like to show respect to a person with whom you are sharing the good news of Jesus? It looks a lot like handing that other person the power over the conversation. They are allowed to disagree. They have the right to terminate the conversation or change the subject. We won’t disrespect them by forcing them to listen or by maneuvering them into a decision. We are so confident in Jesus that we don’t need to do that.

To sum up what we’ve seen so far, we prepare to give an answer by getting free of fear. (God will help us with that.) We think through a reasonable and clear answer to the question of our hope and we practice gentleness and respect (practice being the operative word). We can’t turn gentleness and respect on and off when we choose. We must work on in all our relationships.

Finally, we prepare by keeping a clear conscience (verse 16). No hypocrisy. No hiding our sins. Our answers, no matter how polished, are bound to ring false if we are false—if we are acting hypocritically.

So, what steps do you need to take to be ready to give an answer? If you are controlled by fear, start working with God to change that. If you need to better understand the content of our hope, start where Peter did: with the resurrection of Jesus. “We have been given new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…” (1 Peter 1:3). That will happen at the glorious appearing of our great Savior Jesus Christ—our blessed hope (Titus 2:13).

At his appearance, things will be set right. We will be set right. At the resurrection, we will be given bodies that are like his glorious body (Philippians 3:21), bodies suited to the new age, bodies that will never deteriorate. The earth will have its own kind of resurrection. Jesus calls this the palingenesis – Genesis again – the beginning of a new heaven and new earth, where righteousness dwells (2 Peter 3:13). In this new heaven and earth, we will live with God in our midst, as he always intended (Rev. 21:3-4).

You could sum it up this way: We are destined for glory (Romans 8:18). What Adam lost – loving, wise dominion over the earth – will be restored to us when the One seated on the throne declares: “Behold, I make all things new.”

This is our hope. Every other hope in humanity’s history, whether religious (think Islam or Buddhism), humanistic (think socialism or communism), or scientific (think Peter Thiel and Elon Musk) pales before the grand hope that is ours.

What other steps must we take to be ready to give an answer? If you talk too much, if you try to control the conversation, or come across as proud, practice treating everyone with respect. If there are things on your conscience that prevent you from talking to people about Jesus, confess those things to God, to another person, and get serious about change. We need to do what it takes to be ever ready to give an answer.

But that is not all there is to being ready. If we live as Peter instructed, we will find ourselves on a collision course with suffering. Being ready to give an answer is not enough; we must also be ready to suffer. This is chapter 4, verse 1: “Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude” –of mindset – “because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin.”

We are to arm ourselves with the attitude of Christ. How do we do that? What does it mean to arm yourself with a mindset?

This verse has generated a great many opinions among scholars. There are four main views of what Peter means by, “because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin.” It seems to me that scholars are in such a rush to explain the second part of this verse (the explanation), that they don’t take time to understand the first part of the verse (the instruction itself). Just what is this mindset that Peter sees as a kind of protective armor?

It is clear to me that he had something specific in mind, something he had seen displayed in Jesus himself. Peter had seen that something again and again: when Jesus “set his face” toward Jerusalem, knowing what awaited him there. When Jesus went to help Lazarus over the disciples’ objections that it was a suicide mission. When Jesus prayed in the garden, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup [of suffering] from me…” Peter heard that. He knew that Jesus did not want to suffer. But he also heard him pray, “yet not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42).

What is this mindset that Peter saw in Jesus, that he himself had adopted, and was now requiring of Jesus’s followers? Put briefly, it is this: “I will suffer, if need be, but I will not disobey God.” Jesus knew that in this broken and disordered world, it will sometimes be impossible to obey God and yet avoid suffering. Jesus had made up his mind that on such occasions he would obey God and suffer. The right and natural desire to avoid suffering would not determine his actions. Obedience to God would.

We have seen repeatedly how following Peter’s instructions will make Jesus’s people different. Doing good deeds is a higher priority for them. Submitting to others is a lifestyle. Refusing to fear what everyone else fears is an identifying mark. But here is another one. Jesus’s people reject the “avoid suffering at all costs” mentality that pervades our culture. They have already made up their minds that when doing God’s will requires suffering – and they know that there will be times when it does – then they will suffer. They will hurt. They will experience loss. But they will not disobey God.

To live this way is to be radically different from almost everyone else. The ancient philosopher Epictetus used the same word Peter uses here to speak of society’s “common mindset.” The common mindset in our society is characterized by an unconditional commitment to avoiding suffering. That commitment is not only in place; it is continually growing stronger. The day will come when society’s commitment to avoiding suffering will be inviolable.

When that day comes, we will not be able to defend our nation because not enough people will be enlisting in the armed forces, where the possibility of suffering is high. Businesses will not be able to find workers because work is too much like suffering. People will demand that the government make their lives easy and free of pain. But when you think about it, these are things that are already happening.

Addictions will rage, for in the heart of every addict is a commitment not to suffer. Marriages will fail. Life-long friendships will be few. Love itself will grow cold because the possibility of suffering is inherent in love. But we will love.

Let others avoid suffering at all costs. We will not. We will suffer when faithfulness to Christ requires it. And we know that it will sometimes require it. This is what Paul told the Philippian church: “For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for him,” (Philippians 1:29).

The first step in arming oneself with this mindset is the choice to suffer rather than disobey or dishonor God. That choice is the foundation of this mindset. But a mindset is more than a choice, just as a building is more than a foundation. A mindset is constructed from ideas and thoughts, which are the boards nails with which every mindset is built.

So how do I construct a mindset that won’t collapse as soon as real suffering comes? I will build it from ideas and thoughts that I’ve learned from Jesus. I just said, “I will build it,” but it is important to understand that I am not the architect nor the general contractor of this mindset; God’s Spirit is. But I need to give the Spirit materials to work with – ideas, thoughts, and knowledge.

Those quality materials can be obtained from the Bible. I know that some people think that reading the Bible is a kind of suffering in itself. If you are one of those folks, then, my friend, suffer for Jesus! If you won’t suffer the loss of a little time and the taxing of your concentration, how can you expect to suffer real pain when faithfulness to Jesus requires it?

Now, it is important to understand that a mindset shaped by the Bible will not relieve you from suffering. It may even lead you into it. But you will endure it and you won’t do what so many others do: you won’t suffer over your suffering. You won’t cry, “I can’t believe this is happening to me!” You won’t keep repeating, parrot-like, “This is so unfair!” Once we have made the choice to suffer rather than be faithless to God, once we have a mind that is filled with the kinds of thoughts and ideas that filled Jesus’s mind, suffering won’t be able to break us, and sin won’t be able to hold us.

Being ready means being ready to give an answer and being ready to suffer. When we are, we will be ready for judgment. And that is a good thing because God is ready to judge (1 Peter 4:5): “they will have to give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead.”

Judgment is the missing doctrine of our time, which is odd because in the Bible judgment is hard to miss. It is found from Genesis to Revelation, in the Psalms, and the prophets, the epistles and the Gospels. One hears it from the lips of Abraham, Moses, David, Jesus, and Paul. A Christian faith without judgment is like an algebra equation without an equal sign. It doesn’t add up. Algebra needs an equal sign to make sense, and Christianity needs a judgment for the same reason.

Many people want a God who doesn’t judge, but they wouldn’t like it if they got one. Without a judgment, the battle between good and evil ends in a draw—or rather, it never ends. Without a judgment, the girl who was sexually abused through her childhood will remain a victim through eternity. The harm done to the earth will never be healed. Evil will never end; it will always remain an option.

The judgment is creation’s restore point. The judgment sets everything – us included – right. The judgment is full of hope. That sounds odd to our ears but listen to the psalmist exulting over the judgment. “Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it; let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them.” (Psalm 96:11-12b)

What is the reason for all this jubilation? Why will “all the trees of the forest sing for joy?” “They will sing before the Lord, for [here is thereason] he comes, he comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples in his truth.” (Psalm 96:12-13)

Thank God that the world will be judged! Thank God that we shall be judged. We want there to be a judgment, not because we will be proved right but because we will be put right. I am grateful for Frederick Buechner’s words: “God will ring down the final curtain on history, and … The judge will be Christ. In other words, the one who judges us most finally will be the one who loves us most fully.”[1]

I resonate with Andrew Peterson’s song, The Reckoning, which includes the lines, “Mighty God, how I fear you. How I long to be near you, O Lord. How long, how long until the burden is lifted? How long is this the song that we sing? How long until the reckoning? And I know – I know – that I don’t know what I’m asking. But I long to look you full in the face—I am ready for the reckoning.”

We won’t get ready for the reckoning by getting religion. We’ll get ready by giving ourselves to Jesus. Those who long for the judge don’t fear the judgment. And if we live the way Peter has been describing to us, we will long for the judge. We will be ready.


[1] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Seeker’s ABC (Harper Collins, 1993), p. 58

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Is Your Gospel Missing Something?

Some years ago, I was surprised and a little unsettled by a Bible verse I had read many times. I’ve been surprised and unsettled in this way many times, so often, in fact, that I have learned to see it as the preface to fresh insight and a more robust understanding. Instead of worrying that these surprises mean I’ve missed something in the past – of course I have – they leave me expectant for the future.

The particular verse that left me surprised and unsettled was Romans 2:16. Paul had been describing how a person’s own conscience will defend or accuse them on the Day of Judgment. He then located this process of defense and recrimination in time (verse 16): “This will take place on the day when God will judge men’s secrets through Jesus Christ…”

That was not what surprised me. The Bible teaches a judgment from Genesis to Revelation. We hear about it from the lips of Jesus and from the letters of Peter, Paul, the author of Hebrews, Jude, and many others. It wasn’t Paul’s description of judgment, but what he said next, that grabbed my attention. Paul wrote, “This will take place on the day when God will judge men’s secrets through Jesus Christ, as my gospel declares.”

It struck me for the first time that Paul included the Day of Judgment as an element in his gospel—his good news. I had thought – had been led to think – of the judgment as bad news. It was the bad news that people needed to hear before they were ready for the good news. But Paul saw the Judgment as good news. How could that be?

I was afraid of the Judgment. I don’t need to search far to find things that I have said, thought, and done that exposed me as a sinner—and sometimes a fool. The idea that all that will be revealed—how could anyone speak of that as good news?

Hence, the surprise and the feeling of being unsettled. There must be, I realized, more to the Judgment than I have previously understood. The fact that Paul included it in his good news means that it must either be good in itself or it must result in something good.

I came across these words from the pastor and novelist Frederick Buechner: “God will ring down the final curtain on history, and … The judge will be Christ. In other words, the one who judges us most finally will be the one who loves us most fully.”

Yes, that is good news. But did Paul have something more than that in mind when he was writing Romans? I was coming to think so.

For years, I have spent the first hours of my morning reading the Scriptures and praying, and my habit has been to read the texts from the Daily Office in the Book of Common Prayer. That kind of reading schedule takes me through the psalms repeatedly. And guess what I found there? The idea that the judgment is good news – more than that – that the judgment is great news.

In Psalm 96, the psalmist calls creation to rejoice. “Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it; let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them. Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy; they will sing before the Lord, for he comes…”

Why is this coming something to celebrate? Why should the earth be so jubilant? Because “he comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples in his truth.” Creation eagerly awaits that judgment.

There is something very similar in Psalm 98. There, the entire creation – inanimate and animate, humans and other animals, seas and mountains – sing, clap, and shout for joy because, once again, YHWH comes to judge the earth.

Judgment is seen as the occasion for setting everything right. I am sure that humans, at least, will not rejoice at the Judgment because they will be proved right, but rather because they will be put right. All that is wrong – physically, emotionally, spiritually, relationally – will be set right. Death will be destroyed. The old order of things – dominated as it has been by the Second Law of Thermodynamics with its repetitive story of failure and corruption – will pass away. Reconciliation, between God and man, man and man, God and creation, man and creation, even creation and creation will be complete.

The entire creation celebrates the coming of judgment, knowing that afterward the wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, and humans will finally take dominion over the earth. Instead of torturing it with toxins and destroying its creatures for personal gain, humans will rule it with love and faithfulness.

This fresh insight into judgment led me to a broader understanding of the gospel. It is not the good news of something I might do (accept Jesus into my heart) so that I might avoid hell and receive a ticket to heaven (as important as that is). It is the good news of something God has already done through Jesus Christ to bring a cosmic end to evil and set all things right. In Colossians 1:15-23 we find that all things were created by and for Jesus Christ, all things are sustained by him, and all things have been reconciled to God by him. All things. The scope of what God has accomplished through Jesus is breathtaking.

This isn’t just about me or even you. The gospel’s scope takes in all creation, and it includes the Judgment—the kick-off event of abundant life and everlasting joy for everyone and everything that belongs to God.

When we turn the gospel into a sales pitch to individuals rather than an announcement of what God has accomplished and will accomplish through Jesus, we give people a gospel they might accept (which is crucial) but will probably not celebrate (which is also crucial). They need to see, as Paul makes clear in Colossians, that Jesus is good news for the world – for the universe – and that the good news includes them (Colossians 1:21-23).

Perhaps we need to turn our evangelism presentations backwards, as Paul did in Colossians, and start with Jesus’s victory rather than our sinfulness (as is usually done). Then, like Paul, we need to paint a picture of universal deliverance, the reconciliation of all things in heaven and on earth. Then, after we have filled out this cosmic vision (Romans 8:18-23 is perfect for this), we can tell people that they too (Colossians 1:21-23) qualify for reconciliation. They can be renewed, restored, complete – it’s their choice. They can take part in “the renewal of all things” (Matthew 19:28, the palingenesis – creation again).  They can trust Jesus, the Savior of souls and the Restorer/Beautifier/Reconciler of all things in heaven and on earth, and confess him as Lord.

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Submission Is for the Mission

A Sermon about the S-Word (“submission”) from 1 Peter 3:1-7

When some people talk about the “biblical teaching on submission,” they leave out a great deal of what the Bible says about submission. Peter’s teaching on a wife’s submission (1 Peter 3:1-7) is often lifted out of its context, which begins in the previous chapter. This sermon helps us understand submission in its biblical context.

If you would prefer to read the text rather than watch/listen to the sermon, click here.

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