The Missio Dei Leadership Team (composed of the current pastor-elders and deacons) is excited to announce that we are formally partnering with the Jesus Collective church network. This post is written to provide a bit more background and context for this decision.

A Brief History of MDC and Affiliation
Missio Dei has never been affiliated with a denomination, but was started (in 2004) in partnership with the Acts 29 church-planting network. The planting pastor was vetted and supported through Acts 29, and was the strongest point of contact to that network. The planting pastor resigned after 16 years (August of 2020), and the Leadership of MDC decided to formally leave Acts 29 in the Spring of 2021. Some reasons for this decision were: our connection to Acts 29 had become weaker as more time passed from the church-planting stage of MDC’s life, the remaining full-time pastor (Joel) at MDC had no background or connection with Acts 29, and Acts 29 was not supportive of MDC leadership’s decision to support women preaching in the pulpit during our worship gatherings. The separation was amicable, and done in open conversation with Acts 29 leadership. MDC never intended to remain independent, but wanted to prayerfully explore other church affiliation options, whether denominations or networks. In 2021-22, the then-current Leadership Team explored formally aligning with a denomination that is active in New England (Anglican Church in North America), but after meeting with the denominational leadership, determined that the structural and liturgical changes the ACNA required for affiliation were going to be too significant and disruptive to our current culture and organization. There were no further efforts to explore affiliation options in 2023. In 2024, Joel became connected with an individual who recently moved to Portland and is active in the Jesus Collective network. In conversation with him, and after exploring the values and function of that network, Joel proposed Jesus Collective to the Leadership Team as an affiliation option. In Spring of 2025, the full Leadership Team invited Joel’s contact to a meeting, in which we discussed the history of Jesus Collective, the values and priorities of the network, and whether or not it would be a good fit for MDC. One of primary takeaways from this conversation was the “centered-set” approach of Jesus Collective was a good fit for MDC, and could even be helpful to our clarity of purpose and vision as we press forward (see below for more on “centered-set” approach). Following this conversation, Joel and one of the current elders spoke with the co-Executive director of Jesus Collective, and the elders formally recommended that MDC consider affiliation. The Leadership Team decided, in the Spring of 2025, to officially become a Jesus Collective partner church.

Why Jesus Collective?
There are 4 primary reasons we are partnering with Jesus Collective:

1. Their “centered-set” approach aligns with how we want to continue to develop our church community’s culture. Rather than focusing primarily on policing boundaries as a community (a “bounded set” approach), Jesus Collective encourages partner churches to adopt a “centered-set” posture. They exist to help churches focus on Jesus as the center of their life and practice, and this resonates with how we want to move forward in our context. (see “Centered-Set Church” by Mark Baker as a resource)
2. Jesus Collective provides a sense of identity and connection to something larger than ourselves, but will also allow MDC to continue to function with our current doctrine, culture and organization. Since our connection to Acts 29 has waned (and officially ended), we have felt the loss of connection to something broader than our own community. Through ongoing relationships and events, we believe partnership with Jesus Collective will help us continually “lift our eyes” to something larger than ourselves, and bring us back to an energizing vision. It’s also possible that those who follow Jesus Collective in our region will more likely find us as a church community. At the same time, because Jesus Collective is a network (rather than a highly-structured denomination) we can join and fully participate without changing any of our current doctrine, structure, or organization.
3. Jesus Collective will give practical support to the full-time pastor, as well as access to many more ministry resources than we currently are able to access. Jesus Collective runs monthly online “hubs” for ministry leaders, and Joel is going to be immediately involved in one with pastors of similarly-sized congregations around the country. These hubs are a source of collegial community, support, accountability and professional development. They also offer “hubs” to lay leaders, as well as maintain an active “ministry resource sharing” system online (teaching materials, curriculum for kids and youth, polity and organizational tools, etc.) all of which we are excited to take advantage of as we move forward. 
4. The risk is low, and the potential reward is high. Finally, on a very pragmatic level, the risk of partnering with Jesus Collective is low. We will be contributing 1.5% of our operating budget to them, and we are able to leave the network at any time if our leadership feels it is not a good fit. There are no complicated legal contracts or membership commitments. On the other hand, the potential for benefit is comparatively high, especially for Joel and MDC staff that will immediately be able to take advantage of the resources Jesus Collective makes available.

What Does This Mean For MDC moving forward?
There are short-term and long-term answers to this question. In the short-term, Joel is going to be the primary liaison between MDC and Jesus Collective. He is going to get immediately connected to a monthly “hub” for leaders of small-to-medium sized churches around the USA and Canada for professional development and coaching. As this connection develops, Joel will have access to more resources (potentially more “hubs”) for other leaders in the congregation. MDC will also be listed on Jesus Collective’s website as a “partner church,” and we will be invited to Jesus Collective events as they occur (though it’s helpful to clarify that we will not be required to attend to maintain our membership). Members of the LT will be able to access resources as needed through Joel’s connection. There will be no immediate changes to our leadership structure or worship gatherings.

In the long-term, we are hoping that this partnership will help us develop in healthy ways as a congregation, and especially clarify our vision and direction as a Christ-centered ministry in Portland. Something that was emphasized in our discernment process is that congregations  “get out what they put in,” in terms of partnership with Jesus Collective, so join us in praying for this partnership moving forward, that it will truly help us become a vibrant and visible, Jesus-centered community in Portland!

On the “nothing” that existed before creation along with God…
These thoughts were inspired by a great question asked by Betsy after sermon #2 in the series (on God as “Creator of all things visible and invisible”). This gets quite head-spinning, but it’s worth meditating on in a spirit of humble contemplation.

Before creation was brought into being, all that was (all that existed) was God. When Christians claim that God “created out of nothing” (Latin: ex nihilo), the “nothing” in that phrase does not mean “empty space” that God decided to “fill” with creation. No! As strange as this sounds, “empty space” is still something, and nothing truly means nothing! In other words, the entirety of what existed prior to God’s act of creation was only God’s eternal and perfect being. This adds an amazing layer of depth and profundity to the act of creation, because it means that all things are truly here only because of the gracious will of God, who brought even the space itself in which we live into being. I can’t help but think of Acts 17, and Paul’s use of the phrase “in whom we live and move and have our being” to describe God. This doctrine of creation also adds a helpful layer of clarity regarding the “boundary” between created-things and creator-God, because it drives home the point that all the “things” that did not exist before creation are not God! This also sets up the foundation for the biblical understanding of idolatry, which is when humans fall into false worship and devotion of the “things” God created, rather than worshipping the one God who existed eternally before all those “things!” Idolatry is dangerous, and has dangerous and destructive effects in creation. True worship is to be given to God, the Creator, and God alone.

Is “Adonai” plural or singular? Should it be “Lords” or “Lord”?
This is to add some clarity to my discussion of the language the Bible uses, particularly the Hebrew language of the Old Testament. If you don’t care about technical language details, please feel free to skip this paragraph! But I spoke (in sermon #3) about how the sacred name of God (YHWH) could be written in the text, but not spoken out loud, and the Hebrew word “Adonai” was an appropriate "substitute" for it. It was mentioned in discussion that the term is plural (which can mean “Lords”) and that “adon” is the singular form. Technically, this is true, but there’s another very-technical layer here to clarify, which is that there’s a difference between the “syntactical plural” and the “respectful/honorific plural.” The “syntactical plural” is the form that we use in mundane words to indicate multiples, but the “honorific plural” is what is used for important or exalted titles (think in English of the “royal we”). The context of the word “Adonai” in most Old Testament uses is an honorific plural. To drive this point further, it is also frequently linked directly to singular-form verbs in the same passage. All that to say, the term “Adonai” is an honorific plural, but is rightly rendered in English as simply “Lord” or “the Lord.” The text is not calling God “Lords.” Commonly, in the Old Testament, when a human character is given the title “Lord,” like King David, a slightly-different form is used: “adoneinu.”

On the use of the title “Lord” for humans in the Old Testament
I didn’t have time to respond to Vic’s comments near the end of the gathering, and wanted to offer some clarity here, for those interested. Vic pointed out that the term “Lord” is applied to human characters in the Old Testament, which is absolutely true (see 1 Samuel 16:16 for an example, in which King Saul is called “our lord.”), though a broad thrust of my sermon was to argue that the term “Lord,” in a holistic biblical sense, is rightfully reserved for “the One Lord Jesus Christ.” So, how do we make sense of this tension between human “lords” in the bible, and the One Lord Jesus Christ? This is where I believe I could have been more precise in my presentation in the sermon. When I used the term “biblical” to argue for ascribing the title “Lord” only to Jesus Christ, I did not mean that the bible never refers to humans as “lords,” nor even that it was inappropriate for that to happen. The term “lord” (Greek “kyrios”) was a common designation of status and authority, and Jesus himself had characters in his parables call other humans “kyrios,” when appropriate (see Matthew 13:27 for an example). The broader point I was trying to make is that there’s a trajectory in the full scriptural story towards recognizing that Jesus is the ultimate “Lord of all lords.” We can (and should) give due respect to earthly authority figures, but should never confuse that with the ultimate authority and respect due to God the Son. Jesus himself said, “no one can serve two kyrios.” (Matthew 6.24) This is what I was driving at yesterday, that the salvific power and authority we put all our hope and trust in can only belong to one Lord. This is repeatedly expressed in Paul’s writings, perhaps most clearly in 1 Corinthians 8:6, in which he writes “for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord (kyrios) Jesus Christ, through whom all things came, and through whom we live.”

To the MDC Community,

I wanted to write this post to extend an invitation for a corporate practice during Lent this year, as well as offer some of the heart and vision behind this invitation.

First, the invitation itself is for us, as a community, to consider practicing “phone-free” corporate worship through Lent this year (which begins on March 9th). Practically, this would mean leaving your phone/devices at home or in your vehicle during our Sunday morning gatherings. We will also have a basket/receptacle in the back of the room for those who would like to leave phones there during the gathering, and we have purchased extra Bibles, which will be available for folks to use in place of reading scripture on their phones.

Before explaining some of the reasons behind the idea, I want to emphasize first that this is not a “rule” or “policy” that we are going to enforce in any way! We are not going to call out, shame or pressure anyone to participate, and we recognize there may be some who, for personal or professional reasons, are not in a position to be able to set aside their phones. Whatever the case, my hope is for all of us to view this as an invitation to engage in a 6-week practice in community, in the spirit of “fasting” for Lent.

Fasting, like any practice or discipline, can certainly become a superficial, empty ritual. Ideally, though, fasting creates space to engage with God, as the experience of intentionally removing something from our lives can repeatedly remind us to turn the energy and attention we normally give to that “thing” back to God instead.

I suspect I am not alone in this, but I can definitely think of times in our Sunday gatherings in which texts or notifications from my device have disrupted my ability to be present to God and others. Even with the best of intentions, I might grab my phone to look up a scripture passage and my eyes are drawn to an email, or a weather alert, or a text that I’ve been expecting, and suddenly my mind and heart are elsewhere. So my hope is that this Lenten practice might increase our focus on God, our ability to hear more clearly from God, as well as our ability to be deeply present to each other in our gatherings. We may also find that it creates a weekly experience that is quite different (set apart) from the rest of our culture, which is increasingly bound up in social media, notifications, alerts, and the resulting frantic anxiety and hectic pace. This would not be a bad thing.

However this initially strikes you, I invite you to prayerfully consider this! And if this invitation stirs up questions, reactions or concerns, please do not hesitate to reach out to the leadership. The elders and deacons have discussed this invitation at length, and are available to process reactions.

I received a great question in response to the sermon from January 26th. The questioner asked about the role of 'anger' in the life of a Christian. Is it possible for anger to be healthy? Or is Jesus calling for Christians to avoid all anger? Is that even possible?

This is actually something that, after the sermon finished, I continued to wrestle with, because I believe I could have been a bit clearer. I believe that experiencing a wide range of human emotions is simply inevitable in our lives, and that it is not "sinful" to experience emotions that we tend to consider "bad" or negative (like anger, fear or sadness). In other words, the experience of anger, in itself, is not by-definition "sinful," but (and this is an important "but!") what we do with that experience of anger is what can potentially lead towards sin, or towards redemption and righteousness. Biblically, there are many places that the prophets and the Psalmist certainly sound pretty angry! But in both cases, I believe they are "channeling" that anger in the correct and healthy direction: towards God! Honest prayer is the appropriate and healthy venue for our felt anger, or sadness, or fear, or whatever we may be experiencing.

So how does this relate to the Sermon on the Mount, and especially Jesus' sharp warning that "whoever is angry with a brother or sister is liable to judgment"? Well, given the context of the warning, and all the ways in which Jesus frames the anger he is talking about as relational and divisive, I firmly believe he is speaking about the ways in which people can take experiences of anger and channel them towards broken relationships, grudges, and withholding forgiveness. These are the signs to look out for, and this is what Jesus is warning against, especially as it creates division and rupture within the people of God. This is why he ends with the very-practical admonition to "reconcile" with a brother or sister before taking a gift to the altar. It's about interpersonal repair.

So, in summary, I do not want to communicate the idea that every possible experience of anger is by-definition "liable to judgment." By no means! On the other hand, these experiences of anger are the sensitive places that can very-easily lead towards division and broken relationships, and should be treated with the utmost prayer and care! My prayer is that we would be a community that takes these warnings seriously, and models reconciliation and repair rather than harboring bitterness and resentment on interpersonal lines.

As many (if not all) of you are probably aware, the nation was shocked by what appeared to be (and was soon confirmed as) an attempted assassination of Donald Trump at a political rally in Pennsylvania last Saturday (July 13th). I've had conversations with a few of you about it, especially in light of the recently concluded "Gospel Politics" sermon series, and so I wanted to offer just a few reflections here.

First, once I recovered from my initial shock, and had some time to process the enormity of what occurred, I experienced profound relief that Donald Trump was not killed or more seriously injured. Whatever one's personal opinions of Trump as an individual, or one's political persuasion, my sense is that it's impossible to grasp how close our country was to a real crisis. I've prayed heartfelt prayers of gratitude that we were collectively spared from this, and I encourage you to pray the same.

Second, in addition to prayers of gratitude, I've also felt waves of lament. Lament for the fact that our political culture (and culture in general) is so bitterly divided. Lament for the endemic violence in humanity. Lament for the individual who actually was shot and killed, a person who was simply attending a political event and now has left behind a grieving family. Lament for other nations that are plagued by political violence in ways that Americans are largely insulated from. In short, I suppose, lament in response to all the reminders of our sin-tainted world.

Third and last, and in light of the recent sermon series, this has been yet another reminder for me of where to anchor my hope and faith. Because even though we were spared a national crisis last weekend, there is no guarantee of what the days ahead of us will hold. Do not place your hope in our political system to keep us safe and secure. Our eternal security is guaranteed, whatever does (or does not) unfold in America. That said, it is absolutely appropriate to pray for our political system, and our political leaders, and I have been provoked to do just that after these events. I encourage and invite you to join me in praying for our political leaders, most especially Biden and Trump and those in their immediate circle of influence. My prayer is that our leaders on both sides of the political aisle would recognize the impact of their rhetoric, would endeavor to heal the divides in our nation, and that our systems would successfully protect us from violence in the days ahead.

But, and this is important, however God responds to these prayers, our inheritance is secure (see 1 Peter), our lives are hidden with Christ (see Colossians), and his Kingdom is eternal.

Psalm 146 is always a comfort to me in these times:
Praise the Lord.
Praise the Lord, my soul.
2 I will praise the Lord all my life;
    I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.
3 Do not put your trust in princes,
    in human beings, who cannot save.
4 When their spirit departs, they return to the ground;
    on that very day their plans come to nothing.
5 Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
    whose hope is in the Lord their God.
6 He is the Maker of heaven and earth,
    the sea, and everything in them—
    he remains faithful forever.
7 He upholds the cause of the oppressed
    and gives food to the hungry.
The Lord sets prisoners free,
8     the Lord gives sight to the blind,
the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down,
    the Lord loves the righteous.
9 The Lord watches over the foreigner
    and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
    but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.
10 The Lord reigns forever,
    your God, O Zion, for all generations.
Praise the Lord.

Series Title: Now Choose Life!
Deuteronomy and Life with God in Uncharted Territory

I'm excited to let everyone know that we will be spending some time this Summer and Fall in Deuteronomy, the final book of the Pentateuch (or, the first five books of the Old Testament). In the biblical narrative, Deuteronomy captures a critical juncture in the life of God's people. They have fled Egypt, received the Law, and are now on the edge of the land that God promised to give them. Their great spiritual leader (Moses) delivers his final words, words that point to the many temptations they are going to face as they enter the land, particularly the temptation to veer away from loving obedience to God. Moses' grand sermon includes instruction, warning, encouragement and hope for Israel, that as they take on the life of a nation in the land, they would ultimately "choose life" (see Deuteronomy chapter 30), and resist the ever-present temptation to choose the way of death, away from communion with God. So, so much wisdom and instruction from Deuteronomy forms a foundation and background to New Testament writing (Jesus and Paul both quote from Deuteronomy frequently!), and so I'm really looking forward to spending time in this ancient book together, to see how God will convict and move us to similarly "choose life" today.

Two questions were submitted in response to the sermons on Acts 19 and Ephesians 3.

Why is there a temple to Artemis in Ephesus when it's a Roman city now? Shouldn't it be a temple to Diana?

I absolutely love the history behind these questions, so I'll ask you to indulge me here (if you aren't interested in this kind of history, feel free to scroll to the second question!). There is a significant amount of cultural overlap between Greece and Rome, even though they were technically different empires, who ruled at different times through different governments and leaders. An extremely short summary of a very-complicated history is that Alexander the Great (who was Greek, from the kingdom of Macedonia) rose to power in the 300s BC, consolidated many people-groups into one Greek empire and led a profoundly successful military conquest around a major swath of the ancient world. (Just google "Alexander the Great's conquests" for a ton of maps that display how much of the ancient world he took over. It's impressive!) Part of Alexander's ambition was to spread and enforce Greek culture throughout the world (he was tutored by Aristotle, and seemed to genuinely believe Greek culture - philosophy, values, sport, language, religion, etc. - was the pinnacle of human culture) and so the cities he took over were basically forced to become "Greek." Ephesus was one of the cities within Alexander's empire, and thus became a Greek city, and this is how the temple became associated with Artemis, a Greek god. More broadly, this is also how Greek became a common language throughout much of the ancient world. Alexander lived a very short life, though, and upon his death, his empire essentially fractured and eventually crumbled. In its wake, the Roman empire grew to prominence.

The Roman empire took over much of the same area of the world that Alexander had previously consolidated under his reign. Rome was more interested in ruling and maintaining a large empire than in enforcing Roman culture upon cities (as compared to Alexander), and so they were largely pleased to keep Greek as the common language, though Romans primary language was Latin. They also essentially "copied" the Greek religion and cosmology, and just gave the same deities Latin/Roman names. Zeus was Jupiter, Hermes was Mercury, and Artemis was Diana. So, yes, the temple to Artemis was known in more strict-Roman circles as the "temple to Diana," because of its strong cultural prominence and pre-Roman history, it continued to be popularly known as the "temple to Artemis," even under Roman rule. And the Romans were OK with this, as long as Ephesus paid their taxes and restrained themselves from revolt.

I know that's a long answer to a short question, but aside from finding the history interesting, I also am passionate about helping people grasp the Greco-Roman cultural backdrop to the New Testament. Beyond historical trivia, I find that the New Testament writings "come alive" with a deeper understanding of the history of that region of the world. The confidence of Paul and the early Jesus-followers, to continue to proclaim faithfulness to Jesus as King and Lord in the face of these massive earthly empires, is inspiring!

Are the "rulers and authorities in the heavenly places" referenced in Ephesians 3 the same as the "rulers and authorities" in the armor of God passage?

This is an insightful question, and is referring to Ephesians 6.12: The warfare we’re engaged in, you see, isn’t against flesh and blood. It’s against the leaders, against the authorities, against the powers that rule the world in this dark age, against the wicked spiritual elements in the heavenly places. The Greek words are indeed the same (rulers = arche, authorities = exousia, heavenly places = epouranios), and given that this is all within the same letter, to the same community, originally meant to be read aloud in one sitting, it is virtually certain that Paul was referring to the same cosmological ideas. While my focus on Sunday (the 16th) was on our role as "witnessing" to these authorities, Paul adds another layer to our role as the church in chapter 6, in which we are called to "wage warfare" against these same authorities. It would take an entire sermon (or series of sermons) to explore what exactly this "warfare" means, and how we are to engage in it, but it does underline one point I was trying to emphasize last Sunday: that scripture consistently attests to the spiritual realm as a REAL place. The material world we can see and measure is not the sum total of the reality in which we find ourselves! The church has a real purpose in our world, right now, to witness against the authorities in the spiritual realm, and it's telling that the armor Paul exhorts us to use in this struggle includes: truth, justice, good news of peace, faith, salvation and spirit.

Understanding that we are citizens of the Kingdom of God, when is it appropriate for followers of Jesus to speak out about current political affairs? For example, the prophets often spoke out against corrupt regimes and injustices of their time. Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King have done the same in recent times.

This question shines a bright light on what I see as the central tension of Christian political witness and political theology! I certainly can't resolve it in one blog post, but I can articulate what I see as some key questions, as well as a few principles that I regularly come back to. First, some questions: How does "respecting and submitting to governing authorities" interact with our fundamental respect and obedience towards God? When is it incumbent upon those of us who are "living witnesses" to Christ's authority to speak out against immorality and injustice in the political order? How can one be confident enough in one's political convictions to speak on behalf of God in the public square? The questioner rightly notes that there are powerful examples of those who have done this well in Christian history, both recent (Bonhoeffer) and ancient (the Hebrew prophets), but there are also historic examples of poor and dangerous political activism cloaked in the language of Christianity (one example that immediately comes to mind is the explicitly political effort by American pastors and Christian politicians in the Civil War era to keep chattel slavery legal, or political leaders in South Africa who argued for God's ordination of apartheid). So the road is fraught, and I think that's probably the first principle to keep in mind, as it should keep the aspiring political activist humble!

Another principle that comes to mind is the importance of communal discernment. To take the two examples from the question: both MLK and Bonhoeffer engaged in their political activism in the context of friends and peers who spoke directly into their key decisions. Neither was a lone wolf! The Holy Spirit lives in God's people (plural!) and frequently speaks discernment and wisdom through relationships, and so I contend that the aspiring Christian political activist must always discern their own activism within the context of God's people. But at the end of the day, I do believe it is possible to witness to the "powers that be," and so provoke good, moral change in systems and policies that more closely reflect the goodness and justice of God's Kingdom (even while we know that God's Kingdom will only ever be fully ushered in by Christ himself). I believe historical examples like William Wilberforce or Desmond Tutu model this, and when approached in humble conviction, within the context of a discerning and praying Jesus-worshipping community, Christian political activism can have a profound effect in our world today.

What does Paul mean by "you are my crown"? The closest we have to this in our culture is "my kids are my crowning achievement".

This question references Philippians 4.1, in which Paul calls the Philippians community his "joy and crown." My strong hunch is that the "crown" he is referring to is the "victory wreath-crown" that a runner would win in a race (consider the amount of race/athletic imagery Paul uses throughout the earlier chapter, and this makes the most immediate sense), so I think Paul is indicating to the Philippians that, somehow, their steadfastness and loyalty to Christ in their city are bound up in Paul's "prize" for running his own race. His purpose and mission was not merely to start their community, but is to continue to see them through! I think it's really interesting that the questioner connected this to our cultural language of "crowning achievement," and I can see some connection there. It can be common for parents to see their own sense of worth or victory in how their kids turn out - of course, this can get extremely unhealthy, but I think there's a healthy, mature way that a good parent maintains investment in the well-being of their kids without it slipping into idolatry or excessive pressure. And in that sense, I think we can fairly say that Paul has a "parental" attitude and hope towards the Philippians here. He is rooting for them! Their ongoing faith matters deeply to him, and he is committed to encouraging them along the journey.

Is there anything in the Greek that also implied sexual exploitation of the slave girl in addition to economic and spiritual? I can't help but think of how the Oracle at Delphi was often treated.

This is referencing the oracle slave-girl that Paul encounters in Philippi in Acts 16. This question is very reasonable, considering how slaves were typically treated in the Greco-Roman world (and throughout human history, for that matter), but the technical answer is that the Greek word itself does not explicitly imply sexual exploitation one way or another. The word (Gk. paidiske) is a general term for a female slave. It's also the same word that the Gospels use to describe the slave girl that confronts Peter at the charcoal fire (where he denies knowing Christ). So while the broader cultural context cannot rule out the possibility of this kind of exploitation, the language itself doesn't indicate with finality one way or another.

If Pilate finds no guilt in Jesus, why does he have him flogged?

There is no direct explanation for Pilate's motives for having Jesus flogged in John 19, so any explanation is speculative. That said, as the text tells us explicitly that Pilate didn't think Jesus deserved to be executed for treason against Rome, it is plausible to me that he was attempting to placate or appease the Jewish leaders by having Jesus publicly beaten. It's possible he was hoping to punish Jesus "enough" that they would let go of their desire to have him killed, and that the whole issue would blow over. This would also make some sense of Pilate's decision to dress him in a "robe" and "crown" and publicly display him before those demanding crucifixion, even though they never asked him to do that. As I mentioned, this is a speculation based on what we do know from the text, but I think it is very plausible.

Why does God give authority to those who he knows will abuse it? Even looking back to Jeroboam King of Israel, who was given authority, then immediately made idols that led people away from God. (see 1 Kings 12) God's justice against him then raised up other people who also abused their authority (and so on, and so on....).

This question gets right at a core issue in all political theology, which is the tension between God's sovereignty, God's knowledge of the ongoing sinfulness of humanity, and God's decision to continue to give humans real authority and stewardship in creation. And this isn't to deflect the question, but I would say it ultimately works back to an even deeper issue in all theological reflection, which is: why does God allow sin and evil at all? In other words, this question could be re-framed as: "Why did God give Adam and Eve the choice to eat of the tree of knowledge, if he knew they would do just that, and all these terrible things would flow out of it?" The example of Jeroboam, who was indeed one of the many, many wicked kings in Israel's history, is a microcosm of the bigger question of sinful humans acting sinfully, and God nevertheless allowing those sinful humans to have an impact in creation, which is all downstream (as Christians believe) of the rebellious act in the Garden of Eden.

While I certainly can't provide a neat-and-tidy explanation that resolves these deep tensions, I can offer a few reflections that help me wrestle with this stuff. First, I believe the Bible presents the overarching reality that God desires to share in the rule of creation with humanity. Among other things, this means that God desires for humanity to take ownership of our authority in creation (to "rule," "subdue," "have dominion" in the language of Genesis). Second, the incursion of sin, evil and death into that creation has tainted the authority God desires for us to share, and in certain times and certain places, that distorting effect is pronounced in horrific ways (the twentieth century is littered with terrible atrocities that humans inflicted on each other and creation itself, examples of our God-given authority gone awry). Third, even though we will never fully cure ourselves of our sin, Jesus is God-come-to-us right in the middle of our mess. Jesus provides hope for our world, and provides us a way to live now, and a promise to come again to set everything right (and part of that, by the way, includes holding all those earthly leaders to account for the ways they misused their authority). One day, I believe, we will exercise our authority and dominion that God always intended for us to have, but we will do so in ways that are uncorrupted by sin, in the new heavens and the new earth! And all of the suffering we experience now, even at the hands of unjust rulers, will be wiped away.

There are many Christians in our culture who, in practice, have "no king but Caesar". Is it our responsibility to call them out so that people don't follow them unknowingly? Or is doing so too divisive to the body of Christ?

Wow, I love this question, and it's really hard to answer! The reason it's hard to answer is because it's really a question about when it's appropriate to confront brothers and sisters in the faith, how to discern when to speak, when to listen, how to do so maturely and lovingly, and especially how to do so without unnecessarily dividing the church (in this case, the question is pointing to politics as a source of confrontation, but it can really apply to all areas of life). Ultimately, finding answers to these questions relies on prayer, discernment, and especially wisdom. I will offer just a few thoughts that I hope are helpful....

First, and I can't really emphasize this enough, I think it's crucially important to limit our actions of "calling others out" to in-person venues and within the context of real relationships. In other words, NOT on the internet or social media! It's all-too-easy to fall prey to the temptation to get into online arguments, and I don't think that's ever fruitful. Second, I do pick up on a shepherding concern within this question, connected to the desire to keep people from being pulled astray by overly-politicized Christian voices. While I resonate very much with that concern (I am sorely grieved by those I know who have gotten pulled into politics as an unhealthy source of identity and purpose), I always come back to the question of relationship - am I actually in-relationship with (and do I have any actual influence or credibility with) the people I'm feeling an urge to confront? If I don't have any meaningful connection, then why do I feel this desire to "call them out?" (Typically, it has something to do with the internet, or maybe a news-media source, in which case, see point #1 right above!) But, on the other hand, if I DO have a meaningful connection with this person (or people) and I continue to feel a burden to confront them about their language or rhetoric or influence on others, then it's possible a confrontation is indeed necessary, and maybe something God is calling me towards. In this case, there are biblical examples and principles for how to do this well (notably Matthew 18, but also see Galatians 2 for Paul's reflections on his confrontation with Peter). I believe it's very possible to confront a person you are in genuine relationship with, and to do so with conviction and love and mercy, in a way that does not result in division in the body of Christ, but this is not easy! And it certainly will not involve shaming or harsh rhetoric. If anything, it will involve honest curiosity ("How did you arrive at your political opinions? Tell me why this is so important to you."), vulnerable confession ("Can I honestly tell you why it is hard for me to see you say these things, about my own past with political ideas and how I've been hurt? Can I tell you about my concerns about how you are influencing other people?") and humility ("I could very, very possibly be wrong about what I think!").

In my experience, it is possible to have good, healthy confrontation within the body of Christ that does NOT necessarily result in division, but it is hard work! And in our time, politics is especially fraught, though it can also be the source of deep, redemptive growth, since it is such a cultural lightning rod. My hope and prayer is that we can be a community that models all these things well! I believe that would be a profound counter-witness to the rest of our surrounding culture, that is so bitterly divided and sees no hope for change.

Thank you for the great questions!!

In Verse 36, who are the “servants” (or “supporters”) that Jesus is referring to here?

John 18:36 is part of Jesus' response to Pilate, in which he says, "“If my kingdom were from this world, my supporters (Greek - hyperetes) would have fought, to stop me being handed over to the Judaeans." Many English translations also read "servants." The most straightforward understanding, and the most likely, is that he is talking about his close disciples who were near him in the garden when he was arrested. This isn't the most common word in the New Testament, however, and I don't know if this is behind the question or not, but it does seem strange for Jesus to refer to the disciples as "servants," when elsewhere in John's Gospel he insists on calling them "friends." (see especially John 15) To my mind, there is an interesting possibility here that Jesus is using language Pilate expects him to use, as Pilate is trying to ferret out whether or not Jesus thinks of himself as a King. If you read this dialogue with a certain tone in mind, you can imagine Jesus knowingly using this label to intentionally contrast his Kingdom with the Kingdom Pilate is expecting, thereby increasing the contrast between what most would expect (that he would send "servants" to fight and defend him) and what is actually, deeply true (that they are "friends" who are actually going to offer their very lives in self-giving love, just like their King).

What translation did you use for today?

Ah, an easy question! While I try to read/study 3-4 different English versions each week when I prepare a sermon, the specific translation I've been putting on the screen for this series is known as both the "Kingdom New Testament" or (as it is titled on on BibleGateway.com) the "New Testament for Everyone." This is the translation by New Testament scholar N.T. Wright, and I chose it for this series because of the specific ways it uses "Kingdom" language.

How do reconcile Jesus saying "my kingdom is not of this world" with people (American or otherwise) trying to establish their country as a Christian nation? Is pursuing a Christendom on earth our moral obligation? Or a misreading of Scripture?

OK, this question is a whopper! I'm definitely not going to be able to resolve it here, and in many ways it gets right at the beating heart of all political theology. These are questions that I'm actively working through myself! Allow me to offer just a few reflections and questions in response....

Frequently, the phrase "Christian nation" frequently gets thrown around without specificity, but what does this actually mean? That everyone in the nation would be "required" to identify as Christian? Or just the rulers? And how would any of that be enforced? Through policy? Or through "culture?" These questions are not easy to answer, let alone reconcile with what Jesus says in John 18.

In our current moment, the right wing of American politics is associated most closely with the rhetoric of creating a "Christian Nation," but there have been historical phases in which it was the "progressive" wing that explicitly worked to "Christianize" the country (see especially the early 1900s when the "Social Gospel" was gaining traction, and movements like Prohibition and Child Labor and Prison Reform were all an outgrowth of Christian Progressive politics), so this whole idea is not restricted to our simple binary of "right" or "left." I only say this here to caution against any simplistic reactions that are driven by the limitations of how politics function in our day. The bigger question at hand is if any of this is in violation of what Christ said in John 18.

Personally, I have a hard time drawing a strict or formulaic approach here. On the one hand, the prospect of a nation following Christian ethics more closely, implementing social policies that align with Christian ideas, and supporting a broadly-Christian culture is a good thing! I certainly wouldn't want to stand in the way of that. On the other hand, the path to shape policies and culture on a national level inevitably gets entangled with political power, difficult ethical compromises, and questions of the use of violence and force in the enforcement of said political agendas. The ever-present and inescapable reality of sin, evil and death complicates and frequently derails the attempt to establish any Christian state in our world, and we should never forget that, ultimately, the Kingdom is only fully ushered in by the work of God, and not of man! At the end of the day, I try to come back to the work and calling Jesus has given the church, which can actually be quite simple: to "seek first" the Kingdom of God, to serve others, to love God and love neighbor; and the reminder that we are called to do all of this in the knowledge that we will never fully overthrow sin and evil ourselves, but are waiting for Christ to come again and usher in the new heavens and the new earth. In the meantime, for those who feel called to work in explicitly political channels, the task is to prayerfully discern, in the context of Christian community, how to live out that calling, whether through political office or some other means.

I've barely scratched the surface here! These are the exact kinds of questions I was hoping this sermon series would stir up, and I would love it if we could create some spaces to discern these matters together. Please reach out if more conversation would be helpful to you!

3 great questions were submitted in response to my sermon from April 21st, on Mark 12 and 'Render Unto Caesar.'

Is there only 1 Caesar or do we each have our own Caesar?

It can be a bit tricky to answer questions like this, as I may be misunderstanding the premise, but here is my best attempt! It seems to me that this question is getting at the difficulty of "applying" Jesus' teachings to our lives today, when our context is quite different from the context in which he spoke. In this case, Jesus was obviously referring to a single, historical figure known as "Caesar" in his time, but we don't live with a "Caesar" today, so how does this impact us? Is the American President our "Caesar"? Or, since we don't have a single "Caesar," is it  appropriate to individualize the teaching, so that we each have a sort of "Caesar-figure" in our lives that symbolically represents what Jesus was talking about in Mark 12? My inclination is that Jesus' use of the term "Caesar" here can be broadly understood as "the state" or "the governing authority over you." Yes, human governments look radically different over time, and in different parts of the globe. The Roman empire famously ended, some Christians today live in totalitarian autocracies that are even more oppressive than the Roman Empire was, while Americans live in a generally non-oppressive democratic-republic that is extremely pluralistic. But the common thread is that all humans in all places live under some sort of governing authority, and so when Jesus says "Give back to Caesar what is Caesar's...." I believe he is calling all who follow his teachings to prayerfully discern what the governing authorities over you are demanding, how to rightly "give back" those things to them WHILE never forgetting to "give to God what is God's," namely, yourself! All that to say, I suppose I would lean away from jumping to an overly-individualized interpretation that looks for individual "Caesars" in all our lives, as I think an important outworking of this teaching is for the Christian community to work out TOGETHER what it means to "render unto Caesar" in our time and place, and under the governing authority that we all live under with each other.

Did the pharisees believe what they said when the said Jesus "spoke the word of God, truly"?

This question is referring to Mark 12.14, in which the Pharisees and Herodians set up the "trap" for Jesus by first using flattering language. With the important caveat that we can never peer into the hearts of individuals (there may indeed have been some Pharisees in the group who really did have positive opinions of Jesus!), it seems quite clear from the way the text tells the story that there was no sincerity in their language. The next verse (15) uses the word "hypokrisis" (where we get the English 'hypocrisy') to describe their approach to Christ, so I think Mark is making it pretty clear that, at least as a rhetorical device, those who were confronting Jesus in this moment were merely trying to delegitimize him before the crowd for their own ends, and therefore this was all empty flattery. Again, that's not to say that individuals in the group may have come to a trusting view of Christ (this seems to be how Nicodemus, for example is portrayed in John's gospel), but the text of Mark 12 doesn't seem to be making that point. This particular moment is full of hypocrisy and empty compliments.

When we give to Caesar what is Caesars and to God what is His, how do we best do that, what are some ways to best give ourselves to the lord?

This is a wonderful, pastoral question, and gets right to the heart of the teaching, in my opinion. On some level, "giving yourself to the Lord" is going to look different for each person, based on so many factors like stage of life, the way God has created you, etc....but one encouragement I would offer, especially if this question is resonating with you, is to start by considering what towards what your time, your energy, your finances, and your affections are devoted right now. Simple (but convicting!) questions like, "what do I spend most of my money on? What do I spend most of my free time doing?" and "What do I find stirs up my emotions the most?" can all be extremely helpful indicators. One personal example (which is a bit embarrassing!) is that I have found myself in certain phases of my life spending inordinate amounts of time surfing around Amazon, wasting hours looking at things I would like to buy. This is a drain on my energy and affections! In other phases, I've caught myself spending way too much time scrolling through social media, looking for outrageous stories that would fire up my emotions in unhealthy ways. Noticing this opens up an opportunity for God to reveal something to you, and to even begin to redirect those affections and impulses towards him, which would look like time in prayer, or a quiet walk devoted to listening to what God is doing in your life, or reading a Psalm, or calling a friend and asking if you can pray for them, or about a hundred other possibilities! The only other practical note I would offer is to say that these things can best be worked out in the context of trusted community. You don't need to feel like you have to figure this all out alone!

Ultimately, an important aspect of Christ's teaching here is to recognize that is IS possible to "give back to God what is God's!" And that giving back to Caesar what is Caesar's will actually open up more space in your life for deeper, holistic devotion to God.

One question was submitted in response to my sermon from Matthew 4.1-12, and it's a great question:

Why is it important that Jesus' temptations are genuine?

I emphasized a few times during the message that I believe these three temptations from the Accuser were genuine temptations for Christ. In other words, I believe Jesus felt, on some level, the allure they held. I don't think he simply shrugged them off as if they meant nothing, and this question is rightfully drilling into that point a bit. Why is it important to understand them this way?

Well, this question (like most good questions!) immediately pulls on deeper theological threads, and in this case we get pretty quickly back to the mystery of the incarnation. God became fully human in Jesus. One ancient creed declares he was "fully God, fully man," and the theology of the incarnation resists being pushed too far to one side. He wasn't "God pretending to be human," nor was he "a great human who later was considered to be God." He was fully God AND fully human. And this is important because one of the great wonders of Jesus is that he fully took on humanity, a condition seemingly inescapably stricken with sinfulness, and yet he did not sin. If he just "pretended" to take on humanity, then it wouldn't really mean he successfully resisted our curse of sinfulness, and ultimately, it wouldn't mean the curse of sinfulness was broken by him. In light of this understanding of Christ's incarnation, I believe that when scripture straightforwardly says he was "tempted," then I believe he really was tempted! But the more-important truth is that he did not give in! He never sinned, and this, to my mind, makes the fact that the temptation was genuine even more powerful. Hebrews 4 famously puts it thus, 15 For we don’t have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way just as we are, yet without sin.

I believe we see more evidence for this when, later in his ministry, Peter confronted Jesus by saying that, surely, he didn't really need to go to the cross, to which Jesus replies forcefully, "Get behind me, Satan!" Or, when Christ prayed in Gethsemane, "Father, if there is ANY other way..." Jesus, being fully human, really experienced the pain and temptation of these moments to forsake the Father's path for him. But, fully God, he never once gave into those temptations. He walked faithfully and perfectly sinlessly towards the cross, and out of the empty tomb on the other side of death. Praise the Lord!

It's no secret that 2024 is an election year in America, and by all accounts, likely to be one of the most bitter and divisive elections in recent memory. How should Christians navigate living through this? What might it look like for Christians to pursue peace, maintain unity and publicly witness to Jesus as Lord, while thinking through political questions and pressures without giving into political idolatry? These are big and pressing questions, and as I've prayed and wrestled with what to preach through after Easter, these are the questions that have been at the front of my mind.

As I considered these questions, I found myself repeatedly drawn back to the New Testament's language of Jesus as the world's true King. The notion of primary allegiance to King Jesus is a powerful starting point for responding to these questions and our current political-cultural pressures. I explored this theme throughout the New Testament, and found a striking pattern: that Jesus' followers are called to a primary and superseding allegiance to Christ even while they endeavor to live as "good citizens" within earthly kingdoms (political systems). This pattern is demonstrated as the Gospels proclaim Jesus' true Kingship, as the early church builds communities that practice this faithful allegiance around the Greco-Roman world (a faithful allegiance that, as we will see, occasionally upsets the political order around them!), as Paul writes letters (epistles) to these communities that exhort them to hold to their allegiance even while "submitting" to the governing authorities they live under, and finally culminating in the powerful vision of Revelation that declares the ultimate end of all human-earthly politics when God's Kingdom arrives in its fullness.

This is all why we are going to go through a 12-week sermon series entitled "Gospel Politics," through which we will be exploring together the New Testament's case that Jesus is the true King of the heavens and earth. The goal is not to steer anyone towards specific political conclusions (left or right), who to vote for this year, or even whether or not to vote at all, but rather to collectively “lift our eyes” to the God who rules this world and has launched an alternative Kingdom that transcends all cultural, social, political divisions. Specific political issues may be named over the course of the sermon series, but no sermon will be geared towards any particular issue. Each sermon will be rooted firmly in a New Testament text (see below for the overview of the text selections).

Ultimately, my hope and prayer is that we, as a community, would be called to an even-deeper loyalty and love towards our Good King, that we would be equipped to be non-anxious about the upcoming political cycle in 2024. You are invited to join us for this timely exploration, and to practice faithful allegiance to our true King together!

Outline:

1. The Birth of the World’s True King - Matthew 2:1-12
2. The Temptation of the King - Matthew 4.1-11
3. "Render Unto Caesar" - Mark 12.13-17
4. "My Kingdom is not From this World" - John 18.28-40
5. The Cross and the Throne - John 19.1-22
6. The King Takes His Seat (The Ascension) - Acts 1.1-11
7. “Promoting Unlawful Customs” (the clash at Philippi) - Acts 16.16-38
8. Live Out Your Citizenship - Philippians 3.12-21
9. “Turning the World Upside Down” (the clash at Thessalonica) - Acts 17.1-9
10. The Return of the King - 1 Thessalonians 4.13-5.11
11. Subversive Submission - Romans 12.9-13.7
12. The End of Empire - Revelation 18

I can remember sitting with a friend, years ago, in a restaurant. On the screens surrounding us was a televised political debate (I honestly can’t remember who was even in it at the time) - but I do remember one moment in which I looked at my friend (who wasn’t a Christian) and said, “I can’t imagine a single one of those politicians climbing up on a cross for me.” The reason this came to mind for me this week is because studying this parable has caused me to reflect on the nature of authority and power in our culture, as well as approval and, especially rejection. I don't think it's unfair to say that every person on that TV screen was looking for approval from the crowd, and furthermore looking to leverage that approval to shore up their own power, their own influence in our culture. And I believe that the reason the image of the cross popped into my head at that moment was because it symbolized something so diametrically opposed to what was happening on that screen: namely, the approval of people as compared to rejection by people, the honor of fame, title and power as compared to the dishonor of accusation and shame. And in that moment, I experienced just a glimpse of clarity: the paradoxical beauty of rejection and how repulsive the obsession for worldly power and authority can be. This sermon is ultimately a reminder that Jesus, despite the power within his grasp, chose and experienced rejection, but more than that, this rejection not merely a virtuous choice on the part of a religious teacher, but was a vital part of God's plan for rescuing and redeeming a world bent around approval.

So this message is the final parable in our series looking at the parables in Luke’s gospel, and this one comes immediately after two important events that set the context for the parable itself: first, Jesus’ “triumphal entry” into Jerusalem, in which he rode a donkey and was praised by the crowds singing “Hosanna!” Second, right after this provocative entry into the capital city, according to Luke, he even-more provocatively entered the temple and “cleansed” it by sending out the moneychangers; Luke explicitly tells us that at this point the “chief priests, scribes and leaders” were “looking for a way to kill him.” After this, these figures (chief priests, scribes, etc.) approach him while he is teaching in the temple, and they confront him with this famous question: “by whose authority do you do these things??” (Luke 20.2)

Jesus is no longer in the more-rural settings that he has frequented, like Galilee. He has pivoted to Jerusalem, the seat of Jewish religious-political power, and now is coming into conflict with the figures ensconced right in the midst of that power. In today’s terms, it would be kind of like the difference between interacting with some local city council members here, or even the city mayor of Portland, as compared to marching into D.C. and being confronted with U.S. Senators. So Jesus is in the thick of worldly power right now. He has marched right into the temple itself, the seat of authority for the religious and political systems for the Jews (remember that Jerusalem was famously the place where King David himself ruled from) and Jesus is acting like he has every right and authority to act like he’s in charge right there! The question from the chief priests is charged. Note the use of the word “authority” (Greek 'exousia'), and Jesus refuses to give a clear answer to their question, instead offering a parable:

9 Now he began to tell the people this parable: “A man planted a vineyard, leased it to tenant farmers, and went away for a long time. 10 At harvest time he sent a servant to the farmers so that they might give him some fruit from the vineyard. But the farmers beat him and sent him away empty-handed. 11 He sent yet another servant, but they beat that one too, treated him shamefully, and sent him away empty-handed. 12 And he sent yet a third, but they wounded this one too and threw him out. (Luke 20.9-12)

Culturally at the time, it would not have been very unusual for a vineyard-owner to be absent for a period of time and leave the property in charge of tenants. But as we will see, this parable is not really about a “vineyard” and “farmers." It’s probably fair to say that this parable is the most-clearly allegorical of all the parables we have looked at: Jesus is saying a lot about God and Israel and especially those currently leading Israel. And I need to give just a bit of OT background to make this clear. Jesus is pulling on an extremely well-known passage from the prophet Isaiah:

I will sing about the one I love, a song about my loved one’s vineyard . . .What more could I have done for my vineyard than I did? Why, when I expected a yield of good grapes, did it yield worthless grapes? . . . For the vineyard of the Lord of Armies is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah, the plant he delighted in. He expected justice but saw injustice; he expected righteousness but heard cries of despair. (Isaiah 5.1-7)

This is an ancient prophetic word (given centuries before Jesus walked around), and it images Israel as God’s “vineyard” that he planted in the world, a vineyard that was intended to produce good fruit for the world, but instead was producing the “worthless grapes” of injustice and despair. Again, this was a well-known passage from a well-known Jewish prophet (and very-certainly would have been a well-known prophecy to these religious elites Jesus is being confronted by!), so when Jesus says the words, “a man planted a vineyard,” they would be expected to instantly think, “he’s talking about Israel!” And these leaders would have known that when Isaiah wrote this passage, he was making the point that Israel was not bearing the fruit that God intended. And this theme of prophecy and prophets is further underlined by the “servant-figures,” in the parable. They illustrate the way that Israel historically treated the prophets God sent, the same prophets (like Isaiah!) that were calling Israel’s leadership to the carpet, pointing out that they are not living and embodying what God called them to, and Israel historically did not treat these figures well. Now, remember the context and think for a second: how are these chief priests and scribes likely to respond to all this? Jesus is casting them in this fictional story as the “tenants," those currently overseeing the vineyard of Israel, but these tenants beat and shamefully treated the servants that God himself sent into the vineyard! But there’s more to the story….

13 “Then the owner of the vineyard said, ‘What should I do? I will send my beloved son. Perhaps they will respect him.’ 14 “But when the tenant farmers saw him, they discussed it among themselves and said, ‘This is the heir. Let’s kill him, so that the inheritance will be ours.’ 15 So they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. (Luke 20.13-15)

The language of “beloved son” here is very specific. There’s really no question that this is pulling on the language back from Jesus’ own baptism, when God spoke and declared him “beloved.” (see Luke 3.22) Jesus is telling a fictional story to the religious leaders of the time, and is using this vineyard-image to make one of the clearest references to the role that he seems himself playing in this whole drama. Jesus knows he has been sent by God “into the vineyard” and he knows that he will be rejected, but he’s also making a troubling accusation: that the ones currently in charge of the vineyard want to “steal” the inheritance for themselves. It seems as though these leaders have forgotten that they are tenants and stewards of something that is not theirs. They have become so twisted around their own desire to usurp control, to maintain their own authority over the vineyard that they don’t recognize the "beloved son" of the vineyard-owner as worth their respect. To any listener of this story, it is clear that these tenants are not stewarding this vineyard well, and something needs to change. Jesus continues…

“What then will the owner of the vineyard do to them? 16 He will come and kill those farmers and give the vineyard to others.”But when they heard this they said, “That must never happen!” (Luke 20.15-16)

Notice that when Jesus articulates what the vineyard-owner will do, that he will decisively end their authority and ownership and give the vineyard to others, the religious leaders interrupt, using an emphatic phrase, “No way!!” This Greek phrase (me genoito) is a bit obscured in English, but it’s an emotional outburst. Paul uses it a handful of times in his letters when he is emphatically trying to grab your attention. Picture an angry or emotional "NO!! NEVER!" This reaction, in my view, makes it pretty clear that the leaders were “getting the point,” they clearly know that Jesus is actually talking about them through this parable, but even though they “get it” in terms of understanding the scriptural imagery and symbolism, the clearly don’t “get it” at all on a deeper level.

17 But he looked at them and said, “Then what is the meaning of this Scripture: The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone? 18 Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, but on whomever it falls, it will shatter him.” 19 Then the scribes and the chief priests looked for a way to get their hands on him that very hour, because they knew he had told this parable against them, but they feared the people. (Luke 20.17-19)

Jesus lands the lesson of this parable with a quote from Psalm 118, with the image of a "rejected cornerstone." This psalm uses the language of stones and buildings to express the way in which that which is rejected by the world can actually become the very thing chosen by God to be the cornerstone, the foundation upon which everything else rests, and Jesus is knowingly using this quotation to point to himself as the embodiment of this in God’s grand plan for, not just Israel, but the world. In other words, while looking straight at the religious elites that have just publicly questioned the legitimacy of his authority in the middle of the temple, Jesus is saying “you may reject me now, but God will subvert that rejection, and it will become the thing by which you are shattered. Your authority over Israel now is more fragile than you know.” Notably, the hardness of their hearts is confirmed by their reaction - they indeed grew in anger, grew in stubborn disposition to hold onto their power, and ultimately would “succeed” (in earthly terms) in rejecting Jesus and getting him crucified.

And so I want to turn to communion now, and tie this all into the fact that we are recognizing Palm Sunday today. Human approval and rejection are fickle things. Adoring crowds shouting “Hosanna!” at the beginning of one week can become a mob screaming “crucify him!” by the weeks’ end. But thank God that he is not fickle like we are. Thank God that he is committed to his “vineyard,” to his plan to grow good fruit in our world, to rescue us despite our fickle attitudes, to send prophets over centuries to call us back, and, ultimately, to even come to us himself.

So as you come to the communion table, remember that the cracker/bread and wine/juice point to the real flesh and blood of the “cornerstone” that has been rejected. Remember that this is what God’s triumph looks like. Don’t be seduced by the vision of an adoring crowd with palm branches. Resist the allure of worldly power, because we know in faith that what looks like defeat, what looks like true rejection is merely the precursor to resurrection……

Two questions were submitted in response to the sermon from February 4th on Luke 14, the parables of the Tower-Builder and the Warring King.

1) How does the challenge to 'renounce your possessions' (verse 33) connect with the challenge to 'hate his own father, mother, wife and children' (verse 26)? 

I'm glad someone asked about this, because it gives me a chance to underline a point that I glossed over in the sermon itself. It does seem like a bit of a non-sequitur from our vantage point, in our cultural setting, because we immediately think of our connections with our family members as purely emotional/relational - but in Jesus' time and place, there would have also been an undeniable economic security dimension to these family connections. The family was the source of one's livelihood, future career/work options, inheritance, and "safety net" if something difficult occurred, like a disease or injury. There was really nothing equivalent to "unemployment" or "life insurance" or "retirement accounts" in the social fabric of the time, so if someone did something that put them at odds with their family members, that meant their very livelihood and economic security would be at serious risk. This was not a small challenge! So Jesus' challenge here is poignant, and for his followers at the time, would have been a sharp challenge. At times, your commitment to following Christ might put you at odds with your own family, and for those people in his time and place, that also meant your "possessions." This was part of the "cost" he was urging those in the crowd to consider.

2) Any advice for approaching conversations with culturally-Christian friends who are unwilling to acknowledge the cost of discipleship? Such as saying things like "I'm afraid that if I pursue God, He'll make me give up all the things I love to do."

Oh my, I love this question! First of all, I feel the limitations in responding in written form (rather than in-person, over coffee - which I would love to do!), but I will offer three quick thoughts....

In general, my primary advice for these kinds of interactions is to always ask more questions! In pretty much any conversation about spirituality or religion, I find that asking questions is typically much, much more fruitful than immediately jumping in with ideas or advice for the other person. So, in this scenario, I can imagine a ton of questions that would help dig a bit deeper, like: "What do you have in mind that you are afraid to give up? Why do you think God would ask you to renounce those things specifically? What is driving your connection to those things? What would it look like to not have those things anymore? Why does that make you 'afraid'? Etc, etc...."

My second thought is to be ready to offer your own experiences and story, and particularly your own examples of struggling to follow Christ in the same way. How have you wrestled with this same challenge in your life? What does that look like on a daily basis for you? Why do you still feel like it's worth following him? The more honest you can be with your conversation partner on this stuff, the more it will feel like a "real" invitation for them to consider.

Third and final, and something I briefly touched on in my sermon, is to consider the cost of not following Jesus. This could only be discussed in the context of a pretty safe and trusting relationship, but there is a real cost to not giving up whatever it is the individual is afraid to give up, and perhaps they need to be challenged on that! Perhaps there are areas of addiction or comfort or simple pleasure that they do not want to relinquish, but continuing to feed those areas in one's life will also bear a significant cost down the road. Perhaps you have a vantage point on their life in which you can speak to this, and perhaps considering that will help the person reframe the challenge in their own mind.

But at the end of the day, like I mentioned in the sermon itself, I really believe that most folks will be attracted to following Christ through their relational connection to someone who already follows him and loves them as well. My prayer for all of us in our community is that we would develop these types of connections with others, and find ourselves in relationships in which these kinds of conversations happen naturally and freely. The cost of discipleship is worth it!

Two questions were submitted during the sermon on the "Rich Fool" from Luke 14.....

1) What is 'Mammon'?
I'm glad someone asked about this, as I realized after my sermon that I probably did not provide enough context and definition for what is an unusual-sounding word. "Mammon" is the Anglicized version of the Greek word "mammona," which is a personal name. This word/name only appears in two chapters of the New Testament: Matthew 6 and Luke 16. The Matthew passage is very well-known, as it is during Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, in which he states "no one can serve two masters. . . you cannot serve God and Mammon (usually translated something like 'money,' 'treasures,' 'wealth' or 'riches'). There are plenty of Greek words for "money," so the use of a name is intentional, and it gives the idea a bit more force than the impersonal word "money" or "treasure." Traditionally, 'Mammon' became the name for an evil or demonic "force" that personified the corrupting influence of money/wealth in our world. So when Jesus says "you can't serve two masters," and then juxtaposes God with Mammon, he is giving the idea some serious punch. Money/treasure/wealth, in that comparison, is set up as a personal force in direct counter to God. For me, picturing money in this way, as a personal force that has strong corrupting power, actually helps me to take Jesus' warnings here more seriously! To be fair, Jesus did NOT use the term "mammona" in the parable of the Rich Fool that I preached on, so my decision to use it was an interpretation, although, interestingly, he does use the term in chapter 16, in another parable about money that we will get to in a few weeks.

2) How would you balance this parable and message with the concept of being a good steward over our resources (finances)?
This is a great question, and it gets right at the tension of talking about money, resources and wealth as a disciple of Jesus. On the one hand, there are radical commands like "sell all your possessions" and "give to the poor" throughout the New Testament. On the other hand, there are directions to be a good steward with what you have, and there is also the common-sense notion that if you simply give everything away, you wont' be able to take care of yourself, or your family, and you will also be unable to continue to help others. I haven't been able to chase down the original quote, but one of the ancient church fathers (I believe it was Tertullian) taught that you could be a stronger help to the poor over the course of your whole life if you practice careful management of your money, rather than in one single, extreme action of giving everything away. On the other hand, of course, there are historical counter-examples like Francis of Assisi, who did exactly that, and was a profound influence for good throughout his whole life. So, it's complicated! But I honestly think that's kind of the point....the complicated tension here causes (or, should cause!) us to wrestle, pray and discern in community what the best course of action is. I would go so far as to say that, if you aren't wrestling at all with your stewardship of your money, then perhaps that is an area of your life in which you should examine and consider what healthy discipleship looks like.

And the last thing I want to emphasize is that word steward. That's a really, really helpful word here! A steward is someone who has been given charge of something that is not actually their own, yet they have been entrusted with the care and responsibility of it. Consider someone like a 'building manager,' who has been given stewardship of a certain property. A good building manager will genuinely seek the welfare of what they have been entrusted with, they will keep the building in good repair and listen to the complaints of the tenants, but importantly, they will also not have an idolatrous, unhealthy lust or need related to the building itself. They will not daydream about how great it could be, or spend all their energy focused on making it the greatest building in the city. If they did start to act this way, we would agree that something is off about their attitude. We probably wouldn't want to trust them to continue to manage the property, and so too, I believe, should we seek to be good stewards of our money.

How would it change your attitude towards money to consider it as not truly your own, but something you have been entrusted with? What would it look like to take care of your resources, but diligently avoid an idolatrous connection to them? To have such an open-handed relationship with your money that you are able to give joyfully when others are in need? I think that notion of stewardship is deeply in-line with what Jesus was teaching in the parable of the Rich Fool, as he is a strong counter-example to this kind of attitude.

 Three great questions were submitted during the sermon on the Parable of the Soils from Luke 8. My responses are below....

How does the image of not hiding a lamp relate to the parable of the treasure in the field, that a man finds, covers, and hides?
The parable being referenced here is found in Matthew 13.44. Interestingly, Matthew 13 is a chapter full of parables and images from Jesus, including Matthew's version of the parable of the soils that I just preached on from Luke 8. There does seem to be a thematic connection between the image of a field that has a hidden treasure, and the image of light hidden under a bed, although I also find it interesting that Matthew does not include the parable/image of the lamp in his long collection of parables in chapter 13. Nevertheless, I would suggest any connection between these parables is a broad one that could be applied to many (most?) of Jesus' parables: namely, that parables are an indirect way of teaching and instructing. The lessons they hold are not always obvious, and they invite imaginative engagement, questioning and wrestling. There is indeed something hidden about the Kingdom of God, that nevertheless gets revealed as the Kingdom grows.

How do we know if we're bearing good fruit? Or enough fruit?
This is a pastoral question, and I want to offer just two thoughts here while emphasizing that there is no simple rule or legalistic measurement when it comes to "bearing fruit" in one's life. If I were to give a formula: "XX means you have officially borne enough fruit. Good job!" then that would  create a legalistic approach towards reaching that threshold. So first of all, I really believe that if someone is genuinely concerned about whether they are bearing fruit, then it is likely that person is an example of the "good soil" from the parable. A humble, prayerful heart and posture towards God and people is the "soil" in which God's Word takes deep root. Second, the go-to New Testament passage on this is from Galatians 5, in which Paul lists the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control. Some good reflection questions would be: are these 'fruits' increasing or decreasing in my life? Am I increasing in patience, peace, gentleness, or do I see evidence that those things are decreasing? And if you aren't sure, then invite a close friend or family member to speak honestly to you! A spouse, roommate, sibling, triad-member would be a great person to ask, and I believe that in the process of asking, and inviting such input, you would be cultivating the very humble posture that this parable is speaking about! Fruit-bearing is a life-long journey with God, and I pray that we can go on this journey together, as a community of faith.

Does God not give us minds to understand, eyes to see, ears to hear, etc if our hearts are not truly seeking Him?
In some ways, this question pulls on the deep mystery I alluded to near the end of my sermon: what is the give-and-take between our asking for understanding versus God giving us a mind/heart to understand? Does God give us a new mind first, but if God doesn't give us this, is it possible to truly seek him? Where does that leave us, then?

This is an age-old question! On some level, I think we must embrace the fundamental mysterious interplay between God's agency in causing us to seek him as well as our agency in seeking God. The biblical canon does not seem content to reduce the mystery fully to one side or the other, and to be honest, I like that! But in light of this, I do see a consistent biblical theme of God honoring those who truly seek him. In other words, I believe a heart/mind/soul that genuinely looks for God will not be abandoned in that search! God uses all kinds of unexpected people, events, situations to prod us towards him, and I believe that even the act of asking these types of questions is evidence that God is doing something in one's life.

This all reminds me of Paul's words in Athens (Acts 17):  From one man he made every nation of the human race . . . and the fixed limits of the places where they would live, so that they would search for God and perhaps grope around for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us.

Great questions! Thanks for taking time to submit them!

Every season between Christmas (Jesus' incarnation/birth) and Easter (Jesus' death and resurrection), I like to spend time preaching from one of the Gospel accounts of Jesus' life and ministry. This year, I'm very excited to share that we will be following the parables of Jesus, specifically according to the gospel of Luke. Luke includes some of the more famous parables, such as the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son, that aren’t captured in the other gospels. The parables are a recurring aspect of Christ’s teaching that engage the imagination, and that can also deeply challenge, provoke, encourage and comfort. My prayer for these next few months together is that God would use these short stories and images to fire up our imagination as a community, to see and hear new and surprising ways the Kingdom is growing among us, to challenge us where we need to be challenged, and to deepen our desire for God's will to be done in and through us.

Welcome to the season of Advent!

According to church tradition, this is a season in which we are invited to practice waiting, hoping and longing, specifically for the coming of Christ. While it is tempting to rush ahead into the joys of celebrating Christmas, I find that setting aside some time in these weeks before December 25th to "lean into" our longings and our hopes actually increases the joy we experience as we celebrate Christ's incarnation on Christmas. To that end, over the next few weeks in our gathered worship, we will be looking at two songs/prayers from two specific women in scripture: Hannah (the mother of Samuel) and Mary (mother of Christ). These two passages (from 1 Samuel 2 & Luke 1, respectively) are beautiful examples of expressing longing, hopes and worship to the Lord, and I pray they will help us experience a holy longing and hope as a community this Advent.

Happy Friday everyone! I got a doozy of a question from the previous sermon, and have been thinking about it a lot this week. I wanted to provide a response here....

So, if Jonah did not repent (in his prayer), and God tells him again to go to Nineveh, did he, (do we?) really have free will?

Ah, the "free will" question!! First, let me say very emphatically that I won't resolve this with a paragraph or two (or three, or four...)! But this is a question that (along with other ongoing questions like the "problem of evil") deserves careful thought and response, rather than shrugging and saying "it's a mystery!" even though complete resolution remains beyond our grasp until the full redemption and healing of all things. So allow me to offer a few thoughts as it relates to Jonah specifically....

It's perfectly legitimate to read a story like Jonah and be prompted to ask questions about free will and human agency, but it's also important to consider what kinds of questions the story of Jonah is actually trying to speak to (and, conversely, what questions it isn't trying to give answers for). And I see Jonah as a text that talks much more about themes like grace, repentance, conversion and whether there are ethnic boundaries to God's mission, rather than attempting to give answers to the philosophical questions of human free will and divine determinism. So for that reason, I wouldn't want to press Jonah too, too hard on the topic.
 
(Incidentally, I suspect the whole debate about free will is a much bigger deal in our cultural moment than it was to ancient readers - it seems to me that ancient people were much more willing to submit themselves to the mysteries of the cosmos, and forces like nature and seasons that were so obviously beyond their "control," whereas we seem to live under the illusion that control of the universe is within our reach, but perhaps that's a tangent for another time....)

That all being said, it is interesting to note the interplay between Jonah's choices and God's intentions throughout his story. On one level, Jonah absolutely expresses free will and makes decisions that undeniably impact the narrative - his flight to Tarshish, after all, is depicted as HIS choice - so it is true that he has agency on a very basic, literal level. And, as we will see in chapter 4, the story intentionally ends very abruptly, as if to say, "Jonah has a FINAL choice in his response to God's work," and this choice is left open! It seems that free human response to the scandal of God's grace is an important point of the whole story!

On the other hand, it is also true that God does not allow Jonah's choices to fully derail God's project, so one could potentially argue that Jonah doesn't have free will in a final, ultimate sense (as in, Jonah cannot fully prevent God's word from getting to the Ninevites, despite his efforts!). But frankly, if it comes down to that, I'm pretty glad God's plan wins out over Jonah's destructive, stubborn agency to choose away from God's call! That's good news!

I'll end by reiterating that I don't think Jonah is attempting to present a systematized understanding of how God's plans interact with human choice/agency, though we can glean some interesting lessons and observations from his story. At the end of the day, I take great comfort in the notion that God's grace meets us in the mystery here - that somehow we do seem to have the ability to choose, our agency isn't removed, and yet God's plan is never fully derailed or defeated by our poor exercise of that agency - and that ultimately Jonah's story reveals to us a "merciful and compassionate God" who is sovereign over creation.

Happy Wednesday everyone! Two questions were submitted last Sunday, on Jonah chapter 1, and I wanted to offer some responses here.....

If the text says fish, why do we all assume it's a whale?

This was a fun question to research! It's true that the most accurate translation of the ancient Hebrew word (the language in which Jonah was originally written) found in Jonah 1:17 is the general English word "fish," and it's also true that in the popular imagination, many of us assume the creature was a "whale." One major reason for this is that the King James Version of the Bible, which was one of the most influential and earliest widely available English translations, uses the English word "whale" in Matthew 12:40. This is when Jesus famously refers to the story of Jonah, and he says, "For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth." This was a translation decision, and because of the massive and enduring impact of the KJV, many of us picture a "whale."

The Hebrew word in Jonah is dahg, and the Greek word Jesus used in the above verse is ketos. Neither of these words is very restrictive in their meaning. Both simply mean something like "great sea creature." The KJV translators decided to use the English word "whale," while many other English translations say things like "huge fish" (NET). Personally, I don't find the specific biological classification of the creature that important to the story of Jonah, and I actually like the fact that the two original words could refer to a "fish" or a "whale." There's some semantic flexibility here, and I want to re-emphasize the narrative importance of the role of the fish/whale/etc - it was sent by God to thwart Jonah's attempt to continue to run from him!

Does Jonah take place before or after Elijah and the persecution of God's prophets by Israel's kings?

The short answer to this question is that Jonah's life and ministry took place after the life and work of Elijah the prophet. Because of the split kingdom of Israel/Judah after Solomon's reign, and because of the myriad of different prophets that ministered under different Kings and different Kingdoms, it gets very head-spinning to keep track of! But Elijah ministered under King Ahab (see 1 Kings 17 and onward for the stories of Elijah and Ahab) and Jonah ministered under Jeroboam II, who reigned several Kings after Ahab. The only reference to Jonah outside of the book of Jonah itself is in 2 Kings 14:25, which places Jonah in the timeline of Israel's history. I will likely talk a bit more about the significance of this reference for the historical background of Jonah over the next few weeks.

Thanks, as always, for the questions!