Psalm 124; 1 Kings 7:34–8:16; John 14:1–14

Originally published 11/13/2016. Revised and updated 11/13/2018.

Psalm 124: This psalm gratefully explores the hypothesis of what would have happened had God not been watching over and protecting Israel:
Were it not for the Lord Who was for us
—let Israel now say—
were it not for the Lord Who was for us
when people rose against us,
then they would have swallowed us alive
when their wrath flared hot against us. (1-3)

Our psalmist goes on describing the awful things that could have happened:
Then the waters would have swept us up,
the torrent come up past our necks
. (4)

When we are feeling discouraged and thinking that God is absent or we have prayed for something that has not come to pass the way we would have liked, this psalm is a stark reminder of what our circumstances might have been had God not been there “for us.” We are protected from disaster in ways we so often fail to appreciate. It’s entirely conceivable that we just barely escaped some awful consequence, just as the psalmist has it:
Our life is like a bird escaped
from the snare of the fowlers
The snare was broken
and we escaped.
” (8)

This idea of narrow escapes because God is protecting us is worth reflecting on in light of the awful fires in California. Many have escaped total devastation, although a few haven’t. Was God there for those who escaped? What about those who didn’t? Only God knows. Regardless of what has happened we know one thing stands sure and true:
Our help is in the name of the Lord,
maker of heaven and earth.

Amen. God is sovereign and this reality reminds us that the affairs of we humans are mere ephemera in his eyes.

1 Kings 7:34–8:16: Our authors go on at extreme length describing the furnishings of Solomon’s temple. For me, the gigantic bronze basins and the huge “sea” are the most impressive objects: “each basin held forty baths, each basin measured four cubits; there was a basin for each of the ten stands.” (7:38) The gold lampstands are equally impressive. No detail was overlooked, right on down to “the sockets for the doors of the innermost part of the house, the most holy place, and for the doors of the nave of the temple, of gold.” (7:50)

Once the temple is finished, it is dedicated—something we still do for our own buildings and churches. The priests bring the Ark of the Covenant into the Holy of Holies “in the inner sanctuary of the house, in the most holy place, underneath the wings of the cherubim.” (8:6) After all these years we finally get a clear statement of what the ark contained: “There was nothing in the ark except the two tablets of stone that Moses had placed there at Horeb, where the Lord made a covenant with the Israelites, when they came out of the land of Egypt.” (8:9) Almost sort of anti-climatic…

All of this is quite pleasing to God, and “the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord.” (8:11) As far as Solomon is concerned, this magnificent temple will be God’s dwelling place for all time:
The Lord has said that he would dwell in thick darkness.
   I have built you an exalted house,
    a place for you to dwell in forever.” (8:13)

Given this sign of God’s presence, Solomon begins his dedicatory speech by observing that God “has fulfilled what he promised with his mouth to my father David.” (8:15)

What’s fascinating to me is how our perception of God has evolved from Solomon’s time. While God is omnipresent and omnipotent, for Israel God apparently resides in one place and that is the temple. (Which is pretty similar to other temple cults of that day and later, e.g. the Romans.)

Now of course we tend to think of God as being everywhere, which can too easily lead us into a vaporous pantheism. I think this reading is instructive, reminding us that while God transcends time and space in ways we cannot understand, God also operates in real time and real space. And that at this moment that is the temple at Jerusalem. Jesus’ incarnation is God entering into the world into real time and space, but it is his church that transcends time (the “clouds of witnesses” down through time of Hebrews 11) and also space just as Christianity certainly transcends the boundaries of Jerusalem.

John 14:1–14: We arrive at the chapters 14 through 17 known as the Upper Room Discourse. Jesus opens by say  reminding his disciples (and us) for the umteenth time that it’s all about belief: “Believe in God, believe also in me.” (1)

Jesus makes it clear that “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places” (2) and that he’s going on ahead to prepare a place for them—and by implication, for us. So what are these ‘dwelling places’ and at what level of abstraction do they exist? The traditional interpretation is that they are places in heaven and that every believer will be accommodated there. But another read might be that God, being God, has a variety of ways—the various dwelling places— in which humans can approach and be with God.

Be that as it may, as far as his disciples [and therefore all of us] are concerned, there is but one way, and that is through Jesus as he famously intones, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (6) This verse has led to many asserting that Jesus is the exclusive way to heaven and all other “ways” lead only to dead ends. Personally, I’m not so sure. Jesus does not address that actual subject and we make our conclusions based on what may be incomplete information. Remember, this verse exists in the context of “many dwellings.” Also, as Jesus has been saying for the last several chapters, he and the Father are effectively one: “Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works.” (10)

Clearly, if we hear Jesus’ message and believe that what he says is true, this is how we come to God. But if we have not heard that message are we doomed? Many Christians believe this is absolutely true but I think they are using human logic which is not necessarily God’s logic. If God is a God of love, can this exclusivity and implied condemnation of all others really hold? In the end I think Jesus is expressing a concept that we cannot fully grasp. There is something else going on here, but I really have no idea what it is. Nor do I think theologians and preachers have as firm a grip on this verse as they may think they do.


Psalm 123; 1 Kings 7:1-33; John 13:31-38

Originally published 11/12/2014 (Psalm published 11/13/2014). Revised and updated 11/12/2018.

Psalm 123: Slaves keep their eyes down except when they raise them to the Master:
To You I lift up my eyes, 
O dweller in the heavens. (1)

This is one place where we get the sense that heaven is “up there.” God is clearly in the heavens up above, although this may be more indicative of God’s superior position than to his geographical location.

In that framework, we humans are like supplicating slaves:
Look, like the eyes of slaves to their masters,
like the eyes of a slavegirl to her mistress,
so are our eyes to the Lord our God(2).

There is only one thing that will aid us: God’s grace. The word is repeated three times:
…until He grants us grace. 
Grant us grace, LORD, grant us grace.” (2b, 3)

In this case, I take “grace” to me “relief from,” as the psalmist prays for relief from being “sated with scorn” (3b). Unlike many psalms that are asking for relief from more specific oppression, this one is more general, because
Sorely has our being been sated
with the contempt of the smug,
the scorn of the haughty. (4)

There is always this great divide: those who follow God and acknowledge our slave-like status (as Paul makes clear elsewhere) or those who attempt to live in their own self-sufficiency, believing that makes them better that those people who need the “crutch” of belief in God. Many of us know this scorn and haughtiness personally. Only God can heal.

1 Kings 7:1-33: While the Temple only took seven years to build, Solomon takes thirteen years to build his own house. Which includes of the House of the Forest, the Hall of Pillars, the Hall of the Throne, and his own residence  “in the other court back of the hall,” (8) as well as as separate residence for his Egyptian wife. As we read in the Psalms, Jerusalem is both where God resides, but it is also the center of temporal and political power. Clearly, through these magnificent structures, Solomon made a statement to the rest of the world that Israel was wealthier and more powerful than all the other nations and that these buildings were ample proof that Jerusalem truly was at the center of civilization.

Not only buildings, but furnishings., especially the bronzework made by Hiram of Tyre, all described in loving detail by our author. The bronze and copper molten sea,”a laver that was 15 feet in diameter and 7 1.2 feet high, resting on 12 bronze oxen, must have been particularly impressive.

When we realize that I Kings was written during the exile in Babylon, we can only imagine the author writing with a mix of passion and bitter nostalgia of what had been and was never to be again.

 John 13:31-38: Judas has “gone out,” and only the small band of true disciples remains in the room. Jesus is making it clear that his end is near, “I am only with you a little while longer.” (33a) And then what must have seemed like the rally bad news, “Where I am going, you cannot come.” (33b) Which for me is a reference to the entire chain of events that will be occurring over the next few days, ending finally at his ascension. But in his impending absence, Jesus gives the disciples something that will fill the void of his physical absence: love.

Loving each other is not just a suggestion; it is a commandment. I forget this a lot. Because as a commandment, it means we are to love the unlovable, and worse, to love those who are our enemies. In this regard, Jesus turns the world upside down with this simple single commandment. Even those who don’t accept Jesus died and was resurrected, are forced to confront the absolute truth of this commandment. They cannot deny the verity and wisdom of what Jesus is commanding.

And of course our collective inability to truly carry out Jesus’ command is exactly the proof of why Jesus came to earth, lived, died and rose again. As Jesus is about to demonstrate, that is where a greater love than any other human has been able to accomplish. Because what Jesus is about to do is the highest possible expression of the love of God.

But Peter, being Peter, completely ignores what Jesus has just said about love. In his fierce loyalty to his leader his steel-trap mind got stuck on why he can’t accompany Jesus on this upcoming journey. Jesus effectively tells Peter (and us) that absent the love that he has commanded our desires and intentions are hollow. But I also know this: I would have responded exactly as Peter. And I would also have denied Jesus—just as I have done so frequently in my own life.

Psalm 122; 1 Kings 6; John 13:18–30

Originally published 11/10/2016. Revised and updated 11/10/2018.

Psalm 122: This is the third of fifteen “songs of ascents.” This one is dedicated to David, and suggests it was sung on a pilgrimage “ascending” to the temple in Jerusalem:
I rejoiced in those who said to me:
Let us go to the house of the Lord.

This psalm clearly states that the pilgrims do not live in Jerusalem as they arrive at the city gates:
Our feet were standing
in your gates, Jerusalem
. (2)

Like the rural farmers they probably were, they are impressed by the city:
Jerusalem is built like a town
that is built fast together,
where the tribes go up
. (3, 4a)

Jerusalem is the epicenter of the what it means to be a citizen of Israel, where both God and the king dwell:
An ordinance it is for Israel
to acclaim the name of the Lord.
For there the thrones of judgement stand,
the thrones of the house of David
. (4b, 5)

This assertion of Jerusalem being at the center of Jewish life extends to today with the benediction/blessing/toast uttered by many Jews, “Next year in Jerusalem.”

This psalm is also a benediction over Jerusalem, which 3000 years later remains at the center of Judaism, not to mention Christianity. As such, we too should sing with these pilgrims,
Pray for Jerusalem’s weal.
May your lovers rest tranquil!
May there be well-being within your ramparts,
tranquility in your palaces. (6,7)

That Jerusalem remains the center of global conflict as well as religion is a stark reminder of the central role in the human history that it has played for more than three millennia. For those of us, who are far from Jerusalem, but who care for the welfare of that city and its inhabitants, we cannot surpass the intensity and deep meaning of the prayer for Jerusalem that we read here:
For the sake of my brothers and my companions,
let me speak, pray, of your wea
l. (8)

Our pilgrims have continued their ascent to the temple, an ascent that began at Jerusalem’s gates. They have admired David’s palace, and now they arrive at the temple, still praying,
For the sake of the house of the Lord our God,
let me seek your good.

Amen. That we would seek and rejoice in the good that God has given us every day. (Rather than whining on Facebook when things don’t go our way.)

1 Kings 6: My architect son-in-law would appreciate this chapter—a detailed and loving description of the first temple at Jerusalem. At last, 480 years after the Exodus, God is finally going to receive a permanent earthly abode. The central part of the temple, the “house of the Lord” is 90 feet long, 30 feet wide, and 45 feet high.

Perhaps the most impressive aspect of its actual construction is that “the house was built with stone finished at the quarry, so that neither hammer nor ax nor any tool of iron was heard in the temple while it was being built.” (7) Its walls are lined with cedar and the inner sanctuary is constructed entirely of cedar, lovingly carved, “had carvings of gourds and open flowers; all was cedar, no stone was seen.” (18)

This house is eminently acceptable to God, whose word comes to Solomon: “Concerning this house that you are building, if you will walk in my statutes, obey my ordinances, and keep all my commandments by walking in them, then I will establish my promise with you, which I made to your father David.” (12) Notice the condition: God will keep his side of the Covenant only of Israel keeps its side. This statement must have had small little irony for our authors writing in exile in Babylon. How far Israel and Judah had fallen since the glory days of Solomon.

Extravagance abounds everywhere: “Solomon overlaid the inside of the house with pure gold, then he drew chains of gold across, in front of the inner sanctuary, and overlaid it with gold.” (21) The temple’s furnishings are equally impressive, especially the giant (15 feet high) carved cherubim made of olive wood.

The temple takes seven years to build and we can imagine that despite its power and wealth, Israel’s treasury was considerably smaller at the end of this magnificent project.  The message here for me is that like Solomon, we are to give our very best to God, not what is left over.

John 13:18–30: Our gospel writer is in full theo-philosophical mode as he underscores Jesus’ words by quoting Psalm 41: “it is to fulfill the scripture, ‘The one who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me.’” (18) Once again, we read how completely intertwined Jesus’ relationship to his Father is: “I tell you, whoever receives one whom I send receives me; and whoever receives me receives him who sent me.” (20) This father-son aspect of the Trinity is seen more intensely in John than in any of the synoptics.

Before Jesus’ discourse can continue there is a betrayer to be dealt with. Jesus brings up the subject himself by announcing, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” (21) Needless to say, this raises consternation and confusion among the disciples as this announcement seems to have come straight out of the blue. John inserts a quasi-autobiographical note here, “One of his disciples—the one whom Jesus loved—was reclining next to him,” (23) although he does not name him. [BTW, my own belief is that John the beloved disciple is not necessarily the same John who authored his eponymous gospel, but this is not an crucial issue.]

Peter, being Peter, asks who Jesus is talking about. As written here, his inquiry appears to be sotto voce since Peter is also reclining next to Jesus. [I think this is also why John mentions he’s also reclining at Jesus’ side: it allows him to hear Peter’s question and Jesus’ answer.] Jesus responds that the person to whom he hands the bread will be his betrayer and hands it to Judas.

What’s fascinating here in this ironic reverse eucharist is that John is telling us that up to that moment, Judas was acting on his own out of some sort of frustration—probably that Jesus had not pronounced himself the Davidic Messiah and started a revolt against the Romans. Or perhaps he was having second thoughts about his conspiracy. However, as Judas “received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him” (27) and he departs—much to the puzzlement of the other disciples. The reference to Judas acting as an instrument of Satan is theologically crucial. It is not Judas, mere human that he is, that betrays the Son of God. Rather, Judas is simply the satanic means to a larger end in the great cosmic battle between good and evil, between God and Satan.

The final sentence of this passage—”And it was night” (30)—is fraught with far greater meaning than that it was simply dark outside. This is a clear reference back to the long discourse on light and darkness. Jesus is light; the act of Satan through Judas is the utter antithesis of that light. And at this point it appears that the darkness will successfully quench that light.

Psalm 121; 1 Kings 4:29–5:18; John 13:1–17

Originally published 11/9/2016. Revised and updated 11/9/2018.

Psalm 121: Those who despair over election results may wish to turn to this psalm for comfort and hope.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains:
from where will my help come?
My help is from the Lord,
maker of heaven and earth.” (1,2)

If we really believe Jesus is who he says he is and that God is ‘maker of heaven and earth,’ we can look to the future with equanimity and peace rather than fear. Our psalmist continues, reminding us that in the end is not humankind or its deeds that protect us. There is only one Protector:
He does not let your foot stumble./\
Your guard does not stumble
.” (3)

Regardless of human affairs and human deeds, God is on duty 24/7/365:
Look, He does not slumber nor does he sleep,
Israel’s guard
. (4)

Our poet employs a beautiful metaphor to describe the nature of God’s protection:
The Lord is your guard,
the Lord is your shade at your right hand.

I have assurance that I am fully protected from the harsh glare of evil that exists around me: By day the sun does not strike you,
nor the moon by night.”

Evil abounds in the world as we experience the societal effects of yet another mass shooting, just a couple of weeks after the last mass shooting. This psalm was doubtless of enormous succor to the people of Israel who suffered under a succession of of bad and frequently evil kings. Our psalmist asks us always to remember one thing as he concludes,
The Lord guards your going and your coming.
Now and forevermore.

In short, life will go on and those of us who trust God will find that one great fact of today that is the same as yesterday and will be tomorrow because we know that God will always guard over us. This is not to say that bad things won’t happen to us. They will. But in the end, God is on guard over us. We cannot lose hope.

1 Kings 4:29–5:18: Solomon’s reign is the high water mark of ancient Israel’s power and wealth. Our authors attribute Solomon’s wisdom to one source: “God gave Solomon very great wisdom, discernment, and breadth of understanding as vast as the sand on the seashore.” (4:29) His wisdom outranks all other world leaders: “He was wiser than anyone else, wiser than Ethan the Ezrahite, and Heman, Calcol, and Darda, children of Mahol; his fame spread throughout all the surrounding nations.” (31)

As proof of the fruits of that wisdom, our authors note that Solomon “composed three thousand proverbs, and his songs numbered a thousand and five.” (32) Moreover, he was an expert in the natural sciences: “He would speak of animals, and birds, and reptiles, and fish.” (33) As a result, “People came from all the nations to hear the wisdom of Solomon.” (34) For this brief period Israel was the center of the world.

How that fact must have rankled our authors who wrote while Israel had been conquered by the Persians and Judah was in exile in Babylon. If we need proof that empires that seem permanent but are in fact evanescent, it is right here. Only God is permanent.

His power and reputation established, Solomon turns to the building of the temple. Solomon sends word to his ally, King Hiram of Tyre, noting that “You know that my father David could not build a house for the name of the Lord his God because of the warfare with which his enemies surrounded him.” (5:3) But now that Israel is at peace, the time is right and Solomon “intend[s] to build a house for the name of the Lord my God, as the Lord said to my father David, ‘Your son, whom I will set on your throne in your place, shall build the house for my name.’” (5:5)

Hiram is more than happy to participate in the temple project. He and Solomon sign a treaty and Tyre and Israel engage in one of the earliest records of international trade: “Hiram supplied Solomon’s every need for timber of cedar and cypress. Solomon in turn gave Hiram twenty thousand cors of wheat as food for his household, and twenty cors of fine oil. Solomon gave this to Hiram year by year.” (5:10, 11)

One of the less publicized facts about Solomon building the temple is that he “conscripted forced labor out of all Israel; the levy numbered thirty thousand men.” (5:13)  They were sent to Lebanon to cut trees and then back to Israel to use that wood in the temple itself. Multitudes were engaged in this great national project, including “seventy thousand laborers and eighty thousand stonecutters in the hill country.” (5:15)

We can feel the pride of the authors as they lovingly describe the details of this great project.

John 13:1–17: John is writing his gospel some years after the three synoptics had been written, so he has no trouble dropping spoilers into his narrative: “The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him.” (2) John also tells us that Jesus was fully aware that his time on earth was nearing an end. Of course John, being John, states this in his usual ‘big picture’ philosophical way: “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God.” (3)

And then Jesus does something completely unexpected—the apotheosis of true leadership. He becomes a servant to those whom he leads: “He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.” (5) Peter, being Peter, protests that Jesus should not be doing this lowly act until Jesus rather curtly tells him, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” (8) At which point Peter overreacts and in an almost comical way, asking that Jesus also wash his hands and head. Jesus probably smiles and reassures him and the others that they are already clean.

The issue here is not about dirty feet or dirty hands. It is about the essential humility that Jesus displays and expects us as his followers to display as well. Jesus is setting the example that his disciples—and all of us—must follow: “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.” (14)

But we also need to remember that we remain servants. This act of humility is exactly that. It does not elevate us or make us greater than others. As Jesus makes abundantly clear here: “I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them.” (16) We are to recognize who we are and what our position as Jesus followers must be: subservient to him. Too often, we have see ostensible Christian leaders see—and act—themselves as being greater than Jesus. That their message to their church is all about them. And then we see them fall.

The question of course is, are my acts truly humble because I have truly subjugated my own will to Jesus? Or am I simply faking humility?

Psalm 120; 1 Kings 4:1–28; John 12:37–50

Originally published 11/8/2016. Revised and updated 11/8/2018.

Psalm 120: The opening line of this psalm suggests thanksgiving for God’s rescue:
To the Lord when I was in straits
I called out and He answered me. (1)

But our psalmist remains in trouble and thanksgiving becomes supplication. The poet has apparently been slandered:
Lord, save my life from lying lips,
from a tongue of deceit.

He asks his accuser rhetorically,
What can it give you, what can it add,
a tongue of deceit?

We know the answer: slander adds nothing to a person’s character; it only subtracts. We have certainly seen a lot of slander in the political world earlier this fall in confirmation hearings for Brett Kavanaugh. Unfounded accusations  only negated any admiration we may have had for his accuser.

Slander hurts and it lingers. The poet’s metaphor is exactly right here: it is a piercing arrow with a burning tip:
A warrior’s honed arrows
with broom-wood coals. (4)

Our psalmist is apparently well-traveled [or he is speaking metaphorically to make it clear that slander lingers everywhere he goes]:
Woe to me for I have sojourned in Meshech
dwelt among the tents of Kedar.

But no matter how far he goes the injuries of slander will not heal—just as we see today as a man’s reputation is shredded even though he has been vindicated:
Long has my whole being dwelt
among those who hate peace
. (6)

He sees himself as a minority among those who would rather fight:
I am for peace, but when I speak,
they are for war
.” (7)

Again, an apt reflection of the current polarized speech that reverberates across our country beginning at the very top in the White House.

1 Kings 4:1–28: Solomon rules over a unified Israel, establishes the court bureaucracy, and appoints priests, secretaries, a recorder, a person in charge of the palace itself and, interestingly, a manger over the forced labor obviously required to make things run. Among others, our authors mention “Zabud son of Nathan was priest and king’s friend.” (5)

In addition, the king appoints “twelve officials over all Israel, who provided food for the king and his household; each one had to make provision for one month in the year.” (7) Everything is sounding far more organized than the intrigue and plots presided over by David. One assumes that this one month a year service also acted as a check and balance, minimizing court intrigue and plotting since not much conspiracy can be accomplished in a month.

It’s a magnificent kingdom over which Solomon rules. We hear an echo of God’s original promise to Abraham: “Judah and Israel were as numerous as the sand by the sea; they ate and drank and were happy.” (20) Moreover, Solomon ruled over “all the kingdoms from the Euphrates to the land of the Philistines, even to the border of Egypt; they brought tribute and served Solomon all the days of his life.” (21) There is no question that under Solomon Israel achieves its apogee of peace, prosperity and power: “During Solomon’s lifetime Judah and Israel lived in safety, from Dan even to Beer-sheba, all of them under their vines and fig trees.” 25)  But no one was more powerful than Solomon himself as our authors provide a detailed inventory of his military power: “Solomon also had forty thousand stalls of horses for his chariots, and twelve thousand horsemen.” (26)

Unfortunately, as is the case of all empires, including this American one, once they achieve great wealth and power, it can be only downhill from there. But for now, let’s revel in the moment of peace, wealth, and power that flourished under Solomon’s reign.

John 12:37–50: Our gospel writer editorializes: “Although he had performed so many signs in their presence, they did not believe in him.” (37) Once again, for John it’s all about the binary state: either one believes Jesus is who he says he is or one does not.  In any event, no one should be surprised at this unbelief since as John quotes the prophet Isaiah who knew all along that the true Messiah would be rejected:
He has blinded their eyes
    and hardened their heart,
so that they might not look with their eyes,
    and understand with their heart and turn—
    and I would heal them.” (40)

And who is “He,” who has done this blinding and hardening we ask? One could assume it’s Satan. Or perhaps it’s simply human pride and a refusal to listen to Jesus’ new and unexpected message. Personally, I go with the latter since it’s far too easy to blame bad things on Satan when we humans are perfectly capable of blinding our own eyes and hardening our own hearts on our own.

However, lest we conclude that no one actually believed Jesus, John hurries to inform us, “many, even of the authorities, believed in him. But because of the Pharisees they did not confess it, for fear that they would be put out of the synagogue.” (42) And then the withering editorial condemnation that strikes at the heart of all of us even today: “for they loved human glory more than the glory that comes from God.” (43) As always, our belief in Jesus’ truth is hindered by our own pride.

John summarizes these last several chapters with a brilliant précis of Jesus’ teachings. First and foremost, there is his overarching theme of believing that Jesus—the Word— has truly come from God himself: Whoever believes in me believes not in me but in him who sent me. And whoever sees me sees him who sent me.” (44, 45) Then, there is the metaphor of this gospel: light and darkness that we have seen on display again and again, culminating in the healing of the blind man: “I have come as light into the world, so that everyone who believes in me should not remain in the darkness.” (46) As always, our choices are binary: belief/unbelief and light/darkness.

But there is kindness and grace in Jesus’ message as well—a message we too often forget: “I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.” (47) And central to the theological plank of many evangelical churches is Jesus’ clear statement that we must make a decision: belief or unbelief. But also a warning of the consequences of rejecting who Jesus says he is: “The one who rejects me and does not receive my word has a judge; on the last day the word that I have spoken will serve as judge.” (48)

Finally, John’s Jesus makes it clear (as he does not in the Synoptics) that he is the emissary of God himself, sent to earth to deliver this crucial message with God’s own authority: “What I speak, therefore, I speak just as the Father has told me.” (50) The question remains for each of us to answer: do I truly believe what Jesus (through John) is saying?

Psalm 119:169–176; 1 Kings 2:39–3:28; John 12:20–36

Originally published 11/7/2016. Revised and updated 11/7/2018.

Psalm 119:169–176: We arrive [at long last] at the final stanza of this overlong, often overwrought, psalm. Our psalmist, having run out of fresh ideas, uses these last eight verses as a benediction to wrap up the overarching theme of never failing to ask for a deeper understanding of God’s word:
Let my song of prayer come before You, Lord.
As befits Your word, give me insight.

To his credit, here at the conclusion he ties his several themes together. He asks one more time for rescue, as always tying his fate to his insights into God’s word:
Let my supplication come before You, Lord.
As befits Your utterance, save me.

The human response to rescue and to the understanding that God has provided is what it should always be: worship:
Let my lips utter praise,
for You taught me Your statutes.

Our psalmist’s salvation is inextricably woven into the necessity of understanding and then following God’s word as communicated through the law:
May Your hand become my help,
for Your decrees I have chosen
. (173)

And to make sure we do not fail to grasp his point, he reiterates this idea of rescue occurring through understanding:
I desired Your rescue, I Lord,
and Your teaching is my delight.
” (174)

For him, worship and obedience are the apotheosis of a well-lived, God-filled life:
Let my being live on and praise You,
and may Your laws help me.

Which, when we reflect on it, is exactly how we should also live—with one crucial addition: the saving grace of Jesus Christ.

Our psalmist had only the Torah, and we cannot blame him for his passionate clinging to the Law as the path to righteousness. Indeed, as he concludes with a familiar metaphor, he speaks for all of us, especially  when we consider that as the gospel of John has it, Jesus himself is the Word:
I have wandered like a lost sheep.
Seek Your servant, for Your commands I did not forget.

1 Kings 2:39–3:28: Just to make sure everyone got the message that Solomon was now once and for all the king, he carries out the pending sentence of death on Shimei, who has foolishly gone down to Gath to retrieve a couple runaway slaves. Upon his return to Jerusalem, he is hauled before the king, who reminds Shimei, “Did I not make you swear by the Lord, and solemnly adjure you, saying, ‘Know for certain that on the day you go out and go to any place whatever, you shall die’? And you said to me, ‘The sentence is fair; I accept.’” (2:42) Shimei pays with his life for his treachery against David and our authors solemnly [couldn’t resist!] intone, “So the kingdom was established in the hand of Solomon.” (2:46)

Like his father, “ Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of his father David; only, he sacrificed and offered incense at the high places.” (3:3) God appears to Solomon in a dream and “God said, “Ask what I should give you.” (3:5) Solomon wisely requests, “Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil; for who can govern this your great people?” (3:9) God is manifestly pleased with Solomon’s response and replies, “Indeed I give you a wise and discerning mind; no one like you has been before you and no one like you shall arise after you.” (3:12) As a bonus, God also promises, “I give you also what you have not asked, both riches and honor all your life; no other king shall compare with you.” (3:13) An interesting point here is that unlike David, who has a direct connection to God, our authors point out that God speaks to Solomon via dreams. David appears to be the last OT figure to whom God speaks directly.

As the famous example of Solomon’s wisdom, the two prostitutes [they certainly didn’t include that particular detail in Sunday school!] come to Solomon with the famous conundrum of the dead baby and the living baby. Solomon brings out his sword and the mother of the living baby begs Solomon to spare its life while the mother of the dead baby is perfectly happy to see Solomon cut the child in half. Solomon famously discerns who the real mother is, saying, “Give the first woman the living boy; do not kill him. She is his mother.” (3:27) Our authors point out that “All Israel heard of the judgment that the king had rendered; and they stood in awe of the king, because they perceived that the wisdom of God was in him, to execute justice.” (3:28) And Solomon goes down in history as the synonym for wisdom.

As we know, one of the great themes of the OT is God’s desire for righteousness and justice. Solomon—especially this famous story—is the exemplar of what it means for leaders to execute justice. Would that this wisdom were on greater display in the words and actions of our own leaders.

John 12:20–36: Several Greeks [aka Gentiles] wish to speak with Jesus and approach Philip, who with Andrew goes to Jesus. John’s Jesus replies with what must have sounded like a philosophical non-sequitur to the Greeks in metaphorical language: “unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (24) His explanation does not shed much more light on the subject as he explains enigmatically, “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” (25) He concludes with a statement that those who follow him will be honored by God.

Unfortunately, John does not tell us how the Greeks responded. Did they think Jesus was spouting nonsense or did they, being of a philosophical bent, grasp his true meaning? Of course that’s exactly the decision that any erstwhile follower of Jesus must make: either Jesus is a madman or he is exactly who he says he is.

Jesus goes on to ruminate in front of the crowd on his impending death, “Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour.” (27) John, alone among the gospel writers, asserts that God responds audibly: “Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” (28) As in the baptismal scene, part of the crowd hears only something that sounds like thunder while others claim it was an angel’s voice. Jesus asserts that the voice is intended for them: “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine.” (30)

He then makes the statement that at its literal level is awfully close to political treason: “Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (31, 32) John helpfully tells us that “lifted up” indicates “the kind of death he was to die,” i.e., crucifixion. Unsurprisingly, the crowd is puzzled as it asks, “How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of Man?” (34)

But Jesus’ response to the crowd is even more enigmatic, but it is highly meaningful to the gospel writer’s audience as John returns to the theme he laid out in the first chapter: “While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.” (36a) Of course we know that Jesus is referring to himself, but I’m pretty sure that all the crowd heard were words bordering on treason. Jesus knows this and John tells us that “he departed and hid from them.” (36b)

I think we need to read this section as a Socratic discourse basically constructed by the gospel writer and not as narrative history. This section is  certainly Jesus at his most theologically and philosophically profound level.


 Psalm 119:161–168; 1 Kings 2:1-38; John 12:12-19

Psalm originally published 11/6/2015; NT & OT originally published 11/6/2014. Revised and updated 11/6/2018

Psalm 119:161–168: In this penultimate section of this seemingly endless psalm, our psalmist seems to be wrapping things up by recapitulating its key themes.

  • He’s been/is being pursued by his enemies; “Princes pursued me without cause.” (161a).
  • God’s word is his highest calling and his greatest joy:
    I rejoice over Your utterance
    as one who finds great spoils.
    ” (162)
  • He rejects the temptation to do evil in the pursuit of the good:
    Lies I have hated, despised.
    Your teaching I have loved.
    ” (163)
  • He reminds God how diligently (obsessively?) he has worshipped him:
    Seven times daily I praised You
    because of Your righteous laws. (164)
  • Those who follow God’s law lead the best possible life:
    Great well-being to the lovers of Your teaching,
    and no stumbling block for them. (165)
  • He asks God to deliver him from his enemies because he has been so diligent in obeying God’s law:
    I yearned for Your rescue, O Lord,
    and Your commands I performed. (166)
  • In the end it is out of his love for the law that he follows the law:
    I observed Your precepts
    and loved them very much. (167)
  • And to emphasize that love, he repeats himself in the next verse:
    I observed Your decrees and Your precepts,
    for all my ways are before You. (168)

But we dare not mock the psalmist’s sincerity nor his example of following God and God’s laws. If one were to precisely follow the Law, he lays out a clear path. As I have mentioned before, I’m sure the Pharisees of Jesus’ time knew every aspect of this psalm and attempted to follow it sincerely as best they could. And even though we live in the grace of Jesus Christ, this is a pretty good example of what obedience looks like. But in the end, as we well know, a relationship cannot be built on following laws; it must be founded in love. Not love of the law, but the all-encompassing love of Jesus Christ.

1 Kings 2:1-38: It’s important to remember that these histories were written while Israel was in exile in Babylon and the author is looking back over the history of Israel and Judah and the succession of kings who were less successful in their rule than David or Solomon.

On his deathbed, David utters the definition of kingship: “Be strong, be courageous, and keep the charge of the Lord your God, walking in his ways and keeping his statutes, his commandments, his ordinances, and his testimonies, as it is written in the law of Moses, so that you may prosper in all that you do and wherever you turn.” (3) In short, as our psalmist would have it, “Follow God’s law and all will be well.”

Then following immediately, David utters the fateful words that retrospectively define everything that went wrong after him: “Then the Lord will establish his word that he spoke concerning me: ‘If your heirs take heed to their way, to walk before me in faithfulness with all their heart and with all their soul, there shall not fail you a successor on the throne of Israel.’” (4) Of course, with only a few exceptions, Solomon’s successors failed to “heed to their way”—and to God’s way.

David issues some final instructions about what to do about various loose ends and Israel’s greatest warrior king dies. Solomon then deals with the various conspirators: some are killed; some are banished. David’s general, Joab, has committed many treacherous acts, not least killing Absalom and his time for rough justice has come as well as “two men more righteous and better than himself, Abner son of Ner, commander of the army of Israel, and Amasa son of Jether, commander of the army of Judah.” (32)

Joab hears they are coming for him, and runs to the altar inside the Tabernacle for sanctuary. Solomon’s chief of staff, Benaiah says to Joab, “The king commands, ‘Come out.’” But he said, “No, I will die here.”” (30).  Benaiah goes back to Solomon, who replies, “Do as he has said, strike him down and bury him; and thus take away from me and from my father’s house the guilt for the blood that Joab shed without cause.” (31) The blood guilt of Joab is satisfied, reminding us that while Solomon will create one of the most sophisticated reigns the world had ever seen, the roots of tribal blood killing and revenge, albeit done in the name of God, are not far removed from the grandeur and justice that characterized Solomon’s reign.

John 12:12-19: Decamping form Bethany, Jesus  triumphantly enters Jerusalem. John leaves out all the details about the donkey, saying only rather cryptically, “Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it;” (14) in order to make sure we know that Zechariah’s prophecy has been fulfilled. The disciples finally begin to “understand these things” and John makes it clear that the crowd is the same one “that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to testify.” (17) John makes it clear that it is the Lazarus event has been the catalyst that allows Jesus to enter Jerusalem safely and triumphantly.

The Pharisees observe nervously, “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!” (19) At this moment it appears to them, anyway, that this rough-hewn rabbi from the outback of Galilee is taking over. We can only imagine their intellectual despair.

But the Pharisees do not understand crowd psychology and for once they were not in charge–and to a certain extent, I think John correctly lets them off the hook here with regard to the plot that leads to the cross. There are more powerful men—the chief priest and his accomplices—who are not afraid of the crowd that surrounds Jesus. And they will ultimately have their way.

Psalm 119:153–160; 1 Kings 1:28-53; John 12:1-11

Originally published 11/5/2014. Revised and updated 11/5/2018.

Psalm 119:153–160: Once again, the stanza opens with supplication:
See my affliction and free me,
for Your teaching I have not forgotten.” (153)

And again, there is the confidence that God will save him because our psalmist has a thorough personal knowledge of God’s teaching.  This time, though, we are in a courtroom and God is his attorney:
Argue my cause and redeem me,
through Your utterance  give me life. (154).

Which raises the question: if God is his attorney, who is the judge? I think the only candidate is God, who is at once defender and judge. By drawing this distinction between advocate and judge, I think we get a hint of what is to come for us under the terms of the New  Covenant, where it is Jesus Christ as our intercessor, who argues our case before God.

Even though the psalmist has asked God to argue his case, our psalmist soon returns to arguing his own case, asserting as usual he has not strayed from God’s teachings whereas his enemies certainly have:
Many are my pursuers and foes,
yet from Your decrees I have not swerved. (157)

Then, in almost a role reversal between defendant and advocate, he argues that he has defended God’s law before those who have become God’s enemies:
I have seen traitors and quarreled with them,
who did not observe Your utterance. (158)

Thus we have the clear implication by the psalmist that “I’ve defended You, God, so now please defend me.” On the other hand, we have assurance of Jesus’ defense. In his closing argument our psalmist reminds us that in the end only one things matters: the truth:
O Lord, as befits Your kindness give me life.
The chief of Your words is truth
and forever all Your righteous laws. (159b, 160)

Like the psalmist, I think we have an obligation to argue God’s case before those who reject him. Not just with words, but with our actions, as well.  The key here is that eventually truth will out.

1 Kings 1:28-53: On this day before the midterm elections, this story resonates: the transfer of power from King David to King Solomon. After being reminded by Bathsheba and Nathan, David utters the all-important words, “as I swore to you by the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘Your son Solomon shall succeed me as king, and he shall sit on my throne in my place,’ so will I do this day.” (30) The author gives us a hint of great things to come as Benaiah prophesies, “As the Lord has been with my lord the king, so may he be with Solomon, and make his throne greater than the throne of my lord King David.” (37), which is repeated by other servants (47). Solomon is crowned and “the city is in a (joyous) uproar,” which the pretender, Adonaijah, hears in the distance. Jonathan, son of the priest Abiathar delivers the bad news to the would-be king: “our lord King David has made Solomon king.” (43)

An interesting side note: “The king has sent with him the priest Zadok, the prophet Nathan, and Benaiah son of Jehoiada,…and they had him ride on the king’s mule.” (44) The obvious significance of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on a donkey on that Palm Sunday would not have been lost on the Pharisees or temple priests.

Adonaijah knows that his attempt to gain the throne has failed because David himself has anointed Solomon his successor. The guests of Adonaijah, knowing they are at great risk for having supported the usurper, “got up trembling and went their own ways.” So much for loyalty. (49). Adonaijah knows that the sure penalty for his rashness is death and he runs to the altar, grabbing its horns, which gives him sanctuary. Solomon has Adonaijah brought to him after Solomon swears not to kill him. We get a preview of how Solomon will rule when he grants mercy to Adonaijah with his first act as king: “If he proves to be a worthy man, not one of his hairs shall fall to the ground; but if wickedness is found in him, he shall die.” (52) Whereupon Solomon sends Adonaijah home.

Unlike the blood and battles that characterized David’s succession over Saul, we witness the first peaceful succession of power in Israel. What’s interesting here is that unlike David, who always consults with God before any major act, Solomon seems to grant mercy solely on the basis of his own wisdom. What will be the relationship between God and Solomon? Will God now recede into the background as a speaking character in this history of Israel?

John 12:1-11:  Sometime after the astounding resuscitation of Lazarus, we find  Jesus relaxing at Lazarus’ home in Bethany. Mary anoints Jesus’ feet with expensive oil. In a breathtaking act of false charity, Judas protests, giving his lengthiest speech in the Gospels: “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (5) Which of course as John points out is a lie to cover the fact he’s been stealing from the common purse.

Never missing the opportunity to make it clear what’s about to happen, Jesus says, “She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.” (7). That doesn’t faze the disciples, who of course think Jesus’ burial will come years in the future, not in a bit more than a week.

Since he brought Lazarus back to life, Jesus’ popularity is growing by leaps and bounds. So, “the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as well” (10) in their increasingly desperate attempts to quash this Jesus movement.

The dramatic story of Lazarus and its aftermath occurs only in John. Yet, it is one of the seminal points in the story, and Jesus’ greatest miracle. So, I have to wonder, why is it not in the Synoptics? As John tells us, “many of the Jews were deserting and were believing in Jesus.” (12) and that will help explain the large and enthusiastic crowds that greet Jesus when he enters Jerusalem. But the silence in Matthew, Mark and Luke about this seminal event is remarkable.


Psalm 119:145-152; 1 Kings 1:1-27; John 11:45-57

Originally published 11/3/2014. Revised and updated 11/3/2018.

Psalm 119:145-152: Our psalmist is now in full supplication mode:
I called out with a whole heart.
Answer me, LORD. (145)

Unlike many other psalms of supplication, he has a unique reason that God should answer him. It’s not because he’s in danger or being assailed in battle. Rather, it’s a reprise of the overarching theme of this psalm: the ‘answer me so I can keep the law” theme:
I called to You—rescue me,
that I may observe Your precepts.
I greeted the dawn and cried out, 
for Your word did I hope. (146, 147)

In previous psalms the poet will cry to God and then await God’s answer. In this psalm, though, there’s a scholastic level of sophistication. The psalmist cries to God because he craves the voice of God as God speaks to him through the Scriptures, the Law, God’s precepts. Yes, God expresses His word through nature, as witness the many psalms that talk about God’s voice in the thunder and other acts of nature. But now, God speaks through His Law and through that which is written.

Which is how I fundamentally hear God speaking to me. The psalmist then says,
Hear my voice as befits Your kindness. 
O LORD, as befits Your law, give me life. (149)

The goos news is that we no longer need to seek life through God’s law. Instead he has given us His Word directly in the person of Jesus Christ. That is the great difference between the psalmist and me–and I am grateful for that.

1 Kings 1:1-27: This first chapter of opens with King David sick and advanced in age. He has not publicly announced who will succeed him. In the absence of word from David, Absalom’s ambitious younger brother, Adonijah, is positioning himself to succeed David’s throne.

The ever reliable prophet Nathan goes to Solomon’s mother, Bathsheba, and advises her “Go in at once to King David, and say to him, ‘Did you not, my lord the king, swear to your servant, saying: Your son Solomon shall succeed me as king, and he shall sit on my throne?‘” (13). Then, as he has arranged, Nathan arrives while Bathsheba is talking to David, confirming Bathsheba’s news about Adonijah, noting that as the usurper prepares to take the throne with sacrifices and feasts, he has “invited all the king’s sons, the commanders of the army and Abiathar the priest.” (25b) and they are toasting the usurper. Nathan continues, “he did not invite me, your servant, and the priest Zadok, and Benaiah son of Jehoiada, and your servant Solomon.” (26) Nathan then points out “this thing been brought about by my lord the king and you have not let your servants know who should sit on the throne of my lord the king after him.” (27)

This ancient story is a reminder that no matter how great our leaders, they will age and eventually fail. Even those of us who are neither kings nor great leaders must remember that we are mortal and recognizing that reality–and preparing for a future that does not include ourselves–is our duty and responsibility.

John 11:45-57: The word about Jesus’ radical miracle gets out because some of the witnesses “went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done.” (46) The Pharisees and chief priests convene a meeting where they are more than frustrated:“What are we accomplishing?” (47)  They go on to state (quite understandably, I think) that shortly, “everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.” (48) Caiaphas, leaps to the obvious conclusion: “it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” (50) John then says something I had never noticed before. First, he points out that Caiaphas “did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation,” (51). In short, it is a prophetic statement.

John then doubles down for his community and for us, his readers, on this surprising angle with serious, revolutionary theology by revealing that what the conspirators were about to do would change the world. This is about much more than Israel; it is about everyone on earth: “Jesus was about to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God.” (52) The phrase, “Dispersed children of God,” seems to be a clear reference to all of us, not just the Jews.

John thus makes it crystal clear that the evil act that Caiaphas and the others are plotting to accomplish is in fulfillment of something far greater than disgruntled leaders trying to get Jesus out of their way or to keep their Roman oppressors happy. This is about the salvation of humankind.

In that particular time and space, what Caiphus and the others did to Jesus was undeniably an evil act, but in the larger picture of salvation history, the evil act was an essential element of God’s plan.  Of course Caiaphas and his cohorts acted with malice and never realized they were part of God’s “big picture.” For that evil they deserve punishment—just as Judas did. But in a strange way, we must be grateful to them–they are essential to what has to happen, and John makes this point crystal clear to us.


Psalm 119:137–144; 2 Samuel 23:18-24:25; John 11:31-44

Psalm 119:137–144: This stanza is a good reminder for all of us living in what has become a post-Christian society. Those who reject God are no longer indifferent,  many are actively hostile to hearing anything having to do with God’s word. Especially over-enthusiasm, as our psalmist notes;
My zeal devastated me,
for my foes forgot Your words. (139)

His zeal for God has exacted a substantial social cost but our psalmist soldiers bravely onward:
Puny I am and despised,
yet Your decrees I have not forgotten. (141)

Despite his trials, he remembers what we all need to remember. God is still here and his righteousness and justice are immutable:
Your righteousness forever is right,
and Your teaching is truth. (142)

For the psalmist, it’s all a question of focus. Whatever oppression he may be enduring, there is just one place to look for succor:
Straits and distress have found me—
Your commands are my delight. (143)

It is on this solid rock he stands–and we stand. Even better than the psalmist, for us it is God’s capital ‘w’ Word–Jesus Christ–that is the source of life. As the psalmist has it, “Grant me insight that I may live.” (144) For us, it is living in Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit that is life, no matter what oppression we may eventually face. We do not have to arrive here at this safe place though insight and knowledge; rather, we arrive by grace.

2 Samuel 23:18-24:25: Joab’s nephew Abishai is the commander of Israel’s special forces under David–“the Thirty.” One of the Thirty, “Benaiah son of Jehoiada was a valiant warrior from Kabzeel, a doer of great deeds” (23:20), who “won a name beside the three warriors. He was renowned among the Thirty, but he did not attain to the Three. And David put him in charge of his bodyguard.” (23:23)  These verses and the catalog of names that follows give us insight into the sophisticated hierarchical organization of the Army under David and his general, Joab. 

For reasons our author doesn’t specify, “the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he incited David against them, saying, “Go, count the people of Israel and Judah.” (24:1). Joab resists this task. An angry David insists that the census be conducted and the it reveals that “in Israel there were eight hundred thousand soldiers able to draw the sword, and those of Judah were five hundred thousand.” (24:9)

David suddenly realizes that he did a bad thing by taking the census (Alter informs us that taking a census had negative folkloric connotations and that the people would feel cursed by virtue of being counted.) A suddenly arbitrary God offers David three choices: 3 years of famine, 3 months of warfare or 3 days of pestilence. David chooses pestilence, but God’s anger is averted by David’s purchase of a threshing floor and offering a sacrifice there “and the plague was averted from Israel.” (24:25)

This is a very confusing story. The character of God demanding such severe punishment by virtue of David taking a census seems arbitrary and very much out of character of the God whom David has been following–and speaking with–up to this point. One is left with the impression that this story has been tacked on at the end of 2 Samuel by a different author.

John 11:31-44: Ever the brilliant author, John reveals a new dimension of Jesus’ character as he arrives at Lazarus’ house and finds Mary weeping. Up to this point Jesus has been pretty much focused on the rather didactic lesson he wishes to communicate by eventually raising Lazarus. He has an important lesson to teach about his own life and impending death, and even the protests of his disciples have not deterred him. He was willing to let Lazarus die in order to facilitate this lesson.

But when he arrives and Mary falls at his feet weeping, saying (I think plaintively, not angrily), “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died,” (32) Jesus sees the very real anguish that his delay has caused. And then when he actually arrives at Lazarus tomb, Jesus weeps. This is one of those places where we realize that Jesus is indeed fully human. Yes, as he’s been saying for the last chapter, he has followed the will of his Father, but as we will see in Gethsemane, it has come at the price of real human suffering; Jesus’ humanity is fully expressed here.

And not everyone is happy. Since some in the crowd chide Jesus–certainly a disciple or two, one of them probably Thomas–“Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” (36)

But then the great surprise. Yes, Jesus could certainly have prevented Lazarus’ death, but now by raising Lazarus he offers his greatest miracle recorded in the Gospels. I think if the disciples had really been paying attention–and it’s even a difficult thing for us to see–is that Jesus is making the final statement about why he’s really here; he’s revealing why his Father has sent him. It’s not to set himself against and overcome the political authorities of the time. It is neither Israel nor Rome that he has come to earth to conquer. He has come to conquer death itself.

Of course for us who have the privilege of knowing the outcome of Jesus’ story, the point of the Lazarus story is easy for us to see. But for the crowd there it can only be confusion and wonderment.