Category: Gospel (Page 4 of 7)

I had a college friend whose cynical humor always made me laugh.  He pretended to host a TV show called “Twist That Text”.   Contestants infamously twisted the biblical text to make it say what they wanted it to say.  We have a text that’s been twisted like that:  “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours” (Mark 11:24).

“Whatever” is a key word.  We want it to mean, well, whatever.  We want Jesus to be promising a Mercedes or a better job or a thinner waist.  A look at the context, and the promise itself, will straighten us out.  We have time to look only at the context today.

First, Jesus curses the fig tree (11:12-14). 

The next day (after the triumphal entry) as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry.  Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs.  Then he said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard him say it.

Jesus sounds like a spoiled kid who can’t get what he wants.  “No figs for me?  Bang!  You’re dead!”  He also sounds unreasonable.  Why look for figs when it isn’t fig season?  But Jesus is neither petulant or irrational.  Something else must be going on here.

In the Old Testament, a fig tree symbolized  Israel (Jeremiah 8:13; 29:17; Hosea 9:10, 16; Joel 1:7).  If Jesus means this fig tree too,  Israel is fruitless.  According to the prophet Micah (around 700 B.C.) Israel has been for generations.

What misery is mine! I am like one who gathers summer fruit at the gleaning of the vineyard; there is no cluster of grapes to eat, none of the early figs that I crave.  The godly have been swept from the land; not one upright man remains. All men lie in wait to shed blood; each hunts his brother with a net.  Both hands are skilled in doing evil; the ruler demands gifts, the judge accepts bribes, the powerful dictate what they desire– they all conspire together.  The best of them is like a brier, the most upright worse than a thorn hedge. The day of your watchmen has come, the day God visits you. Now is the time of their confusion.  Do not trust a neighbor; put no confidence in a friend. Even with her who lies in your embrace be careful of your words.  For a son dishonors his father, a daughter rises up against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law– a man’s enemies are the members of his own household (Micah 7:1-6).

This day of Jesus cursing the fig tree signals a time of divine judgment for the nation’s long-lasting fruitlessness.

Second, Jesus cleanses the temple (11:15-19). 

On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves,  and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts.  And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written: “‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.'”  The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching.  When evening came, they went out of the city.

Six hundred years earlier, through the prophet Jeremiah, the Lord had condemned Israel’s leaders for making his holy temple a thieves’ den.  “Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you? But I have been watching!” declares the LORD (Jeremiah 7:11).   The temple was the LORD’s holy house.  But the Jews had made it a “den of robbers”.  They charged Passover visitors from throughout the Empire exorbitant prices for sacrificial animals and for “clean” offering-money in exchange for “unclean” Roman money.  The Lord intended his temple to be a place where his people could meet him in prayer, but to the chief priests and law-teachers it offered big business profits.

Angry, Jesus abruptly shut business down that day.  And  his temporary “mini-judgment” pointed toward maximum judgment.  Forty years later the Roman General Titus would lead his army over city walls and destroy the temple once and for all.

So this day witnessed the Lord’s wrath against the greedy sins of the nation’s leaders.

Jesus teaches the disciples (11:20-25). 

In the morning, as they went along, they saw the fig tree withered from the roots.  Peter remembered and said to Jesus, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree you cursed has withered!”  “Have faith in God,” Jesus answered.  “I tell you the truth, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart but believes that what he says will happen, it will be done for him.  Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.  And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”

We’ll study Jesus’ words here next time.  Until then, it’s important to remember Jesus gave this remarkable prayer-promise on a day of wrath—a day that, in turn,  would fuel great Jewish hostility against him.

And aren’t times like that when we need a remarkable prayer-promise like this?  When we’re comfortable, our greed  for even more rises up.  And we twist the text toward more “stuff.”  But this promise is made for days when the world’s on fire and kingdoms are clashing  and we feel tiny and defenseless.

With that in mind, we’ll turn to Jesus’ gracious promise next time.

Had I been Jesus’ public relations guy, I would have insisted on two changes.  One, can the donkey.  Two, take over the town.

Read how Jesus ran it and see what you think . . .

As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples,  saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here.  If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ tell him, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.'”  They went and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, some people standing there asked, “What are you doing, untying that colt?”  They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go.  When they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it, he sat on it.  Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields.  Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted, “Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”  “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!” “Hosanna in the highest!”  Jesus entered Jerusalem and went to the temple. He looked around at everything, but since it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve (Mark 11:1-11).

This starts the climax of Mark’s Gospel.  He’s covered almost three years in 10 chapters.  Now he’ll use 6 chapters to cover one week.  Obviously this week is the core of his report.  It starts with Jesus doing something completely out of character.  Up to now he’s tried to stay “under the radar.”  He’s warned recipients of his miracles to say nothing.  But this Sunday he directs an entrance into Jerusalem sure to make headlines.

At Bethany, about two miles outside Jerusalem, he sends two disciples to get a donkey.  Frankly, the details Mark writes are a bit tedious, especially since he records Jesus instructing the disciples in the donkey-getting details, then records the details of them actually getting the donkey.  Not nail-biting drama.  Mark, why not just write, “Jesus sent two disciples to get a donkey and shortly after they returned with one”?

Of course, if I’d been Jesus’ PR man—no donkey!  I mean, is this animal appropriate for a king?  Jesus sat on this poor little thing and his feet almost dragged on the ground!

Now this, this white stallion, this would have been the way to go!  Impressive.  Stately.  Kingly.  From nose to tail this one says, “Conqueror”!

I wondered why Jesus insisted on a donkey “which no one has ever ridden”.  Later I found out a never-ridden donkey was considered to be “set apart for a special purpose.”  Even obtuse me knew then that Jesus was making a statement using that donkey!  What, I wonder, was it?

Now the parade, that went well.  Of course, it was Passover season.  Jerusalem’s population swelled as faithful Jews from all over the country—all over the Empire—made the pilgrimage.  Gossip about Jesus’ powerful works and words spread.  So when he started the two-mile trip into Jerusalem, he rode a road packed with pilgrims.  The nearer to the city, the bigger the crowds.

And what they shouted was genius—“Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”  “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!” “Hosanna in the highest!”  Messianic words from Psalm 118:25,26!  They were cheering Jesus as Messiah!  Man, I bet that grabbed the attention of some of the self-centered, stuffy old Jewish priests!  And that must have stirred reporters with dreams of high ratings!  This was BIG NEWS!

But then—I couldn’t believe it—just when he enters the city and the cheering crowds are biggest and loudest and even the priests are chewing fingernails about what he’ll do next, he just goes to the temple, looks around, glances at his watch, sees it’s getting late, and he turns around and leaves town.  Doesn’t confront the priests.  Doesn’t threaten the Romans.  Doesn’t give an “I’m-taking-over” spellbinder of a speech. He lets the critical moment fizzle.  He just walks out of Dodge.  Not even an, “I’ll be back!”  A PR man’s nightmare.  Make’s you doubt he’s Messiah.  All show, no action.

Of course, Jesus directed the whole event.  So why the fizzle-ending when it looked like the whole world had gone after him?

I’m just a PR guy and, like I said, I would have done the entry-thing differently.  Even so, I’ve got two guesses why Jesus did it the way he did.  One, the donkey.  If a white stallion stood for pride and power, that little donkey stood for humility and weakness.  For some reason Jesus, his feet dragging at the side of that little animal, was saying, “I’m humbling myself and coming to Jerusalem in weakness.”

Two, the fizzled-ending.  If Jesus had dragged King Herod by the ears and thrown him into the gutter, his aim to throw out the corrupt politician and take over would have been unmistakable.  But by just sliding off the donkey, dismissing the crowd, looking around and then leaving town, he must have left everybody—friend and foe alike—with a nagging mystery:  What will this Jesus do next?

How did a 1st century A.D. blind man get faith to be healed?

The Role of Faith.  Before we try to answer, let’s look at the important role of faith in the healings Jesus performed.   Typically, it was the sick person’s faith to which Jesus responded:  the leper’s (Mark 1:40), the bleeding woman’s (5:28), crowds of sick in Gennesaret (6:55), etc.

On other occasions, Jesus responded to the faith of someone associated with the sick: the friends of the paralytic (2:1-12), the Syrophoenician mother whose daughter was demonized (7:24-30), the crowds who brought a deaf man to Jesus (7:32), people who brought a blind man to Jesus at Bethsaida (8:22), the father of the boy with an unclean spirit (9:24).

Then, at least twice Jesus healed without anyone believing.  Such was the case of the man with a withered hand (3:1-6) and the demoniac in Gerasene country (5:1-20).  But Mark also reports that in Nazareth “he could do no mighty work . . . And he marveled because of their unbelief” (6:5,6).  However we try to understand that seeming contradiction, we can at least say that Jesus had no “cookie-cutter” approach when it came to the matter of faith for healing.  But we also are compelled to say that normally faith was required.

Interpretation of the Text.  That brings us to the incident about a blind man Mark recorded in 10:46-50 . . .

Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (that is, the son of Timaeus), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”  Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.”  Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.  “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him. The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”  “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road (Mark 10:46-52).

Before returning to our original question, a couple of interpretation issues.  First, the original Greek word the ESV translates “made you well” is sozo.  In general it means “save, preserve, rescue from danger.”  It’s the usual word that refers to salvation.  For example, Paul uses it in Ephesians 2:8—“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith– and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God . . . ”  In relation to sickness word is translated “heal, make well, restore to health.”  The ESV translates it “made you well.”  The NIV, “healed.”  Jesus’ statement, “your faith has made you well”, makes faith the active contribution for healing from Bartimaeus.

That Bartimaeus had faith is obvious.  For one thing, at least twice he shouts. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  “Son of David” here is a messianic title, so Bartimaeus is expressing faith that Jesus is the Messiah who can open blinded eyes (“Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened . . . “—Isaiah 35:5).  For another thing, when Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”, Bartimaeus’ answer, “Rabbi, I want to see”, implies faith that Jesus could open his eyes. 

Final interpretation issue:  Bartimaeus’ faith was in Jesus.  It wasn’t “the power of positive thinking.”  It wasn’t “name it and claim it”.  It wasn’t an emotion Bartimaeus worked up within himself until he could just see himself seeing.  It was faith in the person of Jesus as Messiah who, therefore, was able to open blind eyes. 

Question & Answer.  Now to our original question:  “How did that 1st century A.D. blind man get faith to be healed?  He couldn’t read Scriptures about Messiah’s power.  He couldn’t see the miracles Jesus performed for others.  We might quickly answer that, according to Ephesians 2:8,9, faith is God’s gift:  “For by grace you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.”  However, there’s a bit of ambiguity there:  does “it is the gift of God” refer only to being saved or also to faith? 

I suggest Bartimaeus’ faith came from hearing what others “gossiped” all over the place about Jesus.  He was undoubtedly the topic of water cooler conversation!  Bartimaeus’ eyes were broken, but his ears worked just fine.  And thus Bartimaeus fulfilled Paul’s words in Romans 10:17—“So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.” So that day, having heard about Jesus of Nazareth, he heard conversation that told him Jesus was right there!  That’s when he cried out.  And about a minute later, that’s when he saw Jesus.

* * * * *
Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.
Enable me to believe that you still stop and listen when I cry.
Enable me to believe you still want me to tell you what I long for you to do for me.
Enable me to keep asking when everything around me and in me says, “Give it up!”
Enable me to believe you still open blind eyes and make a cripple walk.
And give me a quiet, rock-like confidence to believe
that if you don’t answer me today, on that Day, you will.
Amen.

Watch people on your job, in the supermarket, around your neighborhood.  Do they look like captives?  In view of a verse I skimmed over recently (“Who’s the Greatest?”—https://theoldpreacher.com/whos-the-greatest/), they may be.  Let’s give a little more attention to what Jesus said.

“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve
and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Jesus, Mark 10:45).

In the 1996 movie, “Ransom”, Mel Gibson plays Tom Mullens, a wealthy father whose young son is kidnapped.  After two attempts to pay the $2,000,000 ransom fail, Mullens realizes he may never see his son again.  He angrily appears on TV and offers the money as bounty to whomever kills the kidnapper.  The story unexpectedly twists and turns, but in the end Mullens gets his son back.

God didn’t.  At least not until after crucifixion and resurrection.  Because his Son was the ransom.

“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve
and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Jesus, Mark 10:45).

This is why Jesus’ followers must be servants:  Jesus himself came to serve.  Throughout his Gospel,  Mark has shown us Jesus serving demonized men by setting them free, serving sick people by healing them, serving a crowd of 5000 by miraculously feeding them, serving a dead girl by raising her to life, and so on.  It all leads to Jesus’ supreme act of serving— giving his life as a ransom for many.

The original Greek word is lutron.  It refers to the price paid to release a slave or a captive.  Hence the translation “ransom, the price of release, the means of setting free.”  Writers have argued over the recipient of that ransom.  Jesus doesn’t address that; he stresses the act.  He would give his life as a ransom.

In that regard, Christianity is unique among world religions.  Others teach various ways adherents must perform some act to attain blessings promised.  Only the Gospel announces that Jesus has done what’s required to enjoy blessings promised.  Jesus gave his life as a ransom to set us free.

There’s a second reason why Christianity is unique.  It alone insists we are helpless, hopeless sinners who can do nothing to attain salvation.  Look at Isaiah 53:4-6, a familiar prophecy that gives  background for Mark 10:45 . . .

Surely he has borne our griefs,
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace;
and with his wounds we are healed.
We all like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—everyone—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all (Isaiah 53:4-6).

Isaiah calls us transgressors of the Creator’s laws and sinners (“iniquities”) against him.  Consequently, we are alienated from (are not at peace with) God and sick.  Like dumb sheep we’ve strayed from him.  Like stubborn teenagers we’ve turned to our own way.  Unflattering description.  We’re better than that, right?   Isaiah cements his case with this:   All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away (64:6).  However “right” we try to dress ourselves up, before the Holy God we’re wearing filthy rags.  On Judgment Day we’ll shrivel like dead leaves and be swept away.

In the only explanation Jesus gave in Mark about why he would die, Jesus told the Twelve he would give his life as a ransom for many.  Of this Isaiah prophesied 700 years earlier.  Messiah would pick up and carry away our griefs and sorrows.  Be pierced for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities.  Endure punishment so we could have peace with God.  Be mortally wounded so we could be healed.  Jesus would give his life as a ransom for many.

The New Testament writers echo the ransom-theme.  “Ransom”  (some form of the Greek lutrosis) is translated “redeemed” or “redemption” in each of these verses because ransom is the means of redeeming.    Just as Tom Mullens was willing to pay the ransom to redeem or set free his son, so Jesus would give his life as a ransom to redeem or set free many.

♦When John the Baptist was born his father, priest Zechariah, prophesied, “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed (Greek lutrosis) his people” (Luke 1:68). John would go before Jesus to announce his coming.

♦When newborn Jesus was presented at the temple, a prophetess named Anna came up to him and began to give thanks to God and to speak of him to all who were waiting for the redemption (Greek lutrosis) of Jerusalem (Luke 2:38).  According to the prophets, the holy city, now ruled by idolatrous Romans,  would one day be redeemed.  Anna recognized baby Jesus as the ransom.

♦Paul spoke of our Savior Jesus Christ who gave himself for us to redeem (Greek lutro-o) us from all lawlessness
. . . (Titus 2:14).  Here Paul identifies “lawlessness” (breaking God’s laws which leads to God’s wrath) as the captivity Jesus gave himself as a ransom to redeem us from.

♦The writer to the Hebrews taught that Christ entered once for all into the holy place . . . by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption (Greek lutrosis) (Hebrews 9:12).  Jesus, as the once-for-all ransom secured eternal redemption by his blood death.

♦And Peter explained, “For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed (Greek lutro-o) from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect” (1 Peter 1:18,19).

Money, regardless of the amount, is an inadequate ransom.  Captive to our sins and God’s judgment, our lives, however full they may seem, are ultimately empty.  Jesus is the only sufficient ransom for all sins, because he is the only perfect ransom and his blood is priceless.  Only he can fill our lives.

Do the people with whom we work or shop or live look like captives who need a ransom to free them?  Probably not.  But things are not always what they seem.  Probably you don’t look like a captive either.  But apart from Jesus the ransom, you are.  Believe it.

If so, you’re free.  To do whatever you want?  No.  To freely follow in Jesus’ steps and serve others for his sake.

“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve
and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Jesus, Mark 10:45)

For the third time Jesus foretells his death to his disciples.   Not death by Hollywood.  Death by crucifixion.  Preceded by betrayal, condemnation, mocking, spitting and flogging.  Followed by rising three days later.  Jerusalem will be the place, where the authorities hate Jesus to death.  Jerusalem—just up the road.

They were on their way up to Jerusalem, with Jesus leading the way, and the disciples were astonished, while those who followed were afraid. Again he took the Twelve aside and told them what was going to happen to him.  “We are going up to Jerusalem,” he said, “and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles,  who will mock him and spit on him, flog him and kill him. Three days later he will rise.” (Mark10:32-34).

The last time Jesus spoke like this the disciples didn’t understand (9:30-32).  No reason to assume they “get it” now.  What they do  seem to get is the messianic kingdom is near (1:14,15).  And James and John aim to get seats #1 and #2 in the throne room.  They start with a statement that signals every parent, “THIS IS A SET UP!”

Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.”  “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked.  They replied, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory” (10:35-37).

Give them credit for chutzpah!  (That’s a Jewish word).  Ah, but as usual, they’re a bit dense . . .

Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking.  “Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?”  “We can,” they answered. Jesus said to them, “You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with,  but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared” (10:38-40).

Do they gulp when Jesus promises that will suffer like him?  Undoubtedly they’re  disappointed when Jesus tells them he doesn’t have the right to give those seats in his administration.  There’s more to come, however. Typically, Jesus makes James’ and John’s chutzpah (that’s a Jewish word) a teaching moment.  First he has to quiet down the class because . . .

 When the ten heard about this, they became indignant with James and John.  Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them.  Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant,  and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all.  For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:35-45).

Once the ten got over their fit, Jesus explained greatness.  It’s not what the Gentiles (a non-Jewish word) think it is (getting to lord it over people and order them around).  In his kingdom greatness is what he says it is—being a servant. 

“Downton Abbey” fan?  That’s the PBS story of an aristocratic family in Great Britain living in a multi-story mansion during the early 20th century.  Bottom floor belongs to the servants who cook, clean, launder, dress and generally wait on the family above.  In the messianic kingdom, though, it’s the servants who are upper class on the upper floors.

Living to meet others’ needs (from holding a door for a disabled man to doing more than your share around the house to interceding in prayer to sharing the gospel and everything in between) is a weird way to greatness.  Why does Jesus demand it?  Because that’s the way our King lived and the way he died.  In fact, servanthood lies at the heart of the Gospel.  “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Taking the place of a servant isn’t simply the helpful thing to do; it’s the Jesus-like thing to do.  It’s the way we bear witness to the presence of his kingdom and show others what kingdom-life in this age is like.

Who’s the greatest?  Servants who follow the way of Jesus.

But should we even be aiming at greatness?  Isn’t that the opposite of humility.  Shouldn’t that be our aim?  After all, Scripture says, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6).

Here’s how I see it.  I may start being a servant craving a top seat in the kingdom.  But after learning to live (sort of) like a servant for some time, I start to forget about seats #1 and #2.  Serving becomes the arena where the Holy Spirit nurtures humility in me.  By humbly serving I grow into a humble servant.  And I begin to realize that the joy found in humbly serving is enough, because I realize I’m (wobbly and weakly) walking in the steps of the King.

“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve,
and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Whom can I serve today as Jesus would?

However good life is, it disappoints us.  For much of the world, life is a struggle just to survive.  Wherever we are and whoever we are, we expected more.  That “more” is the kingdom of God Jesus brought near (Mark 1:14,15).

I can’t prove God’s kingdom is real.  I can only welcome it by faith in Jesus.  I can’t describe everything that the kingdom of God is.  I can only define it as “God taking over the world through his Son, Jesus Christ.”  According to Scripture, that process is going on right now.  And though I can’ t fully describe the kingdom, I can cite these words from the apostle Paul:  “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine . . . ” (Ephesians 3:20).  God, whose kingdom it is, can do infinitely more than all we ask or even dream of!  That implies God’s kingdom is far greater than anything we might dare to ask for or even conceive of!  It’s the life we hope for, dream of, wish for—and far more!

But how do we enter God’s kingdom?  Mark 10:13-31 contrast children with a rich man to answer that question.

The Children.  People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them.  When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”  And he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.

Familiar incident.  It does, however, raise questions similar to the one we’re asking.  Why is God’s kingdom appropriate for people like those children?  How does one receive  God’s kingdom like a little child in order to enter it?  To ask another way, what is it about children that makes them models for entering the kingdom?  Let’s save our answers until after we read the contrasting narrative.

The Rich Young Man.  As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good– except God alone.  You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not give false testimony, do not defraud, honor your father and mother.'”  “Teacher,” he declared, “all these I have kept since I was a boy.”  Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”  At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.  Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!”  The disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus said again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!  It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”  The disciples were even more amazed, and said to each other, “Who then can be saved?”  Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.”  Peter said to him, “We have left everything to follow you!”  “I tell you the truth,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age (homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields– and with them, persecutions) and in the age to come, eternal life.  But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”

Why did the rich man go away sad without the eternal life of the kingdom?  What is it about wealth that makes entering God’s kingdom so hard?

The Contrasts.

• The children had no accomplishments to cite.  The rich man confidently confessed he had kept all God’s commandments from his youth.  The children couldn’t claim that.  They remind me of the first phrase of the third verse of the hymn, “Rock of Ages”—“Nothing in my hand I bring . . . ”  This is what it means to welcome God’s kingdom like children—to bring nothing to Jesus but ourselves as we are and to accept whatever he wants to give us of himself.
• The rich man treasured his wealth more than God’s kingdom.  As far as we can tell from the text, the children were content simply to be held and blessed by Jesus.  This is what prompts Jesus to exclaim, “How difficult it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!”  Not that the wealthy can’t enter (for “all things are possible with God”).  But from the human side, great possessions are a barrier to entering the kingdom.  Why?  Because they possess us!  This is why Jesus counseled the rich man to sell his possessions and give the money to the poor.  Only by such a radical act could the power of possessions over that young man be broken.  Sadly, he treasured them more than God’s kingdom.  Therefore, while the children are a model of how to enter the kingdom, the rich young man is a model of how one cannot enter.

How upside-down is this!  Wealth signifies success in the “real world.”  But it’s children Jesus embraces as examples for welcoming God’s kingdom.  Children who have to be brought to Jesus.  Children who are little in the world.  Children with empty hands who simply receive whatever blessing Jesus gives.

I wonder who I am more like?  The children or the rich man?  The question carries great consequence.  Which I am like determines whether I enter God’s full-of-wonder kingdom for “children.”

I’ve seen the pain of abusive marriages.  I’ve seen the agony of divorce.  I’ve seen Christians and their children suffer in abusive marriages because they didn’t want to disobey Jesus’ teachings here in Mark 10.   And time and again, with this text in view, I’ve wrestled over how to counsel believers caught in an abusive marriage trap.  Here’s the text . . .

Jesus then left that place and went into the region of Judea and across the Jordan. Again crowds of people came to him, and as was his custom, he taught them.  Some Pharisees came and tested him by asking, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”  “What did Moses command you?” he replied.  They said, “Moses permitted a man to write a certificate of divorce and send her away.”  “It was because your hearts were hard that Moses wrote you this law,” Jesus replied.  “But at the beginning of creation God ‘made them male and female.’  ”For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife,  and the two will become one flesh.’  So they are no longer two but one flesh.  What therefore God has joined together, let man not separate.”  When they were in the house again, the disciples asked Jesus about this.  He answered, “Anyone who divorces his wife and marries another woman commits adultery against her.  And if she divorces her husband and marries another man, she commits adultery” (Mark 10:1-12).

The incident starts with a test question from a few Pharisees.  They’re hoping his answer will contradict the law and be self-incriminating.  “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”  Jesus answers with a question: “What did Moses command you?”  The Pharisees cite the Mosaic law in Deuteronomy 24:1-4.  They want Jesus to discuss the lawfulness of divorce on the grounds of this passage . . .

If a man marries a woman who becomes displeasing to him because he finds something indecent about her, and he writes her a certificate of divorce, gives it to her and sends her from his house, and if after she leaves his house she becomes the wife of another man, and her second husband dislikes her and writes her a certificate of divorce, gives it to her and sends her from his house, or if he dies,  then her first husband, who divorced her, is not allowed to marry her again after she has been defiled. That would be detestable in the eyes of the LORD. Do not bring sin upon the land the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance.

Consider this passage for a minute.  First, Moses isn’t giving guidelines for divorce.  Nor does he prohibit it.   What he does is recognize men are divorcing their wives (see also Leviticus 21:7; Numbers 30:9).  Moses’ aim here is to prevent a man from remarrying a woman he had previously divorced.

Second, two schools of thought existed about the interpretation of “something indecent“ that a man finds in his wife.  The Hebrew word (ervah) basically means “nakedness”.  In this context, it obviously doesn’t mean literal nakedness.  Therefore, it’s vaguely translated, “indecent, shameful”.  Two schools of thought developed.  One, led by Rabbi Shemei, interpreted it to mean some sort of sexual immorality.  The other, led by Rabbi Hillel, interpreted it to mean virtually anything that shames the husband or that he finds displeasing about his wife.  These schools of thought lay behind the Pharisees’ question and load it with more complexity for Jesus.

But Jesus easily  hits the heart of the issue when he explains why Moses gave the Deuteronomy 24 law:  “It was because your hearts were hard (stubborn, obstinate, unyielding toward God) that Moses wrote you this law. But at the beginning of creation God ‘made them male and female.’  ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife,  and the two will become one flesh’ “.  Jesus concludes: “So they are no longer two but one flesh.  What therefore God has joined together, let man not separate.”  According to Jesus, God’s creation ordinance takes precedence over the later Mosaic law given due to “hard hearts”.

Later, when the disciples ask about this, Jesus draws a further conclusion:  “Anyone who divorces his wife and marries another woman commits adultery against her.  And if she divorces her husband and marries another man, she commits adultery.” 

This is stark stuff.   What help does it offer a wife suffering an abusive marriage whose husband refuses help?  Or a wife divorced and now remarried?  Of course, Jesus doesn’t intend to offer help.  He’s answering the Pharisees’ test-question.  And he answers it with God’s ideal design for marriage.  By “ideal” I don’t mean pie-in-the-sky or out-of-reach.  By “ideal” I mean model or exemplary.  In other words, what Jesus quotes from Genesis 1:24 pictures how God designed marriage to supremely be.

But all marriages aren’t “model”.  Why?   Sin.  Sin in the world.  Sin in the husband.  Sin in the wife.  Sin still in the Spirit-indwelt believer.  As iron left in the rain rusts, so sin corrupts. And sometimes,  one or both marriage partners allow corruption to continue until the marriage crumbles.

It’s easy to approach this text as a theologian.  What Jesus teaches is plain.  But I approach this text as a (former) pastor.  Before me sits a Christian wife with two young children, all of whom have suffered verbal and emotional abuse for years.  She’s prayed.  Others have prayed.  Things have gotten worse, not better.  The pain shows on her face.  I wonder the effect on the kids.  The wife nervously confides she’s considering divorce.  But, knowing Jesus’ prohibition, she’s afraid—almost as if she’s contemplating the unpardonable sin.

My gut wants me to punch this guy in the face; my mind starts looking for loopholes.  I find one in Matthew 19:9—“And I say to you, whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality (Greek porneia–sexual immorality of any kind, including prostitution, fornication, homosexual practice, adultery, etc.), and marries another, commits adultery.”  I ask, “Has your husband cheated on you?”  “I don’t think so,” she answers.  Loophole closed.

I find another in 1 Corinthians 7:15—“But if the unbeliever leaves, let him do so. A believing man or woman is not bound in such circumstances; God has called us to live in peace.”  I ask, “Does your husband want to leave you?”  “No,” she replies.  “He’s got it too good right where he is.”  I wonder if “leaving” has to be physical.  Can’t it also be emotional or relational?  The text plainly means “physical desertion”.  But couldn’t it be okay to apply it emotionally?  I’m looking for a loophole because I don’t want to counsel this woman to keep suffering.

How could Jesus?  Oh, I know Ephesians 5:22-33 makes marriage a picture of Christ and his church.  And if we divorce and remarry we wreck our witness.  But how can a marriage like this one reveal Christ and his church?  Does anybody who knows this family “see Jesus” in their home?  I decide neither every marriage nor the institution of marriage pictures Christ and his church—only those that approximate God’s model.

But I still have no loophole.  Divorce + remarriage = adultery.  Maybe it’s my soft heart, but I decide each “case” must be decided on its own merits.  I have to uphold the sanctity of marriage and not condone divorce because the wife feels unappreciated.   I have to get the whole picture of the marriage, know what attempts have been made to “make it work”, and see how long this has been going on.  If it seems hopeless, I suggest a reasonable time period (six months?) to see what God might do.  Then, if nothing’s changed, I agree that divorce seems the only solution.  I warn her that’s not simple.  Divorce and remarriage come with long-term trouble.  I’ll try to help her through the process.  She and her kids won’t be alone.

So call me a heretic.  Charge me with flagrant disobedience.  But I’m not sure that Scripture explicitly tells us everything about the issue.  I figure there are certain situations where we have to make the best decision we can, knowing what we know from God’s Word . . . feeling the pain of the people involved . . . and trusting Jesus to be merciful to us as we wrestle with the stinking mess that sin has made of this marriage . . .  and hoping our Savior through divorce and remarriage will graciously redeem this stinking mess into a family that smells a lot like his love.

Welcome to Discipleship 101.  In Mark’s Gospel, class starts after Peter acknowledges Jesus as Messiah (8:27-30).  Mark’s explicit about it: “They [Jesus and the disciples] went on from there [the mountain where Jesus was transfigured] and passed through Galilee.  And [Jesus] did not want anyone to know for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “‘The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him.  And when he is killed, after three days he will rise'” (9:30,31).

So what discipleship lessons does Jesus teach?

Lesson 1:  I’m going to be killed and rise (9:31).  This is the Gospel’s heart (see 1 Corinthians 15:3,4).  A crucified Messiah is a scandal, but familiarity has softened it.   Because of pride, we’re blind to our need of him. But this is the Good News—not only because his death and resurrection were for our sake, but also because they mark out the road of discipleship we’re called to follow.

Lesson 2:  If you want to come after me, you have to deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me (8:34).  We looked at this lesson here https://theoldpreacher.com/selfie/ and here https://theoldpreacher.com/selfie-too/.  In short, to follow Jesus we have to lay down our lives as we naturally want to live them—and in some cases, lay them down to death.   We may learn this  at the very beginning of faith or a little later.  But learn it we must.  The lesson is foundational.  Until it’s in place, nothing of any weight can be built into us.

Lesson 3:  To be first, be last and serve everybody (9:35).  We previously considered this lesson here:  https://theoldpreacher.com/fight-for-last-place/.  Each disciple argued, “I’m the greatest”. Jesus made a little child their model (9:33-37).  Why?  Because Jesus was bottom-of-the-order servant to everyone and so must his disciples be.

Lesson 4:  Whoever isn’t against us is for us (9:38-41).  “Teacher,” said John, “we saw a man driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”  “Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “No one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me,  for whoever is not against us is for us.  I tell you the truth, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to Christ will certainly not lose his reward. 

Welcome to denominationalism (or non-denominationalism)!  Because he’s not “one of us”  (Reformed, Arminian, hymn-singers, contemporary worship song-singers,  Lord’s table “fencers”, charismatics, etc.)  we brand him “inferior”.   The Twelve looked down on a man acting in Jesus’ name who was not one of them, so we openly or subconsciously look down on those not one of us.  Two thousand years of church history and we still struggle to learn the one not against us is for us!

Lesson 5: Better to drown than cause a little one to stumble (9:42-50).  “And if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around his neck.  If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out.  And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell.  And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell,  where ‘their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched.’  Everyone will be salted with fire.  Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with each other.”

If you don’t get that this is serious stuff, better re-read Jesus’ words!  It seems Jesus said this while the child (9:36) was still in the house with them.  So  I take “little ones” to mean “children”.  Little children are capable of “little children faith”.   But if any of us “big” disciples causes one of Jesus’ “little ones” to “stumble” (the literal meaning of the Greek verb skandalion) it’d be better for us to jump into the river wearing a concrete necklace!

This is a frightening warning!  How does a child react to a father who abuses his mother?  What happens when a child sees his father watching online porn?  How do children feel about the church “family” when they hear gossip or bad-mouthing about them?  They follow in the footsteps of the “big” guys!  How many children have been “tripped up” in their simple faith by adults who don’t take sanctified living seriously?

Jesus is so no-nonsense about this he uses his strongest language for the guilty.  Hack off your hand if  it brings about sin!  Saw off your leg if it leads you to sin!  Claw out your eye if it compels you to sin!  Of course,  Jesus is using figures of speech.  But let’s not allow grammar to soften the force of the warning!  It would be better to drown than cause a “little one” to stumble over our sin! Jesus is that serious about our not causing a “little one” to stumble over our sin!

Jesus’ “salt”-talk puzzles me.  Commentators I’ve read do contortions, but in my opinion poorly explain it.  So when I figure it out, I’ll come back to it.  Meanwhile the class for Discipleship 101 is over.

* * * * *

Ah, but wait, let’s talk test.  When will the test be?  The rest of this day.  And the rest of our lives.  You see, this isn’t a pen-and-paper test taken in the church sanctuary or Sunday school class  or online.  We take it where we live and work.  We take it in our day-to-day circumstances.  And as soon as we’re done here, it starts  . . .

“

Coach (to his Little League players in the dugout}:  “Now, boys, this is the start of our season.  I’m counting on all of you to play your best so we can finish last!  Okay, everybody hit the field!”

* * * * *

Death Dominates.  After Peter acknowledges Jesus is Messiah (Mark 8:27-30), death dominates his teaching.  Mark reports it in 8:31-33 (Jesus will die), in 8:34-9:1 (disciples must be willing to die), in 9:9-13 (the Son of Man will rise from the dead); and 9:30-32 (Jesus will be betrayed, killed, then rise) . . .

They left that place and passed through Galilee. Jesus did not want anyone to know where they were,  because he was teaching his disciples. He said to them, “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise.”  But they did not understand what he meant and were afraid to ask him about it (Mark 9:30-32).

Disciples Don’t Get It & Why.  Plain enough.  But the disciples don’t understand.  Why?  The Jews’ first-century messianic expectations explain.  Here’s what  Henri Daniel Rops wrote about that in his book Daily Life in the Time of Jesus . . .

[The Messiah] was one of the essential bases of Israel’s religion, as much part of it as its monotheism and the doctrine of the covenant . . . {The expectation of Messiah) was one of the most striking  characteristics which set it apart from all the other religions of antiquity.  The Jews, instead of setting their golden age in the remote night of the past, looked forward to its coming in the future . . . [This hope centered in] the imposing image of a heaven-sent being charged with making the hope a reality . . . This hope had never been so much alive, so vivid, nor its fulfillment so urgently awaited, as it was in this time of sadness and of deep, tormenting anxiety . . . How then could [the nation] fail to believe with all its strength, that the Almighty was to cause Israel to triumph, that He would revenge their enemies’ malignance, and that at the same time He would restore the Jews to their rights and their glory? . . . The Messiah, then, was the center of a vast mass of confused, involved and even contradictory notions, from which there arose a few certainties that were acknowledged by all:  the reign of the Messiah would begin a time of perfect happiness; the fullness of Israel’s glory would be restored; God’s justice would rule the world.

Think Donald Trump.  Polls show him the lead Republican nomination contender for president.  Why?  His followers call him “a leader,” “decisive,” “a man who will get things done.”  He’s “strong”, “assertive”, a “takeover kind of guy who takes no nonsense from anybody.” Now imagine Trump out-of-the-blue  calmly predicts his enemies will reject and betray and kill him and then he’ll rise again.  At best, we’d be shocked and confused.  My analogy may be over-the-top, but I think this is why the disciples appear so ignorant about Jesus’ death-talk.  And it also explains the disciples’ crassness in what follows . . .

They came to Capernaum. When he was in the house, he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the road?”  But they kept quiet because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest (9:33,34).

How could they bicker about which was the greatest when Jesus had just again told them his enemies would capture and kill him?  Sure their thinking and desires were sin-depraved.  But I think their primary problem was flawed expectations.  Messiah would avenge Israel’s enemies, restore her to glory and establish God’s justice over the earth.

Expectations Upside-Downed. 

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.”  He took a little child and had him stand among them. Taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me” (9:35-37).

Aim for last place.  Be everybody’s servant.  That’s so radical we read right over it.  Think applying that in the church.  Every member should be nagging the pastor:  “What can I do?  Where’s there a need?  How can I serve?”  Instead we have 10% of the people doing 90% of the work.  Think how that might apply in the family.  If Dad and teenage daughter don’t get along, Dad humbly reaches out to restore that relationship instead of stubbornly saying, “She’s got to come to me!”

Jesus calls a little child and holds him in his arms.   By Jewish messianic expectations Jesus would have made King David in full battle gear the model.  Instead he points the disciples to a toddler-age boy.  “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me . . . ”  Messiah, you are like this little child?    We’re not to welcome Messiah Warrior but Messiah Child? 

What will a little child do when handed over to the authorities and condemned to die?  Die!  He can’t defend himself.  He can’t fight back.  He’s a small, defenseless, vulnerable boy.  He’ll be killed.  “The  Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him” (9:31)  

This is why those who welcome Messiah must become bottom-of-the order servants to everyone—because Messiah is.  This is where Messiah leads his followers—not to the place of power but of weakness, not to the place of winner in the world’s eyes but loser, not to the place of leisurely comfort for oneself but the place of costly sacrifice for others for Jesus’ sake.

 “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”  A wise prayer—because unbelief often pollutes faith.

* * * * *

A contentious crowd had gathered.  When they saw Jesus—Peter, James and John following—they hurried to him.  “What are you arguing about with them?” Jesus asked the other nine disciples  (Mark 9:16).

A man from the crowd spoke up:  “Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a spirit that makes him mute.  And whenever it seizes him it throws him down, and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid.  So I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they were not able” (9:17,18).  Nine disciples, to whom Jesus had earlier given authority to cast out demons (3:15; 6:7), had no power over this spirit.

“O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you?  How long am I to bear with you?  (9:19a).  Hear Jesus sigh in frustration?  “Bring him to me” (9:19b).

That command stirred up a bees’ nest.  And when the spirit saw [Jesus], immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth.  “How long has this been happening to him?” Jesus wanted to know (9:20,21a).

“From childhood,” the father replied (9:21b).  “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us” (9:22b).

“If you can!” Jesus replied.  “All things are possible for the one who believes.” (9:23).

Now the father’s “prayer”.  “I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!” 

By  bringing  his son to Jesus, the father evidenced his belief in Jesus’ ability.  But it was shown to be mixed with unbelief, when he told Jesus, “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.”  A few weeks ago, the Environmental Protection Agency, inadvertently released some sort of sludge from an old abandoned Colorado mine turning the state’s sparking clear rivers into a mustard-like mess.  Unbelief pollutes faith.  But for the one whose faith is like the see-to-the-bottom river all things are possible.  Ah, but when the need is suddenly at hand, how do we attain a clear Colorado-river-like faith?  By praying this prayer.

It seems Jesus did help the father overcome his unbelief—because Jesus rebuked the unclean the spirit, saying to it, “You mute and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him and never enter him again.”  And it came out (9:25-27).  Jesus did the impossible for the one who believed.

Mark ends his report by recording a most important question and answer. Question from the disciples:   “Why could we not cast it out?”  Answer from Jesus:   “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer” (9:28,29), 

I infer that the nine disciples approached the boy and commanded the evil spirit out—but without first praying.  Since they had authority before, maybe they presumed they could make the spirit jump.  But not “this kind” of spirit.  “This kind” required prayer.  I think Jesus meant, “Before you go around commanding demons, understand the limitations of your faith (as the father did his) and pray for help to overcome your unbelief.”

* * * * *

Faith is “funny”.  How much faith is necessary?  How do we measure it?  What precisely is the “interaction” between faith and the answer?  Mysterious!  Yet, simple.  The word “faith” makes me think of a warrior aggressively encountering an enemy.  The word “trust” (a synonym for faith and belief) implies an almost passive reliance or resting. What is most mysterious, however—-and amazingly gracious—is the fact that when, in the heat of the battle, we confess, “I do believe!” and we humbly ask, “Help me overcome my unbelief!, the Lord answers!  He gives the very virtue he requires!

Result?  Against all odds. we are enabled to believe that Jesus can do the impossible that confronts us.