At Mass tonight, the Gospel reading from the lectionary features a story that has been a favorite of mine for years - the account of Christ on the road to Emmaus from Luke. This pivotal passage has played an instrumental role in my spiritual journey for the past 22 years and continues to uniquely strengthen my faith. In reflecting upon the significance of this passage, I want to explore the importance of Scripture, the Eucharist, and Christian fellowship in our own faith journey, drawing on key elements of this powerful story.

Encountering Christ in Scripture

In Luke's Gospel, the story of the road to Emmaus portrays Jesus engaging in a transformative conversation with two of His disciples. As they walked together, the disciples were deep in conversation, trying to make sense of the recent events surrounding Christ's crucifixion and the empty tomb. Jesus, unrecognized by the disciples, began to teach them about the Scriptures, starting with Moses and the prophets. In doing so, He revealed how the Old Testament scriptures pointed to Him as the Messiah (Luke 24:25-27).

"Christ is the goal of the Law and the Prophets: they all looked forward to His coming and announced it; and He interprets them and is their fulfillment."

This encounter teaches us that by immersing ourselves in Scripture, we can deepen our understanding of Christ and allow our hearts to burn within us as we grow in faith. As believers, we should strive to approach the Word of God with open hearts, seeking the guidance of the Holy Spirit to illuminate our understanding and transform our lives.

"As they were walking, He opened for them the Scriptures, which they had read, and He explained the prophecies, which they had heard, but had not understood."

The Power of the Eucharist

In this story, the disciples' eyes were opened to recognize Christ during the breaking of bread (Luke 24:30-31). This revelation in the context of a shared meal highlights the importance of the Eucharist, a sacrament at the heart of Christian worship. The Eucharist serves as a vital means to encounter the risen Christ, affirming His presence in our lives and strengthening our connection to Him.

Through this sacrament, we experience Christ's presence and grace in a tangible way, fortifying our faith and fostering a deeper connection to the Church as the body of Christ. As we partake in the Eucharist, we are reminded of Christ's sacrifice and the transformative power of His love, which sustains us on our spiritual journey.

"Let us break bread with the Lord, and He will make Himself known to us in the breaking of bread, as He did to the disciples at Emmaus."

Christian Fellowship and Worship

The account of the road to Emmaus also emphasizes the importance of Christian fellowship and worship. The disciples initially invited Jesus to stay with them, and through their shared meal and conversation, their faith was strengthened. As we actively engage in communal worship and partake in the Eucharist, we can draw strength and encouragement from our brothers and sisters in Christ.

"It is in the company of the saints, gathered in fellowship, that we come to know Christ and experience His presence, just as the disciples did on the road to Emmaus."

These experiences help us cultivate a deeper relationship with Christ and empower us to serve as witnesses to the transformative power of the Gospel. Through our involvement in the Church community, we can support and encourage one another as we navigate the joys and challenges of our faith journey together.

A Balanced Approach to Faith

The road to Emmaus story demonstrates the interconnectedness of Scripture, fellowship, and the Eucharist as essential elements of the Christian faith. By placing these elements at the heart of our own faith journey, we can cultivate a deeper relationship with Christ and be empowered to share the Good News with others.

It is crucial to strike a balance between the study of Scripture and active participation in the Church's worship and sacramental life. By engaging with both aspects of our faith, we can experience the fullness of Christ's presence and be better equipped to live out our calling as His disciples

"While Christ converses, their souls were on fire; such was the power of the words He spoke to them."

Embracing the Lessons of the Road to Emmaus

As we continue our faith journey, let us strive to emulate the disciples' experience on the road to Emmaus by immersing ourselves in Scripture, participating in the worship of the Church, and partaking of the Eucharist. In doing so, we will draw closer to Christ, experience the burning of our hearts, and be equipped to share the Good News with those around us. This balanced approach to our faith will not only deepen our relationship with Christ but also help us become more effective ambassadors of His love and grace in the world.

"Just as the disciples at Emmaus recognized the Lord through the breaking of bread, so too are we to recognize Him in the fellowship of believers and the celebration of the Eucharist."

Furthermore, let us remember the importance of sharing our encounters with the risen Christ with others. In a world that is often filled with confusion and despair, our testimonies can serve as powerful tools to spread hope, love, and the saving message of the Gospel. As we testify to the transformative power of Christ in our lives, we can encourage others to seek Him and experience the life-changing impact of His love.

Living on the Road to Emmaus

The road to Emmaus story offers us a beautiful and powerful reminder of the importance of Scripture, the Eucharist, and Christian fellowship in our faith journey. By immersing ourselves in the Word of God and actively participating in the worship of the Church, we can experience the presence of Christ in our lives and grow in our relationship with Him.

"When we gather together to listen to the Word of God, we experience the same joy as the disciples on the road to Emmaus, for Christ Himself speaks to us through the Scriptures." - St. Basil the Great, On the Holy Spirit

Let us take inspiration from the disciples' encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus and continue to seek Him in every aspect of our faith journey. In doing so, we can experience the burning of our hearts as we grow closer to Christ and be equipped to share His love and grace with the world around us.

In the stillness of this evening, I was granted an uncommon respite from the demands of parenthood. As I tucked my daughter into bed and my wife attended to her work, I found myself enveloped in a serene quiet, interrupted only by the gentle presence of our two beloved canine companions. In this moment of solitude, I began to meditate on the sublime beauty and profound significance of the Psalms in my life, as they have steadily served as a fount of solace and guidance.

As I sat in contemplation, I found myself drawn to a Psalm that has long held a cherished place in my prayer life - the Sunset Psalm, Psalm 104 (103 in the Septuagint). In the Orthodox Church, this Psalm is recited during every Vespers (evening prayer), and I often find myself whispering these words, either audibly or in the quiet of my heart, on many an evening. The Psalms possess a remarkable ability to ingrain themselves into our memory and our souls, always standing ready to offer comfort and wisdom like a steadfast companion.

Throughout my spiritual journey, I have discovered that different Psalms resonate with me in distinct emotional states and life circumstances. For instance, upon awakening, I recite Psalm 103 (102 LXX); when besieged by stress, I turn to Psalm 143; and during moments of despair or repentance, Psalm 51 (50 LXX) provides solace. In times of gratitude, Psalm 138 (137 LXX) assists me in articulating my thankfulness. While this list could continue indefinitely, these examples serve to illustrate the profound impact the Psalms have on my spiritual odyssey.

"The Psalms teach us how to pray and how to offer up our supplications to the Lord.” - St. Isaac of Syria

As I journeyed across the Bosphorus and Tiber, immersing myself in the liturgical life of my new home within the Anglican Tradition, I discovered familiarity in the deep commitment to the Psalms as a central pillar of prayer. The presence of the entire Psalter in the Book of Common Prayer filled me with joy, as it is read through in its entirety each month during Morning and Evening prayers.

The practice of reading through the Psalter has long been a part of the liturgical life of the Church. St. Benedict of Nursia considered the Psalms the very core of the Divine Office, organizing the Psalter in such a way that Benedictine monks would recite all 150 Psalms within a week. This tradition is upheld in the Orthodox*, Catholic, and Anglican Churches through the use of the Anglican Breviary.

In the monumental task of creating the Book of Common Prayer, Thomas Cranmer recognized the challenge faced by both monastics and laypeople in praying the full daily office. Thus, he simplified the seven hours of daily prayer into Morning and Evening prayers, crafting an approachable daily prayer cycle for all the faithful. Through the practice of Morning and Evening prayers, we read the Psalms in their entirety each month, not to mention the Psalms interspersed throughout the prayers, Eucharist service, and other liturgical offerings.

As St. Jerome reminds us, "By singing the Psalms, we join our voices with the angels and the saints who have gone before us.” The Psalter, the collection of Psalms, has served as a prayer book for the Church since its earliest days. When the Apostles prayed the hours in Acts (10:3, 9; 15:25), they prayed the Psalms. St. John Chrysostom asserts that, “By praying the Psalms, we chant the very words which Christ used, and we conform our hearts to His." Jesus quotes five Psalms throughout the Gospels of Sts. Matthew and John, demonstrating the closeness of the Psalms to His own heart, even as He cried out Psalm 22 on the cross (Matthew 27:46).

"In the Psalms, we find the very heart of Christian prayer." - St. Bonaventure

The Psalms offer a wealth of beauty to us as Christians, providing us with the words to pray when we may struggle to articulate our own thoughts, connecting us to the countless faithful men and women who have gone before us, and instructing us in the art of prayer. For, as Richard Hooker so eloquently stated, the Psalms "are the very heart and soul of devotion, as they teach us how to pray and how to lift up our hearts to God.”

I recently purchased a scripture journal of the Book of Psalms. As I read through the Psalter, I've been taking notes, reflecting, and meditating on them during my prayers this Lenten season. I'm finding something new in many of the Psalms and drawing closer to Christ.

In our quiet moments of reflection, let us turn to the Psalms as a source of solace, wisdom, and spiritual nourishment. By engaging with this ancient and sacred collection of prayers, we forge a connection not only with the divine but also with the innumerable generations of believers who have found comfort and guidance in the Psalms. In this way, we participate in a timeless and unbroken tradition of prayer, joining our voices with the chorus of saints, angels, and fellow seekers who have discovered the transformative power of the Psalter.

* During Lent, the Orthodox Church prays through the Psalms twice a week.

Sarah’s character and faith were going to be put through several severe tests over the course of her marriage, trials that would include long years of travel, homelessness, risk to her life and to her honor, turmoil in her home, even internal soul-searching.

As middle age became old age, the heavy burden of truth bowed both Sarah’s shoulders and her will. Finally, she capitulated to the Law of Ur-Nammu’s clause, and offered her husband a surrogate to have their child. Yet God had so much more planned for Sarah! In a jaw-dropping twist to the tale, the Lord infused new vitality and whole new chapters into what would have ordinarily been the last, golden years of Sarah’s story. From barren to birthing nations, from contentious to courtly, at ninety years old, Sarah’s life had only just begun.

I Background on Sarah

II Betrayal of Marriage Vows

III Bad Decisions

IV Baby Isaac

Through Sarah’s story we remember that our culture and law does not look to God but to earth for answers. Often, living out our faith will look foolish and impractical through the eyes of our culture. But Faith in God requires resisting cultural and social pressures.

Often fear is what drives us to be faithless—fear that is translated into self-protective ways. Often, faith will require us to live out integrity and fidelity even though it feels unsafe, trusting that God will prevail and be glorified in the end. Faith in God requires faithfulness to God and to others and Faith in God requires trusting God, God’s word, God’s timing, and God’s ways, God’s character and attributes, who God is, God’s love and faithfulness.

Finally, Sarah and Abraham both learned that The Lord values and honors every person who puts their faith in God.

Each video is designed to offer background scholarship on the topic, including setting, culture, original language, and archaeology, as well as a theological study.

The “Broken, Searching, Trusted, Powerful” series is a companion to the book, available on Amazon, and published by Wipf and Stock.

Those who have read my blogs over the years know that I semi-frequently make references to my university professor, Stan Harstine, a Gospel of John scholar who profoundly shaped my way of interpreting scripture. A number of his teachings and various theories he presented for us to mull over have made their way into my posts, and even more linger around in my brain. My favorite of these theories is that the beloved disciple who wrote John is, in fact, Lazarus, not John. This, then, would account for why, in John 21, Peter turns back and shows odd concern about how the beloved disciple would die. It could just be that he was having normal feelings of comparison toward John, knowing him to be beloved, but it just makes so much more sense to me that he and the disciples would have had extra curiosity about what would happen to those like Lazarus who were raised from the dead.

But one thing that Harstine suggested to us has become an absolute burr under my saddle, so to speak. It is that, when Jesus wept, it was not because he was mourning for Lazarus. It wasn’t even because he was entering into Mary and Martha’s grief and empathizing with them.

It was because of the Jews.

(A bit of housekeeping before we start: I should just say that I am by no means purporting that this is the only valid interpretation of this story. It well could be that Jesus was feeling empathy for Mary and Martha, or that he was feeling real human grief for his friend, or even that he was troubled by the crowd’s unbelief. But I’m probably going to sound pretty assertive as I make my point, because, well, I just get fired up about it, and I really like this interpretation. So have fun with it, read different interpretations, and see what the Holy Spirit might have to tell you about Jesus.)

Now then.

A bit of background will be necessary here. The Gospel of John was written sometime around AD 70, the final form being completed sometime between AD 90 and 110. The impetus for writing this book was the destruction of the second temple. At that time, the Jews were thrown into despair, because their only place to meet with God and the center of their culture was taken from them. The author of John then wrote this book in order to plead with the Jews that it did not matter that the temple was destroyed. That is because Jesus is where they could meet with God, and God was calling them into a new kind of culture.

Thus, the Gospel of John is structured like a court case. The person on trial is Jesus, and the verdict will be whether or not he is God. The author, our defense attorney, calls up seven witnesses, those witnesses being seven carefully selected miracles which Jesus performed, and he presents them in increasing order of undeniability. These are the miracles in John:

1. Turning water into wine; John 2
2. Healing the Royal Official's Son; John 4
3. Healing the paralytic at the pool; John 5
4. Feeding over 5,000 with fish and loaves; John 6
5. Walking on the water; John 6
6. Healing a man born blind; John 9
7. Raising Lazarus from the dead; John 11

Along with the increasing attention that these miracles garnered came increasing hostility from the Jews. Now, in the case of the Gospel of John, various individuals and groups of people are presented archetypally, so you know what to expect from them whenever they show up “on stage.” Women and those with disabilities are generally presented as more spiritually perceptive and accepting of Jesus than able-bodied men. The disciples follow Jesus with gusto, but are often shown to lack understanding and staying-power. The reversal of this is that men like Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who were initially weak in following Jesus and feared man’s disapproval, were actually the ones who were willing to identify with him publicly after his execution, even going so far as claiming his body from the authorities and giving him a proper burial.

Which brings us to the Jews. In the Gospel of John, the term “the Jews” is meant to represent an archetype of person, not the historical reality of every Jewish person. The term represents those who thought they were right with God because of their ethnicity, their tradition, and, ultimately, their self-made righteousness. These were the people who were supposed to know God, but, instead, they willfully blinded themselves to the works and person of God when he rolled onto the scene. Thus, nearly any time the Gospel of John uses the term “the Jews”, we can know that these are people who are actively opposing and misreading Jesus.

So as the works of Jesus become more and more undeniable throughout the book, the Jews become more and more hostile toward him. We can trace the evolution of this hostility with a few verses:

John 2:18: So the Jews said to him, “What sign do you show us for doing these things?”

John 5:18: This is why the Jews were seeking all the more to kill him, because not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God.

John 7:1: After this Jesus went about in Galilee. He would not go about in Judea, because the Jews were seeking to kill him.

John 10:31: The Jews picked up stones again to stone him.

Which brings us to John 11.

Mary and Martha send word to Jesus that their brother, Lazarus, is sick. After two days, Jesus tells his disciples that they must go to Judea, to Lazarus. And the disciples immediately reply, Jesus, what are you thinking? They want to kill you. But Jesus is determined. Why? Because he knows that they will not believe that he is God unless he demonstrates his power over death (John 11:14-15).

This is important. In the synoptic gospels, Jesus raises people to life earlier on in his ministry, and not much is made of it. But in the Gospel of John, the structure of events is crucial (pun intended). All of these events are building up the case for why Jesus, in the eyes of the Jews, had to go to the cross. At this point in the story, Jesus has not yet demonstrated his power over death. And if, as he says, his raising of Lazarus is going to be the thing that leads his disciples into belief, it is also going to be the thing that pushes the Jews over the edge of their unbelief and ignite their plot to kill him.

And, even if the disciples don’t understand all the reasons behind it, they still pick up on this. Jesus says, Let's go, and Thomas turns to the other disciples and says, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” Going to raise Lazarus is a suicide mission.

So we see Jesus arrive in Bethany, and he meets with Martha. Martha says, “If you had come, my brother would not have died,” and Jesus tells her that Lazarus will rise again. Then, Jesus calls Mary to himself, and the Jews who had been consoling her follow her out to him. Mary says to Jesus the same thing that Martha did. And then Jesus sees Mary weeping and the Jews weeping, and we’re told he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.

Now then, this is where we’re given a few important details, and a concordance is of great use. Let’s look at these terms, “deeply moved” and “greatly troubled.”

If you’re reading in your ESV (I’m not sure about in other versions), you will see a footnote on the term “deeply moved,” indicating that the term could also be “indignant.” The Greek word used is embrimaomai, which Strong’s Concordance says literally means to snort with anger. The other uses of the word in the NT generally involve Jesus becoming very stern. It’s also used to describe those who scolded the woman for anointing Jesus. This suggests that the underlying emotion Jesus is feeling at this point is anger, not grief or empathy.

Then we have “greatly troubled,” this word, tarasso, means to become agitated, distressed, restless, etc. Elsewhere in the NT it is used to describe how Herod felt when the magi show up asking for the king of the Jews, the Jews troubling gentile Christians over circumcision, and, most importantly, it is used to describe two other times in John how Jesus is feeling leading up to his betrayal and crucifixion. Once again, does this sound like someone who is overwhelmed by emotion because of his dead friend or those who are hurting, or does this sound like someone who is starting to feel a certain dread rising in his spirit?

At this point, Jesus asks, “Where have you laid him?” And they tell him to come and see. It is then that Jesus weeps.

Why? It’s not because of empathy for those who are grieving. We just saw that seeing them weep made Jesus angry and anxious, not moved to pity.

And it’s not because he was grieving for Lazarus. How do we know that? Well, for one thing, Jesus knew he was just about to raise Lazarus, and had referred to him as having only “fallen asleep.” At no point before now has Jesus seemed troubled on Lazarus’ behalf. And if you needed a nail in the coffin of that theory, when Jesus weeps, the Jews look on him and exclaim, “See how he loved him!” The Jews say that. The archetype of people who, in this story, can always be relied upon to miss the point.

So why does Jesus weep?

Because he knows the significance of what he’s about to do. This is the act that will push people off the fence. He knows that, as John 11 goes on to say, many of the Jews will believe in him because of it, but that other Jews will report this to the Pharisees, and they will gather together to set the plan to kill him in motion. It is at that time that Caiaphas, the high priest, unwittingly prophesies that Jesus will die on behalf of the nation. And not just the nation, but in order to bring all of God’s children who are far off into one family (John 11:52). We are then told that Jesus no longer walked openly among the Jews, and that the Passover was at hand. And we all know what happened at the Passover.

So, at that moment, Jesus asks where Lazarus has been laid, and the Jews tell him to come and see. He looks to the Jews, he looks in the distance toward the tomb, and the significance of what he’s about to do washes over him. It’s a suicide mission.

And he weeps.

Now then, why is this a burr under my saddle? Why does it bug me so much when people use this story to illustrate how Jesus grieves with those who grieve?

Well, for one thing, it annoys me because I think it’s just plain inaccurate. I care a lot about biblical literacy and also just about literacy. It’s important to know how to read well! And it’s important to know when you’re bringing your own biases into the text, rather than mining its significance to see what it has to say for itself. I don’t think I would be so annoyed if I didn’t have the sneaking suspicion that a lot of people who think this is a passage about Jesus empathizing think that's the case because they just read their English version at face-value and assume that their first associations with those words are what is meant.

I want us to guard against this haphazard way of interpreting scripture. If you want to study the passage with excellence and end up with a different conclusion than mine - great! Please do! I would be foolish to completely discount the expositions of teachers like Matthew Henry (you can read his alternative interpretations of Jesus’ actions and emotions here), who obviously know more about the scriptures than I do. I admit there are a number of potentially valid interpretations, some of which are that Jesus was just empathizing or grieving. But what I am trying to say is let’s not have our default for interpreting Roman-era Greek scriptures be our face-value, culturally and personally biased understandings of a modern English translation, especially when there are so many tools easily at our disposal (I often use Blue Letter Bible) that can help illuminate the difference between what words mean to us versus what words meant to biblical authors. Let's handle the scriptures well, and do the work to "keep a close watch over the teaching" (1 Timothy 4:16).

For another thing, I think when we do these face-value interpretations we sell ourselves short on what scripture has to offer. If you want a passage about Jesus empathizing with our struggles, there are several you could point to: the number of times that Jesus had compassion on the crowds, when he raises the widow’s son in Luke 7, his defense of the disabled woman in Luke 13, his anger toward those who might cause children to stumble in Matthew 18, Jesus as high priest in Hebrews 4, and just, like, all of Matthew 11. Furthermore, you could point to all of the Old Testament prophetic literature talking about God’s tenderness toward his people.

But John 11 might not be the passage to talk about that. Instead, it could be the passage to point out that Jesus faced very real fear and anxiety. It could be the passage to say, look, Jesus got annoyed too! But, more importantly, I think that John 11 fits into the theme emphasized throughout John: at every instance, Jesus was in control, and he chose to go to the cross. He didn’t have to get baptized and accept God’s commission. He didn’t have to let the soldiers arrest him. He (hilariously, in my opinion) knocks them flat on their bottoms with a word before saying he won’t resist arrest. He does nothing to defend himself before the High Priest or Pilate. He even gives up his own spirit on the cross. Nothing that happened was beyond his control. He could have stopped it all. He could have walked away. But he felt all of that fear and anxiety, he set his face as a flint (Isaiah 50), and he chose to go.

Maybe I have a burr under my saddle because I want to invite us into something. Maybe, instead of comforting ourselves with the idea that Jesus empathizes with us, I desperately want us to take some time to empathize with him. Who is this Jesus that we follow? Why do we love him? What did our Savior feel?

So I want you to imagine this with me again: Jesus standing there, Mary in front of him, weeping. The Jews, whom he knows the hearts of, weeping. The tomb lying some ways off. And he gets agitated, maybe because of their unbelief, maybe because he knows what’s going to happen next. But he asks them where friend is laid, and they tell him to come and see. And he pauses. He draws in a breath. He thinks about how everything he’s done so far has led up to this moment. His nerves tense, already anticipating the pain to come. He thinks about how one friend will betray him, and most of the others will abandon him. Images flash across his mind of being stripped, beaten, mocked. His lungs grow tight. He sees what his mother’s face will look like, looking at her son hanging on a cross. He thinks about that moment, when he will give up his spirit and commit himself to his Father’s hands. This is it. The point of no return. If he goes to the tomb, it’s all over. This was always going to be a suicide mission.

He exhales, and his body begins to shake. The tears start to flow, and he weeps.

This is our Jesus.

We don’t often talk about the story of Puah and Shiphrah, though their story is one of courage and mettle, standing together against forces of evil seeking to destroy a nation. We’ll first take a look at where they lived, the country of Egypt, then explore the career they entered into, and how their life and work prepared them for God’s call when it came.

Egypt was old by the time this story takes place. Theirs was a magnificent culture, military might, technological advances, great art and sophisticated society. In fact the pyramids were probably showing some signs of aging when Jacob moved his clan, at Pharaoh’s invitation, to the land of Goshen.

It’s difficult to tell when in history this happened. However, counting backwards from Solomon’s temple, and working with the research presented in “Exodus: Myth or History,” brings us to a period of time when a Semitic people called the Hyksos began to settle in Egypt and eventually rose to power in the delta portion of Egypt. The Hyksos, called the Shepherd Kings, ruled in northern Egypt for around 200 years and built their capital city in Goshen. During this same time Jacob and his family settled in Goshen, where they became very wealthy and

the Israelites were fruitful and prolific; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them.

Exodus 1:7 (NRSV

It seems Joseph had risen to power in the court of Amenemhat III, and Joseph’s clan came to find favor with the Hyksos Pharaohs.

Later, a new Pharaoh rose to power, named Thutmosis I. Over the course of about ten years he managed to drive out the Hyksos and reclaim Egypt. Many scholars think this is the king of Exodus 1.

Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.

Exodus 1:8 (NRSV)

And so our story begins!

I Country of Egypt, Exodus 1:1-14

Difficult circumstances do not prevent God’s blessing

II Career of Midwifery, Exodus 1:15-16

God equips those whom God calls

III Calling of God, Exodus 1:17-22

God honors those who reverence the Lord

Each video is designed to offer background scholarship on the topic, including setting, culture, original language, and archaeology, as well as a theological study.

The “Broken, Searching, Trusted, Powerful” series is a companion to the book, available on Amazon, and published by Wipf and Stock.

The story of Potiphar’s wife is all wrapped up with the story of a foreign teenaged boy whose jealous brothers had stripped him, thrown him into a pit, and eventually chose to sell him into slavery rather than murder him. After marching naked and in shackles for endless miles to Egypt, not knowing their language or customs, this bedraggled seventeen-year-old ended up in her household as one of her husband’s forced laborers.

The story of Potiphar’s wife:

I Success of Joseph, Genesis 39:1-6

II Seduction by Potiphar’s Wife, Genesis 39:7-20

III Salvation Received, Salvation Rejected, Genesis 39:21-23

Through her story we can learn that God’s blessing is the revelation of God’s goodness and God’s love. When we conduct ourselves honorably, our honorable deeds glorify God, and that will count far more than slander and false accusations.

And ultimately, when we find ourselves at the crossroad of temptation, the path of life and the path of death, the habits formed by daily faith, daily reverencing God and honoring others, will carry weight when we feel the tug in our hearts, when we find desire looks like life, and denial looks like death. By God’s grace, unlike the tragic figure of Potiphar’s wife, we can choose life.

Each video is designed to offer background scholarship on the topic, including setting, culture, original language, and archaeology, as well as a theological study. The “Broken, Searching, Trusted, Powerful” series is a companion to the book, available on Amazon, and published by Wipf and Stock.

The story of Jairus’s daughter and the woman who suffered from a bleeding disorder are told together in all three of the synoptic gospels—the gospels that more or less track with each other, Matthew, Mark, and Luke.

I am going to be teaching out of Mark’s gospel, who has the most detailed account of these two stories. I believe this to be a true story, but it is a story that also reveals startling truths Jesus was teaching his disciples, revealing to the crowds of people who followed him, and driving home to the religious elite.

Through the stories of Jairus’s daughter and the woman with the bleeding disorder, we learn that

Jesus’ response to faith is to release the power of his grace.

When you and I feel we are at the bottom of the barrel, Jesus is saying “I have established a new kingdom without ranking systems. I respond to all who came to me in faith.” For Jesus has proven his mighty power over all evil, over every other power, even the power of death itself. Jesus is showing that no person is beyond his tender compassion and no circumstance is beyond his scope.

Each video is designed to offer background scholarship on the topic, including setting, culture, original language, and archaeology, as well as a theological study.

The “Broken, Searching, Trusted, Powerful” video series is a companion to the book, available on Amazon, and published by Wipf and Stock.

There is some debate as to whether the book of Esther is historical, or possibly written as a play or allegory. Haman’s seventy-five foot gallows, the difficulty in establishing which king—and more notably, which queen—Esther’s story describes, and the depiction of a few unlikely scenes such as a massive, three-day civil war which is completely absent from Persian sources, move many scholars to suggest Esther is a dramatized story.

That said, I am going to treat the story as it is presented. Whether this is dramatized history, or historicized drama, the author was seeking to convey something important about the grand narrative of heaven and earth. Haman is the depiction of evil, Esther and Mordecai portray the best of God’s own people. Vashti is the dignity of the surrounding nations, and Xerxes displays the dangers of worldliness and power.

We are going to see that God prepares Esther for a pivotal role in saving the nation in Esther 1-2. Then, we will watch the development of Haman’s evil plot and Esther’s wise plan in Esther 3-7. We will end with the first joyful festival of Purim in Esther 8-10

I God Prepares Esther, Esther 1-2

II Haman’s Plot, Esther’s Plan, Esther 3-7

III Purim, Esther 8-10

Through Esther’s story, we learn that true beauty is found in a humble spirit, that God’s deliverance, though sure, involves taking risks of faith, and that the Lord is faithful to keep to keep God’s covenant with God’s people

Each video is designed to offer background scholarship on the topic, including setting, culture, original language, and archaeology, as well as a theological study.

The “Broken, Searching, Trusted, Powerful” video series is a companion to the book, available on Amazon, and published by Wipf and Stock.

Herodias’ story is introduced in both Mathew’s gospel and Mark’s with Herod Antipas hearing reports about Jesus’ astonishing miraculous powers.

Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” Mark 6:14-16 (NRSV)

In spite of others’ reassurances to him about Jesus, Herod was sure it was John the Baptist risen from the dead—the implication being, in haunting judgment of having been executed by Herod.

And so the dark and dreadful tale begins of intrigue, seduction, manipulation, and murder, all swirling around the Hasmonean princess and Judean noble, Herodias.

Listen in on this twenty minute tale that explores the world of Herodias, how she came to be who she was, and how the Lord was also at work. We’ll look at Herodias’ story in four parts:

I Background and Ambitions

II Bitter Rage

III Blocked Goals and Unfulfilled Desires

IV Blessing Lost

Along the way, we’ll hear from Moses, James, and Jesus, who teach us that

“The Lord is slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, forgiving”

Restoration begins when we

“Welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.”

The sobering truth made plain in Herodias’ life is that

In God’s judgment, God will often allow sin to run its course

But there is always a path that leads back to God, to restoration and life, for

Those who lose their life for Jesus’ sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.

Each video is designed to offer background scholarship on the topic, including setting, culture, original language, and archaeology, as well as a theological study.

The “Broken, Searching, Trusted, Powerful” video series is a companion to the book, available on Amazon, and published by Wipf and Stock.

As Rahab stood in the foothills of Canaan, watching Jericho burn, she was seeing everything she knew, her whole life, and what should have been her story, going up in smoke. But for the grace of God….that would have been her.

She may have wondered to herself, so many years later, “How is it that God saved me? How is it that my life story took such an unexpected, wrenching, and yet ultimately beautiful turn, loved as I am by God, and by God’s, people, and by this amazing man Salmon, who has given me these precious sons and daughters?”

I wonder if she was alive when Boaz was born. Even if she wasn’t, I feel sure her story was told to her great grandchildren, and her great great grandchildren, as families will do.

I Rahab, Person and Profession, Joshua 2

II Rahab, Profession of Faith, Joshua 2

III Rahab, A Portrayal of Salvation, Joshua 6

Listen to a story of unshakeable faith, knowing fear is the enemy of faith, and that God redeems the stories of every person who puts their faith in God through Christ!

Each video is designed to offer background scholarship on the topic, including setting, culture, original language, and archaeology, as well as a theological study.

The “Broken, Searching, Trusted, Powerful” video series is a companion to the book, available on Amazon, and published by Wipf and Stock.

I’ve had a few conversations with people this year about the song ”Mary Did You Know?” and it’s been interesting to hear how others feel about the song. I’ve never really been a fan, namely because of how overly sentimental it feels to me, but this year I gave some thought to the meaning behind the song.

So What’s Wrong With It?

Okay, I’m not going to throw everything out and say that some how Mary knew each and every thing that would happen throughout Christ’s life. When songwriter Mark Lowry asks if Mary knew ”that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?” or “that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?” or ”that your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?”, that’s valid theological speculation. We don’t really know if Mary knew those things. She could have been prophetic and foresaw some of those miracles that Christ would perform or maybe not, we’ll never know. But we do know that Mary had knowledge of the great power that Christ possessed as witnessed in the Gospel story of the wedding feast at Cana. When they ran out of wine for the feast, it was Mary who went to Christ to turn the water into wine.

Those questions aside, I do take issue with some of the other questions that songwriter Mark Lowry asks. Questions like, “did you know that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?”, “did you know that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod? When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?” These questions are outside the bound of theological speculation and land straight into a bad understanding of who Mary is and her relationship to God and her son.

Let’s just look at what the Archangel Gabriel told her whom he called full of Grace and pronounced the Lord was with:

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Luke 1:30-33.

Gabriel made it pretty clear who Jesus was to anyone knowledgable of the Scriptures. Since Mary was a faithful Israelite who had been taught the writings of the prophets, Mary knew what the angel meant. And these weren’t things she forgot. The nativity story in Luke tells us that “Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart” Luke 2:19. At Christ’s birth and as He grew, she knew He was God.

Why do I care?

Mary is a saint I hold near and dear to my heart. As a young Evangelical, I dismissed the Mother of God and outright attacked her. To me, she was just another woman, nothing special, just an instrument of God. He could have chosen anyone. That’s not the whole story. Mary is a normal person, just like you and me, but she’s also so much more. She’s is extraordinary; despite the fact God could have chosen anyone, He didn’t - He chose Mary. She devoted herself fully to God, remained faithful to Him and gave her only son up to be crucified before her very eyes. As an aside here, I’ll make note that Mary was more faithful than 10 of the disciples who had fled in fear from the crucifixion. She was the first Christian as she literally accepted Christ into her body. She was faithful when all hope seemed lost. She serves as an example of what faith in Christ should look like.

What we teach about Mary is also direct reflection of what we teach about Christ. When we call Mary the Theotokos (God-bearer or Mother of God), we are calling her that because Christ is both fully God and fully man. She gave birth to God through the Incarnation. We call Mary the second Eve because, just as Eve chose to sin and thus ushered death into the world, Mary said yes at the Annunciation and brought forth life into the world. We call Mary “more spacious than the Heavens” because she contained the God who all of creation could not contain within her womb. Just as she did during her life, everything about Mary continues to point to Christ, to call us to her Son.

When we diminish Mary, who she is or her knowledge of what she agreed to, we begin to diminish who Christ is. Without a doubt, Mary knew she kissed the face of God, she knew who Christ was and what His birth meant, both for her and for all of humanity.

With that, I join the angel and St. Elizabeth in singing, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”

Update and post script:

For another great perspective, check out Tony Breland’s article Mary did you know? Of course she did.

_{This article was originally written for LiveOrthodoxy.com and published in December of 2016.}

I love Christmas, I honestly do, but I this year I find myself reflecting on what Christianity is America is losing. I’m not talking about Keeping Christ in Christmas or the War on Christmas we now hear every year, but instead of an oversimplification of the Nativity and downplaying of the Incarnation of Christ.

This time of year is my favorite; everyone seems a bit more cheerful, we hear words like peace, love, and joy come into more conversations, we see decorations and lights, and I love Christmas hymns. The fast forces me to slow down and contemplate what Advent means and reorients my mind to, like the Israelites of old, begin to expect Christ again, in my everyday life and for His Glorious Second Coming. Last weekend, my wife and I went to the Christmas Train, a tradition here in Tulsa put on by a local church, with our daughter Ellie, the in-laws and Ellie’s godmother. While riding the train and seeing the story of salvation history and the life of Christ told over the speakers as we paced art depictions, I was left thinking of what Christmas lacks, or, more appropriately, what our observations have lost in America.

It would be easy to talk about the secularization of the birth of Christ, it’s hard not to notice it everywhere we go, but that’s not what I was thinking about then. It’s true that most movies we watch on TV follows a storyline where the protagonist/protagonists have a warm and fuzzy revelation at the end that Christmas isn’t about what we get or what we want, but instead is about love, family, giving, charity, sharing, etc. That’s society’s view, but the Christian world should be held to a higher standard, one that, in my general observation, isn’t happening. This is starkly contrasted to the understanding of the Church; just look at what St. Gregory of Nyssa writes on the nativity:

The very Son of God, older than the ages, the invisible, the incomprehensible, the incorporeal, the beginning of beginning, the light of light, the fountain of life and immortality, the image of the archetype, the immovable seal, the perfect likeness, the definition and word of the Father: he it is who comes to his own image and takes our nature for the good of our nature, and unites himself to an intelligent soul for the good of my soul, to purify like by like.

The Christmas Train

The purpose of the Christmas Train is to share the greatest story ever told, right? You can see that from their website. While there, they had carolers dressed in Victorian era attire singing. What a wonderful opportunity to sing carols about Christ, carols like O Come, O Come Emmanuel, O Holy Night, Joy to the World, We Three Kings or any of the many other carols and hymns that proclaim the birth of Christ. Instead, while we were there, we heard Let It Snow and Jingle Bells. At an event that ticketed as Christian, I had expected more. The hymnography in both the Christian East and West is so rich and devotional, invoking us to set our minds on so much more, not focused on the sounds of bells on the street. I’ve heard they sing other songs as well, but this my observation, not only here, but at other predominantly Evangelical Christmas events.

I know that may not seem like a big deal to everyone, as I’ve heard “It’s just fun,” but something did strike me as odd and a huge deal. As we were on the train, we heard about Adam and Eve, the fall and the prophets leading up to the life of Christ. Then Christ was born, grew up, was beaten, crucified and raised again. Nowhere were we told why. The voice on the speaker said it was “for us,” but there was no reason given. Why did Christ have to die?

The more disturbing omission to me was the lack of any mention of the Incarnation. Christ was called the “Son of God,” but again, no context. This is something that is becoming a bigger and bigger issue. The Virgin birth is important, but Who was born is so much more crucial to understanding our relationship to God.

The awe-inspiring mystery of the Nativity

The Church teaches us that if Christ had not been fully God and fully man, we’d have no salvation. Christ humbled Himself from His place in Heaven, condescended as the second divine person of the Holy Trinity and the Eternal Logos took on humanity, took on flesh, took on matter so He could redeem the world. Let that sink in for a minute, even if this is something you know, honestly reflect upon that reality. God became human and, when He ascended back to Heaven, to sit at the right hand of the Father, He ascended in the flesh, taking humanity into heaven.

God chose Mary, a young girl to bear the God of heaven, to contain within her womb the uncontainable God who made her more spacious than the heavens and become the Theotokos, the Mother of God. These are important doctrinal beliefs for Christianity, not because of what they say about Mary, but because of what it ultimately means for who Christ is.

This was such a crucial event that the heavens were altered and offered a start to lead the Magi to Christ. The angels came in a glorious chorus to proclaim the glad tidings of Christ’s birth. What else could cause such a great cosmic disruption throughout the created universe?

St. John Chrysostom teaches us that we should:

Think not, therefore, it is of small things you are hearing, when you hear of this birth, but rouse up your mind, and straightway tremble, being told that God has come upon earth. For so marvelous was this, and beyond expectation, that because of these things the very angels formed a choir, and on behalf of the world offered up their praise for them, and the prophets from the first were amazed at this, that “He was seen upon earth, and conversed with men” (Baruch 3:37) . Yea, for it is far beyond all thought to hear that God the Unspeakable, the Unutterable, the Incomprehensible, and He that is equal to the Father, has passed through a virgin’s womb, and has vouchsafed to be born of a woman, and to have Abraham and David for forefathers.

The Incarnation is a pivotal moment in salvation, and human, history. St. Maximos the Confessor puts it this way, “This is the great and hidden mystery…Therefore, for Christ and in the mystery of Christ, all the ages and all things in them received their being and purpose.” Everything in history was building to this point. Why? Because, according to St. Maximos, “The Incarnation took place for the salvation of nature.” Without the Incarnation, we have no salvation.

My Christmas focus

So here’s what Christmas means: God became man, of His own free will and out of love for humanity, as Christ and laid in the arms Mary as a helpless babe. Christ united humanity to God, not by some bridge over a cavern as we see depicted in religious tracts, but in His very person!

For the past couple of weeks, our priest has said, “All I want for Christmas is to love God as God loves us.” That’s my Christmas prayer, along with seeking to remain in awe of the great cosmic mystery of Christ’s birth and incarnation.

It’s that time of year again, people are preparing for Christmas. Everyone seems to be in such a hurry, shopping and buying gifts, office Christmas parties, parties with friends…the list of distractions go on and on. With so much busyness in the world around us, we all need to take an opportunity to step back and slow down.

I find it sad that Advent and the “Christmas Season” have become so commercialized. As a society, we’ve lost our focus and forgotten why this time of year is celebrated. This is nothing new; dating back to the 17th century, Christmas revelries became so rampant that England and Puritans of New England actually outlawed the celebration of Christmas.

We fast, we pray, we read the holy scriptures and Fathers, we sing hymns of the season to help us keep our bearings in the tempest of the world. We are called to keep our focus, much as the Magi did, on the star, directing our hearts to the cave to greet the Christ child and celebrate the beauty of the Incarnation. I love to give gifts and share the love that God has bestowed on us with friends and family, but I, like many others I assume, have to remind myself to offer my gifts to Christ, to bring my proverbial gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the manger. And it’s a great time to receive gifts from God, gifts like forgiveness through the mystery of repentance/confession.

I know it’s hard to keep our focus, but it’s something we should be continually readjusting our minds and hearts to do. I plan to spend the next 3 weeks reflecting on the words of the 9th Ode from the Orthodox Orthros/Matins service:

I behold a strange and wonderful mystery: the cave a heaven, the Virgin a cherubic throne, and the manger a noble place in which hath laid Christ the uncontained God. Let us, therefore, praise and
magnify Him.

May we all find the true joy of the season as we celebrate the miraculous birth of Christ, God becoming man through the Incarnation as we meet our Lord at the cave.

Of the Father's Heart Begotten is a Christmas hymn based on the poem "Corde natus ex parentis" from the late 4th - early 5th century poet Prudentius and provides quite a deep theological reflection on the Trinity and the birth of Christ.

Each stanza of this hymn ends with the words "Evermore and evermore!", words that stand as a reminder that Christ's work through His Incarnation, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension, though often taken for granted today, is just as relevant to us as they always have been.

While we do live in a world that Christ has redeemed, we as Christians know this isn't the end we've been promised; we await Christ's glorious and triumphant return! With that in mind, the words of the prophets in the Old Testament and the longing of the Israelites should ring true to us, should be our hope and longing.

This is He Whom seers in old time
Chanted of with one accord;
Whom the voices of the prophets
Promised in their faithful word;
Now He shines, the long expected,
Let creation praise its Lord,
Evermore and evermore!

The coming of Christ is our focus throughout our Advent journey, and "Of the Father's Heart Begotten" contains the hope, the joy, and the mystery of the Incarnation, which is at the heart of all that we do as Christians.

Let us reflect and be watchful, as Sts. Symeon and Anna the Prophetess were, always watchful, looking for the coming Christ with the faith they had that they would see him, so that we may share in their joy on both Christmas and at Christ's return as we join with Prudentius and the countless Christians through the years with our own "Amen."

Of the Father's love begotten
ere the worlds began to be,
he is Alpha and Omega
he the source, the ending he,
of the things that are, that have been,
and that future years shall see
evermore and evermore.

O that birth forever blessed,
when a virgin, blest with grace,
by the Holy Ghost conceiving,
bore the Savior of our race;
and the babe, the world's Redeemer,
first revealed his sacred face,
evermore and evermore.

This is he whom seers in old time
chanted of with one accord,
whom the voices of the prophets
promised in their faithful word;
now he shines, the long-expected;
let creation praise its Lord
evermore and evermore.

Let the heights of heaven adore him;
angel hosts, his praises sing:
powers, dominions, bow before him
and extol our God and King;
let no tongue on earth be silent,
every voice in concert ring
evermore and evermore.

Christ, to you, with God the Father
and the Spirit, there shall be
hymn and chant and high thanksgiving
and the shout of jubilee:
honor, glory, and dominion
and eternal victory
evermore and evermore!
Amen.

This is, by far, my favorite Christmas carol, especially during the seasons of Advent. It captures so well the longing Israel had, waiting in a darkened world for the light that would save them. Historically, it was also a time to anticipate the second coming of Christ.

There’s a third as well. The third, according to St. Bernard of Clairvaux in his “The Three Comings of Christ,”

...lies between the other two. It is invisible, while the other two are visible. In the first coming he was seen on earth, dwelling among men; he himself testifies that they saw him and hated him. In the final coming all flesh will see the salvation of our God, and they will look on him whom they pierced. The intermediate coming is a hidden one; in it only the elect see the Lord within their own selves, and they are saved. In his first coming our Lord came in our flesh and in our weakness; in this middle coming he comes in spirit and in power; in the final coming he will be seen in glory and majesty….Because this coming lies between the other two, it is like a road on which we travel from the first coming to the last. In the first, Christ was our redemption; in the last, he will appear as our life; in this middle coming, he is our rest and consolation.

If you keep the word of God in this way, it will also keep you. The Son with the Father will come to you. The great Prophet who will build the new Jerusalem will come, the one who makes all things new. This coming will fulfill what is written: As we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, we shall also bear the likeness of the heavenly man. Just as Adam’s sin spread through all mankind and took hold of all, so Christ, who created and redeemed all, will glorify all, once he takes possession of all.

As we focus on these two themes, we’re reminded of just how amazing Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection really are, and anticipate his return. We all live in a time when these monumental events are viewed as something in the past, but the liturgical year, like Advent, give us an opportunity to live with Christ, to experience Him and the history of salvation, but Advent gives us something here and now to see, and something to look forward to.

Before the Incarnation, the Israelites cried, “Come, O Lord,” and their prayers were answered. As I remember the Incaration during Advent, we remember Christ is Emmanuel, “God with us.”

As a Christian Church, we join together and pray, “Come, O Lord,” looking for the glorious return of Christ and the coming joy of the world to come.

Today, we can each as, “Come, O Lord,” asking Christ to be with us now, endowing us His grace and salvation. Christ meets us where we are, each and every day a new. Christ’s coming isn’t something we have to look long into the past for or wait for, but we can experience now.

Let us turn to Christ as our rest and consolidation and, during this season, make this our deep, heartfelt prayer:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny;
From depths of hell Thy people save,
And give them victory o'er the grave.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Dayspring, from on high,
And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come
And open wide our heav'nly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Adonai, Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times didst give the law
In cloud and majesty and awe.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.