Jesus provides six kegs for a drunken party.

John 2.6-11.

Continuing the story from yesterday. Yes, I’m aware this article has a provocative title. But read verse 10: The wedding planner pointed out you don’t serve wine like this when the guests are good and drunk, because they wouldn’t appreciate it. Indicating they were good and drunk.

Every time I’ve written about or taught on this passage, I run into someone who insists Jesus did not make wine. There’s a popular claim among Christian churches which don’t drink alcohol (and I’m part of the Assemblies of God, which is a whole denomination which doesn’t approve of alcohol) that Jesus actually made “new wine.” Because it’s new, they say, it hasn’t had the chance to be fermented. Ergo it’s actually grape juice.

If you’ve never heard that interpretation before, great! Me, I didn’t hear it till adulthood, and I’ve found it’s all over the place. It’s even wormed its way into children’s books.

From a children’s book in which Jesus turns water into “juice.”

This spin on the story makes no logical sense—for two reasons.

First, if the guests had only been drinking grape juice this whole time, how would they be insensible to how good Jesus’s “juice” is? Wouldn’t they easily be able to tell? I mean, if I’ve been drinking one of those 10-percent-juice drinks which are mostly pear juice with grape flavor added, and you swap it with 100-percent-grape-juice Welch’s, I’m gonna know. Even though I’m no grape-juice connoisseur.

Second, the bible brings up “new wine” multiple times, and in no way is it a reference to grape juice.

Hosea 4.11 KJV

Whoredom and wine and new wine take away the heart.

By “heart,” Hosea meant the part of us we think with; really the mind. Now, in what way does grape juice dull the mind? True, it’s full of sugar, and it’s a little hard to focus when you’re full of sugar… but one’s mind isn’t gone in the same way as when horniness or alcohol seize a person.

Matthew 9.17 KJV

Neither do men put new wine into old bottles: else the bottles break, and the wine runneth out, and the bottles perish: but they put new wine into new bottles, and both are preserved.

If you’ve ever made wine, you probably know wine bottles don’t break in the fermentation process, which is precisely why winemakers use ’em. The translators of the KJV apparently didn’t know squat about winemaking, and ἀσκοὺς/askús actually means “wineskins,” not “bottles.” And old wineskins could burst when wine fermented further. But they’d need to be somewhat fermented in the first place… i.e. they’d need to be wine, not grape juice. Jesus also points out the old wine is better than the new stuff, Lk 5.39 indicating he and the people of his culture preferred the fermented stuff. Which ain’t grape juice.

Acts 2.13 KJV

Others mocking said, These men are full of new wine.

In context this verse is about the apostles speaking in tongues on the first Pentecost. Some recognized the tongues as their own foreign languages, and some mocked and said the apostles must’ve been drinking. Drinkng grape juice? Clearly not, and Simon Peter points out it’s too early in the morning for anyone to be drunk Ac 2.15 —and how can you be drunk on grape juice?

Nah. As the children’s book makes clear, some Christians have been indoctrinated with this “Jesus made juice” idea for as long as they can remember, and think it’s true because of course they would. How often do people seriously question something they’ve heard all their lives? (Not enough, obviously!)

Likewise there’s a popular interpretation that first-century Jews watered down their wine: They didn’t drink pure wine, but a mixture of 50 percent water and 50 percent wine. Or 90 percent water and 10 percent wine; just enough wine to kill bacteria, because you couldn’t trust water back then. Watering down wine in order to party longer was a pagan Greek practice, and these folks assume Jews did it too. But nope; it’s also rubbish. Partly because these wedding guests in this story got drunk; plus there are all those admonitions in the bible to watch out for wine because it’ll get you drunk, so there was clearly something which required people to watch out!

Jesus made actual wine. Stuff just as fermented, just as strong, as the stuff Jews regularly drank at parties. Better quality of course; betcha it didn’t taste like feet at all. (Hey, no feet had ever touched it!) When God provides, he doesn’t provide inferior stuff or pathetic substitutes. We do that; we get stingy, and figure people don’t deserve the best… and should be happy to get anything, including inferior substitutes. God doesn’t think that way at all, and neither should his kids.

Jesus’s mom asks his help.

John 2.1-5.

The next town over from Jesus’s hometown of Nazareth, about 4 kilometers away, was Cana. (Today Kfar Kanna is a suburb of Nazareth.) It’s not close enough for the two towns to share a synagogue, ’cause the rabbis declared you could only travel 2,000 cubits (i.e. 1km) from and to your home on Sabbath. But it’s still walking distance; it’s still close enough for the towns to share resources, get to know one another, and even intermarry.

Intermarriage is probably why Jesus and his mom were invited to the wedding in this story: I suspect they were related to the bride. It’s the only way Mary’s take-charge behavior in this story really makes sense; she’d have to be family.

I don’t know how they were related to the bride. She could be Jesus’s sister or aunt or cousin or even grandmother. Some folks even think Mary herself was getting remarried… but then it’d make no sense for Jesus to later put her in the care of one of his students. Jn 19.26-27 Jesus was in his 30s, Lk 3.23 which means it’s entirely possible for him to have a sibling with a 13-year-old daughter, and you might actually get married at that age back then, so the bride could even have been Jesus’s niece.

If it weirds you out to think of Jesus having such family members—as if he only ever had a mom and dad and that’s all, ’cause of the nativity crêches—the bible mentions his family multiple times. They were good people. His brothers James and Jude even wrote books of the New Testament.

Conspiracy theorists (and some Latter-day Saints) even speculate this was Jesus’s wedding; that he was the groom, and all the bridegroom metaphors throughout the New Testament are kinda pointing back to Jesus’s literal wedding to some Galilean girl. Thing is, the text clearly says Jesus ἐκλήθη/eklíthi, “is called,” to the wedding—and the groom back then wasn’t summoned to the wedding; he hosted the wedding. The groom’s not a passive participant, like western weddings nowadays.

Plus the groom obviously lived in Cana. First-century Israeli wedding celebrations took place at the groom’s house. The families would agree long in advance for their kids to get hitched. (Some Christians claim they’d sign a marriage contract, but that’s a medieval tradition, not a first-century one.) The groom would either own, buy, or build a house, and prepare it for his bride to live there; then he’d gather his friends and family, and they’d march to the bride’s house to get her. The bride’s family and friends would then go with her to the groom’s house, and they’d party.

No, not have a wedding ceremony. The Jews didn’t do ’em till the 19th century—and at the time it was wealthy Jews who wanted to have a ceremony like Christians did, so they swiped our tradition and added Jewish elements. Good, meaningful elements; but they’re 19th-century traditions, not first-century. But various naïve Christians and Messianic Jews don’t know this, and try to claim, “Wow, look how much Jewish wedding customs parallel the marriage supper of the Lamb!” Rv 21 Well of course they do; they got ’em from us! We Christians borrowed heavily from the marriage supper of the Lamb idea to create our traditions. But the Christian traditions come first, not the Jewish ones.

Jesus meets Nathanael.

John 1.43-51.

You recall after Jesus met Andrew and Philip, Andrew was so impressed by Jesus he went and brought Jesus his brother Simon, whom Jesus named Peter. But Andrew wasn’t the only eager evangelist in the pair; Philip went and brought his friend Nathanael to Jesus.

Nathanael appears twice in John, and therefore twice in the bible. He’s from Cana, Galilee; Jn 21.2 a village a few clicks away from Nazareth, so he knows Nazareth, and certainly isn’t impressed by it. Likewise isn’t impressed when Philip suggests he’s found Messiah… and Messiah’s from Nazareth of all places.

Because Nathanael is obviously a regular Jesus-follower, and because Christians are under some weird misconception that Jesus had only 12 regular followers (when he so obviously had more, including two guys who were just as qualified to become apostles as the Twelve Ac 1.21-23), they’ve tried to meld Nathanael together with one of the Twelve. Historically that’s been Bartholemew, because in the lists of the Twelve, Bartholemew and Philip get lumped together, and historians think they ministered together, both before and after Jesus’s rapture. Bartholemew is our translation of ܒܪ ܬܘܠܡܝ/bar Tulmay, “son of Talmai,” and since that’s not Bartholemew’s proper name, the argument is Nathanael was his proper name; he’d be Nathanael bar Talmai, or “Nathanael-Bartholemew,” as some Christians call him. But there’s no actual evidence Nathanael and Bartholemew are the same guy. Just some ninth-century Christian who had a theory, and it got popular.

All we know about Nathanael is what Jesus testified about him: He’s Israeli, and he’s really honest.

John 1.43-51 KWL

43 The next day Jesus wants to go to the Galilee,

and finds Philip and tells him, “Follow me.”

44 Philip is from Bethsaida,

from the city of Andrew and Peter.

45 Philip finds Nathanael and tells him,

“I found the man

of whom Moses writes about in the Law,

and the Prophets write about:

Jesus bar Joseph,

the man from Nazareth.”

46 Nathanael tells him, “Out of Nazareth?

Can anything good be from there?”

Philip tells him, “Come and see.”

 

47 Jesus sees Nathanael coming to him,

and says about him, “Look!

Truly an Israeli in whom there’s no deceit.”

48 Nathanael tells him, “From where do you know me?”

In reply Jesus tells him, “Before Philip called you,

when you were being under the fig tree,

I saw you.”

49 Nathanael replies, “Rabbi, you’re God’s son.

You’re king of Israel.”

50 In reply Jesus tells him,

“Because I tell you I saw you under the fig tree,

you trust me?

You’ll see bigger things than this.”

51 Jesus told him, “Amen amen, I promise you all:

You’ll see the sky has opened up,

and God’s angels are going up and coming down

upon the Son of Man.”

Jesus meets Simon Peter.

John 1.40-42.

After John the baptist had pointed Jesus out to two of his students, Andrew and Philip, the kids followed Jesus, who turned round, recognized their zeal, and decided right there to have them on his team. When they asked Jesus where he was staying, middle eastern hospitality kicked in, and Jesus invited them to stay with him the rest of the day. Jn 1.39

It being the 10th hour of the day (around 4:30pm), and Jewish days ending at sundown, there was only an hour or two left of the day. It may mean Jesus invited them for an overnight stay—it was too late for them to go home without getting mugged—which meant hours of talking about God with the Son of God himself. Or he shooed them out of the place right after sundown so they could get home, but the hour or two they spent with him was just enough for them to realize Jesus is the real deal.

Either way, it got one of the students, Andrew, to go get his brother Simon and bring him to Jesus. Both these young men were looking for Messiah, and Andrew was entirely sure that’s exactly who Jesus is, so of course he brought Simon to him to see for himself. That’s what you’d do, isn’t it?

John 1.40-42 KWL

40 Andrew, brother of Simon Peter,

is one of the two students heeding John the baptist

and following Jesus.

41 This student first finds his own brother Simon,

and tells him, “We found Messiah!” (i.e. Christ).

42 Andrew brings Simon to Jesus.

Looking him over, Jesus says, “You’re Simon bar John.

You’ll be called Kifa” (i.e. Peter).

So here’s where the author of John introduces us to Peter—and tells us Jesus is the one who named him that. Well, named him ܟܐܦܐ/kifá, Aramaic for “a stone, a rock; a stone vessel, stone column, stone idol, or precious stone.” John transliterates that into Κηφᾶς/Kifás (adding the -s ending you’d find in Greek names), and apparently plenty of Greek-speakers knew him by that name; Paul included, who calls him Kifás more than once. 1Co 1.12, 3.22, 9.5, 15.5, Ga 2.9 But John likewise identifies him by the Greek translation of his name, Πέτρος/Pétros, which also means “a stone, a rock.”

I have heard various Christians claim the female variant of pétros, πέτρα/pétra, means a big rock… and pétros meant a small rock, like a pebble. Unfortunately, I believed this garbage and taught it myself. It’s bunk. Besides, Jesus didn’t name him Pétros; he named him Kifá. The Aramaic/Syriac word usually means one of those big giant rocks you take refuge under, Jb 30.6 or build great things on top of.

This, folks, is why it’s important to know historical context as well as grammatical: Even though John was written in Greek, understand Jesus wasn’t speaking and teaching in Greek. It’s why John includes Aramaic words (like “Messiah”) and their translations. Assume everything happened in the Greek language, and you’ll assume Jesus did give Simon a nickname meaning “pebble.” Understand the background, and you’ll realize Jesus intentionally meant “a stone, a rock.”

Jesus wasn’t giving Simon an ironic or humiliating nickname. We do that. Preachers who think it’s funny and harmless to mock their friends, and not at all a character deficiency, do that. Jesus doesn’t trash-talk his followers. He saves the mockery for evil, and proud, unrepentant evildoers.

Jesus’s first two students.

John 1.35-39.

Honestly, the gospel of John doesn’t line up with the other gospels, which we call synoptics ’cause they often share the same point of view. John wasn’t really meant to: The author had likely read the other gospels, or at least Luke; and was filling in all their blank spots. So when the synoptics make it sound like Jesus first gathered his students in the Galilee, John corrects that: Jesus met ’em in Judea. John the baptist actually sent him his first two.

John 1.35-37 KWL

35 The next day John, and two of his students,

were standing in that place again.

36 Looking at Jesus walking by,

John said, “Look, God’s lamb!”

37 John’s two students heed what he says,

and follow Jesus.

The word μαθητής/mathitís, “student,” is regularly translated “disciple.” And plenty of Christians have the false idea that a disciple is somehow different from a student. A disciple, they claim, has a deep relationship with their teacher. They’re not just trying to learn from their master; they wanna be just like their master, like an apprentice. They wanna adopt the master’s lifestyle, not just their teachings. And other such profound-sounding rubbish.

Yeah, rubbish. Because any student can become huge fans of their teacher and try to mimic them in all sorts of ways. I saw it in college with my fellow students; I saw it in my own students when I became a teacher. Some students get endlessly fascinated with their teacher’s personal lives, and wanna know what makes them tick. They’re still trying to figure out their own personalities, and figure this is the guy to emulate. Sometimes they’re right. Sometimes not!

In fact, there are all kinds of student-teacher relationships. Sometimes they’re all about academics, sometimes lifestyle, and sometimes a little of both. Sometimes teachers think, “I want successors, and that’s what I’m training,” and sometimes all we’re thinking is, “They need to know this stuff,” and nothing more. Certain teachers covet eager, worshipful pupils, and are jealous of other teachers who have ’em; they wanna be worshiped. Some of these relationships are very healthy; some are sick ’n twisted.

But saying, “A disciple is different from a student,” is rubbish. They’re synonyms.

And John and Jesus’s students were seeking religious instruction. They were products of the first-century Judean culture, in which religious kids sought a master, a רַ֣ב/rav, who’d teach them how to follow God, and be a devout Pharisee. (Or Samaritan, or Qumrani. Sadducees weren’t so worried about it.) So they sought a scribe who knew his bible, knew the Law and how to interpet it.

And if you were particularly fortunate, your rav would also be a prophet, filled with the Holy Spirit who spoke to ’em personally. Who might even grant you the Spirit, and now you could hear God. Wouldn’t that be awesome? (Forgetting, of course, people back then were in the nasty habit of killing prophets. But hey—hearing God!)

So when John identified Jesus as God’s lamb, you know his students immediately thought, “Well if John hears God, but John says this is the guy…” and off they went.

John the baptist’s testimony about Jesus.

John 1.29-37.

Some Christians like to say Jesus’s baptism is in all four gospels. Actually it’s not. The gospel of John never actually says Jesus was baptized.

Seriously; read the text. John says he saw the Holy Spirit descend upon Jesus—and the other gospels say the Spirit did that after Jesus came up out of the water—but in the gospel of John, John the baptist never says what was happening at the time. Never says he was in the middle of baptizing people, much less Jesus. Never says.

Because that’s not important to John the baptist. Identifying Jesus as the Lamb of God, is.

Here’s the text again, ’cause you probably won’t believe me. Feel free to compare it with other translations. None of ’em are gonna say, in this gospel, that John baptized Jesus. His baptism’s in the other three gospels. Not this one. And the apostle John probably didn’t include it because it’s in the other three gospels.

John 1.29-37 KWL

29 The next day John sees Jesus coming to him,

and says, “Look, God’s lamb, which takes up the world’s sin.

30 This is the one of whom I say,

‘The one coming after me has got in front of me,’

because he’s before me.” Jn 1.15

31 And I hadn’t known it was him!

But I come baptizing in water for this reason:

So that he might be revealed to Israel.

 

32 John gives witness, saying this:

“I had seen the Spirit, who descends from the sky like a pigeon,

and he had remained on Jesus.

33 And I hadn’t known it was him!

But the one who sends me to baptize in water,

that person tells me,

‘Upon whomever you might see the Spirit descend

and remain upon him,

this is the one who baptizes in the Holy Spirit.’

34 And I had seen this,

and had borne witness that this is God’s son.”

 

35 The next day John, and two of his students,

were standing in that place again.

36 Looking at Jesus walking by,

John said, “Look, God’s lamb!”

37 John’s two students heed what he says,

and follow Jesus.

John the baptist’s ministry, in 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯.

John 1.6-8, 15, 19-28.

In Matthew and Luke’s gospels, John the baptist comes across as—shall we say—hostile towards the religious folks who come to check him out.

Luke 3.7-9 Message

7 When crowds of people came out for baptism because it was the popular thing to do, John exploded: “Brood of snakes! What do you think you’re doing slithering down here to the river? Do you think a little water on your snakeskins is going to deflect God’s judgment? It’s your life that must change, not your skin. 8 And don’t think you can pull rank by claiming Abraham as ‘father.’ Being a child of Abraham is neither here nor there—children of Abraham are a dime a dozen. God can make children from stones if he wants. 9 What counts is your life. Is it green and flourishing? Because if it’s deadwood, it goes on the fire.”

To be fair, John was dealing with nationalists, people who presume they’re part of a righteous nation (or wanna make that nation “great again”) and that’s why God’s gonna bless and save them. They figured they were saved by virtue of being Abraham’s descendants. Lk 3.8 They figured they had nothing to repent of—and John’s baptism is all about repentance. It’s all about being good, not just looking good.

Hence John called ’em snakes. (Aramaic ܐܟ݂ܶܕ݂ܢܶܐ/akedna, Greek ἐχιδνῶν/ehidnón, “[poisonous] snakes”; KJV “vipers.”) It’s intentionally meant to remind people of Satan. Nationalists figure they’re righteous, but regularly act devilish, because nationalism is usually racist and definitely devilish. The Judeans who came to John felt they had nothing to repent of—and John’s baptism is entirely about repentance.

But that’s the other two gospels. In John’s gospel, he comes across quite different. No it’s not a discrepancy. Real-life people aren’t two-dimensional! Sometimes we behave differently, depending on circumstances. Maybe this happened way earlier in John’s ministry, before he became jaded by myriads of hypocrites who accepted his baptism but never got any better. Maybe because these Pharisees, unlike the other Pharisees, actually weren’t hypocrites and legitimately wanted to know what John was about. Maybe they caught him on a really good day, when he’d found plenty of bugs and honey to eat, and the camelhair clothes finally stopped being itchy. I dunno.

In any event here’s how John says John the baptist greeted the folks sent to investigate him.

John 1.19-28 KWL

19 And this is John’s testimony,

when the Judeans of Jerusalem send priests and Levites out to him

so they could ask him, “Who are you?”

20 John is in agreement with them,

and does not resist them,

and agrees with them: “I’m not Messiah.”

21 They ask John, “So… what, are you Elijah?”

He says, “I’m not.”

“Are you the Prophet?”

He answered, “No.”

22 So they say, “Who are you?—

so we can give an answer to those who sent us.

What do you say about yourself?”

23 John is saying, “I’m

‘a voice crying out in the wilderness:

Straighten the Master’s path!’ Is 40.3

like the prophet Isaiah said.”

 

24 Those who’d been sent were Pharisees,

25 and questioned John, and told him,

“So why do you baptize,

if you’re not Messiah nor Elijah nor the Prophet?”

26 John answers them, saying, “I baptize in water.

In your midst, one has stood among you.

You’ve not known him.

27 [He is] the one coming after me,

[who has got in front of me].

I’m not worthy to loose his sandal strap.”

28 These events happen in Bethany-beyond-the-Jordan,

where John is baptizing.

In my previous article I discussed the three guys from the Pharisees’ End Times timeline whom John said he wasn’t—Messiah, Elijah, and the Prophet—and how Jesus himself later confirmed John actually is Elijah. Mt 17.10-13 Not literally; John’s a prophet like Elijah, and he fulfills every single End Times prophecy about Elijah—and if any present-day End Times prognosticator claims Elijah is yet to come, they evidently don’t respect what Jesus says on the matter. Only Jesus has yet to return. Elijah already has.

The word became flesh.

John 1.14-18.

Historically we Christians have had the darnedest time translating and explaining this passage. While it’s written in really simple Greek, it’s deep. It’s profound. It tells us the word of the LORD, the Son of the Father, God of God, God from the Father’s womb (usually translated “bosom” like the KJV, because human fathers don’t have wombs, and any language which gives God feminine qualities tends to creep out certain preachers), the one-who-comes-after-me who’s really the one-who-came-before-me, grace and truth personified, the visible image of the invisible God Cl 1.15—became flesh.

Flesh. Meat. Blood and bone and muscle and tissue and nerves and fluids. An animal. Yet God.

People still find this idea alarming. Even blasphemous. I keep coming across pagans who insist God cannot be mortal. God can’t bleed. God can’t die. God can’t suffer from the same limitations as humans; he’s gotta be mightier, if not almighty, or he’s not really God. Or no longer God; he got banished from heaven like Thor from Asgard in his first movie, and lost his powers till he gets ’em back with good karma. (Wait, didn’t Satan get banished from heaven? Meh; nevermind.)

It’s why heresies keep cropping up to claim Jesus isn’t really flesh. He only appeared to be human, but peel off his human mask (eww) and you’ll find a God under it. He only looked like meat and bone, but he’s really an immortal spirit. He only looked real and physical, but he’s really a mass hallucination which confused the whole world, or at least his parents, siblings, those 12 guys who kept following him around, the Romans who killed him, and the senators who put him in a tomb. He only looked like a man, but was a superman, demigod, alien, hybrid, or new superior species. You know, the usual new-agey bulls--t.

But nope, he’s human. Fully, permanently human. And God.

John 1.14-18 KWL

14 The word becomes flesh and encamps with us,

and we get a good look at his significance—

significance like we’d see in the only begotten son of a father,

full of grace and truth.

15 John witnesses about the word,

and has called out, saying,

“This is the one of whom I say,

‘The one coming after me has got in front of me,’

because he’s before me.”

16 For all of us receive things out of the word’s fullness.

Grace after grace:

17 The Law, which Moses gave;

grace and truth, which Christ Jesus comes to be.

18 Nobody’s ever seen God.

The only Son, God who’s in the Father’s womb

this one explains God.

Once we accept the light.

John 1.9-13.

The apostle John described Jesus as the light of life, and says in 1.9 that he’s coming into the world. Not everybody accepts him—even his own people, the Israelis, don’t—but in today’s passage he states those who do accept him, Israelis included, become God’s children.

John 1.9-13 KWL

9 The actual light, who lights up every person,

is coming into the world.

10 He’s in the world, and the world comes to be through him,

and the world doesn’t know him.

11 He comes to his own people,

and his own people don’t accept him.

12 Whichever of them do accept him,

he gives to them, to those who believe in his name,

the power to become God’s children.

13 These people aren’t children by blood,

nor by carnal desire, nor by a man’s desire,

but are begotten by God.

Which was a mind-blowing idea for Pharisees of the first century, who figured they already were God’s children. They figured God had made them his children by befriending Abraham, rescuing Israel from Egypt, giving them his Law, shepherding them through history… Israelis still think they’re God’s children just because they defied the odds and established the state of Israel 75 years ago.

But nope; John states it here pretty clearly. Everybody has the potential to become God’s children; Jews and gentiles alike. But only those who trust the light—trust Jesus, in case you forgot who this “light” metaphor represents—are granted the power to truly become God’s children.

Because we’re not automatically his children just because we’re human. That’s a common idea which plenty of pagans will insist upon: God’s the creator and we’re the creation, so God’s our father and we’re his daughters and sons. Automatically. We automatically have a relationship with him; we’ll automatically go to heaven because of it. Even if we spend our entire lives wanting nothing to do with him, refusing to believe in him, worshiping any and every other god there is, inventing our own gods for fun and profit, even deliberately defying him and being as evil as we can just to show off our autonomy. Pagans might make an exception for truly evil people… but then again they might not, because they believe so very strongly that God’ll save everybody, regardless.

Nope. God wants to save everybody, 1Ti 2.4 but like John the apostle said, it’s whichever of us who do accept the light—again Jesus.

And lemme reiterate: Light, in this passage, means Jesus. Yes, elsewhere in the bible light means other things. Like truth and wisdom. And yes, Jesus is truth, Jn 14.6 and Jesus is wisdom. 1Co 1.24 But don’t mix the metaphors. In accepting the light, we accept Jesus.

Yes, we oughta accept truth and wisdom too, ’cause there are way too many brain-dead Christians out there who believe all the dirty lies and stupid beliefs their favorite preachers and pundits tell them, and won’t even practice basic discernment because they think they’re saved by orthodoxy, not God’s grace. They think they’re saved by trusting all the proper beliefs about Jesus, instead of trusting Jesus. They think all that other stuff is the light because they’ve mixed their metaphors. And y’notice, in so doing, they stop trusting Jesus, and trust their own wisdom, and made-up “truths,” instead. You can tell by their fruits; they get bad because they lose sight of whom they’re meant to be following. That’d be Jesus.

Not for nothing does John point out Jesus’s own people didn’t accept him. Because they figured they had truth and wisdom already; because they figured they were God’s children already. Christians today tend to get the very same attitude. We think, like first-century Judeans, we have the light; we know so much, and we said the sinner’s prayer and were baptized, and we’ve memorized tons of bible verses and Christian pop songs, and “once saved always saved.” We trust all that crap—’cause without Jesus, it’s all crap. We leave the Sermon on the Mount undone, because we trust that crap instead of Jesus.

Pretty dark stuff.

Light.

John 1.4-9.

I brought up the apostle John’s use of “word” in John 1, and of course the other metaphor he uses a whole bunch in this passage is light.

John 1.4-9 KWL

4 What came to be through the word, is life.

Life’s the light of humanity.

5 Light shines in darkness,

and darkness can’t get hold of it.

6 A person came who’d been sent by God;

his name is John.

7 This person came as a witness,

so he might witness about the light,

so through him, everyone might believe.

8 This person isn’t the light,

but he came so he might witness about the light.

9 The actual light, who lights up every person,

is coming into the world.

The word of God—i.e. the second person of the trinity, whom we know as Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ—created life in verse 4, and John immediately started calling this life “light.” Then said Jesus is the actual light coming into the world in verse 9. As Jesus himself claimed later in this gospel, twice: “I’m the light of the world.” Jn 8.12, 9.5 He comes to give us life. Abundant life in this age; eternal life in the next.

Now lemme remind you the bible is not a series of codes for clever Christians to crack. “Light” is a metaphor for life in this passage. It doesn’t mean life in every passage. When other writers of the bible refer to light, they mean other things. Even when the apostle John refers to light in his first letter, and says God is light, 1Jn 1.5 he’s not using this metaphor anymore. He’s using a different one; in that passage light means truth. And yet various Christians will insist the “truth” of 1 John isn’t simply a metaphor; it’s a definition of the secret bible codeword φῶς/fos, “light”—and so is “life,” so let’s blend the two concepts together to create some freakish gnostic chimera and claim it’s bible knowledge. And turn the light into darkness.

Word!

John 1.1-5.

I’ve written previously about when God became human. Now let’s look at God before he became human. Beginning with the beginning of the Gospel of John.

John 1.1-5 KWL

1 In the beginning is the word.

The word’s with God,

and the word is God.

2 This word is in the beginning with God.

3 Everything comes to be through the word,

and not one thing, nothing, comes to be without him.

4 What came to be though the word, is life.

Life’s the light of humanity.

5 Light shines in darkness,

and darkness can’t get hold of it.

“The word” which the author of John wrote of, exists at the beginning of creation. Is with God. Is God. And is the means by which everything is created.

And round 7BC, this word became a human we know as Jesus of Nazareth. Christians recognize him as the Christ.

Why’d the author of John (and for convenience we’ll just assume he’s John bar Zebedee; he probably is) use “word” to describe the pre-incarnate Jesus? You realize this passage is the reason so many Christians are hugely fascinated by the word “word” (and its Greek equivalent λόγος/lóyos, which they mistransliterate logos and pronounce all sorts of ways; and sometimes its Aramaic equivalent ܡܐܡܪܐ/memrá), and have written endless things about the Word of God. Some of it is extremely profound and useful… and some of it is sour horsepiss. I grew up hearing a lot of both.

This John passage tends to get translated in past tense. The KJV famously renders it, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Which is fine; the beginning of time and creation of the cosmos did happen in our past. But most of this passage was written in the aorist tense, a verb tense which is neither past, present, nor future. It has no time connected to it. You have to figure its time from other verbs in the passage, or from context. Well, there is a verb in this passage with a time-based tense; the present-tense ἦν/in from καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος/ke Theós in o lóyos, “and the word is God.” He is God, present tense. God at creation, and never stopped being God.

Okay, now to the concept of λόγος/lóyos. It literally means “word.” Why’d John use it?

For centuries, Christians presumed lóyos comes from ancient Greek philosophy. Blame ancient gentile Christians. As non-Jews, they had no idea what Pharisees taught about the lóyos of God—or as the Aramaic-speaking Pharisees called it in Jesus’s day, the memrá of God. They usually figured whatever the Pharisees taught was wrong, hypocritical, and heresy, so they ignored it altogether.

Instead they interpreted bible through the lens of their own culture. Which was wrong then, and is wrong now. Yet Christians still do it. But that’s a whole other rant; let’s get back to criticizing ancient Christian gentiles.

Ancient Greek philosophers had written a whole bunch of navel-gazing gibberish about the word lóyos. ’Cause they were exploring the nature of truth: What is it, how do we find it, how do we prove it, how do we recognize logical fallacies, and what’s the deal with words which can mean more than one thing? For that matter, what’s a “word” anyway? Is it just a label for a thing, or is it a substantial thing on its own? Maybe that’s why God can create things by merely saying a word. Ge 1.3 And so on.

Follow the Greek philosophers’ intellectual rabbit trails, and you’ll go all sorts of weird, gnostic directions. Which is exactly what gentile Christians did.

Now let’s practice some actual logic. John wasn’t a gentile; he was a Galilean Jew who grew up attending, and getting the equivalent of a middle-school education in, Pharisee synagogues. So let’s look at that culture: What’d Pharisees teach about what a memrá is and means?

Turns out Pharisees had a lot of interesting ideas attached to it.

Jesus’s genealogy, in 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘸.

Matthew 1.1-17.

Christ Jesus has two different genealogies. I dealt with it elsewhere, so if the contradiction (or “difficulty,” as Christians prefer to call biblical contradictions) makes you anxious, go read that piece. Today I just want to look at the genealogy in Matthew, ’cause the author of that gospel decided to begin with it, ’cause he considered it important. And away we go.

Matthew 1.1 KWL

The book of genesis of King Jesus, son of David, son of Abraham.

Other translations are gonna have “Christ Jesus” or “Messiah Jesus.” Mostly because they’re going for literalness; the Greek word is Χριστοῦ/Hristú, “Christ,” which itself is a translation of מָשׁיִחַ/Mašíakh, “Messiah.” But a literal translation isn’t always the best one.

Culturally, to first-century Israelis, Hristós doesn’t merely mean “an anointed guy.” It means king. It’s a title of the king of Israel—who was, if everything had gone as it shoulda, anointed by the LORD to rule his people, same as Samuel ben Elkanah had anointed Saul ben Kish and David ben Jesse. We Christians claim Jesus was anointed by God, same as those guys, to rule Israel. And the world. So Christ isn’t merely Jesus’s last name, nor does it signify he’s a religious guru. It means he’s our king. Our only king; human kings are usurpers and false Christs, and every last one of them has got to go. Even the nice ones. Especially the ones who claim they’ve come in Christ’s name.

Pharisees had readied first-century Israelis with tales of a Messiah who’d conquer the world. If the prophecies about him meant what the Pharisees claimed—and the Pharisees weren’t wrong, were they—this’d be the guy who finally threw out the hated Roman occupiers, established Israel’s independence, then went forth to conquer a ton of territory and establish a new Israeli Empire. One even better than the Roman Empire, ’cause now it wouldn’t be run by dirty gentiles. Now gentiles would be the second-class citizens in their new Empire. Semite supremacy!

Yeah, there was a lot of nationalism and racism wrapped up in Pharisee ideas about Messiah. Unfortunately that’s still true in popular interpretations about Jesus’s second coming. But I digress. Distorted perspectives aside, “King” is still the best interpretation of Hristú.

And though Jesus is a literal descendant of both David, the third king of Israel, and Abraham ben Terah, the ancestor of the Arabs, Edomites, and Israelis, the more important thing is Jesus is the fulfillment of their relationships with the LORD. Without Abraham’s faith in the LORD these people-groups wouldn’t even exist, much less be monotheists who pursued a living God instead of ridiculous pagan myths. Without David’s loyalty to God, the LORD wouldn’t have responded with any promise to make one of his descendants the greatest king ever. There’s a lot of theological baggage in Matthew’s simple verse.

There’s a fair amount of baggage in the rest of the genealogy too.

Warnings when persecution comes.

Mk 13.9, Mt 24.9-13, Lk 21.12-19.

In his Olivet Discourse, Jesus warned his students what’d happen before, as he predicted, the Romans destroyed the temple in the great tribulation in the year 70.

But fearful Christians insist this passage isn’t at all about ancient Jerusalem, but our future: A seven-year worldwide tribulation. Darbyists manipulate the Olivet Discourse to defend their beliefs, and people believe ’em because they don’t know first-century history, don’t know their bibles, and aren’t depending on the Holy Spirit to help them defeat fear, paranoia, peacelessness, and the lack of basic discernment in interpreting scripture.

Today’s passage especially triggers their fears, because here Jesus speaks of the active persecution of Christians. Which, when Jesus taught this discourse in 33, was coming soon. Really, really soon. Probably before the year was out, Peter and John would cure some guy on the temple steps, Ac 3.1-10 and the Sadducee head priests would arrest and try ’em before the Judean senate for it. Ac 4.1-22 Things would only escalate from there.

Because when you legitimately follow Jesus—even in a country which considers itself predominantly Christian, even in a country full of Christian nationalists who want to make it officially Christian—you’re gonna get pushback. Just as Jesus himself did, from Pharisees who thought he was heretic. Who’d have him killed five days later.

It’s only common sense to expect Jesus’s active followers to be treated like our Lord, so that part doesn’t take the Holy Spirit to foretell. What does are the details Jesus included in his warnings about persecution. Christianity was gonna advance despite persecution. It always has, despite the careful plans of persecutors.

Mark 13.9 KWL

9 “Look out for yourselves.

People will hand you over to senates

and you’ll be flogged in synagogues.

You’ll stand before leaders and kings because of me,

to testify of me to them.”

 

Matthew 24.9-13 KWL

9 “Then they’ll hand you over to tribulation and kill you.

You’ll be hated people to every ethnic group because of my name.

10 Then many will be tripped up,

will betray one another, will hate one another.

11 Many fake prophets will be raised up,

and will lead many astray.

12 Because of the exponential spread of lawlessness,

the love of many will grow cold.

13 One who perseveres to the end—

this person will be saved.”

 

Luke 21.12-19 KWL

12 “Before all these things happen,

they’ll throw their hands on you;

they’ll hunt you down,

handing you over to synagogues and prisons,

dragging you away to kings and leaders because of my name.

13 It’ll turn you into witnesses,

14 so determine in your hearts to not prepare a defense:

15 I’ll give you a mouth and wisdom

which every one of your adversaries

will be unable to withstand or dispute.

16 You’ll also be betrayed by parents, siblings,

relatives and friends,

and they’ll put some of you to death.

17 You’ll be hated by everyone because of my name.

18 But if every hair on your head isn’t destroyed,

19 save your souls by your endurance!”

Nation will rise up against nation.

Mk 13.8, Mt 24.7-8, Lk 21.10-11.

You notice the title of this piece is “Nation will rise up against nation,” yet when I translate the gospel passages which usually get interpreted that way, you’ll notice I render ἔθνος/éthnos as “ethnic group.” Because that’s what an éthnos is.

Mark 13.8 KWL

“For ethnic group will be pitted against ethnic group,

and kingdom against kingdom.

Quakes will happen various places.

Scarcity will happen.

These are first birth pangs.”

 

Matthew 24.7-8 KWL

7 “For ethnic group will be pitted against ethnic group,

and kingdom against kingdom.

Quakes and scarcity will happen various places.

8 All these are first birth pangs.”

 

Luke 21.10-11 KWL

10 Then Jesus told them,

“Ethnic group will be pitted against ethnic group,

and kingdom against kingdom.

11 Both great quakes and scarcity in various places,

and plagues will happen.

Both terrifying events

and signs from heaven will happen.”

Éthnos tends to be translated “nation” because for the longest time, people presumed a nation was a country consisting of a homogenous people-group. Ancient Israel consisted only of the descendants of Israel ben Isaac, and ancient Edom of the descendants of Esau ben Isaac, and Moab of the descendants of Moab ben Lot, and so forth. They all had the same ethnic background and race.

Racists especially liked this theory. Even though it’s not wholly true. The LORD let people immigrate, y’know, and become Israeli. Like Ruth the Moabite, or Uriah the Hittite. Like Moses’s Cushite wife. Nu 12.1 (This isn’t the same woman as Zipporah the Midianite, Ex 2.21 even though many Jews insist she is; this is someone from Cush, which is south of Egypt.) Like any of the various Hebrews and Canaanites with whom Israelis intermarried till Ezra ben Seraiah cracked down on the practice in the fifth century BC. Every culture has had intermarriage with neighboring countries and foreigners—and sometimes it was a scandal, and sometimes not. Pretending it never happened, of course implies it’s scandalous.

But racists still think of nation as meaning the very same thing as ethnic group. So whenever they talk about “this nation,” their nation, that’s what they believe it oughta be: A country which only consists of people like them. They wanna purge the country of other races—or at least make ’em second-class citizens. It’s not natural, they insist, for a country to be made up of, or led by, multiple races.

“Watch out. Don’t be misled.”

Mk 13.3-6, Mt 24.3-5, Lk 21.7-8.

Nope, not talking about Christian nationalism today. Although good gracious, it surely feels like American Christianity has been utterly misled by power-hungry Sadducees who don’t know the Holy Spirit, and don’t know how to do anything with bible other than misquote and mangle it. But I suspect it mostly feels this way because of the company I keep.

Anyway, enough ranting about that. Today’s passage isn’t about our present-day drama anyway. The Olivet Discourse is almost entirely about the first century, and very little touches upon the second coming. Primarily it’s about what that generation of Christians would experience within four decades of Jesus saying this.

It began during Holy Week in the year 33, when Jesus was in temple and people commented on how nicely the fourth temple’s construction was coming along. Jesus’s reply was there “won’t be stone upon stone which won’t be pulled down.” Lk 21.6 KWL

Which stunned Jesus’s hearers. This isn’t at all part of the popular first-century Pharisee teachings about the End Times. In most of the rabbis’ timelines, Messiah came to Jerusalem, worshiped God at temple, then turn round and conquer the world. (Most Darbyists have pretty much duplicated the general Pharisee scenario—but swapped out Messiah for the Beast, who they claim will pettily desecrate a still-has-yet-to-be-built sixth temple instead of worshiping there. Where’s this warped idea come from? Well, we’ll get to that.)

Okay. So pulling the temple down is a big, big deal. It’s as if someone blew up the world trade center of a Mammonist country. You wanna cut the heart out of every devout Judean, no matter their denomination? This’d be how.

Understandably Jesus’s students wanted to know where on earth this falls within the End Times timeline. ’Cause they unthinkingly expected things to play out the way Pharisees taught. Since Messiah himself says it’s not gonna be the way, okay; how does it work? Luke makes it sound like they questioned Jesus right there, but Mark and Matthew say it was on Olivet Hill east of the temple. Mark also says only four of ’em asked, while the other eight were… I dunno, off playing soccer or something.

Mark 13.3-6 KWL

3 While sitting himself at Olivet Hill opposite the temple,

Simon Peter, James, John, and Andrew

are asking Jesus privately,

4 “Tell us when these things will be.

What’s the sign when all these things should end?”

5 Jesus begins to tell them,

“Watch out lest someone mislead you all:

6 Many will come in my name saying, ‘I’m Messiah,’

and will mislead many.”

 

Matthew 24.3-5 KWL

3 While sitting himself upon Olivet Hill,

the students came to Jesus on their own,

saying, “Tell us when these things will be.

What’s the sign of your second coming,

and the end of this age?

4 In reply, Jesus tells them,

“Watch out lest someone mislead you all:

5 Many will come in my name saying, ‘I’m Messiah,’

and will mislead many.”

 

Luke 21.7-8 KWL

7 They inquired of Jesus, saying, “Teacher,

so when will these things be?

What’s the sign when all these things should happen?”

8 Jesus says,

“Watch out. Don’t be misled:

People will come in my name saying, ‘I’m Messiah,’

and ‘The time has come.’

You ought not follow them.”

Okay. The most obvious sign the Olivet Discourse is about the first century, and neither our present nor the time before a future great tribulation, is right here in Jesus’s first warning of the discourse. “Don’t be misled; people are gonna come in my name and claim they’re Messiah.”

The Satan Versus Satan Story.

Mark 3.23-26, Matthew 12.24-30, Luke 11.17-18.

Jesus was in the habit of ignoring Pharisee customs. In part because they aren’t biblical and therefore aren’t necessary (and aren’t sin when you break ’em). In part because too many Pharisees pointed to their customs as proof they were devout… and hoped the customs distracted people from the fact they were breaking the Law just as much as any gentile. It was all hypocrisy—the one thing which really pisses Jesus off.

Pharisees who legitimately tried to follow God, easily recognized Jesus is from God. Pharisees who were only interested in looking devout had the darnedest time trying to prove Jesus isn’t from God: It’s kinda impossible to make such a case when Jesus so obviously has God’s power to cure the sick and throw evil spirits out of people. When Pharisees tried to cure people and do exorcisms, they had such a low success rate, lots of Jews turned to witch doctors instead. In comparison, Jesus looks like he put hardly any effort into it. Sometimes he had to pray real hard, or lay hands on someone more than once, or had to give up because people were so faithless. But most of the time he’d say, “You’re cured,” and they were; or “Get out,” and the critters would scream and flee. He had the Holy Spirit without limit, Jn 3.34 and this almightiness showed.

So Pharisees had nothing. But it looks like the Galilean Pharisees decided to pick the brains of Judean Pharisees, who came up with the explanation, “He hath Beelzebub, and by the prince of the devils casteth he out devils.” Mk 3.22 I explained the backstory of “Beelzebub,” properly Baal Zevúl, in another article. It’s pretty much a euphemism for Satan. Like many a cessationist nowadays, these Judeans claimed Jesus did his thing through the power of the devil. ’Cause God would never work through such people.

In response, Jesus told this parable.

Mark 3.23-26 KWL

23 Jesus, summoning them,

is telling them in parables,

“How can Satan throw out Satan?

24 When a kingdom is divided against itself,

that kingdom can’t stand.

25 When a house is divided against itself,

that house can’t stand.

26 And if Satan rises up against itself and is divided,

it can’t stand. Instead it’s the End.”

The Lost Sheep Story.

Matthew 18.12-14.

Since I was already discussing parables where Jesus compares his followers to sheep, and portrays himself as the good shepherd, I figured I’d do the Lost Sheep Story. I kinda did already, but I bunched Luke’s version together with the Lost Coin Story, and focused on God seeking and saving the lost. Matthew’s version is a bit different, ’cause it has a different punchline.

Jesus begins this parable with a question which is typically translated like the KJV’s, “What think ye?” Except the verb is singular and third-person, not plural and second-person: Ye is not the subject, but the Greek word τί/ti is. It can be translated “what” or “who,” so that’s what I went with. He’s not really asking for his audience’s thoughts; he wants to see who among them has the sense to realize what he means. If Jesus were only fishing for consensus, his parables wouldn’t mean anything. He’s got a point to them—now see if you can spot it.

Even if he already totally spells out his own point. Hey, sometimes the crowd is just that dense—as you’ll see in a moment.

Matthew 18.12-14 KWL

12 “Who among you thinks?

When a hundred sheep belong to a certain person,

and one of them might wander off,

won’t the person leave the 99 on the hills,

and go to seek the wanderer?

13 When he happens to find it,

amen, I promise you, he rejoices over it—

more so than the 99 who hadn’t wandered.

14 Likewise it’s not the will

laid out by your heavenly Father

that one of these little ones be destroyed.”

In Jesus’s day, people didn’t keep their wealth in money, which was harder to come by; but in land and livestock. So how wealthy does that make a person with 100 sheep? Well… not poor. Certainly not rich. Think of an individual lamb like 100 dollars. That’d make his flock worth 10,000 dollars. It’s a decent pile, but it’s not disposable income: You can’t just trade all your sheep for luxuries and comforts. You need to keep those sheep, and keep ’em well-fed and in good health so they’ll make more sheep, and produce good milk and good wool, and you can sell that… if you’re patient and work hard.

And with only 100 sheep, you can’t really afford to lose a lamb or two. A rich person could lose a lamb here and there easily. This guy was gonna have to go look for it himself.

The Good Shepherd Story.

John 10.11-21.

In the previous bit, Jesus says he’s the sheepfold gate. In this bit, Jesus says he’s the good shepherd.

These passages don’t confuse a lot of people, because most of us have plenty enough brainpower to keep up with the idea of Jesus switching metaphors. “I’m the gate; you don’t go in around me. And I’m the shepherd—a good shepherd, who defends his sheep, unlike people who only start up a church for the power and money and fame, and the instant things get serious or rough, they bail on their church in Seattle, Washington and move to Scottsdale, Arizona, and con another flock into following them.”

…Okay yeah, I’m sounding a tad specific there, like I have a particular guy in mind. Maybe I do. But you could swap in any two cities in the United States—or the planet—and you’ll probably find a bad shepherd fleeing from town to town, hoping to evade accountability so he can get away with yet more evil. There have been bad shepherds throughout history. The people of Jesus’s day no doubt knew a few; maybe some rabbi who stole all his synagogue’s money, or one who slept around, or one who touched the children. Human nature doesn’t change, and ravenous wolves still try to feast on the faithful. So these things still happen.

But Jesus is the good shepherd. Kinda like the LORD is in Psalm 23… and since Jesus is the LORD, it’s totally okay to apply that psalm to him. But let’s deal with today’s passage first.

John 10.11-21 KWL

11 “I’m the good shepherd.

The good shepherd puts down his soul for the sheep.

12 The hireling, being no shepherd—

who isn’t the sheep’s own shepherd—

he sees the wolf coming,

and he abandons the sheep and flees.

The wolf snatches and scatters them.

13 Because he’s a hireling!

He doesn’t care about anything about the sheep.

 

14 “I’m the good shepherd.

I know who’s mine,

and who’s mine know me.

15 Just as the Father knows me,

and I know the Father.

16 I have other sheep,

which aren’t from this sheepfold.

It’s necessary for me to lead them as well:

They’ll hear my voice,

and they’ll become one flock, one shepherd.

 

17 “This is why the Father loves me:

I put down my soul,

so I can pick it up again.

18 No one takes it away from me;

instead I put it down by myself.

I have the power to put it down,

and I have the power to pick it up again.

I receive this command from my Father.”

 

19 Again, there became a split among the Judeans

about these words.

20 Many were saying about him, “He has a demon,”

and “He’s raving mad; do you hear him?”

21 Others were saying, “These sayings aren’t demonic;

a demon isn’t able to open blind eyes!”

Jesus says a lot of profound things here, and of course the Judeans’ response was to either say, “Well of course he’s the good shepherd,” or if you’re a bit more closed-minded, “Oh he’s just babbling complete nonsense. Who does he think he is, God or something?”

As you might remember, parables tend to go right over the heads of the closed-minded—not necessarily because they can’t follow what Jesus means by them, but because they have no faith in Jesus. They might totally agree with the metaphor of Jesus’s followers being sheep—but they’re gonna dismiss and ignore the rest. It’s childish rubbish, meant for weak-minded sheeple.

The Sheepfold Gate Story.

John 10.1-10.

A lot of reference materials claim Jesus only shares parables in the synoptic gospels, and that there are no parables in the gospel of John. Seriously, a lot of them. I grew up hearing it all my life. And it turns out it’s rubbish, because John straight-up states,

John 10.6 KJV

This parable spake Jesus unto them: but they understood not what things they were which he spake unto them.

It’s not a mistranslation either. True, John didn’t use the word παραβολή/paravolí, the word from which we literally get our word “parable.” He used παροιμίαν/parimían, which literally means “nearly like it.” But that’s what a parable is: It’s an analogy. A comparison. Something which is nearly like something else, so you can slip people some wisdom in a memorable format.

Other bibles have rendered parimían as “figure of speech” (ESV, NASB, NIV, NRSV) or “illustration” (NKJV, NLT). But again: Parables are figures of speech and illustrations. This is a parable. I suspect the translators were hesitant to use “parable” because it’s so widely believed and taught that John contains no parables. I still call rubbish. This is obviously a parable, and you gotta go through some weird logical gymnastics in order to claim it’s not.

It comes up in John 10, right after Jesus cured a blind man in John 9—whereupon the local Pharisees put the newly-cured guy on trial for heresy and excommunicate him. Jesus calls ’em blind. That’s a figure of speech; this next bit is a parable.

John 10.1-10 KWL

1 “Amen amen! I promise you,

one who won’t enter through the sheepfold gate,

but goes over it some other way:

That one is a thief, a looter.

2 One who enters through the gate is the sheep’s shepherd.

3 The gatekeeper opens up for this shepherd.

The sheep hear the shepherd’s voice.

He calls his own sheep by name, and leads them out.

4 Whenever the shepherd drives out his own sheep,

they go in front of him, and the sheep follow him,

because they’ve known his voice.

5 The sheep won’t follow a stranger,

but will flee from him:

They’ve not known the stranger’s voice.”

 

6 Jesus tells them this parable,

and they don’t know what he’s telling them,

7 so again Jesus says, “Amen amen! I promise you,

I’m the sheepfold gate.

8 Everybody who goes over me is a thief and looter.

But the sheep don’t heed them.

9 I’m the gate. When anyone goes through me, they’ll be saved.

They’ll enter and exit, and they’ll find pasture.

10 A thief won’t come in—

unless it’s to steal, murder, and destroy.

I come so they might have life,

and might have superabundance.”

So. At the end of chapter 9 he was speaking of blindness; now he speaks of sheep? But it’s not a total non-sequitur. Blind or not, people oughta be able to identify their master by voice. The sheep don’t need to identify their shepherd by sight: They can hear. And strangers aren’t gonna sound right.

And yeah, Jesus is also the shepherd, and a good shepherd. But that’s actually another analogy, in the next few verses. We’ll get to it; it’s another of the parables in John. Yep, there are a few of ’em. I’ll get to them all. Meanwhile, in today’s passage, Jesus is the sheepfold gate.

The Persistent Widow Story.

Luke 18.1-8.

Last time I wrote about parables, I brought up the Midnight Friend Story. Well… same gospel, same idea, but whole different story. Comes in chapter 18 instead of 11. It’s also called the Unjust Judge, the Importunate Widow, the Persistent Woman, and the Unjust Judge and the Widow. All depends on which of them you wanna emphasize, but since the widow is meant to be our role model, I think the story oughta be named for her.

Luke 18.1-8 KWL

1 Jesus is speaking parabolically to his students

on the necessity of them always praying

and not becoming discouraged,

2 saying, “There’s some judge in some city

with no respect for God, no regard for people.

3 There’s a widow in that city;

she’s coming to him, saying,

‘Prosecute my opponent for me!’

4 For a time, he doesn’t want to.

Afterward, he said to himself,

‘Though I don’t respect God, nor have regard for the people,

5 because this widow keeps bugging me,

I’ll prosecute her opponent for her.

In the end, she may come give me a black eye!’ ”

6 The Master says, “Listen to what this unjust judge says.

7 Might God not prosecute on behalf of his elect,

who cry out to him day and night,

and have patience with them?

8 I tell you he will prosecute for them, quickly.

But at the Son of Man’s coming,

will he then find any faith on the earth?”

Some notes about my translation. The term the widow is using is ἐκδίκησόν με/ekdíkisón me, which the KJV translates “Avenge me.” That’s perhaps too literal of a translation. Ekdikéo means to carry out a punishment, and the word isn’t particular about whether it’s a judge sentencing a criminal, a vigilante murdering a criminal, or someone with a grudge taking out petty revenge upon a neighbor. Since Jesus is talking about a judge, he is talking about some level of due process.

Problem is, Jesus isn’t talking about a righteous judge. In his culture there were two kinds of judges:

• Jewish judges followed and interpreted the Law, the commands the LORD handed down in the 15th century BC.
• Roman judges followed and interpreted the laws decreed by the senate and people of Rome.

So when Jesus describes this judge as caring neither about God nor people, he describes a person who ignores the standards for both Jewish and Roman judges. He doesn’t base his rulings on law and legal precedent; he follows his conscience. He’s what we’d call an “activist judge”—the kind of judge people love when he shares their politics, ’cause he’ll rule their way, no matter what the law says! But they soon discover a lawless judge creates a lot of instability in society, no matter how moral these judges might imagine they are.