The “leper” whom Jesus cured, then drove away.

Mark 1.40-45, Matthew 8.1-4, Luke 5.12-16.

There’s are two words in the bible usually translated “leprosy.” They’re the Hebrew word צָרָ֑עַת/chara’át and the Greek word λέπρα/lépra. In Leviticus it’s described like yea:

Leviticus 13.1-3 NASB

1 The LORD spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying,

2 “When someone has on the skin of his body a swelling, or a scab, or a bright spot, and it becomes an infection of leprosy on the skin of his body, athen he shall be brought to Aaron the priest or to one of his sons the priests. 3 The priest shall look at the infected area on the skin of the body, and if the hair in the infection has turned white and the infection appears to be deeper than the skin of his body, it is an infection of leprosy; when the priest has looked at him, he shall pronounce him unclean.”

The chapter goes into further detail about whether it’s a temporary or chronic case of “leprosy,” and whether “lepers” need to be temporarily isolated, or permanently—which includes walking around in torn clothing and shouting, “Unclean!” to anyone who approaches. Also whether clothes have “leprosy,” and what should be done with them; and chapter 14 tells of buildings which have “leprosy,” and whether they should be washed or torn down.

Now yeah, since we’re talking about something clothing and buildings can get, we’re not talking about a particular disease. More like a condition. Anything which makes your skin white and scaly, or red and raw; anything which turns your clothing or walls red or green. In the case of clothing and walls, it sounds like mold; in the case of skin ailments, it could be an infection, or even skin cancer.

Nowadays when we say “leprosy” we mean Hansen’s disease, a bacteriological infection which damages nerves and extremities. And it’s curable! Early treatment can prevent any permanent injury, but after six to 12 months of meds and therapy, you’re fine. Don’t need to wear torn clothing; don’t need to shout “Unclean!” For that matter, we’re not entirely sure Hansen’s disease is even what the LORD was talking about in Leviticus: Biblical “leprosy” sounds like skin rashes or skin cancers, and Hansen’s disease doesn’t present as skin lesions till you’ve lost feeling in your extremities—at which point, because you can’t feel pain, you injure yourself more easily.

Regardless of what the bible means by chara’át or leprós, that was the disease to avoid—and the disease ancient Israelis most feared. It made you ritually unclean, which means you couldn’t go to temple or synagogue, ’cause you were self-quarantined. Couldn’t go into town. Nobody but other “lepers” could touch you. And, thanks to Pharisee attitudes of the day, people presumed you were cursed—because why else would God let such a horrible thing happen to you?

People still develop this attitude about chronically unwell people. If you’re regularly suffering from maladies; if you’re deaf, blind, can’t walk, or are mentally ill, Christians regularly develop the attitude of “That’s your fault. ’Cause if you only trusted God enough, he’d cure you.” Which is pure a--holery on their part, ’cause it’s not like they did anything to particularly deserve health and wellness. They’re sinners too. In fact, being able-bodied, they’re quite able to sin way more than someone who’s not.

Anywho, here’s the part of the gospels where someone with “leprosy” first approaches Jesus. Dude cured everyone in Capharnaum, but what about the “lepers” who were quarantining outside Capharnaum and all the other cities? Might Jesus be able to cure them too?

This one “leper” decided to give it a shot.

Ready to take on the whole of the Galilee.

Mark 1.35-39, Matthew 4.23-25, Luke 4.42-44.

Whenever preachers talk about Jesus curing everyone in Capharnaum, they tend to describe it as Jesus spending all day curing people and throwing out demons. But read the text: The people came to him at sundown, Mk 1.32, Mt 8.16, Lk 4.40 so he actually spent all night curing people. Hope he got his Sabbath rest, ’cause he sure needed it.

By the end, preachers tend to describe Jesus as exhausted. And he might’ve been really tired, ’cause he was up all night. But exhausted? That’s only because they don’t know what it’s like to supernaturally cure the sick. Faith-healers will tell you it’s just the opposite. It’s not like a medical doctor, repairing patient after patient with treatment after treatment, taxing your mind and body with thought and work. You aren’t doing the work; the Holy Spirit is. You watch him do his thing; you rejoice once he’s done it. It’s not tiring. It’s invigorating. It’s a rush.

More likely, Jesus was wired after curing person after person after person. Too jazzed to ever get to sleep.

Since translators don’t realize this, they tend to make it sound like Jesus woke up crazy-early in the morning, after maybe two or three hours of sleep. But ἀναστὰς ἐξῆλθεν/anastás exílthen doesn’t mean, as the KJV puts it, “rising up… he went out,” but “the one who is up [already], goes out.” Jesus didn’t wake up and figure it’s prayer time; he was still up, and didn’t wanna sleep. He wanted more.

What kind of mood did you imagine Jesus was in?

Mark 1.35-39 KWL

35 Still awake in the still-dark morning,

Jesus comes out and goes to a solitary place,

and is praying there.

36 Simon Peter and those with him

search for Jesus,

37 and find Jesus and tell him this:

“Everybody looks for you!”

38 Jesus tells them, “We should go elsewhere,

into the other towns there are,

so I can preach there also,

for this is why I’ve come!”

 

Luke 4.42-44 KWL

42 Once it became day,

Jesus comes out and goes to a solitary place,

and the crowds are looking for him,

and come to him.

They’re holding on to him

lest he leave them.

43 Jesus tells them this:

“In the other cities as well,

I have to proclaim the good news of God’s kingdom.

For this is why I’m sent.”

44 And Jesus is preaching

in the Jewish synagogues.

“Capharnaum is cured. Who’s next? Give me more!”

See, one’s mindset makes a huge difference when it comes to interpreting bible. If we bring our own pessimism, skepticism, cynicism, negativity, and exhaustion to the text, we wind up with a negative-sounding Jesus who’s just plain done with these people. And that’s not Jesus. He loves people! He came to save people. Not ditch ’em at the first opportunity.

The idea of an exhausted Jesus, desperately trying to claw back some strength through prayer, is based on our own lack of experience, and bad attitudes. Y’ever notice how many preachers are introverts? To them, people are tiring. Ministry drains them. So they need to get away from people on a regular basis, and renew their strength in prayer… and project themselves upon Jesus, and it’s entirely wrong. He didn’t look at the Galilee and think, “Man, I have so much still to do.” He looked at it in the Holy Spirit’s might, and thought, “I’m gonna conquer the world!”

Jesus cures the crowds.

Mark 1.32-34, Matthew 8.16-17, Luke 4.40-41.

In ancient Israel there was no such thing as healthcare. If you got sick, your only recourse was either for God to miraculously heal you, or folk medicine. Science hadn’t been invented yet!

Following the standards of the day, folk medicine was largely unproven: People did what they believed oughta work, based on guesses (educated or not), hearsay, rumor, or homeopathy—if something makes you ill, why not dose yourself with more and build up resistance? You know, like shooting yourself with smaller-caliber bullets to build up your immunity to larger bullets.

Some of it did actually work—like willow bark, which we nowadays call “aspirin.” Or poppy juice, which we nowadays call “opium.” But y’notice sometimes these cures did more harm than good.

Because the “experts” didn’t know what they were doing. All of them were fumbling around in the dark. Read Hippocrates or Galen sometime: Their philosophical theories are kinda entertaining, but when you realize people were actually trying to cure desperately ill people with their “knowledge”—it gets kinda horrifying.

The King James Version translated the Greek word ιἀτρός/yatrós (plural, ιἀτροί/yatrí) as “physician”—by which they meant “one who gives you physic,” and physic means “medicine.” A physician gave you folk remedies. Or drugs; they’d dope you up till you didn’t care about pain anymore. It’s the best they knew. But don’t get the wrong idea these “physicians” in the bible were in any way doctors of medicine. A far more proper translation of yatrós is “witch doctor”—which is what I tend to use.

Among pagan yatrí, one of the tools in their iffy arsenal was δαιμόνια/demónia. We translate that word as “demons,” but to Greeks a demónion was a lesser god; kinda like a guardian angel. If you were sick, the yatrí would ask their gods Apollo or Æsculapius for help… and if those gods were busy, maybe they could call upon a demónion to help you. Maybe stick one in you, and it could root around in there and fix you right up! Maybe two or three for extra help, or expediency. Maybe more! If one tablet of aspirin is good for you, why not an entire bottle? Why not a legion’s worth of demónia?

So as I said in my article on Jesus’s first exorcism, if you’ve ever wondered why the gospels contain so many exorcisms, and how they’re connected to supernatural healing, this is why. Jesus lived in the Galilee, which wasn’t entirely Jewish: It was full of Syrian Greek villages filled with Syrian Greek pagans. And if a Jewish person was sick, and desperate, they’d try anything—including some pagan yatrós who was rumored to get results. So they’d get demonized. Way bigger problems than ever they bargained for.

As I also said in that article, when Americans get sick, and western medicine doesn’t know how to treat them, we too will get desperate, and dabble in witch doctoring. Call it “eastern medicine,” call it “alternative medicine,” call it “natural healing,” call it whatever; none of these guys went to medical schools, and some of them call upon demónia same as the ancient Greeks. Times change; human nature hasn’t.

Curing Simon Peter’s mother-in-law.

Mark 1.29-31, Matthew 8.14-15, Luke 4.38-39.

The guy we know as St. Simon Peter is actually Simon bar Jonah of Capharnaum. Mt 16.17 Or Simon bar John; Jn 1.42 we don’t know which, ’cause one of the gospel-writers got it wrong, despite all the Christians who claim the bible has no errors. Fine; you tell me whether it’s Jonah or John, and don’t base it on which gospel’s your favorite, like the rest of Christendom has.

Jesus nicknamed him ܟܐܦܐ/Kefá, Aramaic for “rock,” at the beginning of John. Jn 1.42 I don’t know that Kefá was mean to be his proper name, because the New Testament regularly translates it into Greek, Πέτρος/Pétros, instead of transliterating it into Κηφᾶς/Kifás (KJV “Cephas”). Anyway Pétros became Petrus in Latin and Peter in English.

Simon was chosen by Jesus to be in his Twelve, as apostles who’d learn to do as he does, and proclaim his kingdom. Simon’s actually listed first in all the lists of the Twelve, Mk 3.16, Mt 10.2, Lk 6.14, Ac 1.13 and whenever we read of the Twelve doing stuff, we typically read of Simon leading the group. Ac 1.15, 2.14, 5.29 While Christ Jesus is the church’s leader, now and forever, Christians recognize Simon Peter as its first non-divine head; and Roman Catholics insist part of the reason the Bishop of Rome leads their church is because he’s Simon Peter’s successor to that job.

But unlike bishops in the Roman Catholic church today, Simon Peter was married. 1Co 9.5 The whole unmarried celibate leadership requirement they have today, drawn from Paul’s comments in 1 Corinthians 7.32-35, didn’t become their standard for a few more centuries. Evangelicals ignore it… though from what I’ve seen among certain church leaders who’ve no clue how to juggle ministry and family, maybe more of us oughta consider it. But I digress.

Though Christian art and movies regularly depict ’em as middle-aged white men, Jesus’s students were young brown men—teenagers, since Jewish adulthood was age 13 in that culture. Jews could even marry at that age, same as Jesus’s mom did; all the culture expected of them was they should be able to financially support a spouse, and Simon apparently could do that. (Probably cut down expenses a lot with how many people lived there!)

We don’t know Simon’s wife’s name. She mighta been mentioned in the New Testament, but we’ve no idea because none of the women in it are said to be Simon’s wife. Some Catholics claim his wife died before Jesus started training him, but Simon later implies he left her at home while following Jesus, Lk 18.29 and Paul straight-up states Simon had a believing wife. 1Co 9.5 Ancient Christian historian Eusebius Pamphili wrote Simon’s wife was later martyred the same day as he, Church History 3.30.2 and Clement of Alexandria wrote that Simon told his wife as she was led off to martyrdom, “Remember the Lord,” Stromata 7.11 which obviously means she knew the Lord.

Even met him in person. He cured her mother, after all.

That’s the story I’m analyzing today. In Mark and Luke it happens right after Jesus throws an unclean spirit out of synagogue, and in Matthew it’s right after the Sermon on the Mount—Jesus comes down from the mount, cures a leper, cures a centurion’s slave, then swings by Simon’s and cures his mother-in-law.

The order of events isn’t entirely important… except that in Mark and Luke, because this event takes place right after Jesus teaches in synagogue, it’d mean Jesus cured Simon’s mother-in-law the same day. (Even if it’s the very next morning, it’s still the same Jewish day, which is figured sundown-to-sundown.) Which’d mean Jesus cured her on Sabbath.

Though Christians still debate whether throwing out evil spirits is the same thing as curing the sick (and I would argue it absolutely is), this’d certainly be another instance of Jesus curing people on Sabbath—a practice which, as you’ll later see, profoundly irritated Pharisees because of the way they interpreted the Law. Obviously Jesus interprets it differently. I’ll get to that later. Meanwhile the controversy doesn’t come up yet, because Jesus didn’t cure the mother-in-law in public, so no Pharisees were around to bellyache about it.

An unclean spirit in Jesus’s synagogue.

Mark 1.23-28, Luke 4.31-37.

This happened right after Jesus went to synagogue one Friday night… and didn’t teach like the scribes. We don’t know what he taught. Probably something profound and life-changing. But despite his amazing, world-rocking message, the only words we have from his entire lesson was Φιμώθητι καὶ ἔξελθε ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ/Fimóthiti ke éxelthe ap’ aftú, “Shut up and get out of him.”

Lousy evil spirit.

Mark 1.23-26 KWL

23 Next, a person with an unclean spirit

was already in their synagogue,

and he screams out,

24 saying, “Who are we to you, Jesus Nazarene?

Do you come to destroy us?

I know who you are. God’s ‘holy one’…”

25 Jesus rebukes it, saying, “Shut up and get out of him.”

26 Convulsing him and shouting with a loud voice,

the unclean spirit gets out of him.

 

Luke 4.33-35 KWL

33 A person is already in the synagogue

who has a spirit, an unclean demon.

It screams out in a loud voice,

34 “Whoa! Who are we to you, Jesus Nazarene?

Do you come to destroy us?

I know who you are. God’s ‘holy one’…”

35 Jesus rebukes it, saying, “Shut up and get out of him.”

The demon, dropping the man in the middle of the room,

gets out of him, never harming him.

Movies tend to overdramatize this scene. Your average Jesus movie shows Jesus, peacefully offering koans to a group of fawning students and skeptical Pharisees, when suddenly some wild-eyed madman forces his way into synagogue. Clothes disheveled. Hair unkempt. A little foam on his lips. Looking like Charles Manson after crawling through the desert two days without water. Because movie devils are profoundly stupid, this critter’s ready to pounce on our Lord—the one guy with the power to annihilate it with a word.

Any chance it was like that in real life? Nah; you just read the gospels. Get those movie images out of your brain and lookit the text. And bear these historical details in mind.

Sabbath began at sundown Friday night. Synagogue services began immediately afterward. People would enter the building—men up front so they could ask questions, women in the back where they were expected to not ask questions, sometimes separated by a partition but not always. Once everybody was in, the synagogue president would bar the doors to keep latecomers from interrupting. If you were late, you stood outside and listened as best you could, or you turned round and went home.

So if you were a raving lunatic, you couldn’t burst into the service and interrupt Jesus. All you could do is shout a lot, beat the doors, throw stuff through the windows… but you weren’t getting in.

Got that? Good. So how’d this demoniac get into the building? Simple: He entered along with everybody else. You had to be ritually clean to enter synagogue, and this guy looked clean. Had he appeared out of place, or off, he’d’ve been sent away. He wasn’t. He looked normal.

Entered with everybody else. Stood there in the crowd. Sang psalms. Listened to the scriptures and their translation. Listened to Jesus’s lesson… up to the point he got noisy. Nobody suspected he had a demon in him. Y’see, not every demoniac looks like a madman. Not every madman does either.

The kingdom of God. Or kingdom of heaven. Same thing.

The central belief of Christianity is God’s kingdom.

I know; you thought it was Jesus, didja? Most Christians do. He’s the king of this kingdom; Christ means Messiah, which is one of the many titles of Israel’s king. But you’ll notice Jesus, when he preached the gospel, didn’t say he was the good news: The kingdom is.

Mark 1.14-15 KWL

14 After John’s arrest, Jesus went into the Galilee preaching God’s gospel, 15 saying this:

“The time has been fulfilled. God’s kingdom has come near. Repent! Believe in the gospel!”

I know; most folks who say they proclaim “the gospel,” or claim they preach “the gospel,” don’t define the gospel that way. They claim it’s the sacrificial death of Jesus: He saved us, and that’s the gospel.

It’s actually not.

Don’t get me wrong. Salvation is totally important. ’Cause without it, we’d never have access to God’s kingdom, much less inherit it. But salvation’s only the introduction to the gospel. It’s the part which explains why God bothers to interact with us sinners in the first place. Justifying us because we put our faith in him, getting forgiven and saved, being given abundant grace: That’s definitely good news. But it’s hardly the whole story, and not what Jesus preached. He proclaimed his kingdom. Lookit what all his parables and stories were about: Kingdom. Lookit what he told his followers to go out and preach: Kingdom. Mt 10.7, Lk 16.16, Ac 8.12 He wouldn’t stop talking about it!

Church is also important. But we get so focused on church functions (and busywork, and interpersonal drama), we forget the church exists to train us for kingdom living.

Jesus is absolutely important. But he’s primarily important because he rules his kingdom. Worshiping him entails doing kingdom business. Praying to him means getting kingdom instructions. Following him means developing a kingdom lifestyle. Even when he fills us with the Holy Spirit, his goal is to equip us for kingdom work.

The kingdom has been God’s goal since creation. He wanted to walk with Adam and Eve in the garden. Their sin botched that. Ever since, he’s been trying to return us to that level of relationship.

Leviticus 26.12 KWL

“I walk in your midst. For you, I’m God. For me, you’re my people.”

He wants to live with us forever. Permanently. Physically: You may recall God became human, but you may have got the idea this was just a temporary deal so he could die for our sins. Nuh-uh. God became human so he would be human—as limiting as we might consider this—and really live with his people. Walk with us, talk with us, hang out with us, be with us. No more distance. No more separation. Just God and his kids, a king with his princesses and princes.

Yeah, there’s heaven.

The author of Matthew preferred to describe the kingdom as “heaven’s kingdom” (KJV “kingdom of heaven”) rather than “God’s kingdom.” The popular theory is Matthew had a common Jewish hangup about name-dropping God so often. Regardless, we Christians tend to fixate on the heaven part—and assume by “kingdom,” Jesus and the scriptures are really talking about heaven. The afterlife. Paradise.

Popular Christian culture doesn’t help. There’s so much paganism mixed in with our ideas of afterlife. Most of us assume once we die, we go to heaven and stay there forever. No resurrection when Jesus returns; he just takes any Christians left on earth to heaven too. And that’s his kingdom, off in some different plane of existence. Certainly not on earth, not in the here and now… unless you mean having a heavenly attitude or mindset. And even then that’s all intellectual. Not concrete. Not real. Imaginary.

But the kingdom comes from heaven. It’s not limited to heaven. It’s not contained by heaven. It’s not trapped there. Jesus said God’s kingdom has come near. And in the Lord’s Prayer he taught us to pray it come, Mt 6.10 emerge into this world so what’s done on earth matches heaven.

Again, don’t get me wrong. We get heaven too. It’s part of the kingdom. Part. ’Cause when we take heaven and blow it up into the whole of Christianity, things get wonky. It’s like an entire body made of an eyeball. And you’ll notice how heaven-fixated Christians get wonky too: They abandon everything in this world. Yeah, they might give up materialism and greed, and that’s good… but y’notice these people also stop caring about other people. They dismiss the lost and the needy, reject caring for nature and the environment, and focus on nothing but their own heavenly future. So there’s still a lot of greed mixed in to this mindset: It’s like when someone stops washing the car ’cause it’s headed for the junkyard. It’s not really about humility.

The purpose of all the scriptures’ heaven imagery is not because we’re abandoning earth for heaven. On the contrary. Jesus intends to establish heaven here. Just as God came down, heaven’s coming down next. The reason Jesus wants God’s will done here, is because it’s earth’s destiny to become heaven. By acting like heaven’s citizens instead of earth’s, we Christians are to do our part as God establishes his kingdom. Here.

Here. But not here.

Jesus says the kingdom has come, and is already here among us. Lk 17.21

Jesus also says the kingdom hasn’t come yet. That’s why we’re praying for it in the Lord’s Prayer. It’s coming. It’s just not here yet.

Yes, that’s a paradox. One of the many paradoxes in Christianity. Which bugs a lot of Christians who insist our religion has no paradoxes; it’s totally logical and reasonable. That’s their hangup. The reality is God’s kingdom is both here, and yet to come—simultaneously. It’s here already, but not yet.

What’s this even mean? Obviously one of the ways it’s not here yet, is Jesus hasn’t yet returned in his second coming. He will, but hasn’t yet. He’s our king, but he’s not yet ruling the world from a headquarters in Jerusalem. Not yet.

But one of the ways the kingdom’s here already, is when we need resources from Jesus. If we need power, if we need to talk to our king, if we wanna borrow some of his angelic soldiers: We have full access to his kingdom. It’s right here, closer than Mexico is to the United States.

Don’t believe me? Notice what it feels like when Christians grab hold of these kingdom resources and use ’em. When people hear prophecy, get cured of their ailments, and the Holy Spirit empowers us to shout his praises in languages we don’t know: The kingdom is absolutely here. Shockingly so.

Of course, when Christians never bother to tap these resources, God’s kingdom’s gonna feel far, far away. So whether we recognize it’s here, largely depends on the active participation of believing, obedient Christians.

But that’s only the case till Jesus returns. Once he does, his kingdom will fully exist—whether Christians trust and obey, or not. (Although by then, we’ll be resurrected, and we won’t care to do anything but trust and obey Jesus.) After Jesus returns, we’ll have King Jesus on the planet to direct his kingdom personally. And powerfully.

Other kingdoms—and the fake kingdom.

Christians have wanted God’s kingdom to be here so bad, we’ve tried to bring it to earth ourselves.

The utopian view of the End Times was mighty popular among Evangelicals for centuries. It still has many adherents, all of whom think if humanity gets its act together, we might create heaven right here on earth. A kingdom of heaven, so to speak. We’ll solve humanity’s problems and everything will be paradise. What a beautiful world this will be; what a glorious time to be free.

So these utopians make an effort to establish a Christian nation. Or bring us back to our Christian roots (assuming we truly had any). We pass “Christian laws” by adapting biblical commands for our nation’s statutes. (Definitely the moral ones; sometimes even the judicial ones.) We throw in a few extra laws which encourage public piety: Put prayer in the public schools, force businesses to close on Sundays and Christian holidays, require the state to hold to “Christian” definitions of marriage and family and morality. They figure the reason God won’t answer the prayer, “Your kingdom come,” is ’cause that’s our job.

Invariably this goes wrong.

Because Jesus isn’t directly in charge. Humans are. Sinful humans are. Y’see, sinful humans covet power. And we’ll pretend to be whatever we have to be in order to get it. Invariably hypocrites take control of our so-called “Christian nation.” So, expect it to look far less like Christ, and far more like the Beast. Run by legalism instead of grace, fear instead of love, greed instead of compassion, debt instead of generosity. Funding prisons instead of hospitals and schools, pushing the death penalty instead of rehabilitation, manufacturing the world’s most massive warmaking machinery instead of peace. You know, like the United States right now.

Without Jesus’s personal, direct involvement, humans are just corrupt enough to bollix the entire thing. Look at the very best examples we have in the bible: Moses, David, and Josiah. And we all know what sins they committed.

There are very good reasons for the separation of church and state. Put ’em together and you won’t produce the kingdom. You get a state run by fake Christians, and a church full of hypocrites. We’ve seen it happen time and again throughout European history. But either we don’t know history, or we’re naïve enough to think we understand Jesus better than those old dead white guys ever did, so we’ll get it right.

Not that there’s anything wrong with it when Christians vote, run for office, and work in government. Moral people should be involved in government. We need to steer it away from evil as best we can! But when we try to grow God’s kingdom through political might, instead of surrendering all power to the only one able to handle it without it utterly corrupting him (obviously I mean Jesus; duh) we adopt force instead of grace. We using the devil’s methods instead of Jesus’s. We need to keep the state out of the Christianity business. Jesus is the only one qualified to run his kingdom. Till he returns, we have no business creating another monster which Jesus’ll just have to overthrow anyway. Don’t delude yourself into thinking the United States is an exception. That’s treason against our true king.

So in the meanwhile we Christians have dual citizenship, so to speak: We’re part of the royal family of God’s kingdom, and at the same time we live in the “kingdom” of our homelands, and have duties as its citizens. Vote, pay taxes, do community service. But when these kingdoms come into conflict, God’s kingdom must always take priority, period. We don’t put the American flag above the Christian flag on our flagpoles. We don’t support immoral leaders right or wrong, simply because we share a political party. (Well, okay, some brain-dead Christians do. But point out the discrepancy to them, and they’ll sort it out… or expose their real priorities. Either way.) We serve the eternal kingdom, not the one Jesus is gonna replace with his reign.

Kingdom living.

“The Christian life” is simply a synonym for kingdom living. We’re gonna live in God’s kingdom forever, and we need to start behaving like it. We need to adopt that lifestyle and get used to it.

That’s where we kinda slide away from kingdom talk, and get into thinking like God does (theology), behaving like God wants us to (sanctification), accessing God’s power (supernatural), and looking forward to Jesus’s return (End Times). But all of it, all of it, involves the kingdom. Like I said, it’s the central belief of Christianity.

Didn’t realize this? Well, let it sink in.

When Jesus loses students.

John 6.59-71.

So Jesus gave this big ol’ lesson on being the living bread who wants to save us—and expects our response to be a deep commitment. You gotta eat the living bread. And no, this doesn’t mean holy communion; this means really being one with Jesus. Really following him.

Tough teaching for a classroom of people who only wanted Jesus to overthrow the Romans for them, then give ’em free bread. Tough teaching for Christians nowadays, who only wanna live worry-free lives, then go to heaven and live in mansions. God did all the work of saving us, so they figure he can do all the work of everything else in Christendom. These folks don’t wanna actually do anything for God; they want cheap grace and passive Christianism. There’s not much difference between our motives.

But there is a big difference in our responses: The Galileans left.

Whereas Christians nowadays will say yes and amen, and pretend we’re all for the idea… then go out and demonstrate by our lifestyles we don’t believe a word of it… but be back in church every Sunday morning acting as if we do. Lemme keep being blunt: Both these behaviors are forms of apostasy. The only difference between the Galileans who left Jesus, and the Christians who pretend we’re still on board, is our rank hypocrisy. The Galileans at least had the balls to admit they were outa there.

Anyway back to the text, where the Galileans are on the fence about Jesus… so Jesus gives the fence a shake.

John 6.59-66 KWL

59 Jesus said this while teaching in the Kfar Nahum synagogue.

60 So, many of his students who heard him said, “This word is hard. Who can listen to it?”

61 Innately knowing his students kvetched about this, Jesus told them, “This upsets you?

62 So what about when you see the Son of Man rise to where he previously was?

63 It’s spirit which makes you alive; flesh gets you nowhere.

The sayings I tell you are spirit—are life— 64 but some of you don’t believe me.”

For Jesus knew from the beginning some didn’t believe—and one was his betrayer.

65 Jesus said, “This is why I told you nobody can come to me

unless they were given me by the Father.”

66 As a result of this lesson, many of his students went home and no longer followed him.

See, Jesus doesn’t want lukewarm followers. He wants us to be fruity. He wants people who connect with him, abide in him, pick up their crosses and follow him. Anybody who doesn’t wanna: It’d be best if they went home.

Repent!

REPENT rə'pent verb. Turn away from one’s current, usually sinful, behavior.

2. Feel regret or express remorse about wrongdoing or sin.

Our culture has used the word repent to mean feeling bad. For centuries. For so long, you’re not gonna find the definition “turn away from one’s behavior” in most dictionaries. Even the Latin word repent is based on, re-paenitere, gets defined as “feel great penitence or sorrow.” When people repent, they feel bad for what they’ve done. Sometimes they bother to make amends, or try to. (Penitentiaries, annoyingly, have little about them anymore which involves making amends, community service, or good deeds in general.)

But the Christian definition comes from the Greek words we translate as “repent,” namely metanoéo the verb, and metánoia/“repentance,” the noun. The word’s literally a compound of the words metá/“after” and noéo/“think,” but combined they mean “turn round.” In other words, don’t go that way again. Don’t do that again. Walk it back.

So when Jesus first began to preach the gospel—

Mark 1.14-15 KWL

14 After John’s arrest, Jesus went into the Galilee preaching God’s gospel, 15 saying this:

“The time has been fulfilled. God’s kingdom has come near. Repent! Believe in the gospel!”

—he wasn’t telling the Galileans, “Feel really bad about what you’ve done, and believe in the gospel!” He was ordering them to stop what they were doing—good or bad—and come to God’s kingdom. It’s come near!

Problem is, when Christians don’t understand the proper definition of repentance, we try to obey Jesus’s command by psyching ourselves into feeling bad. We manufacture an emotion. We make ourselves feel sorry for our sins, and some of us even claim this sorrow is mandatory before God can forgive us. ’Cause if you’re not sorry, what kind of unfeeling jerk are you?

Well we do suck big time sometimes. Sinfest

But after we’ve whipped ourselves into a lather (not literally, although you know Christians throughout history actually have done so literally) and got all the self-pity and self-condemnation out of our system, are we following Jesus any better? Or at all? Not usually. Nope; we go right back to the same “Forgive me” prayer every time we pray, and never notice how we’re not growing spiritually whatsoever.

Because we gotta actually repent. We gotta quit doing as we’ve been doing, and follow Jesus into his kingdom.

John the baptist checks in on Jesus.

Matthew 11.2-6, Luke 7.18-23.

In Jesus’s day there was no such thing as freedom of speech or religion. Your religion was either what the king said it was, or what the king permitted within his borders. Your speech was whatever the powerful couldn’t take offense at, ’cause if they did, they would kill or persecute you. That’s why Jesus taught in metaphors and parables on a frequent basis. It wasn’t just to make people think.

His relative John bar Zechariah, also known as John the baptist, was not so vague. John flat-out said the governor of the Galilee, Antipas Herod (frequently called “king” because he was the son of King Herod 1, but properly a Roman tetrárhis/“ruler of a quarter-province”) was in violation of the Law, ’cause he had married his brother’s ex. Lv 18.16 Plus she was his niece, which generally violates the command against having sex with close relatives. Lv 18.6 Since John wouldn’t shut up about it, Mk 6.17-18 Antipas threw him into prison, and so much for his ministry. John never got out alive.

In both Matthew and Luke, John heard what Jesus was up to, and sent some of his own students to ask Jesus a question. In Matthew we find out why John couldn’t do this personally: It was by this point John was in prison.

Matthew 11.2-3 KWL 2 John the baptist, hearing in prison of Messiah’s works, sending some of his students, 3 told Jesus, “Are you the one to come, or do we look for another?”

Luke 7.18-19 KWL 18 John the baptist’s students informed him about all these things. Calling two particular students of his, John 19 sent them to the Master, saying, “Are you the one to come, or do we look for another?”

And this question really confuses Christians. Because we’ve read the other parts of the gospels, in which John was entirely sure Jesus is the one to come. So it’s a little confusing when John suddenly sends Jesus some students with the question, “So are you the one to come?”

Most of the time, Christians assume John had a massive crisis of faith. After all, he’d been tossed into prison, he was gonna die, and when you ponder your mortality like this, you start to rethink everything. Maybe John didn’t believe anymore. So, to make himself feel better, he send students to Jesus with the unspoken request, “Please tell me my life hasn’t been in vain. Please tell me you’re Messiah.”

I don’t care for this interpretation. Mostly because I think the interpreters are projecting their own doubts upon John. He had no such doubts.

Jesus doesn’t teach like scribes.

Mark 1.21-22, Matthew 7.28-29. Luke 4.31-32.

As Jesus wrapped up his Sermon on the Mount, Matthew includes a comment about the way he taught his lessons, and the way his listeners reacted to it:

Matthew 7.28-29 KWL

28 It happens when Jesus finishes these lessons,

the masses are amazed at his teaching:

29 His teaching isn’t like their scribes,

but like one who has authority.

It’s much the same way Mark and Luke described it when Jesus first began teaching in synagogue. Even walking-around rabbis like Jesus would teach in synagogue: They’d teach their kids on weekdays, and the general population on Sabbath—meaning Friday night after sundown. (Jewish days go from sundown to sundown, not midnight to midnight.)

Pharisee custom was for the synagogue president to let anyone anyone he recognized as a valid teacher, have the floor. Visiting rabbis and scribes, new guys, or young teachers spoke first. This wasn’t necessarily to honor them. If any of ’em turned out to be wrong, as sometimes they did, the last teacher—usually the synagogue’s senior scribe—would correct them, and get the last word. Synagogues were schools, Pharisees liked to debate, and sometimes they’d spend all night debating. Good thing it was Sabbath; in the morning everyone could sleep in.

Anyway, debates kept synagogue really interesting. But if the synagogue president (and later the Christian ἐπίσκοπος/epískopos, “supervisor”) couldn’t keep order, or when people lack the Spirit’s fruit, it could also become chaos. Some people don’t know how to be civil, and deliberately pick fights, or make personal attacks. Some will nitpick stupid things, defend loopholes, and spread misinformation. The evening could become an unprofitable waste. Happened among the early Christians too. Tt 3.9-11 Which is discouraging.

Into the belly of this beast, Jesus went to teach about God’s kingdom. Mark says this happened after he collected his first students from their boats; Luke puts this story before he collected ’em. Either way.

Mark 1.21-22 KWL

21 Jesus and his students enter Capharnaum.

Next, on entering synagogue on Sabbath, Jesus is teaching—

22 and people are being amazed at Jesus’s teaching.

For in his teaching, Jesus acts like one who has authority,

and not like the scribes.

 

Luke 4.31-32 KWL

31 Jesus comes down to Capharnaum, a city in the Galilee.

He’s teaching the citizens on Sabbath.

32 People are being amazed at Jesus’s teaching—

because his word is given with authority.

Preaching, relocating, gathering students.

When Jesus started preaching the gospel in the Galilee.

Mark 1.14-20 • Matthew 4.12-22 • Luke 4.14-15, 5.1-11

I’ll admit right now: Whenever bible scholars try to sync up the gospels, we’re guessing. They’re educated guesses, but still guesses. The authors didn’t expect we’d ever try to line ’em up; some might’ve assumed there weren’t other gospels, or that theirs superseded all others. But we wanna tell Jesus’s story comprehensively, so sometimes we do. I don’t know whether the events I’m writing about here, come right after Jesus healing the prince’s son. But it kinda works, so it’s the order I’ll go in.

At some point, John the baptist got hauled off to prison, ’cause he pissed off the Galilee’s ruler, Antipas Herod.

Luke 3.19-20 KWL

19 Quarter-king Antipas Herod, embarrassed by John

about his brother’s wife Herodia, and everything evil Herod did,

20 shut up John in prison, adding this to everything.

The gospels eventually get into what became of John; it’s not pretty. But as soon as John went into the clink, Jesus took up John’s charge and began proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom.

Mark 1.14-15 KWL 14 After John’s arrest, Jesus went into the Galilee preaching God’s gospel, 15 saying this: “The time has been fulfilled. God’s kingdom has come near. Repent! Believe in the gospel!”

Matthew 4.12-17 KWL 12 Hearing John was arrested, Jesus went back to the Galilee. 13 Leaving Nazareth, coming to Kfar Nahum, he settled by the sea. On the border of Zebulún and Naftalí, 14 so he could fulfill the prophet Isaiah’s word, saying, 15 “Land of Zebulún, land of Naftalí, on the sea road, beyond Jordan, the Galilee of gentiles: 16 The people sitting in the dark see a great light. To those sitting in the place of death’s shadow, light rises to them.” Is 9.1-2 17 From then on, Jesus began to preach and say, “Repent: Heaven’s kingdom has come near!”

Luke 4.14-15 KWL 14 Jesus went back into the Galilee with the Spirit’s power. Rumor went out across the whole region about him. 15 Revered by all, Jesus taught in their synagogues.

The gospel of Christ Jesus is summed up in Mark 1.15: “The time has been fulfilled. God’s kingdom has come near.” With Messiah—who’d be Jesus—as its king.

Yet you might notice a whole lot of folks who supposedly preach “the gospel” don’t preach that. Instead they quote John 3.16: God loved the world, sent us his son, and those who believe in him get eternal life. They claim that’s the gospel. It’s not. Getting saved is how we get into the kingdom. But the full gospel is what we have now that we’re in God’s kingdom. We get access to our inheritance.

And that’s why so many evangelists only proclaim a partial gospel. Some of ’em don’t believe we have access to our inheritance. Some of ’em are mighty uncomfortable with everything God’s kingdom entails.

Jesus’s easy victory over the devil.

Mark 1.12-13, Matthew 4.1-11, Luke 4.1-13.

Mark 1.12-13 KWL

12 Right afterward, the Spirit threw Jesus into the wilderness.

13 Jesus was in the wilderness 40 days, getting tested by Satan.

He was with the beasts. Angels were serving him.

That’s the extra-short version of Jesus’s “temptations,” as they tend to be called: Peirádzo/“test” is often meant in a tempting sense, ’cause part of the test is how badly we want what’s offered. But is it in Jesus’s divine nature to go about getting these things the wrong way? Nah. He’s never gonna put himself above his Father’s will. So let’s not treat these tests like they really made Jesus doubt his commitment to the Father. Any devout Christian can easily resist such temptations.

The Mark version doesn’t have a lot of details: Just Jesus and the devil, out in the middle of nowhere. Didn’t have to be way out in the middle of nowhere; in fact it’d be a stronger test of will if Jesus was just within sight of civilization. (As was the case in the Judean desert. Lots of hermits, nomads, even a few communes.)

If all we had was the Mark version, we’d imagine all sorts of horrors and enticements. (Especially since Mark brought up Jesus “was with the beasts”—something End Times fanatics would have all sorts of fun speculating about.)

Y’know, since it was only Jesus and the devil out there in the wilderness, it leads us to a rather obvious deduction: The authors of Matthew and Luke could only have got the particulars from Jesus himself. He shared the stories of his testing, probably with his students. Probably to teach ’em the sort of stuff the devil tries to use on us. And teach ’em how to resist.

In the Matthew and Luke versions, they’re not in the same order.

Matthew	Luke
Rocks to bread. Mt 4.2-4 Dive from temple. Mt 4.5-7 Bow to Satan. Mt 4.8-10	Rocks to bread. Lk 4.2-4 Bow to Satan. Lk 4.5-8 Dive from temple. Lk 4.9-12

Why? There’s some speculation about the meaning of Luke’s order, but I don’t buy ’em. Luke is more likely the original story’s order. Matthew, in comparison, is focused on the kingdom, so the tests escalate from Jesus’s personal needs, to Jesus impressing Jerusalem, to Jesus conquering the world. Makes sense.

The baptism of Jesus. And adoption. And anointing.

Mark 1.9-11, Matthew 3.13-17, Luke 3.21-22, John 1.29-34.

Mark 1.9 KWL

It happened in those days Jesus came from Nazareth of the Galilee,

and was baptized by John in the Jordan.

 

Matthew 3.13-15 KWL

13 Then Jesus came from the Galilee to the Jordan,

to John, to be baptized by him.

14 John was preventing him, saying,

“I need to be baptized by you!

And you come to me?”

15 In reply Jesus told him, “Just permit it.

It’s appropriate for us to fulfill everything that’s right.”

So John permitted him.

Okay: Baptism, i.e. ritual washing, was usually for Jews who were ritually unclean: They’d touched an animal they weren’t allowed to eat, anything they found dead, an open wound; they’d expelled bodily fluids of one sort or another; in general they needed to wash themselves and their clothes before they went to temple. John the baptist co-opted the ritual and used it on sinners who wanted to repent and get morally clean. Same practice, new idea.

So when Jesus comes south from the Galilee, goes to the Jordan, and wants to get baptized, John rightly objected. I’ll write it again: Rightly objected. His baptism was for sinners. Was Jesus a sinner? Nope. Did Jesus need to repent? Nope. So what’d he think he was doing? If a man goes through a baptism of repentance, yet he isn’t repentant at all and feels there’s nothing for him to repent of… wouldn’t we ordinarily call this hypocrisy?

Yeah, but it’s Jesus. So we give him a free pass.

Should we? If it were any other guy getting baptized for show, we’d point out the playacting and call it deceptive. Aren’t we letting the doctrines we cling to—that Jesus never sinned He 4.15 —blind us to the very real fact that Jesus didn’t need John’s baptism at all, yet went through it because it looks good?

Okay, now that I’ve dug myself into this big rhetorical hole, how’m I getting myself out of it?

John the baptist’s message for everyone else.

Mark 1.7-8, Matthew 3.11-12, Luke 3.10-20, John 1.24-28.

Last time I dealt with what John the baptist had to say to religious folks—people who already followed God, or at least were active in temple and synagogue. John didn’t come to preach to them; they already had prophets, and shouldn’t need to come to John and repent. He came to reach the people who had no relationship with God, who needed to get ready for their coming Messiah.

But you might notice Luke describes John’s message to the religious folks as being directed towards everyone. Religious and irreligious alike.

Luke 3.7-14 KWL

7 John said this to the crowds coming to be baptized by him:

“You viper-spawn! Who warned you to escape the wrath of God?

8 Fine then: Produce worthy fruits, from repentant people.

Don’t start to tell yourselves, ‘We have a father in Abraham’:

From these rocks, I tell you, God can raise up children for Abraham.

9 Plus, the axe lays at the root of the tree right now.

So every tree not producing good fruit is cut down and thrown into fire.”

10 The crowds were questioning John, saying, “So what can we do?”

11 In reply John told them, “You who have two tunics: Share with those who don’t.

You who have food: Do likewise.”

12 Taxmen came to be baptized and told John, “Teacher, what can we do?”

13 John told them, “Do nothing more than you were ordered.”

14 Soldiers were questioning John, saying, “And we, what can we do?”

John told them, “You could stop shaking people down, or stop accusing them falsely.

Be content with your paychecks.”

I explained the whole worthy fruits, making Abraham’s children from rocks, and axe at the foot of the tree stuff in the previous article. Here Luke included John’s corrections to the people who came to him for baptism.

In general the problem was stinginess. The crowds needed to share their food and clothing with the needy. Yes, the Law had a sort of welfare system built in so farmers would leave gleanings for the needy, Lv 19.9-10 and so every third-year’s tithes would go to the needy. Dt 14.28 But then, same as now, people don’t bother to do any more than their obligations, and share food and clothing only with people we consider worthy—not so much needy. Loving our neighbor Lv 19.18 gets limited to thinking pleasant thoughts about them, not doing for them. It’s an attitude which always needs breaking.

The ministry of John the baptist.

Mark 1.2-6, Matthew 3.1-6, Luke 3.1-6, John 1.6-8.

John 1.6-8 KWL

6 A person came who’d been sent by God, named John, 7 who came to testify.

When he testified about the light, everyone might believe because of him.

8 He wasn’t the light, but he’d testify about the light.

9 The actual light, who lights every person, was coming into the world.

Luke 3.1-3 KWL

1 In the 15th year of Tiberius Caesar’s governance, Pontius Pilatus governing Judea,

Antipas Herod as governor over the Galilee, Philip Herod his brother as governor over Ituría and Trachonítis provinces,

Lysanias as governor over Abiliní, 2 Annas and Joseph Kahiáfa as head priests,

God’s message came through John bar Zechariah, in the countryside.

3 He went into all the land round the Jordan,

preaching a baptism of repentance—to have one’s sins forgiven—

 

Mark 1.2-3 KWL

2 Like it’s written in the prophet Isaiah:

“Look, I send my agent to your face, who’ll prepare your road.” Ml 3.1

3 “A voice shouting out in the countryside:

‘Prepare the Lord’s road! Make him a straight path!’” Is 40.3

 

Matthew 3.1-3 KWL

1 In those days John the baptist appeared, preaching in the Judean countryside,

2 saying, “Repent! For heaven’s kingdom has come near.”

3 For this is the word through the prophet Isaiah. Quote:

“A voice shouting out in the countryside:

‘Prepare the Lord’s road! Make him a straight path!’” Is 40.3

 

Luke 3.4-6 KWL

4 like the prophet Isaiah’s sayings, written in the bible:

“A voice shouting out in the countryside:

‘Prepare the Lord’s road! Make him a straight path!’

5 All ravines will be filled; all roads and hills knocked down.

The crooked will be straightened; the rough into smooth roads.

6 All flesh will see God’s rescue.” Is 40.3-5

Jesus’s story begins with John bar Zachariah, “the baptist.” (As opposed to “the Baptist,” meaning someone from the Baptist movement, which takes its customs of believer-baptism and full immersion from John’s practice.)

John doesn’t come first just ’cause of the chronology—John was prophesied to his father before Jesus was to his mother; John was born before Jesus; John’s ministry began before Jesus’s. The chronology was kinda irrelevant, because as John himself pointed out, Jesus existed before he did. Jn 1.30 And as the gospel of John points out, the word of God, the light of the world: John came to testify about that light, and point people to him.

That was John’s job. He was Jesus’s opening act.

Yeah, Christians tend to call him Jesus’s forerunner. Which he kinda was. But a “forerunner” in antiquity was simply the guy who ran way in front of the caravan—whether a visiting lord or invading army—and announce they’re coming. Again, John kinda was that. But he didn’t just proclaim Messiah, or God’s kingdom, was coming. He got people ready for the coming, by getting ’em to repent, by washing them clean first.

Christians also tend to call him Jesus’s herald. He was kinda that too. But a herald came instead of the person whose message he brought. You know, like prophets tell us what God’s saying, instead of (or in addition to) God telling us what he’s saying. John wasn’t a substitute for the Messiah he preceded; he said his superior was coming right behind him, and he considered himself unworthy to take Messiah’s shoes off. Mk 1.7 But Jesus would soon speak for himself.

John’s ministry began, as Luke pins it down, in the year 28, when both he and Jesus (figuring they were born in 7BC or so) were about 34 years old. He’s described as being in the erímo/“countryside,” which the KJV and many translations render “wilderness”—but erímos means undeveloped, unfarmed land; places people didn’t live or work, and couldn’t drive John off as a nuisance. There, he announced the kingdom was coming—so people, get ready.

Introducing Jesus. Well, his gospels. Well, him too.

The four different perspectives on Jesus.

Mark 1.1 • Matthew 1.1 • Luke 1.1-4 • John 1.1-18

Mark 1.1 KWL 1 The start of the gospel of Christ Jesus, son of God.	Luke 1.1-4 KWL 1 Because many attempted to compose a narrative about the things which had been fulfilled in our religion, 2 just as the first eyewitnesses handed things down to us and became servants of the word, 3 I also thought, having closely, accurately followed everything from the start; I wrote you, honorable Theófilus, 4 so you could know about what you were taught. An accurate word.
Matthew 1.1 KWL 1 The book of the genesis of Christ Jesus, bar David, bar Abraham.

These are the introductions to the synoptic gospels, the three gospels in the New Testament which tend to sync up with one another. Obviously there are differences in their intros. Mark starts abruptly, and in the very next verse gets straight away to John the Baptist, who leads into the story of Jesus. Matthew refers to the genesis of Jesus: His ancestry and birth. From here we go to a big list of who begat whom, stretching all the way back to Abraham.

Unlike the others, the author of Luke (what the heck, we’ll assume it’s actually St. Luke, same as the other traditional authors) explained to his recipient exactly why he wrote his gospel. Others have done gospels, but Luke did an extra-thorough job to find the truth and present something accurate we can base our religion upon. So here’s the real history of Christ Jesus. Theófilus might be the recipient’s real name, but in those no-freedom-of-religion days there’s just as much a chance it’s an alias: Theófilus means “God-lover.”

John tends to go its own way, so its introduction is a bit longer and more theological.

John 1.1-18 KWL

1 The word’s in the beginning. The word’s with God. The word is God.

2 He’s in the beginning with God. 3 Everything came to be through him.

Nothing that exists came to be without him. 4 What came to be through him, was 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, named John, 7 who came to testify.

When he testified about the light, everyone might believe because of him.

8 He wasn’t the light, but he’d testify about the light.

9 The actual light, who lights every person, was coming into the world.

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

Yet the world doesn’t know him.

11 He came to his own people, and his own people don’t accept him;

12 of those who do accept him, those who put faith in his name,

he gives them power to become God’s children.

13 Not by blood, nor bodily will, nor a man’s will, but generated by God.

14 The word was made flesh. He encamped with us.

We got a good look at his significance—

the significance of a father’s only son—filled with grace and truth.

15 John testifies about him, saying as he called out, “This is the one I spoke of!

‘The one coming after me has got in front of me’—because he’s first.”

16 All of us received things out of his fullness. Grace after grace:

17 The Law which Moses gave; the grace and truth which Christ Jesus became.

18 Nobody’s ever seen God.

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

It’s deep, so I’ll analyze John’s intro in more detail another time.