The “spirit of Jezebel.”

Every so often, Christian preachers will denounce what they call a “Jezebel spirit” in their churches. Some of ’em do it all the time, so they presume their churches know what they mean by that. ’Tain’t always so.

No, it’s not the ghost of Queen Jezebel bat Ethbaal of Samaria, possessing somebody and making ’em do evil stuff. Nor even is it the way Jezebel acted or behaved. Might be closer to the way Bette Davis’s strong-willed character Julie behaved in the 1938 movie Jezebel, but that’s assuming anyone’s even seen the movie, and betcha they haven’t.

It’s meant to be based on something Jesus said in Revelation. But since Jesus didn’t spell out what he meant, people guess at it, typically guess wrong, and claim all sorts of behaviors they don’t like “come from a Jezebel spirit.”

Let’s dig into biblical history, and from there we can see where all the usual popular misinterpretations come from.

Jezebel of Samaria.

Jezebel bat Ethbaal of Sidon (Hebrew אִיזֶבֶל/Iyzevél, probably meaning “exalt Baal”) first comes up in 1 Kings 16.31, when King Ahab ben Omri of Samaria married her.

Up to that point in the Deuteronomistic History, the historian (whom for convenience I’ll call “Sam”) compared every rotten king of Samaria to their first king, Jeroboam ben Nebat, who corrupted the LORD’s worship by building worship sites for him in Dan and Bethel—and by putting gold calves there. But Ahab outpaced Jeroboam by miles. Jeroboam’s sin was using idols to represent the LORD, and otherwise permitting idolatry in general. Ahab, however, was a full-on pagan. He didn’t dabble in false gods on the side; he devotedly worshiped Ašur, the Baal of the Assyrian Empire.

“Baal” means “master,” and it’s a generic title for the many Canaanite gods in the bible. Thanks to ritual sex with temple prostitutes being a big part of pagan worship, Baalism was extremely popular. Ahab promoted Ašur like crazy. More: He married a Sidonian princess who was just as much into Baalism as he. Maybe even more.

Sam took issue with Jezebel because she was really into Baal. So much so, she actively tried to eradicate the LORD’s prophets, 1Ki 18.4 who had likely denounced all the idolatry and reminded the people Israeli kings were mandated to follow the Law. Dt 17.18-20 Of course if the king didn’t even worship the God who mandated the Law, he was hardly likely to follow it.

In Israel kings were under the Law; in Jezebel’s homeland of Sidon kings were above it. This is why, when Ahab was unsuccessful in convincing his neighbor Naboth to sell him a vineyard, Jezebel had no qualms about arranging for Naboth’s death (on the grounds of blaspheming God, of all things) so Ahab could seize the vineyard. 1Ki 18.1-16 Various Christians look at Jezebel’s actions in the Naboth story and presume she overstepped her role, but really she didn’t: Jezebel told her husband she’d get him that vineyard, 1Ki 21.7 and Ahab was perfectly happy with her results. She did nothing behind his back; she did everything with his approval. She usurped nothing.

Sam’s objection wasn’t about Jezebel “not knowing her place,” but that Ahab “sold himself to do evil in the LORD’s eyes,” 1Ki 21.20 and follow Jezebel instead of the LORD. There’s nothing wrong with following your wife when she’s following God, and doing what’s good and righteous. There’s everything wrong with endorsing murder, slander, and theft. The issue isn’t usurpation, but evil. 1Ki 21.25

Hence the LORD’s prophet Elijah declared Jezebel would die, be left unburied, and get eaten by dogs. The next we see her, in 2 Kings 9, that’s just what happens. Army commander Jehu ben Jehoshaphat was ordered by a prophet to destroy King Joram ben Ahab, plus Ahab’s whole family, 2Ki 9.6-10 which he did.

Before Jehu killed Joram, he shouted, “How can there be peace when your mother Jezebel commits so much whoring and sorcery?” 2Ki 9.22 Many Christians interpret this to mean Jezebel was literally a whore and sorcerer, and teach this. For some odd reason they totally forgot “Your mom’s a whore” and “Your mom’s a witch” are two age-old insults. Translators really don’t catch this either. Even paraphrased bibles take Jehu literally. Certainly Baalism had a lot of ritual sex and ritual magic, and certainly Jezebel indulged in both. “But the queen does it” is a convenient rationalization for any Israelis who were tempted to try Baalism for themselves. She totally influenced many towards evil. But taking Jehu literally is an iffy interpretation.

Anyway. When Jehu arrived at the royal house in Jezreel, Jezebel did something which strikes many present-day readers as odd: She put on her makeup and fixed her hair. 2Ki 9.30 In American culture, women didn’t wear makeup for about three centuries; only actors and whores did. So our culture still frequently assumes this “painted Jezebel” did this so she might seduce Jehu. It’s a laughable interpretation: It doesn’t fit at all with her words, ’cause as Jehu entered the grounds, she taunted him and called him a murderer. 2Ki 9.31 What’s more likely is she knew she was gonna die, and hoped to go to her death looking decent.

Which just wasn’t gonna happen. Jehu had two eunuchs throw her out of the window, then ran over her with his chariot horses. 2Ki 9.32-33 When he finally bothered to have her buried, he found the dogs had got to her first, 2Ki 9.34-37 just as Elijah had said.

Jezebel of Thyatira.

When Jesus appeared to John and had him write Revelation, his message to his church of Thyatira was largely this.

Revelation 2.20-25 KWL

20 “But I have against you that you forgive the woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophet.

She teaches, and leads my slaves astray into porn and eating idol-offerings.

21 I gave her time to repent, and she didn’t want to repent of her porn.

22 Look, I throw her, and the adulterers with her, into bed and great suffering,

lest they repent of her works. 23 I’ll put her children to death.

Everyone in the churches will know I’m the one who examines minds and hearts,

and I give to each person according to your works.

24 I tell the rest of you Thyatirans, whoever doesn’t have this teaching,

whoever doesn’t know ‘Satan’s deep things,’ as they’re called,

I don’t put any other burdens on you.

25 Only cling to what you already have till I come.”

Revelation is an apocalypse, a prophecy where, like parables, the images and words in it represent other things. This woman wasn’t literally named Jezebel. Jesus picked the name because this fake prophet in Thyatira, just like Jezebel of Samaria, was a total devotee to the immoral idols of her homeland instead of the LORD.

Jezebel of Thyatira was enabling idolatry in Jesus’s church, just like Jezebel of Israel had enabled idolatry in ancient Israel. This is only speculation, but I would guess she was teaching ’em God’s grace made it okay for them to dabble in idolatry. Ancient Roman paganism wasn’t a whole lot different from Baalism, particularly in the ritual sex and ritual magic. So it was having the same effects: The Christians were becoming immoral and evil. And just as the LORD sent Elijah to Jezebel and Ahab to get ’em to repent, Jesus gave this woman plenty of time to repent too. But now it was time for consequences. Sounds like illness; probably sexually transmitted diseases, or at least food poisoning.

That’s the real issue: False teaching. Idolatry. Heresy. Christians who think it’s okay to be Christian, but dabble in other religions and spiritualities. We got a number of not-all-that-devout Christians who don’t really care to go much deeper into Christianity, but are sorta curious about what Hinduism or Buddhism or Wicca or Spiritualism teaches, and wonder if they can’t mix a few of those beliefs into the pile.

But we can’t be Christian and dabble in other religions. You can’t be a Christian Wiccan, or a Christian Hindu, or a Christian Spiritualist. You can try to be a Jewish Christian, thanks to the huge amount of overlap; but as both Jews and Christians recognize, your ultimate affiliation is with Christ Jesus. Exactly as Jesus taught about money, we can’t serve two masters. Mt 6.24 One’s gonna win out. When Buddhism and Christianity don’t overlap, a “Buddhist Christian” is gonna follow either the Buddha or the Christ—and if they go back and forth between their two gurus, they’re really following neither; they’re doing as they please.

So Jezebelism is really about that. But of course, Christians popularly presume it’s either about usurpation or loose women.

Usurpation.

Usurpation means seizing control that’s not rightfully yours. This is a valid problem in our churches. But sometimes it’s not. Valid instances would be churches with

• A self-anointed prophet who wants everyone to recognize their authority as God’s mouthpiece.
• A group of “concerned members” who think their numbers gives ’em the right to circulate petitions, overthrow leaders, overrule their pastors, or otherwise wield power.
• People who use financial manipulation to get their way: “I tithe a lot of money to this church, and if I don’t see ‘proper changes’ I think I’ll have to donate it elsewhere.”
• Those who sue to get their way.
• Teachers who will hear no correction or rebuke from anyone, ’cause they’re the teacher and they’re right.
• The pastor’s spouse, siblings, or kids, who think the pastor’s authority automatically applies to them too—despite their lack of ability, maturity, or anointing.

Invalid instances would be cults. Or any church where the leadership is micromanagerial or tighly controlled. Where you might be put in charge of something, and given a title, but you don’t actually get to make real decisions; you’re like a high school student body president who hasn’t yet realized the principal and faculty really runs things.

Fact is, in every church God gave supernatural gifts to most of the people in it, if not all. Meaning most of the people in a church should be able to lead in some capacity. New believers should be given very little leadership authority, ’cause they still need to develop character (i.e. be fruity). Whereas mature believers should be given as much authority as possible, ’cause they know what they’re doing and can support the pastors. Pastors can identify who is whom; responsibilities can be delegated appropriately; the church can work together in harmony. And everyone recognizes their true place: Under Jesus.

The unhealthy church puts all that responsibility on only the pastor’s shoulders, or only on a tight group of elders. Not so much Jesus’s. And these folks jealously guard their power, and fight off anyone who tries to take it. It doesn’t look at all like God’s kingdom, where the greatest is everyone’s servant; it looks like a city council, or a dictatorship, Mk 10.42-44) or Ahab’s kingdom—where the worry about a person like Jezebel would be far more valid.

In a church where everyone recognizes all authority is submtted to Jesus, anyone who tries to grab some immediately stands out, like a tree in a wheat field. That’s how we fight usurpers: Surrender. Not to them, but to God. When it’s all given to him, there’s none left for them, and you starve ’em out.

But again: Jezebel of Thyatira’s problem wasn’t usurpation. She didn’t take over Thyatira’s church. Instead they tolerated her. They forgave her. They kept letting her lead people astray. The problem is false teaching, not bad leaders.

Sexuality and sexism.

Lastly, “Jezebel” is too often misinterpreted to mean a seductress. Christians zoom in on the sex parts of Jesus’s warning, and figure there’s the entire problem right there: We got a seductress in the church who’s leading the men into adultery, whoring, and other vices. We got a girl who’s too promiscuous, and having her around is giving people the idea promiscuity is okay. Or we got a girl who people assume is promiscuous because they’d like to sleep with her: She’s really attractive, or she wears too much makeup and too few clothes, or—intentionally or not—she distracts the preacher with her boobs when he’s trying to think holy thoughts. (Or in Paul’s case, distracts him with her hair.) Get those women out of there, or at least put a burka on ’em.

This might be a valid problem… but usually the real issue is men who lack self-control. Or men who are too promiscuous, and likewise having them around is giving people the idea promiscuity is okay… for men, anyway.

But even when we understand Jesus correctly, “Jezebel” is only used to refer to women. How often are men called “Jezebels,” or get accused of having a Jezebel spirit? (Or even “an Ahab spirit”?) Frankly they don’t. Even when they actually are being like Jezebel of Thyatira. I’ve seen many a male false teacher or false prophet try to sway a church in the wrong direction, and nobody even thought to call them Jezebels.

Sexuality, or threats to power, tend to produce an emotional reaction in people. Particularly people who covet power or sex. It’s because of these gut-level responses that people are slow to recognize they’re using the term “Jezebel” wrong… or to stop using it wrong even when they know what it properly means. So don’t be too surprised to see the misinterpretation perpetuate itself.

Loving the world: Do or don’t?

Let’s start with some contradictory-sounding scriptures, shall we?

1 John 2.15-17 KJV

15 Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. 17 And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.

 

John 3.16-17 KJV

16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. 17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.

Nope, John wasn’t using one of the other Greek words for “love” in these verses. Same one, ἀγαπάω/aghapáo, “to love.” Don’t love the world, he advises in his letter; but Jesus states in the gospel God loves the world, and sent us his Son to save it. So… don’t love the world, but God loves the world.

Plus Jesus instructs us to love everybody:

Mark 12.31 KJV

And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.

 

John 15.12 KJV

This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you.

 

Matthew 5.44-45 KJV

44 But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; 45 That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

Between loving your neighbor, loving fellow Christians, and loving your enemies, that’s pretty much everybody on the planet. Sounds like we gotta love our world. So where does John get off telling us to not love the world?

Obviously it depends on what we mean by “world.” Same as English, the Greek word κόσμος/kósmos generally means “world,” but it has multiple shades of meaning: The planet we live on, everything on the planet we live on, just the people of the planet we live on, and those people’s power or wealth or interests or opinions. Calvinists add another definition—“the Christian world,” or Christendom—so they can explain how God loving the world really means he only loves the elect, and Jesus only died for Christians. Which is rubbish, but it’s one of their essential doctrines, and they’re kinda fond of redefining words to make the bible support their doctrines.

Anyway yeah, when John and Jesus are speaking of the world, they’re using different definitions of kósmos. You can figure out which by the context. Unless you don’t care about context, and are simply trying to justify loving the world, or not… and in both cases secretly plotting to love (or not love) the wrong world.

Jesus is talking about loving the people of the planet we live on. (Duh.) If you have the Holy Spirit, he loves the world, and when we follow him and produce his fruit, we’re gonna love the world. Even when the people of this planet are awful to one another and to us—and they do this quite a lot—we’re still gonna want the best for them, and want ’em to repent and be saved instead of getting destroyed by their own vices and stupidity. True of fellow Christians, true of neighbors, and with time and effort on our part it’s even true of enemies. Hey, a repentant enemy usually stops being an enemy.

John wrote about society. He lived in the pre-Christian and very pagan Roman Empire, where people worshiped and followed anything and everything. Heck, people are still that way, lip service to Jesus notwithstanding; note their fruit. You don’t wanna love that. It’s so contrary to God, you gotta wonder whether people who immerse themselves in our culture even know God; John certainly didn’t think so. I tend to give Christianists the benefit of my doubts and assume they just have sucky relationships with God; a really superficial knowledge of him at least. But many of ’em are pretty far gone towards “the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life.” It hasn’t been about what Jesus teaches for a very, very long time.

People can be saved. But the culture’s gotta go. And it will; give it a decade. It’ll be replaced by something just as dumb. It’s why investing our time, our lives, our beings into it is so wasteful. Why loving it—why exhibiting that patience, kindness, forgiveness, grace, and passion towards it instead of people—is not just a massive waste of spiritual resources, but ultimately self-destructive as well. It’s like jumping out of a lifeboat because you think you saw a mermaid… and clearly all you know about mermaids comes from movies and comic books, ’cause in all the myths, mermaids eat sailors.

Humans are creatures of extremes, and sometimes that’s because we’re looking for an excuse to do as we please. So you’ll get Christians who sometimes insist, “The bible says to not love the world,” and use it as their excuse to utterly disconnect. From everything. Not just from popular culture, from social media, from reading the news, from even the electrical grid; from living like Mennonites where they obviously care about people, but make an equally obvious point of having nothing to do with worldly culture. Nope; it’s more of a bunker mentality, where they withdraw from society and withdraw from everybody else. Where they have nothing to do with anyone. They just stay at home, demonstrating with their very behavior why God once commented, “It is not good that the man should be alone.” Ge 2.18

If you wanna be antisocial, the bible’s not gonna back you up. Loving your neighbor obligates us to get out of our bubbles and interact. Doesn’t have to be in person; we’ve got phones and internet. But it does have to happen, ’cause if Jesus isn’t teaching us about interacting with God, he’s teaching us to interact with fellow humans. So go find some fellow humans and love ’em.

The other extreme, naturally, is people who wanna justify being culturally immersed. Supposedly we can’t share Jesus with pagans unless we have points of common reference; we gotta know something about the culture in order to be “relevant.” And yeah, there’s wisdom in that: We should check out the news and know what’s going on in our world. But John’s instructions to his church was to not love it. Love God, love people; but if we love music and books and baseball and TV and politics instead of people and God, we’re blowing it big-time.

People are eternal. The culture, not so much. So let’s get our priorities straight.

Pray like Elijah.

When our pastors encourage us to pray, sometimes they do it by quoting this particular verse. Maybe not in the NKJV as I’m about to, but all the good translations have the same gist.

James 5.16-18 NKJV

16 Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much. 17 Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed earnestly that it would not rain; and it did not rain on the land for three years and six months. 18 And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth produced its fruit.

“See?” they conclude: “Elijah was a person just like us. Bible says so. And when he prayed, it stopped raining for three and a half years; 1Ki 17.1-7 and when he prayed again, it rained like crazy. 1Ki 18.41-46 Your prayers can have just as much effect as his. So pray!”

Yeah, but… Elijah wasn’t a person just like us.

I mean he’s human like us. James says that, anyway: He has “a nature like ours,” or as the KJV put it “subject to like passions as we are,” Jm 5.17 KJV which is their way of translating ἦν ὁμοιοπαθὴς ἡμῖν/in omiopathís ymín, “with the same pathology as us,” or in clearer English, “felt exactly like we do [when we pray].” That’s the point pastors wanna make: You got doubts; Elijah had doubts. But he prayed and God did stuff. So pray, and watch God do stuff!

But the part of that passage we keep going back to is “The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.” A righteous man.

Elijah was righteous. As for us… well, we’re not so sure we’re righteous.

Obviously there are Christians who feel plenty righteous, and are naming-it-and-claiming-it full speed ahead. Is God giving ’em what they demand from him? Not always. In fact the more arrogant they get, the less he cares to give ’em, ’cause God doesn’t wanna encourage this kind of prideful dickishness in his kids. Certainly they’re not who we think of when we’re talking righteousness. We’re thinking of Elijah, and trying to measure ourselves up to him.

And sometimes incorrectly, ’cause we got the wrong definition of righteous on the brain: We imagine it means good. The prayer of a good person is gonna work… and we’re not so good. Not as good as Elijah. So if we want prayer results, we gotta become as good as Elijah. Gotta rack up some good karma, and then God’ll recognize us as being worthy of granting us our requests. Till we do, of course we’re not getting what we want; God doesn’t listen to dirty sinners.

Okay, time to remind everyone: Righteous means we’re in the right standing with God. How do we get righteous? By trusting God.

Galatians 3.11 ESV

Now it is evident that no one is justified before God by the law, for “The righteous shall live by faith.” Hb 2.4

You wanna be righteous like Elijah? It’s not about being good like Elijah. We have no stories in the scriptures about how he was particularly good; about his acts of charity and Law-following and other good deeds. We have loads of stories about how he trusted God, and how far that took him. You wanna be righteous like Elijah, you gotta trust God like Elijah.

And yeah, Elijah struggled with trust issues. After he prayed for the rain to stop, after he called down fire from heaven to burn up an offering (and the entire stone altar it sat on), 1Ki 18 one little death threat from the queen got him to flee for his life, go to Mt. Sinai in Midian, and complain to God about how it seemed the whole world was out to get him. No it wasn’t, said the LORD; go back and get back to work. 1Ki 19 Elijah certainly didn’t have unshakable faith. Like James said, he was a man with a nature like ours.

Elijah prayed for massive things and God met those requests, and I suspect that’s because Elijah already lived a lifestyle of praying for small things and God meeting those requests. He had to grow his faith to the point where praying for big things was doable. Still might’ve been a faith challenge, depending on how impossible these things looked, but if you’ve regularly seen God grant prayer requests, it gets less and less impossible-looking over time. So that’s my advice to you: If you’ve gotta grow your faith to Elijah-level proportions, start small and work your way up.

But faith, not good works, is how we get righteousness. (Good works is simply the fruit.) You wanna be the righteous person whose prayers avail much? Work on the faith.

Saved from what?

Four things you’re gonna notice about every religion in the world:

• They try to explain who God is, and what he’s like: Caring nurturer, or wrathful disciplinarian? Disconnected first cause, or deterministic micromanager? The sum total of everything in the universe, or totally removed from everything? The object of all our faith and devotion, or not relevant? The only thing that’s real, or doesn’t even exist? Where does he fit between these extremes?—or is he paradoxically both?
• They try to explain what happens after we die: Afterlife, new life, another life, or annihilation?
• Morality: How ought humans live?—in light of who God is, or in light of what happens after we die.
• How ought we compensate our clergy for all the valuable insights they’ve given us? Money? Free stuff? Sex?

Yeah, that fourth thing is a bit cynical, but the issue is there, y’know. Even in the benign religions.

But why do people pursue religions in the first place? Simple: It’s salvation. They wanna get saved.

Saved from what? Well, that varies.

Yeah, my fellow Christians are gonna tell you we need to be saved from sin and death. As will I, ’cause we do. That is what Christ Jesus offers. But it’s not necessarily what people are thinking of when they first look into Christianity. Or look into any other religion: Buddhism, Islam, Wicca, Mammonism. Or, because they don’t wanna be told what to believe, cobble together their own belief system so they can be “spiritual not religious.”

Most want to be saved from their circumstances. Their lives suck. They’re addicted to alcohol, food, sex, or narcotics; their relationships are out of control; their finances are insane. Some live in awful countries, with warlords who threaten their livelihoods and lives. And even when all those things are fine, there’s something in ’em which is just dissatisfied with life, and they can’t put their finger on it. So they figure God has the answer. Since this desire is so common, you’ll notice most Christian evangelists talk about being saved from this instead of sin and death. (Hey, a lousy life is no doubt the result of sin, right?) Turn to God and he’ll get your life right, and give you peace no matter what’s going on.

Many of ’em are looking to be saved from doubt. They wanna know why the universe works the way it does: Why do bad things happen to good people? They wanna know who or what God is. They wanna know what happens after death—not because they’re worried about death itself, for they figure whatever happens, happens. It just bugs ’em they don’t have simple answers to these questions. Or at least answers they’re comfortable with.

Many want to be saved from worry. Because they are worried about death: They don’t wanna cease to exist, or don’t wanna find themselves in a black cavernous chaotic nothingness, or are afraid of finding themselves in hell, and worry hell’s gonna look like the very worst horror movies. And again, many Christian evangelists zero in on these fears, and preach almost exclusively about getting saved from hellfire.

But back to sin and death.

Christianity focuses only on Jesus saving us from sin and death. Yeah, he could save us from circumstances, worries, and doubts too. And maybe he will. But what he’ll definitely do is save us from sin and death.

Oh you want proof texts? Yeah, let’s do proof texts. Sin first:

Matthew 1.21 KJV

And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his people from their sins.

 

1 Corinthians 15.3 KJV

For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures;

 

1 Timothy 1.15 KJV

This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.

Now death.

Luke 9.56 KJV

For the Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them. And they went to another village.

 

John 3.16 KJV

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

 

John 10.28 KJV

And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.

 

1 Corinthians 15.22 KJV

For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.

The two are of course related. Sin produces death. Ro 3.23 We sin; it gradually but definitely kills us. And others: Humans murder innocent people, like infants and fetuses, all the time. One human pollutes and another gets poisoned; one human cuts corners and another gets killed from shoddy craftsmanship. Jesus is a perfect example of a totally innocent victim: He never sinned, so his own sins didn’t kill him. But the Judeans’ and Romans’ sins absolutely did—and by extension humanity’s sins did too, ’cause Jesus would never have to come into the world to show us the Father Jn 1.18 if our sins didn’t distort our ideas of God so very much.

Jesus’s solution to the problem is not to merely give us a nice afterlife. It’s the kingdom of God—in which he’s the king. It’s to transform us through his Holy Spirit so we can be citizens of this kingdom. It’s to follow him by behaving as citizens of this kingdom; to do as he teaches. And if we’re pursuing God’s kingdom, our circumstances and worries and doubts tend to sort themselves out:

Matthew 6.33 KJV

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

“These things” being the worries of food and clothing—petty worries for the middle class, but serious needs for the impoverished people to whom Jesus preached. No, Jesus isn’t blowing off our serious needs, and telling us, “Forget about that; concentrate just on being religious.” He’s trying to restructure our priorities correctly. Most of our other worries are likewise the product of sin. So let’s root out the underlying cancer first. And Jesus is here to help.

The Mizpah covenant.

Genesis 31.48-49.

When I was a kid, and people hadn’t yet figured out how to use the internet for shopping, my family got the Sears catalog. Basically it was a 500-page, full-color, softcover book. It’d contain every single thing Sears sold—particularly stuff you couldn’t find in its stores, but thanks to the catalog you could order it by phone. Then wait 4 weeks for it to be delivered. Yep, a month. Sometimes longer. (Anyone who’s nostalgic for “the good old days” is a moron.)

A typical mizpah coin.

When bored I’d browse the things. Usually the toys. But next to the toy section was the jewelry section, and among the baubles Sears offered were mizpah coins. Maybe you’ve seen them too… or maybe half of one. They’re meant for couples. The coin is split in two, and one partner gets one half, the other t’other. You have to put them together to read the entire verse:

Genesis 31.48-49 KJV

48 And Laban said, This heap is a witness between me and thee this day. Therefore was the name of it called Galeed; 49 and Mizpah; for he said, The LORD watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another.

Aww, how romantic. May God watch over us when we’re apart.

Except in context, it’s not at all romantic. Laban and Jacob didn’t make a pile of stones and swear this oath because they were gonna miss one another, and want each other to be safe. It was because they didn’t trust one another. For good reason: Both those guys were lying, scheming weasels.

If you have the context of this verse in mind, giving it to your significant other kinda means you don’t trust your significant other. Which is why you gotta invoke the LORD. He’s gotta watch over your partner, because for all you know, your partner’s banging their way through every bar in the state. And, like Jacob or Laban, totally lying to you about everything, and they have no idea why it burns when you urinate. Probably something you did.

The funny thing about most people is it often doesn’t matter if they know the context: They’ll still totally quote it out of context anyway. I’ve known preachers who taught, in great detail, on the seriously dysfunctional relationships Jacob had with his family. They know all about why Laban and Jacob made their mizpah pile. And yet they and their spouses wear mizpah coins… because that’s not what they mean with their mizpah coins. Well if that’s not what you mean, stop referencing bible!

But enough ranting. Let’s get to the actual context.

Untrustworthy men; totally trustworthy God.

Jacob is the second son of Isaac ben Abraham, whom the LORD later renamed Israel. Yep, the Israelis are descended from him; the 13 tribes are named for his 11 sons and two grandsons. He’s kind of a big deal.

Customarily the eldest son would inherit the patriarchy from his father, but Genesis tells two stories of Jacob scheming to get the birthright away from his slightly-elder twin brother Esau. First he traded Esau lentil stew for his birthright. Ge 25.29-34 Next—and far less honestly—Jacob disguised himself as Esau so his near-blind father would grant him Esau’s irrevocable birthright-type blessing. Ge 27 This pissed Esau off to the point he meant to murder Jacob, and to keep him alive, Jacob’s mother got her husband to send Jacob to her family in Paddán-Arám, ostensibly to find a Hebrew wife. (Esau had two Canaanite wives, and the family did not get along with ’em.)

In Paddán-Arám, Jacob fell immediately, and hard, for his first cousin Rachel bat Laban. (Eww.) He had no wealth to speak of, so Laban got him to agree to seven years of labor in exchange for Rachel. A typical dowry in the ancient middle east was 30 sheqels of silver, and a typical labor was a sheqel a month, so properly that’s about four years of labor, not seven; but Jacob was too lovestruck to haggle. But then Laban swapped out Rachel for his other daughter Leah on their wedding night, and by the time Jacob discovered the switch it was too late; they’d had sex, so they were married. If Jacob wanted Rachel as a second wife, it was gonna cost him another seven years. Laban got 14 years labor out of Jacob; 10 years more than Jacob should’ve reasonably expected. Ge 29 Obviously Jacob met a superior con artist.

After that, Jacob worked for wages. Which Laban kept changing; likely decreasing, ’cause “expenses.” So Jacob came up with a scheme where he finally came out ahead: Laban gave him all the striped and speckled goats, and the brown sheep, as wages. Jacob did some weird folk-medicine thing with sticks which got his own animals to breed more. Ge 30 Once Laban’s sons objected that Jacob was getting too prosperous, the LORD informed Jacob that maybe now was the time to go back to Canaan. So he did… but because he didn’t inform Laban, much less get his permission as his patriarch, Laban came after him. Ge 31 After all, Laban’s attitude was, “These daughters are my daughters, and these children are my children, and these cattle are my cattle, and all that thou seest is mine.” Ge 31.43 KJV He didn’t see Jacob as his nephew or son-in-law; just a subject he could exploit.

But the LORD told Laban to leave Jacob be, Ge 31.24 and Laban did heed the LORD, if no one else. He wouldn’t just leave Jacob alone though; he wanted a covenant which stipulated Jacob would care for his daughters, and marry no one else, Ge 31.50 and that neither would invade or attack the other. Ge 31.52 They put up memorial stones, offered a sacrifice, ate together, and that was that.

Laban called the stones יְגַר שַׂהֲדוּתָא/yegár šahadúta, Aramaic for “witness pile [of rocks],” and by Jacob גַּלְעֵד/galéd, Hebrew for the very same thing—“witness pile.” The word מִצְפָּה/michpá (KJV “Mizpah”), “watchtower,” is another thing the place is called, from Laban’s oath, “The LORD watch between me and thee.” Ge 31.49 There’s where we get the name for those broken coins—and no, nobody breaks a coin in half anywhere in the Jacob/Laban story. Not even in Jewish mythology.

There’s the context. Using Mizpah as a name for cemeteries, for jewelry, for oaths or any other promises to stay together, with the LORD watching over us to keep us safe: It has nothing to do with Jacob and Laban’s relationship. That’s about a control-freak father-in-law wanting some form of petty victory when it turned out he wasn’t getting his way that day. And I would hope our romantic relationships aren’t as messed up as Jacob and Laban’s relationship; yikes.

The opposite of love.

When Christians talk about love, naturally we’re gonna bring up the subject of the opposite of love.

But on this subject, we’re not entirely agreed. The scriptures contrast a lot of things with love. Obviously hate.

Ecclesiastes 3.8 KJV

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

 

Amos 5.15 KJV

Hate the evil, and love the good, and establish judgment in the gate: it may be that the LORD God of hosts will be gracious unto the remnant of Joseph.

 

Malachi 1.2-3 KJV

2 I have loved you, saith the LORD. Yet ye say, Wherein hast thou loved us? Was not Esau Jacob’s brother? saith the LORD: yet I loved Jacob, 3 and I hated Esau, and laid his mountains and his heritage waste for the dragons of the wilderness.

 

Matthew 5.43 KJV

Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.

 

Luke 16.13 KJV

No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

Here’s where teachers like me are obligated to point out when middle easterners contrast love with hate, they don’t always literally mean hate. Frequently they just mean “don't love as much as the other person or thing.” When the LORD said he loves Jacob but hates Esau, Ro 9.13 no he doesn’t hate-hate Esau, but favors Jacob more. He chose Jacob, and passed over Esau. The LORD still blessed Esau, made a nation out of him, even had close relationships with Edomites like Job; his “hatred” still looks a whole lot like great and gracious love! But the LORD had much greater expectations on Jacob and the Israelites, and offered ’em particular blessings as a result. Plus Jesus was born an Israelite.

Other Christians take note of this particular verse in 1 John—

1 John 4.18 NKJV

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.

—and conclude, not wrongly, that fear and love kinda oppose one another. And no, this idea isn’t only found in only one verse; Paul kinda hinted at it in a letter to Timothy:

2 Timothy 1.7 KJV

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

Hence Christians take this idea and really pound it into the ground. When other Christians state love and hate are opposite, these know-it-alls love to point out, “Actually no; it’s love versus fear.” And sometimes quote the proof text. And sometimes talk about their personal experiences which prove love and fear are opposite.

Yeah, you probably guessed I have an alternative answer. And if you ever studied logic, you already know what it is. The exact opposite of love, is not-love. The absence of love. It’s when love simply isn’t there. We don’t have it.

The absence of love can look like all sorts of things, including hate and fear. And selfishness, callousness, anger, violence; y’might think up a few more. But it doesn’t have to look like anything. If love simply isn’t there, it won’t really look like anything anyway. Pick any inanimate object, like a pencil on your table: Does it love? Only if you imagine really hard that it has a soul, and thoughts, and feelings; that it loves to draw, and hates getting sharpened. Which is all projection, of course.

Likewise a rock doesn’t love. A chair doesn’t love. Statues don’t; dollar bills don’t. Even “smart” objects don’t: Your phone doesn’t love, your car doesn’t love, your Roomba doesn’t love. Even when you program these things to tell you so, or get ’em to do things that our fellow humans do to demonstrate love, we recognize love’s gotta have an intelligence behind it. Artificial intelligence ain’t there yet.

So when a human lacks love, that person’s not necessarily gonna look hostile, negative, or dangerous. At our most benign, humans are gonna look as inert as a pencil. They won’t love you… and won’t hate you either. Won’t anything. You’re not a factor in their considerations. That’s all.

If you want a one-word synonym for not-love, the best I can think of would be apathy. But apathy implies they know about you, yet don’t love you; more often they don’t know about you, or simply haven’t thought of you. Or it hasn’t crossed their mind to love you: Point this out to them, and they might! Point is, not-love is even more nonmalignant than apathy. No harm’s meant. No offense.

But not-love still creates problems.

Yep, not-love is in the bible.

First time I explained to a youth group how the opposite of love is not-love, one of the kids objected, “But love versus fear is in the bible, and your thing isn’t in the bible.” Ah, but it is. People quote it all the time, too:

1 Corinthians 13.1-3 NKJV

1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. 2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.

When we act without love, even when we supernaturally act without love, we’re irrelevant, we’re useless, we accomplish nothing, and we’re being jerks.

I’ve seen it firsthand aplenty. When people are working in a ministry, but have no love for the people they’re ministering to, they become massive jerks. They exhibit no patience, no kindness; it’s just “Move it along; I’ve got lots of people to serve and you’re holding me up.” It’s not about people; it’s just numbers. It’s not about getting people to appreciate, or get interested in, God’s kingdom; it’s about all the jewels you were told you’d get in your crown at the End. It’s all about racking up good karma for Jesus, not loving your neighbor… and it shows. And it sucks.

To those being “ministered to,” who get herded like cattle instead of helped and loved: They were expecting love. They got brusqueness, impatience, sarcasm, and mockery. Sure felt like hatred.

’Cause when love is absent, everything else, especially all the negative, self-centered, fleshly stuff, is still there. There’s no love to mitigate, nullify, or take the place of those things. People really feel the difference. It’s why Christians are meant to be identified as Christ-followers by, at the very least, our love for one another. Jn 13.35 But we suck at demonstrating that, and people definitely remember Christians who weren’t quite so loving to them.

Doing the opposite of hate and fear doesn’t count.

I’ve heard many a Christian claim they do so love their neighbors… because they certainly don’t hate them. See, if hatred and love are opposites, they figure if they lack hate, by default they gotta have love. And other Christians try the very same thing with fear: They’re not afraid, so it must be love, right?

Back to logic: The opposite of hate is not-hate. The opposite of fear is not-fear. An inanimate object doesn’t hate, doesn’t fear; it’s inert. And while it’s good that we don’t hate and fear others, simply not hating and not fearing makes us just as inert as a boulder on the ground. Once again, we have apathy. Which, I remind you, is just a blank slate… one where our fleshly works are all the more obvious.

Okay, you’re not doing evil! But we still gotta do good. Do something.

And love actually does stuff. Love has patience, behaves kindly; doesn’t act with uncontrolled emotion, point out how great it is, inflate itself, ignore others’ considerations, provoke ill behavior, plot evil, delight in wrongdoing, etcetera. 1Co 13.4-5 The apostles defined love with lots of verbs, describing what it does, and describing what we oughta do. We don’t just love by default when we don’t hate and don’t fear: We gotta do love. Put some effort into it!

Love one another. Love your neighbor. Love your enemies. Love everybody, basically; same as God loves the world. Jn 3.16 It’s a big job, so start small. But get started.

Memorized any good prayers lately?

ROTE PRAYER roʊt pr(eɪ)ər noun. A prayer we’ve memorized.

How’d you learn your phone number?

Assuming you have; lots of us just trust our phones to remember ’em for us. When I first got my phone number, anytime someone asked for it, I had to look it up. Eventually I got what I thought was a good idea: Convert it to letters! If I couldn’t remember 268-3276, I could sure as heck remember ANT-FARM. (Which is not my actual number; I use it as an example.) Problem is, whenever you sign up for the Starbucks app and tell ’em your phone number is ANT-FARM, they object and demand digits, so now you gotta go through the mental process of “Okay, A is 1…” ’cause you forgot no phone numbers start with 1, ’cause in the early days of telephones they saved 1 for long distance numbers. But here I am digressing again.

A blessed few of us have really good memories, and don’t have to resort to silly mental tricks to get phone numbers in our brains. Most of us just go with blunt-force rote memorization: We recite the number over and over and over and OVER till it’s embedded in our memory like a shank in a prison snitch. (Awful simile, but you’ll remember it, won’tcha?)

Okay, so how’d you learn to pray?

Assuming you have; many don’t. As for those Christians who do, many of us resort to rote prayers. We learned ’em when we were kids, or we say them so often in church they just kinda stuck in our minds. We learned them by repeating them till they stuck. And when it comes time to pray, that’s what we pray. Like the Lord’s Prayer: “Our Father who art in heaven…” and so forth. And it’s totally okay to pray such things, ’cause Jesus said so. “When you pray, say this.” Lk 11.2

Lots of us Christians do rote prayer… and lots of us Christians refuse to do rote prayer. ’Cause they got it into their heads rote prayer isn’t authentic prayer. “The only real prayer,” such people insist, “is extemporaneous prayer: Use your own words, speak from your heart, and say it to God. Don’t use somebody else’s words. Those aren’t your words. God wants to hear your words.”

Yes he does. But that’s not why we pray rote prayers.

It’s a submission thing. (Unless you’re not into that.)

The first time I heard somebody rant against rote prayer, she was basically mocking mainline churches. She grew up a mainliner, left ’em to become Fundamentalist, and had become one of those conspiracy-theory Fundies who think every church but hers is devilish. She didn’t wanna legitimize anything they did as worship. Rote prayer especially.

To her mind, the reason people pray rote prayers isn’t to learn from the prayers of Jesus or other Christians; isn’t to learn to pray, isn’t to conform our will to that of others. Rote prayers are entirely so you can pretend to pray. They’re not really prayer; they’re just some holy-sounding words you can recite but not truly mean. Just say your lines, feign prayer, and it’ll count as prayer, and you’ll be holy for going through the motions. It’s pure hypocrisy.

“That,” she’d explain, “is what mainliners do instead of worship.” It’s all dead religion. And it’s not just mainliners; Catholics and Orthodox and Episcopalians and most of the other churches do it too. They’re all hypocrites and going to hell.

Her teaching didn’t set right with me. ’Cause the Lord’s Prayer. It’s a rote prayer, y’know. One we were taught in Sunday school, ’cause Jesus taught it. One we were taught to recite. And taught, correctly, that it’s so we can learn to pray; and when we pray it we need to mean it. And once we apply that instruction to every rote prayer, we realize the whole point of rote prayer.

When we pray rote prayers properly, what we actually do is conform our will to those prayers. Yeah, they’re someone else’s words. But for it to be an authentic prayer, and not hypocrisy, we gotta mean their words. When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we have to mean Jesus’s words. When we pray one of King David’s prayers out of Psalms, we have to mean his words. When we pray some other Christian’s prayers out of a hymnal or prayer book, we oughta mean their words. When we sing a hymn or worship song in church, we oughta mean those words. It’s all the same practice.

If we can’t say them and mean them, don’t say them! We should at the very least try to mean them; try to wrap our brains around ’em, understand what they mean, and believe what they say. (And ask the Holy Spirit for help when necessary.) Either way, strive for authenticity. Be real with God. Say it and mean it.

If you asked that anti-mainliner what she believed about the Lord’s Prayer, it’s entirely likely she’d say all the same things I just said. All the same things the Sunday school teachers taught. When you recite it, mean it. She wasn’t merely repeating it mindlessly, nor using it to pretend to pray. But good luck convincing her other churches pray it the same way she does. Some people simply can’t see beyond their prejudices.

The power of rote prayers.

When we recite a rote prayer, and mean it (’cause don’t bother to recite it otherwise), they’re extremely powerful.

When Jesus taught us to pray, “Hallowed be thy name” and so forth, Lk 11.2 KJV it’s because that’s his will. That’s God’s will. Jesus told us to pray God would honor his name, make his kingdom come, have his will done, and give us daily bread and forgiveness and grace from testing. And God wants to honor his name, make his kingdom come, have his will done, and give us stuff. We’re conforming and submitting to God’s will. We’re learning to think like God does.

Often we’ll get to the part of “forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors,” Mt 6.12 and to be honest forgiveness is a tricky one. Some of us haven’t forgiven our debtors. We still have grudges. We’re still annoyed at fellow Christians. And neighbors, and especially enemies. We know we need to forgive; Jesus told us to; we just aren’t there yet. Some of us are trying to get there, and some aren’t. When we pray it and don’t mean it, we come under conviction: “Oh yeah; Jesus wants me to forgive.” Ideally it spurs us to work on this.

True, some Christians will just recite the words and work on nothing, ’cause to them the Lord’s Prayer is dead religion. The rest of us will submit to them, because to us the Lord’s Prayer is living religion.

Same with other rote prayers: We conform our own will to the words. It’s powerful stuff. When we’re just talking with God, casually or formally, it might never occur to us in mid-prayer, “I forgot this” or “I should do that” or “God wants me to pray for these things.” He might remind us to—if we’re listening to him, and sometimes we’re not. Just like sometimes we aren’t really listening to the rote prayers. But again: When we do, when we conform to what we’re praying, it’s powerful stuff.

It’s why the very last thing we wanna do is recite rote prayers mindlessly. That’s a mockery of faith. But the heartfelt, mindful, meant rote prayer is an act of surrendering our very thoughts and words—our all—to God.

Yeah, we can pray extemporaneously, for all the stuff we wanna talk to God about. Go ahead and do that too. But Jesus doesn’t want us to forget the stuff in his prayer. His prayer reflects God’s heart. Our off-the-cuff prayers reflect our hearts—which need work. If we pray nothing but the extemporaneous stuff, we shouldn’t expect to see a lot of heart-repair done too quickly. On the other hand if we do pray the Lord’s Prayer…

And same with other rote prayers. Most of the more popular prayers are a bunch of bible quotes. Some are wholly taken from the scriptures. So when we pray them, we’re likewise praying for stuff God already wants us to pray. Doesn’t it make sense to pray for things we already know God wants us to have and think?

“But they’re someone else’s words.” Relax; this isn’t plagiarism. God is fully aware we didn’t compose these prayers. But when they express how we feel, or says the very same things we wanna tell God, it’s totally fine with him if that’s what we pray. And totally fine with our fellow Christians: We have a long history of rote prayers. The Psalms are rote prayers, y’know.

Put a few of ’em into your brain and start praying them.

Jesus dies. And takes our sin with him.

Mark 15.33-39, Matthew 27.45-54, Luke 23.44-48, John 19.28-37.

Around noon on 3 April 33, it got dark, and stayed that way till Jesus died. Obviously God was behind it, but we don’t know how. No solar eclipses in that part of the world, that time of year, so that’s out. Volcanoes have been known to darken the sky. So has weather. Regardless of how he pulled it off, God decided he wanted his Son’s death to happen in the dark.

As he was hanging on the cross, various folks were taunting him, and Matthew describes the head priests, scribes, and elders even taunting him with a bit of Psalm 22:

Matthew 27.43 KWL

He follows God? God has to rescue him now, if he wants him—for he said ‘I’m God’s son.’ ”

 

Psalm 22.8 LXX (KWL)

He hopes for the Lord, who has to release him,

who has to save him because he wants him.

Considering this psalm was so obviously getting fulfilled by Jesus’s death, taunting him with it just showed how far the Judean leaders’ unbelief went. They really didn’t think the psalm applied to Jesus any. It absolutely did.

That is why, round the ninth hour after sunrise (roughly 2:30 PM) Jesus shouted out the first line of that psalm: Elo’í Elo’í, lamá azavtáni/“My God my God, for what reason do you abandon me?” Ps 22.1 I know; it sounds different after the gospels’ authors converted it to Greek characters.

Problem is, by that point the scribes seem to have left, ’cause nobody understood a word he said. Jesus was quoting the original Hebrew, but only scribes knew Hebrew; the Judeans spoke Aramaic, and the Romans spoke Greek. And since Eloí sounded a little like Eliyáhu/“Elijah,” that’s the conclusion they leapt to: He was calling for Elijah. So they added that to their mocking. “Wait; let’s see whether Elijah rescues him.”

In our day Christians have leapt to a different conclusion—a heretic one. They might know Jesus was quoting scripture, but think he quoted it ’cause the Father literally, just then, did abandon him.

Seriously. Here’s the theory. When the lights went out, this was the point when Jesus became the world’s scapegoat: The sins of the entire world were laid on his head, Lv 16.20-22 so that when he died, our sin died too. Which is possible; the scapegoat idea is one of many theories about how atonement works. But the scriptures never indicate when such a transfer was made. The world going dark just feels like a good, dramatic time for such an event to happen.

Here’s when it goes wonky. After the sin-transfer was made to the scapegoat, someone was supposed to turn this goat loose in the wilderness to die. But since Jesus was literally nailed to the spot, he could hardly wander off… so the Father removed himself. Other Christians insist it’s because the Father finds sin so offensive, he couldn’t bear to watch. So he dimmed the lights (as if God can’t see in the dark) and turned his face away from his beloved, but defiled, Son.

Here’s why it’s heresy: God is One. You can’t separate the Son from the Father. They’re one being, not two. The trinity is indivisible.

The rest of us humans are separate beings from the Father—yet Paul stated nothing can separate us from his love. Ro 8.38-39 So if that’s the case, how in creation could anything, even sin, separate God the Son from God the Father?

Nope; not gonna work. There’s no biblical basis for the idea either. Just a lot of Christians who hate sin, who kinda like the idea God hating it so much he’d leave… so don’t you sin, or God’ll quit on you. It’s a great way to scare the dickens out of sinners.

But if it were that easy to drive God away, you’d think the devil’s work would’ve driven God entirely off the planet. Ironically I find a lot of Calvinists, folks fond of insisting nothing’s mightier than God, likewise teaching the idea that the Father turned his face away from his innocent Son—instead of meeting the defeated enemy of sin head-on.

I could rant on, but I’ll step away from the bad theology and quote what the gospels did say happened when the lights went out.

Mark 15.33-39 KWL

33 When the sixth hour since sunrise—noon—came,

darkness came over all the land till the ninth hour.

34 At the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Elahí Elahí, lamaná šavaqtáni?”

which is translated, “My God my God, for what reason have you left me behind?” Ps 22.1

35 Some of the bystanders who heard it said, “Look: He calls Elijah.”

36 One of the runners, filling a sponge of vinegar, putting it on a reed, gave Jesus a drink,

saying, “Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him.”

37 Jesus, giving out a loud cry, expired.

38 The temple veil split in two, from top down.

39 The centurion standing across from Jesus, seeing how he expired,

said, “Truly this person is God’s son.”

 

Matthew 27.45-54 KWL

45 From the sixth hour since sunrise—noon—

darkness came over all the land until the ninth hour.

46 Around the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Elí Elí, lamáh azavettáni?”

That is, “My God my God, why did you leave me behind?” Ps 22.1

47 Some of the bystanders who heard it said this: “This man calls Elijah.”

48 One runner quickly left them: Taking a sponge full of vinegar, putting it on a reed, he gave Jesus a drink.

49 The others said, “Let’s see if Elijah comes, and will save him.”

50 Jesus, again calling out in a loud cry, gave up his spirit.

51 Look, the temple veil split from top down in two. The earth shook. The rocks split.

52 Tombs opened, and many bodies of “sleeping” saints were raised.

53 Coming out of the tombs after Jesus’s rising, they went into the holy city.

They were seen by many.

54 The centurion and those guarding Jesus with him, seeing the earthquake and what happened,

greatly feared, saying, “Truly this person is God’s son.”

 

Luke 23.44-48 KWL

44 Now it was about the sixth hour after sunrise, and it became dark over the whole land till the ninth hour.

45 The sun failed to appear. The temple veil split in the middle.

46 Jesus, calling in a loud voice, said, “Father, I set my spirit into your hands.”

Saying this, he expired.

47 The centurion, seeing what happened, glorified God, saying, “This person is indeed righteous.”

48 All the assembled crowd, at this sight, seeing what happened, went back beating their chests.

 

John 19.28-37 KWL

28 After this Jesus, knowing everything was now finished,

said to fulfill the scripture, “I thirst.”

29 A full jar of vinegar was sitting there.

So a sponge full of vinegar, with hyssop put on it, was brought to Jesus’s mouth.

30 When he tasted the vinegar, Jesus said, “It’s finished.”

He bent his head and handed over his spirit.

31 So the Judeans, since it’s Preparation Friday, lest bodies stay on the cross on Sabbath

(for this Sabbath was a great day), asked Pilate

so their legs might be broken, and they taken away.

32 So the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first man, and the other crucified with him.

33 Coming over to Jesus, they saw he’d died already. They didn’t break his legs.

34 Instead one soldier stabbed Jesus’s side with his spear.

Blood and water quickly came out.

35 The one who witnessed it testifies: It’s a true testimony.

This man knows he tells the truth, so you can also believe.

36 For this happened so the scripture might be fulfilled: “They won’t break his bones.”

37 Again, another scripture says, “They’ll see to whom they stabbed.”

I dealt with the vinegar elsewhere.

Aftershocks from his death.

Depending on the gospel, various things happen as a product of Jesus’s death.

	MARK	MATTHEW	LUKE	JOHN
Temple veil bisected.	Mk 15.38	Mt 27.51	Lk 23.45
Earthquake, rocks split.		Mt 27.51
Dead coming out of their graves.		Mt 27.52-53
Centurion impressed.	Mk 15.39	Mt 27.54	Lk 23.47
Soldiers didn’t break his legs, but speared him.				Jn 19.31-37

The temple veil separated the Holy Place from the Holiest Place, the back room of the temple where the Ark of the Covenant would be kept if it were still around. Christians like to point out it was a mighty thick curtain, and therefore impossible for some random person to rip. True. But it was centuries old, and a strong earthquake might snap its curtain-rod and tear it top-to-bottom, just as the gospels describe. Regardless of how God did it, its point—all barriers between God and us have been removed through Jesus’s death—is entirely valid.

There are a few apocryphal New Testament gospels which claim after Jesus died, a few of the zombies revived saints testified to the Judean senate that they’d seen Jesus break into hell, step on the devil’s neck, and release a bunch of Old Testament saints. Entertaining stories, but way too many historical and scriptural inaccuracies for them to be anything but Christian fanfiction.

Apparently a centurion (if not his entire century) was supervising the crosses, and his response to how Jesus died was either “He sure seemed a good guy,” or “Holy crap, it’s the son of God!” We have no idea what this centurion’s religion was, and if he was your typical Greco-Roman pagan, he believed the gods had lots of sons. (The Roman senate had even declared Caesar Augustus one of them.) So his “son of God” comment might’ve meant the very same thing Luke describes him saying: Jesus seemed a good guy. Then again, who knows?—all sorts of unexpected people turn out to be listening to the Holy Spirit.

In John the aftermath is a lot less miraculous. The Pharisees couldn’t abide crucifixion victims striving to breathe on Sabbath; it counts as work. So they petitioned the Romans to “humanely” dispatch them, with enough time so they could stick ’em in a tomb, then go get baptized, before Sabbath began at nightfall. (On 3 April, that’d be 6PM.) Hence the Romans “humanely” broke their shins, making it impossible for them to hoist themselves up to breathe. Suffocation happened in minutes.

Since Jesus was already dead, a soldier poked him with a spear, and out came blood and water. I’ve heard Christians claim this proves Jesus died, not of suffocation, but a ruptured—make that “broken”—heart. It comes from Dr. William Stroud’s 1847 book, A Treatise on the Physical Cause of the Death of Christ. The idea of a broken heart sure sounds impressive, but more recent physicians prefer the idea of cardiovascular collapse: That’d most likely produce the clear pericardial fluid (“water”) the spear brought forth.

Though not as miraculous, it did fulfill two verses. One about not breaking the bones of a Passover lamb Ex 12.46, Nu 9.12 —that, or about the LORD protecting the bones of the righteous. Ps 34.20 That, and something the LORD said through Zechariah where they’ll “look at me”—speaking of himself—“whom they pierced; and mourn for him like one mourns for an only son.” Zc 12.10 Odd phrasing, but sure fits Jesus’s circumstances.

And, in the next station, Joseph and Nicodemus took Jesus off his cross and put him in Joseph’s sepulcher—expecting, a year later, to go back in, gather his bones, and stick ’em in a casket. Not expecting, two days later, for Jesus to come out on his own. But to be fair, nobody else expected that either.

The crowd shouts for Barabbas.

Mark 15.6-11, Matthew 27.15-21, Luke 23.17-25, John 18.39-40.

We actually have nothing in the Roman records about this custom the Roman governors had of releasing a prisoner every Passover. Doesn’t mean they didn’t do it; just means they kept it off the books. Which is understandable. Fleshly people tend to think of mercy and forgiveness as weakness, not strength; of compassion and generosity as something that other people will take advantage of, not benevolence. “If you give a mouse a cookie” and all that.

Anyway we have four historical records which indicate the Romans totally did free a prisoner every Passover: The gospels. Apparently Pontius Pilate had on hand an guy named Jesus bar Avvá, who’d been arrested during “the riot.” We don’t know which riot, and Christians like to speculate it was one of the more famous ones, but it had to have been fairly recent: Romans didn’t keep people in prison for long. They either held them for trial, flogged and released them, or crucified them.

Pontius wanted to free Jesus. But, probably ’cause Jesus is totally guilty of calling himself Messiah, Pontius didn’t wanna free him on his own authority. It might get back to Caesar Tiberius that he freed a self-proclaimed king. So he wanted an excuse, or to pass the buck to Herod. Likely that’s why he went with the whole free-a-convict-for-Passover thing: “Hey, why not Jesus?”

Well because they didn’t want Jesus; or at least that was the sentiment of the crowd the head priests brought in. Pontius gave them the option of Jesus the Nazarene, or Jesus bar Avvá. They went with bar-Avvá.

Mark 15.6-11 KWL

6 During the feast Pilatus would release one prisoner to them; whomever they asked.

7 There was one called bar-Avvá among the insurrectionists, imprisoned during the riot for committing murder.

8 Rising up, the crowd began to ask, as usual, for Pilatus to do for them.

9 In reply Pilatus told them, “You want me to free for you ‘the Judean king’?”

10 —knowing the head priests turned Jesus in out of envy.

11 The head priests incited the crowd to instead ask that bar-Avvá might be released to them.

 

Matthew 27.15-21 KWL

15 During the feast the prefect was accustomed to release one prisoner to them; whomever they wanted.

16 He then had a famous prisoner, called Jesus bar Avvá.

17 So Pilatus told the people who’d gathered for him, “Whom do you want me to release to you?—Jesus bar Avvá, or Jesus called Messiah?”

18 —knowing the head priests turned Jesus in out of envy.

19 (As he was sitting on the dais, his wife sent him a message:

“Keep away from that righteous man, for I saw many things in a dream about him.”)

20 The head priests and elders convinced the crowd to ask for bar-Avvá, and for Jesus’s destruction.

21 In reply the prefect told them, “Whom of the two do you want me to release to you?” They said, “Bar-Avvá.”

 

Luke 23.17-25 KWL

17 [He had to release one prisoner to them during the feast.]

18 The Judeans shouted out together, “Take this man away and release bar-Avvá to us!”

19 Bar-Avvá was thrown into prison because of a certain riot in the city, and murder.

20 Pilatus addressed them again, wanting to release Jesus,

21 and the crowd shouted back, saying, “Crucify! Crucify him!”

22 Pilatus told them thrice, “Why? Did this man do evil?

Nothing worth death was done by him. So I will punish and release him.”

23 The crowd insisted with loud voices, calling for Jesus to be crucified, and their voices prevailed.

24 Pilatus sentenced Jesus to have done as the crowd requested.

25 He released the one they requested, who was thrown into prison for riot and murder,

and Jesus was surrendered to the people’s will.

 

John 18.39-40 KWL

39 It’s your custom that one prisoner might be released to you on Passover,

so do you want me to release to you ‘the Judean king’?”

40 So they shouted again, saying, “Not him, but bar-Avvá!” (Bar-Avvá was a looter.)

Who’s bar-Avvá?

The gospels don’t give us much on who bar-Avvá is, mainly because they don’t really care.

The word in our bibles is Βαραββᾶς/Varavvás (KJV “Barabbas”), which is a transliteration of the Aramaic בַּר אַבה/bar Avvá, “son of Avvá.” Yes, Avvá was a proper Hebrew name back then, but loads of Christians like to make much of the fact the word also means “father,” and therefore “bar-Avvá” literally means “son of a father.” And hey, isn’t Jesus’s dad our heavenly Father? What an interesting contrast! But nah, it’s not all that interesting.

In some copies of Matthew, bar-Avvá’s given name is Jesus. Mt 16.18 NIV True, “Jesus” isn’t in the earliest copies of Matthew, and the earliest reference is the Codex Vaticanus, written in the early 300s. The reason it was probably dropped from those early copies is because the New Testament copyists tried to avoid referring to anybody other than Christ Jesus as “Jesus.” But tradition preserved bar-Avvá’s given name—and again there’s that interesting contrast between the two Jesuses. One’s a murderer; the other offers to save everyone from death. Jn 3.16

Bar-Avvá was arrested during a recent riot, for murder Mk 15.7 and looting. Jn 18.40 He was imprisoned among the insurrectionists, and that’s led various people to jump to the conclusion he was an insurrectionist; possibly one of the nativists who called themselves “Canaanites,” Mk 3.18, Mt 10.4 KJV or in Greek ζηλωτής/zilotís, “Zealots,” Lk 6.15, Ac 1.13 who wanted the Romans gone, and were willing to kill to get it. Bar-Avvá did commit murder after all; maybe he murdered a Roman.

But likely not. Pontius wouldn’t have suggested his name, or even considered him a possibility, if bar-Avvá murdered a Roman. He’d have been crucified the same day. More likely bar-Avvá took advantage of a riot and confusion to murder someone, and probably someone prominent, which is why he was now famous. Or maybe he was already prominent—a celebrity’s kid, or otherwise had prominent connections, which might explain why the Romans hadn’t yet crucified him.

Of course the Jesus movies like to depict him as a hardened criminal, a highwayman and bandit, a tough guy who was thrilled the crowd was shouting for him instead of that pacifist Nazarene sissy. Or maybe he took a look at Jesus and was magically struck with conviction—“why, this man is clearly innocent, even though I’ve never met him before and someone beat the tar out of him and all my cultural biases should be telling me the universe is punishing him”—or however the screenwriters like to play with the character. Me, I’m more interested in historical accuracy. Human nature dictates bar-Avvá really didn’t wanna get crucified, and didn’t care who took his place so long that he got to live. Beyond this story, we never hear of him again.

Jesus’s suffering.

Now of course Jesus didn’t wanna get crucified either. But he had accepted his coming death as an inevitability. The chance he might be pardoned, only existed in Pontius’s mind—and in the worries of the senators who wanted Jesus dead. Didn’t exist in Jesus’s. So really all this free-a-convict-for-Passover thingy did was delay the inevitable.

But you know Satan would’ve used it as a temptation: “Look, there’s a chance you might get freed! You won’t have to go through crucifixion! You’ll only get off with a flogging; shouldn’t that be enough?” Assuming the devil understood Jesus was trying to achieve atonement though his death; I don’t know what it knew or didn’t know, but it’s a good bet the devil wanted to frustrate anything Jesus was up to, or at least prolong the misery. If Jesus was determined to die, may as well dangle the possibility he might not.

And no, it’s not fun to hear a crowd reject you in favor of a really undeserving, truly bad guy. No matter the situation.

The crowd shouts for crucifixion.

Mark 15.8-14, Matthew 27.20-23, Luke 23.18-25, John 18.38-40.

When Jesus stood trial before Pontius Pilate, the Roman prefect quickly realized Jesus was no insurrectionist. Jesus’s claim of being Judea’s king was no political threat to the Roman senate and emperor. Case dismissed.

Except it wasn’t, because the Judean senators had somehow got a crowd together which was calling for Jesus’s death. And the easiest way to get Romans in a murdery mood is to disturb their peace. That’s the one thing Romans valued most: Social stability. Not actual peace, like Jesus gives us; just the appearance of peace, where nobody grumbles too loud, would do for them. And if they didn’t get it, they’d crucify everybody till they did.

The head priests knew this, so of course they got a crowd together, and made sure they were good and noisy.

Mark 15.8-14 KWL

8 Rising up, the crowd began to ask, as usual, for Pilatus to do for them.

9 In reply Pilatus told them, “You want me to free for you ‘the Judean king’?”

10 —knowing the head priests turned Jesus in out of spite.

11 The head priests incited the crowd to instead ask that bar-Avvá might be released to them.

12 In reply Pilatus again told them, “So what ought I do with the one called ‘the Judean king’?

13 The crowd shouted again, “Crucify him.”

14 Pilatus told them, “Why? Did he do evil?” But they shouted “Crucify him” all the more.

 

Matthew 27.20-23 KWL

20 The head priests and elders convinced the crowd to ask for bar-Avvá, and for Jesus’s destruction.

21 In reply the prefect told them, “Whom of the two do you want me to release to you?” They said, “Bar-Avvá.”

22 Pilatus told them, “So what will I do with Jesus called Messiah?” All said, “Crucify.”

23 Pilatus said, “Why? Did he do evil?” But they shouted “Crucify!” all the more.

 

Luke 23.18-25 KWL

18 The Judeans shouted out together, “Take this man away and release bar-Avvá to us!”

19 Bar-Avvá was thrown into prison because of a certain riot in the city, and murder.

20 Pilatus addressed them again, wanting to release Jesus,

21 and the crowd shouted back, saying, “Crucify! Crucify him!”

22 Pilatus told them thrice, “Why? Did this man do evil?

Nothing worth death was done by him. So I will punish and release him.”

23 The crowd insisted with loud voices, calling for Jesus to be crucified, and their voices prevailed.

24 Pilatus sentenced Jesus to have done as the crowd requested.

25 He released the one they requested, who was thrown into prison for riot and murder,

and Jesus was surrendered to the people’s will.

 

John 18.38-40 KWL

38 Pilatus told Jesus, “What’s ‘truth’?”

This said, he went out again to the Judeans and told them, “I find nothing in him of cause.

39 It’s your custom that one prisoner might be released to you on Passover,

so do you want me to release to you ‘the Judean king’?”

40 So they shouted again, saying, “Not him, but bar-Avvá!” (Bar-Avvá was a looter.)

41 So then Pilatus took Jesus and flogged him.

More about bar-Avvá another time.

The crowd’s constitution.

Preachers are mighty fond of claiming the crowd which asked for bar-Avvá to be freed, and for Jesus to be crucified, was the very same crowd which hailed Jesus on Palm Sunday. We have no evidence of that whatsoever, but these preachers love the idea of the crowd turning on Jesus; praising him one day, rejecting him the next, much like the students who rejected him after he told them to eat him. Denouncing hypocrites is fun, so this old claim manages to worm its way into every Holy Week message. But it’s likely rubbish.

Ancient Jerusalem was a big city. Ordinarily 40,000 people lived there, which means you could put together a dozen massive Jesus-denying crowds with entirely different people in ’em, same as such a population nowadays can easily host a dozen Jesus-affirming churches. But y’might remember Passover was going on, which every adult male Israelite was commanded to attend. Ex 23.17 During the Jewish War, which started during one of the mandatory festivals, Josephus stated the city physically held more than 125,000 people. Granted some people might’ve been in both crowds, but certainly not all. And if the head priests gathered this crowd, these definitely wouldn’t be Jesus fans.

Also bear in mind the Romans’ fort, Antonia, couldn’t hold a crowd of thousands. The temple, which Antonia overlooked, could; but no matter how much the head priests wanted Jesus dead, it’s extremely unlikely they’d have used the temple courts to host a crowd shouting “Crucify him!” So the size of this crowd wasn’t as vast as the Jesus movies make it look; we’re only talking 300 people at the very most. Even without shouting they’d make a lot of noise, but they only needed to be just noisy enough to sway Pontius. Which they did.

The other consideration is this was Friday, 3 April 33, the day before Passover and the day before Sabbath, and therefore a day you were super busy getting ready. You had to get your lamb killed and skinned and roasted; you had to go to temple for your ritual sacrifices (and get in line, ’cause there were tons of other Israelite families with Passover sacrifices, but only so many priests, and just the one altar); and if you had to go to temple it meant you had to get ritually clean the day before, and stay ritually clean till you got to temple, and couldn’t risk becoming ritually unclean by gathering in a crowded Roman fortress where there’d be a bunch of uncircumcised pork-eating soldiers who touched dead things and blood and didn’t wash their hands. So the crowd had to consist of people who finished their temple rituals first thing in the morning… and who wouldn’t mind getting ritually unclean for a little while, and do the head priests a favor.

Likewise people who didn’t have a problem getting one of their fellow Israelites crucified by the Romans. Who didn’t really have a problem with the Roman occupation period; who might’ve even profited off it. Who didn’t just reject the idea of Jesus as Messiah, but may not have even believed any Messiah was coming, like Sadducees. And since the head priests were Sadducees themselves, maybe they handpicked a crowd of fellow Sadducees. The gospels don’t say… but if the entire crowd would Sadducee, they absolutely wouldn’t have among the crowd cheering Jesus at Palm Sunday, ’cause shouting Hosanna to an incoming Messiah is way more of a Pharisee thing.

Jesus represents a total overhaul of the status quo. (Including our own.) If the crowd had more to lose by such changes, they’d shout all the more for Jesus’s destruction. And so it appears they did.

Jesus’s suffering.

In these stations of the cross articles we’re looking particularly at how Jesus suffered. And of course he suffered in hearing the crowds call for his death. He didn’t wanna die. Definitely didn’t wanna be crucified. But this was the sort of death he knew was coming; it was part of the Father’s plan, and the Father’s plan is his plan too.

And he came to save this crowd too. He wants everybody to be saved, 1Ti 2.4 even the ones who wanted him dead, even the people today who want him and Christianity gone, and would crucify him again if they could get their hands on him. It’s a pity they resisted his grace; it’s a pity people still resist it. It just goes to demonstrate how messed up humanity is. Obviously we need a savior—who isn’t gonna let us, killing him, stop him from saving us regardless.