“You’re leading me to stumble.”

STUMBLE 'stəm.bəl verb. Trip, almost fall, or lose one’s balance.

2. Make a mistake, or repeated mistakes [in speaking].

3. [“stumble upon”] Discover or encounter by chance.

4. [noun] An act of stumbling.

5. [In bible] Get offended.

6. [Among Christians] Sin, or trespass.

[Stumbler 'stəm.b(ə.)lər noun]

Romans 14.21 KJV

It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor any thing whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak.

“Stumbleth” in this verse translates προσκόπτει/proskóptei, “one strikes against [an object],” a word ancient Greeks used to describe a boat smacking the waves, or a foot tripping over a rock, or the rattling one makes while breathing. Aristotle of Athens used it to describe friction. “Stumble” and “trip” are good ways to translate it.

But the Greeks also used proskópto—namely the friction idea—as a metaphor to describe someone who’s taken offense. It’s why Paul immediately wrote after it, ἢ σκανδαλίζεται/i skandalídzete, “or is scandalized,” or as the KJV put it, “or is offended.” Means the same thing.

And actually means the same thing in ancient Hebrew:

Malachi 2.8 KJV

But ye are departed out of the way; ye have caused many to stumble at the law; ye have corrupted the covenant of Levi, saith the LORD of hosts.

The ancient Hebrews used that word—found here in the verb-form הִכְשַׁלְתֶּ֥ם/hikšeltém, “y’all make [one] stagger,”—to likewise describe people who took offense. In this particular case, God’s critiquing his priests for the sloppy and inconsistent way they follow him, which is actually causing other people to take offense at his Law.

So when you come across stumbling and stumbling-blocks in the bible, unless the passage is about literal roadblocks and booby traps, it typically has to do with offense. Someone doesn’t wanna follow God because they’re bothered by what he wants ’em to do… or they just don’t care to do it, are looking for excuses not to, and have found something which offends them. I know various pagans and ex-Christians who love to use the excuse, “But God could’ve stopped bad stuff from happening and didn’t,” or “Lookit all the messed-up stuff God had the Hebrews do in Joshua and Judges,” and that’s become their handy excuse for not following Jesus.

Funny thing is, in my experience Christians tend to use “stumble,” not to describe how they personally take offense, but to describe sin. When they talk about stumbling, they talk about sinning. When they talk about making other people stumble, they don’t mean offending them; they mean making ’em sin.

Worse, they’re reading this definition back into the bible, and they’re misinterpreting all the verses which refer to stumbling. So, heads up: Don’t you do that.

“What If I Stumble?”

There’s a DC Talk song from their 1995 Jesus Freak album titled “What If I Stumble?” which manages to mix up both definitions of “stumble”—the popular Christian interpretation and the biblical one. The chorus goes like so:

What if I stumble

What if I fall

What if I lose my step

And I make fools of us all

Will the love continue

When my walk becomes a crawl

What if I stumble

And what if I fall

The song’s about being worried “my trespasses / Will leave a deadly scar,” as the second verse puts it. That one’s misdeeds might lead pagans away from Jesus. That’s a common concern among Evangelicals, although if you talk to your average atheist they’ll say it’s really not. Christian hypocrisy is easy and fun to mock, but they don’t believe because they find the bible and Christianity unbelievable. But I digress.

Y’notice DC Talk uses “stumble” not to mean “take offense,” like the bible uses it. They don’t mean “What if I get offended,” but “What if I trespass.” What if I make a mistake, commit an error, say the wrong thing, do something awful, embarrass my fellow Christians? What if I screw up?

And yeah, we shouldn’t wanna screw up! But again: Using “stumble” in a way inconsistent with bible. Not inconsistent with the way other Christians do… but y’know, shouldn’t our Christianese really be consistent with bible?

I use DC Talk’s song as an example; they certainly weren’t the first to use “stumble” incorrectly. I’ve heard it used inconsistently all my life. They’re just doing the same thing as most of my fellow Evangelicals. Ask any of your fellow Christians what “What if I stumble?” means and they’re also gonna say “What if I sin?” If they’re any kind of biblical scholar, they might know the proper biblical definition. But then again, that might not be the first definition which pops into their minds either.

Christians who object to our behavior.

The one time Christians actually use the word correctly, weirdly enough, is when they talk about things which might cause them to stumble.

Years ago, years before the DC Talk song came out, a Fundamentalist acquaintance objected to something I did or said. I don’t remember what it was; certainly I wasn’t offended by it, nor did I think it was any kind of sin. Maybe I said “ass.” Back in high school I took advantage of the fact “ass” is in the King James Version, Ge 22.3, 44.13, 49.14, etc. and said it more than I ought’ve. And whenever people objected, show ’em what I call “ass proof texts.” Like this one.

Genesis 22.3 KJV

And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass…

It’s evidence that the bible uses this word profusely. So why can’t I?

Anyway dude took offense, and told, “You’re leading me to stumble.”

What he meant was, “You’re tempting me to do as you’re doing.” But then again, y’notice an awful lot of the Christians who object, “You’re leading me to stumble” aren’t really all that tempted to do as we’re doing. If they caught me smoking cigars, listening to heavy metal, or leaving flaming bags of poo on doorsteps, they aren’t always gonna think, “Oh I wanna do that.” I mean, sometimes they might, but usually not.

Nah; what they’re actually doing when they tell me, “You’re leading me to stumble,” is hypocrisy. They’re trying to get me to stop by warning me, “Your bad behavior might provoke more bad behavior. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?” And really that’s a mighty ineffective warning: Most of the people who indulge in casual bad behavior really won’t mind when others join ’em! Hey, wanna have some more fun with the word “ass” with me?

2 Peter 2.16 KJV

But was rebuked for his iniquity: the dumb ass speaking with man’s voice forbad the madness of the prophet.

See, “dumb ass” is in the bible too!

And yeah, more than likely some Fundamentalist is gonna find this article, ignore everything I wrote about what stumbling means, and get all offended by my ass proof texts. His knee-jerk reaction is gonna be to object, “You’re leading people to stumble.” But more accurately I’m making him stumble—in the proper biblical sense. I’ve offended him. He doesn’t approve of mixing up the popular definition of “ass” with the KJV use of “ass,” and wishes I wouldn’t play with his favorite bible translation like that, and read vulgar ideas into the sacred text. I’ve made him stumble.

I haven’t made him sin though. That is, till he writes me a rude email and says some things he shouldn’t. But his carnal lack of emotional self-control and his poor choice of words: That’s on him. Not me. He’s supposed to follow the Holy Spirit, become inoculated from offense, and therefore not stumble over every little thing he comes across. To use a more recent metaphor, he’s not meant to be such a snowflake.

Like our Lord Jesus once put it:

John 11.9-10 KJV

9 Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours in the day? If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world. 10 But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth, because there is no light in him.

That passage make more sense to you, now that you know what Jesus actually means by “stumbleth”? If you’re following the light of the world, you shouldn’t offend as quickly and easily as your average snowflake. God’s granted you the emotional maturity to handle such things like an adult. Whereas if you’re not in the light, of course every little thing is gonna enrage you.

So while those people who are quick to say, “You’re making me stumble” mean our behavior might lead them astray, what they’re actually saying—what they’re unknowingly saying—is the truth. They’re offended.

And don’t be a dick; try not to offend ’em unnecessarily! But don’t stress out about it. I’ve unintentionally offended lots of people, and when I’ve actually tried to offend people I wasn’t that effective. Best to go through life trying to love everyone as best we can, be quick to apologize, and don’t take offense at snowflakes!

And be quick to laugh at ass proof texts. One more before I go!

Exodus 20.17 KJV

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s.

Yep, “ass” is in the 10 Commandments—so don’t covet your neighbor’s ass! Oh, and “stumble” means “get offended”—gotta end with the proper takeaway. Bye.

Fundamentalists and legalism.

Fundamentalists have a reputation for being legalistic—and that reputation is entirely deserved. They’re totally legalistic. They have to be; it comes with the fundamentalism. If you’re gonna insist, as Fundies do, that there are certain doctrines all Christians have to believe, and if they don’t they’re not Christian—and if you’re gonna insist, as most Fundies do, you need to avoid and distrust people who aren’t truly Christian—then legalism is inevitable.

Now yes, there are such creatures as gracious Fundamentalists! I know many. I grew up with many. They believe in Fundamentalism, and believe it’s important; but they also believe in the Spirit’s fruit, which includes kindness and generosity and compassion and patience. And they strive to be those things, and do a really good job. Better than me!

But because they’re Fundamentalist, their strict demands for doctrinal purity are gonna butt heads with their good fruit. Again, inevitable. Because they follow the Spirit, they have to love their neighbors. But because they’re Fundamentalists, they have to tell these same neighbors, “Jesus expects you to believe what I do, and until you do, you’re not Christian; you’re going to hell.”

Because they’re Christian, and follow the scriptures, they’ll certainly tell people we’re saved by God’s grace. And totally believe it! But because they’re Fundamentalist, this grace only comes through faith—and by “faith” they don’t mean trusting in Jesus to save us regardless of our wayward beliefs. (In other words, actual saving faith.) By “faith” they mean the Christian faith. Specifically the Fundamentalist faith. When the scriptures say “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved,” Ac 16.31 they mentally insert “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as described, and only described, in our doctrine; you cannot know him any other way, and thou shalt be saved.” You cannot pray, “I believe; help thou mine unbelief”; Mk 9.24 you have to sort out your unbeliefs first.

Don’t get me wrong: Doctrine is important. Theology and orthodoxy are important. We’re not gonna grow properly as Christians when we have a distorted understanding of who Jesus is, and what he teaches us about his Father. That’s why we spend the rest of our lives following him, getting to know him better, and unlearning all the junk we’ve picked up about him from pagans, Christianists, and intellectually lazy Christians who simply regurgitate what we’ve been told instead of doing our homework. (Including intellectually lazy Fundies.) But what makes us Christian? Following Jesus. Do we need to know everything about him first? Nah; his first students surely didn’t. But they knew he has the words of eternal life, Jn 6.68 and followed him anyway. As must we.

Legalism puts the cart before the horse: It insists we get sorted out before we can come to Jesus. And obviously it has to be the other way round! Come to Jesus, and he’ll sort us out.

So yeah, Fundies do legalism. Because while they’ll claim, “Come to Jesus and he’ll sort you out,” they tend to behave as though, if you’re not yet sorted out, you’re holding out; you’ve not yet come to Jesus; you’re not yet Christian. And if they’re the paranoid sort of Fundamentalist, they’ll suspect you have a devil in you, and that’s why you’re not sorted out yet. They might have to cast you out! Not the devil—you.

…Don’t we all have 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 fundamental beliefs?

FUNDAMENTALIST fən.də'mɛn.(t)əl.ɪst adjective. Adheres to certain beliefs as necessary and foundational.

2. Theologically (and politically) conservative in their religion.

3. [capitalized] Related to the 20th-century movement which considers certain Christian beliefs mandatory.

[Fundamentalism fən.də'mɛn.(t)əl.ɪz.əm noun, Fundie 'fən.di adjective.]

I grew up Fundamentalist, and refer to Fundies a bunch. But I need to explain what I mean by the term. Too many people use it too, but use it wrong.

For most folks fundamentalist is a synonym for “super conservative.” If you’re a fundamentalist of any stripe—fundamentalist Christian, fundamentalist Muslim, fundamentalist Jew, fundamentalist Mormon, fundamentalist Republican—people assume you’re extremely conservative. Or at least more conservative than they are: “I may be conservative, but you’re fundamentalist.” It picked up this definition for good reason: Fundies typically are super conservative. And a number of ’em pride themselves on this. It often feels like they’re trying to play a game of conservative chicken: “You might claim to be prolife, but I’m willing to dynamite clinics. How prolife is that?” Um, not in the slightest. But let’s not go there today. (I wrote on the topic elsewhere.)

But Fundamentalist isn’t synonymous with conservative. Fr’instance my church has its Fundamentalists… who aren’t anywhere near as conservative as other Fundamentalists might demand they be. My church’s Fundies recognize women can be in church leadership. Recognize Jesus came to save everybody, not just Christians. Recognize miracles still happen… whereas other Fundamentalists are absolutely insistent they don’t; they stopped. Yet they’re still Fundamentalist.

’Cause properly any fundamentalist is someone who believes there are fundamentals—meaning non-negotiable doctrines which people have to adhere to. Christians in particular: At the very least, we gotta believe in God the Father, in Christ Jesus, in the Holy Spirit, and all the Nicene Creed stuff which spells out the basic stuff. We can’t do as those pagans who call themselves Christian yet don’t even believe in Christ. Or they’ve mangled his teachings so bad, they’ve nullified all of them. Or instead of Jesus, they believe in some form of Historical Jesus which ironically is total fiction. Or they like Jesus a whole lot, but in practice they follow Deepak Chopra or Ayn Rand more. Or assume they’re Christian because they were baptized Christian, but they’ve never followed Jesus. There are an awful lot of fake Christians out there, trying to blend in.

Fundamentalism is meant to be the antidote to all the fakery. Capital-F Fundamentalists believe plenty of churches and denominations don’t follow Jesus at all; don’t recognize him as Lord and God, don’t believe God’s a trinity, don’t trust bible, don’t expect Jesus to save ’em (they gotta earn it with good karma), don’t even try to be good and moral people. In contrast they, the Fundamentalists, have fundamental truths. And require ’em of all their members.

Which “fundamental truths?” Well, I pointed to the Nicene Creed—and nearly every Fundie believes everything we find in that creed. Thing is, nearly every Fundamentalist is anti-Catholic, wrongly believes the creed is “a Catholic thing,” and is automatically prejudiced against it. While agreeing with it. Go figure. But instead of the creed, they have their own creeds—their church’s faith statements, which contain all the things they consider vital to Christianity. All of ’em go further than the creed—obviously, because the creed never mentions bible, and Fundies definitely trust bible. (Sometimes too much, but I already wrote about that.) Some of ’em go way further than the creed, and some of ’em go overboard and are straight-up legalist.

Fundamentalists worry Christianity’s ground-floor ideas have been compromised in way too many churches, among too many Christians. They want no part of any Christianity which won’t defend ’em. Real Christians embrace the fundamentals. So it’s not wrong to say fundamentalism of any sort is conservative; the very definition of conservatism is to point backwards to the tried-and-true as our objective standards.

But here’s the catch; here’s why Christians and pagans alike are confused as to what a Fundamentalist is: Not every conservative is pointing back to the same past. Me, I point back to the first-century apostolic church of Christ Jesus, and to the creeds of ancient Christianity. Sometimes to the beginnings of my own denomination.

Whereas other Christians point back to “the way we’ve always done things.” Which really means the way they remember they’ve always done things; some of these traditions only go back 20 or 40 years. Or two generations. Or a century, like my denomination. The Pharisee “tradition of the elders” only extended back about 50 years before Jesus began to critique it. Some traditions are hardly that ancient.

And way too many conservative American traditions date back to the upper-class customs of the American South during slavery, or during the Jim Crow segregationist era. In other words, they’re not pointing to Christianity at all. Just a particularly heinous form of Christianism… which they remember fondly only because it wasn’t persecuting them.

That is the form of fundamentalism I object to most. Not the folks who wanna keep Christianity orthodox—who wanna make sure we follow Jesus, know our bibles, understand him to the best of our ability, and strive to do the good deeds God laid out for us to do. I’m all for that! What I’m not for, is the false religion of conforming to a social standard which only appears moral, but is really patriarchy, racism, political control, Mammonism, and hypocrisy.

Jesus’s resurrection: If he wasn’t raised, we’re boned.

Of Christianity’s two biggest holidays, Christmas is the easier one for pagans to swallow. ’Cause Jesus the Nazarene was born. That, they won’t debate. There are a few cranks who think Jesus’s life is entirely mythological, start to finish; but for the most part everyone agrees he was born. May not believe he was miraculously born, but certainly they agree he was born.

Easter’s way harder. ’Cause Jesus the Nazarene rose from the dead. And no, he didn’t just wake up in a tomb after a two-day coma following a brutal flogging and crucifixion. Wasn’t a spectral event either, where his ghost went visiting his loved ones to tell them everything’s all right; he’s on a higher plane now; in time they’ll join him. Nor was it a “spiritual” event, where people had visions or mass hallucinations of him, or missed him so hard they psyched themselves into believing they saw him.

Christians state Jesus is alive. In a body. A human body. An extraordinary body; apparently his new body can do things our current bodies can’t. But alive in a way people recognize as fully alive. Not some walking-dead zombie, nor some phantom. Jesus physically interacted with his students, family, and followers, for nearly a month and a half before physically going to heaven.

That, pagans struggle with. ’Cause they don’t believe in resurrection. Resuscitation, sure; CPR can keep a heart going till it can beat on its own, or doctors can revive frozen people. Returning from the dead happens all the time. But permanently? In a new body? Which he took with him to heaven? They’re not buying it. They’re more likely to believe in the Easter Bunny.

But that’s the deal we Christians proclaim on Easter: Christ is risen indeed.

It’s not the central belief of Christianity; God’s kingdom is. But if Jesus didn’t literally come back from the dead on the morning of 5 April 33, it means there’s no such kingdom, and Jesus is never coming back to set it up. And nobody’s coming back from death. There’s no eternal life; at best an eternal afterlife, which ain’t life. There’s no hope for the lost. The Sadducees were right. Christianity’s a sham. There’s no point in any of us being Christians.

No I’m not being hyperbolic. This is precisely what the apostles taught.

1 Corinthians 15.12-19 KWL

12 If it’s preached Christ is risen from the dead,

how can some of you say resurrection of the dead isn’t true?

13 If resurrection of the dead isn’t true, not even Christ is risen.

14 If Christ isn’t risen, our message is worthless. Your faith is worthless.

15 Turns out we’re bearing false witness about God: We testified about God that he raised Christ!

Whom, if it’s true the dead aren’t raised, he didn’t raise.

16 If the dead aren’t raised, Christ isn’t risen either.

17 If Christ isn’t risen, your faith has no foundation.

You’re still in your sins, 18 and those who “sleep in Christ” are gone.

19 If hope in Christ only exists in this life, we’re the most pathetic of all people.

No resurrection, no kingdom, no Christianity. Period.

Vinegar to drink.

Mark 15.23, 26, Matthew 27.33-34, 48, Luke 23.36, John 19.28-30

Back when David was in deep doo-doo, Ps 69.2 he wrote Psalm 69 to gripe about his enemies. But when he talked about his comforters, Ps 69.20 he commented,

Psalm 69.21 KWL

They gave me bitter food,

and for my thirst, they made me drink vinegar.

It’s a memorable idea, and one which no doubt the authors of the gospels thought of when Jesus was getting crucified. ’Cause Jesus didn’t wanna drink what they provided.

Our culture might be unaware: Back then, you didn’t drink the water. You never knew where it came from, and rarely was it pure. Fastest way to get dysentery or cholera. So the ancients drank wine, either full-strength or watered-down. (Or beer, if your culture made beer.) The alcohol killed any bacteria. Ignore all those teetotalers who claim “wine” back then was actually grape juice: Grape juice was as potentially harmful as water. It needed to be wine.

The gospels aren’t consistent in how they describe the wine Jesus was offered. Mark called it myrrh-wine and Matthew called it wine with χολῆς/holís, “bile.” For Luke and John, it was really old wine, which both of ’em straight-up called ὄξος/óxos, “vinegar.”

Mark 15.22-23 KWL

22 They bring Jesus to Gulgálta Place (i.e. Skull Place).

23 They’re giving Jesus myrrh-wine, which he doesn’t take.

 

Matthew 27.33-34 KWL

33 Coming to the place called Gulgálta, called Skull Place,

34 they give Jesus wine to drink—with bile mixed in,

and on tasting it he didn’t want to drink.

 

Luke 23.36 KWL

They mock him. The soldiers who came were bringing him vinegar…

John states they added hyssop, but the KJV changes John’s account to “[a branch] of hyssop,” Jn 19.29 KJV to sync it up with Mark and Matthew’s account of putting the wine in a sponge, putting the sponge on a reed (or a hyssop stick, I suppose), and offering it to Jesus. But hyssop is also a bitter extract, and may be what Matthew meant by bile. I dunno.

Mark 15.36 KWL

One of the runners, filling a sponge of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, gives Jesus a drink,

saying, “Let me do this;

we might see if Elijah comes to take him.”

 

Matthew 27.48 KWL

One runner quickly leaves them:

Taking a sponge full of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, he gives Jesus a drink.

 

John 19.28-30 KWL

28 After this Jesus, knowing everything was now finished,

says to fulfill the scripture, “I thirst.”

29 A full jar of vinegar is sitting there.

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

30 When he tastes the vinegar, Jesus says, “It’s finished.”

He bends his head and hands over his spirit.

Yeah, the soldiers and their runners offered Jesus vinegar more than once.

Certain commentators claim the myrrh in the wine was meant to be medicinal. Supposedly the Romans, feeling a little bad for their victims, wanted to numb them just a little to the excruciating pain of crucifixion. Man, is that optimistic of the commentators. Ask your local supplier of essential oils: Myrrh is no painkiller. It wasn’t even a folk-remedy painkiller. The ancients used it as perfume—to keep wounds and medicines from smelling bad. From there, moderns leap to the conclusion it was kind of an antiseptic—it kept wounds from getting infected and gangrenous, right? But it didn’t do that at all: It hid the smell of wounds which were getting septic. It made you worse, not better. Despite your favorite websites, myrrh has no proven purpose in medicine.

So what was it doing in the wine? Myrrh is bitter. (So’s hyssop.) It made the wine taste like bile. And when people taste bile, what do they do? They gag: It tastes like vomit. They’ll frequently even vomit.

Yep, it was the Romans’ sick little joke. The victims got thirsty and begged for wine… so you gave ’em myrrh-wine, and watched ’em freak out. Arguably that was why they put the vinegar in a sponge on a reed: It wasn’t because the crosses were impractically tall. It’s because the soldiers didn’t wanna get puked on.

Wasn’t Jesus thirsty?

Christians sometimes think there’s a serious discrepancy in the gospels’ stories of Jesus’s crucifixion. ’Cause in Mark and Matthew, Jesus refused to drink anything. But in John, he declared “I’m thirsty!” and drank the vinegar. Or wine, depending on the translation—and upon whether the translators could imagine Jesus willingly drinking vinegar.

I’ve heard interpreters claim Jesus refused the wine because he didn’t wanna be numbed. He wanted to really suffer all the pain he was going through, with senses entirely intact. (Or as intact as they could be, considering all the blood loss.) He was dying for our sins here, and he wanted sin to suffer on its way down. So no alcohol, no myrrh, no nothing. Bring on the pain!

There’s a bothersome amount of sadomasochism in this interpretation, which says all sorts of creepy things about the preachers. There’s plenty of suffering involved in public rejection, flogging, and crucifixion. Jesus was going down hard. Bad wine and a mild sedative weren’t gonna make things better.

But again, that wasn’t the Romans’ motive at all. They weren’t trying to be light on their victims. They figured every crucified person was an annoyance or danger to Rome, and deserved what they were getting. They’d just beaten Jesus up for fun. They were still having fun at his expense, gambling for his clothes, mocking the title which Pilatus had fastened to the cross. Myrrh-wine wasn’t a mercy. It was more sick fun.

So you can see why Jesus initially wouldn’t touch the stuff. Of course he was thirsty. But not that thirsty.

That is, till the very end. John said he decided to drink the vinegar to fulfill the scriptures. Jn 19.28 Maybe he meant the Psalms passage, where David’s enemies made him drink vinegar. But maybe it’s also this passage:

Mark 14.24-25 KWL

24 Jesus tells them, “This is the blood of my relationship, poured out for many.

25 Amen: I promise you I’ll never drink of the fruit of the vine again—

till that day when I drink it new, in God’s kingdom.”

I admit that’s a stretch though. John never quoted that statement, and you know he totally would have if it were relevant. I have nonetheless heard it preached that Jesus was willing to drink the wine because it was finished: He was dying, God’s kingdom was coming into the world, and all things were being made new. He drank it in victory… though it sure didn’t look like any victory at the time. But meh; I don’t buy it.

Is there an inconsistency between Jesus’s declaration, “I’ll never drink of the fruit of the vine again,” and drinking the vinegar? Maybe. But I expect, and most Christian expect, Jesus was speaking of proper wine. The festal stuff, which you drink at Passovers and holidays. Not the awful swill the Romans were providing.

In any event he probably did have the Psalms passage in mind when he drank the vinegar. Here the Romans were, offering him phony comfort. But it was deliberately made bitter, and was just another form of torment.

So Jesus put it off till the very last minute, did the deed and fulfilled the verse… then gave up the ghost.

What became of Judas Iscariot.

Matthew 27.3-10, Acts 1.15-26.

Technically Judas bar Simon of Kerioth, the renegade follower of Jesus whom we know as Judas Iscariot, isn’t part of the stations of the cross. Whether we’re using St. Francis or St. John Paul’s list, neither of ’em figured his situation is specifically worthy of meditation. Although we should study Judas some, ’cause he’s an example of an apostle gone wrong—an example we really don’t wanna follow. Nor repeat. But Jesus was too busy going through his own suffering to really focus on what was happening with Judas.

Judas came up when he handed Jesus over to the authorities… and in three of the gospels, that’s the last we ever hear of him. The exceptions are Matthew—and since the author of Luke also wrote Acts, it’s kinda in another gospel, ’cause Acts is about how the Holy Spirit and apostles started Jesus’s church. But that’s a whole other discussion.

Here’s the problem: For the most part, the Matthew and Acts stories contradict one another.

Not that inerrantists haven’t tried their darnedest to sync them up, and I’ll get to how they’ve tried it. But first things first: The passages.

Matthew 27.3-10 KWL

3 Upon seeing Jesus is condemned,

a repentant Judas his betrayer returned the 30 silvers

to the head priests and elders,

4 saying, “I sin by betraying innocent blood.”

They say, “What’s it have to do with us?

It’s your problem.”

5 Throwing the silver into the temple, Judas leaves,

and goes off to hang himself.

6 The head priests, taking the silver, say,

“We can’t put this in the treasury,

since it’s the value of blood.”

7 Convening, they decide to buy with it the potter’s field,

for burying strangers.

8 Thus that land is called Bloodfield to this day;

9 then the saying of the prophet Jeremiah is fulfilled,

saying, “They take the 30 silvers,

the value of the one they valued,

who was valued by Israel’s sons.

10 They give it for the potter’s field,

just as the Lord directed me.”

 

Acts 1.15-20 KWL

15 In these days, Simon Peter gets up

in the middle of the family to say,

“The crowd is more than 120 people I can name.

16 Men! Family!

We have to fulfill the scripture

the Holy Spirit foretold through David’s mouth

about Judas, who became the guide of those who arrested Jesus.

17 Judas was counted among us.

He received a place in this ministry.

18 He thus got himself a plot of land

from his unrighteous reward,

and was found face-down,

burst open, his innards all spilled out.

19 All Jerusalem’s dwellers came to know it,

so the plot’s called in their dialect Khaqal-Dema,” i.e. Bloodfield.

20 “It’s written in the book of Psalms:

‘Make his house desert, and don’t let settlers in it.’ Ps 69.25

And alternately, ‘Another person: Take his office.’” Ps 109.8

“Oh no! Easter is a pagan holiday!”

Whenever Easter approaches, you might run into Evangelicals who pointedly refer to the day as “Resurrection Sunday.” If not, don’t be surprised when you bump into ’em. And don’t be surprised when they comment, “Resurrection Sunday—not ‘Easter.’ I don’t do Easter. Easter is a pagan holiday.”

It is? According to these guys, it is. About a decade ago there was a meme claiming Easter was named for the Babylonian goddess Ishtar. (The name sounds so similar!) But more often you’re gonna hear the story of some northern European goddess of the spring named Eostre, and during the spring equinox, ancient pagans would worship her with symbols which represent fertility, like rabbits and eggs. And that’s where our secular Easter traditions came from: From pagans.

Okay. Those of us who know Christian history, know Jesus died the day before Passover in the year 33. The first Passover took place at some point in the 15th century BC, on 14 Nisan of whatever year that was. Nisan is the first month of spring, and Hebrew months begin at the new moon, so on the 14th the moon will be full. Christians swiped that holiday. Most of us still call it Passover! (Or some variant of Πάσχα/Páscha, the Greek word for Passover; only northern European languages call it something like Easter.)

So no, we didn’t adopt some pagan European equinox celebration. We swiped a Hebrew holiday which happens to take place the same time of year. And when European paganism was wiped out once European kings turned to Jesus, and ordered their subjects to turn to him too, the Europeans were left with all these unattached customs… with no god to connect ’em to anymore, because all they knew was Jesus.

Is that a problem? Only if people are still worshiping Eostre. But no one’s worshiping Eostre. When Europeans ditched that religion, they stopped worshiping her so hard, today’s historians know next to nothing about her! Europeans abandoned the Eostre legends, the Eostre worship practices, everything. It didn’t even go underground, or get collected in books about bygone mythology, like the stories we still have about Wotan and Thor and Baldr. Eostre’s gone. So gone, some historians doubt she even existed.

It’s exactly the sort of victory over pagan idolatry Christians should be sharing, celebrating, and rejoicing over. Instead we have paranoid Christians who wanna bring Eostre back, solely for the purpose of telling one another we need to hate and fear her. You realize there are real evils in the world we oughta fight, not ridiculous distractions. But nope, we have people trying to play connect-the-dots with other pagan gods, hoping to find some kind of devilish conspiracy theory. Hoping to find something to fear. Hoping to find something with which they can spread fear. Which says all kinds of devilish things about them.

Hence their dire warnings: “Watch out for these secular Easter traditions! If you do ’em, you might unintentionally worship Eostre. And God will be very, very angry.” And smite you somehow. Or smite the whole country. Supposedly he’s petty like that.

Okay. Any depiction of God which doesn’t describe him as gracious, which claims he’s eagerly planning to punish his kids for our unwitting errors, clearly hasn’t been paying any attention to the way Jesus describes his loving Father. ’Cause God does grace. Whereas these fearful Christians, and the churches where they get or spread their ridiculous rubbish, do not. It’s why they’re so fearful.

Don’t mimic such godless, fruitless people. Follow the Spirit. And use your head!

Jesus prays at Gethsemane.

Mark 14.32-41.

St. Francis’s stations of the cross begin with when Jesus is given his cross. (Duh; it is the stations of the cross.) But Jesus’s suffering actually began earlier, so St. John Paul’s list also begins earlier—with Gethsemane, the olive garden on Mt. Olivet, where Jesus prayed he might not go through the crucifixion.

Mark 14.32-41 KWL

32 Jesus and his students come to a field

whose name is Gat Semaním/“oil press.”

He tells his students, “Sit here while I pray,”

33 and Jesus takes Simon Peter

and James and John with him.

He begins to be distressed and troubled.

34 Jesus tells his students, “My soul

is intensely sad, to the point ofdeath.

Stay here and stay awake.”

35 Going a little further, Jesus is falling to the ground

and is praying that, if it’s possible, the hour might pass him by.

36 Jesus is saying, “Abba! Father!

For you, everything is possible!

Take this cup away from me!

But it’s not what I will,

but what you will.”

 

37 Jesus comes and finds his students sleeping.

He tells Peter, “Simon, you’re sleeping?

You can’t stay awake one hour?

38 Stay awake and pray!—

lest you come to temptation.

You have a truly eager spirit—

and weak flesh.”

 

39 Going away again, Jesus prays,

saying the same words.

40 Coming back again, Jesus finds his students sleeping,

for their eyes are very heavy.

They didn’t know how to answer him.

41 Jesus comes back a third time,

and tells his students, “Sleep the rest of the time.

Get your rest.

It’s enough.

…The hour comes.

Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into sinners’ hands.”

This story comes up in the synoptic gospels. It’s not in John, whose author had to do things his own way:

John 18.1 KWL

Upon saying these things,

Jesus goes with his students over the Kidron ravine,

where there’s an olive garden.

He enters it,

and his students follow.

John Paul recognized this is the beginning of Jesus’s passion, not when he was sentenced to death later that night. ’Cause that’s what the gospels depict: He went into the garden to pray, and suddenly it’s like he’s blindsided with emotion. It freaked him out a little. He wanted to pray; he wanted his kids to pray for him. But as people do when they’re up past their bedtime praying (and not just kids; don’t just blame this on their spiritual immaturity), they fell asleep on him. Three times.

Still, Jesus was really agitated, and John Paul recognized it’s this psychological trauma which marks where Jesus’s suffering began. Not just when he was taken away to die.

How much of the Nicodemus discourse did Jesus say?

John 3.1-21.

There’s a big debate among bible scholars, and you’ll see it reflected in various bible translations: How much of Jesus’s talk with Nicodemus consists of a direct quote from Jesus? Does Jesus stop talking in verse 15, and the rest is the apostle John’s commentary? Or is it all a Jesus quote?

You can see this when you compare bible translations. Some translations make it all a Jesus quote; some don’t. Check out the English Standard Version and the New International Version.

John 3.1-21 ESV 1 Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. 2 This man came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” 3 Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” 4 Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” 5 Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. 6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7 Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” 9 Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” 10 Jesus answered him, “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things? 11 Truly, truly, I say to you, we speak of what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen, but you do not receive our testimony. 12 If I have told you earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you heavenly things? 13 No one has ascended into heaven except he who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. 14 And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19 And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. 20 For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. 21 But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.”

John 3.1-21 NIV 1 Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. 2 He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.” 3 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” 4 “How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!” 5 Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. 6 Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. 7 You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” 9 “How can this be?” Nicodemus asked. 10 “You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? 11 Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. 12 I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? 13 No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man. 14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” 16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. 18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. 19 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. 20 Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. 21 But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.

Heck, in the Word Biblical Commentary, commentator George R. Beasley-Murray ends Jesus’s statement with verse 12, and “Nobody’s risen up to heaven…” etc. Jn 3.13 is all John.

Why’s this a big deal? Honestly, it’s really not. Whether Jesus said it or John said it, it’s still Spirit-inspired bible, and just as valid. Doesn’t matter whether the Spirit moved John to write it, or Jesus personally taught it to Nicodemus. Ultimately the ideas originate with God.

But you know how Christians get sometimes: If it’s in the red letters, it’s extra important. Because Jesus said it. Since we need to especially pay attention to Jesus’s teachings, we need to exalt ’em far more highly than if some ordinary apostle wrote it, whether that apostle is John, Paul, George, Ringo, Luke, Matthew, Sosthenes, Mark, Peter, James, Timothy, Silas, Jude, or whoever wrote Hebrews.

Lifting Jesus exposes the world’s darkness.

John 3.17-21.

God will judge the world at the end of time. Rv 20.11-15 But too many Christians have the false belief, and wanna have the false belief, and promote the false belief, that God is judging the world right now. Because they’re judging the world right now. It’s pure projection.

In contrast, Jesus says multiple times he isn’t here to judge the world, but save it. True of his first coming; true of his second. He’s coming back to save the world again; not by defeating sin and death again, but by personally leading all his followers (well, the ones who aren’t secretly hypocrites) to actually love our neighbors, make peace, and legitimately fix the world’s problems instead of sitting around waiting for him to do something. You know, do what he’s always taught us to do.

But since it’s way easier to just condemn the world and wash our hands of it, we usually do that. And adopt any beliefs which tell us Jesus thinks exactly like we do—that when he returns, he’s gonna burn the world down, kill all the wicked, and set up a New Jerusalem with only them in it. It’s a graceless, and therefore sick ’n twisted ’n totally unlike Jesus, version of things. It’s not good news; it’s evil.

In Jesus’s discourse with Nicodemus, he once again says it: His mission is to save the world. For God so loved the world that he saves those who trust him. Jn 3.16 And for those who don’t really trust him—including all the Christians who preach their own sick ’n twisted “gospel” instead of what Jesus actually teaches, because they don’t trust Jesus enough to actually care what he teaches—Jesus doesn’t have to judge them. Their actions pretty much do that for him.

Back to the discourse:

John 3.17-21 KWL

17 “For God doesn’t send his Son into the world

to judge the world,

but so that, through him, he might save the world.

18 One who trusts the Son is not judged.

One who doesn’t trust him, was already judged—

because they didn’t trust the name

of the only begotten Son of God.

19 This is the judgment:

The light came into the world.

People love the darkness more than the light,

for their works are evil.

20 Everyone who dabbles in meaningless stuff

hates the light,

and doesn’t come to the light

lest their works be rebuked.

21 One who does the truth

comes to the light,

so their works might be made known

because they were a labor done in God.”

Now this passage tends to confuse certain Christians—and certain pagans love to play dumb and deliberately let it confuse them—because in verse 17, Jesus says he’s not here to judge the world. (Or condemn the world; κρίνῃ/kríni, “he might critique,” can be translated either way.) Yet even though he says he’s not judging the world… verse 18 sure does make it look like he’s judging people who don’t trust him, and verses 19-21 sure do make it look like he’s judging people who embrace darkness instead of light.

But lemme point out the verb tenses here. Jesus isn’t here to (present-tense subjunctive) judge the world; but one who doesn’t trust the Son of God (perfect passive) was already condemned, at some point in the past. It’s the difference between a defendant on trial, and a convicted felon: One has yet to be judged, and the other’s been judged. And Jesus isn’t involved in either dude’s judgment. He’s actually here to save them both: If the convict wants parole, turn to Jesus! And if the defendant wants the verdict set aside, turn to Jesus!

So how do we know who’s a convict and who’s not? Simple. Jesus is the world’s light. If they’re not a convict, they’re happy to be in the light; it proves God is living and active in their lives. Jn 3.21 And if they are a convict, it’s just the opposite; they stick to the shadows, so they can hide their hypocrisy and disguise it as Christianity.

For God so loves the world.

John 3.14-17.

One of the first memory verses Christians are encourage to put into their brain is John 3.16, which many of us have memorized in the King James Version:

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.

I’ve heard a number of sermons and sermon series about this verse. I’ve read entire books written about this verse. I’ve watched a crappy video series about this verse, which featured some really bad actors in a really long one-act play about how important this verse is. And many an Evangelical Christian has told me this is the gospel, all summed up in one verse. This is the good news. This is Christianity.

Yeah, it’s not. The gospel is what Jesus says it is, and he articulated it in Mark 1.15.

Mark 1.15 KJV

And saying, The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe the gospel.

The kingdom of God is at hand. Not that John 3.16 is an unimportant or irrelevant verse at all! It tells us something vitally important about how the kingdom works—namely that we gotta believe in Jesus. And it reminds us a significant component of the kingdom is the age to come. But John 3.16 doesn’t mention the kingdom, and if you don’t know God has a kingdom and Jesus is its king, you don’t have the gospel. You have something about the gospel, but you’re missing a bunch of vital details.

In context, this verse comes in the middle of Jesus instructing Nicodemus, right after he objected to people who think they know it all, and therefore won’t listen to him. He knows what heaven is like, for that’s where he came from. He knows his Father, and if you know him you’ll know his Father too. He is the only one who can make clear sense of God. So you kinda have to pay attention to him. And lift him up so others can see him, listen to him, and trust him too.

John 3.14-17 KWL

14 “Same as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness,

it’s likewise necessary to lift up the Son of Man,

15 so everyone who trusts in the Son of Man

{might not be destroyed,

but} might have life in the age to come.

16 For this is how God loves the world.

Therefore he gives his only-begotten Son,

so that everyone who trusts in him

might not be destroyed,

but might have life in the age to come.

17 For God doesn’t send his Son into the world

to judge the world,

but so that, through him, he might save the world.”

We gotta look at Jesus. He defines Christianity. Not a bible verse; not even a particularly good bible verse. Not a church, not a movement, certainly not popular Christian culture. Jesus alone; Jesus’s teachings and actions and life and power. That’s why God sent his Son into the world—to give us someone to follow and mimic.

Unfortunately too many people have bent this verse a whole bunch, and got us to focus not on Jesus’s life, but entirely on Jesus’s death.

It’s hard to teach people whose minds are made up.

John 3.9-13.

When Nicodemus came by night to suss out Jesus, our Lord began their discussion by talking about getting born again. Because we gotta be born again. Flesh and blood can’t inherit God’s kingdom. 1Co 15.50

Evangelical Christians tend to claim “being born again” is purely a spiritual transformation. Not a radical change of character into one which produces good fruit. Not a resurrection into eternal life. It’s how they avoid both trying to develop good fruit, and adopting a proper view of the second coming instead of the End Times bloodbath they’re kinda fantasizing about in which Jesus smites all their political foes.

Being born again is a deep, challenging idea. Which Nicodemus balked at… as people will do when they’re confronted with something which demands real, transformative change of them. He began with the typical skeptic’s joke of “What, you mean that literally?” Jn 3.4 No; you misunderstand how new life works. But now Nicodemus went with a different skeptic’s tack: “Okay, explain how this is gonna happen.” In other words, explain it so I can critique it.

But Jesus, who’s far wiser than most people realize, didn’t take the bait.

John 3.9-13 KWL

9 In reply Nicodemus tells him, “How can these things happen?”

10 In reply Jesus tells him, “You’re Israel’s teacher.

You don’t already know these things?

11 Amen amen! I promise you:

We’ve known what we’re talking about.

We’ve seen what we’re testifying about.

You people don’t receive our testimony.

12 If you don’t trust me when I tell you earthly things,

how will you trust me when I tell you heavenly things?

13 Nobody’s risen up to heaven

except the one who comes down from heaven:

The Son of Man.” {Who’s in heaven.}

Text that was added to the New Testament by the Textus Receptus (and therefore found in the King James Version and NKJV) are in braces: John didn’t actually write it, and Jesus didn’t actually say it. Wouldn’t make any sense if he did. If Jesus had told Nicodemus the Son of Man is in heaven, it’d imply Jesus isn’t the Son of Man, because Jesus was right there, on earth, teaching the Pharisee senator about himself. He’d have to give Nicodemus a whole extra lesson about how the Son of Man was on both heaven and earth at the same time. Which he wasn’t; the whole point of verse 13 is to tell him the Son of Man came down from heaven.

And yet we have Christians who think the Textus and KJV have it right; that somehow Jesus was in heaven at the same time he told Nicodemus he’d come down from there. Somehow he was in two places at once, ’cause despite being in a human body, he’s God and omnipresent at the same time. But this is a heresy which turns Jesus into the remote-control avatar of the heavenly Son of God, instead of being fully God. Nope; not going there! If “Who’s in heaven” is to be seriously considered part of the text of John (and it’s probably best we don’t), it’d have to be an additional comment of the author of John—reminding us the Son of Man is in heaven now, but at the time he was talking to Nicodemus, he wasn’t yet.

Anyway. There’s a regular theme we see throughout John where Jesus tries to teach people something, but they can’t handle his teaching. This’d be one of those times.

Not because it’s impossible to understand Jesus! We give newbies the gospel of John, and they read it, and understand Jesus just fine. He’s deep, but he’s intelligible. John wrote most of his gospel in pretty basic Greek too, so most of the time it’s really easy to translate. Jesus uses tons of metaphors, but big deal; every culture has metaphors, and the ancient Hebrews were thoroughly familiar with metaphor; read Psalms and the Prophets sometime. Metaphor-a-rama.

The issue isn’t that Jesus goes over people’s heads. He doesn’t. The issue is people don’t want him in their heads. He’s too challenging! Too antithetical to the stuff people prefer to believe. Too contradictory to the stuff they grow up with, and take for granted. Too convicting.

And there’s another theme seen throughout John, which we also see right here in this passage: Jesus finds this rampant closed-mindedness really annoying.

You have to be born again.

John 3.3-8.

“Born again” has become a Christianese cliché, a phrase we use to mean we’ve come to Jesus, and now we’re all different. And no, you might not be able to see we’re any different, ’cause we still act like the same fruitless, raging jerks you’ll find at political rallies and sporting events. But no, really, we’re born again! We said the sinner’s prayer (possibly years ago) and now we’re new creations in Christ. Bible says so.

Is that anything at all like what Jesus is talking about? Well it’s like what Jesus is talking about; it’s borrowing his idea that some sort of spiritual transformation has happened in a Christian’s life. Problem is, this spiritual transformation, if it’s valid, produces good fruit. That’s the part Christians tend to skip over, because plenty of “born again” Christians haven’t changed at all, and the only fruit they produce is excuses for why all their definitions for the Spirit’s fruit don’t sound at all like basic commonsense definitions should. Why their definitions kinda sound like they’re making excuses for why they have no such fruit.

In short it’s hypocrisy. Let’s not do that.

As popular Christianity would have it, “I’ve been born again” pretty much means “I believe Jesus individually saves me from hell.” Sometimes they also correctly believe he saves us from sin and death. So, y’know, they have one basic orthodox belief. One. Whether they get more of ’em, or whether they produce good fruit, or whether they follow Jesus’s teachings and stop sinning, are entirely different deals. As you’ve seen.

Now let’s look at Jesus’s expectation. As he explained it to Nicodemus:

John 3.3-10 KWL

3 In reply Jesus tells him, “Amen amen! I promise you:

Unless one is born all over again,

one cannot see God’s kingdom.”

4 Nicodemus tells Jesus, “How can a person, being old, be born?

One can’t enter one’s mother’s womb a second time and be born.”

5 Jesus answers, “Amen amen! I promise you:

Unless one is born out of ‘water’ and Spirit,

one cannot enter God’s kingdom.

6 One who was born out of flesh, is flesh.

One who was born out of Spirit, is spirit.

7 You ought not wonder because I tell you

that you have to be born all over again.

8 The Spirit blows wherever he wants.

You hear his voice,

but you didn’t know where he comes from,

nor where he goes.

Same with everyone born of the Spirit.”

Briefly I should mention the “born out of ‘water’ ” bit. I, and many commentators, are pretty sure Jesus uses “water” as a euphemism for bodily fluids. Some of ’em think it refers to the woman’s water breaking during childbirth; some of ’em think it refers to semen. In general it means what physically has to happen before a baby is made. And getting born of the Spirit is what spiritually has to happen before a Christian is made.

The Greek word πνεῦμα/néfma can mean both “wind” and “spirit” and “[Holy] Spirit.” (So can the Hebrew word רוּחַ/ruákh.) Translators have to determine from the context of the passage which definition is correct. You notice most bibles go with “wind” in verse 8: “The wind bloweth where it listeth,” has the KJV. I went with “Spirit” for a few reasons. One is Jesus may mean wind, but he meant for Nicodemus to simultaneously think of both wind and the Holy Spirit; the statement is true of both the wind and the Holy Spirit. One can detect the Spirit’s activity—one can hear his φωνὴν/fonín, “sound, voice”—but does that really mean we know what he’s up to? Not necessarily. Likewise do we know what the Spirit does within us? Not necessarily.

Should we? Well, yeah! Pay attention to him! Follow him. Don’t just dismiss what he’s doing, and presume he’ll just grow fruit within us without any participation on our part. Because it doesn’t work that way at all—as demonstrated by all the fleshly Christians in the world who make “born again” sound like a silly joke to pagans.

Introducing Nicodemus.

John 3.1-4.

Because Cardinal Stephen Langton divided the gospel of John into chapters in the late 1100s, people tend to read John 3 without bothering to read the verses which come right before it. So they kinda miss the context where Jesus knows he can’t fully trust anyone. It’s kinda important to be aware of, because the very next thing in the gospel is when Nicodemus comes to visit him.

And the message Nicodemus brings him? “Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God.” Jn 3.2 KJV Who’s the “we”? The Judean senate. Nicodemus is an ἄρχων/árhon, “first-rank person,” a word often translated as “prince,” but this does not mean the son of a king or another prince; it means the number-one guy in the country. Or a member of the top caste, or someone from one of the most prominent families in Judea. Nicodemus’s family was important enough, rich enough, politically powerful enough, for him to buy a seat and a vote in their συνέδριον/synédrion (NIV “Sanhedrin,” KJV “council”), the assembly led by the head priest which ran everything in Judea which the Romans didn’t.

So the Judean senate knew Jesus is a teacher who came from God.

And… so what?

Did it mean they respected him as someone sent from God? Listened to him? Carefully considered whatever he taught, and once they determined it jibes with the scriptures and God’s character, followed him? Invited him to speak before the senate, and kept records of his wisdom? Invited him to lunch, at least?

Nope. They ignored him. Except for one senator, who went to visit Jesus at night so he’d be less likely to be seen publicly talking with our Lord in temple or synagogue or the streets.

Like John said, Jesus didn’t trust ’em with himself, because he’s fully aware of what’s in people. Jn 2.24-25 He knew exactly why the senate realized he came from God, but wouldn’t acknowledge him: It’d mean they’d have to repent. They’d have to stop compromising the worship of God and the following of his Law because of their pursuit of political power. They’d have to stop being hypocrites.

But they weren’t gonna make any such changes. Because they didn’t fear God—same as the unjust judge in Jesus’s Persistent Widow Story. (No doubt Jesus based that judge on actual judges in the senate, and his hearers knew exactly the kind of unjust judge he was talking about.) Didn’t follow God at all… yet arrogantly figured he was guaranteed a spot in God’s kingdom because he was a descendant of Abraham. Same as the self-described Christians in our country who assume they’re guaranteed a spot too, because they once said the sinner’s prayer.

Anyway. Nicodemus came with what he thought was good news for Jesus: Hey, in case you were wondering (’cause none of us ever said anything about it), we actually think you’re legitimately from God! You unofficially have our thumbs-up. Great news, huh?

But no, that’s not gonna cut it with Jesus. It’s not enough for them to recognize Jesus comes from God. You wanna see God’s kingdom—the one Messiah’s gonna personally inaugurate into the world—you have to be born again.

John 3.1-4 KWL

1 There’s a person from the Pharisees, Nicodemus by name,

a leader of the Judeans.

2 At night, this Nicodemus comes to Jesus

and tells him, “Rabbi, we knew you, a teacher, came from God:

No one can do these milestones which you do

unless God is with them.”

3 In reply Jesus tells him, “Amen amen! I promise you:

Unless one is born all over again,

one cannot see God’s kingdom.”

4 Nicodemus tells Jesus, “How can a person, being old, be born?

One can’t enter one’s mother’s womb a second time and be born.”

Being born again is a big concept, and I’ll get to it in another article. Today I’m just gonna focus on Nicodemus: Who this guy is, why it’s a big deal for him to come to Jesus, why what Jesus taught him blindsided him, but why it was a big deal for both him and us Christians. After all, part of Jesus’s lesson to Nicodemus has John 3.16 in it y’know.

Jesus knows you’re gonna fail him.

John 2.23-25.

At the end of John 2 there’s this odd statement, which ties right together with chapter 3, which I’ll talk about at that time. It’s where John discusses Jesus’s new fans.

John 2.23-25 KWL

23 While Jesus is in Jerusalem,

at Passover, at the feast,

many trust in his name,

seeing his milestones which he did.

24 Jesus himself isn’t trusting them with himself,

because of the knowledge he has of everyone,

25 for he has no need of anyone testifying about people:

He’s aware of what is in people.

Some Christians read this passage and immediately think, “Ah, it’s the divinity. Jesus doesn’t trust people because he’s God, and still has God’s infinite knowledge of who people are, what they’re like, and what everyone’s secret, selfish motives are.”

Others read it and figure, “Ah, Jesus understands basic human depravity. He knows all humans are inherently selfish, and without the Holy Spirit that’s all we’ll ever be. So he knows better than to trust any of ’em.”

So which of the two does Jesus have?—full divine knowledge of the cosmos, or a generic understanding of a typical human trait? Well, I believe when God became human, he had to surrender his divine power, which includes his full divine knowledge of the cosmos, because all that data cannot physically fit into 2 pounds of brain matter. Your brain holds 2½ petabytes max. That’s a lot of data (it’s 20 quadrillion bits), but it’s nowhere near enough to know everything about ancient Jerusalem, much less the whole ancient world, and even less the 8 billion humans on today’s world.

Yeah, some Christians balk at that idea, because to their minds, God is power. Jesus without power wouldn’t be God. Problem is, Jesus with all that divine power wouldn’t authentically be human. He’d only be pretending to be human, and that’d make him a hypocrite, and hypocrisy is the one thing which annoys Jesus most.

So Jesus surrendered his power. But he can still tap God’s power same as we can: He has the Holy Spirit without limit, Jn 3.34 and the Spirit is just as infinitely powerful and knowledgeable as ever. If Jesus wants to know anything about anyone, the Spirit knows and will tell him. If Jesus wants to know just what kind of darkness lies in the heart of every other human being, the Spirit can give him a quick summary: Human depravity. We’re all messed up because we prioritize ourselves over other people and God.

And whether Jesus gained his knowledge through divine omniscience, or simply knowing about basic human depravity, it really doesn’t matter: He knows. He can’t trust other people. Not fully. They will fail. Even the best of them will fail him. Even his best student, Simon Peter; even the students who were family members, like James and John; they mean well, but they’re only human.

Even us. Even me. Even you. You will fail him. Sorry, but don’t kid yourself.

And don’t beat yourself up about it either. He already knows you’re gonna fail him. He loves you anyway. Wants you to follow him anyway. Wants you, once you fail, to repent, come back to him, and keep taking care of his sheep, same as Peter. Jn 21.17 Try not to fail, but if you do fail, you still have Jesus. 1Jn 2.1 Who won’t fail.

But other than Jesus, people fail. So don’t be so gobsmacked when they do!

Knock the temple down?

John 2.18-22.

During the first Passover we read of in the gospel of John, our Lord goes into temple, sees people selling animals in the Gentile Court, makes a whip, and drives the merchants out.

In the synoptic gospels, Jesus got critiqued for it either the next morning, Mk 11.27-33, Mt 21.23-27 or days later. Lk 20.1-8 But in John it seems he got pushback immediately. Now it could’ve happened much later; John wasn’t always too worried about chronology. (As you’ll see when he briefly talks about Jesus rising from the dead.) John preferred to stick to themes, not timeline.

Nevertheless here’s the story.

John 2.18-22 KWL

18 So in reply, the Judeans tell Jesus,

“What milestone do you show us that you can do this?”

19 In reply Jesus tells them, “Break down this shrine.

In three days I’ll raise it.”

20 So the Judeans say, “This shrine took 46 years to build.

And you, in three days, will raise it?”

21 This Jesus is speaking of the shrine of his body,

22 so when he’s raised from the dead,

his students will remember he says this,

and believe the scripture, and the word Jesus says.

Okay. So Jesus shows up in temple, starts knocking stuff over, starts bossing people around. And in the context of the Judean culture and Hebrew religion, this means one of three things:

• This guy legitimately hears the LORD and was ordered to speak for him, and is telling them to do this stuff because the LORD said so.
• This guy works for the Romans, or the Judean senate, or some other civic authority with the power to actually decree these things.
• This guy’s a nut.

Same as if he showed up in one of our churches and ordered the pastors to shut down the bookstore. Either the LORD decreed it, or he’s from the city or county and thinks they’re breaking the law, or he’s a nut.

Now if Jesus worked for the Romans, they’d probably do everything he told them. And protest a lot, because the priests had Roman citizenship and would demand their rights, and a fair trial, and maybe get the governor fired if they could.

But if Jesus works for the LORD… well, they figured they likewise worked for the LORD, and surely they could figure out whether the LORD had decided to upset their comfortable status quo by sending ’em a prophet or judge. So they wanted proof Jesus was a prophet of the LORD: Give us something which might confirm you’re legitimate.

And that… is actually a valid request. We’re supposed to test prophets. Not just accept they’re prophets because they have a website, and business cards printed up, and introduce themselves as “Prophet Whatshisname” whenever they say hello to people. All sorts of people claim that title, and way too many of them are talking to mental sock puppets instead of God. We need evidence. ’Cause if it’s really God, he can stand up to scrutiny. And fakes can’t.

Now no, they weren’t asking for a trick. Like Moses turning his staff into a snake, or spontaneously sprouting leprosy, or turning water to blood. Ex 4.1-9 Any illusionist can create one of those; the Egyptian illusionists certainly did. They were looking for a σημεῖον/simeíon, “milestone,” an event which couldn’t be self-fulfilling or coincidental. Typically this’d be an event which would happen in the near future.

And… well, Jesus gave ’em one. His own resurrection. Break him down, and in three days he’ll rise again. Which they did; which he did.

When Jesus got out the whip.

John 2.12-17.

Since we’re here, let’s just start with the story.

John 2.12-17 KWL

12 After the wedding, Jesus goes down to Capharnaum

with his mother, his siblings, and his students.

Not many days do they stay there;

13 it’s nearly the Judeans’ Passover,

and Jesus goes up to Jerusalem.

14 In temple Jesus finds cattle, sheep, and pigeon sellers,

and cashiers taking up residence.

15 Making a whip out of ropes,

Jesus throws everyone, plus sheep and cattle, out of temple.

He pours out the cashiers’ coins.

He flips over the tables.

16 He tells the pigeon sellers, “Get these things out of here!

Don’t make my Father’s house a market-house!”

17 Jesus’s students recalled it’s written,

“The zeal of your house will eat me up.” Ps 69.9

In the other gospels, Jesus kicked the merchants out of temple during Holy Week, Mk 11.15-17, Mt 21.12-13, Lk 19.45-46 meaning the week before Passover in the year 33. In John it takes place at Passover in the year 27, as deduced by how long the temple’d been under renovation. Jn 2.20 Hence the debate among scholars is whether Jesus kicked the merchants out of temple

1. once in the year 33, but the gospels don’t have their facts straight, or
2. twice—once in 27 at beginning of his mission, and once again in 33 before he was killed.

And let’s not rule out the possibility Jesus did this every single time he went to temple—in John’s gospel we read of the first time, and in the synoptic gospels we read of the last. Because why would Jesus drive the merchants out once, then put up with them for years thereafter, then right before he died finally drive them out again? I mean, it wasn’t okay for them to go back to business for all the years inbetween; wouldn’t Jesus have kept at them?

Funny thing is, the most common theory is it happened once, on Holy Week. Even the inerrantists in the churches where I was raised, teach it happened once. They wouldn’t overtly say only once, but that’s how they’d teach it: They’d say today’s passage came from Mark or Matthew or Luke… and they’d fill in some of the blanks in the story with John, implying this is all the same event.

One of the most obvious blanks they’d fill in from John: The whip. Because Jesus didn’t have a whip in the synoptic gospels. Really! Read ’em for yourself.

Mark 11.15-17 KJV

15 And they come to Jerusalem: and Jesus went into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves; 16 and would not suffer that any man should carry any vessel through the temple. 17 And he taught, saying unto them, Is it not written, My house shall be called of all nations the house of prayer? but ye have made it a den of thieves.

 

Matthew 21.12-13 KJV

12 And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves, 13 and said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.

 

Luke 19.45-46 KJV

45 And he went into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold therein, and them that bought; 46 saying unto them, It is written, My house is the house of prayer: but ye have made it a den of thieves.

Yep, no whip! But man do Christians love that image of Jesus with a whip. So they deliberately swipe it from John. Didn’t matter if they believed the story in John happened at another time; they just couldn’t pass up the idea of Jesus giving the merchants a good whipping. I leave it to you as to whether prioritizing the whip over the textual integrity suggests something sorta demented about them.

The less-common but popular variant of this theory is it still happened only once—but at the beginning of Jesus’s mission, following John’s timetable. Not during Holy Week. So why do the synoptic gospels put it there? ’Cause it’s more dramatic.

My view is Jesus kicked the merchants out of temple more than once. Maybe every time he went to temple. Maybe that’s why he had a whip in John, but not the other gospels: They learned their lesson by the time Holy Week came around.

Jesus provides six kegs for a drunken party.

John 2.6-11.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hosea 4.11 KJV

Whoredom and wine and new wine take away the heart.

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

Matthew 9.17 KJV

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

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

Acts 2.13 KJV

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

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

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

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

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