Jesus explains Elijah’s second coming.

Mark 9.9-13, Matthew 17.9-13, Luke 9.36.

In the previous passage, Jesus took his students up a hill, where they saw him transform into a glowing being, and Moses and Elijah appeared to have a chat with him. Various Christians love to interpret this as Jesus showing off his divinity; I prefer the alternative idea that this is a ὅραμα/órama, “vision,” Mt 17.9 of the glory of God’s kingdom, as indicated by Jesus in the verse right before the transfiguration story.

Probably because this vision is so open to utter misinterpretation, Jesus decided to have his kids keep it to themselves for a while, just till the context of his own resurrection helped make it make sense.

Mark 9.9-10 KWL

9 As they were going down the hill, Jesus commanded the students

so no one who saw these visions would describe them till the Son of Man might rise from the dead.

10 The students kept this word to themselves—

though arguing, “What’s ‘to rise from the dead’ mean?”

 

Matthew 17.9 KWL

As they were going down the hill, Jesus commanded the students, saying,

“Nobody may speak of the vision till the Son of Man might rise from the dead.”

 

Luke 9.36 KWL

As the voice came, the students found Jesus alone.

They were silent, and in those days, reported nothing they saw to anyone.

Obviously they told everybody afterwards, ’cause now the story’s in the synoptic gospels. Though you notice in Mark they were still wondering about this “rise from the dead” business—because in the Pharisee timeline of the End Times, nobody gets resurrected till the very end. This is why Jesus getting resurrected only three days after he died, was completely unexpected.

Because the transfiguration is a vision of the End, naturally the students had the End Times on the brain. Especially since they’d just seen a major End Times figure, the eighth-century BC northern Israeli prophet Elijah of Tishbe. Elijah had been raptured instead of dying, so he went straight to heaven instead of paradise. And Pharisees believed he was coming back from heaven, right before the End, to spark a major revival. ’Cause Malachi said so.

Malachi 4.5-6 KWL

5 “Look: I send the prophet Elijah to you when the great, fearful LORD’s Day comes.

6 He’ll restore the parents’ hearts to their children, and the children’s hearts to their parents,

—or I’ll come and smite the land with my Ban.”

—Well, y’notice if people don’t respond to the revival they’ll be cursed, which is how ancient Christians interpreted when the Romans destroyed Jerusalem. But in Jesus’s day, Pharisees figured Elijah would return to warm up the crowd for Messiah. And since Elijah had just appeared to Jesus’s students, part of their terrified excitement was the idea, This is happening! The End has come! The kingdom has arrived! RIGHT NOW!

Only to have the Father order them, “Listen to my Son,” the vision blink out, and Jesus back to normal. It’s not the End yet. Bit of a disappointment.

But since the topic comes up, what is Elijah’s role in the End Times?

The second coming of Elijah.

Darbyists, the followers of John Nelson Darby’s general view of the End, still have Elijah in their timeline. They think he’s one of the two prophets in Revelation who show up and prophesy for about 3½ years. An angel described ’em to the apostle John:

Revelation 11.3-12 KWL

3 I’ll give them two of my witnesses, and they’ll prophesy 1,260 days, clothed in sack.

4 These are the two olive trees, the two lampstands standing on the earth before the Master.

5 If anyone wants to harm them, fire comes out of their mouths and devours their enemies.

If anyone might want to harm them, this is how they have to kill them.

6 During the days of their prophecy, they have the power to shut heaven so it might not rain,

and the power over the waters, to turn them into blood, and to smite the earth with whatever plagues they might want.

7 Once they finish their witness, the beast coming out of the Abyss will make war with them.

It’ll conquer and kill them, 8 and their corpses

—in the square of the great city, which is spiritually called ‘Sodom’ and ‘Egypt,’ where our Master was also crucified—

9 all the people, tribes, tongues, and nations see their corpses 3½ days,

and their corpses aren’t allowed to be put in a tomb.

10 The land’s inhabitants rejoice over them, and party, and will send gifts to one another,

for these two prophets were a real pain to the land’s inhabitants.

11 After 3½ days a living spirit from God entered into the prophets, and they stood on their feet.

Great fear fell upon their observers.

12 The prophets heard a great voice from heaven saying this: ‘Come here!’

They went up to heaven in a cloud, and their enemies saw them.”

Elijah’s known for praying for the rain to stop, and Moses (well, Aaron too) is known for smiting Egypt with lots of plagues, including the water-to-blood plague. So various Christians note the similarity to Moses and Elijah… and some Christians are pretty sure these guys are literally Moses and Elijah, even though Moses is dead. Dt 34.5-7 Not that God can’t resurrect Moses before the End, same as Jesus, but since Revelation says these two prophets get killed, Rv 11.7 it’s likely not Moses. Resurrection appears to be permanent.

So again, prophets who are like Moses and Elijah. Although why these men have to be Old Testament saints, and not present-day Christians, makes no sense to me… and in any case I don’t believe these prophets are meant to represent literal men at all. But that’s a discussion for another time.

Same with Malachi. He wasn’t speaking literally of Elijah’s second coming, as Jesus quickly makes clear. This is a prophet like Elijah, of Elijah’s spirit and power, whom Jesus had already singled out as fulfilling that prophecy.

Matthew 11.14-15 KWL

14 “If you want to receive this, John is ‘the Elijah to come.’ 15 Those with ears: Hear.”

Gabriel had told John’s father Zechariah the same thing, even going so far as to quote Malachi.

Luke 1.17 KWL

17 He’ll precede him in Elijah’s spirit and power, ‘to turn back fathers’ hearts to their children,’ Ml 4.6

and rebels back to orthodox thinking—to get the people ready for the Lord.”

John the baptist was pretty sure he wasn’t Elijah, and publicly said so. Jn 1.21 But Jesus knows better. So when the students asked him about Elijah, that’s what he told ’em.

Mark 9.11-13 KWL

11 The students asked Jesus, saying this: “Why do the scribes say Elijah must come first?”

12 Jesus told them, “Indeed Elijah’s coming is first; he restores everything.

How is it written about the Son of Man?—he might suffer much; he might be despised.

13 But I tell you Elijah also came, and people did to him whatever they wanted, just as was written of him.”

 

Matthew 17.10-13 KWL

10 The students asked Jesus, saying, “So why do the scribes say Elijah must come first?”

11 In reply Jesus said, “Indeed Elijah comes, and will restore everything.

12 And I tell you Elijah came now, and people didn’t know him, but did to him whatever they wanted.

The Son of Man is also about to experience the same things.”

13 Then the students understood Jesus spoke to them of John the baptist.

Of course Darbyists are more attached to their timelines than the bible, so they wanna explain Jesus away by pointing to how he said, “Elijah also came” Mk 9.13 and “Elijah comes [and] Elijah came now,” Mt 17.11-12 and insist Jesus is speaking of multiple comings of Elijah. There’s the first coming in the eighth century; the second coming, i.e. John the baptist; and a third coming during the End Times, in the person of one of the prophets of Revelation 11.

But Malachi’s Elijah prophecy is ultimately fulfilled in John the baptist. It needn’t be fulfilled again. Not in our End Times prophecies, nor elsewhere.

There are always gonna be prophets who do Elijah-like things. Which stands to reason: They’re filled with the same Holy Spirit who empowered both Elijah and John. And some of them, like Elijah and John, are gonna be into long hair and leather. But the Second Coming of Elijah isn’t a literal second coming; it’s John.

And the restoration of everything doesn’t start with the End Times. It started with the birth of John the baptist. It began when John was born, grew up, proclaimed God’s kingdom, and pointed to Jesus. It continued when Jesus started teaching about his kingdom, died to free us from sin so we could enter his kingdom, and left so we could get to work spreading his kingdom. It ends when Jesus returns to reign over it personally.

To listen to some of the End Times watchers, they sound like the restoration of everything doesn’t start till the rapture. So what’re they doing in the meanwhile? Well they might be spreading the kingdom, but not intentionally! They spend far more of their time worrying about it.

Don’t you worry about it. Jesus wins. Meanwhile, seek his kingdom. John the baptist is the sign the last days have begun, and God is making all things new. Join him.

Valentine’s Day acrostics.

Probably the first time I saw one of those John 3.16 Valentine acrostics was back in 2012. It’s where somebody took all the letters in “Valentine,” found ’em within an English translation of the verse, and arranged it so we can “see” John 3.16 is God’s valentine to the world. Like so.
The gospel according to graphic designers. Pinterest

Aww. Now I don’t need syrup for my waffles.

I see internet posters like this all the time. I even make some of ’em. Some of these things are inspiring or clever or well-designed. I also appreciate it when Christians quote the bible properly.

But some designers aren’t so conscientious, and some Christians are mighty gullible. They don’t read their bibles, y’see. They’re not gonna read their bibles, either; they’re never gonna fact-check an internet poster, find out the scripture’s been misquoted, or that the sentiment or inspirational saying actually isn’t biblical. They leave that to killjoys like me.

I don’t have an issue with laying out John 3.16 so it looks like a happy Valentine’s acrostic, but if you’re trying to claim there’s something profound or insightful in layout, of all things, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Any scripture can be rearranged this way. Did it myself.

Unlike John 3.16, it’s even broken up into full clauses. TXAB

Nope, Isaiah 1.2-3 isn’t about love whatsoever. On the contrary: It’s about ancient Israel’s utter lack of love towards God. It’s about depending on cheap grace, figuring big displays of worship will make up for institutional injustice and sin against the needy and powerless. That making a big fuss makes up for taking God for granted.

In other words, it’s kinda perfect for the way most people celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Pretty sure it won’t go viral though. John 3.16 will always get all the love.

Happy St. V’s day. Love one another.

Tracts: How to share Jesus with handouts.

TRACT trækt noun. Short written work in pamphlet form, typically on a religious subject.

By “tract” I mean any booklet, broadside, brochure, card, handout, invitation, flyer, pamphlet, or poster, which introduces the gospel to people. And there’s nothing wrong with using ’em to share Jesus.

Certain Christians object to tracts. Commonly because of the contents of the tracts themselves. I’ve seen plenty which are ridiculous, inaccurate, or even offensive. I certainly don’t wanna hand out those types of tracts; I don’t wanna be associated with foolishness, error, and slander, or make people think Christ Jesus has anything to do with such things. Plenty enough of that in Christendom as it is.

One argument I’ve heard against tracts, is they’re impersonal. These folks claim the way to share Jesus is to make personal connections with fellow human beings, then introduce them to the person of Jesus. But a tract does no such thing. It kinda reduces a living relationship with our awesome Lord… to an advertisement.

These are valid concerns, so I’ll deal with ’em.

Ridiculous tracts.

There are a lot of stupid tracts out there. No, seriously, a lot of them. Certain Christians think that’s the way to get people to read ’em: Be funny, be silly, or be shocking.

But not every tract-writer has a good sense of humor, and the end result is a groan-worthy tract which isn’t funny, or full of stale and overworked jokes, or makes light of all the parts we probably shouldn’t trivialize. Or they try to use wordplay and sarcasm, but they do it in a way where only they seem to get the joke, and everybody else who reads it is simply confused.

And not every tract-writer knows how to make a good-looking tract. They can’t spell, or have poor grammar. They can’t design, so the text is too small or too large, or they put it on top of an image… but it’s nearly the same color, so you can barely read it. They can’t draw, so the images are childish. Or they pulled their images off the internet… and didn’t pay for them, so you can still see the watermark in all the photos. And of course they don’t know how to resize the images, so they’re all stretched and squashed.

Sometimes it’s much worse. Dark Christians love to make tracts, and of course they don’t present the good news; it’s all bad news. It’s all about how we’re dirty sinners, going to hell, and nothing can save us but the sinner’s prayer. It’s not about speaking the truth in love; Ep 4.15 they really don’t have love to give.

Many a dark Christian tract begins by bashing something. Certain sins which offend ’em, Hollywood and the media, politics, other religions, even fellow Christians who worship too differently. While this sort of tract definitely appeals to dark Christians, it’s wholly inappropriate for sharing Jesus. It’s the Holy Spirit’s job to convict people of sin. Jn 16.8 Not ours. He convicts ’em in the right way—in a kind way. Whereas dark Christians don’t do kindness either.

Trendy tracts—cards with a pop star or images from a movie or TV show on the front, and the gospel on the back—become out-of-date awfully fast. (Especially since the tract-makers are usually behind the times anyway.) Unless you evangelize teenagers, or parents of teenagers, the percentage of people who are actually up on the latest trends is quite small. I don’t bother with trendy tracts either.

And let’s not forget the deceptive tracts. There’s a tract I came across which, no foolin’, looks like a folded $100 bill. People grab it because they think it’s money, and surprise!—not only isn’t it, but it rebukes you for desiring something as fleeting as money, when you can have eternal life with Jesus. You do realize there are evil people out there who will try to give these tracts instead of tips, and think they’re being righteous. Don’t encourage such behavior.

Don’t use bad tracts. Pick ’em carefully. I prefer any tract which presents the gospel in a straightforward way. I don’t wanna waste people’s time with provocative tracts—with something which appears to be about one thing, and surprise!—it’s religious material. I’ve seen pagans straight-up flinch at such things, and throw them away in disgust. I don’t want that reaction. I want it nice and obvious, on the cover, what this is—because many people will throw out handouts unread, and if I’ve wasted the cover on a hook instead of the gospel, more fool me.

An impersonal handout?

When someone on the street hands me a flyer, I glance at it. I keep it if it seems interesting, and put it in the trash if it doesn’t. Most of the time that’s exactly what people do with a tract. Most of the tracts you hand out will do nothing. Same as any advertising.

In a Christian-majority country, you’re gonna give a lot of tracts to people who already consider themselves Christian. They’ll throw ’em out because they figure they’re good. The rest of the folks: Most don’t care about religion at all, and don’t care to be converted. A small percentage will actually bother to read your tract. A much smaller percentage might allow themselves to be affected by them.

So lots of folks justify tract-passing for this very reason: If they hand out a thousand tracts, and one person comes to Jesus, it’s worth it. And okay, I can’t disagree with that. One person’s eternal life is worth a billion tracts.

But still: Isn’t there anything we can do to improve these statistics any?

And of course there is: Make it personal. When you stand on the street handing out flyers, engage people. If they’re not trying to rush past you, see if you can stop ’em briefly and say, “Do you have a minute?—can I share something with you?” Then share the tract with them. Read it to them. Or, if you have it memorized, tell them the story as they read the flyer. Give them some actual human contact to associate with your tract. Give ’em an experience they can connect with, rather than just a handout which they may or may not read.

If you find out they’re already Christian, see if you can get ’em to pass the tract forward to someone else. If they’re not interested, then okay they’re not interested; you did your job and shared.

But that’s how you improve a tract’s effectiveness. And improve your effectiveness as an evangelist, for that matter.

Free tract!

If you’re wondering, “What’s an example of a good tract?” here’s one I’ve used quite a lot—and not just ’cause I used to work at the ministry which makes ’em. It’s a pamphlet produced by Barnabas Missions Unlimited called “Our Spiritual Journey Together.”

It’s set up so that you can print it on both sides of a sheet of paper, cut it in half, and fold it. You can download the PDF free, in English or Spanish, put your church’s name on the back, and distribute as many as you like. There are directions on their site on how to present it in greater detail at Barnabas Missions’ website.

Likely you’ve seen other good tracts. Most “Four Spiritual Laws” tracts or “Romans Road” tracts are good; and of course there’s no reason you can’t create your own. In fact, if you have created your own, let me know so I can put it on a resource page.

Angry prayers.

IMPRECATE 'ɪm.prə.keɪt verb. Call down evil upon.

[Imprecation ɪm.prə'keɪ.ʃən noun, imprecatory ɪm'prək.ə.tɔ.ri adjective]

Yep, there’s a whole category of prayer which is all about people letting loose their rage as they pray. Not because they’re angry with God—although sometimes they might be! But commonly they’re furious at other people, at human behavior, or at Satan itself. So they call down God’s wrath, or put curses on people and things, or otherwise condemn ’em.

I started with a definition of the old-timey word Christians use to describe such things: Imprecatory prayer. (Not everyone knows how to pronounce it properly.) It’s a nicer way of saying “angry prayer.”

And lest you think God doesn’t allow, or listen to, angry prayer: Nope, he permits it. Angry prayers are in the bible. There’s a bunch of ’em in Psalms. ’Cause sometimes King David’s enemies would piss him off, so he’d declare God was gonna do all sorts of savage things to ’em. God didn’t necessarily, because God’s under no obligation to answer our prayers like a leprechaun grants wishes; he can easily tell us no, and often will. So any Christian who panics, “Don’t declare such things into the universe!—it might come to pass!” clearly hasn’t read their scriptures.

But yeah, angry prayers are in the bible. Including the New Testament, lest you get the idea it’s solely an Old Testament thing. Paul damned anyone who preaches another gospel than his, Ge 1.8-9 and damned anyone who didn’t love the Lord. 1Co 16.22 Jesus himself damned a fig tree, Mt 21.19 and warned several cities at the rate they were going, they were on the road to hell. Lk 10.13-15

Among those who have read their scriptures, one favorite imprecatory prayer is good ol’ Psalm 109. Many a partisan has joked about how it’s their favorite prayer for certain politicians. “Oh, I pray for the president every day; I pray directly from the scriptures—”

Psalm 109.6-13 KWL

6 Place a wicked person over him, with Satan standing at his right.

7 May those judging him return an evil verdict, and his prayers be offensive.

8 May his days be few, and another ruler supervise him.

9 May his children become fatherless, and his woman a widow.

10 May his children wander, wander, begging, digging through people’s trash.

11 May debt seize everything he owns, and strangers steal his labor.

12 May he never find love; his fatherless children never be given grace.

13 May his generation be the last one, and his family name be wiped out.

And so on. You get the idea. David wrote this because he wanted this guy thoroughly crapped upon, because this enemy and his friends had done likewise to David. David wanted karmic justice—for the evildoer to get what David felt was coming to him.

Now as I said, there are certain Christians who think imprecatory prayers are awful and wrong; that because anger is a work of the flesh, we ought never pray angry. And obviously there are Christians who think otherwise. Generally we’re of three minds:

• All for it. Evildoers need and deserve our condemnation.
• Wholly inappropriate for Christians: We’re ordered to forgive. Mk 11.25 Forgive friends, forgive enemies, forgive everyone, or God won’t bother to forgive our own sins. Mk 11.26 What’re we, of all people, doing calling down curses upon others?
• Only appropriate towards the devil and devilish things, bad behaviors, evil ideas, false thinking, corrupt institutions. We draw the line at fellow human beings. Never ask God to destroy women and men, no matter how bad they get. ’Cause God made them in his image, Jm 3.9 and wants to save everyone, 2Pe 3.9 not destroy ’em. Everybody’s redeemable.

Me, I lean towards the third category. And a fourth: If we’re angry, and we need to calm down and get ahold of ourselves, go ahead and pray while angry—and ask God to help you regain control; to help “gentle” you, as a horse-trainer might say. We need a healthy outlet for anger, and sometimes that outlet is to tell God you’re pissed off. Tell God what you’d really like him to do to all those people who’re frustrating you—and let him take that rage away.

Dark Christians, angry prayers.

In my experience the crowd who’s fondest of imprecatory prayer consists of dark Christians. Of course.

In life, humans get angry. Christians get angry. Yes, even Jesus got angry, Mk 3.5 and no doubt still gets that way. Anger’s a natural emotional reaction when we wanna see things happen a certain way and they don’t. It’s even appropriate when injustice takes place. In itself, anger isn’t necessarily evil. But we certainly use it as an excuse for every kind of evil. And a lifestyle of anger means we’re not following the Holy Spirit, who gives us peace. Angry Christians are fruitless Christians.

Their justification is the prophets prayed such prayers. And the apostles got a little outraged from time to time too. Even Jesus had his “woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” bits in the gospels. Mt 23.13-29 (They don’t realize “woe unto you” means “how sad for you,” not “damnation upon you.” They don’t really care either.) They figure they have a valid precedent for praying likewise.

But here’s the thing: When Jesus condemned cities, he didn’t do it maliciously. He doesn’t wanna destroy anyone! God wants everyone to be saved. 1Ti 2.3-4 Jesus is loving, patient, and kind, and that’s the attitude we have to read into everything he does. Even when he condemns.

We aren’t so loving, patient, and kind. We’re angry, spiteful, and cruel. We bring those attitudes into our prayers, and they’re the wrong ones. God doesn’t care to answer fruitless prayers. If our imprecatory prayers are borne out of anything but the Spirit’s fruit, we really have no business praying them.

Wait, so how do we kindly curse anything?

Really easy: When a loved one is sick, we have all kinds of compassion for the person, right? But none for the ailment. None for the virus. None for the bacteria making ’em puke. We want it out of them and gone. So we can easily condemn the illness: “I rebuke this illness, and demand it come out of you in Jesus’s name.” We never have to lose our heads in doing so.

Now if we can’t do that—if we always lose control of our emotions when we rebuke evil—we’d better hold off on the angry prayers. Maybe for a long time. Ask the Spirit for the self-control we’re clearly missing.

Dark Christians neither understand this, nor care. Like a gun nut who also has no self-control, they just keep indiscriminately firing away—unaware God swapped their ammo for blanks long ago, because he can’t trust them to pray right.

God doesn’t have to agree, y’know.

Now yeah, there’s the crowd who ban angry prayers of all sorts. Not just because Christians should forgive instead of cursing. Ro 12.14 A number of Christians are convinced curses stick; that when we call down evil, we actually have the power to make evil materialize out of thin air. Supposedly one of the ways God made us in his image, was to make us able to create ex nihilo/“out of nothing” like him.

No; God did no such thing. Everything we humans create is made of pre-existing material. Not even our ideas are created from nothing: Most are obviously based on something, and if its influence isn’t obvious to you, it is to the person who last had that idea. We can’t create anything out of thin air, much less evil. Humans need power to fuel our curses, and unless you’re colluding with devils, the power has to come from the Holy Spirit. But if the Spirit has no intention of empowering our angry demands (and he usually doesn’t), nothing’s gonna come of them. We have him under no obligation whatsoever.

Remember Saul of Tarsus? Violent persecutor, enemy of Christ? Ac 8.3, 9.1 Betcha plenty of Christians, at the time, damned Paul to the stinkiest parts of hell for what he was doing to Jesus’s church. Did God agree with any of these vengeful prayers? Absolutely not. Rather than destroy Saul, he flipped him. Jesus appeared to him, commissioned him as his apostle to the gentiles, and made him spend the rest of his life willingly undoing all the evil he originally. Ac 26.14-18 God knows better, and his plans are infinitely better than our curses.

We can curse a person up, down, and sideways, and add “In the name of Christ Jesus” as much as we wish. But if Jesus doesn’t approve, nothing’s gonna happen. Our imprecatory prayers come to nothing… for they don’t actually conform to God’s will. His will be done, remember? Lk 11.2

For there’s no fruit of the Spirit in angry prayer. There’s no love nor compassion; no kindness, forgiveness, grace, nor mercy. Take another look at Psalm 109: Regardless of the horrible things David’s enemy might’ve done to him, what business did David have in wishing horrible things upon his enemy’s children? What kind of twisted prayer demands that God make the innocent suffer? Obviously David’s prayer doesn’t reflect God’s mind at all.

Okay, so what’s it even doing in the bible? Well, it’s not to teach us it’s okay to wish evil upon the innocent. It’s to teach us it’s okay to vent to God. It’s okay to tell God how we honestly feel: We feel like being harsh, unforgiving, unyielding, loveless, and savage. None of this comes as any surprise to God, of course. He knows our hearts. (He’s heard way worse.) And it’s far better we express these sentiments to God, than ever act on them.

Learn from the angry psalms.

Seriously, some of the angry psalms are messed up. Some poet actually sat down, wrote these lines, set it to music, and for the past 25 centuries Christians and Jews have recited and sang these prayers. Sometimes several times a year.

Yes sang. Scottish Presbyterians, because they originally wouldn’t sing anything that didn’t come directly from the bible, translated the psalms and set ’em to music. And sometimes they’d sing this.

Psalm 137.7-9, Scottish metrical psalms

7 Remember Edom’s children, LORD, who in Jerus’lem’s day,

“E’en unto its foundation raze, raze it quite,” did say.

8 Oh daughter thou of Babylon, near to destructión:

Blessed shall be he that thee rewards, as thou to us hast done.

9 Yea, happy surely shall he be thy tender little ones,

Who shall lay hold upon, and them shall dash against the stones.

Pretty sick.

When we’re not frighteningly taking these passages out of context, Christians tend to treat ’em like we’d treat an embarrassing racist grandmother: We pretend she didn’t just say horribly offensive things. We blame it on her being old, out of touch, out of date. We don’t stand up to her. Not even sure we should, ’cause aren’t we supposed to respect our elders?

Same deal with the imprecatory psalms. We tend to skip ’em and pretend they’re not there. Or we admit they’re there… but just in this one case, we’re gonna borrow the Dispensationalist idea which figures they don’t count anymore: They’re from a past era, but God works all different nowadays. Even though we should know better than to nullify parts of the bible, solely because they make us uncomfortable.

Instead we need to take serious looks at these prayers. Understand where the author was coming from: Her homeland was just conquered by a horde of filthy, violent pagans. Her homeland was burnt to the ground. Possibly her kids and husband killed in front of her; possibly she was raped; now she was getting dragged to Babylon to become a slave. And the Edomites, their cousins who were supposed to be allies, supposed to be fellow worshipers of the LORD God: They rejoiced at Jerusalem’s destruction.

Along the way her captors, for sport, ordered her to sing a few Jerusalem worship songs for their entertainment. Ps 137.3 So how would you feel? More than likely, you’d want to compose a really sarcastic song in response—take advantage of their unfamiliarity with Hebrew—just to get back at them a little.

Well, here’s that song. “God, do vile things to the Edomites. Do nauseating things to the Babylonians.” The smashing-kids-on-rocks bit? Betcha the Babylonians had done it to her. And she wanted life for life, Dt 19.21 which seemed only fair.

Should she have forgiven the Babylonians? Well duh; of course she should have. The rage would eat her up inside if she didn’t. But here, we get to see how she, and the other survivors of Jerusalem, really felt. These were the emotions boiling in her, which she didn’t bother to hide from God. It’d be stupid to try.

That’s the point of these psalms. Total honesty with God. He wants this kind of integrity from us: What’s in our minds, oughta be in our prayers. He knows us inside and out, whether we admit this stuff or not. But if we can’t be honest with God, of all people, our relationship with him is simply gonna suck.

If we’re this kind of angry—if we want our enemies to burn in hell forever and ever—let’s just be honest and say so. Let God minister to our anger. Let him help us get beyond it.

Anger vented.

One thing you’re gonna notice in most of the angry psalms: By the end of it, the psalmist finishes by praising God. The anger’s gone. It was dealt with, and done with.

True of us too. Once we confess our anger to God, and put it in his hands, he tends to dissolve it. We give this emotion to God, and he casts it away. We vent, and he purges us.

But if we don’t do this—if we stamp our rage down, and pray only holy-sounding things which don’t truly reflect our state of mind—it damages us in two different ways. I already mentioned how our relationship with God’s gonna suck, ’cause we’re embracing hypocrisy instead of authenticity. But there’s also the fact that when we hold onto our anger it grows, and corrodes us. Turns into other evil things, like revenge, bitterness, joylessness, hatred, prejudice, argumentativeness, and violence.

We’ve all encountered angry Christians. They’re awful, aren’t they? They do such damage to everyone around them, and drive people away from Jesus. Let’s never unthinkingly become one ourselves. Give these emotions to God, and tell him, “God, I’m furious; help me.” Trust him with it. He can take it, and will. Submit to him, and let him free you.

The transfiguration of Jesus.

Mark 9.2-8, Matthew 17.1-8, Luke 9.28-36.

Jesus’s transfiguration refers to the day he took three of his students up a hill for prayer, and started glowing like a space alien, two Old Testament prophets showed up to chat with him, and the Father Almighty ordered the kids to listen to him—freaking them out, as it would pretty much anyone who saw such a thing.

It’s a story which confuses a lot of Christians. We teach Jesus is totally God, yet at the same time totally human. Problem is, Christians read this story and ditch all the ideas about him being totally human. I’ve even heard one pastor call this story “When Jesus took off his human suit”—as if his humanity is just a costume Jesus could unzip and climb out of, like aliens in certain Doctor Who episodes, or the devil in this one extremely stupid End Times movie.

Theologians call it “God incognito.” It’s not just a Latin word; we have incognito in English too. When you’re incognito, you’re going by a secret identity, like when Batman disguises himself as Bruce Wayne and pretends to be a silly billionaire so criminals won’t bother him in the daytime. (What, you thought Batman was the pretense?) And according to these Christians, Jesus was secretly God: He looked human, acted human, but underneath his human façade is the infinite Almighty God, whose face no one can see and live. Ex 33.20 They don’t believe Jesus really emptied himself to become human Pp 2.6-7 —because they certainly never would. He only feigned weakness, like a hypocrite, and kept his power secret.

Most of the reason they believe this, is because they wrongly equate divinity with power. If God’s no longer almighty, they figure he’s no longer God. They define him by his abilities. Which is a dangerous way to think. If God’s defined by his abilities, then of course we humans should be defined by our abilities… so what if we’re in any way disabled? What if we’re sick, infirm, born with birth defects, developmentally disabled? Well, that’d make us less than human… and make it easier for evil people to justify mistreating or euthanizing us.

God describes himself as almighty, but defines himself by his character. God is who he is, Ex 3.14 which reflects his personality, sinlessness, truth, love, joy, peace, patience, and so forth. His power is an optional trait, one he voluntarily set aside to become one of us. Still God though.

So no, Jesus’s transfiguration isn’t about taking a break from his human act. It means something very different—and its interpretation is based on Jesus’s statement right before the transfiguration story in each of the synoptic gospels:

Mark 9.1 KWL

Jesus told them, “Amen! I promise you some who stood here shouldn’t taste death

till they might see God’s kingdom has come in power.”

 

Matthew 16.28 KWL

“Amen! I promise you some who stood here shouldn’t taste death

till they might see the Son of Man come into his kingdom.”

 

Luke 9.27 KWL

“I truly tell you: Some of those standing here shouldn’t taste death

till they might see God’s kingdom.”

The authors of the gospels deliberately put this statement before the transfiguration story, because that’s what the transfiguration is about: Seeing a glimpse of God’s kingdom in power.

The story.

Mark 9.2-8 KWL

2 Six days later, Jesus took Simon Peter, James, and John,

and brought them up a high hill on their own—and transformed before them.

3 Jesus’s clothes became a brilliant, intense white, like no launderer on earth could whiten.

4 They perceived Elijah and Moses were with them, and they were speaking to Jesus.

5 In reply, Peter told Jesus, “Rabbi, how good it is we’re here!

We can make three tents! One for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah…!”

6 For he didn’t know what else to say; they were terrified.

7 A cloud began to overshadow them, and a voice came from the cloud:

“This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”

8 And unexpectedly, they saw nothing and no one as they looked around,

but Jesus alone with them.

 

Matthew 17.1-8 KWL

1 Six days later, Jesus took Simon Peter, James, and John his brother,

and brought them up a high hill on their own.

2 Jesus transformed before them, and his face shone like the sun.

His clothes became white like a light.

3 And look, they perceived Elijah and Moses were with them, speaking with Jesus.

4 In reply, Peter told Jesus, “Master, how good it is we’re here!

If you want, we’ll make three tents here! One for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah…!”

5 As Peter was speaking, look: A bright cloud overshadowed them, and look: a voice from the cloud saying,

“This is my beloved Son. I rejoice at him. Listen to him.”

6 On hearing this, the students fell on their faces in violent fear.

7 Jesus came and, touching them, said, “Get up. No fear.”

8 Lifting up their eyes, the students saw nothing but him—Jesus alone.

 

Luke 9.28-36 KWL

28 It happened eight days after these sayings,

Jesus took Simon Peter, James, and John, and went up a hill to pray.

29 During his prayer, the form of Jesus’s face became another,

and his clothes became a radiant white.

30 Look, two men were speaking with Jesus—

who were Moses and Elijah, 31 seen in glory,

speaking of Jesus’s departure, which was about to be fulfilled in Jerusalem.

32 Peter and those with him were heavy with sleep, but now they were awake,

and saw Jesus’s glory, and the two men standing with him.

33 It happened as the prophets were leaving Jesus,

Peter told Jesus, “General, how good it is we’re here!

We can make three tents! One for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah!”—not knowing what he said.

34 As Peter said this, a cloud came and overshadowed them.

The students were afraid as they entered the cloud.

35 A voice came from the cloud, saying, “This is my chosen Son. Listen to him.”

36 As the voice came, the students found Jesus alone.

They were silent, and in those days, reported nothing they saw to anyone.

Like most traumatic experiences (i.e. Easter), the stories don’t line up perfectly, and don’t have to. If you insist the bible has no errors, you can easily find commentators with complex explanations as to how these discrepancies aren’t real, but I won’t waste your time: Discrepancies aren’t relevant. This happened, and the gospels all agree about the basics: Jesus took his three best students up a hill, transformed, spoke with Moses and Elijah, and the Father told the students to listen to Jesus.

A revelation of the future.

Now, why’d Jesus show his students this? To show them the kingdom in its power. It’s not Jesus with his humanity burnt off; it’s a flash-forward.

In their near future, Jesus got killed. He warned ’em it was coming—and Simon Peter freaked out at the idea, and Jesus had to call him Satan to snap him out of it. Mk 8.33, Mt 16.23 But after killed, resurrected. Jesus’s previous human body was destroyed, and his new human body—which he still has, and each of us will likewise get a new body once we’re resurrected—sorta looks like our current human bodies, and sorta doesn’t.

Jesus, fr’instance, can glow. When he appeared to John in Revelation, his appearance there sounds a lot like his appearance at his transfiguration.

Revelation 1.12-16 KWL

12 I turned round to see the voice speaking with me,

and in so doing I saw seven gold lampstands;

13 in the middle of the lampstands, one like the Son of Man,

clad in a full-length robe with a gold belt wrapped round his chest.

14 His head and hair: White, like white wool, like snow. His eyes like fiery flames.

15 His feet the same: White bronze, refined in a furnace. His voice: Like the sound of many waters.

16 He had seven stars in his right hand. From his mouth came a sharp, double-edged saber.

His face: Like the sun, shining in its power.

John could identify this vision as Jesus because he’d seen him look like this before. Apparently he keeled over both times. Mt 17.6, Rv 1.17

Next we have Moses and Elijah. Interpreters are a little bit flummoxed by this: We understand Elijah never died, because God had him ascend to heaven in a whirlwind. 2Ki 2.11 Moses however did die, Dt 34.5-7 and if this isn’t a vision of the future, it means Jesus was talking to Moses’s ghost. Which is, as most Christians understand it, a really problematic idea: We’re not to consult the spirits of the dead. Lv 19.31 Even if you believe, as Roman Catholics do, that the saints are already resurrected and alive in heaven, they teach this resurrection of the saints didn’t happen till after Jesus died… which means Moses would still be a ghost. Elijah was still alive, so no problem there; Moses was dead, so big honking problem. Historically Christians have either tried to ignore this problem, or weasel around it by pointing out it’s Jesus, so this must be a special case. But if we’re to truly say Jesus never sinned, 2Co 5.21 we can’t go having him violate his own Law. Not even in “special cases.”

Back in the first century there was a popular Jewish novel called The Assumption of Moses. In it, God resurrected Moses before the End, just like he did Jesus. But Satan claimed Moses for its kingdom, pointing out how Moses had once murdered an Egyptian. Michael, the head angel, claimed Moses for God’s kingdom. Jesus’s brother Jude actually refers to this scene to make a point. Ju 9 And some Christians imagine Jude’s reference means The Assumption of Moses literally happened—Moses was raised from the dead, and was as alive as Elijah. So, problem solved! Except this defies common sense. When I refer to Doctor Who, as I did earlier in this article, I know the Doctor is a fictional character; in no way am I claiming he’s not. And I don’t presume to claim Jude believed Satan and Michael really did fight over Moses, and Moses really was resurrected.

But he will be resurrected. At the End, when we all are. And that’s what Jesus’s students saw: Moses, after the resurrection, in God’s kingdom. Moses of the future. Which is why Elijah and Moses, like Jesus, were also glorified. Lk 9.31 Elijah, though he hadn’t died, will be resurrected while still alive, same as we will be if we’re still alive when Jesus returns. 1Co 15.51-52 That’s why the three of them could talk about what Jesus was about to do in Jerusalem. For them, it had already happened.

Peter’s crazy reaction.

Let’s be kind to Simon Peter. Very few of us would have said anything reasonable when we’re suddenly confronted with a vision which seems to defy reason.

More than likely, Peter thought the End had come. (And about time, too!) He suddenly got to see Jesus come into his kingdom, and be glorified, and famous Old Testament prophets had come to hang out with him. And Peter got to hang out with all of them! What’ll we do first? Well, if you guys are gonna be here a while, we’ll need shelter. Let’s build tents!

Mark points out Peter didn’t know what to say, and Luke said he didn’t know what he was saying. The kids were all scared to death. After all, it looked like the End had come. And while plenty of Christians claim we’re totally ready for Jesus to return—we’re all prayed up, and trust Jesus to get us through it—the reality is when it happens, a lot of people, Christians included, will be soiling our shorts in fear. All this stuff we’ve only been talking about, discussing academically, discussing hypothetically, will be real. It’s one thing to talk about heavenly armies invading the earth. It’s another to find yourself in the middle of one.

Peter often gets mocked here for being foolhardy. I say he was being brave: He assumed whatever was gonna happen, even though he was on the verge of falling over in fear, he was gonna contribute to it. He, at least, was willing to build tents. Good for him. Totally wrong interpretation of what was happening, but right attitude. We need to adopt Peter’s attitude. We might want learn from Peter’s mistake, and sit on our interpretations a bit until God weighs in, but this willingness to help out in whatever God’s doing: Spot on.

But—unless we really are talking about the End—all good things must end, and God decided to end this vision. A cloud shadowed it, God told the students to listen to his Son, and when the cloud lifted there was no one but Jesus. And Jesus told them to be quiet about what they saw.

So. Why’d he show this to them? Encouragement, of course. He wanted them to see what they were working towards. Most of us have been working all our lives in one thing or another, and never yet got to see the fruits of our labor. I’ve worked with kids, and in some cases I got to see them grow up and make something of themselves. And in other cases, they made more of a mess than anything else. But that was years later. At the time I was working with them, it would’ve been nice to have a hint my hard work was gonna pay off. And sometimes, God was kind and gave me such hints. So that’s how I see Jesus’s transfiguration: Rough times were coming, but this would be the conclusion.

So how often did Peter, James, and John cling to this memory in order to get them through the rough times? Don’t know. Hopefully it was often. When God gives me hints, I cling to them a lot. I’ve known other Christians who were, so they claim, given similar hints—but I saw no evidence that they believed or trusted them, for they were still gloomy and pessimistic and joyless. That’s why I wonder whether they really did hear from God. You’d expect the fruit of such a vision to be joy and peace, right? Or perhaps they did hear from him, but don’t know how to trust him, and so their lack of spiritual fruit has turned God’s spiritual blessings into useless trivia. 1Co 13.1-3 How sad for us when that’s us.

Well, Jesus wanted things kept quiet until he was resurrected—until people could see one of the things in this vision had been fulfilled, and that Jesus could shine brighter than the best-bleached clothing. Nope, it’s not a vision of Jesus with his mask off. It’s of Jesus in the glory which he intends to share with his followers.