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.

Jesus’s mom asks his help.

John 2.1-5.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus meets Nathanael.

John 1.43-51.

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

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

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

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

John 1.43-51 KWL

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

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

44 Philip is from Bethsaida,

from the city of Andrew and Peter.

45 Philip finds Nathanael and tells him,

“I found the man

of whom Moses writes about in the Law,

and the Prophets write about:

Jesus bar Joseph,

the man from Nazareth.”

46 Nathanael tells him, “Out of Nazareth?

Can anything good be from there?”

Philip tells him, “Come and see.”

 

47 Jesus sees Nathanael coming to him,

and says about him, “Look!

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

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

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

when you were being under the fig tree,

I saw you.”

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

You’re king of Israel.”

50 In reply Jesus tells him,

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

you trust me?

You’ll see bigger things than this.”

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

You’ll see the sky has opened up,

and God’s angels are going up and coming down

upon the Son of Man.”

The devil used to lead heavenly worship?

Every time I’ve heard this myth, it’s come from either a music pastor, a worship leader, or a musician. You can probably guess why. If not, I’ll spell it out for you later.

It’s part of the myth that Satan used to be someone important in heaven; in fact it was previously named Lucifer, the greatest of all angels, if not the head angel. Lucifer was the prettiest and most sparkly of all angels. Better and smarter and mightier than every angel there was, and God bestowed upon it power and authority and responsibilities and blessings… but it got full of itself, rebelled, and fell.

I should point out only the rebelled-and-fell part of the story comes from bible, Rv 12.7-9 and the reason the devil did so is rather simple: Jesus came to earth to save and rule it, and the devil doesn’t like this plan at all. Rv 12.1-6 But it was defeated by the actual mightiest angel, Michael.

If the story sounds like Satan’s fudging its résumé, of course it is. Satan’s a dirty liar, remember? Jn 8.44 Problem is, Christians have fallen for it, and still share it with one another. Still teach it to newbies. We think it’s true. We forget we’re not to trust the devil; even when it tells the truth, there’s deception involved, ’cause it’s trying to lead us to destruction. That’s what it does.

Anyway. Part of this greatest-of-all-angels idea leads Christian musicians to this particular myth: What’s the very most important job in heaven? Why, worshiping God of course. So Satan did that for a living. It led worship. It led the heavenly choir.

Jesus meets Simon Peter.

John 1.40-42.

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

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

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

John 1.40-42 KWL

40 Andrew, brother of Simon Peter,

is one of the two students heeding John the baptist

and following Jesus.

41 This student first finds his own brother Simon,

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

42 Andrew brings Simon to Jesus.

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

You’ll be called Kifa” (i.e. Peter).

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

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

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

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

St. Valentine’s Day.

As you should know, saints days are usually the day a saint died.

In Roman Catholic thinking, this’d be the day the Christian actually became a saint, ’cause now there’s no chance whatsoever of them ever quitting Jesus—why would you, now that you’ve been with him in heaven?—so their sainthood is absolutely a done deal. Whereas those of us on earth: Meh. You’re Christian now; we don’t yet know how well you’ll hold up when the poo-poo really hits the fan. ’Cause some of those people back in Roman Empire times who could’ve been martyred saints, as soon as the Romans even threatened to smack ’em around a little, they quickly denounced Jesus and promised to worship the Emperor. So much for their sainthood.

So… how well might you hold up under persecution? Heck, in a country where Christians don’t even get persecuted (except in their own minds), how well might you hold up even when you’re simply suffering? ’Cause plenty of people seem to have a rather low breaking point. Parents die?—even though everybody’s parents die?—quit Jesus. Not cured of whatever ailment you really wanna be cured of?—quit Jesus. Don’t get that job you were convinced God was gonna grant you?—quit Jesus. One of the pastors quietly suggested next Sunday you might experiment with underarm deodorant?—quit Jesus. If these triggers are starting to sound stupid… well, some people get triggered by the pettiest things. “Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me” Mt 16.24 doesn’t appeal to a culture which denies itself nothing.

But I digress, ’cause today I’m gonna write about the martyr St. Valentine.

Of course the tricky part is which one. There have been many Christians named Valentinus, and some of them lived and died for Jesus, and back in antiquity some bishop decided to give one of them his very own feast day. In the west, bishop Gelasius 1 of Rome fixed it on 14 February. But which Valentinus is this day about? Well, we don’t know.

Well we don’t. This is one of those facts that’s been lost in antiquity. We don’t know anything about St. Valentine. Jesus does, ’cause Valentinus is one of his. That, I suppose, is what counts most.

We know of five ancient Christian martyrs with the name Valentinus. Three in particular, but really any of the five—or in fact none of them—could be the guy with the feast day. There’s no saying for certain. I don’t care which historian you’ve read who claims, “Oh it’s definitely this Valentinus”—it’s not definite at all. We don’t know. Unless some archaeologist finally gets hold of a document in which some bishop first proclaims a St. Valentine’s Day, we’re not gonna know. Some things in the universe are just gonna remain unknowns. Deal with it.

The five Valentinuses are:

1. A presbyter who served in Rome, buried on the Flaminian Way in the late 200s. Orthodox Christians observe his feast day on 6 July.
2. A bishop of Interamna (now Terni, in central Italy), killed during a trip to Rome in the year 269. The church of Terni claims this Valentinus died on 14 February, and he’s the St. Valentine… but of course they would. Orthodox Christians observe his feast day on 30 July.
3. A member of a missionary team to north Africa (today’s Tunisia, Algeria, and Libya), who were all killed at once, and that’s everything we know about him.
4. A bishop of Passau, who later became a hermit in northern Italy, and died in 475.
5. A bishop of Genoa, who died in 295.

St. Valentine’s Day was part of the official Roman calendar till 1955, when Pope Pius 12 decided to consolidate a bunch of saints. Of course by then it was already part of popular culture. Medieval Christians had decided St. Valentine, whoever he was, was the patron saint of romantic love, and invented a few legends about how he secretly performed Christian weddings for couples, enraging the emperor, who had him killed for that, not for Jesus. Greeting card manufacturers of course spread the story he used to cut heart-shaped pieces of parchment and give them to other persecuted Christians to remind them of God’s love; which is also likely bogus, but it gives schoolchildren something nice to write about in their St. Valentine’s Day essays.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 Antichrist.

Whenever I write about antichrists, I of course mean people who are anti-Christ. They’re not just pagans who apathetically want nothing to do with Christ Jesus if they can help it; these folks actively oppose Christ and fight Christianity.

But when I write about antichrists, your average Evangelical gets confused. Because antichrist is a word they’re very familiar with… but they regularly define it wrong. They don’t mean just any individual who’s anti-Christ. They mean the Beast.

Θηρίον/Thiríon, “animal” or “beast,” is the word the apostle John used to describe various animals in the visions Jesus gave him in Revelation. There are multiple thiría in his visions, same as there are weird animals in Daniel and other biblical apocalypses. None of them are literal animals; they only represent a literal being. Like the lamb with seven horns and seven eyes who looks like he’s been killed. Rv 5.6 That’s Jesus, who doesn’t literally have seven horns and eyes in his heavenly form; he’s been human since 7BC. Likewise this Beast isn’t literally as John described him below. (My translation. The dragon, by the way, is Satan. Rv 12.9)

Revelation 13.1-10 KWL

1I see a Beast rising up from the sea,

which has 10 horns and seven heads,

and on its horns, 10 diadems;

and on its heads, slanderous names.

2The Beast I see is like a panther;

its feet like a bear’s,

its mouth like a lion’s mouth.

The dragon gives it its power,

its throne, and great ability.

3One of the Beast’s heads is as if maimed to death,

and its deadly wound is cured.

The whole world admires the Beast,

4and worships the dragon which gives its ability to the Beast,

and worships the Beast, saying,

“Is anyone like the Beast?”

and “Is anyone able to fight it?”

5A mouth is given to the Beast

to speak great and slanderous things,

and it’s given power to do things

for 42 months.

6The Beast opens its mouth to slander God,

to slander his name and his tabernacle

—the one in heaven he encamps in—

7and the Beast is allowed

to make war with the saints and conquer us.

It’s given ability over every tribe,

people, language, and ethnicity.

8Everyone who dwells on earth will worship it—

everyone whose name wasn’t written

when the world was founded

in the life-book of the Lamb who was slain.

9If one has an ear, hear:

10If one is going into captivity,

they’re going into captivity.

If one is going to be stabbed to death,

they’re getting stabbed to death.

So should be the endurance and trust of the saints.

John then describes a Second Beast which gets everyone to worship both this first Beast, and an εἰκόνα/eikóna, “ikon,” of the first Beast; Rv 13.13-15 and forbids trade among everyone who isn’t personally marked with the Beast’s name or number. Rv 13.16-17 And so many people are fixated on the number, 666, I gave it its own article.

Jesus’s first two students.

John 1.35-39.

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

John 1.35-37 KWL

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

were standing in that place again.

36 Looking at Jesus walking by,

John said, “Look, God’s lamb!”

37 John’s two students heed what he says,

and follow Jesus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John the baptist’s testimony about Jesus.

John 1.29-37.

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

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

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

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

John 1.29-37 KWL

29The next day John sees Jesus coming to him,

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

30This is the one of whom I say,

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

because he’s before me.’ Jn 1.15

31And I hadn’t known it was him!

But I come baptizing in water for this reason:

So that he might be revealed to Israel.”

32John gives witness, saying this:

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

and he had remained on Jesus.

33And I hadn’t known it was him!

But the one who sends me to baptize in water,

that person tells me,

‘Upon whomever you¹ might see the Spirit descend

and remain upon him,

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

34And I had seen this,

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

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

were standing in that place again.

36Looking at Jesus walking by,

John said, “Look, God’s lamb!”

37John’s two students heed what he says,

and follow Jesus.

Bad Christian or non-Christian?

Yep, it’s time to play everybody’s least-favorite game, “Bad Christian or non-Christian?”—the game in which we’re trying to discern whether or not a person’s saved.

I say “least-favorite” because I’ve been rebuked multiple times for playing this game. How dare I try to discern whether someone’s Christian or not. How dare I not take their word for it—if they call themselves Christian, why, that’s what they are!

…Well, unless they’re not Evangelical. Unless they’re Roman Catholic, or Orthodox, or Mormon, or mainliner. Unless they’re members of the opposition party. Unless they’re woke. Unless they’re gay. Unless they’ve trespassed in a way that, to these people’s minds, undermines or undoes their salvation.

…Yeah, the people who rebuke me are nearly always playing “Bad Christian or non-Christian?” themselves. The only difference between them and me: Different metrics. They base it on whether these people claim to be a member of our religious tribe, whether they’ve recited the sinner’s prayer, and whether they’ve otherwise not trespassed against their personal peeves.

Me, I base it on the two requirements Jesus laid out in his Sermon on the Mount: Fruit and obedience.

Matthew 7.15-23 NET

15“Watch out for false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are voracious wolves. 16 You will recognize them by their fruit. Grapes are not gathered from thorns or figs from thistles, are they? 17 In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. 18 A good tree is not able to bear bad fruit, nor a bad tree to bear good fruit. 19 Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 20 So then, you will recognize them by their fruit.

21 “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter into the kingdom of heaven—only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. 22 On that day, many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, didn’t we prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many powerful deeds in your name?’ 23 Then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you. Go away from me, you lawbreakers!’ ”

Are they at the very least trying to exhibit the Spirit’s fruit—trying to be more gracious, compassionate, empathetic, kind, patient, devout, peacemaking, humble? Are they at the very least trying to follow Jesus, not in a way which conforms to the crowd, but every once in a while opposes the crowd, because they recognize they have to abide by Christ Jesus’s higher standard?

I mean, if they’re not even trying—if instead they’re reveling in being dicks—we’re not just dealing with a bad Christian, a person who’s following Jesus but doing a poor job of it. We’re dealing with someone who knows Jesus teaches otherwise, but doesn’t give a rip; it’s more fun, and gets ’em more praise, to be evil. Jesus is in no way their Lord. They’re not Christian. They quit.

“All scripture is God-breathed and useful for…”

2 Timothy 3.16.

In pretty much every sermon and lesson I’ve heard about why we have a bible, and what the bible is for, preachers and teachers quote this verse. Which I’m gonna quote in the New International Version, because of the unique and very popular way they translate it.

2 Timothy 3.16-17 NIV

16 All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, 17 so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

The NIV describes the scriptures as God-breathed, and people really like describing it that way. It’s a very literal, perhaps too literal, translation of the word θεόπνευστος/theónefstos, “divinely inspired”—or as the KJV puts it, “by inspiration of God.” But the reason Christians like quoting this part, is to remind us the Holy Spirit inspired the books of the bible, so they’re not just any books. God’s behind them.

And sometimes these folks take this idea too far, and claim God’s in them, and they’re worthy of the same reverence God is. That’s idolatry, so let’s not go there. Don’t go replacing the Holy Spirit with the Holy Bible, like too many cessationists do. The Spirit doesn’t imbue the bible with divine powers, so all we now need to do is recite its verses like magic incantations and it’ll do stuff. That’s not its purpose. Reject those teachers who tell you otherwise.

But as for what its purpose actually is—well that’s the other reason people quote 1 Timothy 3.16. It’s so they can list these four things:

• TEACHING (Greek διδασκαλίαν/didaskalían, “instruction”; KJV “doctrine”). Informing Christians what we should know about God, and how to follow Jesus.
• REBUKING (ἐλεγμόν/elegmón; in the Textus Receptus ἔλεγχον/élenhon; both mean “disprove, reprimand, convince otherwise”). Challenging Christians who get God wrong, go too far, or sin.
• CORRECTING (ἐπανόρθωσιν/epanórthosin, “correcting.”) Correcting Christians who lose focus, get off track, or forget what’s important. “Rebuking” deals with Christians who are seriously wrong; “correcting” with Christians who are just a bit off course.
• TRAINING IN RIGHTEOUSNESS (παιδείαν τὴν ἐν δικαιοσύνῃ/pedeían tin en dikeosýni, “training about the right [way]”). Not just classroom instruction, but hands-on demonstration about how to fairly and morally treat others and behave.

They won’t always interpret these words the same way I have. I’ve been to churches where the main focus is correction. You don’t know the proper bible doctrines?—well, here they are; learn ’em and be orthodox like us. And when people object to our doctrines, learn some Christian apologetics so you can argue with them and win. As for behavior… well, don’t worry about actively following Jesus, for somehow that’s legalism; just don’t sin, for somehow that’s not.

But okay, those four things sound like really good reasons to study a bible. Thing is, they’re missing the most important one. Because they’re not reading the bible in context. You knew I was gonna get to context eventually, right?

God’s “word for the year” for you?

Every year, all sorts of people decide what’s the word for this year.

No I’m not talking about dictionary publishers. They pick the word for the year, at the end of the year. Usually it’s a word that’s been in the zeitgeist… or a word they hope to put in the zeitgeist for a few moments, either to encourage people, or warn ’em. It’s useful, free publicity for dictionary publishers.

Nope. It’s a word—one word—which is meant to be the theme of this new year.

If the word for the year is “Beginnings” or “Proceed!” or “Starting” or “Launch”—or the conveniently biblical-sounding “Genesis”—it suggests the theme for the year is maybe we’ll begin something new. Or maybe stop doing something we shouldn’t, and start over.

If the word for the year is “Dynamic” or “Powerful” or “Mighty” or “Forceful,” maybe we’ll try something we consider dynamic. Or try to be dynamic. Or invest in utility companies. However you choose to interpret “Dynamic” or the other potential words for the year; however you choose to implement it in your life.

Y’might be thinking, “Oh yeah; my church does that every year. It's a Christian thing, right?” Actually it’s not. It’s a human thing. Plenty of people do it! It’s meant to inspire themselves, and others, to be better people. It’s like a new-year resolution. It’s self-improvement. Nothing wrong with self-improvement!

What Christians have done, of course, is Christianize it. How might we take this optimistic self-improvement practice, and make it nice and Jesusy?

Hence certain Christian leaders come up with a word for the year, based on what they see as something we Christians oughta work on. Or based on something they oughta work on, and since they’re struggling with it, maybe they’re not alone; maybe everybody oughta struggle with it; hey, we can struggle together! Misery loves company. Or, more optimistically, maybe we can support one another. Yeah, that sounds better.

In continuationist churches, in which the Christian leaders strive to hear God, frequently they try to get God in on this. “Hey God, what’s your word for the year?” Surely God knows the best word for the year. Plus it’ll save us all the trouble of actually getting to know the people of our church, and wisely discern what word they’d need. Nah; let’s just get a shortcut from God. We might pick the wrong word, but he’ll always pick the right one.

And maybe, certain Christians figure, just maybe this word for the year will be a prophetic word. By “prophetic” they don’t necessarily mean what prophecy properly means, i.e. God telling us stuff through one of his kids, and confirming it through more of his kids. Nope; they mean predictive—this’ll be a word which tells us our future. If the word for the year is “Prosperity,” it means God’ll make us prosperous! And if the word for the year is “Famine”… well, y’notice somehow it’s never “Famine.” Hm. Wonder why that is?

Now look; I’m not knocking words for the year. Go ahead and pick yourself one. Feel free to go along with your church’s word for the year, if they have one; or bible verse for the year—so long that you remember, unlike some random word, we don’t get to spin a bible verse however we please; it’s got a context.

But I do take issue with anyone who claims God’s behind any particular word of the year. Because words for the year are wildly open for interpretation. But God’s messages are not. He doesn’t do vague. Humans do vague. Fake prophets do vague. Devils do vague. But God doesn’t bother to give us a single word… without giving us a whole paragraph explaining just what that single word means.

How feedback works around here.

As you might’ve noticed, TXAB (short for “The Christ Almighty Blog,” y’know) doesn’t have a comment section. Used to, but I got a lot of trolls and grew tired of moderating it. If you’ve ever bothered to read the comments on YouTube videos, and I don’t recommend it, you’ll notice a lot of them are stupid and awful, particularly under videos which express unpopular opinions. My opinions are just as unpopular, apparently. So away they go.

This is far from the first site to do this. In the early days of the World Wide Web, lots of news sites and blogs permitted comments. The hope was people would moderate themselves, be civil, and not need someone to police them. The reality was people did no such thing, especially since the internet permits you to be anonymous. (Well, anonymous to everyone but hackers, who are scary good at finding out who you are with very little effort.) And even with websites which require you to use your true name, like Facebook, people are just vile. So websites started moderating the comments… until it became more trouble than it’s worth.

On my blogs I moderated the comments myself. It took way more time than I wanted, and I was deleting and banning most of the comments and commenters. No, not because I disagreed with them; it was for godless and fruitless behavior. That was my only real rule for moderation: Behave yourself! When they couldn’t do that, down came the banhammer.

A decade ago, right about the time I started TXAB, I switched to Disqus for my comments. They claimed they’d moderate people for me. Largely they did! So I have no trouble recommending Disqus to other bloggers. But Disqus really just moderates for harassing or profane behavior, and my standards are a bit higher.

And of course those I banned, complained. Their usual argument was that this (the United States, anyway; TXAB’s readers are from everywhere) is a free country, and how dare I censor them; don’t I realize they have the First Amendment right to express themselves freely? I’m a journalist; of course I do. But they’re quite unaware the First Amendment is about government censorship, not individual nor corporate censorship. Social media companies, television networks, workplaces, churches, and parents can ban all sorts of speech if they so choose. And if you don’t like it, you can leave. But government can’t ban speech—especially when we’re speaking out against government abuse and corruption! Christian nationalists regularly don’t seem to understand this, and try to get government to censor smut or other pagan activity on the grounds that all our founding fathers were somehow devout Evangelicals who would never interpret the First Amendment like the courts do. Clearly they’ve never read Benjamin Franklin’s naughtier writings. But I digress.

Anywho, no more comments means no more bans. No more rude statements for me to delete; no more hurt feelings because I dared to delete what other people had toiled over; no more trolls. No more positive comments either, but I wasn’t receiving all that many of them anyway.

Well, I do receive ’em through email. Sometimes. And like I said, there’s still email.

John the baptist’s ministry, in 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯.

John 1.6-8, 15, 19-28.

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

Luke 3.7-9 Message

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

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

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

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

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

John 1.19-28 KWL

19And this is John’s testimony,

when the Judeans of Jerusalem

send priests and Levites out to him

so they could ask him, “Who are you¹?”

20John is in agreement with them,

and does not resist them,

and agrees with them:

“I’m not Messiah.”

21They ask John, “So… what, are you¹ Elijah?”

He says, “I’m not.”

“Are you¹ the Prophet?”

He answers, “No.”

22So they say, “Who are you¹?—

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

What do you¹ say about yourself¹?”

23John is saying, “I’m

‘a voice crying out in the wilderness:

Straighten the Master’s path!’ Is 40.3

like the prophet Isaiah said.”

24Those who were sent are from the Pharisees,

25and are questioning John,

and are telling him, “So why do you¹ baptize,

if you’re¹ not Messiah nor Elijah nor the Prophet?”

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

In your² midst, one has stood among you².

You’ve² not known him.

27{He’s} the one coming after me,

{who has got in front of me}.

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

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

where John is baptizing.

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