The fivefold ministry. Or is it fourfold? Sevenfold?

FIVEFOLD MINISTRY 'faɪv.foʊld 'mɪn.ɪs.tri noun. A form of church leadership in which an individual congregation is led by five leaders, with duties corresponding to the five gifts Christ granted to build up his body. Ep 4.11

Christians have come up with a number of different ways to run Christ Jesus’s chruches. Initially the church was led by the Twelve, although that proved impractical as it grew, and as the Twelve spread out to other provinces and countries, or died off. The model we see in Paul’s pastoral letters suggests they ultimately borrowed the setup of Pharisee synagogues: An ἐπίσκοπος/epískopos, “supervisor” (which evolved into the English word “bishop”) who oversees the various spiritually mature Christians put in charge of all the other duties and ministries. Among the Orthodox and Catholic churches this evolved into archbishops and priests, but you’ll likewise see it in some Protestant churches which have pastors and presbyters.

But other Protestant churches have experimented with all sorts of leadership models. I was once a member of a church with a pastoral team: Five pastors who shared the job, took turns preaching the sermons, and handling various duties. I’ve been part of a church which claimed to have no leadership, and that they were entirely led by the Holy Spirit. (In practice, certain folks just happened to “hear the Spirit” way more than others, and wound up leading by default.) I’ve also been in congregationalist churches, which are basically run by direct democracy: The church members meet every month, and vote on every item of business. In meetings which can go on for hours.

Are those leadership models in the bible? Nah. Is that a problem? Not really. Because regardless of which leadership setup you choose, the important factor which makes it work is the people and leaders follow Jesus. If they do, the leadership setup actually doesn’t matter, because Jesus is gonna rule. And if they don’t, it doesn’t matter how “biblical” your setup is: The church is always gonna go wrong. Guaranteed.

At some other point I’ll list all the different models. But today I’m obviously gonna rant write about the fivefold ministry model.

It’s a relatively new leadership structure. Invented in the 1970s, and adopted by a lot of churches in the charismatic “apostolic movement.” These church are meant to be run by either five elders, or five teams of elders. (Since each of these teams tends to have a supervisor in charge of it… functionally it’s still five elders.) And each of these elders holds a different office, or has different job duties, which correspond to one of Christ Jesus’s five ministry gifts, listed by Paul in Ephesians.

Ephesians 4.11-12 KJV

11And [Christ] gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; 12for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ: 13till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ:

In short, the five leaders of a fivefold church are designated as an apostle, a prophet, an evangelist, a pastor, and a teacher.

Now. Historically Christians haven’t taught these are five jobs, but five gifts. They’re different abilities to minister. Different aptitudes. I have a knack for teaching; another’s gonna have a knack for evangelism. Another for prophecy, another for pastoral care.

But, I should point out, while I have a knack for teaching, I sometimes do all the other things. Because I’ve been in Christian leadership long enough to know how to do all of ’em. I can evangelize. I can prophesy. I can pastor. I can even function as an apostle if the Holy Spirit gives me a certain task to accomplish.

’Cause in practice, the Holy Spirit grants all these gifts to various Christian leaders on an ad hoc basis. Not just one and only one gift to one person. Jesus is an obvious example of someone who simultaneously had all five gifts:

• APOSTLE: Jesus was sent by God. He 3.1
• PROPHET: Jesus shares God’s word. Mt 21.11
• EVANGELIST: Jesus shares the good news of his kingdom. Mk 1.14
• PASTOR: Jesus is our good shepherd, Jn 10.11 our leader.
• TEACHER: Jesus is a rabbi, Jn 13.13 and our only rabbi. Mt 23.10

“Well of course Jesus could do ’em all,” various Christians reply, ”because he’s Jesus!” Yep, that’s everybody’s favorite excuse for not doing as Jesus does: He’s exceptional. And to be fair, he is. But not in this are—’cause loads of his apostles also simultaneously had all five gifts. You see ’em in Peter, John, Philip, Paul, James; and you’ll notice most churches regularly expect their head pastor to have these abilities whenever necessary. Apostles in that God called ’em into ministry. Prophets in that they can recognize God’s voice and authoritatively talk about God’s will. Evangelists ’cause they lead people to Jesus. Pastors ’cause they shepherd the people of their churches. And teachers ’cause they gotta teach us everything Jesus taught.

Fivefold ministry advocates point out this is an awful lot of work to put upon just one person. They’re not wrong! It’s why the mature Christians of a church need to step up and help their pastor. But the fivefold folks claim the list in Ephesians is a jobs list: The Holy Spirit divvied up these jobs, just like he scattered his supernatural gifts among different Christians. 1Co 12.7 Therefore each church shouldn’t only have a pastor in charge, but have five leaders. A pastor of course. And also an apostle, prophet, evangelist, and teacher.

The self-anointed prophet.

This last weekend I heard someone talk about God’s “anointed prophets,” as if that’s actually a thing from the bible. In fact it’s not.

How God makes prophets is ridiculously simple: He starts talking to someone. Might be Samuel ben Elkanah.

1 Samuel 3.6-11 NLT

6Then the LORD called out again, “Samuel!”

Again Samuel got up and went to Eli. “Here I am. Did you call me?”

“I didn’t call you, my son,” Eli said. “Go back to bed.”

7Samuel did not yet know the LORD because he had never had a message from the LORD before. 8So the LORD called a third time, and once more Samuel got up and went to Eli. “Here I am. Did you call me?”

Then Eli realized it was the LORD who was calling the boy. 9 So he said to Samuel, “Go and lie down again, and if someone calls again, say, ‘Speak, LORD, your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went back to bed.

10And the LORD came and called as before, “Samuel! Samuel!”

And Samuel replied, “Speak, your servant is listening.”

11Then the LORD said to Samuel, “I am about to do a shocking thing in Israel.”

Might be Jeremiah ben Hilkiah.

Jeremiah 1.4-10 NLT

4The LORD gave me this message:

5“I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb.

Before you were born I set you apart

and appointed you as my prophet to the nations.”

6“O Sovereign LORD,” I said, “I can’t speak for you! I’m too young!”

7 The LORD replied, “Don’t say, ‘I’m too young,’ for you must go wherever I send you and say whatever I tell you. 8And don’t be afraid of the people, for I will be with you and will protect you. I, the LORD, have spoken!” 9Then the LORD reached out and touched my mouth and said,

“Look, I have put my words in your mouth!

10Today I appoint you to stand up

against nations and kingdoms.

Some you must uproot and tear down,

destroy and overthrow.

Others you must build up

and plant.”

Might be Ezekiel ben Buzi.

Ezekiel 1.28 - 2.5 NLT

28All around him was a glowing halo, like a rainbow shining in the clouds on a rainy day. This is what the glory of the LORD looked like to me. When I saw it, I fell face down on the ground, and I heard someone’s voice speaking to me.

1“Stand up, son of man,” said the voice. “I want to speak with you.” 2The Spirit came into me as he spoke, and he set me on my feet. I listened carefully to his words. 3“Son of man,” he said, “I am sending you to the nation of Israel, a rebellious nation that has rebelled against me. They and their ancestors have been rebelling against me to this very day. 4They are a stubborn and hard-hearted people. But I am sending you to say to them, ‘This is what the Sovereign LORD says!’ 5And whether they listen or refuse to listen—for remember, they are rebels—at least they will know they have had a prophet among them.”

But in none of these instances do we see God anoint his prophets. He commissions them to speak in his name, tells them what he wants people to hear, and off they go.

Now yeah, you’re gonna hear Christians, and prophets who want people to consider them authority figures, talk about how God’s prophets have “the anointing.” And they’re gonna try to define lots things as anointing. So let’s first get that definition right, shall we? Anointing is when you literally pour oil over someone’s head. Ancient Israelis did that to people to indicate God chose ’em to lead. Not prophesy; lead. Anyone can prophesy. Not everyone can lead.

You’re also gonna see Christians point to Elisha, ’cause the LORD instructed his prophet Elijah to anoint him—

1 Kings 19.16 NLT

“Then anoint Jehu grandson of Nimshi to be king of Israel, and anoint Elisha son of Shaphat from the town of Abel-meholah to replace you as my prophet.”

—and claim, “There! Right there! There’s an anointed prophet!” But Elisha’s the only anointed prophet in bible. (Unless you count King David ben Jesse, who was indeed a prophet Ac 2.30 —he did hear from God! But David was anointed to be king, not prophet.) And here’s the thing about Elisha: Elijah, his predecessor, wasn’t only a prophet, but was also the leader of the בְנֵֽי־הַנְּבִיאִ֥ים/vnéi haneviím, the “sons of the prophets,” 2Ki 2.15 a prophecy guild. He anointed Elisha to lead that guild. Not to become a prophet—for Elisha was already a prophet.

Go ahead. Poke around the bible for the prophets’ first God-experiences. Some will be dramatic, like Ezekiel’s vision. Some won’t be. Christians like to point to when Isaiah saw the LORD in temple, with the seraphs and burning coal and “Holy holy holy!” and all that, Is 6.1-13 and claim the burning coal is Isaiah’s “anointing.” But that vision is in the sixth chapter of the book of Isaiah. There are five chapters before it! Five chapters of prophecies before it. And in none of them does Isaiah get anointed to become a prophet. He just starts prophesying. Because God talked to him, and he shared what he heard.

I’m not knocking profound experiences. They’re awesome. But God doesn’t need to start with them, and usually doesn’t. More often it’s like when he first talked to Samuel. Nobody gets “anointed.” Commissioned, yes. That’s all.

Anointing, like I said, is for leadership. God still picks leaders, and has us recognize his choices; and when we do that, typically we lay hands on them and pray for them, and somebody puts oil on ’em. Sometimes it’s a dab on their forehead; sometimes we dump a whole bottle or horn of it all over ’em, like the ancient Israelis did with their kings. But again, that’s leaders. Not prophets.

And if a leader prophesies—and they can; God can talk to them same as he talks to everyone—okay then we’re actually talking about an anointed prophet. But their anointing for leadership, and their ability as prophet, are actually two different things. Two separate things. The anointing doesn’t make ’em a greater prophet, and the prophecy doesn’t make ’em a better leader. And same as every prophet, we gotta confirm these prophecies, and not foolishly assume their anointing has made ’em an infallible prophet.

So when someone starts calling themselves one of God’s anointed prophets, what we’ve got here is someone who’s either honestly unaware of how God selects prophets… or is trying to pull a fast one, and claim leadership, or demand our obedience, solely because they claim they heard God. But if they’re not already in leadership, that’s an illegitimate claim. That’s like Samuel telling Eli, “I heard God, so you should make me co-head priest.” Or Jeremiah telling King Josiah ben Amon, “I hear God, so you should make me co-king.” It’s rubbish, and if these prophets seriously expect us to believe this and catapult them into leadership, beware.

The text of Titus.

My translation of Titus.

No, not so I can have my own spin on it, or an “authoritative text” to work from; that’s not how translation works. I translate so I can study the original text in greater depth. If you translate so you can frame it to suit yourself, stop it.

Feel free to read it in other translations. Compare them to one another so you can see the translators’ consensus—and that gives you a better idea of what John meant, than simply reading one “best” translation. Then follow John as he follows Jesus; not us translators.

The International Critical Commentary.

My bible software of choice is Accordance. I have a lot of their modules, and of course they wouldn’t mind at all if I bought more. So most days a week, they send me an email informing me of their sales. They have individual books, and of course full sets of bible commentaries.

Yes, I’ve bought a few, and they’re pricey. And sometimes when I tell people I’ve bought ’em, they’re stunned. “You spent that on a bible commentary? You know you can get Matthew Henry’s commentary for $3.”

Pfff, $10? I could get it for free.

I mean, I already have it. Decades ago (yes, it’s been multiple decades now) I bought a CD full of public-domain bibles and Christian literature, and of course Henry’s commentary is in there too. Plus a few other multi-volume bible commentaries.

I don’t look at ’em much, because those commentaries—like Henry’s, and many of the other free commentaries on the internet—are devotional in nature. That is, the commentator read some bible, wrote down his thoughts about ’em, and that’s what you have. Some of them are clever and insightful. Some are most definitely not clever and insightful; they’re the sort of regurgitated pop-culture junk you can find in Facebook posts. They’re not worth any money you might spend on ’em, so hopefully you’ve spent none!

What I actually want in a bible commentary—which is why, over the years, I’ve paid a bunch of money for such commentaries—is ancient history. Study of the ancient languages. Archeological evidence, if you have any. Maybe a thoughtful discussion on the multiple ways Christians have viewed this particular scripture over the years, just so I can see where the points of debate are… and maybe hear a view I’ve not heard before in dozens of sermons.

Free commentaries like that are mighty hard to come by, but here’s one: The International Critical Commentary. “International” in that it was written by Americans, Brits, and Canadians, and “critical” in that the authors compare different ancient manuscripts of the bible in order to get the best reading of the text.

The ICC is still being published by T&T Clark, but the older editions of the commentary are out of copyright, so they’ve been scanned and posted on the internet by the good folks at Google Books and Internet Archive. I’ve listed below what I can find. Internet Archive has multiple scans of these books, so if you don’t like the one I’ve linked to, find another! Google Books, on the other hand, will remove books if a publisher pushes ’em hard enough—even if books are in the public domain. (Just goes to show you the difference between a non-profit which stands up for something, and a for-profit which sometimes really doesn’t.)

Anywho, in some of the books you’ll find a list of all the books of the bible, and wonder why on earth I don’t have that volume (it’s the one you wanted to look at most, right?) and it’s because the guys who were supposed to write that book, ultimately didn’t. Optimistic advertising, I guess.

God knows the plans he has for you.

Jeremiah 29.11.

Jeremiah 29.11 NIV

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Whenever English-speaking Christians quote this verse, I tend to hear the New International Version translation most often. Oddly, not the been-around-way-longer King James:

Jeremiah 29.11 KJV

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

I suspect it’s ’cause the words “prosper” and “hope” and “future” are in the NIV, so it comes across as way more optimistic and inspiring. It’s why Christians quote it like crazy. Like the evangelists tell us, “God has a wonderful plan for your life,” and this verse brilliantly affirms it: God thinks warm, wonderful things about us. He has a good, fine plan, with a good future.

Some of us figure this future is heaven, and some of us figure it’s all the worldly success the American Dream can offer. But, y’know, Christianized. This way we’re comfortably wealthy, but our comfort and wealth somehow hasn’t turned us into out-of-touch, self-entitled jerks. Instead we’re “good stewards” of that wealth… but I gotta tell ya, in practice stewardship tends to look a little out-of-touch, and tends to hoard wealth on the basis of “God gave these riches to me, not the needy, so I must deserve it more than they.” But I digress.

Like many out-of-context scriptures, neither the NIV nor KJV variants are a mistranslation. I translated it myself, and my own results aren’t far different from the NIV and KJV. (Nor should it be.)

Jeremiah 29.11 KWL

“Because I know the intentions I plan over you,” the LORD states.

“Intentions of peace, not evil.

To give you a proper ending, and hope.”

The verse is about what God has in store for his people. He plans good, not evil. (Especially not secret, behind-the-scenes evil stuff, like natural disasters and wars; whereas in public he maintains moral superiority. I know certain Christians claim otherwise, but God’s no hypocrite.) God wants his people to have good lives. Not bad.

Thing is: The people God addressed in this prophecy are the Hebrews of southern Israel, the tribes which the writers of the Old Testament collectively call “Judah,” and the writers of the New Testament call “Judea.” These’d be the tribes of Judah, Benjamin, and Simeon; plus Levites and various members of other tribes who lived in the cities. Collectively, “Jews.”

Jeremiah prophesied it between the years 586 and 581BCE, after King Jeconiah, his family and court, and Jerusalem’s officials had been dragged to Babylon as captives of Nebuchadnezzar’s troops. Jr 29.2 In fact this prophecy was a message to these very captives. Not necessarily to all the Jews in the sixth century before the Christian Era. And certainly not 21st-century gentiles. Nor even all us Christians.

But we’d sure like it to be us, wouldn’t we? And that’s why we claim it for ourselves. We justify it by saying, “God doesn’t change Ml 3.6 —his attitude towards all people, whether ancient Hebrews or present-day Christians, oughta be this very same gracious-sounding offer of peace and safety. So let’s take him up on it!

Oh, and let’s post this verse on our walls someplace. Underneath some nice Thomas Kinkade paintings of a house lit up as if by a kitchen fire. Or something otherwise inspirational. Let’s recite it to ourselves whenever we’re feeling down, or overwhelmed, or like we’ve lost one of the many minor battles in life. God’s working all things together for our good, right? Ro 8.28 His plans for us are prosperity, peace, and hope, right?

Last words to Titus.

Titus 3.12-15.

Paul wraps up his letter to Titus with the usual stuff you might find in any personal correspondence; plans to meet, people you oughta bring along, friends who say hi, and salutations. Goes like this.

Titus 3.12-15 KWL

12I might send either Artemas or Tychicus to you;¹

when I do, be quick to come to me in Nikópolis,

for I decided to winter there.

13Quickly bring Zenas the lawyer, and Apollos, with you,

so they might not be left behind.

14Our people must also learn to maintain good works;

they’re necessary business

so they might not be fruitless.

15Everyone with me greets you.¹

Greet our friends in faith.

Grace to all of you.² {Amen.}

Verse 12 is why some people, including the editors of the Textus Receptus, figured Paul wrote this from Nikópolis, Macedon. But since he calls it “there” when he wrote this, instead of “here,” kinda looks to me like he’s not there yet! We shouldn’t be surprised if he wrote it on his way somewhere.

Travel back then was particularly difficult in winter, ’cause weather, and no reliable way to forecast it. So Paul had to hunker down somewhere, and Nikópolis had decent resources and decent temperatures.

Artemas and Tychicus were members of Paul’s ministry team. They’re both Greek names, but don’t presume that automatically makes ’em Greek; plenty of Jews back then had gentile names, same as today. Like Apollos, who had the same name as the Greek sun god; and “Artemas” is the masculine version of Artemis, the moon god. Artemas is never referenced in the bible again, but Tychicus comes up in Acts 20.4 as being from the province of Asia Minor, and Paul refers to him in four different letters. Ep 6.21, Cl 4.7, 2Ti 4.12, Tt 3.12 He had him deliver letters a lot!

Paul tells Titus to bring two guys with him: Zenas “the lawyer,” and Apollos. Zenas, short for the Greek name Zenodoros (meaning “gift of Zeus”) isn’t ever mentioned again. We’ve no idea what sort of lawyer Zenas was—whether he was a Jew, and an expert in the Law of Moses; or a gentile, and an expert in Roman law. Paul calls him “the lawyer” likely because both he and Titus knew another guy named Zenas, and wanted to indicate the right Zenas. As for Apollos, he’s the apostle—the Alexandrian Jew who was full of the Spirit, eloquent, knew his bible, taught Christians, and most tellingly, was receptive to correction. Ac 18.24-28 Paul refers to him a bunch of times too. 1Co 3.4-6, 22, 4.6, 16.12, Tt 3.13

Then, kind of as an afterthought, there’s an important verse about good works.

Put a stop to argumentative Christians.

Titus 3.8-11.

Paul’s letter to Titus is full of advice on how to deal with Christians behaving badly, although recently I’ve heard a preacher using the pastoral epistles to attack pagans behaving badly. That’s not why it was written. My guess is he really wanted to criticize pagans, and wrongly thought these scriptures might help him do it. Problem is, these letters were written to correct us, to keep us on the straight and narrow… and now the people of his church—if they never double-check their pastor to make sure he was right, and let’s be honest; many don’t!—are gonna ignore the apostles’ corrections, think these verses are about pagans not them, and continue being jerks.

Because that’s precisely why Paul wrote the letters! The people of Titus and Timothy’s churches, same as the people of many Christian churches, were being self-righteous jerks, and their pastors needed to shut that bad behavior down. Still do! Too many pastors either lack the spine to do it, or the wisdom to know how to steer people lovingly—they try to discipline their churches with threats and bluntness, and that just drives people away, to attend other churches where the pastors never, ever correct ’em.

And one of the most common pestilences we see in Christian churches, is what we see in today’s passage. It’s about argumentative Christians. Argumentativeness is a work of the flesh, but so many of us justify our fighting and debating and “apologetics” by claiming, “I’m standing up for the truth. I’m doing it for Jesus!” Yeah, no we’re not. We’re indulging our lust for battle, which you can see by all the other carnal, bad fruit which emerges from these fights: Anger, harsh words, hurt feelings, unforgiveness, grudges, vengeance. Even full church splits.

That’s why Paul instructed Titus to nip ’em in the bud.

Titus 3.8-11 KWL

8A true teaching—

and I’d like you¹ to regularly insist on these things

so those who trusted God

might thoughtfully practice good works.

These things are good and helpful for people.

9Moronic lessons and good heritage,

friction, and fights over the Law:

Step away, for they’re wasteful and meaningless.

10After the first and second rebukes,

shut down a heretic person,

11knowing such a person was uprooted

and sins, condemning one’s self.

I have several Greek New Testaments, which I look at when I’m translating bible; including ancient copies of the NT like the Codex Sinaiticus and Codex Alexandrinus. (The Codex Vaticanus doesn’t include Titus.) The ancient copies don’t have punctuation, but some of ’em do have paragraphs, and verse 8 is the beginning of a new paragraph in the Alexandrinus. But Desiderius Erasmus and Robert Estienne, editors of the Textus Receptus (which did use the Alexandrinus text as a reference, and was later used to translate the King James) came up with their own paragraphs. Which is why some bibles either make verse 8 part of the previous paragraph, or make verses 1–11 into one big paragraph. Grammatically, verse 8 can be its very own paragraph. But I’ll just go with the ancient Christians on this one: The previous passages were “a true teaching” (KJV “faithful saying”), but heads up: There are also false teachings.

Apocrypha: The “extra books” your bible may lack.

APOCRYPHON ə'pɑk.rə.fɔn noun. A writing or book not considered part of the accepted canon of scripture.

2. Story of doubtful authenticity.

3. Story that’s obscure or little-known.

[Apocrypha ə'pɑk.rə.fə plural, apocryphal əˈpɑkrəfəl adjective.]

One of my favorite stunts with new Christians used to be, “Turn in your bibles to the book of Wisdom, chapter 4.” And they’d try—they’d flip around their bibles, then give up and look at the table of contents… then realize the book wasn’t there.

“Well it’s in my bible,” I’d tell ’em. And hold it up to show them, confusing them all the more.

My bible included apocrypha. Actually a few of my bibles include apocrypha. And I know; you’re thinking, “Oh, those are Catholic bibles.” Nope; I do own a Catholic bible, but it’s only a New Testament, which has no apocrypha. All my bibles with the apocrypha included are Protestant. Yep, some Protestant bibles have them!

Unfortunately I can’t pull this stunt anymore, ’cause nowadays people look up the bible on their phones. And a lot of bible apps include apocrypha, so they can actually find Wisdom in there. Bible Gateway has apocrypha too. Spoils my little joke. Oh well.

But I had a reason for this joke: I wanted to introduce newbies to the fact not every bible includes all the same books. Orthodox, Catholic, Lutheran, and Anglican bibles are gonna have books in them which your average Evangelical bible will not. Evangelicals call these books apocrypha. Catholics call ’em deuterocanon, and Orthodox anagignoskómena.

Contrary to popular belief, they’re not merely “extra books.” For four centuries before Jesus, Greek-speaking Jews had these books in their bibles. For 17 centuries thereafter, Greek-speaking, Latin-speaking, and English-speaking Christians had ’em in their bibles. Some of these books got quoted in the New Testament. Got quoted by the early church fathers. Got translated and included in the Geneva Bible and King James Version. Seriously.

So when people ask me “Why do Catholics have extra books?” I gotta point out the proper question is why we Evangelicals don’t include these books. ’Cause the majority of Christians in the world do have ’em. And Evangelical Protestants used to have no problem with including ’em in our bibles… well, for about two centuries. Wasn’t till the Puritans began purging apocrypha from bibles that they even became an issue.

Today we have some Protestants who insist not only should apocrypha not be in bibles, but claim they’re devilish. Doesn’t matter that Martin Luther called ’em nützliche, aber nicht heilige Schriften/“useful, but not holy writings.” To these dark Christians, not only are apocrypha not useful, but they (and Roman Catholics) are part of Satan’s evil conspiracy to corrupt the bible.

Here’s what conspiracy theorist Jack Chick had to say on the topic. [The Attack, 8]

According to these cranks, if you read any of the apocrypha, they’ll corrupt you too. Flee the scary books!

Well, let’s put aside the loopy paranoia and get to what apocrypha actually are.

Submission. It’s not domination.

SUBMIT səb'mɪt verb. Yield to or accept a superior force, authority, or will. Consent to their conditions.

2. Present one’s will to another for their consideration or judgment.

[Submission səb'mɪs.ʃən noun.]

Notice there are two popular definitions of submit in use. The more popular of the two has to do with acceptance, obedience, and blind capitulation. To turn off our brains, to do as we’re told. And most sermons instruct Christians to do precisely that. Submit to one another, as Paul ordered.

Ephesians 5.21 ESV

…submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.

’Cause we kinda have to. If we can’t submit to God—if we insist on our own way, our own standards, our own values, our own lifestyles—it’s a pretty good bet we’re outside his kingdom.

Romans 8.5-8 ESV

5For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. 6For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. 7For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. 8Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

So we especially submit to God. Jm 4.7 And to Christian leaders; 1Pe 5.5 we follow the doctrines they proclaim from the pulpit. And wives, submit to your husbands. Ep 5.22 When he says “Jump,” you ask “How high?”

Then there’s the other definition of submit: The one where it’s not typical of a relationship between a benevolent (or not-so-benevolent) despot and their subjects, but between partners, friends, or coworkers. One where we instead bounce ideas off one another. Find out whether these ideas help or inconvenience one another—and of course try to get ’em to help as best we can.

One which sounds appropriate for a παράκλητος/paráklitos, “helper” Jn 14.16, 14.26, 15.26, 16.7 and the people he’s trying to help. For a teacher and his pupils. For a loving God and his kids.

So… which definition d’you think fits what the authors of the scriptures were talking about?

Oh, the benevolent despot thingy? Well it does work for cult leaders and wannabe patriarchs. But in God’s kingdom, where the king calls us his friends, Jn 15.15 where love doesn’t demand its own way, 1Co 13.5 it’s pretty obvious the despotic definition is entirely incorrect. In many ways it’s kinda the opposite of God’s intent. Almost as if the devil got Christians to flip it 180 degrees, n’est-ce pas?

Praying for the dead.

Praying for the dead is a controversial subject among Evangelicals. Because just about everybody does it. Yet just about every Evangelical preacher I’ve heard, has insisted we absolutely shouldn’t.

Yeah, you might be thinking, “I’ve never done it.” You’d be rare. When a loved one dies, usually most Christians will pray, “God, grant them peace,” or “God, grant them eternal rest,” or otherwise ask God to make sure they’re nice ’n comfortable in paradise. (Or “heaven,” because your average Christian doesn’t know squat about the afterlife, and thinks they’re in heaven.) We want the best for our loved ones, and we know God wants the best for our loved ones, and isn’t asking God for their best a form of praying for God’s will to be done? What’d be wrong with that? It’s a prayer we can be sure he’ll answer “yes” to!

Other times when a loved one dies, we Christians might not be all that sure about their eternal destination. It’ll be someone whose relationship with Jesus… well, bluntly, sucked. There are an awful lot of those! They might’ve claimed to be Christian, but never went to church, didn’t know jack squat about the bible, and Jesus’s teachings, and grace. Never displayed any good fruit—in fact they displayed quite a lot of bad fruit, and you wouldn’t know ’em from pagans if you had to pick ’em out of a lineup with paper bags over their heads. We hope they’re in paradise, but we have a bad feeling there’s every chance they may not be. So we’re praying! The prayers vary. Some of us actually try to pray ’em into paradise, if that’s possible (and it’s likely not). Others are praying for their own peace of mind; they don’t like that their loved ones may not be in paradise, but either way, God’s will be done.

Often there are those people who want God to pass a message to their loved ones. Being dead, the loved ones clearly can’t hear us, but they oughta be able to hear God. And we want them to know we love them. Or that we’re okay; or we’ll be okay, eventually. Or that we miss ’em. Or something sentimental; so God, could you let ’em know? Please? Thanks.

And, since I’m posting this on Memorial Day in the United States, there are gonna be those people who pray that God honor our dead, bless their memory, and ask that good fruit will come from their sacrifices. While some Evangelicals might claim that’s not actually praying for the dead, let’s not be hypocrites; it absolutely is, yet y’all don’t seem to have any problem with that. Heck, some of the preachers who shout, “We don’t pray for the dead!” the loudest, will eagerly lead those prayers on Memorial Day.

So who’s right? Well obviously I’m not siding with the preachers. (Not completely.)

The armor of God.

Ephesians 6.10-17.

Christians are fascinated by the armor-of-God metaphor which Paul used in Ephesians 6. Sometimes too fascinated.

Jesus teaches us to foster and encourage peace. Mt 5.9 Of course, our depraved human nature would much rather fight, and kick ass for Jesus if we can. So the idea we get to wear armor and play soldier really fires up certain Christians, who’d love to engage in a little testosterone-fueled warfare, and find this passage an excuse to indulge their blood-soaked he-man fantasies a little. If only metaphorically.

For such people, God’s armor is never for defense, Ep 6.11 but offense. Those who fancy themselves “prayer warriors” love to talk about how to attack with this armor. Christians even make plastic armor for children to play with—including a sword of the Spirit, Ep 6.17 which kids can use to smite one another. In so doing they learn—wrongly, even blasphemously—the word of God is about hurting people.

But just because God’s word is sharper than a sword He 4.12 doesn’t mean we’re to wield it like that! Using it surgically is the Holy Spirit’s job. When we use it, we’re not so precise. Without his guidance it’s a blunt instrument, used to maim our foes, not cure them.

But as part of Paul’s inventory of God’s armor, properly the sword is likewise used for defense. It’s used to parry our opponents’ swords, just as Jesus did with Satan. Our Lord quoted Deuteronomy in order to defeat the devil’s temptations. We gotta do likewise: Assuming we know what God’s told us (and assuming we’re not just projecting our own will upon him), we quote it at devils and naysayers and use it to resist.

Paul actually borrowed the idea of God’s armor from Isaiah 59.17, and expanded upon it a little.

Ephesians 6.10-17 KWL

10As for the rest, {my family}:

Be empowered by the Master,

and in the might of his strength.

11Put on all of God’s gear,

so you² can enable yourselves to stand against the devil’s tactics.

12Because the struggle isn’t us against blood and body,

but against types of rule,

against special privilege,

against the things which rule this dark world {in this age},

against supernatural evil in the high heavens.

13This is why, so receive all God’s gear,

so you² might be able to stand against those things on the evil day,

and they’re enabling you to withstand everything.

14So stand: Belt your² waist with truth.

Put on the body armor of justice.

15Lace up your² shoes in preparation

to deliver the good news of peace.

16Carry at all times the shield of trust in God,

which you’ll² use to put out every flaming arrow of evil.

17Accept the helmet of your salvation

and the machete of the Spirit—

which is God’s spoken word.

And pray at all times in the Spirit Ep 6.18 —but I’ll discuss that another time.

To whom are the scriptures written? It’s kinda important.

Some months ago I visited another church. (So if my pastors are worried this article’s about them: Relax! I figure you know better than to do this.)

The passage was from the New Testament; Paul of Tarsus was, as usual, correcting Christians. I won’t say which of Paul’s letters was quoted; I don’t actually need to. In his sermon, Pastor Berwyn (not his name, but it’s what I’m calling him) expounded on what Paul had to say to all the sinners in our wicked world.

Except… was Paul writing to all the sinners of our wicked world? Or all the sinners of his wicked world?—namely the Roman Empire and its pagan practices. And maybe I should use the word “Pagan” with a capital P, because we’re not talking about today’s pagans, who lean monotheist thanks to the influence of Abrahamic religions: I’m talking old-school pagans, who believed in many gods, few of whom were good or moral or cared about humanity.

If you’ve read your bible, you’re fully aware every single one of Paul’s letters, whether written solo or with co-writers, was addressed to the Christians of various Roman Empire cities. And you’re fully aware every letter—the ones by James, Peter, John, Jude, and Luke—and all the gospels, were likewise written to Christians. The recipients and audience of the entire New Testament? Ancient Christians. And their posterity, which includes today’s Christians.

Not pagans. Not pagans then; not pagans now. Yep, even though we’ll give free bibles and gospels of John to pagans, in the hopes they’ll find Jesus in there: It wasn’t written to them.

Now, since the New Testament was written to ancient Christians, it stands to reason there are gonna be some things in it which dealt specifically with ancient Christian issues and problems. And for that, we gotta do a little historical research, and make sure we’re not borrowing the instructions about an ancient problem, and wrongly turning ’em into a current problem. (Like telling women they can’t speak in church.) Historical context is just as important.

Otherwise, the New Testament was written to Christians. Not pagans. And Paul’s instructions—and rebukes—are to Christians. Not the cold cruel world of the Roman Empire, nor the cold cruel world of the United States. He’s doing housekeeping. He’s trying to clean up the people who claim to follow Jesus. The people who make no such claims: They’re on their own. Ro 1.28-32 Till they repent.

If you ever hear a preacher angrily condemning the world… well, that’s gonna happen. Shouldn’t be done in anger, ’cause sinners aren’t gonna listen to an angry person; such preachers are speaking without love. (And don’t give me any rubbish about “tough love.” That’s just more anger.) But they’re gonna figure, “The Old Testament prophets did it; why can’t I?” and rant about it as much as they please, and maybe there’ll be some truth in it.

But if you’re claiming or implying the apostles did the same thing in the New Testament, you’d be wrong. You’re pulling the scriptures out of their context, and teaching your own bile instead of godly wisdom.

Praying exact prayers.

I haven’t heard this teaching in a mighty long time, but I heard it again recently: The preacher was informing her audience (and reminding her regular listeners) that whenever we pray for stuff, we gotta get really, precisely specific. We gotta tell God exactly what we want from him. Otherwise we might not get it. God might give us something which generally resembles what we want, but not exactly what we want. We weren’t clear.

Fr’instance let’s say you’re looking for a job. What you’d love to do is work at a bank, approving loans. But you ask God, “Please Lord, I’d like to work at a bank; any job will do.” And God answers that prayer! But your job at the bank is looking at the dark and blurry photos people send of checks through the bank’s app, and confirming they’re something the bank can actually cash. Hardly your dream job. But hey, God answered your prayer!—you just didn’t specify you didn’t wanna look at bad phone-camera photography eight hours a day.

Ergo we have to specify what we want. You know, kinda like you’re programming ChatGPT. You want the bot to output exactly what you want, without any surprises or errors? You gotta spell it out for it. It’s not that intelligent.

Now. If you’re in any way familiar with the Almighty, you know he’s not a moron like these “artificially intelligent” programs. If you know your bible, you can probably quote this verse from memory, or close enough:

Matthew 6.8 NRSVue

“Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”

That’s Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, explaining to his listeners, and to us Christians centuries later, that we don’t need to use many words and empty phrases with God. Mt 6.7 In context he was really talking about pagans who feel they need to call upon their gods with big, complicated incantations—and if they get the incantations wrong, maybe their gods won’t listen!

And y’know, it’s kinda what this preacher is suggesting God is like. That if we get our prayer wording wrong, maybe the LORD won’t listen, and we won’t get exactly what we ask for.

If you’ve heard this teaching before, I’m betting you heard it from the “name it and claim it” crowd. Every time I’ve heard it taught, it came from someone who’s been listening to their preachers, reading their books, and dabbling in their teachings. A number of ’em believe our words are so powerful, we can actually call things into existence. Same as God! Supposedly he’s granted us Christians the same power he has to create stuff. So we gotta be careful with those words, lest we create things we don’t actually want.

Because when we don’t get precise with our prayer requests, we might ask for the right thing, wrongly. And when we do this, God might grin, say, “Well you did ask for it,” and prankishly give us literally what we requested. And now we’re stuck with it.

Like the man in the joke who asked a genie for a million clams. By which he meant dollars—and somehow expected a genie, who shouldn’t even know English, to know American slang. But nope; the genie bestowed him with a million literal clams.

I don’t know what’s worse: Claiming God is as dumb as a chatbot, or God is some kind of prankster god like Cupid, Loki, or Coyote. I should hope you know he’s wiser, and has a far better character, than that. I should hope you know he’s generous, and is eager to bless us far more than we ask or think. Ep 3.20 I mean, they very idea God’s interested in playing dumb games with prayer, oughta offend us a little. It is blasphemy after all.

But if you're way more interested in getting your wishes granted, stands to reason you'll fall for this foolish advice.

The implications of being the Son of Man.

John 5.24-29.

On occasion I’ll hear some Christian preacher claim that Jesus referring to God as “Father”—whether he’s talking about God as his Father, or God as our Father—was a wholly unique thing in history; that somehow the Jews had never before imagined God as their Father. It’s not true—

Deuteronomy 32.6 KJV

Do ye thus requite the LORD, O foolish people and unwise? is not he thy father that hath bought thee? hath he not made thee, and established thee?

Psalm 89.26 KJV

He shall cry unto me, Thou art my father, my God, and the rock of my salvation.

Isaiah 63.16 KJV

Doubtless thou art our father, though Abraham be ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not: thou, O LORD, art our father, our redeemer; thy name is from everlasting.

Isaiah 64.8 KJV

But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.

Malachi 1.6 KJV

A son honoureth his father, and a servant his master: if then I be a father, where is mine honour? and if I be a master, where is my fear? saith the LORD of hosts unto you, O priests, that despise my name. And ye say, Wherein have we despised thy name?

—but man do preachers like to claim it.

Anyway, Jesus regularly refers to God as our Father, and specifically his Father… but whereas we humans are just creations and adoptive children of our heavenly Father, Jesus is something significantly different. He’s the Son of God. And no, not just “Son of God” in the sense we see in Psalm 2, where the king of Israel is especially adopted by God as his son, and therefore “Son of God” is just a royal title like Messiah. Nope; in the trinity there’s a Father and Son, and the Son became human, and that’s Jesus of Nazareth. He’s fully God same as his Father is fully God.

In John chapter 5, Jesus explains some of that idea. And it’s a doozy of an idea. Pretty sure it broke the brains of most of the Judeans he said it to. Because Jesus is making some pretty cosmic declarations about himself. He already said in the last bit the Father shows the Son everything he does, Jn 5.20 the Son’s gonna raise the dead, Jn 5.21 the Son’s gonna judge the world, Jn 5.22 and you’d better recognize the Son’s authority if you respect the Father. Jn 5.23

Oh, and at the End, the coming in the clouds of the Son of Man? Da 7.13 That’s Jesus. He’s the Son of Man. Did you not notice he constantly calls himself “the Son of Man”? He doesn’t do it to remind people he’s human; anybody who looked at him could tell he was human. He does it to remind people he’s that guy. The guy who does all this:

John 5.24-29 KWL

24 “Amen amen! I promise you the one who hears my word,

and trusts the One who sends me,

has life in the age to come

and doesn’t go into judgment.

Instead they passed from death into life.

25 Amen amen! I promise you the hour comes, and it’s now,

when the dead will hear God’s Son’s voice,

and those who will hear it, will live.

26 For just as the Father has life in himself,

likewise he gives life to the Son to have in himself.

27 The Father gives the Son power to make judgments,

because he’s the Son of Man.

28 Don’t be amazed by this, because the hour comes

in which everyone in the sepulchers

will hear the Son of Man’s voice

29 and come out—

those who do good, into resurrection life;

those who do little, into resurrection judgment.”

You realize this discussion started because some people got bent out of shape over Jesus curing the sick on sabbath. And people think I go off on tangents. Jesus went from, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work” Jn 5.17 KJV to “Oh and just to remind you, I’m the Son of Man.”

It’s weird how various pagans will insist Jesus was only a great moral teacher and nothing more, when Jesus straight-up tells people he’s going to raise the dead, judge humanity, and rule the world. And people don’t dismiss him as a demonized madman and stone him to death, because he just cured a guy who was unable to walk for 38 years, and demonized guys can’t do that. The only ones who can do that, outside of hospitals, were empowered by God—and for all you know, might actually be the great End Times figure whose everlasting kingdom shall not be destroyed. Da 7.14

The implications of being God’s son.

John 5.17-23.

After Jesus cured some guy at a pool, the Judeans objected because he’d done so on sabbath. Now in the synoptic gospels, Jesus’s defense was usually along the lines of, “Curing the sick is a good deed, and doing good deeds on sabbath doesn’t violate the Law.” In John however, his defense is entirely different:

John 5.17-18 KWL

17 Jesus answers them, “Even today, my Father works.

And I work.”

18 So this is why the Judeans are seeking all the more to kill him:

Not only is Jesus loosening sabbath custom,

but he’s saying God is his own father,

making himself equal to God.

Y’see, there’s a really profound legal concept embedded in Jesus’s statement, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.” Jn 5.17 KJV It’s something you’re gonna miss if you don’t understand how adoption in the Roman Empire worked. Instead you’re gonna wind up making the foolish assumption many an Evangelical has: They think Jesus told the Judeans, “God’s not bound by your customs and Law, and neither am I.” Therefore he can break the Law. With impunity. Kinda like they do.

If Jesus is claiming he has the almighty prerogative to do as he pleases, including break whatever commands he wished, then Jesus could sin like crazy. It’s why lawless Christians love this interpretation—it gives them license to sin like crazy. Grace forgives everything, right? So let’s get nuts!

It turns Jesus into a major jerk—which is an obvious sign that’s not what he meant. If any interpretation of God violates his character, it’s wrong. It’s based on our bad attitudes, not his.

Jesus isn’t claiming he can do as he pleases. He’s claiming he does as the Father does. And the Father is benevolent, kind, generous, compassionate, forgiving. He does good deeds every day of the week, sabbath included. Ever been sick, and got well on a Saturday morning? Looks like God cured you on sabbath too.

Likewise Jesus is kind. His goal is always to demonstrate his Father’s love, and in so doing reveal who the Father is, and the sort of kingdom the Father’s given him to rule. Bear that in mind whenever you read the gospels.

Okay, on to what Jesus actually means. And why it outraged the Judeans.

“But you cured them on 𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩.”

John 5.8-16, Luke 13.10-17.

So Jesus goes to Jerusalem and cures some guy at a pool. I’ll quote the pertinent part:

John 5.8-9 KWL

8 Jesus tells him, “Get up.

Pick up your bed and walk.”

9 At once the person becomes whole.

He picks up his bed and walks.

It’s the sabbath on that day.

In case you missed it, the last line of verse 9 points out that day was sabbath. That’d be Saturday, the seventh day of the week; the day on which the LORD told Israel he wanted ’em to not work. There’s a whole command about it:

Deuteronomy 5.12-14 KJV

12 Keep the sabbath day to sanctify it, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee. 13 Six days thou shalt labour, and do all thy work: 14 but the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass, nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest as well as thou. 15 And remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the LORD thy God brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: therefore the LORD thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.

Everybody got that? No worky. Not you, nor your kids, nor your employees, nor your animals, nor “shabbos goys”—which is what certain American Jews call their gentile friends who do things for ’em on sabbath so they won’t break the command. They might think having their gentile neighbor pick up a pizza for ’em isn’t suborning a commandment violation. But it totally is.

Pharisees got mighty specific about what constitutes rest. The Mishna has a whole section, or tractate, called Shabbát. It’s all about what you can and can’t do on sabbath. There are 39 specific Pharisee rules about what not to do. No planting, plowing, reaping, gathering, threshing, winnowing, etc. Picking up your bed broke the 39th rule: No moving something from one significant place to another.

Yet here was this guy, carrying his bed. Because Jesus, who cured him, told him to do it.

John 5.10-13 KWL

10 So the Judeans are telling the cured person, “It’s sabbath!

It’s not right for you to pick up your bed.”

11 The cured person answers them, “He who makes me whole—

that person tells me, ‘Pick up your bed and walk.’ ”

12 They question him, “Who is the person

who tells you, ‘Pick it up and walk’?”

13 The cured person didn’t know who Jesus is,

for Jesus slipped into the crowd in that place.

God’s unmerited favor.

Titus 3.4-7.

Previously in Titus, Paul reminded Titus and the church of Crete—the men in particular—to be good people, not “tough guys” and alpha males who are constantly battling everyone else to be the top dog. There are a lot of unhealthy Christians who still try to behave that way—who think we should be that way; be far more like the characters Mel Gibson and Clint Eastwood play in the movies, than Christ Jesus.

We used to be that way, Paul said; stupid, unyielding, evil, envious, hate-filled…

Titus 3.4-7 KWL

4That’s when the kindness and love for humanity

of our savior God appeared—

5not because of works of righteousness which we do,

but God saves us because of his mercy,

through washing, rebirth, and renewal of the Holy Spirit,

6whom he richly pours out over us

through Christ Jesus our savior,

7so we who are justified in that grace might become heirs,

according to the hope of life in the age to come.

That’s when the Cretans—that’s when we all—encountered God’s grace. While we were still jerks and sinners, while we were still unworthy of salvation and adoption by God, while we didn’t deserve God’s kingdom at all, Christ died for us.

And you’ll find that same sort of grace—that same unmerited favor—throughout the bible. It’s hardly just in the New Testament. It’s everywhere.

When the LORD chose Avram ben Terah, renamed him Abraham, Ge 17.5 promised him the land of כְּנַעַן/Kena‘án (KJV “Canaan”) and had him relocate there, Ge 12.1-3 then promised him an uncountable number of descendants, Ge 13.16 it wasn't because Abraham was a good man. Most of the Abraham stories involve him screwing up one way or another. He wasn't a particularly outstanding specimen of humanity. At all.

Yes he had loads of faith. But his story doesn’t start with that faith. He didn’t have it yet. He acquired it—as the product of his God-experiences. After God appeared to him, gave him a mission, and promised him stuff. After he spent 25 years—not a short time!—following God before he finally got the son God initially promised. God showed up way before Abraham’s faith did.

So why'd the LORD establish a relationship with Abraham and his descendants? Grace. Solely grace. Pure grace.

And he did it again. When the LORD sent Moses to rescue some of Abraham’s descendants from Egypt, then patiently dealt with these Hebrews’ sins thereafter, and finally got their descendants into Canaan and helped them take the land: Again, ’twasn’t because the Hebrews were good people. Without constant divine supervision, they’d turn idolatrous within a month! Miraculously supply ’em with daily bread, and they’d still piss and moan they had it better in Egypt. (Where they were slaves. Where the Egyptians murdered their babies.) The Hebrews were just awful to their God. So why’d the LORD even bother with them? ’Cause he promised Abraham he would. Dt 7.7-8 ’Cause grace. Pure grace.

When Jesus decided to save me, what had I done to merit saving? Not a thing. I was a little kid. Not a good little kid either. I could be a tantrum-throwing brat when I didn’t get my way. (I still can be, which is why I gotta keep that misbehavior in check. God help my poor nurses if ever I go senile.) Plenty of Christians will easily confess they were awful human beings when they first encountered Jesus. Why’d he save us anyway? ’Cause he loves us. ’Cause grace. Pure grace.

Christians love to describe grace as “unmerited favor.” It’s actually more than that—it’s God’s entire attitude towards us, which includes unmerited favor. And often we forget the unmerited part: It really isn’t deserved at all. Totally unfair. Often inappropriate. It breaks all the rules of karma. We shouldn’t get it!

Hence there are a lot of people, Christians included, who still strive to achieve good karma. Who try their darnedest to be good people, try to balance out any bad in their lives, and make it so they do merit God’s good favor. Who think the whole purpose of good deeds is to make ourselves worthy of heaven. They forget God doesn’t work like that. At all. He forgave us already. He makes us worthy of heaven. Ep 1.15-23

Why? Nah; I’m not gonna repeat it anymore. Go back and read it again.

“Call me Pastor.”

Twelve years ago I got into a conversation with some guy at a Starbucks. It’s usually in coffeehouses such conversations take place; I’m in them so often. He asked my name. I gave it. He gave his name as “Pastor Athenodoros”—although Athenodoros isn’t actually his first name, ’cause I changed it for this story, ’cause he’s not gonna look good.

Athenodoros struck up a conversation with me, quickly found out I’m Christian, and we got to talking about our common beliefs. Like most people, he assumed since I’m not clergy, I must know nothing about theology. Which is a really naïve assumption, ’cause there are a lot of dangerously overeducated laymen like me around. Something I learned back in my journalism days: Never underestimate people. Never overestimate ’em either. Just find out who they really are.

There are a lot of dangerously undereducated clergy around too. It just so happens Athenodoros is among them. He tried to instruct me in certain areas… in which he clearly knew very little. I expressed doubt, ’cause scripture, which I quoted where appropriate. Athenodoros tried to correct me, ’cause earnestness, although he couldn’t really think of any proof texts. I didn’t fret about it, ’cause Athenodoros wasn’t wandering into heresy. But Athenodoros did fret about it. Y’see, certain folks believe anyone who disagrees with them is heretic, and think it’s their duty to rescue such heretics from hell; so Athenodoros just had to get through to me and convince me of my errors. I think I kinda ruined his day.

To my point: At some point I addressed him by his given name, which as far as you know is “Athenodoros.” He corrected me there, too.

HE. “It’s Pastor Athenodoros.”

ME. “I’m sorry. Your first name is ‘Pastor’? Or it’s ‘Pastor-Athenodoros’?”

HE. “Pastor’s my title.”

ME. “Oh. But you aren’t my pastor. No offense.”

HE. “Still, I’m a pastor, ordained by God. I should be addressed by that title.”

ME. “Fair enough. If you were a doctor I’d call you Dr. Athenodoros.”

HE. “Exactly.”

ME. “But wouldn’t you think it odd if a person walked up to you, gave you unsolicited medical advice, and told you to call him ‘Doctor’? No offense.”

HE. “…If he saw someone in real need of medical treatment, that is his job.”

ME. “It is. But let’s say his treatment sounds a little, well, off. ‘Here, take this strychnine. It’ll settle your stomach.’ ‘Waitaminnit, isn’t strychnine poison?’ ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m a doctor.’ ‘Yeah but I’m pretty sure strychnine is poison.’ ‘Yeah, but “doctor’s” my title.’ You see the problem?”

HE. “You think I’m trying to poison you?”

ME. “No, I think your intentions are good. But good intentions doesn’t mean good doctrine. Apollos was a great, earnest speaker, but Priscilla and her husband still had to correct a few screwy ideas he had.” Ac 18.24-26

HE. “So you think I have a few screwy ideas.”

ME. “Well I have my doubts. And the whole, ‘You have to call me pastor’ thing doesn’t help. It’s like ‘Don’t look at my reasoning. Look at my title. I’m a pastor. You can trust me.’ ”

HE. “So you don’t trust me?”

ME. “I just met you. I don’t know you. You just came over here and decided you’re my pastor. I have a pastor. If you were my pastor, I would know your voice. But I tell you the truth, I do not know you nor where you came from.”

HE. “All right. Well you have a good day.”

ME. “You too.”

Yeah, I was loosely quoting Jesus. Jn 10.1-18 I think Athenodoros recognized the bible reference, which is why it bothered him. Of course, he might’ve been just as bothered by the fact I wouldn’t blindly accept his authority over me.

I shouldn’t have to tell Americans, of all people, to watch out for people who wanna claim authority over us. But you’d be surprised how often people assume, “Oh, you’re a pastor. Well then you know what you’re talking about.” Many of ’em do. Some really don’t.

Christian stewardship.

STEWARDSHIP 'st(j)u.ərd.ʃɪp noun. The job or duty of supervising or caretaking a person, property, or organization.

2. [adjective] Having to do with the role or condition of supervision or caretaking.

[Steward 'st(j)u.ərd noun; stewarding 'st(j)u.ərd.ɪŋ verb.]

Why on earth have I decided to tag the topic of stewardship with “Mammon”? Because way too often—in fact I would argue most of the time—whenever Christians talk about stewardship, we’re talking about managing our wealth… but we’re pretending we’re managing God’s wealth.

First time I heard about stewardship, I was a kid, learning about Adam and Eve and creation. Adam and Eve had been put in charge of the planet Earth. Says so in the bible.

Genesis 1.27-28 KJV

27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. 28 And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.

“Subdue it” (Hebrew כִבְשֻׁ֑הָ/khivsá literally means to tamp it down, but usually has the sense of conquering and subjugating. Humans are meant to take over our world, and make it do as we want.

But, my Sunday school teacher pointed out, not so we could just do as we please with it, and ruin it as if it’s a disposable commodity. Littering is bad! Polluting is bad! I know; your Sunday school teacher may not have ever taught such things. Mine did, and justified it by pointing to something the LORD told the Hebrews in the wilderness about the land he intended to give them.

Leviticus 25.23 KJV

The land shall not be sold for ever: for the land is mine; for ye are strangers and sojourners with me.

It’s God’s land, and God’s world, she pointed out. We humans are just stewards of this world. We take care of it for him. At at some point we have to answer to God for how we did.

Other Evangelicals have profoundly different attitudes about creation care—and many don’t believe we do answer to God for it. Ever. He gave Earth to Adam and Eve; we’re descendants of Adam and Eve; so it’s our planet to do with as we see fit. And after Jesus returns he’s just gonna destroy the world and make New Earth anyway. Rv 21.1 So it’s okay if we trash the world, and make it uninhabitable and poisonous. We’re getting a brand-new one!

Anyway, that’s how I was introduced to the concept of stewardship. I no longer agree with that interpretation of it; I’ll get to that. But between that and Jesus’s parable about the Faithful and Stupid Stewards Lk 12.41-48 —one of whom watched out for his master, and the other who acted as if the master would never return—to my mind, stewardship had to do with responsibly doing as God wants during our time in this world.

Then, as a teenager, I was introduced to stewardship as it has to do with how Christians handle our money. And that’s where I encountered a buttload of Mammonism. Disguised as Christianity of course; disguised as biblical principles which’d make Christians wealthy, and justifications for all our covetous and stingy behavior: “We’re practicing good stewardship of God’s money. We’re doing it for him.”

Yeah right. If doing it for God were truly the case, we’d see way more good fruit in all this “stewardship.” But when it’s not—when it’s all just hypocrisy and Mammonism—we look like greedy, graceless people who have built a lot of Christian corporations and fancy buildings, but haven’t built any of God’s kingdom. Nothing that’ll last after Jesus personally takes over. Because we’ve prioritized money.

The man at the pool.

John 5.1-9.

There are two back-to-back stories of Jesus curing people in John, but because they’re in two different chapters, Christians tend not to nice they’re right by each other. On purpose. ’Cause they happen some time apart. The first, where Jesus cures a royal’s son, happens in western Galilee right after they got back from Jerusalem. The second, where Jesus cures a weak man at a pool, takes place back in Jerusalem—either at the next festival where they were expected to go to temple, or several festivals later; maybe even years later. We don’t know.

The situation is this: Jesus is back in Jerusalem, and in Jerusalem there’s a pool. The UBS and NA Greek New Testaments identify it as Βηθζαθά/Vithzathá, although most bibles go with the name given by the Textus Receptus, Βηθεσδά/Vithesdá (KJV “Bethesda”) and other ancient copies of John call it Βηθσαιδά/Vithsedá, Βηδσαιδά/Vidsedá, Βηδσαιδάν/Vidsedán, and Βελζεθά/Velzethá. All of these are attempts to transliterate the Syriac name בית זיתא/Beit Cheytá, the name of a district in first-century Jerusalem which Josephus calls “the New City.” The district was next to the Roman fortress, Antonia, located on the NNW corner of the temple mount, and the pool was within this district. It was created around the 700s BC as a reservoir for rainwater, and around 200 BC the head priest, Simon bar Onias (also known as Simon 2), had a second pool created just south of it. Scholars figure it was so one pool could hold warm water, and the other cold, so you could bathe in whatever temperature you pleased.

Because it’s by the Sheep Gate, popular legend says the pool was created to wash sheep before their ritual sacrifice. Problem is, the pool is 13 meters deep, which is more appropriate for drowning sheep. So no, it’s likely not for washing animals. (That’s what they used Siloam for.) More likely this pool was mainly used for ritual washing. People had to get ritually clean before they could go to temple, so here’s where they did it.

The Israel Museum’s model of the “Pool of Bethesda” during the first century. Without the water of course. John describes it with five colonnades—the four around the whole complex, and one in the middle over the wall between the pools. [Wikimedia]

After the Romans destroyed Jerusalem, the pool was made part of a pagan temple to Asclepius and Serapis, the Roman and Egyptian gods of healing. When the Roman Empire became Christian, it was turned into the Church of the Sheep, which was destroyed in 614 by the Persians. The Crusaders rebuilt it as a smaller church, the Church of the Paralytic, which fell into disuse after the crusaders built the larger Church of St. Anne nearby. That church was renovated by the French in the 1800s, but the rest remained ruins, later to be excavated by German archaeologist Conrad Schick.

Today, the Sheep Gate is known as the Lion’s Gate (Hebrew שער האריות/shahar ha-Arayót), named for the leopard carvings in the stone above it, which get confused with lions. It’s the entrance to the Muslim quarter. The pool’s still there, as part of the St. Anne’s church complex.

But let’s get back to Jesus’s day. At that time, the pool was a healing pool: Sick people gathered round it, hoping for a miracle.

John 5.1-4 KWL

1 After these events there’s a Judean feast,

and Jesus goes up to Jerusalem.

2 A pool is in Jerusalem, by the Sheep Gate

—in Syriac it’s called Beit Cheytá—

having five colonnades.

3 Under these colonnades lay a large number

of weak, blind, lame, shriveled people,

{waiting for the water to move.

4 For an angel comes down to the pool at times,

and agitates the water,

so the first who enters after the water is agitated

becomes whole from whatever ailment he has.}

Verses 3B–4 first appeared in fourth-century copies of John, and were of course added to the Textus Receptus. They provide kind of a backstory to why all these people were gathered round the pool: Whenever the water moved, they figured an angel was causing it, and hoped it’d heal them. My only problem with this theory is it sounds a lot like pagan superstition; like something the Greeks would claim. “Look, a lesser god is moving the water! Jump in!” But is that what people believed in the first century? Or what people believed in the fourth century, after a few centuries of Greco-Roman pagans had overseen the pool, and added their own superstitions to the pool’s history?

Now we do know the water was agitated, for that’s what the weak man says. Jn 5.7 But it didn’t have to be roiled up by an angel. It coulda happened whenever the water was replenished. Or when an attendant dumped a bunch of bath salts into it. Or when crowds of people came to town and needed ritual washing. Anything coulda moved the water—and people might figure, “Fresh water” or “Ritual washing” or “Fresh salts” or any of those things might somehow make the water holier, and therefore more likely to cure ’em.

But the angel story has been in bibles, including the Vulgate, for a mighty long time. And you know how people are with favorite traditions: They’re loath to give ’em up, no matter how wrong and misguided they might be.

Still, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if this was a myth these sick people believed. They wanted to get well, and healthcare didn’t exist back then. Their “physicians” were actually witch doctors, and had no real medical nor scientific training. Their faith healers might be legit—might actually have the Holy Spirit empowering them—but then again might not, or might be frauds. So what other options did you have? Well, there was a rumor if you got in the pool at just the right time, you’d get cured. So here they were.

If it all sounds hopeless to you—and it kinda does to me too—y’notice the people gathered round the pool had to have some small degree of hope, or they wouldn’t be there! (Or, which is just as likely, their family members wouldn’t carry them there, day after day, in the hopes something might happen.) Hey, what else are you gonna do? Who else are you gonna turn to?

So this is the depressing situation Jesus walked into one day… to bring somebody out of it.

The first time Jesus cured anyone.

John 4.46-54.

While Jesus and his students were staying in Cana (where they didn’t respect him as a prophet, so he didn’t have to deal with people seeking “Jesus the Prophet” all day), a certain royal showed up. Probably specifically to seek him out: Someone did respect Jesus the Prophet.

John 4.46 KWL

46 Jesus goes again to Cana of Galilee,

where he made the water wine.

A certain royal is there,

whose son in Capharnaum is sick.

John calls him a βασιλικὸς/vasilikós, “a royal.” Not a king, but someone in the royal family; debatably a servant in the royal household, but that’s far less likely. Could be someone who might actually become king himself someday, but if that’s so you’d think John woulda named names.

Both John Wycliffe and the Geneva Bible translated vasilikós as “little king.” But for some reason the King James translated it “nobleman,” and that concept has kinda stuck in translators’ heads ever since. You get “royal official” (Amplified, CSB, NASB, NET, NIV, NRSV), “government official” (ISV, GNB, and NLT), plain ’ol “official” (ESV), and of course “nobleman” (NKJV, MEV).

Regardless, he was a big deal—and word leaked to him Jesus might be the sort of person who could do miracles. And when you’re desperate, you’ll jump all over that sort of rumor. So this royal saddled up, rode 30 kilometers across the province, and called upon some obscure Nazarene rabbi.

John 4.47 KWL

Once this royal heard

Jesus comes from Judea to the Galilee,

he goes to Jesus

and asks whether Jesus might come down

and cure his son,

for he’s about to die.

Prophets get no respect back home.

John 4.43-45.

Right after Jesus spent two days with the Samaritans of Sykhár, sharing the gospel of God’s kingdom with ’em, he needed a break. So he returned to his homeland—the western side of the Roman province of the Galilee. More precisely Cana (today’s Kfar Kanna), 4 kilometers north of Nazareth, where he’d done the water-to-wine thingy.

Time to quote the gospel.

John 4.43-45 KWL

43 After the two days, Jesus comes out of Samaria,

and he goes into the Galilee.

44 For Jesus himself testifies that prophets,

in their own homeland, have no respect.

45 So when Jesus comes to the Galilee,

the Galileans receive him:

They saw everything he did in Jerusalem at the festival,

for they likewise went to the festival.

The part which tends to throw us Christians is Jesus’s comment “that a prophet hath no honour in his own country.” Jn 4.44 KJV Because in the synoptic gospels, Jesus says it like it’s a bad thing—

Mark 6.4 KWL

Jesus tells them this:

“A prophet isn’t really disrespected

till he’s in his homeland,

and with his relatives,

and in his own home.”

 

Matthew 13.57 KWL

They’re offended by him, and Jesus tells them,

“A prophet isn’t really disrespected

till he’s in his homeland,

and in his own home.”

 

Luke 4.24 KWL

Jesus says, “Amen! I promise you this:

A prophet never gets approval in his homeland.”

—because in those contexts, it was a bad thing. In each of these gospels, Jesus was teaching in the Nazareth synagogue, Lk 4.16 and his neighbors couldn’t handle the fact these teachings and revelations were coming out of him. Who’s he? What’s the handyman Mk 6.1 (or handyman’s son Mt 13.55) doing announcing God’s kingdom has arrived? In Luke they even tried to push him off a cliff. Lk 4.29

I don’t know whether the incident at the Nazareth synagogue took place before this John passage. It might have, but I don’t think so: One of the Nazarenes’ objections was they wanted Jesus to duplicate the miracles he’d done in Capharnaum, Lk 4.23 and in John he’s not even been to Capharnaum yet, and done no such miracles. Jn 4.54 But by that point it appears he already had made the quip that prophets get no respect back home.

Historically, Christians have interpreted this to mean familiarity breeds contempt. Jesus’s neighbors presumed they knew him—and “knew” he wasn’t anyone important. And took offense at the very idea he might be. Who’d he think he was? What, did he think he was better than them? How dare he.

“Why are there so many bible translations?”

Probably the most common question I get about bible translations—right after people ask me which one’s the best—is why there are so many.

If you visit Bible Gateway, which is one of the more popular bible websites on the internet—one I myself use frequently—you’ll find they have 63 different English translations. Yep, you read that number correctly. Sixty and three. To be fair, a number of those translations overlap:

• The King James Version (KJV) and the Authorized King James Version (AKJV) are the same translation, but with slightly different formatting.
• The New International Version (NIV) and the New International Version - UK (NIVUK) are the same translation, but with some words spelled differently. The same deal exists for the English Standard Version (ESV, ESVUK) and the New Revised Standard (although the previous NRSV was replaced with the updated edition, i.e. the NRSVUE).
• The Revised Standard Version (RSV) and the Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (RSVCE) are the same translation, but the Catholic edition uses the Catholic book order and includes the books Protestants tend to skip. Again, same deal with the NRSV (whose Catholic Edition is the NRSVCE).

Still, that’s more than 50 different English translations, and Bible Gateway certainly doesn’t include every English translation. I used to collect bible translations, so I have a few obscure ones which Bible Gateway certainly doesn’t include, and good luck finding bible software which sells them either.

But back to the question: Why are there so many English translations? Especially since there are plenty of people-groups who still lack a bible translation in their language! True, translators are working on that problem; Wycliffe Bible Translators and SIL International are doing what they can. In some cases they gotta create a written version of the language from scratch, just like Sequoyah did, then get the people literate so they can actually read the newly-translated bibles. Still, why aren’t translators working on that instead of creating yet another English translation?

Okay. Simply and bluntly, the reason there are so many English bible translations is because the bible sells big-time. And if you’re a book publisher, and you own the rights to a bible translation, you’re gonna make money. That’s it. Pure and simple.

No, it’s not for altruistic reasons. It’s not because the English-speaking world needs a new and better translation of the bible. We have plenty of perfectly good English translations. If you compare those translations on Bible Gateway—if, fr’instance, you look at all the different ways people have translated John 3.16—you’re not gonna see significant differences! You’re not gonna think, “Wow, there’s some division and controversy about how to translate that verse.” No, there’s really not. And the same is true of pretty much all the English-language bibles.

Yep, the primary reason for all the new bible translations is money. The bible still sells better than every other book. By far. The “best-selling book of 2023” was Colleen Hoover’s It Ends With Us, which sold about 1.29 million copies. But when you look up stats for bible sales, the KJV Giant Print Reference Bible has sold more than 10 million since it dropped in October. And the NKJV Giant Print Reference Bible, released at the same time, has sold more than 5 million. It’s because bestseller lists deliberately skip bibles—because if they included them, their lists would be nothing but bibles.