Text: Mark 15:33-47

Location and Date: Remsen Bible Fellowship, 07/06/2025

Title: The Darkest Day

Mark 15:33-47, And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. 34 And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 35 And some of the bystanders hearing it said, “Behold, he is calling Elijah.” 36 And someone ran and filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a reed and gave it to him to drink, saying, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down.” 37 And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last. 38 And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. 39 And when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was the Son of God!”

40 There were also women looking on from a distance, among whom were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. 41 When he was in Galilee, they followed him and ministered to him, and there were also many other women who came up with him to Jerusalem.

42 And when evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, 43 Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God, took courage and went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. 44 Pilate was surprised to hear that he should have already died. And summoning the centurion, he asked him whether he was already dead. 45 And when he learned from the centurion that he was dead, he granted the corpse to Joseph. 46 And Joseph bought a linen shroud, and taking him down, wrapped him in the linen shroud and laid him in a tomb that had been cut out of the rock. And he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid.

Introduction

When you hear the phrase, “The Darkest Day”, what comes to mind? I don’t mean in world history—we’ll turn there very shortly. But for this moment, I want that question to be intensely personal. When you think of your darkest day, what comes to mind?

As you consider that day, I wonder if you asked then—or maybe you still ask now—“my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” You wouldn’t be the first to ask such a question. Three thousand years ago King David wrote those very words (Psalm 22:1), and as we just read, Jesus quotes them from the cross. David, and the other psalmists, asked a lot of questions along those lines.

Psalm 13:1a, “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?”

Psalm 79:5, “How long, O LORD? Will you be angry forever?”

Psalm 89:46, “How long, O LORD? Will you hide yourself forever?”

Psalm 13:1b, “How long will you hide your face from me?”

The psalmists knew about dark days. And they knew how to bring those days of darkness to the Lord. They did not do the normal Christian thing of putting a stiff upper lip on and pretending like every day feels “#blessed.” When everything felt dark, when God seemed distant, they simply asked: where are you, God?

Darkness Absorbed

The sort of honesty is striking coming from the psalmists. But it is, in my view, almost mind-boggling when it’s coming from the lips of Jesus himself. Verse 33 tells us that darkness enveloped the whole land for three hours—the sixth to ninth hours, that is, noon until 3pm.

Darkness in the Old Testament was largely associated with God’s judgement—think of the ninth plague in Egypt. Darkness enveloped the whole land. And this immediately precedes the final judgement—the death of the firstborn son.

Or consider Amos 8:9, ‘“And on that day,” declares the Lord GOD, “I will make the sun go down at noon and darken the earth in broad daylight.”’ Amos was speaking of the great and awful Day of the Lord, a time of judgement on Israel and the nations. The prophets Jeremiah and Micah both use similar imagery. The point? When God removes the light, the light which represents his blessing and presence, it is clear that his judgement has fallen.

But what should surprise us as we read this passage in light of the OT, then, is not the fact of God’s wrath, but the object: the whole land is dark, but who stands—or rather, hangs—at the center? God’s beloved Son.

We looked last week at the first half of this chapter, in which Mark clearly holds Jesus forward as the King of the Jews. He is God’s anointed, the Christ, the Messiah. And now, in verse 33, his place is just as clear: object of God’s Almighty fury. Why was Jesus in this place? To serve and save sinners. “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Here, at the cross, Jesus is paying the price of that ransom. Enduring the hell of God’s wrath which you deserve. Which I deserve. Which all of those gathered around him that day deserved. The hell which all of sinful humanity deserves for our rebellion against our Creator—Jesus bore it on the cross.

No wonder, then, that in the culmination of such suffering Jesus cries out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachtani?” — “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It’s a plea of brokenness, of sorrow, of desolation. He has borne the curse of God, endured hell, and in the midst of that suffering feels something foreign to his experience: distance from the Father.

Now, let’s be clear: the Father wasn’t absent. But his presence on Golgotha was not one of blessing his Son. It was not the voice of pleasure we hear at Jesus’ baptism or at the Transfiguration. His presence was an ominous darkness filled with silence. Where is the statement “this is my beloved Son”? Where is the statement of love, “in whom I am well-pleased”? Where is the admonition to on-lookers, “listen to him”? Silence. Darkness. The Son is forsaken.

The onlookers at the cross misunderstood Jesus, thinking he was crying out to Elijah. There were Jewish traditions which said that Elijah would come and help those in need, and those around the cross were apparently curious to see if he might show up. One person grabbed a sponge full of sour wine, basically the first century version of an electrolyte packet, and gave Jesus a drink.

But he didn’t hang there and wait for Elijah to come. He cried out with a loud voice: Mark doesn’t record what Jesus cried out, though piecing things together from the other gospels, it seems likely that here he says “It is finshed”, and/or, “Father, into your hands I commit my Spirit.” Mark is less concerned with precisely what Jesus said here, and more with the two-fold effect: first, we see the eternal effect: in v38, the temple curtain is torn in two, from top to bottom. There were two curtains in the temple, one between the main temple and the holy place—separating the priests from the people—and another, between the holy place and the holy of holies. Mark doesn’t differentiate for us which curtain it was which was torn. I’ve always assumed he was speaking of the inner veil, which would indicate Jesus opening the way to the Father apart from the sacrificial system. One of the commentators I read this week argued pretty strongly for it being the outer veil, which would place a stronger emphasis on God’s judgement of the Herodian temple—certainly a theme in Mark’s gospel, as Jesus predicted its complete destruction at the beginning of chapter 13.

In either case, though, the point comes back to this: Jesus’ death opened the way to direct access to God. We don’t need bloody sacrifices of sheep or bulls or goats, because the perfect Lamb of God has spilled his blood on our behalf. We don’t need a physical temple for priests to minister in and offer such sacrifices, because Jesus himself is the temple, the meeting place of heaven and earth. And we don’t need priests, because Jesus is our great high priest, and has made all of his people ministers of the New Covenant he initiated with his blood.

The darkness Jesus endured on the cross was a swallowing up of the greatest darkness we face: the reality of our own sin and its eternal consequences. He opened access to, and made reconciliation with, the Father possible—but not merely possible, he made it a guarantee for everyone who trusts in the sufficiency of his work in their place.

The roman centurion standing by didn’t grasp all of that. But he had watched a lot of men die. He had seen poorly, and he had seen men die well. But he had never seen the like of the man. And so the second effect of Jesus’ death which we see in this text is its immediate effect on the man standing there: “Truly this man was the Son of God!” He wouldn’t have all the theological content to go with that statement that you or I would. But he would know that Caesar claimed to be the Son of God. He would know that Caesar was the most powerful man on earth. And he sees that whatever Caesar claims, this man actually has.

It’s a significant feature of Mark’s gospel that the theme which he states at the beginning—that this is the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God (Mark 1:1)—is brought full circle with those very words “truly this man was the Son of God” carried on the lips not of the Jewish elite, or the religious leaders, but of a Roman soldier. In enduring the darkness of God’s wrath on Golgotha, Jesus has shone the light of truth into this man’s life.

Helpers Rendered Helpless

But that Roman centurion was far from the only person witnessing Jesus’ death. Gathering at some distance, Mark tells us there was a group of women. He lists for us the names of three: Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and Joses, and Salome. Mary Magdalene is most known to us because in John’s gospel we read of her interaction with Jesus after the resurrection. Salome was the wife of Zebedee, and the mother of James and John. She is probably Jesus’ aunt. The second Mary listed by Mark in this passage, called the mother of James the younger and Joses, is probably the same woman referred to in the other gospels as Mary the wife of Clopas. Apparently both her husband and sons were known to the early church, and it probably depended upon which group was being spoken to which was a better way to identify her.

What Mark tells us about these women is important: they had followed him down to Jerusalem, but this was hardly the beginning of their interactions with Jesus. They had followed him while in Galilee, and had ministered to him there.

Here is a pretty straightforward observation, but it still bears our noticing: no ministry —even the ministry of Jesus—happens without the hard work of women, much of it behind the scenes. This is important to remember, perhaps especially in a church where we believe the bible teaches that leadership and teaching roles are reserved for men. That reality in no way diminishes the value or importance or necessity of gifted and active women for vital and healthy ministry to take place. These women had ministered to Jesus through their service. If this was necessary in the ministry of Jesus, how much more for us today!

Now ladies, none of that is a newsflash to you. But put yourself, then, in the sandals of these women standing near the cross. They had followed this man, the king of the Jews, the promised Messiah, you had heard him teach and watched him heal. You had made arrangements with other ladies in your networks of family and friends to make sure Jesus and his disciples had a place to stay from town to town, you had made meals for this group of men, mostly in their late teens and twenties—heaven knows how much work that was—you had been able to help at every point along the way.

And now, here you stand, helpless. You have ministered to the Lord over the course of days and months and maybe years, and now, in his hour of greatest need, you stand helpless.

You’ve been there, haven’t you? When life takes a dark turn, and someone you love desperately needs your help—and there is absolutely nothing you can do. Nothing that is, except sit there and cry.

There is a temptation in those moments to feel like a failure. To feel as if you have dropped the ball. You’ve let your loved one down, you’ve let yourself down, you’ve let Jesus down. Dear friend, you can’t let Jesus down. You weren’t holding him up.

When it came to helping Jesus on the cross, there was nothing these women could do: and Jesus didn’t expect from them the impossible. There are days of darkness in your life when you feel helpless because you are helpless. And God does not hold that against you, he is not expecting anything from you in those moments of deepest grief other than to simply grieve. Sometimes even the best of helpers are helpless.

Taking Courage

Mark shifts his camera to one more character in this passage. Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council. The council likely refers to the Sanhedrin—the very body of men who had condemned Jesus in that illegal nighttime trial and turned him over to Pilate for execution. He was a man looking for the kingdom of God, and this explains his being drawn to Jesus—the king of the Jews.

Daylight is beginning to fade, there are only a few short hours before the Sabbath would begin at sunset. It was very common in cases of crucifixion for the bodies to be left on the cross for scavengers and carrion birds, but the Jews had requested that these bodies be taken down before the sun went down because the next day was a high feast day (John 19:31). Usually, then, the bodies would be taken to a place far outside the city and buried away from the view of polite society, although families could usually make a request for the body of a loved one. But Jesus’ family is nowhere to be found. Likely his mother knew she didn’t have the ability to give her son a proper burial in that limited time, and most likely had no resources of her own to even secure a tomb. And Jesus’ brothers are nowhere to be found.

Enter Joseph. This man, a member of the council, wealthy and well-respected, “took courage” the text tells us, and goes to Pilate. Why did this require courage? First of all, because to be identified with Jesus would connect you with his “crimes.” He’s essentially going to Pilate and being identified with someone who was just executed for sedition.

Now, of course, Pilate knows Jesus wasn’t guilty of any such crime, so maybe that risk is mitigated. Which brings us to the second and far more substantial area of courage required of Joseph: courage before his countrymen. By being identified with Jesus, the now-defeated enemy of the Sanhedrin, the Pharisees, and all of the Jerusalem elite, Joseph is placing himself in opposition to all of those in his social circles. He was essentially signing up to be a social outcast. And he is doing so after Jesus no longer seems ascendent. This is not a bandwagoner. This is a believer. Friends, Joseph’s actions took real courage.

When Pilate hears the request, he is by the quick death, but once he confirmed with the centurion that Jesus was, in fact, dead, he granted Joseph the body. Joseph then took Jesus’ body and, though Mark doesn’t explicitly say this, we can assume he washed it; then he wrapped the body in a linen shroud which he had purchased. He then lays Jesus in a tomb which he either already owned or also purchased. The way the stone is described indicates that this was a tomb intended for the rich—while most tombs had rocks designed to be inserted into the slot and seal the entrance, a few 1st century tombs have been found which have a rolling stone. This large cut stone would have been set inside a grove and been placed in such a way that one or two men could roll it into place, as it was on a downhill grade. But it would take several strong men to roll it back up and out of the way. Thus, we have a fulfillment of Isaiah 53:9 that his grave would be with a rich man in his death.

Joseph took all of these actions at great personal cost. Literally, in that he had to purchase the shroud, purchase the tomb, and probably pay servants to execute all of these actions. It’s highly unlikely that he could have done this all working alone. And moreso, as we already mentioned, at great social and political cost, as well.

What was his motivation? We don’t get a first personal narrative from Joseph of Arimethea, and the narrator doesn’t tell us his motivations, either. We simply see his actions. And his actions speak loudly to a love, honor, and respect that is motivated—even in the darkness of loss and seeming defeat—to do the next right thing.

The women at the foot of the cross genuinely were helpless—they could do nothing for Jesus’ body with the time and financial and physical constraints they faced. But Joseph could. And so he did. This is another lesson for us in the darkness of our darkest days. Sometimes there is nothing to do. But sometimes there is something to do, some obvious and in front of you responsibility to take up. And in those moments, the thing to do is to step into that gap and do what needs to be done. Joseph could make sure Jesus’ body was honored, and he spared no effort, expense, or public criticism to make sure it was taken care of.

In his doing so, he afforded the women an opportunity to do what they could—mark the place where Jesus lay, so that they could come back Sunday morning.

He Knows Your Frame

Friends, there was no darker day in human history than that Friday afternoon outside of Jerusalem. There, the Lamb of God was taking away the sins of the world—taking them into his body, on the tree, and absorbing the wrath of God for you and for me. There, his dearest friends could do nothing to help him as he suffered. He bore that darkness alone.

But friends, that darkness lifted. Not immediately. The women still wept. Joseph, I’m sure, wept as he and his servants cleaned and wrapped and buried the broken body of the Lord. But when you are in your darkest moments, when you are wracked by questioning and fear and disappointment with God, I want you to remember: we have a Savior who has been in the darkness, too. He is not surprised when there is nothing you can do; though he will often leave you something to do, as small as it may feel. But when you feel the darkness will not lift, remember: our Savior has descended into hell, and he knows the way out of the grave. Friday was dark. Saturday was bleak. But Sunday will come.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

Remsen Bible Fellowship, 06/22/2025

Text:

Mark 14:66-72, And as Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant girls of the high priest came, 67 and seeing Peter warming himself, she looked at him and said, “You also were with the Nazarene, Jesus.” 68 But he denied it, saying, “I neither know nor understand what you mean.” And he went out into the gateway and the rooster crowed. 69 And the servant girl saw him and began again to say to the bystanders, “This man is one of them.” 70 But again he denied it. And after a little while the bystanders again said to Peter, “Certainly you are one of them, for you are a Galilean.” 71 But he began to invoke a curse on himself and to swear, “I do not know this man of whom you speak.” 72 And immediately the rooster crowed a second time. And Peter remembered how Jesus had said to him, “Before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.” And he broke down and wept.

I remember that morning alongside the Sea of Galilee. My back was sore from hauling in nets full of fish throughout the night before. We were finishing up with a few more casts before the sun rose and the fish went into deeper waters. Our fishing partners had already pulled ashore and were mending their nets.

It was my brother who looked down the beach and saw him approaching. We had met this man a few months ago when we were down south listening to a wilderness preacher—the same preacher had pointed my brother to another man—a wandering teacher from a podunk town. And the preacher told my brother to follow this other man instead. After my brother met him, he came and found me, claiming he had met God’s Anointed One. That made me wonder about his sanity—but I went with him and met this supposed Anointed of the Lord. This guy was from Nazareth. Nazareth, of all places.

But then he spoke to me. And he didn’t simply speak, he spoke with the weight of authority. And he gave me a new name: “Peter.”

But we were back in Galilee now. Back to fishing. Back to real life. Back to my father and my wife. Back to life as Simon, son of John.

I wondered what Jesus was doing there along the shore. As he drew nearer, he called out to us—“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” There was that authority. How could we do anything but listen? How could we not follow?

That next Sabbath he came with us to the synagogue service in Capernaum. His teaching astounded everyone who heard—that authority. The weight of his words. We’d never heard anything like it. Then a demon-possessed man came bursting into the synagogue, saying crazy things—calling Jesus the “Holy One of God”. Jesus rebuked the spirit and healed the man.

That night, we returned to my home. My mother-in-law had been sick for some time, the fever left her bedridden. As we entered the house, we told Jesus about her situation. He came and took her by the hand—I thought maybe he would pray over her. Instead, he lifted her up. Then she got up—and made the evening meal! The word spread so quickly of this, and the incident at the synagogue, that everyone with any kind of illness—physical, mental, or spiritual—was gathering at the door and trying to burst in. They just wanted to see and hear—and experience—this Jesus.

It was a similar situation a few weeks later, after we had gone on a preaching tour. We were gathered back in my home and the crowds pressed in. But then part of my ceiling started to fall in. People were pressed in so tight to hear Jesus teach that I was stuck there, watching my ceiling fall on the heads of all these people—and then it opened up. A group of men on my roof dropped a paralyzed man down in front of Jesus. And then Jesus did what no one expected—he told the man his sins had been forgiven. The teachers of the law were scandalized. So Jesus proved he had the authority to do it—and healed the paralytic right then and there. That man picked up his bed, and the crowd parted so that he could carry it home.

Friends, that was just the start of the marvels. His teaching continued to amaze and even stun those within earshot—and those who heard it second hand. He claimed to be Lord, even over the Sabbath! After he had called the twelve—those of us whom he named Apostles, or sent ones—he told us that in spreading the word we were scattering seed. And though we had a responsibility to scatter that seed of the gospel message, the news of his kingdom, we really couldn’t control what kind of soil it landed in. But then he encouraged us by saying that true kingdom growth was often slow and hard to see—just like those seeds in the ground. But when it took root in the good soil, it would bear fruit. His words were so authoritative—so compellingly true—they continued to demand our attention.

And he continued to heal. And as amazing as the healings were—a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years healed in a touch, a little girl who had died being brought back to life—they weren’t the only miracles we saw. One night we were sailing across the Sea of Galilee, and he was asleep in the stern of the boat. The storm picked up, and then began to rage, and we all thought we were going to drown. And Jesus kept sleeping. We woke him up and asked if he even cared what was going to happen to us! But he didn’t panic. Instead he rebuked the sea—telling it to be at peace. And then he rebuked us, and asked why we were afraid. What kind of man is this?

And his authority went beyond humanity. Remember that man in the synagogue? Well Jesus didn’t simply have power over one demon at a time. After he calmed the storm, we landed in the Gentile region of the Decapolis, and were greeted by a man who was possessed by a whole legion of demons. But that demonic horde could not overthrow the Lord Jesus. They begged him for mercy—and so he cast them out of the man, and permitted them to go into the herd of pigs. Jesus was cleansing the land of its impurity.

And the crowds continued to flock to him, even if it meant wandering in out of the way places. They would come in masses, and sit for days to listen to him speak. Twice he fed multitudes with nothing more than a small lunch. He fed the five thousand with five loaves and two fish, and we had 12 baskets of leftovers. Later on, he fed the four thousand with seven loaves, and we had seven baskets leftover. His compassion was as obvious as his authority.

But as we approached the end of that third year together, the winds of his ministry seemed to change. He took us away to the north, and started to ask questions. Questions like, “who do people say that I am?” We gave him, as best we could, an honest rundown of the rumors—maybe John the Baptist, maybe Elijah, maybe one of the other prophets. But when he asked for our assessment, I shouted what we all thought: “you are the Christ!” And he told us to keep this truth quiet for the time being.

It was then that he started to teach us plainly what was going to happen to him—that he would be betrayed into the hands of sinful men, that he would be crucified, and then after three days rise again. At least three times he made this expressly clear. I remember especially the first time it came up—I tried to rebuke him for saying it. I didn’t see how the Messiah could possibly be killed. I’ll never forget what he said to me: “Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” Those words still sting.

It was just six days later, still in that region to the north of Galilee, when he took John and James and I up on a high mountain. There we saw Jesus transfigured before our eyes, and I frankly have yet to find words to describe it. With him, at first, we saw Elijah and Moses—I don’t know how I knew it was Elijah and Moses, but friends, I knew—and I couldn’t help but start running my mouth, suggesting we build some tabernacles up there for them. But I was silenced when a cloud descended over us, and the voice of God thundered forth: “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.” If Jesus didn’t speak with authority enough, now God himself was telling us—telling me—to shut up and listen.

These last months of Jesus’ life were full of some of his strangest teaching. He said it was easier for a camel to squeeze through the eye of a needle than for the rich to enter heaven. He told us we had to be like little children if we wanted to enter his kingdom. He told us that the way to greatness in his kingdom is to be a servant of everyone.

And then came the week of his suffering. The tension hung in the air. He rode into town on a donkey, clearly calling attention to Zechariah’s prophecy of a coming king. But he wasn’t acting like the king we expected. When we had dinner in Bethany, Mary came in and poured her most treasured possession—her jar of spikenard—all over his head and feet. He said this had to do with his burial. There he went, talking about death again. I didn’t correct him this time—I didn’t really want to be called Satan again.

Finally, it was Thursday night. We gathered in the upper room to celebrate the Passover together. There at the table, Jesus continued to speak strangely. He told us the bread was not simply bread. It was his body—a body which was broken for us. What could that mean? And the cup of blessing—he called it his blood of the covenant, poured out for many. The wine was his blood? His blood was poured out? It was connected to God’s covenant? We were used to Jesus speaking cryptically, but this seemed over the top, even for him.

We were still confused when he said it was time to go for a walk. So we sang a hymn, and then headed to the Mount of Olives. On the way there, he delivered a blow which none of us saw coming—he told us: “You will all fall away.” He quoted the words from Zechariah’s scroll about the striking of the Shepherd and the scattering of the sheep. But I couldn’t stand to be so insulted, regardless of what Scripture he was going to quote. I told him even if everyone else fell away, there was no way that I would. Did he not remember all the times when he had offended the crowds, and we stayed? Did he not remember all the rumors we had heard about the Pharisees and Sadducees wanting him dead—and did he not see us still here with him? How could he accuse us of unfaithfulness? But when I protested, he looked at me specifically and told me that before the rooster crowed twice, I would denied him three times.

I couldn’t believe my ears. I protested again—I was willing to go with him to death! How could I ever deny my precious Lord?

Then we came to the garden. He asked for James and John and I to walk on with him. To be near him and to pray.

But it had been such a long week. We wanted to stay up and pray. But every time he withdrew, we fell asleep. I felt so bad. So small. He obviously was distraught about something, and I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.

The last time he woke us up, there was a sound in the garden. A crowd was coming. Torches, clubs, swords. And there at the front—what? could it really be?—there was Judas. And as he kissed Jesus on the cheek—oh that dog—men stepped forward to lay hands on Jesus. I grabbed my sword and swung at Malchus, but I’m no soldier: instead of killing him I cut off his ear. But Jesus stopped me, and healed the man’s ear—right then and there. And as he spoke, giving himself into their custody, we were all overcome by fear. I dropped my sword. And we fled. We ran away. We scattered. We fell away, just like he said. Why had I doubted the authority of those words?

But I wasn’t going to let that be the end of the story. Once I was out of the garden, and got some space, I gained a little clarity. I’ll follow them, I thought to myself. So I followed at a distance as they went to the houses of Annas, and then Caiaphas. Outside of the High Priest’s home, in the courtyard, there was a charcoal fire burning. I walked up to warm myself in the cool spring night.

Then a little servant girl came up to me: “You were with the Nazarene, Jesus.” “I don’t know what you mean.” Best to play dumb, I thought. I went over by the gate, hoping to avoid any more uncomfortable conversations. And a rooster crowed.

The little girl caught sight of me again, though, and started saying to the people around that I had been with Jesus. I denied it again. What could I say? How could I let them know I had spent three years traveling with a man now facing death?

A little while later a man said “I know that accent, you’re Galilean—you’re definitely one of his followers!”

I lost my cool, and started to curse and swear up and down that I did not know this Jesus. And when I finally shut my trap enough to hear again, there in the pale dark of dawn, the rooster crowed. And I remembered what Jesus had said: “before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.” Why had I doubted the authority of these words?

Friends, what could I do? I had betrayed my Lord. I had failed Jesus as a follower. I had failed him as a friend. I had fallen away. And as I thought, I remembered his words when we first told us he would be arrested and killed:

‏

Mark 8:34-38, And calling the crowd to him with his disciples, he said to them, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 35 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it. 36 For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? 37 For what can a man give in return for his soul? 38 For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him will the Son of Man also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

When I thought about it, I broke down and wept.

I had been ashamed of Jesus—would he be ashamed of me? That’s what I deserved.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’ve often thought about that night. My failure was greater than all the other disciples save one. Of course, you know the story of Judas as well as you know mine. I’ve often wondered, why did our stories end differently? Of course, in some sense we can never know. The Lord doesn’t tell us everything that happens in our own stories, let alone the stories of others. But when I consider how Judas’ life ended, and what happened that night, I am struck by one difference: We were both sorry for what we had done—but his sorrow drove him further away from Jesus, and mine led me back to him.

My friend Paul wrote about this in his second letter to the church at Corinth:

For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. [2 Corinthians 7:10]

That was literally the difference between my story and Judas’. His sorrow led him to death—he would not humble himself before Jesus to ask for forgiveness and new life. But, by the grace of God, the Lord used my sorrow to bring me to repentance for my sinful failure. And when your sorrow over sin leads you to Jesus, then that sorrow is God’s tool to bring life to your soul. Godly sorrow leads to salvation without regret.

Friends, your life is different from mine. But as my friend Juna likes to say, “I know something that is true”: you also have occasion for sorrow over sin. To be sad because you have failed Jesus, and dishonored him.

Maybe that is an unclear feeling to you. You feel bad and don’t know why. If you have not yet recognized Jesus as the Lord, then it starts there. Recognize his authority—and then repent of your whole life of disobedience. Repent of your sins, and be baptized! Submit to his authority, and be saved! Publicly identify with him in confession of faith and baptism in water!

And if you are already his follower, then hear this: he knows there will be times when you will cower in fear rather than boldly declaring your allegiance to him. And you need to know in those moments that you are not the first, and you will not be the last. You ought to mourn over those failures. It is right to weep over such failures. You should even feel shame when you fail to honor Jesus as Lord. But do not stay in that place of shame, do not wallow in your failure, do not wallow in your sorrow. Let your grief turn into repentance. Turn around, and head back to Jesus. Humble yourself under his merciful and mighty hand, and ask for him to forgive you. And to increase your boldness and faithfulness. And praise him for the riches of his grace.

Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls. [1 Peter 1:8-9]

I flooded my bed with tears that day. I had failed Jesus. But friends—he’s never failed me. So when you fail, don’t run. Go back to him, seventy times seven. He’s already paid for your sin, and he will welcome you back with his nail-pierced hands.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

More than than They Bargained For

Mark 14:53-62, Remsen Bible Fellowship, 06/15/2025

Introduction

Revelation 1:5b-7, “To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood and has made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him. Even so. Amen.”

Turn with me in your Bibles to Mark’s gospel, chapter 14.

They had all run. Fled. Turned tail and disappeared into the darkness in a desperate attempt to avoid being taken, with him, by the authorities. The mob with their swords and clubs marched him off into that same night, headed back into the city.

Their destination? The home of Ciaphas, the high priest. There, in his large upper room, the council of elders and chief priests and scribes came together. The seventy men of the Sanhedrin, not meeting in the market halls as they normally would, but instead gathered in this home. No gathering of this size could rightly be called secret, but the darkness of the event was pregnant with meaning. The workers of darkness had gathered under the cover of night in order to do the works of darkness. Verse 53, “And they led Jesus to the high priest. And all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes came together.”

But for the reader, we feel a flicker of hope when we read the following verse. 54, “And Peter had followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest. And he was sitting with the guards and warming himself at the fire.” Here is Peter, who had boldly pledged his allegiance to Jesus in v29 & v31, had impulsively cut off an ear in v47, and then turned tail with the rest of the disciples in v50—he’s back. He followed—yes, at a distance, but followed nonetheless. He has not utterly abandoned his Lord.

But he is hanging back. Outside the home of Ciaphas the high priest, Peter stands out here warming his hands against the chill of a cool spring night. Far enough to, hopefully, not be noticed. But near enough to hear what’s happening inside.

And what’s happening inside could best be described as a banana court, a proceeding that has nothing to do with the execution of justice and everything to do with looking for a pretense to convict. The courtroom has more in common with a lynch mob than a hall of justice. The chief priests and the council weren’t looking for the truth—they were looking for a pretense: V55-56,

Now the chief priests and the whole council were seeking testimony against Jesus to put him to death, but they found none. For many bore false witness against him, but their testimony did not agree.

They sought testimony to condemn him, but they couldn’t find any. The reason is simple, and Pilate will identify it in the following chapter (15:14): Jesus had never done or said anything evil. He had never broken any law, let alone a law which carried the death penalty.

That doesn’t stop our enterprising adversaries from trying to get witnesses for their cause, though. You don’t need much imagination to picture the same people who had paid Judas to turn Jesus over also finding a whole stable of false witnesses—many bore false witness against him—but the problem was they hadn’t paid enough money to get their story straight. We can be understanding, of course: they were in a hurry, what with this hurried nighttime courtroom scene. No one had time between changing out of their pajamas and rushing down to Ciaphas’ house to stop for a story-coordination meeting.

Mark even gives us an example of one piece of false testimony in v57-59,

And some stood up and bore false witness against him, saying, “We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.’” Yet even about this their testimony did not agree.

Now, if you are familiar with the gospels, and the words Jesus spoke, what these witnesses say might sound familiar—you might catch yourself thinking, wait, didn’t Jesus say something like this? Are these false witnesses wrong? And the answer is yes, they are wrong. And that’s why they can’t agree—because their details are all jumbled up. Jesus certainly said some very offensive and shocking things concerning the temple, but never once did he claim that he would tear it down himself.

What the accusers seem to be doing is mixing and mashing together two separate sayings of Jesus. The first is found in John chapter 2. The setting in this chapter is that Jesus has just entered—and then forcefully cleared—the temple. In verse 15 of John 2, Jesus makes a whip out of cords, and then drives the sheep, oxen, money-changers, and pigeons out of the temple courts. He then proceeds to dump out the money at the exchange booth, and toss their tables. He’s made a rather grand entrance to Jerusalem, you might say.

And the Jews—a term that, in John’s gospel, usually refers to the leadership class in Jerusalem…the very same men who have Jesus on trial three years later—demand a “sign” for “doing these things”. Jesus replies with these words: “destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (v19). Now, does he say anything in there about him destroying the temple? No, in fact, he lays the impetus for that action at their feet. The Jerusalem leadership class will be the ones who destroy God’s temple. But what does Jesus say he will do? “In three days, I will raise it up.” And the gospel writer tells us two verses later that “he was speaking about the temple of his body.” He predicted that the leadership class would kill his body. But not permanently.

Nonetheless, you could see where the accusers might get the idea about a temple not made with hands, and the fact that Jesus would build it inside of three days. The other place we find Jesus speaking about the destruction of the temple is earlier in Mark, in chapter 13. In Mark 13:2, Jesus tells his disciples that not one stone will be left upon another, in the day of the temple’s destruction. There he clearly was speaking about the destruction of the temple “made by hands.” Nonetheless, does he claim that he will personally be the one doing the destroying? No. Though, as I argued when we went through Mark 13, Jesus is the Lord of history and therefore superintended the destruction of the temple, specifically as an act of judgement upon the Jewish people for their rejection of the Messiah, he still was not claiming that he was going to show up personally with a sledge and a jackhammer. Rather, he used the Roman General Titus to accomplish that fact some forty years later.

So, what we find in the gospels is that Jesus did predict the downfall of the temple. And he did predict his own bodily resurrection from the dead. But never once did he threaten any crime, nor did he violate the law of God.

The Sanhedrin knows that Jesus is innocent. The witnesses know that Jesus is innocent. The dogs and the cats in the vicinity know that Jesus is innocent—everybody knows. Mark makes repeated reference to the fact that the witness testimony didn’t line up.

So what kind of brilliant defense does Jesus marshal against these false accusations? Short answer: none. Verse 60 and on in to v61 says, “And the high priest stood up in the midst and asked Jesus, ‘Have you no answer to make? What is it that these men testify against you?’ But he remained silent and made no answer.” Reading this scene reminds me of Isaiah 53:7, “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.”

In standing silent and simply receiving the hurled insults and accusations of the religious and political insiders, Jesus fulfilled in part the picture of the suffering servant of Isaiah 53. Further, I think he is putting on beautiful display that truth of Proverbs 26:4—“Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him yourself.” Jesus knows these men don’t care about the truth of any of their accusations—why would he waste breath in correcting them?

It’s not the point of the passage here, but a useful note in our hyper-offendable age: you don’t have to answer every accusation, you don’t have to correct every wrong thought or idea even if the falsehood is aimed against you. Andie has joked that on my headstone she will place the words, “Well, actually…” — so I’m speaking from experience when I say that there is a temptation to vindicate yourself, to fix all the bad thinking, to refute every falsehood, and to really be under the illusion that such actions and words will amount to something more than a waste of breath—and usually that’s just not true. Especially if you are wasting time arguing with people in comment sections or on Facebook, save yourself some gray hair and just stop. Jesus is a model here. They throw false accusations against him, the chief priest knows their false but is hoping that he will respond with something they can prosecute for—but Jesus gives him nothing.

Turn

Nothing, that is, until he asks a direct, pointed, question: v61b, “Again the high priest asked him, ‘Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?”

As we’re reading this, the questions can fill our mind—how will Jesus answer this one? Will he remain silent, still? Mark’s gospel has often been called the gospel of secrecy, because Jesus’ identity as the Christ, the Jewish Messiah—while clear to the reader from the very first verse—is hidden from so many until the back end of the book. Jesus repeatedly silences those who would spread the news of his identity, from those he has healed of diseases, to demons. So how will he respond to this direct question from the high priest?

Jesus drops a theological and cultural bomb in the middle of the faux-court scene. “Are you the Christ?”, asks Ciaphas. “And Jesus said, ‘I am, and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven’” (v62). That might sound like standard Jesus-imagery to us, if we’ve grown up or had much exposure to the history of Christian art. But friends, let me give you the technical theological term for this in the 1st century: thems is fightin’ words.

You can see that in the high priest’s response, as well as that of those around. Mark 14:63-65,

And the high priest tore his garments and said, “What further witnesses do we need? You have heard his blasphemy. What is your decision?” And they all condemned him as deserving death. And some began to spit on him and to cover his face and to strike him, saying to him, “Prophesy!” And the guards received him with blows.

Why did the high priest tear his garments—a formal sign of mourning and distress? Why did the council condemn Jesus as worthy of death on account of his two-sentence testimony? Why did those around feel justified in striking, beating, and mocking the Lord? Why the violent reaction to Jesus’ simple answer?

Because they understood his claim. And they hated it.

Jesus answer, “I am”, in response to whether he was the Christ, was a bold claim to make. But when Ciaphas is asking if he is the Son of the Blessed, that is, the Son of God, he doesn’t mean that in the Christian sense. To a first century Jew, Son of God simply means the king from the line of David whom God will treat as a son. I say, “simply”, even though this itself is an amazing claim—many false christs had come before—but in saying simply, what I mean is that Jesus was not, with those two words, claiming to be God. To simply say he was the messiah might have been called blasphemy, but it might have simply been called a lie. It was what he said next that got their blood to boiling.

When Jesus claimed that they would see him seated at the right hand of Power, he is clearly saying that he will be seated at the right of of YHWH, the Lord God. This is a reference to Psalm 110:1, “The LORD says to my Lord: ‘Sit a my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool.’”

In that Psalm, David sees the LORD (all capital letters, the proper name for God in the Old Testament) speaking to his Lord (capital L, lowercase ord, that is, the One who rules over David) saying, “sit at my right hand.” If we want to put this in NT terminology—which Jesus explicitly does in this passage—this is God the Father saying to God the Son, “sit here, at the right hand of my power.” This is only a temporary place, though. He is seated until all his enemies are made a footstool. This idea is carried on in verse 5, “The Lord [lowercase ord, God the Son, Jesus Christ] is at your right hand; he will shatter kings on the day of his wrath.”

The overall idea from these two verses in Psalm 110 is that the Son will be seated at the Father’s right hand, until the time comes when he executes judgement on all his enemies. Which brings us to the second place from which Jesus draws his imagery—Daniel chapter seven.

I’ve referenced Daniel 7 verses 13 & 14 a lot over the years, in large part because it’s the place from which Jesus draws his favorite self-designation—Son of Man. But this morning I want to back up and start reading in verse nine. In this vision, Daniel is shown the heavenly courtroom. Daniel 7:9-14,

“As I looked,

thrones were placed,

and the Ancient of Days took his seat;

his clothing was white as snow,

and the hair of his head like pure wool;

his throne was fiery flames;

its wheels were burning fire.

A stream of fire issued

and came out from before him;

a thousand thousands served him,

and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him;

the court sat in judgement,

and the books were opened.

“I looked then because of the sound of the great words that the horn was speaking. And as I looked, the beast was killed, and its body destroyed and given over to be burned with fire. And as for the rest of the beasts, their dominion was taken away, but their lives were prolonged for a season and a time.

“I saw in the night visions,

and behold, with the clouds of heaven

there came one like a son of man,

and he came to the Ancient of Days

and was presented before him.

And to him was given dominion

and glory and a kingdom,

that all peoples, nations, and languages

should serve him;

his dominion is an everlasting dominion,

which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one

that shall not be destroyed.”

That’s a longer passage than I usually like to use for a cross-reference. And it’s weird. If you are feeling guilty for thinking it’s weird, don’t—the following verses tell us Daniel himself was pretty upset by it.

But it’s important for understanding Jesus’ words before the high priest. Jesus, when he says he will come with the clouds of heaven, is explicitly tying himself to this image of the son of man appearing before God the Father, the Ancient of Days. He is claiming for himself authority and dominion over all rulers, nations, and languages.

And he is doing so in the context of judgement. Verses 9-12 of Daniel 7 and a vision of the furious wrath of the perfect and Holy God. He takes his seat in heaven’s throneroom, and the fury of his judgement pours forth upon the earth, swallowing up his enemies.

When we combine that image with the one in Psalm 110, we get a picture very much like the one in Revelation 19:11ff, where one called The Word of God comes forth executing God’s judgement upon the world.

I know that’s a content dump, so let’s try and tie it together as neatly as possible:

Jesus is standing in the makeshift courtroom of the Sanherdin, being falsely accused, and pointedly questioned by the High Priest. When it comes right down to the point—the question of whether or not Jesus is the Messiah—he answers no simply with a “yes”, though he starts there. But he goes on to a make a claim that he is on his way to the right hand of the Heavenly Judge, and that he has authority over the banana court he’s standing in, as well as over every court—legitimate or not—which ever has or ever will exist. His authority stretches over all of humanity, over all of the angels and demons, gods with a lowercase g. To borrow a phrase from a Dutch theologian, there is not one square inch of all creation over which the Lord Jesus does not cry out, “Mine!” Jesus is claiming that he will bring the Sanherdin—and all of rebellious humanity—under God’s judgement.

In essence, Jesus’ claim to be the Son of Man who will come on the clouds flips the entire situation on its head—who is really on trial here, Jesus, or the Jewish authorities? Who is really in danger of prosecution?

Conclusion

When set in this light, it’s pretty easy to see why the council responded as they did. If Jesus were claiming these things falsely, he would, in fact, be guilty of blasphemy. But if it’s true—and they had every evidential reason to know he was telling the truth—then they were in great peril themselves.

And so they responded the way many of us do when backed into a corner. They lashed out. In anger, in fury, and in violence. And that’s where the text leaves us. Even the guards are receiving him with blows.

The question this text poses to us is a simple one: how will you respond to the claims of Jesus? Not the Jesus of your imagination, not the Jesus of the paintings in the church you grew up in, not the Jesus of the story bibles: but the real, living, Lord Jesus who even now says that All authority in heaven and on earth has been delivered to him (Matthew 28:18-20). The Lord Jesus who will one day come to judge the living and the dead. How will you respond to him?

If you respond in faith, trusting in the blood he shed on the cross to cover your sins, placing your hope in the resurrection life he promises to all of those who love him, then his coming in judgement is actually good news for you. That’s what those verses from Revelation one which I opened with teach us. If you repent of your sins, bow to Jesus as Lord, and receive him as your Savior, then he has made you a part of his kingdom. More than just a part, he has made you a priest, a minister of his kingdom—someone with direct access to him by prayer and the word.

But if you refuse, if you join the Sanherdin in hardening your heart against him, then the news of his judgement is hard and fearful. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. And friends, Jesus is the Living God. Bow your life to him.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

We Ran, He Stands

Mar 14:26-52, Remsen Bible Fellowship, 06/08/2025

Introduction

How confident are you in your ability to follow Jesus? To stay with him? To stay true in the face of trials, temptations, and the troubles of life?

How confident should you be? Those are the sort of questions which confront us as we approach our passage this morning.

We’re taking a longer section of text, verses 26-52, and so I want to examine it in four scenes.

Who has the right to be confident?

Scene one: Verses 26-31,

And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. And Jesus said to them, “You will all fall away, for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.” Peter said to him, “Even though they all fall away, I will not.” And Jesus said to him, “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.” But he said emphatically, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you.” And they all said the same.

If you recall from a couple of weeks ago, Jesus and the disciples are celebrating the Passover meal, but as they take the bread and pass it around, Jesus shifts the focus. No longer are they to look at the unleavened loaf and think of the haste with which Israel left Egypt, but rather they should take this bread and consider the body of Jesus, broken in their place. No longer is the cup of blessing to look back simply on the history of God’s preservation of his people, but it is now to remind Jesus’ disciples of his blood shed in their place. His blood which seals the New Covenant of redemption.

When the meal ended, they sang a hymn—probably one of the Psalms from Psalm 114-118. As I read those Psalms, and then this narrative, I really wonder if it was Psalm 116 or Psalm 118, both of which are especially appropriate.

Then, after singing this hymn, they head out for the Mount of Olives. And on their journey, Jesus makes what must have been a startling announcement: “you will all fall away.” Imagine we were cleaning up one Sunday and I said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “you’re all going to give up on the faith for a while.” I think most of you would be surprised by such a presumptuous statement, and I’m guessing a number of you would be (rightly) offended.

But I’m a fallible human being, and it would be presumptuous of me to say such a thing, Jesus is the perfect Son of God, the omniscient Lord of the disciples. He’s not blowing smoke, and he’s not simply trying to shock them. He is, in fact, making an accurate prediction which was intended, at least in part, to prepare his disciples for the hours and days to come. We see that in what he says next: “But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”

The disciples don’t buy it, though. They were confident in themselves. Peter (of course Peter!) speaks up—even if they all fall, I won’t, Jesus! For Peter’s extra measure of boldness Jesus gives an extra dose of reality: before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times. How jarring! This is the same Peter who refused to leave, though the crowds abandoned Jesus, because he knew Jesus had the words of eternal life. The same Peter who walked on water. The same Peter who confessed that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God. And Jesus looks him square in the eye and says, “you’re going to deny you even know me: three times tonight.” You might understand Peter’s reply—“even if I must die with you, I won’t deny you!”

And the rest of the disciples felt the same way. They had been loyal these three years. It certainly had cost them in terms of time, career, and relationships. They were all in on Jesus. How could he say they would deny him?

The disciples were confident in their capacity to stick with Jesus, and why wouldn’t they be? They had done it, for crying out loud! But Jesus doesn’t have that same confidence. As John 2:24-25 states, “Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.”

Have you ever had a moment when you failed Jesus? Did you know he knew that would happen in advance? Your failures do not surprise God. Both Moses and Joshua, when they affirm the covenant with the people of Israel tell them that they will fail. They will fall short. And the people of Israel cry out, “no, we will obey!” Who is correct, the predictors of shortfall, or those self-assured in their capacity for obedience?

Jesus knew how weak his disciples were. And he accounted for it. Jesus also knows how weak you are—and has accounted for that, too.

Which takes us to the second scene.

Why are you still sleeping?

Verses 32-42,

And they went to a place called Gethsemane. And he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy, and they did not know what to answer him. And he came the third time and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? It is enough; the hour has come. The Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.”

The Lord Jesus himself, in this scene, is shown to be familiar with weakness. The book of Hebrews tells us, in the fourth chapter, that we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses. That double negative might not be great English, but it does refute a common thought—no one understands what I’m going through. In other words, we think Jesus is unable to sympathize. And the writer of Hebrews says: wrong! Jesus is able. And I think this scene must have been top of mind when he wrote those words.

Jesus brings the disciples into this walled garden on the Mount of Olives, Gethsemane—or, oil press. And here Jesus was going to be pressed emotionally, spiritually, and even physically to the brink—all before he was arrested. In this time of anguish, what he describes as a time of being “very sorrowful, even to death” (v35), Jesus asks his friends to be with him. Jesus’ state resembles that of the Psalmist in Psalm 55:5, “Fear and trembling come upon me, and horror overwhelms me.

Jesus words to the disciples, “Remain here and watch” are not an invitation to become voyeurs, someone observing his pain and anguish and prayer from the outside. Rather, it was an invitation to “be watchful in prayer” as Colossians 4:2 commands. Jesus was preparing to face the hell of God’s wrath, but what he walked through first was the intense struggle of bringing his human nature into submission to the Divine Will—his Divine Will, eternally united among the Father, Son, and Spirit—so that he might faithfully undertake the course necessary for our redemption. As he prayed, Jesus wanted his friends to labor with him in prayer. There is a very real sense in which, in his humanity, Jesus needed his friends by his side.

But they failed him. When he returns to their side, what v35 had just called a “little” ways distant—Luke tells us it was about a “stone’s throw, maybe 15-20 yards?—in what state does Jesus find his disciples? Are they too, diligently laboring in prayer, holding up the arms of Jesus spiritually the way Aaron and Hur held up the arms of Moses in battle? Were they pleading, asking the Heavenly Father to give strength and resolution to his Son? Not quite. Jesus found his closest associates, James, John, and Peter, all sleeping.

Jesus addressed those most self-assured of them: “Simon [Peter’s given name], are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour?” The rebuke is subtle but clear: you say you’ll go with me to death, but can I count on you to stay awake?

But Jesus does not merely give words of rebuke. His words of instruction are also clear, along with an obvious note of understanding: “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation”— perhaps the temptation to violence, certainly the temptation to despair—“The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” The disciples were willing to help Jesus. They really wanted to be good friends and followers. What they had said on the road out to the garden was genuine in the sense that they were truly expressing how they felt. They never wanted to walk away from Jesus or abandon him. But they were weak. So. Terribly. Weak.

I am often reminded of Psalm 103:13-14, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers we are dust.” Jesus knows your frame. His Father in heaven—our Father in heaven—knows your frame. He knows you are dust. And he has compassion.

Importantly, though, compassion does not equal excuse making. Jesus gives them another opportunity, and is clearly disappointed when they fail him again. Their failures do not thwart the divine plan, they do not derail what Jesus is going to do. But they remain evidences not only of human weakness, but human failure. And those failures get worse.

As Jesus had predicted three times, he would now be betrayed into the hands of sinners. And his disciples would fail in this scene, too.

Varieties of failures

Scene three: Verses 43-50,

And immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas came, one of the twelve, and with him a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man. Seize him and lead him away under guard.” And when he came, he went up to him at once and said, “Rabbi!” and he kissed him. And they laid hands on him and seized him. But one of those who stood by drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his ear. And Jesus said to them, “Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to capture me? Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not seize me. But let the Scriptures be fulfilled.” And they all left him and fled.

In this third scene, the disciples fail in various ways—the first and most glaring is, of course, Judas. He had gone out from the supper with the intention of betraying Jesus into the hands of the chief priests. Now that plan comes to full fruition. It culminates in what we might call the kiss of death. In the dark of the Garden, the mob might have misidentified Jesus and been worried he would give them the slip, but Judas says, no worries. I’ll identify him for you. Moreover, he seems to either be so in the bag for the chief priests, or so up in his own head, that he thinks that seizing Jesus and leading away under guard is both necessary and possible. He had literally watched Jesus raise the dead and calm the seas, and he thought this armed mob meant something. As if Jesus couldn’t simply call down legions of angels. Judas has lost all perspective, and as his failure grew to the point of betrayal, he seems to at least temporarily lose his grip on reality.

Another disciple—unnamed by Mark, but Luke informs us it was Peter—chops of the ear of the High Priest’s servant. Also a failure to understand the gravity of the situation. Maybe rather than praying, Peter had been dreaming of taking up arms for Jesus, so when confronted with an armed mob, his first reaction is to grab his sword. Admirable for the bravery, but not for reading the situation rightly.

After Jesus confronts the mob for their hypocrisy—he’d been in the temple courts daily, and they couldn’t arrest him then?—he points out that Scripture will continue to be fulfilled. Remember that Jesus is in complete control of this situation, just like every situation he faced—and just like every circumstance in your life. Did the disciples take comfort and courage from this fact, and stand by their Lord in his hour of trial and need? No, they turned tail and ran. They fell away. “They all left him and fled” (v50).

Let he who stands take heed, lest he turn tail and run

Fourth and final scene: Verses 51-52,

And a young man followed him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body. And they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked.

This is an unidentified young man. Who is he, and why is this story in the text? We don’t have a definitive answer. There is a common, and what one commentator calls “attractive” guess, that this young man is Mark himself. Is this simply a personal detail that Mark throws in to let the reader know he saw it all first hand, and tell us of his own close brush with the Roman authorities? Maybe. But I think there is instruction for us here as well.

I’ve mentioned before that one of the great temptations we face as Bible readers is to read the text of Scripture and think, “what silly people they were” or “wow, what was wrong with them” or “man, they really blew it.” We certainly could read these scenes and think such things of the disciples. The problem with these thoughts is not that they are inaccurate. There’s all kinds of problems with the biblical characters, including the disciples in gospel narratives. There really is only one Jesus.

But reading in such a manner can give us a sense of emotional distance. And that felt distance is not justified. We are more like the disciples than we care to think. We are more susceptible to temptation than we want to realize. And that’s what this final scene in Garden shows us. Here is a curious young man—maybe, if it is Mark, he is even following Jesus and the disciples from his own house where they ate the supper, or maybe he heard the crowd which Judas led and wanted to know where they are going—in any case, a young man who is following the action. He is an outside observer, much like us. Presumably attached to the Jesus community. But when grasped he doesn’t try to give an answer, he doesn’t stand up for his abandoned Lord. He slips out of his loose-fitting clothes, and flees naked. And friends, we would, too. In the disciples' shoes, or Mark’s shoes, left to our own resources, we would run away from duty, away from the call of courage—away from Jesus.

We are not alone

So what do we do? Simply accept sin and failure as part of our lives and say, hey, Jesus can forgive me too, so it’s no big deal? Hardly. Jesus desired obedience from the disciples. He desired for them to labor in prayer. He told them in the upper room that to be his disciple meant to obey him. So, if Jesus desires obedience and faithfulness to him—even under duress—but our natural drive is one of self-preservation and the path of least resistance, how can we stand up, stand up for Jesus?

We can’t do it on our own power. But the good news is that for believers in Jesus Christ we are not alone. We are not left to our own power, our own devices. We live this side of Pentecost. 50 days after the resurrection, and 10 days after his ascension back to heaven, the Lord Jesus poured out his Holy Spirit on the disciples in the upper room. And his pattern since that point has been to—at the moment of belief—baptize believers with his Holy Spirit, at the very same time they come to him by faith. If you have trusted in Jesus as your personal savior, then you have been baptized by the Holy Spirit into the body of Christ, and he lives with you and in you.

The Spirit’s presence with us means that we have an ability to resist and even put to death sinful temptations which goes beyond what the disciples were capable of. In Mark chapter 13, probably just a few days before the betrayal and arrest of Jesus, he had told his disciples not to worry when they were arrested and dragged before councils, because the Spirit would speak through them (13:11). How did this group of fleeing and fearful disciples become the same group who would, indeed, boldly stand before councils and kings and suffer even unto death for the sake of Jesus? He had poured his Spirit out into their lives.

What we need to see in these scenes from the garden is that we should have no confidence in our own power to follow Jesus. We are very much like the disciples, which should teach us humility. It is not hard to think of a time when you have failed in following Jesus. But at the same time, we should take heart. He knows our frame. He knows our sin. He knows our failures. And Jesus has everything under control, even our failures. And what’s more, the same Holy Spirit upon whom Jesus relied in his earthly life is now dwelling within each and every follower of Jesus, enabling us to be far more faithful and true than we could be on our own.

Let us rejoice and exult with the words of Jesus’ brother, Jude:

Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, by glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen. (Jude 24-25)

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

The Lord’s Supper

Mark 14:22-25, Remsen Bible Fellowship, 05/25/2025

Introduction

Tomorrow is Memorial Day. Why do Americans celebrate memorial day? Beginning in 1868, Americans began to set aside a day to remember the sacrifices of those who had died in the Civil War. This expanded throughout the course of the late 19th and into the 20th centuries, and the last Monday of May was officially set aside by the federal government to celebrate Memorial Day beginning in 1971. Of course, it is also now generally seen as a time when we can remember all of those we have loved and lost, while maintaining that particular emphasis on those who served our country through military service. As an aside, I’d encourage you, if you are able, to attend one of the memorial day programs in the area. There’s one here in town at the Cemetery, at 10am, and one over in Oyens at 11am later. The one here in town, if the weather is bad, will be just down the street at the City gym. There’s a service at the cemetery in Marcus at 9:30am. Oyens does a very nice job, if you don’t have a particular attachment to one of the communities. It’s important to remember. To remember those who went before. To remember sacrifice.

The Jewish people also have a Memorial day. The feast of Unleavened Bread, highlighted by the Passover meal, was described by God in this way: “This day shall be for you a memorial day, and you shall keep it as a feast to the LORD” (Exodus 12:14).

What were the people of Israel supposed to remember on that day? They were to remember the salvation worked by God as he brought them out of Egypt. We discussed this some last week, but to refresh your memory on the Exodus story: After 400 years of sojourning in the land of Egypt, God determined to save his people from their Egyptian oppressors. For this purpose he had raised up Moses, to deliver the people from the hand of Pharaoh. Over and over, the Lord commands Pharoah to “let my people go, that they may worship me”, and Pharoah steadfastly refuses. In chapter eleven, God described for Moses the dreadful devastation which would come when he stretched out his hand over the land—the firstborn males in all of Egypt would die: both animal and human, from the slave girl grinding grain to Pharaoh on the throne. The firstborn would all die.

It is in chapter 12, then, that the Lord gives Moses instructions for this meal—a meal to be eaten in haste, consisting of bitter herbs, unleavened bread (all the leaven was cleared out—the two-fold purpose being the haste with which they would leave, and the symbolism which came to associate leaven with sin), and the passover lamb. This lamb, a spotless male from the flock, was to be killed and then roasted whole. The blood was to be taken, then, and sprinkled on the doorposts and lintel of the house using a hyssop branch, and when the angel of death passed through Egypt, any house that was covered by the blood would be passed over.

When the angel of death visited that night, Exodus 12:30 tells us, “Pharaoh rose up in the night, he and all his servants and all the Egyptians. And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where someone was not dead.” The Lord had visited judgement on the enemies of his people, but Israel had been kept safe. Verses 31-32 continue, ‘Then he summoned Moses and Aaron by night and said, “Up, go out from among my people, both you and the people of Israel; and go, serve the LORD, as you have said. Take your flocks and your herds, as you have said, and be gone, and bless me also!”’

Of course, the story doesn’t end there—in chapter 14 we read that Pharaoh, though he had that lucid moment after the death of his son, hardened again against the Lord and his people. He rides with his fastest chariots out into the desert to overtake them, and has them pressed against the Red Sea. But the Lord protects his people from behind with a pillar of cloud—and then he splits the sea. The people of Israel walked through on dry land, but when Pharaoh and his army attempted to pursue, the walls of water collapsed, and they were hurled into the depths. In Exodus 15:1 Moses led the people in song—“I will sing unto the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.”

All of this the people remembered on their memorial day, the day of Passover. It was a day of remembering God’s judgement of sin and his deliverance of his people.

And so in Mark chapter 14, in verses 22-25, we read of Jesus eating together with his disciples on their Memorial Day, but then he does something interesting, something unexpected, with this particular meal. He shifts the focus off of God’s deliverance in the past, and moves the focus squarely to himself.

Text

Mark 14:22-25, And as they were eating, he took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to them, and said, “Take; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and they all drank of it. And he said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Truly, I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

Broken Body

As I noted in the introduction, the most distinctive elements of the passover meal were the lamb, whose blood was shed, and the bitter herbs which were eaten with it. Bread was, of course, the most commonplace item available. Though for the week of the feast it was to only be unleavened bread, bread was, nonetheless, very everyday. So I find it striking that Jesus takes this item and picks it up, blesses it, and pronounces to his disciples: “take; this is my body.”

What would they have made of this? Surely, their minds would have been drawn back to the hard words Jesus spoke in John 6:33-35,

“For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.”

Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”

Jesus calls himself the bread from heaven—taking the minds of the audience back to the Exodus story, but this time a little further on—to where the people ask for food and God sends manna: bread from heaven. Jesus says to the people, “I am the true manna. I am the bread of real, spiritual, life. You must eat of me.” He continued in John 6 to insist that without eating his flesh you could not have life in you, that it was necessary to feed on him to abide in him, and that if you would eat of him you would have eternal life.

After saying these words, Jesus lost many followers. John 6:66 says, “after this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.” The twelve, though they didn’t yet grasp his meaning, wouldn’t leave. Jesus asked if they, too, would, but Peter replied, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). Peter was right. Jesus did have the words of eternal life. But they weren’t always easy to grasp.

And so, while the disciples had heard Jesus speak this way before—that his body was bread to be eaten—to hear it in the context of this meal must still have been jarring. He wanted them to take his body, and eat it.

We should note here the obviously metaphorical nature of this language. Jesus’ body didn’t start to disintegrate or fall apart as they ate the bread. When he said this is my body, he is using language in a way that clearly means “this bread represents my body.” They were symbolically consuming Christ as they ate the bread he passed around the table.

Blood of the Covenant

After they had eaten the bread, Jesus took a cup. Though this wasn’t part of the initial celebration of the Passover meal, and least not as explicitly recorded in Exodus, by the time of Jesus it seems that the meal had become a multiple course affair, part of which was a number of glasses of wine. Several commentators argue, I think rightly, that this cup Jesus took would have been the third cup of wine—the cup of blessing. So he pronounced the blessing over it, and then they all drank of it. So far, so normal for the disciples. They’re still processing his words about the bread being his body: what exactly is he getting at?

Then Jesus drops another bomb: “this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.” They thought they were drinking wine—he calls it blood. They thought they were drinking it—he says it is poured out. Again, our minds must grasp the metaphorical use of language. There’s no superstitious transubstantiation, nor changing of the bread and wine into flesh and blood. But these tangible physical elements of bread and wine are now meant to point beyond themselves. But to what?

It’s easy for us, as Christians, to jump straight to the cross here. And, of course, that is where our minds do need to end up. But Jesus says that this is his blood of the covenant. What does that mean?

If you remember our discussions of covenant from Genesis you’ll remember that a covenant is a mutually binding agreement. But unlike a modern contract which assumes the equality of the two parties entering into that contract, there was often a power differential in ancient covenants. Thus you would have a Lord who initiated a covenant with his subjects. There were stipulations upon both parties, and the consequences were severe—sealed in blood. Further, there was usually a sign of the covenant which symbolized the covenant arrangement. The classic example of this is Genesis 15 where God enters into a covenant with Abram, putting Abram to sleep and giving him a vision in which the Lord himself passes between the split bodies of the sacrifices. He then, two chapters later, reaffirms the covenant and gives Abram the sign of circumcision—simultaneously changing his name to Abraham. Being in a covenant with God changes Abraham’s very identity.

When Abraham’s descendants were in bondage in Egypt, and then delivered—the Exodus which God, in Genesis 15, had told Abraham would happen; and which Passover was the initiation of—God brought them to Mount Sinai and initiated a national covenant with them. There he gave them the law, the ten commandments and the rest of the Torah. This law was a good law, and Moses tells the people that he is setting before them, in the giving of this law, life itself. To walk in God’s ways is the path of life, obedience to the covenant stipulations brings covenant blessings. But on the flip side, to walk in disobedience was to bring down covenant curses. Disobedience was the path to death.

So the people of Israel always walked in obedience, right? Ha. But God knew that. And the law also had, built into it, the recognition that God’s people would fall short of God’s standard. They would continue to sin. And so a substantial part of the system is what we call the Levitical sacrificial system. Pigeons and doves and bulls and goats and grain and oil—sacrifices of all kinds to thank the Lord, praise the Lord, but most importantly, to come before him for forgiveness and the atonement of sin. Without the shedding of blood there could be no forgiveness.

But such a system, of course, never dealt with the core of the issue. The human heart which wanders far from God was still inclined toward sin, and while God made provision through the law for the blood of bulls and goats to, in a temporary way, cover that sin, their blood could never take the sin away (Hebrews 10:4). God’s people needed a new covenant. And, roughly 700 years after Moses, such a covenant is what the prophet Jeremiah foretold.

Jeremiah 31:31-34, “Behold the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the LORD. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.”

That new covenant that is written, not on stone tablets, but upon human hearts, is the very covenant Jesus was accomplishing and sealing with his blood as it was poured out on the cross. It’s a covenant that isn’t merely external, but that purchases and accomplishes forgiveness, yes, but also the genuine repentance and transformation of those who are brought in.

But one aspect of the new covenant passage in Jeremiah 31 that might disturb you as you read it is the intended audience—isn’t this just a promise for the houses of Israel and Judah? Well, if we only had Jeremiah’s testimony, we might think so. But a covenant, an everlasting covenant, with David—but which extends its blessings out to the nations—is the subject of Isaiah’s 55th chapter.

Isaiah 55:1-5, “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David. Behold, I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander for the peoples. Behold, you shall call a nation that you did not know, and a nation that did not know you shall run to you, because of the LORD your God, and of the Holy One of Israel, for he has glorified you.”

A nation that did not know the Lord would run to the Greatest Son of David. Friends, the apostle Peter tells us in 1 Peter 2:9 that believers in Jesus Christ are that holy nation, a people for his own possession. And how do we become such a nation? How do we come to be part of the people who receive the good news of the new covenant? We trust in the blood of Jesus which was shed in our place for our sins. We heed the voice of the Lord Jesus, running to him, who, in John 7:37, makes reference to Isaiah 55: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink.” If we come to him by faith, drinking of the blood he shed in our place, he will pour out into our hearts the Holy Spirit. Jesus says John 7:38, “Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” And John the gospel writer clarifies in the following verse: “Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive.” If you come to Jesus by faith, you become a member of the new covenant. You are counted among the many, for whom Jesus’ blood was spilled.

Signs of Union

The Lord Jesus gave us two signs of the New Covenant. The first, baptism, is an initiatory rite, comparable to how circumcision functioned under the Mosaic code. But the Lord’s table is an ongoing sign. Though it is not made explicit in the text here in Mark, both Luke and 1 Corinthians all give us the impression that this was something the church is to practice with great regularity. No specific frequency is required—but I would never want to take the Lord’s Supper less than our current once a month. And it is, in part, the ordinary elements of bread and wine make a regularity, and “as often-ness” possible. Jesus, our Passover lamb, has already been killed. We don’t need special herbs to season the meal, or to tie our robes tight around our waist, ready to run for the Red Sea. Instead, we are able to sit in the presence of the Lord Jesus and receive these tangible signs and symbols of his body and blood, reminders of the work he did for us on the cross, and the work he continues to do in us as we live as his covenant people here on earth. Though the symbols themselves are physical, the reality that they minister to us is the spiritual gift of Christ, who by his Spirit is present with us.

That current presence by the Spirit is crucial. Jesus told his disciples in verse 25 that he wouldn’t sit down to eat and drink with them again until the kingdom had come—there is some debate over what he means by that, but I think the most straightforward way to understand it is the wedding supper of the Lamb pictured in Revelation 19. One day we will physically be seated at a table with the Lord Jesus at the head, eating the rich food of Isaiah 55 and drinking the best wine, such as he made in John 2. But until then, we regularly gather at the table, feasting by faith, nourished and knit together as we remember—and not only remember, but proclaim—the Lord’s death until he comes.

Communion Meditation: Context and Content

Given the content of the sermon this morning, we’re going to pause our meditations through the Creed, in order to focus more tightly on the Lord’s Supper itself.

I mentioned in the sermon the everydayness of bread and wine: we no longer sacrifice a Passover lamb because Jesus is our Passover lamb who was sacrificed in our place. His blood is sprinkled over the doorposts of the heart of everyone who comes to him by faith. And he gives us ordinary means that we might celebrate and remember his sacrifice with great regularity.

Now this ordinariness should not be transformed into lightness. We need to honor our Covenant Lord in the content of what we use, and the context of where we use it. There is a temptation for modern Christians to be flippant in how they approach the Lord’s Supper. Some take the idea that “wherever two or three are gathered” and reality that Christ fulfilled the Passover feast, and think we can remember this basically however we want. So if I’m camping, maybe graham crackers and hot cocoa can be the Lord’s supper. Or at my home with my friends, maybe we can call pizza and pepsi the Lord’s supper. Let me issue a loving, but stern, warning on this matter: the intended context of the supper is the gathered church. Paul speaks 1 Corinthians 11:17-18 of “when you come together.” Communion is not an individual act between you and God, or even you and some random collection of other Christians, this is an ordinance that he gives to his covenant people, identified and gathered in the church. I don’t think this excludes the ability to take communion to the infirmed, perhaps in a hospital or nursing home. But it does mean that those are exceptional cases, and not to be considered normal.

Likewise, while the context is clearly to be the gathered church, the content or what have traditionally been called the elements are also prescribed by Scripture. First, there is the bread. Now, I do not believe the bread needs to be unleavened; we aren’t celebrating the feast of unleavened bread, we are remembering Jesus’ body. But it needs to be bread. Likewise, we have wine. The wine needs to be real fruit of the grape vine. Not water, not soda, not apple juice, not even that oh so holy substance we call coffee. Fruit of the vine. Historically, this has meant fermented wine. Only in the past 155 years has unfermented wine been used by some Christians—since Thomas Welch applied the process of pasteurization to grape juice and a stable juice became possible. Obviously the practice of our church, and many other churches—especially Methodists and Baptists in the past century and a half—has been to use grape juice. I don’t think there is anything wrong with grape juice, per se, because the Bible doesn’t explicitly say that the wine must be fermented, and the terms Jesus uses are “the cup” and “the fruit of the vine.” Nonetheless, what they used at that first meal was clearly and obviously wine, and that was the universal practice of Christian churches for well over 1800 years, and continues to be the practice of most churches today. And to be quite honest, the more I meditate on this reality, the more convinced I am that the most faithful way to practice the supper is with real, fermented, wine. And so, starting in July—not today, I don’t want to spring this on anybody out of the blue—my plan is to shift from our current practice of using grape juice to what I think is the more Biblical and historic Christian practice: wine.

Now I also want to be sensitive to the fact that some of you may have a problem in your conscience with any consumption of alcohol under any circumstance, or perhaps you are concerned about your child who is a believer taking wine in communion. What I want to do here is two-fold: first, I want to offer an exhortation; second, I want to offer a clarification. First, the exhortation: you may be making the wise choice to abstain from drinking alcohol in principle, to not have it in your house, etc. If this has been a sin struggle in your past or in your family, I am not going to argue with you choosing to abstain. Jesus says to cut off your hand if that would keep you from sin, take drastic measures to avoid temptation, that’s good. I would ask you, however, to pray about whether a sip of wine in the context of the gathered church remembering Christ’s death for our sins—including the sin of abusing alcohol—is that in the same category as buying a case of Busch for the fridge or a bottle of Jack Daniels for the cupboard? Likewise, if you are concerned about your child having a sip of wine in communion, I would ask you to consider the wisdom of generations of Christians who went before who thought that honoring the Lord by remembering him through the supper was more important than whatever our normal house rules would be. Even the government acknowledges this difference in making exceptions to alcohol laws for religious practice.

Second, the clarification: I really do want to honor the consciences of those who disagree in this matter. And so if not taking wine is a matter of conscience for you, I would ask you to do two things:

1), pray about what I just laid out, and

2), come talk to me—not right after church today, I really do want you to pray and read this passage and the 1 Corinthians 11 passage and meditate on what obedience to the Lord looks like—

But if you do that, and still feel you could not in good conscience take wine in communion, again, come talk to me, and we’ll make accommodation for that. Because more important than the question of whether the juice is fermented or not is the question of discerning the presence of Christ’s body at the table: and while his broken physical body is symbolized by the bread, his true spiritual body is present in the gathering of the church. We, together, constitute the body of Christ on earth. And so as we celebrate the supper, let there be no quarreling or dissension between us. Let us be reminded of Christ’s body broken and blood shed in our place, that he might unite us to himself by faith, bringing us into the family of his Father by purchasing our pardon. And remembering also that he, in this process, has made us One, even as He and the Father are One. Let pursue the Unity of the Spirit in the Bond of Peace, and let us proclaim Jesus’ name and and death together, in love, unity, and gratitude.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

Sermon Summary: Mark 14 - Judas's Betrayal and Jesus's Sovereignty

This sermon explores Mark 14, focusing on Judas's betrayal of Jesus and the theological implications regarding God's sovereignty and human responsibility.

Main Outline

* Introduction: Judas's Betrayal (Mark 14:10-11)

* The chief priests were planning to kill Jesus after Passover

* Judas approached them with an offer to betray Jesus

* They paid him 30 pieces of silver (the price of a slave)

* Contrast between Mary's sacrificial worship and Judas's betrayal for money

* Preparation for Passover (Mark 14:12-16)

* Jesus sends disciples to find a man carrying water

* Detailed instructions reveal Jesus's complete foreknowledge

* Everything prepared exactly as Jesus had planned

* The Passover Meal & Betrayal Announcement (Mark 14:17-21)

* Jesus announces one of the Twelve will betray him

* Disciples' disbelief and questioning: "Is it I?"

* Jesus references Psalm 41:9 as prophecy fulfilled

* Jesus pronounces "woe" on his betrayer

* Two Key Questions Addressed:

a. Was Jesus a victim of betrayal?

* Jesus demonstrated complete knowledge and control

* The betrayal was part of God's sovereign plan from the beginning

* Jesus knew Judas would betray him when he chose him

* Jesus continued to serve and love Judas knowing his future betrayal

b. Was Judas responsible for his actions?

* God's sovereignty doesn't remove human responsibility

* Judas actively sought to betray Jesus

* Judas had the same opportunities as other disciples but hardened his heart

* Jesus's pronouncement of "woe" indicates severe judgment

* Applications:

* God remains in control even in dark circumstances

* External religious association isn't enough - true faith is required

* Self-deception is dangerous - we must examine our hearts

* The key question: Will we worship Jesus like Mary or betray him like Judas?

The sermon concludes with a prayer asking for faith to see Christ's beauty and to remain faithful to him.

Transcript

Mark 14: The Betrayal of Jesus

Introduction

I wonder how he felt. I wonder what he told himself. After three years of walking with Jesus, after three years of hearing Jesus' teaching, after seeing all of the miracles from the wedding at Cana to the resurrection of Lazarus, after himself preaching the gospel of the kingdom and seeing many people come to faith in Christ, after himself doing many mighty works, including casting out demons and healing the sick, I wonder what he felt.

Our text last week began in chapter 14, verses 1 and 2, where the chief priests and the scribes are seeking, they're plotting together how they're going to kill Jesus, and they decide they can't do it right away. They need to wait until the festival, the Passover festival, is over in Jerusalem. At that time as a city in the ancient world, a very large city, 100 to 200,000 people. But at Passover, Josephus tells us it would swell to well over a million with all of the visitors who came to town. And so the chief priests and the scribes decide we can't arrest and kill Jesus with this many people around. He's too popular. It's too dangerous. We'll wait until the festival is passed and then we will arrest him and kill him.

But their plans change when opportunity comes knocking. And that's where we are in chapter 14, verse 10 this morning.

Judas' Betrayal

Verses 10 and 11 say this, Then Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went to the chief priests in order to betray him to them. When they heard it, they were glad and promised to give him money, and he sought an opportunity to betray him.

So the plans of the chief priests and the scribes change when Judas comes to the chief priests with an offer they can't refuse. I, one of the 12, will betray him to you. You're worried about trying to get him at a time when the crowds won't be there, when the crowds won't notice, when the crowds won't see, they won't be able to stop you, or there won't be an uproar. I don't. I can help you out here. I can provide what you need.

They're glad to hear it. It says so glad that they offer him money. Mark doesn't dwell on how much money that was. The other gospels tell us it was 30 pieces of silver in fulfillment of the prophecy in Zechariah chapter 12. And that price, 30 pieces of silver, we learned from the book of Exodus is what God had prescribed as the price of a slave. Judas sells Jesus for the price of a slave.

We saw last week in the story of Mary at Bethany, verses 3 through 9, she had given a gift beyond cost to Jesus. An alabaster flask full of ointment that would have cost probably a year's salary, something she could never have earned on her own. And yet she is willing to pour it all out on Jesus, for Jesus. She worshipfully uses her material possessions. But Judas worships his material possessions, and it's more important to him to have that 30 pieces of silver than to be counted with Jesus.

Planning the Passover Meal

The next thing we see in verses 12 through 16 is Jesus planning for the Passover. On the first day of unleavened bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb, so this would be Thursday in Passion Week, his disciples said to him, Where will you have us go and prepare for you to eat the Passover? So they're out in Bethany, right? That's where they were in the first part of this chapter. They're staying either with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, or they've been at a feast at the house of Simon the leper. They're spending their time this week out in Bethany. But the Passover feast itself had to be celebrated in Jerusalem.

And so they're asking Jesus, where do you want us to go set up in town for the Passover meal? And he sent two of his disciples, verse 13, and said to them, Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the master of the house, The teacher says, Where is my guest room? Where may I eat the Passover with my disciples? And he will show you a large upper room, furnished and ready. There, prepare for us. And the disciples set out and went to the city and found it just as he had told them, and they prepared the Passover.

Again, the meal had to be eaten in the city. And as I just said, there's over a million people in town. So this might sound like a bit of an impossible task that he sends these two disciples on. I want you to find a man carrying a jar of water. These narrow streets absolutely crowded with people. But what he's telling them to look for actually would stand out because carrying jars of water in ancient Jerusalem would have been considered women's work. So there weren't tons of men walking around carrying jars of water.

The one exception to that would be the Essenes. The Essenes are not mentioned by name. It's a group, religious group in ancient Israel that aren't mentioned in the New Testament, they kind of came to a prominence in modern understanding with the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls. They were the community at Qumran who prepared all of those scrolls, who had kept meticulous copies of the ancient documents and then stored them in those caves that were eventually found in the 1940s and so that they were a group that was even more conservative than the pharisees the pharisees were one of the really conservative religious groups in first century Jerusalem they they thought the the Sadducees and the chief priests they were all sellouts to Rome.

Well, the Essenes thought even the Pharisees were sellouts to the modern system. And so their way of preserving the way things ought to be is they went out into the desert, but they didn't have any women. It was all men. And you see cults like that. You think you don't have a very good long term plan, do you? I don't know how this is going to perpetuate itself. But in any case, you would have just men there. So all of the tasks of life had to be performed by men. So it's entirely possible that this is conjecture, but it's entirely possible that Jesus has connection with this Essene community who themselves would have come into Jerusalem for the Passover. And one of them is who he has had contact with and said, prepare for me a place in this upper room. And so when you see a man carrying a jar of water, follow that guy because he's going to go to the room that I had prepared for you.

This meal that they would have had to plan for was the Passover meal, where they celebrated the exodus from Egypt, God's great deliverance of his people in the book of Exodus. And if you remember the ten plagues, the final plague in Egypt, after every plague, God had been saying to Pharaoh, let through the mouth of Moses and Aaron, let my people go. And Pharaoh would say, no, I'm not going to let your people go. Until finally, the last plague, God had sent the angel of death to kill the firstborn.

And God had warned Pharaoh that this would be coming. And that angel of death passed through, but God had told the people of Israel, take a lamb, a spotless lamb, kill the lamb, and take the blood and put it over the lintel of your house, the doorposts. And when the angel of death sees the blood on the doorposts, he'll pass over your home. And then the meal that they were supposed to eat, they were supposed to eat that lamb, but they ate that meal at night with their coats tied on, and they were supposed to eat it standing up and to eat in haste. They ate the lamb however much they could of it. They ate unleavened bread, which was a symbol of what a hurry they were in. And then traditionally, they also would have eaten bitter herbs, would have been how they started that meal, and they would have had wine to go with it.

The Last Supper and Jesus' Prediction

In verses 17 and following, we see them come into town to Jerusalem for the meal. By the time of Jesus, they're no longer eating this meal standing up. It's a feast. It's a festival meal. And so traditionally at that point, now they're reclining at table. So the Jews in the first century normally would have sat at the table to eat dinner but here for these festival meals they dine in roman fashion or greek fashion they recline like feet out away from the table arms towards the table and they're leaning in dipping the different pieces of bread in the oils and the bitter herbs when it was evening he came with the 12 verse 18 as they were reclining at table and eating jesus said truly i say to you one of you will betray me one who is eating with me.

And they began to be sorrowful and to say to him one after another, is it I? And he said to them, it is one of the 12, one who is dipping bread into the dish with me. For the son of man goes as it was written of him. But woe to that man by whom the son of man is betrayed. It would have been better for that man if he had never been born.

They come to this meal and in the middle of the meal, Jesus makes a declaration. My betrayer is here at this table. One of you, one of the 12 is going to betray me. And if you're trying to imagine this scenario, I would think like the air comes out of the room. Here they are. They've been with Jesus for three years and they know things are getting pretty tense. In fact, until this Passover, they've been avoiding Jerusalem and even the whole region of Judea for quite some time because Jesus is not popular with the religious authorities.

But then Jesus says to them, my betrayer is not out there somewhere. He's right here eating this meal with us. And it says in verse 19 that they're sorrowful. They're disbelieving. They're asking the question, is it I, Lord? And the way that phrase is structured in Greek, it's expecting a negative answer. Surely it's not me. Who could it be? It's not, Peter says, it's not me. John says, it's not me, is it, Lord? Philip, it's not me, is it, Lord? And around and on and on it goes.

They ask this question to share table fellowship, even today, but even more so in the ancient world. To share table fellowship with someone is a profound sense of welcoming them, bringing them in, saying, we are one, we are together, I accept you. And Jesus, who is the host of this meal, is saying, I have welcomed you all in, and one of you is going to stab me in the back. One of you is going to reject that welcome.

Psalm 41 and verse 9 says that the one who had shared bread with me at table has lifted his heel against me. That's what Jesus means when he says, for the son of man, it goes, it is written of him. This was put down by David in the Psalms a thousand years ago, that this is what was going to happen. But woe to him by whom that comes. Severe damnation is what is indicated by that word, woe.

Two Questions Raised by the Text

So this text is one which in my mind raises two basic questions. And we'll tackle the easier one first. And the first is, is Jesus a victim of this betrayal?

And to answer that, I want to read verses 13 through 16 again. And he sent two of his disciples and said to them, go into the city and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the master of the house, The teacher says, Where is my guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples? He will show you a large upper room, furnished and ready. There, prepare for us. And the disciples set out, went into the city, and found it just as he had told them, and there they prepared the Passover.

The thing I find incredibly interesting in that passage is that the disciples do what Jesus told them to do. He's told them to walk into a city completely chock full of people, find the one guy walking around with a jar of water and follow him to a house and then say hey the teacher sent me for this prepared room that you already have set up for us.

That sounds like a crazy task to send someone to do. And yet the disciples, these two disciples, just go and do as Jesus said. And what they find when they do so is that it is exactly as he had set up. They follow this man with a jar. And they ask, and yes, there's a room already ready for us.

And there's a debate in the commentaries over the years as to what's happening here. Is this Jesus divine foreknowledge, like being able to say that you're gonna find this particular person, he's gonna be doing this particular task, and if you follow him, well, then here's what he's gonna have ready for you. Is this Jesus accessing divine knowledge? That's one group of people. And the other group says, no, what this indicates is that Jesus has planned this out ahead of time. And it seems like he's sending the disciples on a wild goose chase, but he already has it all planned out. He has it already. And so when he sends them in, they're going to find the people that Jesus has already talked to and set this up with.

And to me, I read both of those and I go, this is a completely pointless argument because both of them indicate that Jesus had it all planned out, divinely accessing this knowledge, or he just, in human terms, planned it all out. The point either way is that Jesus planned it all out. Every single detail of the preparations for this Passover meal are planned out in advance by Jesus.

Jesus Was Not Surprised

There's nothing here that is surprising him. And so when we come to the meal, when we come to the Passover meal, and Jesus says, one of you is going to betray me, that's not unplanned by him either. He's been predicting it. There's three predictions of Jesus' crucifixion, burial, and resurrection in the Gospel of Mark. Two of them, chapter 9, verse 31, and chapter 10, verse 33, include the detail that he would be delivered into the hands of the chief priests, that he would be delivered over to sinful men.

Jesus knew from the beginning that he was going to be betrayed. In Mark chapter 6, verse 64, this is much earlier in Jesus' ministry. Jesus says, there are some of you who do not believe. And then John, the gospel writer, inserts this editorial comment. For Jesus knew from the beginning who those were who did not believe and who it was who would betray him.

Jesus knew from the beginning. Jesus knew when he picked Judas that Judas would betray him. That's an important thing for us to know. That Judas did not surprise Jesus. That Jesus welcomed Judas into the Twelve. That Jesus gave Judas power and authority over demons and power to preach the gospel effectively. And Jesus brought Judas in and served him and loved him and gave him access to the collective purse of the community, which the other gospel writers tell us Judas was skimming the top off of. Jesus ministered to Judas for three years knowing that this moment was coming.

In fact, in John's Gospel, chapter 13, when Jesus washes the disciples' feet, that takes place. Jesus washing their nasty, disgusting feet. A task so low that a Jewish servant was not allowed to do it. You could have a foreigner do it, but you could not have a Jewish servant wash your feet. Jesus washes the disciples' feet. And Judas was still there when he did that.

Jesus knew from the beginning what Judas was to do. He knew from before the foundation of the earth that he was going to come to this earth and be betrayed into the hands of sinful men and die, be buried and be raised again. The whole plan was laid out in advance by God the Father in accordance with God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. The plan was since before the creation was the son would die for the sins of sinful human beings. None of this is by surprise to Jesus. Jesus is not a victim of what Judas is doing here. Jesus is the sovereign Lord of the situation.

Was Judas Really at Fault?

But if Jesus was sovereignly in control over the entire event, and if the method of betrayal had been foretold in the Psalms, again, Psalm 41, verse 9, was Judas really at fault? That's our other question. If God used what Judas did to bring about the salvation of every sinner who would ever believe in Christ, then if this was God's plan, is Judas really the bad guy? If Judas is part of God's plan, does that remove his responsibility?

No, it doesn't. And we see that in verses 10 and 11, just the way that Mark, the gospel writer, portrays Judas. Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went to the chief priests in order to betray him to them. And when they heard it, they were glad and promised to give him money, and he sought an opportunity to betray him. Listen to those active verbs. He went, he sought, he sought to betray him. Judas is active in this entire situation.

The gospel writers leave no doubt in our minds how we're supposed to view Judas. Even when he's introduced early on in the gospel, they tell us in advance. They don't want to bury the lead. This is the Judas Iscariot who was to betray him. Judas, who is the betrayer. You sometimes wonder, especially when you're reading like Matthew or John, who were themselves disciples, members of the 12, there's almost a sting as they write it. Again, this is the guy who held the purse. They trusted Judas. And he betrayed Jesus. He betrayed us. He betrayed the Lord of glory.

Human Responsibility and God's Sovereignty

God's comprehensive sovereignty over all things does not remove human responsibility. It does not remove our ability to choose right and wrong and our responsibility to choose right, to choose that which is honoring to God, to choose obedience to him, to choose faith.

What it does mean is that when we choose sin, when we choose wickedness, we cannot thwart God's plan. God's comprehensive sovereignty means no matter how many wicked things human beings do, no matter how many wicked things human beings choose to do, we cannot thwart God's plan. There's nothing we can do to stop or stay His hand.

But for Judas, he was responsible for his decisions. Judas had all the same experiences and opportunities as the other disciples. He heard all the same teaching. He was there for the Sermon on the Mount. But he let his heart grow hard to the point of betrayal, point of turning away and this is why Jesus says woe to that man by whom he is betrayed. That term woe is used in the old testament is the strongest prophetic denunciation condemnation term of condemnation for evil people and nations. You read in the book of Isaiah chapter 5 a series of woes against the people of Judah and Israel and in Isaiah there's also woes against other nations that oppress Israel and Judah.

And in Isaiah six, the prophet says, woe is me for I am undone. I'm a man of unclean lips. I come from a people of unclean lips. Jesus picks up that language probably just earlier this week when he's talking about the scribes and the Pharisees. Matthew in chapter 25 runs through the woes against scribes and Pharisees. Woe to you, Jesus says over and over and over again. And what he's saying is you are condemned. Apart from repentance, you are damned by God. For what? For their hypocrisy. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites. And now Jesus, after giving all of that teaching, turns and says, one of you disciples, woe to you. You too are a hypocrite. You too are pretending to be something over here, a faithful disciple of Jesus, when in reality you are the betrayer. And apart from repentance, you will be damned. That's what Jesus is saying when he says, woe to you.

Better, he says, to have not been born. The clear implication is that he is facing eternal torment and it would have been better to have never existed than to face that. That's a sobering reality.

Applications From This Text

So what do we do with this text? Okay, Jesus is in control of everything, but Judas is still responsible for his actions. Well, that translates very easily into two things that we need to take away.

First of all, we need to remember that God is always in control of everything. We can take a great deal of comfort in that fact that there is no night so dark, that there is no circumstance so bleak that God is not in control. Jesus is walking his disciples here into the most disappointing and terrifying moment of their earthly lives. One of their own is going to betray them, betray Jesus specifically, and then Jesus himself will be crucified. And he is showing them and preparing them in advance that he knows it all, that he already knows this is going to happen and that it's going to be okay. Not that it's going to be okay in the sense of it's okay that this is happening, that God's okay with sin, but that God has it all under control.

There are so many moments in life when we are tempted to believe that it's time to hit the panic button, that it's time to worry, that it's time to be afraid. But Jesus, by reminding us that he's in control of everything, reminds us what Paul says in Romans 8. If God is for us, who can be against us? If the God who planned out the death of his own son in our place is for us, who can be against us? He will work all things together for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose.

But the second thing to learn from this text and to take to heart is that that promise that God will work all things together for good is only for those who love him. That's not a universal promise. God does not work everything together for good for everyone. He does not work all things together for Judas' good. Judas hardened his heart and betrayed the Lord Jesus.

And I think the message for us there is that let he who stands take heed lest he fall. Judas, again, spent three years with Jesus, was one of the hand-picked disciples, and for all the world to see was just another one of Jesus' most intimate followers. That's what the world saw when they looked at Judas until the very end.

It wasn't reality. Judas was not living that way. He was being a hypocrite there in Simon's house. He's criticizing Mary for worshiping Jesus. He's stealing money. So he's acting the hypocrite all the way through. But the world doesn't know that. And when I started with, I wonder what he thought, I really do wonder if Judas even saw himself that way. Because we have such a strong ability to lie to ourselves.

Jeremiah says the heart is desperately sick. We have an immense capacity to fool ourselves. Matthew chapter 7. The tail end of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus speaks some terrifyingly sober words. Not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord, will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day, many will say to me, Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and cast out demons in your name and do many mighty works in your name? And then I will declare to them, I never knew you. Depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.

That's Judas. He literally cast out demons in Jesus' name, did many mighty works in Jesus' name, and at the end, Jesus will say to him, I never knew you. Despite three years of walking and talking and being together, Jesus will say, I never knew you.

Examining Our Hearts

And this is one of those texts where we need to examine our own hearts because everybody else can't see what's going on inside of you. Do you trust Christ? Again Jesus says you workers of lawlessness there in chapter 7 of Matthew and the defense that that person is making they're saying but I did all this good stuff for you but what is the primary work that Jesus wants john chapter 6 says this is the work of my father that you believe in Jesus Christ whom he has sent.

Faith in Christ will work its way out in good works. But if you think just because I'm doing good things or I'm showing up to church or I have some kind of association with Christians, that that's going to be good enough to Jesus, it's not. Because when push comes to shove, those kind of loose associations, even if they're important in your life, aren't enough. You have to actually be attached to Jesus by faith, united to him, given the gift of his Holy Spirit.

Jesus says in John chapter 10 that those who are in the hand of the Father can never get out. They'll never leave. He will keep them till the end. Jesus preserves all of those who are his. But you only become Jesus' child. He's given you the gift of the Spirit and you have trust in by faith. There's no works that we do. There's no set of actions. It's not even showing up in the right place. Judas was in the right place for three years, except for his heart.

His body was in the right place, but his heart was not. And so we need to ask, what do we love? What do we love? Who do we love?

Conclusion

In one of his writings, I don't remember which one of it is, C.S. Lewis makes the point that you will surely be used in God's plan. You're in God's will one way or another. But it's of great matter to you whether you are in his plan the way John was or the way Judas was. And he put them together because, you know, they both start with a J. But here in Mark chapter 14, I think the question to us is, are we going to be part of Jesus's plan the way Mary was, as someone who's willing to pour our whole selves out and worship to him? Or the way Judas was, where in spite of our evil, God will use it. That's the question that we each get to answer for ourselves. Will I worship him or will I worship? Love something else. Will I betray him? Will I walk away?

Would you pray with me?

Father God, we need to trust you. We need to trust in what you've done through your son, Jesus Christ. We need to give our whole selves over to him. And yet, as those who are by nature sinful, we need you to do that in us. The place where your comprehensive sovereignty and our genuine responsibility meets is beyond our finite mind to grasp. And yet they're both clearly taught in your word. And so we trust that you will give it if we ask, that you will give the faith that we need, that you will give us eyes to see the beauty of Christ, who he is and what he has done for us. And we ask for the faith to follow to keep walking with him till the end. In the words of Jude, we are thankful to you because you are the one who is able to keep us in the love of Christ. Protect us now. Keep us in your love, we pray. In Jesus' name, amen.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

Transcript and summary generated by AI. Please comment if you notice any errors.

Sermon Summary

"How Will You Respond to Jesus?"

🔶 SERMON OUTLINE

I. Introduction: The Range of Human Responses

* Commentary on reactions to the announcement of a new Pope.

* People’s emotions vary: excitement, skepticism, indifference.

* Transition to Jesus: how people also respond to him in varied ways.

* Key Question: Is it okay to have neutral feelings about Jesus?

II. The Olivet Discourse and the Two Final Categories (Matthew)

* Jesus declares that at the end of time, there will be only two types of people:

* Those who embraced him (the sheep, right hand)

* Those who rejected him (the goats, left hand)

* Superficial acknowledgment of Jesus (“Lord, Lord”) is not sufficient.

* Jesus demands full submission and trust as Savior and Lord.

III. Overview of the Gospel of Mark

* Mark introduces Jesus as the Son of God and King of the Kingdom.

* The first half (chapters 1–8): Jesus establishes his identity through miracles:

* Authority over demons (e.g., Legion)

* Authority over sickness (healing diseases)

* Authority over sins (forgiving the paralytic)

* Authority over nature (feeding crowds, walking on water)

* Pivot in Mark 8: Peter confesses Jesus is the Christ.

* From that point on, Jesus reveals his plan for redemption: his death and resurrection (repeated in chapters 8–10).

IV. Jesus’ Final Week (Mark 11–14)

* Chapter 11: Triumphal entry and cursing the fig tree (symbol of Israel's spiritual barrenness).

* Chapter 12: Warnings against the scribes.

* Chapter 13: Prediction of temple destruction and Jesus’ second coming.

* Chapter 14 opens with the plot to kill Jesus by religious leaders.

V. Two Responses to Jesus (Mark 14:1–9)

A. Rejection (vv. 1–2)

* Chief priests and scribes seek to kill Jesus.

* Even though modern hearers aren’t physically crucifying Jesus, choosing sin is still a rejection of him.

* Every sin aligns us with the forces that put Jesus on the cross.

B. Worship (vv. 3–9)

* Mary’s act of worship: breaks alabaster jar of expensive perfume and anoints Jesus.

* This sets up four characteristics of true worship:

🔸 Four Characteristics of True Worship

1. Worship Is Rich (Costly & Lavish)

* Mary gives her most valuable possession (worth ~1 year’s wages).

* True worship values Jesus above all material goods.

* This worship is rich not just materially, but in affection and devotion.

2. Worship Is Reasonable

* The disciples (especially Judas) criticize Mary for wastefulness.

* Jesus defends her: it was a beautiful thing.

* Worship that gives Jesus everything isn’t extravagant—it’s entirely fitting.

* Romans 12:1–2 – giving ourselves to God is our reasonable service.

3. Worship Is Rewarded

* Jesus promises Mary’s act will be remembered wherever the gospel is preached.

* God sees and rewards every act of sacrificial love.

* Encouragement especially to those who serve behind the scenes (e.g., mothers, caregivers).

4. Worship Is Responsive

* Mary’s act wasn’t to earn favor; it was in response to Jesus’ love and sacrifice.

* She is preparing his body for burial—Jesus ties her act to his coming death.

* True worship flows from understanding God’s grace, not trying to earn it.

🔶 Conclusion: Side with Mary

* Don’t align with the self-righteous or indifferent religious elite.

* Pour out your life at Jesus’ feet—he is worthy.

* This is another instance of Mary choosing the “better part” (Luke 10).

* Final prayer: for God to make us like Mary.

SERMON SUMMARY

This sermon presents a challenge to the listener: How will you respond to Jesus? Through a mix of biblical exposition, narrative overview, and practical application, the preacher presents two stark options: to reject or to worship Christ.

Using Mark 14:1–9 as the focal text, the sermon contrasts the murderous intentions of the religious leaders with the extravagant, sincere devotion of Mary of Bethany. Her act of anointing Jesus with a year’s worth of perfume is held up as a model for Christian worship.

The preacher offers four key traits of real worship—it must be rich, reasonable, rewarded, and responsive. Worship is not about checking boxes but about responding to the immeasurable worth of Jesus and the salvation he has already given.

Sermon Transcript

How will you respond to Jesus?

There was a little discussion this morning about Pope stuff. Obviously, the Catholic Church named a new Pope here a couple days ago. And it's interesting having conversations with Catholic friends and customers at the coffee shop—just the different reactions to the Pope.

There are people who are just excited to the point of tears, like they're really emotionally invested. And there are people who are skeptically excited, like, yeah, we'll see how he does. I talked to a friend of mine, and he said, “I just don't know, Will. I really don't trust Americans.” So he's really skeptical of the idea that there's an American pope.

The way we react to people in general can be all over the map, right? Maybe you feel really strongly, passionately positive towards someone, or really strongly negative towards someone—or you're somewhere in between. And with normal human beings, we can have those kinds of all-over-the-map reactions.

But is that the case with Jesus? A lot of people would say, yeah, I don't have strong feelings about Jesus. It seems like he was probably a good guy. Or, I don't have strong feelings about Jesus. I don't really feel the need to follow him. I don't see the need for a savior. But whatever, if you want to, that's fine.

But what Jesus tells us in the Olivet Discourse in the Gospel of Matthew is that at the end of time, there's only going to be two categories of people. There are those who embraced him as all that he is—Savior, Lord, God—and they are the sheep who will go to his right hand. And then there are those who do not embrace him in that way, which includes many people who are going to say, “Lord, Lord, didn’t we do all kinds of good things for you?” But they didn’t actually submit to him as their Lord, and they are among the goats who will go to the left-hand side.

That's important for us as a church. We've just gone through about two months of walking through the seven words that Jesus says from the cross and considering his life as it came to an end—an earthly end—where he paid for our sins. And we discussed all that that implied about our sinful state and about the sufficiency of his sacrifice and his sovereignty and all of that.

As we jump back into the Gospel of Mark, we're going to again be confronted with this choice, this decision. There are two ways to respond to Jesus. You can reject him, or you can worship him.

We should reorient ourselves to the Gospel of Mark just a little bit because it's been since August that we were here. The Gospel of Mark introduces itself, chapter 1, verse 1, as the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. And Mark tells you at the very beginning of his Gospel who he is introducing you to. This is the Son of God who has come to earth.

And in verse 15 of chapter 1, Jesus tells us that the gospel that he comes to bring, the good news that he comes to bring, is the good news of the kingdom. In his coming to earth, Jesus is the king of the universe, the king of God's kingdom, and he has come near. That's the good news that he is preaching.

The first half of Mark's gospel is devoted to Jesus establishing his identity. And so we see that in the authority that he exercises over demons. Chapter 1, verse 34 tells us he's casting out all sorts of demons. It says that right after he has cast out a demon from a man in the synagogue that Sabbath day.

Chapter 5 has the story of Jesus encountering a man when he comes to the region of the Decapolis. He comes to that region and a man meets him from the tombs. This man has—they've tried to chain him up—he's been ripping free of the chains. And Jesus says, “What's your name?” and he says—the demons from within him speak—“We are Legion, for we are many.”

My name is Legion. So Jesus commands the legion of demons to leave this man. Jesus shows his power over the demonic realm, over all spirits, when a full legion, enough to inhabit 2,000 pigs—when Jesus casts them out—they all have to submit to his authority. 2,000 demons, one Jesus. Jesus has authority over all of them. They're begging him for mercy.

We see his authority over sickness. Again, chapter 1, verse 34 says people with all sorts of diseases were coming to him. Same thing in chapter 3, verses 6 and 7. People with all sorts of diseases are coming to Jesus, and he's healing them. But he's doing that, again, to establish his authority, to show that he has authority on earth to forgive sins.

Chapter 2: a group of men—Jesus is in a crowded house. He's healing and he's teaching. And this group of men want to get their buddy to Jesus, and they can't even get into the house. So they break through the roof, drop the man down through the roof, and Jesus, seeing their faith, says, 'Your sins are forgiven.'

The religious leaders who are there think to themselves, this is blasphemy. No one can forgive sins except God alone. And Jesus sees what's in their mind and he says, why do you question among yourselves? What's easier to say, your sins are forgiven or rise, take up your bed and walk? But so that you know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins, he says to the man, rise, take your bed and go home. And the man stands up, carries his bed out of there.

Jesus shows his power over the physical body in order to establish his authority as God to forgive sins. And we see his authority over nature. We see him feed the 5,000. We see him feed the 4,000. And directly after the feeding of the 5,000, he walks on the water through a storm to the disciples. And when he comes into the boat, the wind and the waves cease.

Jesus has authority over everything in this world, seen and unseen. And that's what the first half of Mark's gospel is devoted to establishing. And in the middle of chapter 8, Jesus takes his disciples aside and he says to them, 'Who do people say that I am?' And they said, 'Well, some say Elijah, John the Baptist raised from the dead, one of the other prophets.' Jesus says, 'Who do you say that I am?' And Peter, speaking for the twelve, says, 'You are the Christ, the Son of God.'

And Jesus, after that moment, it's a pivot. The book pivots from establishing the person of Christ to telling us the plan that Christ has to accomplish the salvation that he has come to bring. And so in chapters 8, 9, and 10, each of them, we have a prediction that Jesus gives of his betrayal into the hands of sinful men, his suffering, his death, and his resurrection.

Chapter 11 begins the Passion Week. Some commentators refer to the Gospel of Mark as a passion narrative with a really long introduction—that's basically what it is. Chapters 11 through 16 all focus on that one week. So in chapter 11, Jesus comes into Jerusalem. Then we have the narrative of the fig tree, where Jesus symbolically curses this tree to show us that the Jewish religious system that has become apostate—that has turned away from God and is just going through the motions—he’s cursed it.

In chapter 12, he warns the disciples and those who are listening to him, 'Beware of the scribes and their practices. They devour widows' houses.' And in chapter 13, he basically proclaims a death sentence on the Jewish nation of that day when he says that the temple is going to come crashing down. He predicts what's going to happen in 70 AD and then tells of his coming return in glory that will usher in the end of all sin.

And so it's with that that we come to chapter 14. And in chapter 14, we read this in verses 1 and 2: 'It was now two days before the Passover and the feast of unleavened bread. And the chief priests and the scribes were seeking how to arrest him by stealth and kill him. For they said, Not during the feast, lest there be an uproar from the people.'

One of the ways that you can respond to Jesus is to reject him—is to want to kill him. And before we reject that and say, “Well, that's not me. I'm not trying to kill Jesus. He's not physically here, so I'm not in the same category as the chief priests and the scribes,” what we need to recognize is ultimately their plan comes to fruition, right? It actually comes together faster than they intended. They did not want to kill him during the festival. They were afraid of the crowds. And you're going to see just a few verses later next week that Judas is going to change their plans when Judas goes to betray Jesus. This is actually going to come together faster than they intended.

But what ultimately puts Jesus on the cross is our sins. That’s right. And so, when we're thinking about how do I respond to Jesus, the question is, do I love my sin or do I love Jesus? Because every time I'm choosing my sin, I am choosing that which put Christ on the cross. And so that is still a relevant question for us, even though we're not there plotting and planning with the Sanhedrin. We have to ask, am I choosing to worship Christ or am I choosing that which put him on the cross? Am I choosing that which is abhorrent to God?

That's the question that we have. That one option is to join with the chief priests and the scribes, to love our sin, to love our own way of doing things, to love being our own Lord. And the end of that way, Proverbs tells us, is death, destruction. It's what Jesus says in chapter 13 of Mark's gospel. To embrace your own rule is to reject Christ and to end in destruction.

The other option that we see in the focus of the text and the focus of our sermon this morning is what we see in verses 3 through 9. We see another model laid for us. And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head.

There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than 300 denarii and given to the poor,” and they scolded her. But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good to them. But you will not always have me. She has done what she could. She has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

To set the scene: he is at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper. Now, to be in the house of a leper assumes that this leper has been healed, right? According to the customs of the day and the Jewish law, a leper wouldn't have been allowed to have contact with people, let alone would people be coming into his house. And yet he's known as Simon the leper. He's presumably a man who for some time suffered from a severe skin disease, not necessarily what we think of with leprosy and Hansen's disease. But any kind of skin disease could have been described as leprosy. It was bad enough that this was his identity, but he's presumably here been healed—almost certainly by Jesus.

He comes to Bethany, and you can just imagine the scene. Jesus is coming to Jerusalem for the Passover feast, as a Jewish male would have been required to. And so he's coming here to this area. Bethany is just two miles away, and Bethany is also the home of Mary and Martha and Lazarus—Lazarus, whom Jesus had recently raised from the dead. You can imagine that this group of people who know Jesus, love Jesus, experienced profound ministry from Jesus are excited that he's here. Simon says, “I'm going to host a feast. I'm going to welcome you in.” And they're reclining at table, which signifies it's a feast. Normally, they would sit up at the table, but for a special occasion, they would recline, which you see at the Passover meal—they're reclined.

Then a woman comes in. Mark doesn't give us the identity of the woman. His focus is going to be elsewhere. We know from John's gospel that this is Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. This is a woman who has known Jesus for a long time, has sat at his feet, has benefited from his ministry, has seen the miraculous worked at his hands. And as he's reclining at this table—this celebratory feast—a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head.

We're going to see four aspects of a worshipful response to Jesus this morning. And the first aspect of the worship response to Jesus is that it is rich. It's rich.

What does Mary do here? What does this woman do? She comes with an alabaster flask. This would have been a white jar that had value in itself. It's probably 12 to 16 ounces in capacity, and it's full of what the ESV here translates as pure nard. Other translations say spike nard. It's an expensive ointment. He says here "very costly." We see down in verse 5 that when the disciples are criticizing her action, they say it's worth over 300 denarii. A denarius was a day's wage for your most laborers. In a six-day work week, you've got about a year's worth of salary here is how much value is contained in this jar, in this flask of ointment.

Now, in that society, very few women had gainful employment, right? So where did she even come up with this? This is almost certainly like a family heirloom that's being passed on. And it is almost certainly the most valuable thing that Mary owns. A jar of perfume that, to put in rough modern dollars, maybe it's worth 50 or 60 or 70 thousand dollars. And she keeps it in a precious spot, probably in her home. And when they have this feast, where Jesus has reclined at table, she comes, she interrupts the meal, and she breaks the flask—because they wouldn't have had stoppers; it was a sealed container—she breaks it and pours it on his head.

The Gospel of John says she then wipes his feet with her hair. I don't know if you've ever—I'm sure you've all spilled something at some point in your life. When liquid—you think 12 ounces, that’s not that much—until you spill 12 ounces. That’s a lot of fluid everywhere. And she has dumped it on his head, all down his body to the point where she is then wiping off his feet with her hair.

This worship, this act of worship costs Mary something—probably her most valuable possession. What should we learn from that? Probably not that you should find your most valuable thing—your car or your house—and sell it and then give the money to the church. That’s probably not the application here, although the building fund would benefit from that. I really expected some kind of response from that.

But the point in seeing what Mary is doing here is that she considers Jesus more valuable than her most valuable possession. This is exactly what Jesus is looking for in a disciple. He says elsewhere that if you are not willing to leave behind mother, brother, sister, houses, lands—if you don’t even hate your own life in comparison to how much you love Jesus—you can’t be his disciple. And Mary is demonstrating that whatever she owns is worth giving to Jesus. Everything she owns is worth giving to him.

The question that I have as I reflect on that is: does my life display that I value Jesus above everything else? That’s a really ambiguous question. Like, how do you put wheels on that? “I value Jesus.” Okay, in my heart, I feel some kind of importance related to him. What do I do with that?

One way, I think, just even in the ordering of your life—prioritizing church attendance is actually a way of very tangibly ordering your life around the value of Jesus, of hearing his word and being with his people.

Let me clarify something. When I say that a worshipful response to Jesus is rich, I don't just mean that it's costly to us. I mean that it's rich in the same way that a really good meal can be rich. It might cost you something if you went someplace and paid for this meal—yeah, it was rich in the sense of what it came out of your wallet. But the experience of it, shared with good friends or someone you love—it’s a rich experience.

Mary here is showing—she’s bursting into a room that’s full of men that she’s not allowed into unless she’s serving. And she comes and she interrupts everything to pour out her most valued possession on Christ. She’s not doing that begrudgingly. She’s not doing that because it seems like a religious duty to check off the list. She’s doing it because she loves Jesus that much that she wants to show his value. And this is the only way she can think that is fitting, that is appropriate.

When I think about Sunday morning—ever since I was a little kid, and I’ve not always walked very closely with the Lord in my life—but ever since I was a little kid, by God’s grace, my favorite day has always been Sunday. Because there is something orienting, tethering, in being with God’s people that grounds my whole life.

Another tangible way that we can put this into practice is to just think through—literally, she gave something that cost everything she owned. In the Old Testament, the principle of giving that we see typically is the tithe. And that principle is not reiterated in the New Testament. We're not told that we have to tithe off of our mint and dill and cumin, although Jesus says to the Pharisees, “You should have done that in addition to nailing down the more important matters of the law.”

Rather, the principle that we see in the New Testament is that the Lord loves a cheerful giver. That’s what we see in 2 Corinthians. But the examples that are put forward in Scripture in the New Testament of givers who are getting it are people like the woman in Mark chapter 12 who gives her last two pennies—all she had to live on. And in 2 Corinthians, the Apostle Paul points to the Macedonians—probably the Philippian church—who out of their suffering and poverty generously gave.

So there's no magic number, like “You have to give this percent of your income,” that the New Testament gives us. But there is a principle of: do you trust him, and do you love him? And do you want to show that with the thing that makes the world go round? Money makes the world go round. And do you trust God with your money enough to say, “I want to worship you with it”? That's an important question to ask.

I don’t want to get too much more specific than that in how to apply this principle, though, because I think that’s a question that we need to linger with in all of our life: does my life put Jesus on display—and his value on display? The first thing about worship is that it's a rich response. And “rich” should encompass our whole lives.

The second is that it's reasonable. The disciples question the reasonableness of Mary’s response to Jesus here—of her worship of Jesus.

In chapter 14, verse 4, it says they said to themselves indignantly, “Why was this ointment wasted like that?” They look at Mary dumping this oil all over Jesus and they say, “What a waste.” Now, I believe it’s Luke’s account of this—or maybe Matthew—where they point out that it’s Judas who makes this statement. And he wasn’t actually worried about the poor. He had control of the purse, and he was scooping money out for himself. And he’s thinking, “300 denarii—I can make 40 or 50 come out pretty easily—maybe 30.”

Nonetheless, surely the other disciples are also looking at this going, “What a waste. Don’t you know what we could have done with this that was good?”—given to the poor, it says in verse 5. And they scold her.

From what I read in the commentaries, “scold” is probably a pretty generous, gentle translation of how they were treating Mary. I'm the oldest of 11 siblings. And I'm not the most gentle person in the world now. When I was younger, I most certainly was not. And anytime a younger sibling did something stupid, I was very quick to let them know in no uncertain terms how dumb I thought they were. And I think that's exactly what the disciples are doing with Mary here. They want her to feel small for having been so wasteful.

How does Jesus respond to that? Jesus says, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.”

If someone is worth more than all the world, and someone gives something that costs a year's worth of wages, is that an extravagant or over-the-top gift—or is it a small but reasonable expression of love?

I was reading a poem this week—I should have printed it off—it’s called The Lanyard by Billy Collins, I think. And he talks in this poem about how he went to summer camp and he went there and braided a lanyard with the help of a camp counselor. And this lanyard, which he had never seen anybody in real life actually use—assumed they must be used for something—but he brought it home for his mom.

And his mom, who had given him life, provided him with an education, who had fed him thousands upon thousands of meals, made sure he had good clothes—he just walks through each of these, and he says, “And in exchange, I give a lanyard. And in exchange, I give a lanyard.” It’s a small thing, right? But in the child’s mind, it’s just, “I’m showing my mom I love her.” And that’s what Mary is doing here.

Mary, to the disciples, to the world around, what she’s doing looks insane. Why would you dump $75,000 on someone’s head and wipe it off with your hair off their feet? It’s tiny compared to what Jesus deserves, but it’s what she had. In fact, Jesus recognizes that here. Verse 8: “She has done what she could.” Her service, as extravagant as it seemed—her worship—is perfectly reasonable because it’s what she could do. It’s what she could do to say, “Jesus, I love you. You are worth everything to me.”

The Apostle Paul, in the book of Romans—chapter 12—in chapters 1 through 11 of Romans, Paul is exulting in the glories of the gospel and telling what God has done for us in Christ. And in chapter 11, that kind of reaches a crescendo point, and he is writing in probably the most poetic language Paul uses anywhere. Romans 11:34–35 says, “For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor, or who has given him a gift that he might be repaid? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.”

And Romans 12:1–2 says, “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship”—or some translations say “reasonable service.”

Worship—worshiping Jesus with everything that you have—is always reasonable. It might look crazy to the world. It might look crazy sometimes to other believers who don’t get it. But it is the most logical and reasonable thing you could ever do in light of all that Jesus has given and done.

You wonder if Mary had paid more attention to Jesus’ teaching on his coming suffering and death than the rest of the disciples had. Because Jesus says here, “She has anointed my body beforehand for burial.” And we don’t know. We don’t know if she grasped ahead of time that this is what Jesus was going to do—that he was going to die when nobody else understood it—and she therefore anointed his body, poured this perfume on his body. Or maybe she’s just giving what she has to him because she loves him. And Jesus is pointing to a symbolic meaning that’s beyond what she knew. We don’t know.

But if we are guided by a desire to worship Jesus in everything we do, he’s going to use it beyond what we can see, beyond what we can perceive.

And that takes us to the third aspect of true worship—worshiping Jesus—is that it is always rewarded. Worshiping Jesus is rewarded. There is a sense in many people’s minds that we shouldn’t care about rewards. And that is silly, because the Bible promises rewards for loving and worshiping Jesus.

Jesus says here, “She has done what she could. She has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

Do you ever think about the things that you do—the things, whether it’s in worship and coming to church, or the giving that you do, or the sacrifices that you make for others? That’s where I could have turned this and made it a Mother’s Day sermon—the sacrifices you make behind the scenes that nobody’s ever going to know, nobody’s ever going to notice.

One of the struggles, honestly, that I watch a lot of mothers face is they become embittered by that lack of notice—the feeling unseen, either by the kids or by her husband or by the world around, not acknowledging all that I’m doing. This is part of why Instagram exists: to show the world how awesome I am and all the things that I’m doing.

But if you’re living for the approval of other people—even people that you love very dearly—you’re not actually going to love them very well. Because then you’ll start doing things just because you think you’ll get affirmation from them. And then when they still don’t give it, or when they give it inconsistently, you’re going to be crushed by that.

But if you’re living with a recognition that Jesus sees everything, and he will reward worship—and that worship might be coming and singing; that worship might be getting up in the middle of the night to feed a baby or to clean up a child who’s sick and cleaning up their vomit; it might be changing a diaper; it might be making a meal; it might be going to work—like there’s all kinds of ways that we worship God, offering our bodies, all of us, our whole lives, as living sacrifices to him.

And he sees every bit of it. And he values that worship and will reward it. Hebrews 11 tells us that without faith it is impossible to please God. And here’s how he defines faith: “For those who would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.”

We need to live—we need to worship—with an understanding that worship is rewarded eternally. We don’t have to live for the approval of other people. If we are living to worship Christ with our lives, that has a reward. And unlike people, God is not fickle. God does not change. And he does not forget.

Finally, the last thing we see is that the worshipful response to Jesus is a response. What is she preparing Jesus beforehand for? She’s preparing his body for burial, it says. He’s going to be buried because he’s going to be crucified—in her place—for her sins. He is her Savior. And that is why she responds in this way.

All true worship—and this is so important for us to always remember, I’m not saying anything new here—but all true worship is a response to the fact that God has already loved us. First John says, “We love because he first loved us.” We don’t walk through a set of worship practices, we don’t give certain things away in order to achieve favor with God. Favor with God is a gift—given through the broken body and shed blood of Jesus Christ, who is killed and raised on our behalf.

And so if we are united to him by faith, then we pour out our lives in service to him. It is a response to what he has already done for us. So true worship doesn’t achieve favor with God—it’s a response to having received salvation through Jesus.

That kind of response can—and should—carry us through every day. And so my exhortation is: side with Mary, not with the chief priests, not with the scribes. Side with Mary, pouring out everything at the feet of Jesus. This is one more example of Mary choosing the better part. The better part is to be with Jesus.

Would you pray with me?

Father God, we thank you for the gift of your Son. And we thank you for the example that we have in Scripture of those who poured out everything for you. Would you make us like them? Would you make us like Mary? We ask in Jesus' name. Amen.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

Transcript generated by AI. Comment if you notice any errors!

Mark 13. I'm going to start reading in verse 24. Last week, we read the entire chapter and we'll kind of cover some of what happened before, but I'm going to read beginning in verse 24. It says:

"But in those days, after that tribulation, the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light and the stars will be falling from heaven and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. And then they will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory. And then he will send out the angels and gather his elect from the four winds from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven."

"From the fig tree learn its lesson. As soon as its branch becomes tender and puts out leaves, you know that summer is near. So also when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away."

"But concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard, keep awake, for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to stay awake. Therefore, stay awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening or at midnight or when the rooster crows or in the morning—lest he come suddenly and find you asleep. And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake."

I told Rory I was going to, every few minutes or so during the sermon, say to her, “Lorelei, stay awake.” I'm not actually going to do that, but Jesus repeats that phrase over and over there in the last section. Stay awake. That's why it's the title of the sermon.

As I mentioned last week, Mark 13 is a hard passage to put all the pieces together and understand what's going on. I'm just going to briefly now run over three—there's way more nuances than this, I mean, there's all kinds of different positions—but the three big buckets that people fall into as they interpret this.

The first one is to take everything that's in this chapter other than the destruction of the temple itself—so everything from verse 3 on—to take it all as in the future. That's probably the most common way people understand it today, to look at the wars and rumors of wars and the gospel being proclaimed in all the nations, the abomination of desolation—that's all out there in the future. We're waiting for that to happen.

Why I don't think that particular reading makes sense is because of what Jesus says in verse 30: “Truly I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place.” In a chapter full of symbols, a chapter full of confusing imagery for us, the clearest thing Jesus says is that these things will take place within one generation. And you could try to say, well, it's the generation that sees these things that's going to see him come back. Or you could say generation just means the world will be like this when he comes back. But everybody standing there listening to Jesus, everybody reading the first copies of Mark's gospel would have understood "generation" to mean about a 40-year period starting when Jesus said these words, which would put it between about 30, 33 AD, when Jesus spoke this, and 70 AD, you have the destruction of the temple. And one of the things we walked through last week was seeing, well, I think all of the things from verse 3 through verse 23 we can say were accomplished in that one generation.

So I don't think to look at this as all happening out in the future really makes sense of the text itself.

The second view is completely on the other side. If you want some theological jargon, it would be a full preterist reading of the text, and it would say that all of it's in the past. Everything here has already happened, including verses 24 to 27, the coming of the Son of Man. This again, it acknowledges the fulfillment of verses 3 through 23 before 70 AD, and it sees a connection between the destruction of the temple in verse 2 with the cosmic destruction language in verses 24 and 25.

And some of that makes sense. We'll talk about that in a minute. But in this view, the coming of the Son of Man that we read about in verse 26 is seen, instead of being Jesus coming back to earth, they take it as a picture of him ascending to his throne in heaven. The great strength of this view is that it takes Jesus' statement about, in verse 30, about all this happening within one generation—it takes that seriously. But I don't think it's the best way to understand Jesus in this chapter.

The third view, the one that I hold—albeit in a pretty loose grip because there's a lot of questions—but the view that I hold and that I've been teaching based on is to pay really close attention to that phrase, “these things.” I think some of these things are past. But then when he gets to verse 24, I think he's talking about something that's happening in the future.

The disciples asked in verse 4 when these things will happen. And then in verse 23, Jesus says, “I have told you all things.” And so I think what he's saying in verse 30 when he says, “these things will take place within one generation,” I think he's saying everything between verse 3 and verse 23, when he says all things have been told. And then I think what he's saying is that when we come to verse 24 and the coming of the Son of Man, what we have there is something that can happen after these things have taken place—after the preparation, after the signs of verses 3 through 23.

So again, hopefully that's clarifying. If it's not, you can come ask me questions. And just like last week when Jan came and asked me a question, my answer was, that's a really good question. I don't have all the answers. This is, again, a perplexing passage. But I think, again, we're going to get to the end and the main point of what Jesus is trying to say is incredibly clear. The reason he's telling these things is very, very clear.

So we're going to structure this message around three questions: What is the coming of the Son of Man (verses 24 to 27)? When is the coming of the Son of Man (verses 28 to 31)? And why does the coming of the Son of Man matter (verses 32 through 37)?

So what is the coming? Verses 24 and 25, it's some terrifying imagery. “In those days, after that tribulation, the sun will be darkened. The moon will not give its light. Stars will be falling from heaven and the powers in the heavens will be shaking.” When you read that, I mean, what's that sound like? It sounds like the end of the world, right? It sounds like chaos. The stars falling from the sky, like fireballs falling from heaven at the same time that the sun and moon have gone dark. So we're freezing and burning to death at the same time. Like it is terrifying imagery.

Well, should we read it literally? Yes and no. Literally in the sense of, yes, we should read it as it was literally intended to be read. To be honest, I prefer the term, we should read the Bible literarily. We should read it as it is intended to be read. And sometimes you're reading something that's intended to be taken literally. And sometimes you're reading something that is intentionally metaphorical. And so we should always read for the author's original intent—or here, Jesus' original intent—in using this language.

And Jesus isn't drawing this language out of thin air. This language of the sun and the moon going dark, of the skies being turned to blood—this is language that's present in the Old Testament prophets. So I just want to look at two passages quickly that use very similar language to this. It's not a direct quote, but it's very similar.

Isaiah 13. And here, this is an oracle that Isaiah sees of the judgment of Babylon. So God has given Isaiah this picture of judgment upon the nation of Babylon, who was going to come. Isaiah is prophesying around 700 AD, and the Babylonians come and capture Jerusalem a little over 100 years later. And so God is prophesying that after Babylon has conquered Judah, then God is going to judge Babylon.

Verse 9 of Isaiah 13: “Behold, the day of the Lord comes, cruel, with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation and to destroy sinners from it. For the stars of the heavens and their constellations will not give light. The sun will be dark at its rising, and the moon will not shed its light. I will punish the world for its evil and the wicked for their iniquity. I will put an end to the pomp of the arrogant and lay low the pompous pride of the ruthless. I will make people more rare than fine gold, and mankind than the gold of Ophir. Therefore I will make the heavens tremble, and the earth will be shaken out of its place, at the wrath of the Lord of hosts in the day of his fierce anger.”

Then over in Ezekiel, Chapter 32, here Ezekiel is singing a vision. He's raising a lamentation—a sad song—over Pharaoh and the king of Egypt. Ezekiel 32, verse 7 says: “When I blot you out, I will cover the heavens and make their stars dark. I will cover the sun with a cloud, and the moon shall not give its light. All the bright lights of heaven will I make dark over you and put darkness on your land,” declares the Lord.

So there in both Isaiah 13 and Ezekiel 32, we see similar language. There's also language like this in other prophets—Joel 2 in particular. But in each of those circumstances, what we see is God using this cosmic sun, moon, and stars language to describe his judgment upon a particular nation. And I think the image that we're supposed to have is that for these nations, when they receive the wrath of God, the judgment of God, it is going to feel like the sky is falling down on them. Everything that's solid and stable—people for thousands of years—we measure times and seasons by the stars. We measure every day by the sunlight that we have. And it's going to seem like everything that you know, everything that you count on, is thrown into upheaval when God brings judgment on the nation.

Now, again, the people who would say, “Yeah, all of Jesus' statements here in Mark 13, they're in the past”—what they would say is that then Jesus is using this language of this judgment to refer specifically to God's judgment on Jerusalem and on the temple in 70 AD.

And that's possible. That could be what it's talking about. I don't think that's what Jesus is doing here. I think he's taking that language that in the Old Testament was used for a particular time and a particular place and he's broadening it out and applying it to all nations and kingdoms at the end of history when Christ returns.

The reason I think that is because he connects it with other language from the Old Testament, from the book of Daniel. And we've looked at this passage a number of times while we've looked at Mark's gospel. Because it's incredibly important for understanding who Jesus is—thought himself to be and taught about who he was. And it's Daniel chapter seven, beginning in verse 13. Daniel writes:

"I saw in the night visions and behold, with the clouds of heaven, there came one like a son of man. And he came to the ancient of days and was presented before him. And to him was given dominion and a glory and a kingdom that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed."

And so Jesus is tying this judgment language from places like Ezekiel and Isaiah with this cosmic rule language—that he has power over all authorities in heaven and on earth, as Jesus says in Matthew 28. You know, he's taking these two images and he's putting them together.

And so when I think the picture that we have here in Mark 13 is when Jesus returns visibly on clouds of glory, it is a sign of judgment for the whole world—everyone underneath of his authority, which is everyone. Everyone's under the authority of Jesus. And it's judgment that's coming for all of those who are underneath his rule and yet refuse to bow to him. All of those in the world who refuse to acknowledge the Lordship of Jesus Christ, when he returns, they're out of chances.

And so what was a fearful time of judgment for Egypt and for Babylon in the past, for Jerusalem in 70 AD, when they came under the wrath of God, that time is coming for the whole world when Christ returns. The paradox here is that at the same time that Christ comes in judgment, it's also a message of salvation for his people.

Verse 27: "Then he will send out the angels and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of earth to the ends of heaven."

I was just talking with Kate about this yesterday—like in the scriptures, this idea of God's judgment and God's salvation coming at the same time is pervasive. You see this all the way back in the book of Genesis with the flood. When God comes and he looks at the earth and the earth is so full of sin and vileness that he decides to destroy it all—how does he do it? He does it with a flood. And the same flood that destroys the earth and destroys the people on it is the same flood that lifts to safety the ark with the people of God inside, Noah and his family. They are brought to safety through the same means that God brings judgment on the earth.

You see it in Luke. The Exodus—when God brings the people through the Red Sea, the waters part, they pass through, they're praising God for how he split the sea apart for them. And that same sea that's split so that the people of God could pass through in safety collapses in and brings judgment upon God's enemies, upon Pharaoh and his host as they seek to destroy the children of Israel.

And we see this most importantly in scripture at the cross. Because on the cross Jesus was absorbing the wrath of God against sin and sinners. Colossians 2 says on the cross Christ was canceling the record of debt that stood against us—the sins that we all commit, Christ bore on the tree, took the wrath of God until it was completely exhausted. And Jesus cried out on the cross, “It is finished.” He canceled the record of debt that stood against us.

In doing so, Colossians goes on to say, he was putting to shame all of the cosmic powers that line up against us. Satan and all of his hosts are destroyed, are made fun of. They still are active in the world, but they do not have the power they once had because Christ has taken away the power of sin and the power of death. Those things are not gone yet, but they do not have the teeth they once had because Christ in the cross is both displaying God's anger and hatred against sin and delivering all of those who would trust in him. That same death that we deserve for sin is a death that has brought us life.

The paradox of Christianity is that God's salvation and his judgment are not far-off realities from one another that we can't reconcile. They come together. His judgment against sin and his salvation of sinners always are present together.

When is his coming? If what is happening in verses 24 to 27 is Christ returning in power and glory to judge sin and to deliver his people, I think ultimately the picture we see in Revelation is that they're delivered to the new heavens and the new earth. And there's a great wedding feast—a wedding supper of the Lamb in Revelation 19. We're delivered to be with him forever in the presence of the Lord, as 1 Thessalonians says.

When does that happen? Verses 28 to 31 say this: "From the fig tree learn its lesson. As soon as its branch becomes tender and puts out its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near at the very gates. Truly I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away."

Jesus uses a fig tree multiple times as an example. And here he says, okay, you know that when the fig trees all start growing new growth and they put on their leaves, that's when you expect summer to be near. That's when you expect figs to be coming onto the tree. In that same way, when you see the signs of verses 3 through 23—wars and rumors of wars, Christians being persecuted, the gospel going to the Gentiles, and Christians, the destruction that happened in Jerusalem in the late 60s and into 70 AD—when you see all of that, you know that everything that has to be accomplished before Christ can return is accomplished.

This is part of why I think it's not useful or beneficial to us to be looking at the news going, “Oh, are the prophetic pieces lining up so that Christ could come back?” Christ can already come back. Everything that he said has to be accomplished has already been accomplished, and so he could come back at any moment. And he tells us this is sure. You should 100% be banking on the fact that Jesus is coming back. Verse 31 says, "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away."

When is he coming back? Well, it has to wait for all of those signs to take place. They've already taken place, and so we should expect that Jesus could come back at any time. Now, we know for 2,000 years he hasn't. We don't know an exact time and date, and we're going to find out in just a verse here that—duh—we should have known that already, that we don't know an exact time and date. But we should live with the expectation that he could come back at any moment.

That's what we're going to get to in this third part. Why does his coming matter? Why does Jesus tell his disciples this?

Verse 32: "But concerning that day or hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." So even the Son, Jesus, while he was on earth and choosing voluntarily to limit some of his access to divine knowledge—I think he was fully God, even in his earthly existence. And yet he chose, Philippians 2 says, he emptied himself. And so in taking on human form, Christ limited his access to some of divine knowledge and relied on the Spirit to guide him through this life. So he didn't at that point even know when he was coming back. Only the Father knows.

And he says, be on guard. Keep awake. So Jesus is telling his disciples about his coming back not so that they would be trying to figure out the date. He says no one knows. The angels don't know. The Son doesn't know. Only the Father knows. So we shouldn't be trying to go, “Is it 1989?” Oh, that one didn't work out. “1991?” That didn't work out. “2001?” That didn't work out. However many times, whatever that guy's name was—I can't remember—Harold Camping, whoever tried to predict it. He's not the only one that tried to predict the return of Christ and look like a fool every time, but still sell books about the next time he thinks it's going to happen. It drives me nuts. People are so gullible.

Anyway, he doesn't tell them that so that they can try to figure it out. They won't be able to. He also doesn't tell them that so that they will sit on their hands waiting around. One of the most important texts on the return of Christ in the New Testament is Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians in chapters four and five. But then in 2 Thessalonians, apparently there are some people in that church who are like, well, if Jesus could come back any time, let's just sit around and have a worship service the whole time. Let's just sit around and not do anything. We're just waiting for Jesus to come back. And Paul says, don't even hang out with people who are idle. If somebody's going to not work, if somebody's going to just sit around like, “Oh, we're waiting for Jesus to come back,” that's not somebody you should spend any time with. Get to work. Provide for yourself. Don't eat the bread of idleness. Eat your own bread. Work quietly and maintain a living. Keep working. Keep living.

So Jesus didn't tell us this to figure it out. He didn't tell us this to sit on our hands. Why is he saying this? It's the phrase he repeats over and over. So what does it mean? What does Jesus mean when he says, “Stay awake”?

Well, the analogy that he uses is helpful. It's like a master who goes on a journey and says, “Hey, you guys keep things running. You guys stay at your labors.” I remember when I was working for the post office when I was a city carrier. I was a city carrier for eight years, and you would just have your supervisor every now and then would just be like driving a loop, stopping to check on you. And that was—you didn't really want him to stop and check on you. Even if you're taking one of your officially allowed 10-minute breaks, you didn't want him to pull up during your 10-minute break when you're sitting there playing on your phone, right? You want him to come by when you're out carrying mail. I didn't even like when he pulled up and I'm sitting in my truck like organizing the mail. I just don't look like I'm working. I want to be out on the street when Gene drives by.

I remember one time before I was a carrier, I was a clerk for five years. And I was working in this teeny tiny office. I didn't have a whole heck of a lot to do. And so I had got done the things that I had to get done. And I could have found something more to do. Like, there was always something more to do. But I was sitting looking at houses on the computer and where it sat, like where the computer sat, like you are quite a walk out to the counter. And I heard a couple of people come to the counter. So I just left the computer screen open and I walk over, and there is the—called him the POOM—the post office operations manager, who was like the postmaster's boss, and then the district manager. So it was like the boss's boss’s boss were there in our teeny tiny office.

I was like, "Hey guys, how you doing?""Do you know who we are?""Yes, I know exactly who you are.""Well, can we come back and look?"So I walk around and let them in the access door. Forgot to close the screen on looking at the houses. They never said anything to me about it. But it was just like one of those incredibly embarrassing moments. Like, I'm getting paid to be at work, and I was blowing time doing something else.

And Jesus, I think here, is trying to get at that idea. He has ascended to the Father's right hand. He rules and he reigns right now. Christ has all authority in heaven and on earth. And as believers in him, he has left us here to be about his business—his business of just the normal stuff of life that he's given all human beings to do.

Genesis 1:26–28, the dominion mandate. We're supposed to go into the world and take dominion, to exercise God's authority over creation. And so just our normal jobs, whether that's at Jeff's Foods or whether it's at the post office or Wells or the Pheasant—like all the work that God has given human beings to do—we're supposed to do that as Christians for the glory of God.

Colossians 3:23 says to do all things as unto the Lord and not for men. It's from the Lord that we will receive a reward. And so Christ wants us to be living our normal lives, doing it, being diligent to be productive members of society for his glory.

And then specifically as Christians, we've been given the—I think what we could even call—the fulfillment of the dominion mandate, because what Adam and Eve were supposed to be doing is making God's name, his image, fill the earth. You know, it tells them to be fruitful and multiply. They're the image bearers of God in that original temple there in Eden, and they're supposed to go into the world and fill the world with God's image.

I think as Christians, when Jesus says, "Go into all the world and make disciples of all the nations," Mark 16:15, "Go into the world and preach the gospel to every creature," we have the further responsibility to take the message of the gospel to the ends of the earth. This is why Christ has left us here. He has left us here to make disciples and tell people about what Christ has done for us.

And it's really easy to just kind of sit on our laurels and coast through life. But Jesus wants us to be intentionally being productive and to intentionally be spreading the gospel so that when he comes, we don't have to be embarrassed about what's on our computer screen. We don't have to be embarrassed about what we did with the previous day.

We need to be consciously thinking and living in light of the fact that we have a risen Savior and our sins are forgiven. We have a reigning Savior. And so we have nothing—no matter what happens in the world around us, no matter what craziness, wars, rumors of wars, whatever else, people persecuting us—we don't have to be afraid because Jesus is the one who's ultimately in charge. And we have a returning Savior.

So we should be awake and working. Let's pray.

Father God, help us. It's easy to coast, to not think about you, to not think about what you would want us to be doing with our moments and our days. Help us to honor you with the time that you've given us and to stay awake, knowing that our Lord Jesus is returning to finally put the last enemy—death—under his feet and to usher in the kingdom where there is no more pain and no more sadness and no more mourning and no more tears.

Help us to look forward with hope through the hard times and to be motivated by the reality of his one day appearing, to be diligently at work serving you. We pray in Jesus' name. Amen.Amen.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

Transcript generated by AI. Please comment if you notice any errors!

When is Jesus coming back?

Some people hear a question like that and they're like, ooh, this is going to be an exciting thing to talk about. And some people are like, man, I should have slept in late today.

Surely it must be soon. I mean, look at the world around us, right? It's got to be soon. We hope so. Many people would say, yes, we know that he's coming back soon. Or if they don't have an outright yes to that, they'll say, well, we at least know the general time frame has to be soon. And sometimes those people who are telling you, yes, we can at least know the general time frame, will then have a paperback you can buy for $14.95 and find out all about it.

Since the 1970s, there's been an explosion of end times related media. It goes back further than that, but there was a real explosion in the 70s in Christian publishing and books with titles like The Late Great Planet Earth, The Day Approaching, or my favorite title I found, 2022 to 2042: The Final Days of Civilization.

If I sound a little sarcastic as I'm reading those titles, it's because I have read some of those books. And I've also read Mark 13, our chapter here, where in verse 32, Jesus says, “Concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” But maybe the people writing prophecy books know better than Jesus.

It's very easy to be consumed with looking for signs of the times, drawing up charts of what future events will hold, and in doing so completely miss the point of biblical prophecy and apocalyptic literature. So that's an error on one side, to just get consumed by it. But there's also an error on the other side, if in reaction to some of the crazy that's out there, we fail to see the genuine important role that prophetic literature plays in the Scriptures.

Over 30% of the Bible is prophecy. Now, a lot of that prophecy is already fulfilled. But nonetheless, this is a huge portion of God's Word that falls into the genre of prophetic literature. But when we're looking at it—looking at any part of the Bible, but prophecy especially—we have to be careful to let the Bible itself drive our thinking and drive our priorities.

It's good. There's nothing wrong with having our own questions, having our own priorities when we come to the Bible and looking for Scripture's answers to those questions. But we need to be careful in imposing our current questions on the ancient text. God's Word does have answers, but sometimes what God's Word does is actually change our questions. The Bible should be the source of our questions as much as it is the source of our answers, which is a long way of saying in Mark 13, I'm looking for the intent of Jesus, the speaker, and Mark, the author.

I'm not concerned first and foremost when I read these kinds of texts with how to make sense of news reports out of Russia or Iran or Israel. So as we come to Mark 13, we're looking at one of the most contested, the most controversial passages in the New Testament. It and its parallels in Matthew and Luke are called the Olivet Discourse. And as many commentaries as you read, you will find twice that many opinions on what this text is talking about.

And I want to be clear that there are disagreements over this passage between Christians who love the Lord, love His Word, and genuinely want to understand it. Some of the imagery in this text is just hard to understand and to make it all fit together. And these details can be disagreed upon by Christians in good faith. And while I won't say that it doesn't matter what you believe about it, I think we can disagree sometimes about the details and still agree on the main point that Jesus is trying to drive home. I hope I'll show that as we go through the sermon.

We don't have the time and you probably don't have the interest—at least most of you—for me to walk through all of the different ways you could interpret each of these different images and pictures that Jesus gives in this text. That would turn into an entire sermon series. So what we're going to do is this.

We're covering Mark 13 over the next two weeks. This week, I'm going to read through the whole chapter and make big overview comments on how I think it fits together. And then we'll zoom back in on verses 3 through 23, which is what the bulletin says we're paying attention to this week. And I'll give what I think are the most plausible, best ways to understand those verses. And then at the end of the sermon, we'll conclude by really zooming in on what I think is Jesus' main point in the text—what He's trying to do as He gives this information to His disciples.

And that's this: I'll give you it ahead of time. The disciples need to have their eyes wide open as they face. They need to be on guard as they face hardship and trial in this life.

So let's read Mark chapter 3, beginning in verse 13. It says this. Not beginning in verse 13—Mark 13, beginning in verse 1.

As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings." And Jesus said to him, "Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down."

And as he sat on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter and James and John and Andrew asked him privately, "Tell us, when will these things be? And what will be the sign when all these things are about to be accomplished?"

And Jesus began to say to them, "See that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. And when you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. This must take place, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. These are but the beginning of the birth pains.

But be on your guard. For they will deliver you over to councils, and you will be beaten in synagogues, and you will stand before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them. And the gospel must first be proclaimed to all nations. And when they bring you to trial and deliver you over, do not be anxious beforehand what you are to say, but say whatever is given you in that hour, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit.

And brother will deliver brother over to death, and the father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death. And you will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.

But when you see the abomination of desolation standing where he ought not to be (let the reader understand), then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Let the one who is on the housetop not go down, nor enter his house to take anything out, and let the one who is in the field not turn back to take his cloak. And alas for women who are pregnant and for those who are nursing infants in those days! Pray that it may not happen in winter.

For in those days there will be such tribulation as has not been from the beginning of the creation that God created until now, and never will be. And if the Lord had not cut short the days, no human being would be saved. But for the sake of the elect, whom he chose, he shortened the days.

And then if anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Christ!’ or ‘Look, there he is!’ do not believe it. For false christs and false prophets will arise and perform signs and wonders, to lead astray, if possible, the elect. But be on guard; I have told you all things beforehand.

But in those days, after that tribulation, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. And then they will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory. And then he will send out the angels and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts out its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

But concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard, keep awake. For you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to stay awake.

Therefore stay awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or in the morning—lest he come suddenly and find you asleep. And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake."

This is God's word.

So we need to remember where this text is picking up from. Chapters 11 and 12, we have essentially two full chapters of Jesus condemning the religious hypocrisy of first-century Jewish worship. And last week we saw him talking to his disciples and warning the crowds about the dangers of self-righteous religious leaders, self-righteous religious attitudes, and self-righteous religious infrastructure. And that culminated with the prophecy here in chapter 13, verse 2, where Jesus says one day the temple itself would be brought down—not one stone left upon another.

Now, considering that the stones of the temple—at least the foundation stones—weighed literally millions of pounds, they were about 37 feet by 12 feet by 18 feet. These stones are enormous. It would be pretty hard to believe that such a grand structure is going to be torn down stone by stone.

As Jesus and the disciples then exited the city, they would have walked across the Kidron Valley. And the entire time, this grand temple would have been visible to them. And there were parts of it that were plated in gold. And so as they're walking down through the Kidron Valley in the evening, they're looking up. The sun's glistening off the gold. And they come and they sit up on the Mount of Olives opposite, looking back towards the temple. And the disciples—Jesus' first four disciples, Peter, James, John, and Andrew—they pull him aside and ask, "When is this going to be?" Like, this is hard to even picture. "When is this going to happen, Jesus? What will be the sign that these things are going to be accomplished?"

We've got to remember, these men are first-century Jews. They're waiting for the Messiah to come and restore Israel's glory. And they see Jesus as that Messiah, that one who's going to come and restore glory. And now he's talking about tearing down the temple. And that would be just confusing for them. They would see it in connection with essentially the end of the world—some epoch-changing, world-shaking event.

The temple isn't just a building. It's the place where God meets with man. That's where the sacrificial system takes place. It's got the Holy of Holies in it. For it to come down would mean the end of the world—or something very near to the end of the world.

This end of the world thing is about to be accomplished. The disciples are looking for a sign. They're looking for all the things that would be accomplished before Jesus inaugurated his earthly kingdom, before he came back in power and in glory.

Jesus says—before he talks about his return in verses 24 to 27—that in verse 23, he has told them all things beforehand. So I think what Jesus is saying is that in verses 3 through 23, he's giving all of the signs. In those verses, we have everything that happens that has to happen before he comes back in power and in glory. Then in verse 30, when Jesus says that all these things will be accomplished, he's talking about all the signs. He's not talking about the return itself. I think that's how the logic of the passage fits together. Again, there are different opinions on that, but that's the way I think makes the most sense of Jesus' words.

So what are the signs? Beginning in verse 6, Jesus gives a complex of signs, which he collectively refers to as the beginning of the birth pains. These are commonly cited verses when people look at our current world and say, “This has got to be talking about today.”

Verse 6: Jesus talks about many people being led astray from the truth.Verse 7: wars and rumors of wars.Verse 6 again: false Christs.Verse 8: nations rising against one another, kingdoms rising against one another, natural disasters like earthquakes and famine.

We look out at the world and we go, “Yeah, all that stuff is happening today,” and that’s true—those things do characterize our day. But remember, the first audience for these words are the disciples in AD 33. They would have been reminded of these words when they heard about wars and rumors of wars in their time.

False Christs—or as 1 John says, antichrists—were going out into the world, deceiving people. Many of the New Testament letters were written to combat falsehoods already present in the churches. They were already in the first centuries of Christianity. We often think about the early churches as this primitive era where Christians had everything right and were so much closer to Jesus. But almost all of the New Testament letters are written to combat false teaching and errors that are already pulling people away from Jesus.

What about famines? In the year 45, Egypt experienced extra-high floodwaters on the Nile. They counted on floodwaters every year as part of how they planted their crops. But if they had too much, it would destroy a lot—something we’re familiar with here in Iowa. It set Egypt back to the point where it started a decade-long series of bad harvests, which then affected other parts of the empire. In the year 57, there was such a bad famine around Jerusalem that the Apostle Paul was collecting money to help the famine-stricken Jewish church.

What about earthquakes? The Roman historian Tacitus records that in the year 50, there was a whole series of earthquakes that seemed unusual. In the year 62, the city that would later be destroyed in 79 by the eruption of Vesuvius had already been heavily damaged by an earthquake. That earthquake is estimated to be between 5 and 6 on the Richter scale. Earthquakes were all around. These things were happening in the world of the disciples in the first century—they would have been on their radar.

The second thing we see in this passage is persecutions. Verses 9 through 13 talk about this. Jesus warns in verse 9: they will deliver you over to councils, you will be beaten in synagogues, and you will stand before governors and kings for my sake to bear witness before them. This is essentially the story of the book of Acts.

In Acts 4, Peter and John are dragged before the council of the ruling elders—the Sanhedrin. In Acts 6, men from the synagogue of the Freedmen dispute with Stephen. He’s dragged before the council and eventually stoned to death. In Acts 24, Paul stands before the governor Felix. In chapter 26, he stands before King Agrippa, appealing his case all the way to Caesar. In chapter 28 of Acts, Paul ends up in Rome bearing witness to the truth for at least two years.

The history of the early church was one of persecution beginning in Jerusalem, then in Judea and Samaria, and to the uttermost parts of the Roman world. Jesus sent them with his message to Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the uttermost parts of the earth—persecution followed them the whole way. By the time Paul's life ends (between AD 64 and 68), the gospel had covered the known world. Disciples had gone down into India, up into Europe, all over the Roman world. It had been proclaimed among the nations, among the Gentiles—and all the while, God's people were hated.

Jesus told his disciples that families would turn against one another and all would hate them because they hated him first. That’s what Jesus said in John 15: “Know that if the world hates you, it hated me first.” Jesus is saying the same thing here: you're going to take my message out, and persecution will come. The disciples must be hated before he returns in glory to save them. They could say, “Check, that happened to us.” They're being beaten, imprisoned, and killed.

Maybe the most perplexing part of this passage begins in verse 14: “When you see the abomination of desolation standing where he ought not to be—let the reader understand—then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains.” That language, “abomination of desolation,” comes from Daniel’s prophecy, chapter 9, verses 26–27. Many Jews considered this already fulfilled in their time because in 168 BC, Antiochus Epiphanes—the Seleucid ruler—had conquered Jerusalem. He saw himself as Zeus incarnate, set up an altar to himself in the temple, and began slaughtering pigs on that altar.

Many Jews considered that an abomination that made desolate the worship in the temple. But Jesus takes that language and puts it into the future. Yes, what Antiochus did was bad, but something else is still coming.

Mark apparently inserts the phrase “let the reader understand,” suggesting his first-century readers should recognize what’s happening. I think the most likely way to understand this is to look at the actions of the Jewish zealots during their war with Rome in the AD 60s. The zealots were fighting to become independent from Rome. They set up shop in the temple. Thieves and murderers were allowed to roam. Murders took place in the temple itself. They even installed a new high priest—a man named Phanni (or Fanny), who was essentially a clown by trade. They made a mockery of worship in the temple.

This is right before the destruction of the temple in AD 70 when the Romans came in. One retired priest lamented, “It would have been far better for me to have died before I had seen the house of God laden with such abominations.”

There are two main reasons I think this fits Jesus' description of the abomination of desolation: (1) what the zealots did was abominable, horrendous, sacrilegious; and (2) it fits perfectly with what Jesus says to do next: flee.

When they see this abomination, Jesus says let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Make all haste in getting out of town. Pray these things don’t happen in inclement weather. Pity the nursing mothers or pregnant women, for whom travel would be difficult. In winter, not necessarily because of snow, but because water levels would rise, making it harder to cross rivers for safety.

If you’re on your rooftop—remember, they had outdoor staircases—don’t even go back inside to get anything. Just run straight for the hills.

This fits well, because during the Jewish rebellion against Rome, there was opportunity when people heard what was happening, to escape the city and to escape with their lives, many Christians actually did so. They formed another community outside of town, but once it was too late, it was too late. The city was destroyed, the temple was destroyed, and over a million Jews were slaughtered in that war. For Jews, this would have been worse than anything else in the history of all creation.

Now, one difficulty with this understanding is the universal language in verses 19 and 20: "Such tribulation has never been, never will be. If the Lord had not cut short the days, no human being would have been saved." The best way to answer that challenge is the fact that prophetic language sometimes universalizes. If there’s an intensely horrible circumstance, sometimes what you’ll read in the prophets—even in the Old Testament—is language that says that the ears of all the earth will tingle when they hear of it. Well, when the prophet in Israel says that, that doesn’t mean that somebody in South America’s ears are tingling, but it does mean that anybody who comes in contact with this news is absolutely going to tremble. And there was never before anything like that intense period of destruction in Jerusalem as there was in the days leading up to the destruction of the temple.

So hopefully that clears up some of the most perplexing elements of the passage—or maybe it just leaves you even more confused. In either case, we should be asking, what do I do with this?

Jesus gives us these words. He gives us these instructions for a purpose. And thankfully, Jesus does not leave us hanging with what he wants us to do. I wonder if you noticed, as we went through these signs, that each of them comes in the form of a warning. Jesus is warning his disciples, standing before him in the first century, of the things that would surely take place before the destruction of the temple in AD 70, which would have to take place before the second coming as described in verses 24 to 27. And he warns them because he wants them to know how to respond when these events surely do come.

Now, as I said, I think that the conditions of all of those things were fulfilled prior to AD 70. Nonetheless, the same circumstances abound today and Christ has not come back. So in that sense, we’re still living in the same world that those apostles were. There are still wars and rumors of wars, and false prophets and teachers, and Christians are still persecuted. And so the lessons for the disciples there apply to us as well.

I think Jesus’ warning can be summarized in three words: Be on guard.

Be on guard. Be on guard, first of all, against alarmist fear. Verse 5, the phrase that here in the English Standard Version is translated “see that,” is the same phrase as “be on guard” in verses 9, 23, and 33. Jesus is first of all saying to be on guard that no one leads you astray. Verse 5: “See that no one leads you astray.” Be on guard that no one leads you astray.

Like we talked about last week, any religious leader, any movement that’s trying to take you away from Jesus—where the focus is not pulling you back to Christ, to Christ, to the real Christ—and is trying to lead you away with some new teaching or something that is kind of like Jesus but not as he’s revealed in Scripture, that’s something we must be on guard against.

Well, what’s one method that people use to do that? Fear. Alarmist fear. Fear is one of the most powerful motivators for human beings. This is one of my main critiques of a lot of the prophecy-focused media and literature. There’s this tone of fear and terror: the bad guys are coming, the bad days are coming. And that kind of fear sells books. It motivates people to keep spending their money and find out more and keep clicking through the YouTube videos. But it doesn’t motivate Christian obedience.

As Jesus says in verse 7, “Do not be alarmed.” That’s a hard one for us when we see crazy things in the world. But Jesus says, “Do not be alarmed. This must take place, but the end is not yet.” When you look at the chaos in the world, yeah, you’ve got to have eyes in your head. Don’t pretend it’s not there. We don’t live in a Pollyanna. The trouble is real, but do not be alarmed or afraid because you know the one who reigns over history. And he is not confused or baffled or helpless when he sees all of the wars and rumors of wars. This is all part of his plan and purpose for human history. So be on guard against alarmist fear.

Second, be on guard against the fear of persecution. Jesus’ disciples in the first century, and we in the 21st, must be on guard against the fear of persecution. Jesus predicted that they would be dragged before civil and religious authorities for their belief and proclamation that Jesus is Lord. But he told them, number one, that this should not prevent them from preaching the gospel. Verse 10 says, “The gospel must be proclaimed in all nations.” So he’s saying you’re going to be persecuted for this, but you’ve still got to do it. You’ve still got the job in front of you.

How much of the world around us does not have a strong gospel witness? There are languages and people groups who don’t have any witness. They don’t have the scriptures. They don’t have missionaries. Even places that we would consider Christianized or formerly Christian are increasingly less and less so. Much of what we consider the developed Western world—there’s a Christian heritage, but it does not seem to be exercising much influence at this point. France was once a Christian country, and we saw the beginning of the Olympics. We need to continue pursuing to bring the light of the gospel—the good news of Jesus’ death in the place of sinners, and his resurrection promise of eternal life for everyone who believes in him—the forgiveness of their sins, even if bringing that message is risky or costly.

For some, that cost might be physical harm. For us here, it’s probably going to be more emotional, relational harm. The risks of witnessing to Jesus, though—whatever they are—are absolutely worth it.

Second, he told them they don’t need to be anxious, and therefore we do not need to be anxious over exactly what to say when witnessing for Christ. The Holy Spirit will give you the words when you need them.

Jesus endured the cross, and he rose victorious from the grave in your place. We serve a God who, as G.K. Chesterton put it, “knows the way out of the grave.” So share the gospel with that friend or that family member even if you don’t think your words are perfect. Your words aren’t perfect. You will say things that are wrong. You will make mistakes. That’s not going to hinder God. He just wants you to pursue faithfulness.

Confidently live for Christ, even if you think it might cost you socially. Don’t be afraid of who’s watching. Their watching you is part of the point—that they too might come to know and love Christ, that they would see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us. That’s what Peter says in 1 Peter. Be on guard against the fear of persecution.

Third, be on guard against those who would lead you astray. The first two are about not fearing, but then you’ve got to be on guard against those who would lead you away from the right fear. The third section of our text, verses 14 to 23, is where Jesus discusses the need to flee from the destruction of Jerusalem. And there he warns against false Christs and prophets who would lead many astray.

This had happened in Israel’s history before—like in the time of Jeremiah. God sent the prophet Jeremiah to tell the people: this place will be destroyed. You need to, for them, go willingly to Babylon and live for Christ there. But then there were false prophets who were saying, “Peace, peace,” where there was no peace. And they said, “It’s all going to be okay. God’s judgment isn’t coming. It’s all going to turn around.” It wasn’t going to turn around. God’s judgment was falling.

1 Peter 4:17 says that judgment begins in God’s house. First of all, he judged the house of Israel. The church too, at times, faces periods of purging. Beware of anyone who says that following God means smooth seas and easy sailing—who, in the words of Jeremiah 6, say “Peace, peace,” where there is no peace. Following Christ guarantees a good life, an abundant life with meaning and purpose. It does not promise an easy life.

Even in the midst of hard days, though, we can and we must cling to Christ. Verse 13 says, “The one who endures to the end will be saved.” Friends, Jesus wants us to live on our guard, to be on guard against fear. Do not fear your circumstances. Do not fear the circumstances out there in the world. Do not fear disapproval from mere human beings, no matter how close to you or how important to you they may be. Fear the Lord, and let that holy and righteous fear order your thinking.

Proverbs 1:9 says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.” Proverbs 9:10 says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” Trust in Christ to save you both from the eternal judgment of God, but also to preserve you and carry you through hard days on earth.

Let us, as Peter says in 1 Peter 4:18, entrust our souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.

Let’s pray.

Father God, thank you that we can entrust our souls to you who are faithful, while we pursue obedience to you, while we pursue honoring our Lord Jesus Christ. Lord, we do live in a crazy world—a world full of sin, a world full of consequences for that sin, a world that’s often chaotic and full of false teaching and false teachers and those who would lead us away from you. And Father, we just ask for your Holy Spirit to keep us close to Christ. Keep us in your word. Keep us submitted to you and seeking to live in a way that reflects you to those around us. We pray in Jesus’ name,Amen.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com

Initial transcription generated by Substack, paragraphing and summary generated by ChatGPT.

Sermon Summary: "Beware of Self-Righteousness"

Main Passage: Mark 12:38–13:2

1. Beware of Self-Righteous Religious Leaders

* Key Idea: Some leaders crave recognition, titles, and power rather than humbly serving God’s people.

* Warning: Jesus explicitly condemns such behavior, promising greater condemnation for those who misuse their role for self-glorification or personal gain (e.g., “devouring widows’ houses”).

* Application: Don't follow leaders who aren’t following Christ. If they’re not leading you to Jesus, they’re leading you away from Him.

2. Beware of Self-Righteous Religious Attitudes

* Illustration: The widow's offering (Mark 12:41–44).

* Contrast: Rich people give from their abundance (externally impressive), but the poor widow gives everything she had—a demonstration of genuine faith.

* Condemnation: Jesus not only honors her, He indirectly rebukes the system that left her impoverished—a religious culture that demanded from the vulnerable while flattering the wealthy.

* Modern Parallels: The prosperity gospel and manipulative church practices prey on both the desperate and the self-satisfied.

* Application: Examine your heart—is your giving or religious activity about true devotion, or about checking boxes and feeling good about yourself?

3. Beware of Self-Righteous Religious Infrastructure

* Event: Jesus predicts the destruction of the temple (Mark 13:1–2).

* Point: The temple, though majestic, had become an idol. The people trusted the system rather than the Savior it was meant to point to.

* Fulfillment: Within 40 years (AD 70), the temple was destroyed, validating Jesus' prophecy and God's judgment.

* Application: Don’t trust in buildings, systems, rituals, or tradition. They are not the source of salvation. Christ is.

Final Exhortation: Look to Christ Alone

* Righteousness is not earned by external behavior or association with religious structures.

* Jesus alone—His perfect life, atoning death, resurrection, and ascension—is sufficient.

* Salvation is a gift, not a reward.

* The core question to continually ask: “Am I being pointed to Christ?”

Conclusion Prayer:

The sermon ends with a prayer acknowledging our human tendency toward self-righteousness and asking God to fix our eyes on Jesus—our only hope for salvation and the source of true righteousness.

Sermon Transcript

Mark chapter 12.

In the old Disney Winnie the Pooh movie, there is a song about Heffalumps and Woozles. This song takes place in a dream of Pooh's, and if you remember it—if you don't remember it, it's on YouTube, and you're going to go watch it and be creeped out—but if you do remember it, you will remember that in this dream, the animation is absolutely terrifying. It makes you wonder, like, what Pooh ate in his honey that day. But throughout the song, there's this warning, this theme that bounces over and over: "Beware, beware, beware, beware."

And what Pooh is supposed to beware of are these Heffalumps and Woozles. But in our text today, Jesus is actually going to be singing that same "beware" tune. The word only occurs once in the first part of the passage, but the tone of "beware" pulses through the entire passage. However, unlike the honey-thieving Heffalumps and Woozles that Pooh is worried about, the dangers Jesus addresses—that he tells his disciples and us today to beware of—are not imaginary. Jesus warns about the very real threats of self-righteous religious leaders, self-righteous religious practice, and self-righteous religious infrastructure.

So Mark chapter 12, beginning in verse 38, we'll read on down through chapter 13 and verse 2. It says this:

And in his teaching, he said, "Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and like greetings in the marketplaces and have the best seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at feasts, who devour widows' houses and for a pretense make long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation."

And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, "Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she, out of her poverty, has put in everything she had, all she had to live on."

And as he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings!" And Jesus said to him, "Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down."

So it's in this first warning, the first section here, verses 38 through 40, that we find Jesus using our theme word of "beware." And what does he tell the people who are gathered around him in the temple? What does he tell them to beware of? He says, "Beware of the scribes."

The scribes were the experts in the law. They were the teachers of the law. In fact, if you've got an NIV in front of you, they actually translate that term "scribe" as "teachers of the law." That was their role in Israel. Of course, in the ancient world, there's only a certain number of people who are taught to read at all, but then to read complex legal documents. These guys would have had a civil function, but then also a religious function as those who understood the law of Moses and could teach it.

Some of these teachers were associated primarily with groups like the Sadducees. And so they were experts in just the five books of the law, the Torah of Moses. And then some had a broader understanding of the scriptures—they were experts in the whole Bible. And so in the Old Testament, you hear about Ezra being a scribe. He was a scribe who, in fact, probably wrote a good portion of the Old Testament. He knew the whole thing. There were those in the New Testament times who lined up with the Pharisees, and they were experts in all of the Old Testament law.

But here Jesus doesn't draw distinctions between the groups. He just lumps them all together. All the scribes—they're all the same, he says. And he says to the people who are gathered around him, "Beware of those crooks."

What is the basis of Jesus' warning against these religious leaders? He says these men are lovers of long robes, official titles, and the best seats. What's wrong with that? I'd ask. Those sound like pretty nice things—fancy clothes, nice titles, good seats. Nothing in and of themselves, right? There's nothing inherently wrong with robes or titles or seats. The trouble enters because these men are lovers of these things. More than the things, they love what these things represent. They love the praise of men. They like their religious roles because of the benefits for their egos.

They love to wear long robes because then when they go out in public, people will see them. They'll see them and recognize that, oh, that's somebody important. And that leads to the next thing that they really like. They love to be greeted with their official titles. "Oh, most wise scribe. Hello, greetings, rabbi." And when you make sure to wear your important-looking clothes out in public so that people know who you are, then they're really apt to do the other thing that you like, which is to give you the best seats.

You'll get to sit up front in the synagogue meeting. The more important you were in those meetings, the closer you could sit to the front. So women and children had to sit clear at the back, and then men of increasing importance could move closer to the front. And if you were one of the very most important, you got to sit in there. Well, the teacher got to sit in Moses's seat. But then back behind that, there was a bench, and the elders could sit on the seat that faced back out to the congregation. You actually still see this in some churches, where there will be a group of people who get to sit on the stage and look back at the rest of the congregation.

Or at feasts, the host would sit at the head of the table, right? They're the one putting the feast on. But then the most prominent seats would be right up there next to the host. And these guys liked to sit up there next to him. And of course, the host of the feast—if you are an important-looking religious figure—he's going to look good if he puts you up at the head. So just keep on wearing your robes, keep on carrying your title around so that people will treat you with deference and honor.

The scribes loved their religious role—but did this come from a sincere love for God? Apparently not, Jesus says. Because they devour widows' houses. They have long prayers. Oh, they like to pray for a long time. They like to pray in public. But Jesus says that this is for a pretense—it's a show. They were not praying to God; they were praying for the audience.

Jesus warns his disciples about the scribes in particular, but we need to realize that these same characteristics are all over religious leadership today. Many men who end up in ministry do so because they have a deep desire to be seen as significant, important, valuable, worthy—like they're just in it for their own egos. Sometimes that's conscious. Sometimes it's not. They don't even realize that's what they're doing. They clamor for men's applause. But they've discovered a way that seems a lot more holy than climbing the business ladder or moving through the political system. They're going to do all of this "for the Lord." How noble.

I said earlier that there's nothing necessarily wrong with long robes. I'll lay my cards on the table here, though, and say that this passage is part of why I'm suspicious of any kind of clergy vestments. In some traditions, it's the fancy robes. In other traditions, it's the expectation that the pastor is going to wear a fancy suit with diamond cuff links—better dressed than anybody else there.

When I stand here, I want to look like an adult, maybe even a respectable adult for the most part. I don't want to look like a slob. I want to honor the role of "I'm bringing God's word," right? I'm the pastor, the preacher here. But I don't ever want to be dressed in such a way that suggests that as pastor, I'm anything more important than anyone else in this room.

Same thing with titles. If someone demands to be called by a title, that ought to give you automatic suspicion of them. Jesus says in Matthew 23:8–9, "You are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brothers." Now, I think we have to be careful about absolutizing Jesus' statement there, because he did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it. And the law includes things like "honor your father and your mother." If you have a father—like a literal father—it’s still right to call him dad or father. And if you have someone who's teaching you—you've got a teacher in school or somebody who's teaching you God's word—I don't think it's wrong to say, "Hello, teacher," especially if you don't know their name. It's probably nicer than saying, "Hey, you."

However, you need to be careful about titles. I'm not going to be offended if you call me Pastor Will, Pastor, Elder—those are biblical words for the office that I have. But you don't need to. My name is Will. And while I have a certain role in our congregation and it has an associated title, the more important connection between me and you is that we're all human beings made in the image of God.

We're all sinners, marked by our rebellion against Him. And if you've trusted in Christ, then we're both redeemed people who are now brothers and sisters in His family. We are God's children. And in that sense, titles really don't have a place. I'm not your father. I'm not your priest. God is our Father, and Christ is our priest. I am your brother in Christ.

There's a double warning here. The warning for the religious leaders who love the trappings of office, title, and men's praise is this: their condemnation is coming. That's what Jesus says: "They will receive the greater condemnation." James says in James 3: "Let not many of you become teachers." So again, he's acknowledging that there is such a role as a teacher, right? And it's okay for that title to be associated with it—we’ve got to call it something. But don't let many of you be teachers, because with that role comes a greater condemnation.

So if you are in the place of the scribe and you are not incredibly careful in how you represent Christ—if you are in the place of teaching His Word to His people—you are heaping up condemnation for yourself. If you ever use religious office as a means of advancing yourself, Jesus says, you will lose your soul. That's evidenced clearly in the fact that these men have already lost their soul. They're happy to devour widows’ houses.

James 1:27 says that true religion—undefiled religion—is this: that you visit orphans and widows in their distress and keep yourself unstained from the world. These men? They're not helping the widows; they're devouring their houses. This would happen sometimes literally—in the sense that because scribes were trained legally, they would sometimes handle estates. And they would just siphon the money out of a widow’s livelihood to “support the Lord's work” in the synagogue or in the temple. And it would benefit them. It would line their pockets.

Sometimes it would just be allowing the expectation to persist: “You keep giving.” Even after your husband dies, you’ve got to keep giving at the same level. These men who were happy to soak widows dry so long as it kept their ministry going and financially solvent—God cut them down. He promised He would, and He did. And for those who are in similar positions of religious authority today—if they are willing to devour widows' houses—God will cut them down.

That's the direct warning. But why would Jesus warn those listening to beware of such leaders? Because leaders who are not headed towards Christ will lead you away from Christ. If your religious leaders are not taking you to Jesus, they are taking you away from Him.

You see that in the next section. Again, verses 41–44 say this:

"He sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And He called His disciples to Him and said to them, 'Truly I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had—all she had to live on.'"

After warning about self-righteous religious leaders, Jesus sat down to people-watch. But He didn't sit down at the mall. He didn't sit down on the beach. He sat down in the treasury in the temple. And the treasury had these 13 trumpet-shaped receptacles for money—a place where people would put in their offerings.

As He’s sitting there, Jesus observes many people coming to drop their money in. I don’t know if you ever remember as a kid putting money in the offering plate as it went by. I remember when I was a kid, when our church changed from wooden offering plates to metal ones that matched our communion set. And if you’re a kid, the sound of the penny or the quarter hitting that metal—that was great. That was very satisfying.

Now, imagine: instead of being a little kid with some pocket change, you are a rich person in a society where all the money is coins. A large sum of money that you’ve brought to the temple treasury is going to go into that metal trumpet, basically. How are you going to strategize this? Are you going to dump it all in at once so everybody hears it? Or are you going to go one at a time—stand there for a day and a half with the smallest denomination of money you can find so you can just keep dropping it in? Or maybe you’ll try to do a steady pour—lots of sound for a long time. It’s not hard to see how this could go very, very wrong, depending on your heart.

But while rich person after rich person comes and deposits their loads of coins into the treasury, in walks a poor widow. Quiet. She only has two small copper coins, which the ESV says make a penny. Literally, the denomination of coin referred to would be 1/64th of a denarius. A denarius was a day’s wage. So this is maybe the equivalent of two or three bucks. That’s all she has, and she’s going to drop it in the trumpet.

Jesus sees this. He’s been watching the rich put in all this money out of their abundance. But He calls His disciples over and says, “See this woman? She is the one who has truly given more than everybody else here today. She’s given everything she had to live on.”

With this statement, Jesus is doing two things. The first and most obvious is that He is commending the poor widow. Her religious practice of giving is absolutely genuine and heartfelt. She’s not looking for fanfare or applause. She’s putting in two tiny coins—no one’s applauding that. She’s not getting a plaque or anything named after her in the temple. That’s not what she’s looking for. She doesn’t have much, but she still wants to give to the Lord and to His work. And He honors that gift.

Friends, the Lord does not measure the value of your giving in dollars and cents. He commands you to love Him with your whole self. It’s really easy to give a little off the top or to give what’s left over after everything else. For some people, what’s left over or off the top can add up to a pretty sizable chunk of change. But Jesus isn’t looking for leftovers. The kind of giving He recognizes as valuable is both cheerful and generous. That’s what 1 Corinthians tells us. That’s what we see exemplified in this woman.

She gave everything she had, in confidence that the Lord who had provided her with those couple of dollars could still provide her with daily bread and anything else she needed. Do you have that same confidence in the Lord? And does it come through in how you budget your money? That’s a question each of us ought to ask.

And yet, while that’s important, I think Jesus is actually making a bigger point in this text. Because embedded in His statement that this poor widow has given all she had to live on is a reminder of what He just said about the scribes: they devour widows' houses. Why is this woman down to her last dime? Why is she at the point of having to choose whether to give her money to God or to the grocer? Because the religious authorities have already bled her dry.

And this too is something we sadly see in our day. If you’re familiar with the prosperity gospel—or even if you're not—it’s as close as any Christian television station or YouTube channel. They’ll ask you to send money in, promising to pray for you, sometimes assuring you of healing if you’ll just “have enough faith” and send that check or call in with your credit card.

There are traveling evangelists and healers who operate by that same principle: if you give money, God will bless you. If you give money, you’ll get better. If you give money, little Johnny who walked away from the Lord will surely come back—just don’t forget that check. You’re making it possible for us to continue this ministry with your finances.

These people should be trying to help the widow—to minister to her in her distress. As we already saw in James 1:27. But they don’t see a soul in need of ministry. They see one more pocket they can pick clean. It was true in first-century Jerusalem, and it’s true today. And sadly, it's not just people on TV or traveling preachers. It can be true of local pastors and local congregations.

These types of schemers always prey upon the most vulnerable people in churches and societies—and God hates that hypocrisy. He will, again, cut them down.

Now, you might agree with all that and ask: What does this have to do with self-righteousness? You said this point was about self-righteousness.

Well, friends, the same people who are happy to empty the pockets of the vulnerable are also happy to take those off-the-top gifts from the more well-off—in exchange for not stepping on their toes. You can’t actually fund a ministry just with poor widows’ leftovers, right?

You've got to get people who will really give, and the way you do that is by speaking and teaching in such a way that pleases them—tickling their ears. That same prosperity gospel that appeals to someone in desperate need sounds pretty good to someone who's doing well. If faith and trusting God and giving a little bit is what makes you successful, and I'm doing pretty well, then that must mean God really likes me. That must mean I'm okay with God. It must mean I don't have sin I need to repent of.

The same teaching that devours widows' houses makes the proverbially fat and happy feel very at ease. Jesus taught to cut at the heart. But these teachers and religious leaders will happily let you slide in, slide out, maybe give you a list of rules now and then—because we all need a few rules to keep. And thank you for leaving that extra abundance on your way out the door. God bless. Now go live your best life now.

The same religious environment that breeds widow-devouring practices also breeds self-righteous and heartless worship. "I checked the boxes and I dropped the check in the box. Look how wonderful I am." Jesus is not impressed by merely external religion. He commends the heartfelt faith of the poor widow, and he recognizes that her trust is in God. And in commending her, he is issuing a subtle damnation of the self-righteous religiosity that was happy to let her suffer.

Which brings us to our final point: beware of self-righteous religious infrastructure. After Jesus has made his controversial statements and, once again, condemned the religious establishment inside the temple, he and the disciples take a walk outside the temple complex (Mark 13:1–2). As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings." It's merciful that particular disciple wasn’t named. Which one said that? Because Jesus looks at him—perhaps shaking his head—and says, “Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.”

That would have been a shocking statement. We'll see later that four of the disciples are so stunned by it that they feel the need to ask follow-up questions. "What are you talking about, Jesus? How could this happen? When will this happen?" What Jesus promises is impossible for them to imagine. Though Solomon’s original temple had been destroyed over 600 years earlier, the building of the second temple had begun about 500 years before this conversation. About 40 years before Jesus’ statement, during the reign of King Herod, an expansion project for the temple complex had begun—and was still ongoing in Jesus’ day. It truly was a magnificent and marvelous sight, filled with wonderful stones and buildings.

The idea that it would be torn down was unthinkable, especially because they believed Jesus was the Messiah who would bring restoration, not destruction. But as we've seen throughout Passion Week, most of Jesus' teaching during this time was a sustained condemnation of the Jewish religious and social leadership of his day. God's judgment, he said, would be visited upon them.

This happened spiritually to those who did not trust in Jesus—those who rejected him were cut off from the olive tree, Christ himself (as Romans 11 says). Though they had the covenant of circumcision, the law of Moses, and the temple, they believed these structures secured them. They thought they had all the religious infrastructure they needed.

But they missed the point. The covenant with Abraham, including circumcision, pointed to a coming Savior. The law given to Moses revealed their need for a Savior every time they broke it. The temple and its sacrificial system visibly portrayed the cost of sin—blood. And the blood of bulls and goats could never take away sin. It pointed forward to the need for a better temple and a better sacrifice. Jesus came as both. He is the better temple. He is the better sacrifice. He is the one who perfectly kept the law.

But when the people rejected him and trusted instead in their traditions, their customs, and their buildings—rather than in the shed blood of the Messiah—they earned his just condemnation. Less than 40 years later, the Romans would come and literally level the temple complex. The incredible building and its surrounding structures were destroyed to such a degree that not one stone was left upon another. The only remnants were foundation stones in a wall not even part of the main temple. All the rest was torn to the ground.

In AD 70, Titus led the Roman army to destroy the temple. But while Titus was the one who physically destroyed Jerusalem, it was actually the hand of God fulfilling Jesus’ words. Titus was simply God's instrument of judgment. God took the infrastructure that had become a source of self-righteous confidence—and he leveled it.

Beautiful buildings and religious forms can be good things. But they will not save you from God’s judgment. Friends, are you trusting in an external form of religion to save you? Are you trusting in church attendance, public acts of religiosity, baptism, family heritage, or anything you’ve done or are doing as the source of your salvation?

If so, God will cut you down, just as he did the scribes and the temple. There will not be one stone left in the edifice of your self-righteousness when you stand before the judgment seat of God. There is only one who is righteous, and only one who can save.

Jesus’ warnings to the Jews of the first century—to beware of self-righteous religious systems, attitudes, and leaders who lead people away from salvation—are warnings we still need today. The question you must ask, over and over again, of any religious leader, any church, and your own heart, is this: Am I being pointed to Christ? Am I being told to look away from myself, away from my works, and to the finished work of Christ in my place?

Look to Jesus’ perfect life as your righteousness. Look to his substitutionary, atoning death as your forgiveness. Look to his bodily resurrection as your life. Look to his ascension to the Father’s right hand as your confidence before God in prayer. Look to his glorious return as your future hope.

Your works cannot save you. No religious system can save you. No religious leader can save you—except the one who points you to the only Savior, Jesus Christ.

1 Corinthians 1:23–24 says: “We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.”

Friends, we must beware of self-righteousness. Beware of the temptation in your own heart. Beware of it in religious systems that encourage it. And beware of religious leaders who display it. Put your hope, your trust, your life in the powerful, wise, and righteous hands of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Would you pray?

Father God, we need your help and your protection from the self-righteousness that stirs within us. We want to believe that we're good enough on our own—but we are not. We are tempted to follow people and systems that seem impressive, that make us feel like we’re good enough. Lord, point us back again and again to our need for Christ and his absolute sufficiency for all we need.

Thank you that in him, we can pursue righteousness—not a righteousness of our own, but one given as a gift through your Holy Spirit, by the work of Christ in us.

It is in his name that we pray,Amen.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit remsenbible.substack.com