In the midst of cancel culture, political polarization, and waging war comes a timely parable from Jesus. Our instinct to act in frustration and impatience, especially toward people, is challenged by Jesus’ call for patience and trust in Luke 13. True wisdom is rooted in patience—trusting the slow, often unpleasant process of growth and redemption rather than hastily discarding what appears fruitless. Ultimately, we are called not to carry axes in judgment, but to follow Christ in carrying the cross, becoming agents of grace who, like the Gardener, offer time, care, and hope for transformation. 

Following the Transfiguration Jesus enters the second half of his ministry—which is essentially a slow, steady March On Jerusalem. Jesus leaves Galilee and begins a weeks-long journey toward the holy city, toward Jerusalem, toward the cross, toward the kingdom of God arriving through his death, burial and resurrection. This final march on Jerusalem is what we remember during Lent.

As we enter the season of Lent, the Lectionary appropriately takes us to the temptation of Christ. Before Jesus ever preached a sermon or worked a miracle, he faced off with the devil in the wilderness. And perhaps no one has explored the the temptation of Christ in a more profound way than Fyodor Dostoevsky did in his famous parable of "The Grand Inquisitor."

Jesus is the kingdom of God in person. And Jesus is the one who now fills all things everywhere with himself. What happened to Jesus on Mount Tabor when he was transfigured in appearance from an ordinary Galilean Jew into his true appearance as the glorious Son of God, is what will happen in the eschaton to all of God’s creation.

In his Sermon on the Plain Jesus tells us that God is our Father, and that our Father is merciful; and because we are children of God, we should be merciful just as our Father is merciful. Jesus calls us to mercy, not merely because mercy is a superior ethic or because mercy tends toward peace, as true as that is; rather, Jesus calls us to be merciful because that is what God is like!

There is no easy alliance between the kingdom of the world and the kingdom of God, and all attempts to create an easy alliance between these two kingdoms are misguided and doomed to failure. The kingdom of the world is founded on greed and war—Mammon and Mars. The kingdom of God is founded on the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Furthermore, these two kingdoms are organized around irreconcilable values. The kingdom of the world values economic power and military might, while the kingdom of God values co-suffering love and divine mercy.

When Simon Peter first got a glimpse of who Jesus really is, his initial reaction was one of fear. The transcendent and holy otherness of Jesus simply overwhelmed Simon Peter. But the Lord’s response to Peter’s fearful reaction can be understood as something like this: Don't be afraid of me, follow me. If you follow me, I will make you into a new person—the person you were always meant to be.

It’s astonishing how angry some people will get if you try to take away their religion of revenge. They’re terribly upset by the idea that God might give divine favor to those they deem unworthy of it—to those who do not belong to their kind of people. The very idea that God might have mercy on all is condemned as blasphemy. This is exactly what Jesus encountered when he preached in his hometown of Nazareth.

Jesus is the fulfillment of Scripture, and all Scripture is fulfilled in Christ.

This may sound like a simple statement, but it’s actually an essential foundation for good theology.

Scripture is not fulfilled by “biblical principles applied to your life.”

Scripture is not fulfilled by geopolitical events speculated as “end time signs.”

Scripture is not fulfilled by the modern nation of Israel or any other nation.

All Scripture is fulfilled in the Word of God made flesh who is Jesus Christ.

Most of Jesus’ miracles involve dire circumstances—disease, death, danger, demons, and so on. But in Jesus’ very first miracle there is none of that—no deadly storm, no one is dying, there are no demons; it’s merely a wedding feast that is running low on wine. Some would dismiss this as “first world problems.” But Jesus doesn't do that, and we're surprised by a gratuitous miracle. There's an element of whimsy in the miracle story of Cana of Galilee that makes it particularly endearing.