Tag: faith

Is the Papacy Biblical? A Look at Matthew 16

Is the Papacy Biblical? A Look at Matthew 16

Pope Francis’ recent death is an opportunity for bible-believing Christians to consider what we ought to believe about the papacy. The goal is not to dance on a dead man’s grave, but to think about who oversees Christ’s church. Is the papacy a legitimate institution? Does it have biblical warrant?

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (“CCC”) says that:

  1. Peter is the rock of the church, which is built upon him (CCC, Art(s). 881, 552).
  2. Peter has the “keys” and therefore governs the church (CCC, Art(s). 553, 881).
  3. Peter is the shepherd of the church, and priests and bishops have derivative authority under Peter.
  4. Peter is the source and foundation of the unity of the church—he has full, supreme, and universal power (CCC, Art. 882).
  5. According to the first Vatican council (Vatican I, 1869-70, Session 4), if you do not agree with Rome’s teaching about Peter, you are damned to hell.

This is all false and cannot be defended from scripture. Rome’s argument, both in the CCC and at Vatican I, centers on Matthew 16:18 and some supporting citations. My argument here focuses on the Matthew 16 passage. If you want to read more about Rome’s grave and terrible errors about the gospel, I recommend (a) James White, The Roman Catholic Controversy (Minneapolis: Bethany House, 1996), and (b) Tyler Robbins, “How Rome Distorts the Gospel—Atonement Misunderstood.”

Now—on to the papacy!

In Matthew 16:18-19, Jesus gives us two pairs of images: (a) the rock and the gates, and (b) the keys and the bonds. What do they mean? Oracles from “the Greek” won’t help you here—your bible translation is just fine. Whatever these images mean, they must make the best sense of what the passage is taking about in context.

Context—what are we talking about here?

Jesus asks his disciples who people say the Son of Man is (Mt 16:13). He refers to himself as the mysterious figure from Daniel’s famous vision (Dan 7:13-14). Public opinion says that Jesus is a prophet of some sort (Mt 16:14). Now, Jesus asks the disciples who they think he is (Mt 16:15). Peter answers: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (Mt 16:17).

The “Messiah” is the chosen and anointed one, the special divine envoy (“Son of the living God”) who will make all God’s covenant promises come true. He is God’s promise-keeper. He makes God known to us (Jn 1:18). Jesus agrees and tells Peter that his Father in heaven has revealed this precious truth (i.e., his confession about Jesus’ identity) to him.

So, as we move on to consider the first pair of images, we must get this right—this conversation is about Jesus’ identity and what it means. Any interpretation that takes a hard turn off this road to something completely different is wrong.

Imagery 1—The Rock and the Gates

Jesus says: “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Mt 16:18). Here we have our first pair of images.

  1. What are gates for? To keep people in or out.
  2. What is Christ’s church build on? A rock.
  3. Because Hades’ gates cannot prevail against the rock, these gates are imprisoning folks inside, and the rock smashes this gate open to set them free.

So, whatever “the rock” is …

  1. The entire family of God is built on it,
  2. and the rock is so strong, and so powerful,
  3. that Satan’s kingdom can’t withstand it!
  4. so it’s a pretty tough rock— divinely tough!

You have three options:

  1. The rock is Peter—the pope.

Rome places great stock in a Greek wordplay that Jesus uses here: “And I tell you that you are Peter (Πέτρος—petros), and on this rock (πέτρᾳ—petra) I will build my church …” This is a weak argument. Unless context suggests otherwise (and remember, the context is Jesus’ identity and what it means), there is no need to see this as anything other than a playful wordplay.

For example, my first name is Mark. Yet my parents have called me Tyler all my life, so I have no idea why they bothered to name me Mark. A similar wordplay would be if someone told me: “Your name is Mark, and mark my words that …” That is all this need be. Peter has nothing to do with this conversation—they’re talking about Jesus’ identity.

  1. The Rock is Jesus.

When he says, “and upon this rock,” he points to himself. This is weak and desperate. The pronoun translated “this” refers to something nearby in the context. This position rightly rejects Peter as the rock (because it is out of context), and to make Jesus himself “this rock,” they must make him point to himself. There is a simpler way—one that doesn’t require us to pantomime while explaining it.

  1. The rock is Peter’s confession of Jesus’ identity and what it means—his faith and trust in the Messiah.

Option 3 is the right option.[1] Christ’s church family is built on the confession that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God. You cannot be a Christian (and a member of the worldwide Jesus family) unless you trust and confess the truth about him. Again, remember the context of this passage—this whole conversation is about who Jesus is and why it matters. It is not about a disciple who Jesus is going to call “satan” in four verses. It is not about the disciple who Paul rebuked to his face in Antioch (Gal 2:11-14). It is not about the guy to whom nobody in the scripture gives special authority.

But the conversation certainly is about Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God. This explains why the rock is so strong, and so powerful, and why the gates of Hades can’t prevail against the church—because it’s divinely tough.

The completed imagery of rock + gates is this:

  1. The rock is the confession that Jesus is the divine promise-keeper and Son of God.
  2. The gates are to Satan’s kingdom, and they can no longer imprison those who believe in the rock.
  3. Jesus (the rock) smashes these gates open—remember the divine rock which smashes the statue of pagan empires (which are really different flavors of Babylon, Satan’s kingdom) at Daniel 2:34-35, 44.

Peter cannot smash these gates open. Yet, this is what the “rock + gates” imagery would have us believe. Your safety, security, and anchor is Jesus. It wasn’t John Paul II. It wasn’t Benedict. It wasn’t Francis. It is not Leo. It’s the Messiah, the Son of the living God—just like the old song says— “On Christ the solid rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand.”

Imagery 2—The Keys and the Bonds

Jesus continued: “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (Mt 16:19).

  1. What are keys for? To control access. To let you in or out.
  2. What do bonds do? They confine you. Imprison you.

We know that Jesus has the keys of life and death (Rev 1:18), the keys that lock people into that future, or let them out to embrace a better one tomorrow.

So, whatever the keys are,

  1. They let you into the kingdom of heaven,
  2. and untie or unchain you from the bonds that you’re in,
  3. which means this is a divine power.

You have two options to understand what this means:

  1. Peter has exclusive power to govern the church (the keys), and to absolve people’s sins by a sacred power—the bonds (CCC, Art(s). 553, 881, 1592).

This makes no sense of the “key” imagery. Keys are about access (Rev 1:18, 9:1, 20:1), not governance. Scripture never says to go to Peter—or anyone else—to have your sins absolved. Nor does Peter later claim this right for himself in his two New Testament letters. Instead, the bible tells us that God forgives sins—even David knew this (Ps 51:1-2).

  1. Peter (and every other Christian) offers “the key” to freedom by preaching rescue (“the bonds”) through complete forgiveness of sins.

Option 2 is the correct one.  Again, this entire conversation is about who Jesus is and why it matters. The keys don’t belong to Peter when Jesus speaks—he says he will give them to Peter (future-tense). Later, Jesus clarifies that the entire church has the keys—he even repeats the very same words (Mt 18:18).

The “key + bonds” imagery tells us this:

  1. Jesus’ family,
  2. organized into big and small Jesus communities around the world called “churches,”
  3. are his hands and feet that offer the key to spiritual freedom,
  4. by preaching liberation, forgiveness, and reconciliation.
  5. and we untie the shackles or bonds by accepting people into the brotherhood of the faithful upon a credible profession of faith (see Acts 2:41).

Jesus, through his communities around the world, unlocks the gate to death and hades and lets his people out, just like the song says— “my chains are gone, I’ve been set free, My God, my Savior has ransomed me!”

Peter was a good guy. Peter was an important guy. Peter is a star (not the star) of Acts 1-11. But Peter was just a guy.

Jesus leads his church. Not by one old man in Rome, but by Word + Spirit in his churches around the world, under qualified leaders, through you, and me, and us. And together we build Jesus’ family—just like Peter himself told us. Jesus is the “living stone” (a synonym for “rock”) to whom we come to be built up into the spiritual household of the faithful (1 Pet 2:4-5).

Your leader is not an old man in a white robe who sits in a building financed over 500 years ago by extorting money from millions of peasants with stories of fraudulent “indulgences” that can buy them time off a purgatory that doesn’t exist, and who represents a false “gospel” that has no perfect peace—that doesn’t make you holy and perfect forever (Heb 10:10, 14). Instead, thank God (literally) that the confession and trust in Jesus is your rock. Jesus is your anchor. Jesus smashes open Hades’ gates. Jesus has the keys and loans them to his churches. Jesus, through his communities across the world, unlocks the door to death and Hades to let his people out of darkness and into the marvelous light.

[1] Many conservative Protestant scholars today believe that Peter is the rock. They often comment that Protestants only object to this interpretation because of what Rome does with the passage. See John Broadus’ wonderful commentary on the Gospel of Matthew for a representative example of this line of thinking: https://tinyurl.com/4my9e7y3.

I believe this is wrong, and I have not found the arguments convincing. The context strongly supports Option 3, and it is the best antecedent for the pronoun in ἐπὶ ταύτῃ τῇ πέτρᾳ οἰκοδομήσω μου τὴν ἐκκλησίαν. This is not an academic article, so I will leave the matter here!

The Cosmic Civil War: A Palm Sunday Reflection

The Cosmic Civil War: A Palm Sunday Reflection

As Easter draws near, the Christian calendar presents us with a sequence of world-altering events—Palm Sunday, Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and later Pentecost. Each day tells a part of the greatest story ever told, and it begins with Palm Sunday: the moment Jesus Christ enters Jerusalem, hailed as a king, setting into motion the fulfillment of divine promises.

In Luke 19:28–44, we find the account of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. But to fully grasp what’s happening, we need to step back and understand the broader picture.

The cosmic civil war

From the beginning of Scripture, humanity has been caught in a cosmic civil war. In Genesis 1 and 2, God creates a perfect world and places humanity under his authority. But in Genesis 3, Adam and Eve reject that authority and choose to go their own way. Genesis 4 onward tells the story of how we all, by birth and by choice, follow that path.

Think of the analogy of the American civil war.

Our spiritual rebellion is something like that. Our first parents founded this “confederacy.” This means we’re each born, by default, as citizens of this confederacy. Just as the southern states illegally broke away from the federal government, we have each broken away from God. Each of us, spiritually speaking, is born a citizen of this rebellion—a fraudulent kingdom opposed to its rightful ruler.

So this is the situation:

  • We can remain in the Confederacy (which is going to lose this war), or
  • We can choose to rejoin the Union.

When Jesus’ ministry begins—when he says that the kingdom of heaven is at hand, and that everyone ought to repent and believe the gospel (Mk 1:15), he’s basically asking: “what’s it gonna be?”

When Jesus enters Jerusalem one week before Passover, his three years of ministry nearly finished, he is asking: “Here I am. I’m your king. Will you choose to love me and swear an oath of allegiance to me and end this stupid war?”

This question is much more important than the American civil war, because this is a cosmic war—your very soul is at stake.

Jesus and the donkey

The turning point comes on Palm Sunday. Jesus approaches Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives, and he tells his disciples to find a donkey. This detail might seem odd, but it’s loaded with significance. Jesus is deliberately fulfilling the prophecy from Zechariah 9:9:

Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey … (Zech 9:9).

A donkey is not exactly the image of power and might. It emphasizes Jesus’ humility—his lowly status. He isn’t a warrior. He comes not to crush enemies but to extend a hand of grace. He is the King foretold in ancient Scripture, arriving not with overwhelming force, but with a gentle invitation. He’s come to proclaim peace to the nations, and to free prisoners from a waterless pit because of the blood-oath of the new covenant he’s come to launch (Zech 9:10-11).

The donkey is not a trivial detail. It’s Jesus’ way of showing the kind of king He is: one who offers peace, not coercion.

Jesus and the palm branches

As Jesus enters the city, people begin to respond. Crowds gather, laying their cloaks on the road and waving palm branches—an ancient sign of honor and victory. They shout:

Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” (Luke 19:38; quoting Ps 118:26).

This isn’t spontaneous enthusiasm; it’s deliberate. They’re quoting Psalm 118, a psalm used in royal processions to the Jerusalem temple. This song is a well-known cultural cue, like the national anthem may be to us. They know what it means. They know what they’re singing and why. They’re acknowledging Jesus not just as a teacher or prophet, but as the rightful King of Israel. “[T]he whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen” (Lk 19:37). They recall His miracles: raising Lazarus, healing the sick, casting out demons. Everything Jesus has done points to this moment. He is the Messish and the king.

But not everyone is pleased.

Jesus weeps over Jerusalem

The Pharisees, standing in the crowd, hear the chants and understand their meaning. They demand that Jesus rebuke his followers. They know what this singing means—that Jesus is the fulfillment of all prophecy, the King who brings God’s kingdom. Jesus responds: “I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out” (Luke 19:40)

But  Jesus knows the celebration is less than honest. This same crowd is nowhere to be found later in the week, on Good Friday. So as he draws near to Jerusalem, Jesus does something unexpected: he weeps. “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes” (Luke 19:42).

Jesus offers peace with God. Peace for your soul. Peace for your heart. The apostle Paul wrote: “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom 5:1). This is the same peace the angels offered on Christmas morning: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests” (Lk 2:14). His favor rests on those who come in from the cold and choose to love him.

The King who comes in peace now mourns, knowing that many will reject him. Within days, the same crowds shouting “Hosanna” will yell “Crucify him!” (Mk 15:13). Though peace is within their reach, they will choose rebellion. The city that celebrates him will soon betray him.

The Cosmic Amnesty

After the American civil war, President Andrew Johnson offered amnesty to any Confederate who wanted it.

Johnson specifically says this amnesty was a pardon. His proclamation said that to suppress the rebellion, to convince people to be loyal to the true government once again, and to restore Federal authority, he was offering a pardon if you swore a particular oath and sincerely mean it. Pardon does not mean you’re innocent—it means you’re released from legal liability.

This is exactly what Jesus is offering. We’re so-called “citizens” of a fraudulent nation in rebellion against lawful authority. To suppress this rebellion, to convince people to be loyal to the true government once again, and to restore his divine authority, God is offering a pardon if you swear an oath to his Son—if you repent and believe the good news and sincerely mean it.

As Jesus looks down upon Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives, he’s making an offer: “Swear an oath of allegiance from your heart, and let’s get this done.” But it does not happen. Jerusalem will soon say: “I’ll take Option B.”

So, what will we do? You can do nothing and remain in the Confederacy (which will lose this war), or you can choose to rejoin the Union.

Listening to the Real Jesus: Insights from the Transfiguration

Listening to the Real Jesus: Insights from the Transfiguration

The story of the transfiguration is one of the most remarkable in the gospels, yet its message is pretty simple: listen to Jesus! If you call yourself a Christian, you might think, “Well, of course! That’s obvious.” But listening to Jesus is harder than we admit. Too often, we listen to a fake version of Jesus that we’ve invented—a Jesus shaped by our own preferences, desires, or cultural influences.

A relationship with God begins with love. We love Him because He first loved us. From this love flows our desire to obey him, believe rightly, and do what his Word says. But what happens if we love the wrong Jesus? Well, if we follow a Jesus of our own making instead of the one revealed in scripture, our beliefs and actions will be all wrong. That’s why it’s important to listen to the real Jesus—the Jesus who is the Son of God, not the one we or our culture have reshaped to fit our own ideals.

Why the transfiguration?

When we read what happened in the run-up to the transfiguration, we learn that it was meant to cement Jesus’ claim to absolute authority in his people’s lives. It’s as if he’s saying: “You gotta listen to me! Not well-meaning but false teachers. Not your culture. Me. I’m kind of a big deal …”

This run-up shows us Jesus having an escalating authority controversy with scribes and Pharisees everywhere he goes. The disciples see and hear all this. For sake of space, we’ll parachute into Matthew 15, where Jesus tells some Pharisees and scribes that they’re hypocrites for emphasizing purity traditions over scripture: “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Mt 15:8, quoting Isa 29:13). Jesus then privately compared them to invasive weeds his Father had not planted—the day would come when they’d be ripped out of the ground (Mt 15:13-14; cp. Mt 13:24-30, 36-43)!

We then follow Jesus as he speaks to a Canaanite woman who asks him to cast a demon out of her daughter. She calls him Lord. She recognizes him as the son of David—implicitly, as the king of Israel. He commends her faith (Mt 15:28), a huge irony because she (a non-Jewish person) should have trouble embracing the Jewish Messiah!

Jesus then miraculously feeds 4,000 people in the wilderness east of the Sea of Galilee—people who see his miracles and praise the God of Israel. These are probably not Jewish people (Mt 15:29-31; cp. Mk 7:31)! Matthew now immediately pivots to another confrontation with Jewish authorities who demand he prove his credentials by showing them a sign from heaven (Mt 16:1-4). After telling them off, Jesus warns his followers against the teaching (“the yeast”) of the scribes and Pharisees, whose doctrinal errors are like arsenic for the soul (Mt 16:5, 12).

It’s no accident that Matthew next shows us Jesus asking who people thought he was. Peter answered correctly (“You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God,” Mt 16:16), but was it an intellectual answer or a deeply held conviction? Was it a well-intentioned theory or a heart-felt reality? What did they think of these repeated authority clashes? Do they truly believe that Jesus is their authority?

These implicit questions are what the transfiguration was meant to answer.

What does the transfiguration mean?

The transfiguration tells us who Jesus truly is. They go up the mountain. Suddenly, without warning, Jesus is “transfigured” or “transformed” before their very eyes. It happens suddenly, surprisingly. Jesus’ face shines like the sun, his clothes a dazzling white. This is a terrifying metamorphosis! Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets, suddenly appear with him, emphasizing Jesus’ fulfillment and embodiment of both (Mt 17:1-3). But the most striking moment comes when a bright cloud overshadows them, and God the Father speaks: “This is my Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased. Listen to Him!” (Mt 17:5).

God is saying: “Do what he says! Keep doing what he says! He is your authority. Hear him!”

Why does this matter? Because when we fail to listen to Jesus, we start listening to competing voices—false teachers, cultural narratives, or even our own misguided emotions. The transfiguration was God’s way of making it abundantly clear: Jesus is the one to whom we should listen above all else.

Why Do People Believe in Fake Jesuses?

Throughout history, people have reshaped Jesus to suit their own agendas. Sometimes this is done with good intentions, but the result is always a distortion of the truth. In Jesus’ day, culture had so re-shaped expectations that many expected a “legalistic Messiah.” In America, in the ante-bellum South, some Christians argued that chattel slavery was a good thing because God was using it as a means of evangelism to enslaved black people! Culture makes us create fakes Jesuses like playdough. It’s no accident that these fake Jesuses always follow whatever culture war battles happen to be raging at the time.

Here are a few modern examples of “fake Jesuses” that people often follow:

  1. The homosexual Jesus – The lie that says Jesus has cast aside God’s laws about sexual ethics, and that unrepentant homosexual activity is just fine for Christians.
  2. The transgender Jesus – The lie that says your body can be at odds with your soul—as if your “inner self” can be divorced from your physical body and its gender. We are a unity of body + soul, which is why the doctrine of bodily resurrection is key to the Christian story. You will be resurrected in the physical body with which you were born. There is no legitimate disconnect between your “inner self” and your body.
  3. The Nationalistic Jesus – Many in America have intertwined faith with patriotism, as if Jesus’ mission were to uphold America’s greatness instead of establishing His Kingdom.
  4. The Social Justice-Only Jesus – While Jesus absolutely cares about justice, some reduce him to merely a social activist, ignoring his central message of salvation and repentance.

You can go out today and find false churches that teach and promote each of these fake Jesuses. They’re all lies. They’re each a distortion, and when we follow them, we stop truly listening to the real Jesus. The real Jesus, as revealed in scripture, calls us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him (Matthew 16:24). That means (among other things) surrendering our own ideas about who he should be and allowing his Word to shape our understanding.

Listening to Jesus in Everyday Life

So how do we practically listen to Jesus? It’s not just about avoiding theological errors—it’s about daily obedience in both big and small ways. Here are a few examples of what it looks like to truly listen to Jesus:

  • Caring for the sick and elderly – Choosing to honor and care for aging parents instead of neglecting them.
  • Being a faithful spouse – Responding to difficulties in marriage with love and forgiveness rather than bitterness.
  • Serving others in your local church – Helping brothers and sisters in need in your church, even when it’s inconvenient.

Jesus is not a coffee table book

What happens when we don’t listen to the real Jesus? History and personal experience show us that failing to heed his voice leads to confusion, division, and spiritual decay. When we shape Jesus in our own image, we end up walking paths that lead us further from God, not closer to him. Even well-meaning people can fall into the trap of creating a fake version of Jesus that fits their lifestyle rather than allowing the real Jesus to transform their life. The apostle Paul tells us this is an evil age (Gal 1:3-4). The apostle John likens this ruined world, with its corrupt and seductive values, to Babylon–and tells it’s all going down one day (Rev 16-19). This world’s “truth” is, in fact, a pack of lies. Jesus tells us to listen to him.

For too many Christians, Jesus is like a decorative coffee table book—nice to have around, but not something they actually engage with. The transfiguration challenges us to move beyond a passive relationship with Jesus. He’s not just a figure to admire; He’s the King of our lives. If we truly listen to Him, it will shape how we think, believe, and live.

As we reflect on the Transfiguration, let’s take God’s words to heart: Listen to him. Not to the competing voices of culture, not to our own desires, but to the true Jesus who reveals himself in Scripture. Only by listening to him can we be transformed and live out the faith we profess.

How to Be Jesus People

How to Be Jesus People

The Sermon on the Mount is one of the most well-known teachings of Jesus, guiding Christians on how to live in an unholy world. In Matthew 5:2-16, Jesus focuses on how believers are to be a countercultural people (Mt 5:2-12), living as salt and light in the world (Mt 5:13-16). But what does that mean? And how exactly are we supposed to do that?

Understanding the Christian Counterculture

Jesus emphasizes that Christians are not meant to isolate themselves from the world but rather to live differently within it. Being salt and light means standing out—not in a showy or arrogant way, but in a way that draws others to the truth of the gospel. This means engaging with the world while remaining distinct from its values.

The key question, then, is: how do we live as a countercultural people? In Mathew 5:17-20, Jesus answers this by teaching that we must obey God’s law in the right way—with the right heart and the right motives.

  • First, he explains how he fulfills the law and the prophets.
  • Then, he explains our obligations to live according to the law n light of what he’s now done.

The rest of Matthew 5 is Jesus’ illustrations of this principle through everyday examples.

Jesus Fulfills the Law

Many misunderstand Jesus’ relationship to the Old Testament law. Some think He came to replace it with something entirely new, but He clarifies: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matthew 5:17).

But what does it mean for Jesus to “fulfill” the law? Essentially, Jesus gives the law its deeper and truer meaning. Instead of following it in a superficial, legalistic way—like the Pharisees did—Jesus calls His followers to obey it from the heart.

How Do We Read the Law Through the ‘Jesus Filter’?

The Bible is a story with a beginning, middle, and end. When we read the Old Testament, we must do so in light of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. This is the “Jesus filter”—understanding that everything in Scripture points to Him.

Here is what this looks like:

For example, the sacrificial laws in Leviticus can seem tedious, but they make sense when we realize they were all pointing to Jesus, the ultimate sacrifice. Just like a child might look forward to getting a bicycle, only to later realize that a car is even better, the Old Testament sacrifices (i.e., the ceremonial laws) were placeholders until Christ, the true fulfillment, came.

Three Types of Old Testament Laws

  1. Ceremonial Laws – These included sacrifices, purity laws, and temple rituals. Jesus fulfills these laws by becoming the ultimate sacrifice. Since His death and resurrection, these laws no longer apply in a direct way.
  2. Civil Laws – These governed daily life in ancient Israel, from property disputes to social justice. Since the Old Testament kingdom no longer exists in the same way, these laws don’t directly apply today, though we can learn principles from them.
  3. Moral Laws – These include commandments about right and wrong, like prohibitions against murder, adultery, and lying. These remain in effect because they are rooted in God’s unchanging character.

Because the new covenant has fulfilled or re-shaped the first two categories of the old covenant law, Jesus now pivots in the rest of Matthew 5 to focus solely on moral laws and their relevance for today. He says: “Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:19).

What does this mean?

Obeying the Law in the Right Way

Jesus warns that it is possible to do the right thing for the wrong reasons. If we simply follow rules without love or genuine devotion, our obedience is meaningless. This was the problem with the Pharisees, who were obsessed with external appearances while missing the heart of God’s law. They wrongly saw the old covenant law as a means of salvation—“I do this for God, and he will do that for me!” This produces a very self-righteous attitude.

Jesus says, “Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:20). That doesn’t mean we need to follow even more rules than they did—it means our obedience should come from a place of love, not just obligation. We obey God because we love him and have already been made right with God, not to “get” righteousness as a reward at the end of the rainbow.

For example, the commandment: “You shall have no other gods before me” is easy to affirm in theory. But if we examined our lives, what would our actions say? Do we prioritize God above all else? Or do we let other things—our jobs, entertainment, relationships—take first place in our hearts? There is a massive difference between surface conformity and heartfelt obedience. True obedience isn’t just about external actions but about having a heart transformed by love for God.

Faith Expressing Itself Through Love

The Apostle Paul summed it up in Galatians 5:6: “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” This means that our obedience to God should not come from fear or duty but from a genuine love for Him. Just as a heartfelt note from a loved one is more meaningful than a generic greeting card from your insurance agent, our devotion to God should be personal and sincere.

Jesus’ teachings in the rest of Matthew 5 give practical examples of this principle. He takes the external commands (like “Do not murder” and “Do not commit adultery”) and shows their deeper meaning. It’s not enough just to avoid murder—we must also guard against anger and hatred. It’s not enough just to avoid adultery—we must also keep our hearts pure.

A Call to Authentic Christianity

Being a Christian counterculture means more than just appearing religious. It means having a heart genuinely transformed by Christ. True righteousness flows from within—it’s not about keeping a checklist of rules but about loving God so deeply that obedience becomes natural.

This is the challenge Jesus sets before us. Are we simply following religious rules, or are we truly living as salt and light in the world? Do we obey because we have to, or because we want to?

Jesus calls us to follow Him from the heart, to let our love for Him shape every aspect of our lives. When we do this, we don’t just become religious people—we become a living testimony of God’s grace and truth.

May we each examine our hearts and ask God to help us live out our faith in a way that is truly countercultural—not just in appearance, but in spirit and truth.

The Illusion of Self-Righteousness

The Illusion of Self-Righteousness

This is a series of brief devotional articles on The Orthodox Catechism (“OC”),a Particular Baptist document written by Baptist pastor Hercules Collins in 1680. Read the series.

When confronted with a moral failure, our instinct is to minimize or to blame-shift. Yes, we shouldn’t have said this, but it only happened because you said that. No, we haven’t quite gotten around to fixing the car like we promised, but that’s because you keep using it every Saturday. Although these are silly little examples, the pattern holds true for the larger things.

Jesus summed up the law and the prophets under two heads; (a) love God with everything you have—heart, soul, mind, and strength—and (b) love your neighbor as yourself (Mt 22:37-40). How well do we follow these summary principles? The catechism question before us now is like a mirror that strips away all our self-righteousness. It leaves us, as it were, ashamed and defenseless, alone with the truth about ourselves:

Question 5: Can you live up to all this perfectly?

Answer 5: No. I have a natural tendency to hate God[1] and my neighbor.[2]

Now the minimizing bit comes into play.

  • Living up to all this perfectly? “Well, nobody is perfect …” we muse. But, compared to the other guy, I’m not in bad shape at all.
  • A natural tendency? Well, again, nobody is perfect.
  • Hating God and our neighbor? Hate is a strong word. I love God, and I don’t really hate anybody.

Unfortunately, the minimizing doesn’t work here. Holiness isn’t graded on a curve. In the same way that a woman either is or is not pregnant, and a man either is or is not a father, you either are or are not holy and righteous. To be “holy” is to be pure and perfect—without moral spot or blemish. To be “righteous” means to be morally upright in accordance with God’s standards. The catechism answer says you’ve missed that boat. We all have.

In what way have we missed that boat?

Because we all have a natural tendency to hate God and our neighbor. This tendency is natural because it’s innate, it’s our default setting, it isn’t a learned behavior—it’s just the way we are. The apostle Paul, a Jewish man, pointed out that even Jews had no advantage with God on this point: “Do we have any advantage? Not at all! For we have already made the charge that Jews and Gentiles alike are all under the power of sin” (Rom 3:9).

Paul’s words are important and you should read them again. We’re “under the power of” this malevolent force called sin, which is basically a contagion or disease of pervasive selfishness and narcissism. Because sin is selfishness—not simply “self-love” but more like “self-worship at all costs”[3]—it has a marvelous capacity for self-deception and self-righteousness. We think we’re fine, but we’re not. This is why God must rip the veil away from our hearts and minds so the gospel light can shine in and do its work (2 Cor 4:3-6).

Now we turn to hate. Yes, it’s a strong word. It means something like “extreme enmity” and “active hostility.”[4] Who wants to fess up to that? But lest we assume we have plenty of wiggle-room here, Jesus takes a sledgehammer to our rationalizations. God’s standards aren’t about externals—they’re about internal affections that show in an external way. This means that anger, contempt, and ridicule are the same as murder because they all come from an inner hostility and ill-will towards that other person (Mt 5:21-22). Likewise, adultery isn’t simply the sexual act but also the sexual thought (Mt 5:27-28).

What the catechism is driving at is that, in our hearts, we do not love God and our neighbor perfectly. We fail here because sin is that pervasive selfishness and narcissism that naturally reigns in our hearts and minds. And, because holiness (like pregnancy and fatherhood) is a “yes or no” status, that means we’ve each fallen short.

So, that’s where we are. It brings us round to Questions 2 and 3—the law of God tells us how great our sin and misery are. This naturally prompts a new question: why would God make us to be in such a terrible condition? If a manufacturer makes a bad product, it issues a recall and fixes the problem. Why hasn’t God issued a recall on us? Did he make a mistake with us? Is he holding us responsible for his own design flaws? We turn to these questions next time.

[1] Rom 3:9-20, 23; 1 John 1:8, 10.

[2] Gen 6:5; Jer 17:9; Rom 7:23-24, 8:7; Eph 2:1-3; Titus 3:3.

[3] Augustus H. Strong is particularly good here: “We hold the essential principle of sin to be selfishness. By selfishness we mean not simply the exaggerated self-love which constitutes the antithesis of benevolence, but that choice of self as the supreme end which constitutes the antithesis of supreme love to God” (Systematic Theology (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1907), 567).

[4] Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary, s.v. “hate,” verb, sense 1.  

Three Steps to True Spiritual Freedom

Three Steps to True Spiritual Freedom

This is a series of brief devotional articles on The Orthodox Catechism (“OC”), a Particular Baptist document written by Baptist pastor Hercules Collins in 1680. It’s basically the Heidelberg Catechism (first ed. 1563) with Baptist flavor and a few other additions. Read the series.

If the only comfort we have in this life is that we belong—both body and soul, in life and death—to our most faithful Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (see the discussion on Q1), then …

Question 2: What must you know to live and die in the joy of this comfort?

Answer 2: Three things: first, how great my sin and misery are;[1] second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery;[2] third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance.[3]

Relationship with Christ is the most important thing in your life. Everything we accomplish or hold onto as an anchor will fade away in time. James A. Baker III was a hugely important figure in American political life, but how many today even know who he is, let alone that he helped negotiate an end to the Cold War?[4] Solomon wrote: “No one remembers the former generations, and even those yet to come will not be remembered by those who follow them,” (Ecc 1:11).

But the comfort from the Lord that you belong to him will never change. James Baker was one of former President George H.W. Bush’s best friends. The very day he died, Bush told Baker that he was looking forward to going to heaven.[5] After everything he’d accomplished in life—a decorated World War II pilot, politician, Director of the CIA, chair of the Republican National Committee, two-term Vice-President, one-term President—it all narrowed to one great longing: to go to heaven.

But how do get this comfort? How do we make it our own? Scripture teaches that we must realize and own three things:

First, that we’re in very great trouble.

We’re not righteous, which is a churchy way of saying we’re not “right” with God. We’re criminals in his eyes (“sin is lawlessness,” 1 Jn 3:4), and that’s a problem. We’re all “under the power of sin” (Rom 3:9), which means criminality infects us to the core, like so many rotten apples. This doesn’t mean we’re all cartoon serial killers, but it does mean that we’re all “criminal” in that we don’t naturally love God and so we don’t follow his law. The apostle John explained: “If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us,” (1 Jn 1:10).

So, there’s that.

Second, we must realize that God has provided the way out.

We can’t solve the sin problem, because we’re all products of “the system.” The apostle Paul depicts sin as a malevolent force that rules over us and this world. We can’t break out. So, there must be somebody from outside, somebody who isn’t captured and infected by this world, to blaze a trail and take us out of here (Rom 6:16-18). That person is Jesus. More on that later.

On the night he was betrayed, Jesus told his heavenly father that “eternal life” meant: “that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent,” (Jn 17:3). To “know,” in this context, means a personal relationship or friendship.[6] We must enter into relationship with God the Father, through Christ the Son, by means of the Holy Spirit. We do that by responding to the good news he has brought to the world (Mk 1:15). “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved,” (Acts 4:12).

Third, we must be thankful to God for our liberation.

This means that, if God has truly rescued us from our great sin and misery, it’ll show up in our lives. There will be fruit. We show God we’re thankful by living for him (Rom 12:1-2). Our light shines in the world, so people know we belong to Christ (Mt 5:16). The apostle Paul wrote: “offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace,” (Rom 6:13-14). If God has brought us from spiritual darkness and “into the light,” then we ought to live like children of the light (Eph 5:8-10)!

The apostle Peter tells us that God has chosen his people for salvation. He made us to be royal priests who represent him to the world. He’s taken believers from the four corners of the earth and given us a spiritual citizenship that eclipses our earthly passports into deep shadow. Together, we’re God’s special possession, and our job is to “declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light,” (1 Pet 2:9).

If all this is true, then we prove it by the way we think and live. We have spiritual fruit. This is the concrete expression of thankfulness, and it all stems from grateful love— “We love because he first loved us,” (1 Jn 4:19).

The catechism goes on to explain each of these three things in more detail. But, know this—(a) you must know you’re in terrible trouble, (b) you must enter into a personal relationship with the Father, through the Son, by means of the Spirit, and (c) true faith is proven by a life of thankfulness to God.

[1] Romans 3:9-10; 1 John 1:10.

[2] John 17:3; Acts 4:12.

[3] Matthew 5:16; Romans 6:13; Ephesians 5:8-10; 2 Timothy 2:15; 1 Peter 2:9-10.

[4] See the book by Peter Baker and Susan Glasser, The Man Who Ran Washington: The Life and Times of James A. Baker III (New York: Doubleday, 2020).

[5] Baker and Glasser, Baker, 857.

[6] Louw-Nida, s.v. “γινώσκω,” sense. 27.18, 327; BDAG, s.v. “γινώσκω,” sense. 1b, 200.

Why Christians Find Hope in Belonging to Jesus

Why Christians Find Hope in Belonging to Jesus

A “catechism” is a question and answer book about the basics of the Christian faith. It’s useful for believers who need reminders, for new believers who need to know about their new faith, and for outsiders to learn what the Christian story is all about. The Baptist Orthodox Catechism (ca. 1680) begins with a very practical question:[1]

Question 1: What is your only comfort in life and in death?

Answer 1: That both in soul and body, [2] whether I live or die,[3] I am not my own, but belong wholly to my most faithful Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.[4]

By his most precious blood fully satisfying for all my sins,[5] he has delivered me from all the power of the devil,[6] and so preserves me,[7] that without the will of my heavenly Father not so much as a hair may fall from my head.[8]

Yes, all things must serve for my safety.[9]And so, by his Spirit also, he assures me of everlasting life,[10] and makes me ready and prepared,[11] so that from now on I may live to him.

The only comfort a Christian has is that she belongs to the Lord. It’s reassuring to know that we aren’t alone. That we are not left to fend for ourselves. That we have a heavenly Father who is all-powerful, clothed in majesty and holiness, who cares for us. No matter whether you’re alive or dead, your entire being (which is more than your physical body or your immortal soul—it’s both) belongs to your faithful Lord and rescuer Jesus Christ.

This might seem strange—why is it comforting to cede your own self-government to God’s royal authority?

Because Christians believe that Jesus has liberated from a malevolent and evil kidnapper. This isn’t a storybook fable—Jesus really and truly rescued us from the kingdom of darkness. He paid for our crimes by means of his own death as a vicarious sacrifice, delivering us from Satan’s grasp (see Q33). Jesus put it like this: “When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own house, his possessions are safe. But when someone stronger attacks and overpowers him, he takes away the armor in which the man trusted and divides up his plunder,” (Lk 11:21-22). Jesus is the stronger man. He’s tied Satan up and tossed him onto the lawn, and he’s now going through the house and setting the captives free from the dungeon inside.

This is why we love Jesus and are loyal to him in return (see Q31). This is why we worship Jesus as our king (Dan 7:11-13).[12] The scriptures are about God’s plan through the people of Israel (i.e., King Jesus) to fix the world, to fix us, and to create a family he can love and which loves him back. Jesus is the king who has come to (a) reveal to us that he’s the one has come to fulfill God’s covenant promises and make this happen, (b) to reconcile us to God, and then (c) to rule over our lives now and over all creation later. Jesus is our revealer, reconciler, and ruler.[13]

He watches over us with kindness, holiness, and justice. Nothing is beyond his control. Nothing takes him by surprise. This means we’re safe in his care. Everything that happens is for our good—whether it appears that way or not. Like any good Father, God disciples us. He trains us. He wants us to go the right way. Other times, he makes choices that are best for us even if we cannot understand all this in the here and now. More on that later (see Q26, 27).

Because we belong to King Jesus, he gives us assurance of eternal life. The true Christian responds to his kindness and grace with loving obedience—we love him because he first loved us (1 Jn 4:19).

The most basic impulse of the true Christian is to give yourself to Jesus—to trust him and follow him (see Q91-6). In other words, your only comfort in life and death is that you belong—both body and soul—to your faithful savior Jesus Christ.

[1] This is the beginning of a series of brief devotional articles on The Orthodox Catechism (“OC”),a Particular Baptist document written by Baptist pastor Hercules Collins in 1680. It’s basically the Heidelberg Catechism (first ed. 1563) with Baptist flavor and a few other additions. It is rightly famous tool for doctrinal and devotional instruction in Baptist churches. In the congregation where I serve as pastor, we discuss one question from the OC each week during the worship service.

There are many copies of the OC online, and some are better than others. You can find a true copy online here. You can buy a printed copy here.

[2] 1 Corinthians 6:19-20; 1 Thess 5:10.

[3] Romans 14:8.

[4] 1 Corinthians 3:23.

[5] 1 Peter 1:18-19; 1 John 1:7, 2:2.

[6] 1 John 3:8; Hebrews 2:14-15.

[7] John 6:39.

[8] Matthew 10:30; Luke 21:18.

[9] Romans 8:28.

[10] 2 Corinthians 1:12, 5:5; Eph 1:13-14.

[11] Romans 8:24-25.

[12] Read Daniel 2 and Daniel 7. For a brief explanation of Daniel 7, see also Tyler Robbins, “Understanding Daniel 7: The Vision and its Meaning.” 15 October 2024. https://eccentricfundamentalist.com/2024/10/15/understanding-daniel-7-the-vision-and-its-meaning/.

[13] Millard Erickson, Christian Theology, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2013), ch. 35.

Do you want to review my book?

Do you want to review my book?

Wipf & Stock is going to publish a commentary I wrote on the New Testament letter to the Galatians. If you want to be on a list to maybe receive a review copy of the book, then let me know by filling out this form!

The commentary is written for normal people who want to know what Paul is saying. There are no Greek words. There are no long paragraphs about what this scholar says v. what that scholar says. There are no rabbit-trails into questions that theologians like to ponder, but about which ordinary people don’t care and don’t need to know (e.g., did Paul write to Christians in north or south Galatia?). I keep all that stuff in the footnotes. In the text, there is only a straightforward explanation of what Paul says, as best as I understand it.

The commentary will probably end up being about 275 pages. Here is my elevator pitch for why the commentary matters:

How can people be made right with God? The book of Galatians explains. What is the absolute wrong way to try to get right with God? The book of Galatians will explain that, too. What is a real relationship with God supposed to be about? What did Jesus Christ do for us that’s so special and why does it matter to Christians so much? Why does Jesus matter? The book of Galatians talks about all of this. People have always been confused about these questions—even in those first decades of Christianity. The book of Galatians sets us straight, and asks us to trust Jesus and His message.

Here’s the form to be on the list for a review copy.

John 14:1-3 and the Rapture (Part 2)

John 14:1-3 and the Rapture (Part 2)

In the first article, we set out to study what Jesus meant at John 14:1-3. Some Christians believe this passage speaks about the pre-tribulational rapture of the church to heaven, clearing the way for the tribulation here on earth. Is that right?

We began by looking at the context around Jesus’ words, which is His long goodbye talk at John 13:33 to 16:33. In this article, we’ll finish up the context, lay out four possible ways to understand Jesus’ words at John 14:1-3, then propose a “grading scale” to weigh these options. The next two articles in this series will examine these four positions in detail.

See the other articles in the “rapture series” here. See this entire article on “John 14:1-3 and the Rapture” as a single PDF here.

1c: Convo on Phillip’s implicit question (vv. 14:8-21)

Philip, perplexed, asks to see the Father. Jesus explains that Father and Son (and Spirit) mutually indwell one another in a mysterious way (Jn 14:10-11). This interwoven nature helps explain why the one God can eternally exist as three co-equal and co-eternal Persons.[1] This is why to “see” Jesus is to “see” the Father—to be with Jesus by means of trusting His Good News is to be “in God’s presence.”

But still—Jesus is physically leaving! He must leave so He can wage His divine campaign against the kingdom of darkness from on high through us (Jn 14:12).[2] Where does this leave us, then?

Well, Jesus promises to not leave us as orphans. The Father will send “another advocate to help you and be with you forever—the Spirit of truth,” (Jn 14:16-17). Unlike those outside God’s family, we will know this Spirit because He’ll reside with us and be inside us (Jn 14:17).[3] And so He won’t abandon us as orphans: “I will come to you” (Jn 14:18). On that day—that is, the day when the Advocate comes to dwell inside us—we will participate God’s inner life because we’ll be part of this mutual indwelling. “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you,” (Jn 14:20).

1d: Convo on Judas (not Iscariot’s) question (vv. 14:22-31)

When the Spirit takes residence inside us, Father and Son come along with Him: “we will come to them and make our home with them,” (Jn 14:23).

And yet, despite all this talk about being both absent and somehow “with us” at the same time, the fact is that Jesus is physically leaving us. Sure, the Spirit will be His proxy in the interim and, as we’ve seen, Father and Son will also tag along—but there is no physical, tangible “God with us” after the ascension.

Jesus realizes this will be a problem, because He returns to the theme and says it’s best that He leaves (Jn 14:28). If they love Him (and, by extension, love the victory over sin and Satan that His ministry is all about), then they should be glad that He’s headed back to the Father’s throne room. The scriptures “show” us the three Persons who comprise the One God by highlighting the “distinct and harmonious offices in the great work of redemption”[4] that each performs. In this case, Jesus casts a spotlight on the Father’s role in planning this divine rescue plan: “the Father is greater than I” (Jn 14:28). That is, as our vicarious surrogate and representative, Jesus is carrying out the Father’s plan—and that plan has Him leaving here and returning to the Father’s personal presence. By telling them about His departure He’s simply preparing them for this physical separation beforehand, so they’ll trust Him when it happens (Jn 14:29).

1e: Convo about the divine helper (vv. 15:26 to 16:15)

Jesus casts the Spirit’s role, and He and the Father’s spiritual presence within us via the Spirit, as an aid for evangelism (Jn 15:26-27). They must understand this, or else they might fall away from the faith (Jn 16:1). Bad times are coming, and true believers must stick with Him—this is Jesus’ point throughout John 15 (see esp. Jn 15:9-10). “I have told you this, so that when their time comes you will remember that I warned you about them,” (Jn 16:4).

Jesus has carefully meted out more information over time. He didn’t mention His long absence and the community’s mission beforehand “because I was with you, but now I am going to him who sent me,” (Jn 16:4-5). This is a physical departure for another place, returning to His words at John 14:2-4.

Though both Phillip and Thomas have asked Jesus where He’s going (Jn 13:36, 14:5), Jesus knows their questions are actually grief-stricken exclamations borne of shock (Jn 16:5-6). I must go, Jesus explains, because if I don’t, then the Advocate won’t arrive and carry out His mission through you all (Jn 16:7-11). But, when the Spirit arrives, He’ll guide believers into all truth—i.e., they’ll understand it all soon enough (Jn 16:13-14).

“Jesus went on to say, ‘In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me,’” (Jn 16:16). His meaning is unclear, but it’s best to see Jesus as speaking about the resurrection on Easter morning and the 40 days of instruction which follow.[5]

1f: Convo about the resurrection reunion (vv. 16:16-28)

The disciples are once again confused—the concept of Jesus’ death and resurrection makes no sense to them (Jn 16:17-18).

Jesus ignores their questions about the “why” and “how” of His departure, and instead reassures them that “it’ll be worth it all” when He returns (Jn 16:20-23). Their joy at beholding Jesus’ glorified and resurrected person, coupled with the power of the Holy Spirit poured out from on high at Pentecost, will turbo-charge their zeal to take His Good News to Judea, Samaria, and to the uttermost parts of the earth. Therefore, their joy will be irrepressible and complete (Jn 16:22, 24).

During the 40 days between His resurrection and ascension, Jesus will no longer speak to them figuratively— “I will no longer use this kind of language but will tell you plainly about my Father,” (Jn 16:25). Indeed, Luke tells us: “He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God,” (Acts 1:3).

Jesus then ends His long farewell address by pivoting back to where the discussion began—to His long-term departure, not simply the interval between Good Friday and Easter morning: “I came from the Father and entered the world; now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father,” (Jn 16:28).

Throughout the farewell address, Jesus refers to His departure and return in at least three different contexts; (a) His physical departure to the Father’s presence and eventual physical return, (b) His physical departure to the Father and His spiritual return via the Holy Spirit, and (c) His physical departure by death and His physical return on Easter morning. He dips in and out of these contexts repeatedly; first one, then the other, then still another. This means the reader cannot assume an “obvious” reading of John 14:2-4, but must follow the train of Jesus’ thought throughout the entire farewell address to make a reliable conclusion.

2: What does Jesus mean at John 14:1-3?

This much is clear:

  • Jesus speaks of a physical departure to a place where the disciples cannot follow (Jn 13:33). He identifies His destination as “to the One who sent me,” (Jn 7:33; cp. “just as I told the Jews” at Jn 13:33). The One who sent Him was God (Jn 1:14, 18).
  • Peter asks why they cannot follow Jesus to this destination (Jn 13:36-37).
  • Jesus responds by asking the disciples to trust Him (Jn 14:1). The discussion still centers on Jesus’ physical departure.
  • His destination is the Father’s personal presence, which he figuratively refers to as “my Father’s house.” Assuming the likeness of a kindly innkeeper, Jesus says He’s headed off to prepare “rooms” for all believers and will one day return to bring Christians to His Father’s “house.”

It seems there are four possible options for understanding John 14:2-3, and they each rely on different definitions of “my Father’s house.”

Table 1

2a: A grade scale for bible study

I suggest the following grading scale to evaluate the strength of a passage’s teaching:[6]

  • Grade A: Explicit teaching. The passage either (a) makes some direct statement in proper context, or (b) directly teaches on the specific issue (e.g., justification by faith, Jesus’ resurrection, Jesus as the only way of salvation, the virgin birth, etc.). Hold closely and aggressively to doctrines with Grade A support.
  • Grade B: Implicit teaching. Though there may not be a specific statement in context, or a direct passage about the subject using the summary terms the Church has developed over time, there is only one responsible conclusion (e.g., doctrine of the Trinity, two-nature Christology, baptism of professing believers only). Hold closely and aggressively to doctrines with Grade B support.
  • Grade C: A principal or logical conclusion—an inference. The issue is the application of a general principle from scripture in context, and/or a logical conclusion or inference from the data in proper context. “Because A, then it makes sense that B, and so we have C.” It isn’t the only conclusion possible, but it is a reasonable one (e.g., presence of apostolic sign gifts today, the regulative principle of worship, music styles in worship). Agree to disagree on doctrines with Grade C support, because the evidence is not conclusive for one position or the other.
  • Grade D: A guess or speculation. No explicit or implicit scriptural support, evidence falls short of a persuasive conclusion from the data, and it’s built on shaky foundations—“because A, then it makes sense that B, and therefore it could mean C, and so D.” It’s an educated guess based on circumstantial evidence (e.g., who wrote the Book of Hebrews). Hold very loosely to issues with Grade D support—never force your guess on another believer.
  • Grade E: Poor or non-existent support. No explicit or implicit evidence, no logical conclusion or inference from data, and cannot be taken seriously even as a guess. The passage doesn’t support the issue at hand. Ditch passages with Grade E support.

In the next article, we’ll look at Option 1 from the table, above.

[1] This is called “perichoresis,” which Erickson helpfully defines as: “Indwelling or mutual interpenetration. An ancient teaching that understands the Trinity as consisting of three persons, so closely bound together that the life of each flows through each of the others,” (Concise Dictionary, s.v., “perichoresis,” p. 152).

[2] Calvin, John, p. 2:90. Alvah Hovey, Commentary on John, in American Commentary (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1885), p. 286.

“A very wonderful promise! But has it been fulfilled? We think it has. For if we look at the wonders of the Day of Pentecost, together with the events that followed in the rapid spread of the gospel during the apostolic age, it does not seem extravagant to regard them as greater than any which took place during the ministry of Christ. And if we compare the spiritual results of the three most fruitful years of the ministry of Paul, of Luther, of Whitefield, or of Spurgeon, with the spiritual results of Christ’s preaching and miracles for three years, we shall not deem his promise vain. And if it be urged against the latter instances that miracles are wanting, it may be replied that supernatural works in the realm of spirit are superior, rather than inferior, to those in the world of sense—that to raise a soul from death unto life is really a greater act than to raise a dead body from the grave.”

[3] Gk: ὅτι παρʼ ὑμῖν μένει καὶ ἐν ὑμῖν ἔσται.

[4] 1833 New Hampshire Confession of Faith, Article II. 

[5] This is Chrysostom’s interpretation and it’s followed by many modern interpreters (“Homily LXXIX,” in NPNF1, vol. 14, ed. Philip Schaff, trans. G. T. Stupart (New York: Christian Literature Company, 1889), p. 291).

There are two other reasonable options to understand Jn 16:16f.

First is that Jesus speaking of the coming of the Spirit—they will soon not see Him any longer, but nevertheless they will “see” Him by the illumination of the Spirit. This hinges on the two different words for “see” which John uses, and the conclusion that if John were speaking of them physically “seeing” Jesus soon, he would have used the same word for “sight” in the sentence. But he didn’t. So, there must be some distinction between the two words, and the latter can be interpreted as a mental or spiritual perception (BDAG, s.v., sense A.4). John Calvin is an eloquent champion for this view (Commentary on the Gospel According to John, vol. 2 (reprint; Bellingham: Logos, 2010), p. 147). More recently, Edward Klink advances this proposal (John, ZECNT (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2016; Kindle ed.), loc. 18998f). This interpretation is plausible but seems too cute by half. Jesus’ insistence on them seeing Him again and being filled with joy (Jn 16:20f) seem to indicate something more than spiritual enlightenment.

A second option is that Jesus is speaking of His second coming. But His audience never saw the second coming. It seems hollow if Jesus assured them all that they’d soon see Him, but He really meant that the Christians alive at His second coming would see Him.

[6] I am indebted to Paul Henebury’s “Rules of Affinity” as the inspiration for this grading scale. I did not use his grading scale or his descriptions, but I did take his general concept.

1 Thessalonians 4 and the Rapture

1 Thessalonians 4 and the Rapture

Many American Christians have questions about something called “the rapture.” These questions are often tied to a particular flavor of premillennialism called “dispensationalism.” According to this framework, “the rapture” means “the idea that Christ will remove the church from the world prior to the great tribulation.”[1] They believe the rapture is before the Great Tribulation, so it is “pre-tribulational.” This teaching relies heavily on 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, along with other supporting passages. This article will evaluate whether this passage teaches a pre-tribulational rapture.

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

Paul begins a new subject at 1 Thessalonians 4:13.[2] Maybe the church had written to Paul with this question, or maybe Timothy had relayed it in person (1 Thess 3:6f). Regardless, Paul doesn’t want the church in Thessalonica to be upset and grieve, as if they had no hope.

Why are they upset? We don’t know how the issue came up, but wrong ideas seem to taken root in the congregation about Jesus’ return. This isn’t surprising, because Paul didn’t spend much time with them before he was run out of town (Acts 17:1-9).

What is this hope that ought to stop them from grieving? Paul explains:

For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. (1 Thessalonians 4:14).

Paul explains[3] that, because Jesus has died and rose again, in the same way[4] God will bring with Jesus those who have died (“fallen asleep”) while in union with Him. So, anyone who believes that Jesus is the hinge upon which God’s single plan to rescue us and this world turns—that is, any believer—will be resurrected and be with Jesus forever. This means there is hope, whether the believer is alive or dead.

According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep (1 Thessalonians 4:15).

In fact, the believers who are alive when Jesus returns will not be “first in line” to see Him. The dead believers will not be left behind. What does this mean? Paul explains …[5]

For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first (1 Thessalonians 4:16).

The reason dead Christians won’t miss anything is because Jesus Himself will come from heaven and resurrect “the dead in Christ” first. Jesus will come very publicly, very loudly—accompanied with both a piercing battle cry[6] and the sound of a blasting trumpet. So, the dead believers will be resurrected first—but what about the believers who are still alive when Christ returns?

After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever (1 Thessalonians 4:17).[7]

After the dead in Christ are resurrected in the same way Jesus was (i.e., miraculously), those who are still alive will be caught up, snatched, or suddenly seized away[8] into the clouds to meet Jesus in the air as He returns. The word Paul uses, which the NIV translates as “meet,” suggests an advance reception for an arriving dignitary.[9] This happens right after the resurrection of the dead believers, so that together they will meet Jesus in the air as one group. And so, Paul concludes, in this way all believers will be with the Lord for all time.

The point is that dead believers have reason to hope. They will miss nothing. So, when Paul makes his conclusion at the end of v.17, he’s drawing those strands together. He’s answering a question about whether the dead in Christ will miss out when Jesus returns. The answer is no, both dead and living believers will meet the Lord together in the air. In this manner, all believers will be with Jesus forever.

Therefore encourage one another with these words (1 Thessalonians 4:18).

So, does 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 teach that the Lord will remove the church from the earth before the Great Tribulation? No, it does not. The passage isn’t about the rapture at all. It’s about how those who are in relationship with Jesus, whether alive or dead, always have hope that they’ll be with Him forever when He returns. To be sure, the passage contains the rapture, but that isn’t the same thing as being about the rapture.

Paul doesn’t directly answer the question about rapture timing. He doesn’t address that issue at all. He simply says that, when Jesus returns, both dead and living believers will meet Him in the air as one group and be with the Lord forever.

  • Two-stage return for Jesus. Does the group (a) then ascend back to heaven with Jesus, (b) clearing the way for the Great Tribulation on the people of Israel, and then (c) return to earth with Jesus afterwards?
  • Single return for Jesus. Or does the group simply fall in behind Jesus in the air as He continues His return—in which case this meeting is like a divine triumphal entry in which they met Him “half way”?

You must bring in other passages to make the case for a pre-tribulational rapture, which sees a two-stage return for Jesus. I’ll examine the most common support passages in follow-up articles. But the evidence in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 does not explicitly support any particular timing for the rapture. The closest Paul comes is the word he uses for this “meeting” with the Lord in the air (v. 17), which suggests a public welcome for Christ when He returns to His holy city.[10] In other words, there is a hint of support here for a single return for Jesus.

[1] Millard J. Erickson, The Concise Dictionary of Christian Theology, revised ed. (Wheaton: Crossway, 2001), s.v. “Rapture, Pretribulational view of the,” p. 167.

[2] The NIV omits the transitional conjunction δὲ.

[3] The conjunction at the beginning of v.14 is explanatory (γὰρ).

[4] The adverb of manner at v. 14b (οὕτως) explains that our dying and rising again will happen in the same way as Jesus.’

[5] The conjunction at the beginning of v.17 (ὅτι) is explanatory.

[6] BDAG, s.v., “κέλευσμα,” p. 538; LSJ, s.v., p. 936.

[7] Gk: ἔπειτα ἡμεῖς οἱ ζῶντες (nom. apposition) οἱ περιλειπόμενοι (nom. apposition) ἅμα σὺν αὐτοῖς ἁρπαγησόμεθα (paired with ἡμεῖς) ἐν νεφέλαις εἰς ἀπάντησιν τοῦ κυρίου εἰς ἀέρα· καὶ (conclusion) οὕτως πάντοτε σὺν κυρίῳ ἐσόμεθα.

“And then we—those who are alive and are still here—will be snatched away together with them into the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so, in this way we’ll be with the Lord for all time.”

[8] BDAG, s.v., “ἁρπάζω,” sense 2, p. 134; LSJ, s.v., sense 2, p. 246.

[9] See (a) BDAG, s.v. “ἀπάντησιν,” p. 97, (b) LSJ, s.v., (c) Erik Peterson, TDNT, s.v., p. 1.380–381. See also the context of the usage at Mt 25:6 and Acts 28:15.

[10] “According to 1 Th. 4:17, at the second coming of the Lord, there will be a rapture εἰς ἀπάντησιν τοῦ κυρίου εἰς ἀέρα. The word ἀπάντησις (also ὑπάντησις, DG) is to be understood as a tech. term for a civic custom of antiquity whereby a public welcome was accorded by a city to important visitors. Similarly, when Christians leave the gates of the world, they will welcome Christ in the ἀήρ, acclaiming Him as κύριος,” (Peterson, TDNT, s.v. “ἀπάντησις,”p. 1:380-381).