“And Peter”

“And Peter”

“… go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you’” (Mark 16:7).

One of the unique aspects of the Gospel of Mark is that account’s inclusion of details regarding the apostle Peter.  Most scholars believe that Peter was, in fact, one of the chief sources for much of the information Mark compiled, and this would account for the many instances where we find facts most likely recalled by Peter himself.

But Mark also records details that relate to Peter from other sources.  One particularly interesting example is found in the account of the women who visited the tomb of Jesus shortly after the resurrection and who were instructed to tell the disciples and Peter to go to Galilee where they would see Jesus (Mark 16:7).

Notice the message was to “… his disciples and Peter …” –  not “his disciples, including Peter…,” and we can see a whole world of significance in that expression. Saying “… his disciples and Peter …” clearly positions Peter alongside, not within, the fellowship of the disciples.   Peter’s fall in denying Jesus three times (Matthew 26:34) left the previously foremost apostle suddenly on the outside of the group he had previously led. 

Peter was repentant, of course (Matthew 26:75), but he had to learn that we cannot deny Jesus and still be considered one of his followers (Matthew 10:33, 2 Timothy 2:12, etc.).  Peter’s full reconciliation with the resurrected Jesus would occur later in Galilee (John 21:15-19), but at this point Peter was still looking at his relationship with God from the outside, not from within the group of the disciples. 

Yet despite his tragic failure, the divine message was not one of “tell the disciples but not Peter…”, it was one of “tell the disciples and Peter…”.  This must have been of great encouragement to the well-meaning fisherman.  By including him in the message – even at somewhat of a distance – Peter was given hope that God still desired to work with him.  That hope was fulfilled in the message Jesus gave Peter when they met in Galilee:

Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.” The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep” (John 21:15-18).

It is often said that Jesus asked Peter if he still loved him three times –  once for each of Peter’s denials –  but it is clear that Jesus was also driving home his point, that if Peter still loved him, he offered Peter full reconciliation and authorized him to continue the work to which he had been called.

It is a principle that applies to all of us.  When we fail in some way in our own lives, we may feel that we have put ourselves outside of the family of believers, and in some cases that may be what we have done (1 John 1:6).  But at those times the resurrection message to Peter applies to us also. It is a tremendously encouraging message that we are still positioned, if we choose, to return to full fellowship (1 John 1:7) – a fellowship that is based on affirmation and not on denial, on obedience and not on sin (1 John 2:1-2, 4-6). That is a message that brought hope to Peter with the words “… and Peter …”, and it is a message that offers ongoing hope and encouragement to all who wish to return to fellowship with the resurrected Christ.  

The Man with the Water Jar

The Man with the Water Jar

Scripture in Focus Mark 14:12-13

The Gospels give an intriguing detail to the story of the preparation for the Last Supper.  Mark tells us: 

On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, when it was customary to sacrifice the Passover lamb, Jesus’ disciples asked him, “Where do you want us to go and make preparations for you to eat the Passover?” So he sent two of his disciples, telling them, “Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him” (Mark 14:12-13).

There are two aspects to this short account that might pique our interest:  first, that it would be a man carrying a water jar.  In the ancient Near East – as is still the case today – a man carrying a water jar would be an unusual sight. In that culture women traditionally carried jars of water, as we read in several biblical stories (John 4:4–42, etc.). Sometimes household servants (Deuteronomy 29:11; Joshua 9:21) would be sent to perform this task (we still use the expression “to carry someone’s water” to refer to performing menial chores), but it would most often be a female servant given this task.  Second, we might also wonder why the mysterious nature of this instruction. Why did Jesus not simply give the two disciples (Peter and John) directions such as “Go to the house of Samuel near the gate” or whatever?

As far as the man carrying the water jar is concerned, commentaries on the Bible have proposed several possible identifications.  One scholar has suggested that the man must have lived in an “Essene Quarter” of Jerusalem as the Essene religious group separated themselves from women and would have had to carry their own water.  This idea does not hold up, however, not only because there are no details in the story to substantiate this idea, but also because in any such “Essene Quarter,” there would likely have been many men carrying water.

Other commentaries have noted that according to Jewish custom, before the first day of unleavened bread the master of a house himself had to go to the public fountain to draw the water with which the unleavened bread for the Passover Feast was kneaded.  But Mark’s Gospel shows the man they were to meet was not the owner of the house and that the disciples were to follow him to: “… the owner of the house he [the water carrier] enters …” (Mark 14: 14).

It has been suggested that it is possible that the “man carrying a jar of water” was the Gospel writer Mark himself, as some traditions claim that Mark lived in the home of his mother in which the upper room where the Last Supper was held was located.  In this view, if Mark’s mother was a widow as tradition asserts, the family may have no longer been able to maintain servants even if their home was a large one, and Mark might have helped with tasks too heavy for his mother.  While this idea is sometimes accepted, we should remember that when Jesus instructed his disciples to “Say to the owner of the house …”, the Greek word for home “owner” is masculine and is more usually translated as “master of the house” (NKJV, ESV, etc.).  So this was not likely to have been the house of Mark’s mother.

But even if we cannot be sure of the identity of the man carrying water, the mysterious nature of Jesus’ instruction to his disciples can perhaps be understood in light of the events the New Testament describes.  It is clear that at this time in the days before Jesus’ arrest, Judas was already looking for an opportunity to betray him (Matthew 26:16). But in order for Jesus to fulfill the important symbolism of his own sacrifice as the Passover “Lamb,” it would have been vital that he not be arrested too early – before his death could enact the Passover sacrifice at the proper time. 

Given this situation, it is likely that Jesus utilized a plan by which he could keep the location of the Passover meal hidden from the other disciples until it was too late for Judas to arrange for Jesus’ arrest before or during the Passover meal.  As it was, we know that it was only at the meal itself – when Judas knew where Jesus was and where he would be going in the following hours – that he slipped away to arrange to lead the servants of the religious authorities to him that night (Matthew 26:47). But the mysterious reference to “a man carrying water” that Jesus used may well have stalled the plans of Judas for as long as was necessary.

Getting Strength Right

Getting Strength Right

It’s a verse that every Christian knows well: “Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong”(1 Corinthians 16:13). But it’s easy to know the verse and not see it in context – and this is the kind of verse where context is everything.  To really understand Paul’s powerful statement, we must notice his very next words, where he writes: “Do everything in love.” This is actually not a separate thought, as it might appear to be in our modern Bibles where thoughts are artificially separated into numbered verses.

Looking at the context in the sixteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians, we can clearly see how verses 13 and 14 really belong together – the verses before vs. 13 are about Apollos, and the verses after vs. 14 are about a different subject, the family of Stephanus. The two verses 13-14 are a single thought that Paul has in mind, and when we read the two verses together – as they should be read – we get what Paul wanted to tell us: “Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. Do everything in love.” 

But when we read the two verses together, they still sound like two separate thoughts – not because they are, but because of our flawed sense of what strength looks like.  What does strength have to do with love?  According to Paul, everything.  Paul’s thought is simply that strength and love have to operate together, because without the one, the other is incomplete. 

That may not sound like a profound concept, but it is one, nonetheless.  In our culture Christians – and especially male Christians – can often be divided into two groups: what we might call the muscular believers and the loving believers. It’s not that those who stress love can’t have muscle tone and those who stress strength can’t be loving – but that most of us simply tend to fit one of those stereotypical groups better than the other.  

Society in general forms along the same fault lines, of course:  the jocks and the nerds, the powerful and the poets, the assertive and the sensitive. But is one of these approaches to life somehow better (or more “manly”) than the other?

Consider the story of Jacob and his brother Esau (Genesis 25, 27).   Esau was an outdoorsman with hair on his chest – a hunter who liked to spend time in the wilderness. Jacob, on the other hand, was a man of the great indoors – he preferred to stay at home, liked to cook, and was clearly closer to his mother, while Esau (as you probably guessed) was his father’s favorite.  The contrast could hardly be stronger – the “rugged” man and the “milder” kind of man.  But you know what? God loved Jacob (Malachi 1:2) and chose him as the one whose name would identify the nation God wanted to build (Psalm 135:4). Clearly, God knew that being an outdoor “manly” man was not the only way to do masculinity. 

But the story doesn’t end there.  We see Jacob having to apply strength as God worked with him. Perhaps in that sense Jacob had to “toughen up,” but he wasn’t changed to a kind of “man’s man” identity – Jacob just developed a side he may have been somewhat lacking in.

When we look at the biblical record, all the “mighty men” of God exhibited or came to exhibit both sides of the strength-divide.  David is the classic example, of course. David was a gentle shepherd as well as a giant slayer, a poet and musician as well as a powerful and mighty man. The same can be said of Jesus himself. The Jesus who forcefully cleared the temple and the Jesus who wept for his friends were one and the same – the loving-tough Jesus who talked about sparrows and flowers in his parables yet was strong enough to endure great hardship (Luke 4:1-2) and to sacrifice himself for others (Hebrews 12:2).   

The balance of strength and love is something that Jesus also taught his followers. There were times when he urged his disciples to “toughen up” (Matthew 26:40), but there were other times when he showed them they needed to roll back the tough stuff – like the occasion some of them wanted to call in an air-strike on a Samaritan village that had refused Jesus hospitality (Luke 9:54).  Jesus made the point that mere insults do not call for munitions – heavenly or otherwise. He showed his followers that strength and love are both necessary: that strength must never prevent us from applying love and love need never prevent us from being strong.

Paul himself exhibited the same balance.  The apostle who suffered hardships with great strength – ranging from being repeatedly beaten to being shipwrecked three times (2 Corinthians 11:25) – was the same apostle who penned the Bible’s greatest chapter on love (1 Corinthians 13). He knew that strength and love are both needed.

And that is Paul’s point in 1 Corinthians 16:13-14.  We need to learn a right balance if we do not already have it – we are called to be strong and we are called to love. We are called to let our love be expressed without weakness and our strength to be used continually in love. 

Understanding an Unwise Vow

Understanding an Unwise Vow

If you have read it, you doubtless remember the story of Jephthah, the Old Testament leader (Judges 11) who vowed to sacrifice the first thing that walked out of his house when he returned home if God would grant him success in battle.  Sadly, as you know, Jephthah returned to be greeted by his daughter who happened to be the first person to come out of the house to greet him (Judges 11:31).

Reading this story, it is hard not to wonder about the apparent stupidity of Jephthah’s vow.  Why would anyone play “Russian roulette” with their family’s lives in that way? What were the chances that it would not be one of his family members who would walk out of their home?

Actually, there is a fairly simple reason why the man’s vow was perhaps more understandable. Today, many homes in the Middle East are no different from those in the rest of the world, but even now many traditional homes of poorer people living on the land have not changed in thousands of years and are essentially the same as those of the Old Testament period.

In the simple homes of the ancient Near East, the family lived in a large “living room” which was the main, and often only, room of the house. That room frequently had a sunken area at one end that functioned as a stall where the family’s livestock were brought at night to protect them.  With this living arrangement, each morning someone in the house would open the door at the animals’ end of the house – from within, of course –  and drive the animals out to freshen the air in the home while the women prepared the first meal of the day.
 
There is no reason to doubt that Jephthah’s home was any different from this basic house plan. Jephthah was not rich.  As the son of a prostitute he was scorned by his half-brothers and driven from the family home, so his own dwelling was more than likely of the poorer type.

Now, if Jephthah knew he would travel in the cool night hours (as much travel was conducted in that time), he might well have known that he would return home in the early morning about the time the animals would be driven out of the house.  Such a situation would mean, of course, that Jephthah would expect it to be one of his animals that would be the first thing to meet him, in which case his vow was perhaps not as foolish  –  at least in its intent –  as it might seem at first.

Although the conclusion of the story may indicate Jephthah’s unfortunate daughter was sacrificed (Judges 11:38), the matter may have had a better outcome.  If we look closely at Jephthah’s vow, we find that what he said was: “Whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me when I return in triumph from the Ammonites will be the Lord’s, and I will sacrifice it as a burnt offering” (Judges 11:31, emphasis added). Notice the word “and” emphasized in this passage.  The Hebrew connective particle “v” that is translated as “and” can also mean “or.” We see this, for example, in 1 Kings 18:27: “… Perhaps he is deep in thought, OR busy, OR traveling,” where the word translated “or” is the Hebrew “v.”

This means that Jephthah’s vow should perhaps be better translated: “Whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me when I return in triumph from the Ammonites will be the Lord’s, OR I will sacrifice it as a burnt offering.”   Thus, many scholars believe that Jephthah’s daughter was  “dedicated” to God in that she was made to live a life of virginity. This would agree with the end of the story which tells us that the young woman requested: “… Give me two months to roam the hills and weep with my friends, because I will never marry” (Judges 11:37), and that:  “After the two months, she returned to her father, and he did to her as he had vowed. And she was a virgin” (Judges 11:38).  

But whether his daughter was dedicated or sacrificed, the fact that she was the first out of the house was clearly not a possibility Jephthah expected – as we see in the fact that on seeing her, he tore his clothes and cried out in anguish (Judges 11:35).  So Jephthah’s vow was perhaps not as blatantly foolish as it might seem at first and the result obviously unintentional, but the vow was unwise, nevertheless, and the story can remind us all of the extreme care we should utilize in making promises so that they do not end up hurting us or others.   

Learning to Do Right

Learning to Do Right

Learn to do right …” (Isaiah 1:17).

Isaiah’s statement “Learn to do right” is simple enough, but it deserves looking at.  In the ancient Hebrew in which the words were written – just as in English – the word “learn” can connote learning a fact as we might do when we listen to a teacher or read a book.  But, again just as in English, “learn” can also mean to become accustomed to something or to practice it – just as we might say we are “learning” to live with a situation or learning to drive a car.

We learn by doing as much as we learn by listening, and it is context that usually tells us whether the word learn means to learn a fact by studying or to learn a skill by doing.   We see this dual usage of the word throughout the Bible, but in verses such as Isaiah 1:17 the word clearly means to learn a skill.  We see this in the words directly following Isaiah’s statement where he gives examples of learning to do right or good: 

“Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow” (Isaiah 1:17).

All these examples of “learning to do right” represent not facts to be learned but things that must be done – they must be practiced in order to be learned. Look at a couple of further examples of this same biblical word for “learn” translated in other ways:

“He trains my hands for battle; my arms can bend a bow of bronze” (2 Samuel 22:35).

“… men ready for military service – able-bodied men who could handle shield and sword, who could use a bow, and who were trained for battle” (1Chronicles 5:18).

In these examples, forms of the same word translated “learn” in Isaiah 1:17 are translated to show the military training people received – obviously through training exercises rather than through book-learning!

This is an important principle to grasp if we are to properly understand much of what is written in the Old Testament.  When scriptures say things such as “learn my laws” or “learn my statutes,” they invariably mean that we must learn facts or principles through study or listening. But when the Old Testament scriptures say we must “learn to do right” or “learn to do good,” it means learning through doing and practice. 

The principle is just as true in the New Testament.  When Jesus commanded his followers: “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me…” (Matthew 11:29), he meant that we would learn by doing – by wearing the yoke as an ox might do to plow a field or pull a load.  This helps us to better understand the stinging rebuke Jesus gave to the Pharisees when he told them: “…go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’” (Matthew 9:13).  In telling the hypocritical religionists of his day to learn what a scripture meant, Jesus implied not that they learn its meaning from a book, but that they learn its meaning by doing it.

Although the distinction between learning by studying and learning by doing may seem like a simple one, it is vitally important.  In the modern world we are so used to the concept of learning being an academic one – usually relating to learning facts – that we sometimes forget that is not what the Bible is telling us to do when it comes to learning what is right.  The Bible makes it clear that although we may learn its principles through study – and that is a necessary part of spiritual learning, of course – we truly learn to do right or good by doing it, through practice and continued action.  

That truth underlies much of what is written for our instruction.  It is the basis of what the apostle Paul wrote to Titus: “Our people must learn to devote themselves to doing what is good, in order to provide for urgent needs and not live unproductive lives” (Titus 3:14, emphasis added).

Learning to do good is a skill, not just a fact. Our response to the command to learn to do right begins in our study of God’s word, but only finds fulfillment in practicing God’s way.