When we read the Bible, we  find the word “Christ” was originally a title (“the Messiah”) so the name "Jesus Christ" actually means, of course, “Jesus the Messiah. But in the New Testament the name is found as both “Jesus Christ” and “Christ Jesus”  – is there a difference?

Because the New Testament was written by different authors over a number of years, it is perfectly possible that different authors might have had different preferences in expression. And a particular writer might vary in word choice for the sake of style, so a difference might not be one of meaning but simply of form.

But it is also true that  word order works a little differently in the Greek language than it does in English. In Greek there is flexibility in the order of words in a sentence that we do not see in the English language, with the variation in word order being a way to show emphasis. This has led to some commentators stating that “Jesus Christ” probably stresses the human side of the Son of God while “Christ Jesus” emphasizes his divine nature. Although this is a popular view, it is probably wrong.

While “Jesus Christ” is found throughout the New Testament, we do not find the name “Christ Jesus” in the letters of Peter, John, James, or Hebrews. Most references to Christ Jesus are found in the writings of Paul (the only exception is in Acts 24:24, which discusses how Paul was talking to the Roman authority Felix about Jesus, so even there it is in a context related to Paul and influenced by him.

So “Christ Jesus” seems to be primarily a Pauline expression, but what, if anything, did Paul mean by using it  in distinction to “Jesus Christ”?   For example, in the book of Philippians, “Christ Jesus”  appears in Philippians 1:1, 8; and 2:5; while “Jesus Christ” is the form Paul uses in Philippians 1:2, 6, 11, 19; 2:11, 19. In the same way, in chapter 3 he speaks of Christ Jesus (3:3, 8, 12, 14), while he also refers to “Jesus Christ” (3:20). In Philippians 4,  4:7, 20, and 21 all have Christ Jesus, while 4:23 uses Jesus Christ again.  

Is there a pattern visible in the usage in these and other letters of Paul?  Some commentators say that when Christ comes before Jesus, Jesus’ position as Messiah is emphasized by Paul while when Jesus is before Christ, his work as Savior is emphasized. This would not seem to be the case because Christ Jesus appears in places where his saving work is specifically emphasized (e.g., 1 Timothy 1:15: “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost”).

I feel that there is a more likely reason for Paul’s usage of the two forms of Christ’s name.   Paul will often use Christ Jesus in talking about how he is a servant or apostle of Christ Jesus, or when he stresses that  we are “in Christ Jesus.” In other words, Paul seems to use “Christ Jesus” when he stresses a relationship with Christ – stressing Christ’s supremacy in the relationship.
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Paul does not deny Christ’s supremacy when he uses the more usual  New Testament expression Jesus Christ, of course, but he seems to emphasize it when he uses the form “Christ Jesus.”  

Every Christian knows that Jesus Christ was born in Bethlehem, but many do not know why.    There are actually two reasons why Jesus was born in that tiny Judean village, and both can be found in Scripture. First, it was foretold that the Messiah was to come from the house of David – to be a descendant of the young shepherd who became king of ancient Israel 1,000 years before the time of Christ. This was promised to David himself:

“When your days are over and you rest with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, your own flesh and blood, and I will establish his kingdom … and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be his father, and he will be my son … Your house and your kingdom will endure forever before me; your throne will be established forever” (2 Samuel 7:12-16).

This prophecy could not have been completely fulfilled by David’s physical descendants, but only by a Messianic King who could rule “forever” (vss. 13, 16).  That is why in the New Testament it was foretold of Jesus:  “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David” (Luke 1:32), and why, of course, Jesus is called the “Son of David” throughout the Gospels.

So the Davidic sonship of the Messiah was one reason for his eventual birth in Bethlehem – the place where David was born (and crowned) and his ancestral home (1 Samuel 17:12).   As a descendant of David, Joseph, the husband of Jesus’ mother Mary,  was required to travel to Bethlehem for a Roman census: 

“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)  And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David” (Luke 2:1-4).

But there is another reason for the Bethlehem nativity. The Old Testament Book of Micah contains a fascinating prophecy of what was to occur in the fulfillment of God’s promise of the Messiah:

“And you, O tower of the flock, hill of the daughter of Zion, to you shall it come, the former dominion shall come, kingship for the daughter of Jerusalem … But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days. … And he shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth. And he shall be their peace” (Micah 4:8, 5:2-5).

This prophecy tells us that the Messianic ruler who would shepherd his people was, like David, to come from Bethlehem and that he would eventually reign “to the ends of the earth.”  But notice another detail.  The prophecy begins “And you, O tower of the flock …” for which the Hebrew is migdal eder, literally “Tower of Eder.” This tower is first mentioned in the Book of Genesis.  It stood on the outskirts of Bethlehem  where  the patriarch Jacob’s wife Rachel (Genesis 35:18-19) gave birth to her son “Ben-Oni” (meaning “son of sorrow”), whose name was changed to Benjamin (“son of the right hand”).  In New Testament times, the tower was a watchtower used to guard the flocks of sheep that were pastured in that area.

The Jewish Mishnah (Shekalim vii. 4) indicates that sheep in the fields around Migdal Eder were controlled by the Temple in Jerusalem and were used to provide the animals sacrificed in the temple rituals.   A number of biblical scholars have pointed out that if the prophecy of Micah 4:8 was fulfilled literally, then Jesus may well have been born in some building in this general part of the outskirts of Bethlehem.  The word translated “manger” where the infant Jesus was placed (Luke 3:7) could also be translated as “stall” or any holding area for animals.

More importantly, have you ever wondered why the Gospel of Luke tells us that at the Nativity, angels appeared to shepherds? The heavenly host could have appeared, of course, to a group of soldiers, priests, travelers, or any other individuals, but we are told that they appeared to shepherds who were grazing their flocks in the area where Jesus was born (Luke 2:8-15).  If Jesus was born in the area of Migdol Eder, the area where the sacrificial lambs were born and raised, the shepherds would naturally have been the people present in that area.
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But regardless of the details of its fulfillment, the intent of the prophecy of Micah is clear.  The promised Messiah who was the Lamb who would be sacrificed for his people (John 1:29) would also be their future Shepherd (Matthew 2:6).  We see this principle throughout the Gospels, which speak of Jesus in both his initial human and later divine roles – as both the Servant and the future promised King, the Captive and the future Warrior, the Judged and the future Judge (Matthew 25:32, etc.).  In every case, at his first coming Jesus fulfilled the lesser role, and at his second coming he will fulfill the greater role.
 
And there is a lesson in this for us.  As we read the Gospel accounts and reflect on the life of Jesus, we should look carefully at how he carried out the lesser roles he fulfilled as a human being.  These roles are recorded so that our present lives may be modelled on his – just as he promises to eventually share his greater roles with us  if we are faithful in the lesser ones we have now (Luke 16:10).
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Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!  Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey (Zechariah 9:9).
 
The Gospel of Luke recounts how Jesus fulfilled the words spoken by the prophet Zechariah as he entered Jerusalem in a “triumphal entry” during the climactic week at the end of his ministry (Luke 19:28-44).   Luke tells us how Jesus instructed two of his disciples to go to a nearby home where they would find a young donkey and to bring it to him. He told the disciples that if anyone challenged them, they were to simply say: “The Lord needs it” (Luke 19:31).  The disciples did this – explaining to the donkey’s owners what Jesus had told them.
 
This initial part of the story is interesting in itself.  Jesus was, in effect, invoking the ancient principle of angaria (from a Babylonian word meaning “mounted messenger”) by which kings, rulers and other individuals with official responsibilities could requisition property for official use.  Angaria originated in the earliest postal systems in the ancient Persian, Greek and later Roman cultures where an animal could be “requisitioned” from its owner to carry the mail on the next stage of its multiple-staged journey, somewhat equivalent to the “Pony Express” of the American frontier.  In the Judea of Jesus’ day, under Roman rule, animals could be commandeered in this way for the emperor’s service, and the right was also expanded to include the needs of the king, and even magistrates and rabbis. 
 
A Messenger Received in Joy
 
This incident was, then, the prelude to the actual triumphal entry in which the crowds provided what we would call today a “red carpet” entry for Jesus by covering the road with their capes and the branches of trees to welcome him as he rode on the donkey into the city (Luke 19:35-37).   The scene was not unlike a humbler version of the great Roman “Triumphs” in which the grateful citizens celebrated the procession of heroes who had served the people.  In fact, the similarity with a Roman Triumph is more than  superficial, because the Triumph was a civil and religious ceremony which was held to publicly “celebrate and sanctify” the success of a commander who had led his forces to victory in the service of the people.  

But Jesus rejected the aggrandizing nature of the pagan Triumphs which fed the cult of personalities in Roman and other cultures, and he did this by riding humbly on a young donkey – the antithesis of the great horses of conquering kings and heroes – while fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9 in every detail. Yet Jesus did accept the people’s praise (Luke 19:40), and the details of the story from beginning to end show that a triumphal entry – a symbolic victory celebration – was intended.

The words of the crowds who welcomed Jesus in this triumphal entry are important. Luke tells us (Luke 19:38) that the crowds quoted from the great messianic Psalm 118 – which is why the Pharisees attempted to silence them (Luke 19:39).  This is the same psalm that contains, in vs. 22, the statement so significantly quoted by Jesus in Luke 20:17:  “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”  But also this psalm contains clear references to the triumphal entry of the Messiah:

* I look in triumph on my enemies (Psalm 118:7).
* I will not die but live, and will proclaim what the Lord has done (vs. 17).
* Open for me the gates of the righteous; I will enter and give thanks to the Lord (vs. 19).
* Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. From the house of the Lord we bless you. The Lord is God, and he has made his light shine on us. With boughs in hand, join in the festal procession up to the horns of the altar (vss. 26-27). 
 
Although Luke only cites a few of the words from Psalm 118, the psalm is in fact a full prophetic description of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem.
 
What Was the Victory? 
 
But if this was a triumph, what was the victory? Jesus had not yet defeated sin and death on the cross, and he had not yet completed the work he came to accomplish in this regard.  Yet there was one way in which a victory was surely celebrated.  The primary purpose of the angaria, by which Jesus obtained the donkey on which he rode, was to deliver a message. And at this point, at the end of his ministry, Jesus had successfully delivered the news of the kingdom of God to the point that it was now established and would continue to spread throughout the world.  He had also lived the perfect life needed in order that he could give himself as a sacrifice for all humankind.

In that sense, Jesus had fully triumphed in his work when he came to Jerusalem as “... your king who comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9, emphases added). The entry of Jesus into Jerusalem prior to his death was indeed a triumph: it celebrated Jesus’ righteous life and the fact that he had succeeded in delivering the message that he brought into the world.
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There is surely a lesson in this for us. In following Christ as his disciples we do not attempt to mimic everything he did, of course, but we should certainly follow in many of his steps, as he commanded us.  The dual nature of Christ’s fulfilled mission – of living in obedience to God and carrying his message – is a dual opportunity and goal for every one of his followers, also. To focus only on our own obedience or only on the message we were commissioned to carry is not a complete fulfillment of the calling we have been given.  To the extent that we are able, with God’s help, to live lives pleasing to God and to serve him in carrying his message, we too participate in the victory of Jesus. ​

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14).
 
There have been endless arguments between Christians and non-Christians through history as to whether the Hebrew word betulah in this verse – translated “virgin” in most English Bibles – should actually be translated “virgin” or just “young woman.” Non-believers have also argued that the son promised by Isaiah was simply the Jewish king Hezekiah. Conservative Christians feel there is ample evidence to show that the translation “virgin” is correct,  and that the meaning of Immanuel – “God with us” – as well as the context of the promise could hardly be applied to Hezekiah.

But in this blog post we will go beyond those questions to focus on what the verse says and to look at its wider setting in the book of Isaiah. When we read Isaiah’s prophecy of the Immanuel to come, we may focus on the virgin birth of the child or the meaning of his name – but that is only half of the significance of this great verse. The incredible promise of “God with us” made in this verse is coupled, if we think about it, with the equally astounding prediction of Immanuel’s humanity. God could have dwelt with humanity in the form of some kind of  spirit being – to teach his ways – but the words “the virgin shall conceive and bear a son” show the humanity of the Immanuel as much as his name shows his divinity.

This duality of the fully human and fully divine Immanuel is stated again a few chapters later when Isaiah takes up the theme of the promised child again: 

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

The promised One’s humanity is seen in “for to us a child is born” with the emphasis on his human birth contrasted with “to us a son is given” signifying a non-human origin that is made clear in the titles that follow.  Interestingly, the four titles are equally indicative of the human and divine with “Wonderful Counselor” and “Prince of Peace” being essentially human titles and “Mighty God” and “Everlasting Father” being obviously titles that could only apply to God.

So, beyond its prediction of the virgin birth, the Immanuel promise of Isaiah stresses both the humanity and divinity of the One who was to come – a fact stressed equally in New Testament scriptures such as the transcendent opening verses of the Gospel of John:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God … And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:1, 14).

The statements that “the Word was God” and “the Word became flesh” are equally important in showing the Immanuel promise was fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ. Luke’s Gospel confirms the duality in the same way:

“He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” (Luke 1:32–33).
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Once again, the words “Son of the Most High” and “his father David” proclaim the unique and unmistakable roles of the Immanuel – the promised one who would be born divine and human, equally God and man, and who would eternally bring the two together. 

Lessons from the Life of Jesus: Practical Insights from the Gospels has always been one of the most popular downloads on this site and is now even better!  The new, expanded, third edition includes five new chapters – enhancing an already helpful book and adding many new practical lessons.

Rather than simply retelling the story of the life of Jesus, this e-book focuses on some of the details of the Gospel narratives that are easy to miss, but which can help us to better understand his life and teachings.  In each case there are lessons we can learn and apply – sometimes with the potential for an effect on our lives that is well out of proportion to the seemingly small detail that conveys the lesson.

Enrich your understanding of the life and work of Jesus and take away lessons you can apply today.  You can download a copy in any of three formats – .pdf, .epub, and .mobi – to read on your computer, smart phone, or e-book reader.  No registration or email address is needed - simply click and download from our e-books page here.

Of all the prophecies found in the Bible, perhaps the most amazing are those found in the twenty-second psalm.  The clearly prophetic details of the death of the individual spoken of in Psalm 22 match the New Testament accounts of the crucifixion of Christ found in the four Gospels to such a degree that they remain a central part of Christian faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Skeptics have certainly attempted to negate the prophetic aspects of this psalm, which was composed approximately 1,000 years before the life of Christ, but the reality of its foretelling cannot be ascribed to sheer coincidence. 

Certainly parts of Psalm 22 may have had a preliminary application to events in the life of David himself, but many of its details – such as the dividing of the individual's clothes and the casting lots for them, and the piercing of his hands and feet – obviously did not. 

In the same way, it is clear that the crucifixion of Jesus was witnessed by a great many individuals, and it is unrealistic in the extreme to suggest that the early Christians simply said that all the details mentioned in Psalm 22 occurred at the death of Jesus when so many could have contradicted them if that were not the case.

Here are just some of the statements found in Psalm 22 alongside their parallels in the Gospel accounts of Jesus' crucifixion.  A number of other correspondences can be seen by reading the psalm in its entirety, but consider the following selected examples:
 
Psalm 22:1 My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Matthew 27:46 About the ninth hour Jesus cried…“My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?”
 
Psalm 22:7 All who see me mock me;
Matthew 27:41 In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him
 
Psalm 22:7 they hurl insults, shaking their heads.
Matthew 27:39 Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads
 
Psalm 22:8 “He trusts in the Lord,” they say, “let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him …”
Matthew 27:43 He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him …
 
Psalm 22:14 I am poured out like water,
John 19:34 ... pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water.
 
Psalm 22:15 My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;
John 19:28 Later… so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, "I am thirsty"...
 
Psalm 22:16 … they pierce my hands and my feet.
John 19:23a … the soldiers crucified Jesus
 
Psalm 22:18  They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment…
John 19:23-24a When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining … “Let’s not tear it,” they said, “Let’s decide by lot who gets it.”
 
Psalm 22 does not end with the death of the one it describes, however.  The psalm continues by speaking of a time beyond the death of that clearly messianic individual:
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All the ends of the earth
will remember and turn to the Lord,
and all the families of the nations
will bow down before him,
for dominion belongs to the Lord
and he rules over the nations.
All the rich of the earth will feast and worship;
all who go down to the dust will kneel before him –
those who cannot keep themselves alive.
Posterity will serve him;
future generations will be told about the Lord.
They will proclaim his righteousness,
declaring to a people yet unborn:
He has done it! (Psalm 22:27-31).
 
Notice especially the closing words of the psalm: “He has done it!”  These words, referring to the future culmination of the purposes of God beyond the suffering and death of the promised Messiah, were also closely echoed in the final words of Jesus on the cross:  “It is finished!” (John 19:30) – words marking not the end, but the beginning of his victory. 

Luke’s Gospel indicates that the evangelist may have particularly appreciated good food – at least it shows clearly that he noticed and commented on food more than any other Gospel writer!  But Luke does not simply mention food and meals – he draws lessons from them.
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As a frame of reference, we should notice that Luke’s account of the life of Jesus really does have a noticeable focus on food. For example, while Matthew uses the word “eat” 18 times, and John only 15 times, Luke uses the word 33 times. Mark also uses this word quite frequently (25 times), but overall Luke uses a number of eating and food-related words twice as many times as Mark and the other Gospels, so his emphasis on this is clear. Within his Gospel, Luke also – uniquely – describes ten meals in which Jesus participated, and we will look at them all briefly.   Click here to continue reading.

In reading the Gospel accounts of the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist (or the Baptizer, as he is sometimes called), Christians sometimes wonder why Jesus, being sinless (2 Corinthians 5:21; etc.), would undergo a ritual that was specifically meant to symbolize and affirm repentance from sin (Matthew 3:11).  Readers of the Gospel accounts may also wonder what Jesus meant in telling John – who was at first reluctant to baptize him –  that  it would be a “fulfillment of all righteousness” (Matthew 3:15).

Jesus’ expression “all righteousness” indicates a plurality, and there were indeed a number of reasons his baptism by John fulfilled various aspects of God’s will.  We can summarize those reasons by saying that in undergoing baptism, Jesus fulfilled seven significant purposes:
1) He endorsed the baptism of John who was rejected by the religious authorities of that day: “the Pharisees and the experts in the law rejected God's purpose for themselves, because they had not been baptized by John” (Luke 7:30).  This was important as John’s ministry fulfilled a number of Old Testament prophecies.

2) He submitted himself to the call and command of a servant of God regarding personal behavior.  As part of his overall perfect obedience, Jesus obeyed and taught others to obey what God’s appointed servants decreed: “The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. So you must be careful to do everything they tell you” (Matthew 23:2-3).

3) He identified directly with the sinful people of Israel, and of the world, for whom he would act as their sin-bearer: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us” (2 Corinthians 5:21), and the lamb of God who would be sacrificed in a substitutionary death: “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29).

4) He fulfilled the ritual requirement of washing placed on all the priests before beginning his own ministry. This was also necessary to serve as a perfect high priest for humanity: “We do have such a high priest … who serves in the sanctuary, the true tabernacle set up by the Lord, not by a mere human being … that is a copy and shadow of what is in heaven” (Hebrews 8:1-5).

5) He showed the important link between baptism and the receipt of the Spirit of God. On the Day of Pentecost, when the Spirit was made freely available, the apostle Peter stressed this same link: “Repent and be baptized … in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38).

6) He provided an opportunity for God to publicly reveal and confirm him as his Son: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17).

7) He gave an example regarding the practice of baptism for future Christians to follow: “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps”(1 Peter 2:21). This truth lay beneath the commission Jesus gave his disciples directly before his ascension: “go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you” (Matthew 28: 19-20).

There were thus at least seven reasons why Jesus underwent baptism: to support John, to teach us the link between baptism and receipt of the Spirit of God,  to display obedience, to serve as an example for us, to provide an opportunity for God to reveal his Son, and not least to be counted as if he were a sinner and thus identified with sinners – while fulfilling the ritual requirements of the law in order to serve as a purified high priest for sinners.  Seen in this way, we realize that far from being a ritual footnote to his ministry, Jesus’ baptism was an event of the greatest significance.   It was directly after his baptism, of course, that Jesus resisted Satan, called his first disciples, and  began to publicly teach, heal the sick, and perform miracles. It is no exaggeration to say that the baptism of Jesus was the necessary preparation for everything that the Son of God would accomplish in his earthly ministry, as well as being the public announcement that his ministry was about to begin. 

“Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” (Matthew 13:55)

Mainstream Christianity is divided on the understanding of this verse  and its parallel in Mark 6:3. Roman Catholics and Orthodox Christians, as well as some Anglicans and Lutherans,  believe the brothers and sisters mentioned were in fact Jesus’ cousins, or children of Joseph by a former marriage, and that Mary remained a virgin throughout her life. The main argument for this view is that the Greek word adelphos used in this scripture can also sometimes be used in a broader sense meaning step-siblings or cousins.

Most Protestants believe that as there is no indication in scripture of this former marriage, it is better to understand sisters and brothers as literal siblings.  They argue that although adelphos can sometimes mean  “cousin,”  its normal use is “brother,” and the actual word for “cousin” in Greek  (anepsios) is never used of any of Jesus’ family members.   If the children mentioned as being with Mary in Matthew 13:55 were from a former marriage of Joseph,  those brothers and sisters are not mentioned when Mary and Joseph went to Bethlehem, or to Egypt, or returned to Nazareth.
 
Another argument  sometimes proposed  in this context is that in three of the Gospels, when  Jesus is told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to see you,” he replied: “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it” (Matthew 12:46-50; Mark 3:31-35; Luke 8:19-21). This is sometimes said to show that Jesus’ brothers and sisters were just disciples, but the scriptures are clearly speaking metaphorically.  In fact, the apostle John wrote that Jesus “… went down to Capernaum with his mother, his brothers, and his disciples …” (John 2:12), and here Jesus’ actual family members are clearly distinguished from his disciples.  

A final issue to consider is that Protestants believe other scriptures such as  Matthew 1:25 which says of Joseph, “ But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son…” and Luke 2:7 which says of Mary: “and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son” indicate Jesus’ brothers and sisters were physical siblings. By the second century, this was the position of  some members of the early Church such as Tertullian (c. AD 160-225), whereas others believed in the perpetual virginity of Mary.
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Yet ultimately far more important than any theological or historical discussion of whether Jesus did have siblings is the fact that the Son of God now does have brothers and sisters.  The Book of Hebrews tells us that we who follow Jesus since his resurrection  become his brothers and sisters in the family of God:  “Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters. He says, ‘I will declare your name to my brothers and sisters…’” (Hebrews 2:11-12).  It is clear that those with whom we share fellowship in Christ are now his brothers and sisters, as well as ours.

In his book The Cost of Discipleship, the theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously distinguishes between what he called “cheap grace” and “costly grace.” While Bonhoeffer defined cheap grace as requiring nothing from us and being ultimately meaningless, he characterized costly grace, on the other hand, as something that takes something from us, something that hurts, something that costs:  “the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.”

Exactly the same can be said of Christian love.  Love that does not cost us anything ultimately accomplishes little and has little depth.  It is so often only costly love that makes a real difference in the lives of others. There is a wonderful example of this principle in the Gospel of Luke – though it is one that we often read over – in the story of Zacchaeus the tax collector:

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through.  A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy.  He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way. When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly. All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.” But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.” Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham (Luke 19:1-9).

By way of back-story to this account, Luke tells us that as Jesus approached Jericho he healed a blind man at which the people praised God (Luke 18:35-42).  As he entered Jericho then, Jesus was a hero – beloved of the city’s inhabitants who had gone out to meet him as he approached.  But in Chapter 19 Luke tells us that Jesus was only passing through the town and that he declined to stay overnight. This doubtless disappointed many citizens, especially as Middle Eastern culture meant that as a teacher of God’s word (to say nothing of the fact that he was regarded as a famous prophet who healed by the power of God), Jesus doubtless would have been offered hospitality and would normally have accepted it. 

But as Jesus left Jericho, a strange scene unfolds.  Zacchaeus, the chief regional tax collector for the Roman occupation, desired to see Jesus and so he ran down the road a little way and climbed up a sycamore tree to get a better view.  The fact that it is mentioned that it was a sycamore tree is interesting as those trees usually have a profuse covering of large leaves and it is very possible that Zacchaeus chose the tree as one from which he could see Jesus as he passed by, but not be seen by crowds that thronged around the Teacher.

As the local tax collector and thus a “collaborator” in the eyes of many, Zacchaeus may well have been the most disliked individual in the city.  Tax collectors often charged far more than the actual Roman tax rates and pocketed the extra cash – as Luke tells us was true in this case (Luke 19:8). So positioning himself in the leafy tree might well have been a conscious and prudent decision on the part of Zacchaeus.  A hated tax collector caught in the swirl of a large crowd could easily come to harm.

Yet Luke tells us that when Jesus drew near to where the collaborator was, he called out and not only greeted the man, but openly stated that he would like to spend the night in his home.  We have to concentrate on this situation to really understand the effect of this behavior on the inhabitants of Jericho.  Not only had the teacher declined the hospitality of "decent" citizens, but now, after indicating he would not stay the night, he changed his mind in order to stay in the home of the most hated man in town. Not only was Zacchaeus hated, but as a tax collector he was “unclean” and anyone who entered his home, ate there, or stayed the night, would automatically also be made unclean.

The reaction of the crowd as recorded by Luke is understandable in these circumstances: “All the people saw this and began to mutter, ‘He has gone to be the guest of a sinner’” (Luke 19:7).  Because of his reaching out to Zacchaeus in love Jesus incurred the total displeasure of not just a few, but of “All the people.” The famous prophet and teacher, the beloved healer of one of their own citizens, instantly became an object of local displeasure and perhaps even anger and scorn.

Nevertheless, as Luke shows, the love that Jesus extended to the hated individual was repaid in the man’s true and thorough repentance and his promise to more than restore all of the excess money he had taken from his neighbors (Luke 19:8).  We must remember that Zacchaeus already knew the law of Moses, already knew that it was wrong to cheat and steal.  It was not hearing an exposition of the law that changed the tax collector, but seeing the demonstration of love that Jesus made to him.  Zacchaeus was moved and transformed by that love, but it was not free.  Jesus immediately paid a price for the expression of his love, but he did so knowing full well that the cost of real love is often high.  

We have all seen pictures of Jesus teaching the disciples – adult males about the same age as Jesus himself.  But is this representation of the disciples accurate, or could the disciples have been significantly younger?

We should always remember that only one part of Jesus’ calling and training of disciples was unique – the calling.  In Judaism of the first century many rabbis or teachers taught students and trained them to be rabbis like themselves. The major difference was that young men wanting to be taught in this way usually sought out a teacher.  Jesus, on the other hand, directly called his students himself – something he stressed in his teaching (John 15:16).   

But apart from this aspect of “student selection” Jesus’ role as a rabbi or teacher was not unusual for its time and it is worth remembering that most students selected by rabbis were younger – commonly in their later teens.  It is perfectly possible, therefore, that a number of Jesus’ disciples were younger than we usually presume and there is some biblical indication that this might have been the case. 

The apostle John is known to have lived till very late in the first century, but while we presume he was perhaps younger than the others we should remember that the other disciples seem to have been martyred earlier in the century – very possibly well before they would normally have died.

Also, consider the interesting story regarding the occasion Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum and the collectors of the two-drachma temple tax came to Peter and asked, “Doesn’t your teacher pay the temple tax?” Jesus then told Peter to catch a fish – which miraculously had a four-drachma coin in its mouth – and to pay the tax for Jesus and for himself (Matthew 17:24-27).   It might seem odd that Jesus only provided the tax money for Peter and himself and not for the other disciples – until we realize that the tax only had to be paid by those aged 20 and above.

So it is possible that Peter alone of the disciples was older – a possibility which may throw light on the fact that Peter seems always to be the one who speaks for the other disciples Acts 2:14-36, etc.), why he is the only disciple said to be married at the time of Christs’ ministry (Matthew 8:14-17, etc.) and why he was given such a  prominent role in the period of the very early Church (Galatians 2:9).   

If many of the disciples were in fact younger than we often think, this would have had no bearing on their ability to act as witnesses of the resurrection. Jewish law accepted the witness of young men down to the age of bar mitzvah which usually was in the early teens.
Ultimately, the age of the disciples does not matter or we would have been told what age they were. On the other hand, recognizing the possibility of the relative youth of most of Jesus’ chosen followers can help us understand some things that might otherwise seem unclear in the New Testament.

But returning to how young Jews became students of a rabbi, it is helpful to remember that young men did not simply turn up at a rabbi’s door and expect to be taught.  There were relatively few rabbis and many young men.  Those who sought out a rabbi to follow were examined and tested by the older teacher and only a select few were chosen. Being selected to follow a rabbi and to continue his teaching was viewed as an exceptional honor in that society – perhaps indicating why we are told many of the disciples Jesus chose dropped everything they were doing and followed him immediately (Matthew 4:18-22).  

Maybe there is a lesson in this for us today.  Whatever the age of Jesus’ disciples at their calling, it is certain that the opportunity would have been regarded as a great honor and privilege – to be one of so few selected from so many.  Perhaps, in terms of our own lives and calling, that is something we need to remind ourselves of more often.  

All of the four Gospels record an event in which a woman came to Jesus during a meal and anointed him  (Matthew 26, Mark 14, Luke 7, John 12).  Many feel that Luke’s account refers to an event in Galilee early in Jesus’ ministry, while the stories told by Matthew, Mark, and John refer to a separate nearly identical event occurring in Bethany near the end of Jesus’ life. Some even divide these latter three stories into separate events because John apparently says the event he described occurred “six days before the Passover” (John 12:1), while Matthew and Mark say the event occurred “two days before Passover” (Matthew 26:2, Mark 14:1). 

But this confusion misses the fact that the different accounts may all represent the same anointing.  For one thing, John does not say the woman anointed Jesus six days before Passover. What he says is: “Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.  Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor” (John 12:1). John says Jesus came to Bethany six days before Passover, and that at some point while he was there a dinner was given in his honor.  So there is no contradiction between the accounts of Matthew, Mark and John in this regard.

As for the account in Luke, that story does not say where the event took place –  or when, though it is placed with other material from the early part of Jesus’ ministry.  Although many presume that Luke’s “orderly” (Luke 1:3) account is chronological, it does, in fact, often stray from a chronological sequence.  For example, in Luke 3 we read that King Herod shut John the Baptist up in prison (Luke 3:19-20), but then we read in the following verses that Jesus was baptized by John (Luke 3:21-22).  In reality, of course, John baptized Jesus before being placed in prison (Matthew 3:1-17; 4:12; John 1:29-34).  An even more striking example of “achronological” recording is seen at the end of Luke’s Gospel where he appears to compress the five weeks between the resurrection of Jesus and his ascension into a single day – if we treat what is said chronologically (compare Luke  24 with Matthew 28 and John 21).

As for differences in the anointing stories, they are small and easily explained. For example, Mathew and Mark say the woman anointed Jesus’ head; the other Gospels say his feet were anointed. But the woman may well have anointed Christ’s head and feet – recorded differently according to the stress the individual Gospel writers had in mind (for a kingly anointing, or an anointing for burial). 
 
Luke’s account says the event occurred in the home of a Pharisee named Simon; the others say it was in the home of Simon the Leper in Bethany. But Simon the Leper and Simon the Pharisee were probably one and the same.  A leper could never have hosted a dinner nor have partaken in one with other people – Simon the Leper must have been healed and could thus have been the same as Simon the Pharisee.  Simon may well have been referred to as “the Pharisee” in Luke because Luke stresses Jesus’ reply to Simon’s pharisaical and self-righteous attitude, while the other Gospels remember him as Simon the Leper.

So there is no real reason why all the Gospel accounts could not be referring to the same thing. That being the case, consider the probability that they are, in fact, simply different accounts of the same event.   It would be a strange coincidence if two different women (or more!) had gone to the house of a man called Simon, had anointed Jesus with exactly the same amount (300 denarii worth) of exactly the same kind of expensive perfume (nard), and had wiped his feet with their hair.  If they were different women, why did the Gospel writers not differentiate them in some way?  On the other hand, that Mary sister of Martha was the one woman who anointed Christ may perhaps be seen earlier in John’s account where he tells us: “(This Mary… was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.)” (John 11:2).  Note that John says “the same one who” rather than “one of the women who.”

It would also be strange if not one of the four Gospel writers recorded both or all stories, if multiple similar events had occurred.  This is especially true considering Jesus’ words in Mark 14:9: “Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” Would Christ have put so much emphasis on this event if it was the second instance of two virtually identical cases?  If this had been done by two different women, surely both would be clearly recorded.

Beyond these facts, we should remember that in John (12:4-5) we are told Judas complained that the perfume used to anoint Jesus was worth 300 denarii and the money could have been given to the poor, but is rebuked by Jesus who tells him to leave the woman alone as she has done a good work.  In Matthew (26:9) and Mark (14:4) we are told that some of the disciples made exactly the same complaint (“300 denarii”) and were rebuked in the same way by Christ. Are we to believe that given identical circumstances, the disciples made exactly the same mistake after Jesus had already rebuked them for it just a few days before?  It is much more reasonable to put the Gospel accounts together and to see that they probably refer, with differing details, to one dinner, one woman, one jar of perfume worth 300 denarii, and one anointing of Jesus.

Regardless of how many women were involved in these Gospel stories, however, they teach lessons that we can apply in our own lives.  The attitude of love they exhibit is one we can all strive to imitate. How?  Just as love was shown to Christ through the gift given for his physical body, we too can give gifts to the Body of Christ, which is his Church (Romans 12:5; 1 Corinthians 12:12–13; Ephesians 3:6, 5:23; Colossians 1:18, 24; etc.).  The lessons of human love and godly forgiveness* that underlie these stories are ones which are indeed, timeless (Mark 14:9).
 
* Our article “Are Simon the Leper and Simon the Pharisee the Same? – and Why it Matters” shows a practical lesson we can all learn from these accounts, here.  
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​“Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!" And having said this he breathed his last” (Luke 23:46 ESV).

“When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, "It is finished," and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit” (John 19:30 ESV).

On the surface, the accounts of Luke and John certainly might seem to be at variance with each other regarding the last words of Jesus, but when we look more closely we find little reason to see any contradiction.

First, we should notice that while Luke specifically says “…having said this he breathed his last,” the wording of John’s Gospel “… and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit” does not necessarily preclude intervening words – it could simply mean that moments or minutes after receiving the wine, Jesus died. 

Note that while Luke focuses specifically on Jesus’ last words – and calls them exactly that – John seems to focus on the sour wine event and its resultant “It is finished” as the final prophecies fulfilled by Christ. This is typical of Luke’s frequent focus on the humanity of Jesus and his actual words, as opposed to John’s focus on Jesus’ fulfillment of prophecies relating to the Messiah and details regarding the message of salvation.

But there is no real reason to think that both accounts were not true.  Jesus’ last words may have been a combination of what John and Luke record: “It is finished. Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”   If these were the actual and full last words of Jesus, then the two Gospel writers simply recorded that part of the expression which was of most importance to their own accounts.

It is also sometimes said that both Luke and John are contradicted by Matthew and Mark, whose Gospels both record Jesus’ expression “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” as his last words.  But both Matthew and Mark write that, soon after this, Jesus gave a loud cry: “And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit” (Matthew 27:50); “With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last” (Mark 15:37).

But these accounts do not say whether the “loud cry” or “loud voice” contained words or not. If the cry contained words, it was doubtless those recorded by Luke and John.  The reason that the other two Gospels say a “voice” or “cry” was probably because they are based on the account of a witness of the crucifixion who was close enough to hear the cry, but not close enough to make out the exact words.  (Both Matthew and Mark agree that many of the witnesses stood “at a distance” from the cross – Matthew 27:55, Mark 15:40).

When we keep both factors in mind: that Luke and John compiled their Gospels stressing different themes, and that Matthew and Mark may well have drawn their information from different witnesses, there is no need to presume any contradiction between the four Gospels as to the last words of Jesus.

By Kevin DeYoung *

Everyone who knows anything about the gospels—and even those who don’t—knows that Jesus was a friend of sinners. He often drew the ire of the scribes and Pharisees for eating with sinners (Luke 15:2). Jesus clearly recognized that one of the insults hurled against him was that he was “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!” (Luke 7:34). As Christians we love to sing of this Pharisaical put-down because it means that Jesus is a friend to sinners like us. We also find ourselves challenged by Jesus’ example to make sure we do not turn away outsiders in a way that Jesus never would.

As precious as this truth is—that Jesus is a friend of sinners—it, like every other precious truth in the Bible, needs to be safeguarded against doctrinal and ethical error. It is all too easy, and amazingly common, for Christians (or non-Christians) to take the general truth that Jesus was a friend of sinners and twist it all out of biblical recognition. So “Jesus ate with sinners” becomes “Jesus loved a good party,” which becomes “Jesus was more interested in showing love than taking sides,” which becomes “Jesus always sided with religious outsiders,” which becomes “Jesus would blow bubbles for violations of the Torah.”

Here we have an example of a whole truth being used for a half truth in the service of a lie. Once, as a younger man in ministry, I made an offhanded comment about how Jesus “hung out with drunks.” I was gently and wisely corrected by an older Christian who had himself overcome alcohol addiction. He challenged me to find anywhere in Scripture where Jesus was just “hanging out” with people in a state of drunkenness. In an effort to accentuate the grace of Christ, I stepped beyond (around, over, and away) from the biblical text and made it sound like Jesus loved nothing more than to yuck it up with John Belushi in Animal House.

If we are to celebrate that the Lord Jesus is a glorious friend of sinners—and we should—we must pay careful attention to the ways in which Jesus actually was a friend to sinners. Omitting the story of the woman caught in adultery (for reasons of textual criticism), I count five main passages in the gospels where Jesus is chastised for getting too close to sinners.
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1. Matthew 9:9-13; Mark 2:13-17; Luke 5:27-32 – This is the story of Jesus calling Matthew the tax collector to be his disciple. We find Jesus reclining at table with many tax collectors and sinners, “for there were many who followed him” (Mark 2:15). When the scribes and Pharisees grumble about the company he keeps, Jesus tells them that he has “not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance” (Luke 5:32).
2. Matthew 11:16-19; Luke 7:31-35 – Here Jesus rebukes the “people of this generation” because they rejected John the Baptist for being too tight and reject the Son of Man for being too loose. It’s from this incident that we get the phrase “friend of sinners.” We should note that it was an insult heaped upon Jesus by his enemies. This doesn’t mean Christ didn’t own it and we shouldn’t sing it, but it suggests he may not have owned it in every way. If Jesus was not a “glutton and drunkard” as his opponents thoughts, so he may not have been “a friend of tax collectors and sinners” in exactly the way they imagined either.
3. Luke 7:36-50 – Right on the heels of this story comes another one like it in Luke. A sinful woman anoints Jesus with expensive ointment and wipes Jesus’ feet with her tears and the hair of her head. When Jesus is corrected for letting this “sinner” touch him, he reminds Simon that those who are forgiven much love much. In the end, Jesus forgives the woman her sin and announces “Your faith has saved you; go in peace” (Luke 7:50).
4. Luke 15:1-2 – The setting for the parables of the lost sheep, lost coin, and lost son of Luke 15 is found in the first two verses of that chapter. As the tax collectors and sinners “were all drawing near” to Jesus, the Pharisees and scribes grumbled that Jesus was receiving them to eat with them. The three parables that follow demonstrate how God seeks out the lost (15:3, 8, 20) and how pleased God is when sinners repent (15:7, 10, 21-24).
5. Luke 19:1-10 – Again, the Jewish leaders grumble because Jesus “has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner” (Luke 19:7) Though Zacchaeus repents and is a changed man (19:8), the Jews simply cannot accept that the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost (19:10) and that this notorious tax collector has been saved (19:9).

​So what lessons can we draw from these episodes? In what way was Jesus a friend of sinners? Did he have a grand strategy for reaching tax collectors? Did he indiscriminately “hang out” with drunks and prostitutes? Was he an easy going live-and-let-live kind of Messiah? What we see from the composite of these passages is that sinners were drawn to Jesus, that Jesus gladly spent time with sinners who were open to his teaching, that Jesus forgave repentant sinners, and that Jesus embraced sinners who believed in him.
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Jesus was a friend of sinners not because he winked at sin, ignored sin, or enjoyed light-hearted revelry with those engaged in immorality. Jesus was a friend of sinners in that he came to save sinners and was very pleased to welcome sinners who were open to the gospel, sorry for their sins, and on their way to putting their faith in Him.

*Republished with permission from The Gospel Coalition website.

The star that appeared to the wise men in the East announcing the birth of Christ and which led them to him (Matthew 2:1-9) shone brightly till its purpose was fulfilled, then it disappeared from view.  In a similar manner, John the Baptist, who was called the “greatest of those born of women” (Matthew 11:11), accomplished a short intense ministry aimed also at announcing and pointing to the Christ, then likewise faded from view.  

The star that heralded Jesus’ birth, bright as it appeared, was to be obscured by the one to whom it pointed – the Messiah himself.  Here we also see a parallel with John the Baptist.  As Christ affirmed, “He was a burning and shining lamp” (John 5:35), but John nevertheless  came only as a witness because “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world” (John 1:8-9). Once Jesus’ ministry began,  John’s  “light” was dimmed by the rising of his successor.  As John himself said using this very analogy, “He must wax, but I must wane” (John 3:30).  But like the heavenly star that also preceded the Messiah’s birth,  John the Baptist’s job was fully accomplished in the short but intense work which God intended for him. Both were powerful witnesses to the coming of the Messiah.

How does this apply to us?  Although we may not live in the age which saw a heavenly light or a great prophetic “light” like John the Baptist pointing to Christ, the apostle Peter reminds us that “We also have the prophetic message as something completely reliable, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts” (2 Peter 1:19).  That “morning star”  is Christ himself (Revelation 22:16); and the “prophetic message” is not so much all of prophecy as it is the prophetic message regarding the meaning and purpose of the coming of Christ.

The star of the nativity, the “lamp” of John the Baptist, and the “light shining in a dark place” were different announcements made available to different groups of people: the first to only a select few, the second to all who heard John, the third to all who come in contact with the word of God throughout the whole world.    The three forms of announcement also increased in the level of understanding they provided those to whom they were given.  Bright as the heavenly star may have appeared, powerful as John’s testimony may have been, we can be thankful that the announcement that has come to us is the fullest, clearest and most profound light of all. ​

​The four Gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John – lie at the very heart of Christianity, recording its most essential teachings and providing us with most of what we know about the person of Jesus Christ, his fulfillments of Old Testament prophecies, his message, and his true identity. Without them the rest of the New Testament would not make any sense, and we would have no idea of the true significance of a great deal of what is written in the Old Testament.  

Yet many Christians do not know why there are four Gospels, exactly how they differ, or what their unique lessons are. This book answers those questions by looking at the “stage,” the “actors,” and the “story” of the Gospels and by providing background and perspective that can greatly increase your understanding of their message. The four Gospels are certainly among the most important books of the Bible. Isn’t it time you got to know them better?  

​Our free new book Inside The Four Gospels is available in formats for computer, e-book reader and smart phone.  Download a copy here.

​“When Jesus … saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Matthew 14:14).

It’s easy to read right over simple verses like this in the New Testament and not notice things.

First, it’s easy to miss what is actually said  – that Jesus didn’t just have compassion on the sick in the multitude, he had compassion on the whole crowd, which led to his intervening wherever there was a need.

That means that Jesus didn’t just see and have compassion on the noticeable members of the crowd – the blind, the lame and those clearly afflicted with diseases and problems. It means he had compassion on the ones who were helping carry the lame, lead the blind and support the weak. It means he had compassion on the ones we might not notice as readily in a crowd – the shy, the grieving, the lonely and the discouraged.

Second, it’s easy – of course – not to see what’s not said.  When we read the accounts of Jesus’ works, we tend to read them in a vacuum; but we have to remember how much the Gospel writers are summarizing each incident.  When Jesus had compassion on the crowds, we get only the highlights of the healings – a kind of Gospel triage in which the most important healings and significant signs were recorded.  But in having compassion on the crowds – not just the sick in the crowds – would Jesus not have noticed people with less obvious problems and had compassion on them also?

Surely Jesus saw the loneliness in the eyes of some and, having compassion, offered them a warm and accepting smile. Surely he saw the discouragement in the faces of others (Luke 18:24) and offered a few words of encouragement.  In every case in the New Testament where we are told Jesus had compassion on people, he followed it with action; and having compassion on the crowds doubtless meant he interacted with and helped many more than the few people on whom he performed miracles of  healing.

Perhaps we may feel we do not interact with crowds in the same way, but the totality of people we see and pass by as well as those we actually meet and with whom we interact in a day is often a small crowd, and for some of us a large one.  If we are followers of Jesus, do we have compassion on that daily “crowd”? Do we seek to encourage and to smile, to check that people are all right?  These may seem like small things and may seem hard to do in our over-crowded and impersonal world.  But following in Christ’s footsteps means doing the things he did to the extent we can. 

We know that God pays attention and knows the hairs on our heads, though we don’t tend to think of that in perspective of the teeming world  of billions in which we live. But God does see every face in the crowd, and in his physical life the Son of God doubtless did his best to do so also.  We are not just a face in the crowd to God, and no one in the crowd should be just a face to us.

Sometimes a little biblical detective work can open new windows into our understanding of the stories of the New Testament.

The Priest

The Gospel of John tells us that when Jesus was betrayed: “.… They bound him and brought him first to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year” (John 18:12-13).  The apostle John apparently knew some of the high priest’s family and was able to provide this detail not found in the other Gospels.

Annas (also called Ananus and Ananias) himself was an interesting character. Serving as High Priest for ten years, from AD 6–15, this man was the patriarch of a dynasty of priests.  Immensely powerful, when he was deposed by the Roman procurator Gratus,  Annas maintained a high degree of power through arranging the appointment of his five sons (Eleazar, Jonathan, Theophilus, Matthias, Ananus) and his son-in-law, Caiaphas, to succeed him.
 
The Jewish High Priest normally served for life (Numbers 35:25, 28), so the rapid-fire changes in succession after Annas suggest that he may have worked to ensure that he kept control of things as the real power behind the temple hierarchy.  This maintaining power while technically deposed would explain why Annas was able to continue as head of the Jewish Sanhedrin (Acts 4:6), and perhaps explains why, when Jesus was arrested, he was first taken not to “Caiaphas, the high priest that year,” but to Annas.  In fact, so real was Annas’ behind-the-scenes power that Luke records the word of God came to John the Baptist “during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas” (Luke 3:2).

The Plot

In his Gospel, the apostle John gives us another bit of information relative to the dealings of the chief priests.   After Jesus raised Lazarus from the grave, John tells us that “… a large crowd of Jews found out that Jesus was there and came, not only because of him but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.  So the chief priests made plans to kill Lazarus as well, for on account of him many of the Jews were going over to Jesus and believing in him” (John 12:9). 

Again, John may have learned this perhaps because of his contacts in the high priestly households; but it is clear that this was a very real plot to get rid of not only Jesus himself, but also Lazarus as evidence of Christ’s miracle.  Although Annas is not mentioned by name, it is inconceivable that such a plot would have been made without the knowledge of the chief priest and his sons – though it was more likely instigated by them as the “chief priests.” To understand the significance of this background, we must look at one of Jesus’ parables given at that time.

The Parable

In his parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man, Jesus told his listeners: “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus …” (Luke 16:19-20).  The parable continues to say that when he died, in the afterlife, the rich man implored the patriarch Abraham “… I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment” (vss. 27-28).

Notice that although the NIV says “to my family,” the Greek actually says “to my father's house” (as translated in the ESV and almost all other versions).  When Abraham replies that  “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them,” the rich man responds “No, father Abraham …but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent” (vss. 9-30).  To this Abraham states conclusively:  “… If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead” (vs. 31).

The cast of characters in this parable are unmistakable.  Although “Lazarus” is not specified to be the Lazarus of Bethany Christ raised from the dead, the New Testament does not speak of any other Lazarus; had it been a different individual, John would surely have identified him as he does in other instances when multiple people shared the same name.

The “rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen” is surely the high priest Caiaphas whose robes were exactly as described. Conclusively, the rich man has a father and five brothers.  In the close families of ancient Palestine, “brothers” could mean blood bothers or brothers-in-law.  So the identity of these individuals is clear – they are none other than Caiaphas (the rich man), Annas (the father) and his five sons (the brothers-in-law).  If this were not the case, there would have been no reason for Jesus to include five brothers in the parable – the rich man could just have pleaded for his family.

For Jesus’ original hearers it was doubtless clear that his parable made the point that just as the rich man’s father and brothers would not believe even after the return of the Lazarus of the parable from the dead, so the actual high priestly family had not believed when the real Lazarus had indeed been raised.   Understood this way, the story of Lazarus and the rich man is paralleled by  a number of other parables in which Jesus used actual historical situations of his day (see our free e-book on the parables for other examples).
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There is also perhaps a small practical lesson we can take from this understanding of Jesus’ parable: the unfailing discretion of Jesus.  Although the characters of his parable may have been recognizable to his audience, Jesus did not go as far as identifying them by name. This fits the pattern we see throughout the New Testament in which Jesus never identifies and condemns individuals by name, only as groups – the Pharisees, scribes, tax collectors, or whatever.  Although he could have publicly accused and discredited specific individuals on many occasions, Christ did not do so in his human life. In our own time – a time of heightened political invective – this is an example for every Christian to consider.

Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!  Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey (Zechariah 9:9).
 
The Gospel of Luke recounts how Jesus fulfilled the words spoken by the prophet Zechariah as he entered Jerusalem in a “triumphal entry” during the climactic week at the end of his ministry (Luke 19:28-44).   Luke tells us how Jesus instructed two of his disciples to go to a nearby home where they would find a young donkey and to bring it to him. He told the disciples that if anyone challenged them, they were to simply say: “The Lord needs it” (Luke 19:31).  The disciples did this – explaining to the donkey’s owners what Jesus had told them.
 
This initial part of the story is interesting in itself.  Jesus was, in effect, invoking the ancient principle of angaria (from a Babylonian word meaning “mounted messenger”) by which kings, rulers and other individuals with official responsibilities could requisition property for official use.  Angaria originated in the earliest postal systems in the ancient Persian, Greek and later Roman cultures where an animal could be “requisitioned” from its owner to carry the mail on the next stage of its multiple-staged journey, somewhat equivalent to the “Pony Express” of the American frontier.  In the Judea of Jesus’ day, under Roman rule, animals could be commandeered in this way for the emperor’s service, and the right was also expanded to include the needs of the king, and even magistrates and rabbis. 
 
A Messenger Received in Joy
 
This incident was, then, the prelude to the actual triumphal entry in which the crowds provided what we would call today a “red carpet” entry for Jesus by covering the road with their capes and the branches of trees to welcome him as he rode on the donkey into the city (Luke 19:35-37).   The scene was not unlike a humbler version of the great Roman “Triumphs” in which the grateful citizens celebrated the procession of heroes who had served the people.  In fact, the similarity with a Roman Triumph is more than  superficial, because the Triumph was a civil and religious ceremony which was held to publicly “celebrate and sanctify” the success of a commander who had led his forces to victory in the service of the people.  

But Jesus rejected the aggrandizing nature of the pagan Triumphs which fed the cult of personalities in Roman and other cultures, and he did this by riding humbly on a young donkey – the antithesis of the great horses of conquering kings and heroes – while fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9 in every detail. Yet Jesus did accept the people’s praise (Luke 19:40), and the details of the story from beginning to end show that a triumphal entry – a symbolic victory celebration – was intended.

The words of the crowds who welcomed Jesus in this triumphal entry are important. Luke tells us (Luke 19:38) that the crowds quoted from the great messianic Psalm 118 – which is why the Pharisees attempted to silence them (Luke 19:39).  This is the same psalm that contains, in vs. 22, the statement so significantly quoted by Jesus in Luke 20:17:  “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”  But also this psalm contains clear references to the triumphal entry of the Messiah:

* I look in triumph on my enemies (Psalm 118:7).
* I will not die but live, and will proclaim what the Lord has done (vs. 17).
* Open for me the gates of the righteous; I will enter and give thanks to the Lord (vs. 19).
* Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. From the house of the Lord we bless you. The Lord is God, and he has made his light shine on us. With boughs in hand, join in the festal procession up to the horns of the altar (vss. 26-27). 
 
Although Luke only cites a few of the words from Psalm 118, the psalm is in fact a full prophetic description of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem.
 
What Was the Victory?
 
But if this was a triumph, what was the victory? Jesus had not yet defeated sin and death on the cross, and he had not yet completed the work he came to accomplish in this regard.  Yet there was one way in which a victory was surely celebrated.  The primary purpose of the angaria, by which Jesus obtained the donkey on which he rode, was to deliver a message. And at this point, at the end of his ministry, Jesus had successfully delivered the news of the kingdom of God to the point that it was now established and would continue to spread throughout the world.  He had also lived the perfect life needed in order that he could give himself as a sacrifice for all humankind.

In that sense, Jesus had fully triumphed in his work when he came to Jerusalem as “... your king who comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9, emphases added). The entry of Jesus into Jerusalem prior to his death was indeed a triumph: it celebrated Jesus’ righteous life and the fact that he had succeeded in delivering the message that he brought into the world.
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There is surely a lesson in this for us. In following Christ as his disciples we do not attempt to mimic everything he did, of course, but we should certainly follow in many of his steps, as he commanded us.  The dual nature of Christ’s fulfilled mission – of living in obedience to God and carrying his message – is a dual opportunity and goal for every one of his followers, also. To focus only on our own obedience or only on the message we were commissioned to carry is not a complete fulfillment of the calling we have been given.  To the extent that we are able, with God’s help, to live lives pleasing to God and to serve him in carrying his message, we too participate in the victory of Jesus. 

The Sermon on the Mount is a central part of the teachings of Jesus that we all know and love – it  demonstrates the essential nature of the Christian way of life as much as any part of Scripture. Many of us have memorized parts of the sermon as found in Matthew’s Gospel (chapters 5-7), but how much time have we spent thinking about the setting of the sermon as opposed to the sermon itself?
 
We tend to take for granted that the sermon was given on a mountain because we know that Jesus frequently climbed mountains (Luke 6:12, John 6:15, etc.) – though he usually did this to get away from people, to be alone and to pray.   In this case we are told he specifically went up on a mountain with his disciples following him.

The New International Version tells us “Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them” (Matthew 5:1-2).  This gives the impression that Jesus simply went up on the side of a mountain – the lower slopes.  But “side” is not in the original Greek (or in most translations), and the Greek anebē  eis to oros  “he went up into a mountain” conveys the sense that he ascended  on to the mountain – certainly well up toward, or to, its summit.
 
Now this wording is interesting, because when we compare it with the Old Testament account of how Moses went up onto Mt. Sinai to receive the law from God, we find “When Moses went up on the mountain …” (Exodus 19:3, 24:12).  In fact, the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures which many of the writers of the New Testament used, translates this with exactly the same words as those used of Jesus ascending the mountain: anebē  eis to oros.

Many Jewish readers of the 1st century would have recognized the beginning of this story of the Sermon on the Mount as being identical to the beginning of the story of Moses receiving God’s law.  This would have struck a deep chord for those readers because every devout Jew knew that God had told Moses:   “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their fellow Israelites, and I will put my words in his mouth. He will tell them everything I command him” (Deuteronomy 18:18). Every devout Jew expected this prophet like Moses, and the similarities between Jesus and Moses were clear for those ancient readers who knew the Hebrew Scriptures. 

For example, the infant Moses and Jesus both escaped death when a ruler attempted to kill the male Jewish children in the area, both hid in Egypt as a child, both gave up  life in a kingly home to lead a humble life of service,  both fasted forty days and nights, both communicated directly with God, both performed miracles, both provided the people with bread to eat, both sent out 12 individuals, both chose 70 individuals, both taught with authority – and both ascended a mountain for the giving of  key commands and instruction from God. 

With that background in mind, we can see the significance of the fact that throughout the first third of the Sermon on the Mount the law of Moses is mentioned repeatedly, using the formula “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago …. But I tell you ….”  For example:

“You have heard that it was said to the people long ago ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment” ​ (Matthew 5:21-22, and see also Matthew 5:27, 31, 38, 43). 

Within the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus made it clear to his followers that he was not doing away with or replacing the principles of the law given through Moses (Matthew 5:17-19). Instead, in this pivotal sermon – the longest connected teaching of Jesus in the New Testament – he gave new insight into God’s spiritual laws, raising our understanding of their intent to the higher level to which we are called.

Three accounts in the New Testament tell us how, on different occasions, Jesus healed individuals in what seem to be very strange ways.

In the first case, near Decapolis Jesus healed a man who was deaf and near-mute by putting his fingers into the man’s ears, then spitting and touching the man’s tongue (Mark 7:31-37). Later, in Bethsaida, he healed a blind man by spitting on the man’s eyes and putting his hands on him (Mark 8:22-26). On another occasion, in Jerusalem Jesus healed a man born blind by spitting on the ground, making mud with the saliva, and putting it on the man’s eyes (John 9:6).

Numerous suggestions have been made to explain why Jesus utilized such strange actions in the course of these healings.  Perhaps the most common explanation is that he was “recreating” the person’s hearing or sight using mud as a symbol of the original creation of man from the “dust of the earth” (Genesis 2:7). This might account for the possible reference to creation made by those who witnessed the miracle recorded in John: “Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind” (John 9:32 ESV).  But this may be no more than an expression (Acts 3:21, etc.), and the idea does not explain the use of saliva alone in the two accounts that do not mention mud. 

Another explanation is that just as he rejected human religious traditions in other cases, Jesus used mud in direct contradiction of Jewish traditions that prohibited healing on the Sabbath by mixing mud with spittle. This idea is based on the fact that the Mishnah specifically states  “To heal a blind man on the Sabbath it is prohibited to inject wine in his eyes. It is also prohibited to make mud with spittle and smear it on his eyes” (Shabbat 108:20), but apart from the fact that, again, only one of the three recorded miracles involved making mud, the Mishnah dates to after the time of Jesus.  It is even possible that the prohibition against healing with mud and spittle came about as a result of Christ’s miracle.

A better understanding of these miracles is gained by considering the evidence we find in the Book of  John.  It is important to remember that John’s Gospel does not simply follow the pattern of the other three Gospels which were written much earlier. Instead, John – who doubtless had seen the other Gospels – went to lengths to supplement their accounts with additional information that he remembered, but which the other Gospels did not include.

Keeping this in mind, it is important to note the context of John’s account. In John chapter 8 the apostle carefully records an extended argument between Jesus and the Jews who opposed him.  Throughout this account we see that Jesus repeatedly stressed his Sonship and relationship with the Father: “Then they asked him, “Where is your father?” “You do not know me or my Father,” Jesus replied. “If you knew me, you would know my Father also”( John 8:19),  “They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father” (John 8:27, etc.).  At one point in this chapter the Jews even made a thinly veiled accusation against Jesus “…We are not illegitimate children…” (John 8:41), and Jesus’ response was to stress, once again, his true Sonship: “… If God were your Father, you would love me, for I have come here from God. I have not come on my own; God sent me … My Father, whom you claim as your God, is the one who glorifies me” (John 8:42, 54).

Now, getting back to the mud and spit miracles, we should note that saliva was widely believed to have healing properties in the ancient world. For example, the classical writers Celsus, Galen, and Pliny all mention its medicinal properties – especially the saliva of distinguished persons – and it is even said that the Emperor Vespasian was urged to spit in the eyes of a blind man in order to heal him.  So it is perhaps not surprising that the Jews of the First Century seem to have had a tradition that the saliva of a legitimate, firstborn heir could have healing properties against several infirmities – including blindness (Talmud, Bava Batra 126b).

So given the widespread beliefs in its medicinal properties, it is possible that Jesus used saliva in some of his healings as a physical sign that he was healing the person involved.  But the background  of  Jesus’ legitimacy and Sonship found throughout John chapter 8 suggests that it was this issue that was the specific context for the healing in John 9 – and perhaps the other, related situations.  By using saliva in these healings, Jesus demonstrated not only his ability to perform miracles, but also that he was indeed a legitimate and firstborn son – the Firstborn Son of God.

​The Book of John tells two stories, back to back, of encounters between Jesus and individuals who came to him  alone.  Rather than being part of the crowds that thronged Jesus daily, these individuals talked with him privately. One sought him out in the dark of night and the other was approached by him under the blazing sun at noon.  The two individuals were the priest Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman Jesus met at the well. The two stories, told in conjunction by John, clearly contrast in a number of ways, but also share something in common.

Nicodemus, a prominent Pharisee and ultra-righteous member of the Jewish Sanhedrin, came to Jesus, John tells us, “by night” (John 3:1-21) in order to question him about his teachings.  Nicodemus was part of the religious establishment of the time, and he clearly went to Jesus under the cover of darkness so as not to be seen and recognized. John’s record of the conversation between Jesus and the Pharisee shows us that Nicodemus  was beginning to believe the truth, but he held back because of the opinions of his friends and colleagues. 

The Samaritan woman Jesus met at the well outside the city of Sychar in Samaria came to draw water around noon (John 4:4-42), which was the hottest time of day when the fewest people would be at the well. It is unlikely that anyone would purposely plan a trip to the well at that time unless they wanted to avoid people.  But, as someone doubtless shunned or shamed by her neighbors because of her sexual relations with a number of men, the Samaritan woman had good reason to go to the well at a time when she would not meet others. She doubtless went then because of her discomfort with her neighbors’ opinion of her.

The two individuals were worlds apart.  Nicodemus was a respected member of the privileged religious elite in the Judean capital of Jerusalem; the Samaritan woman was a shamed individual from a despised culture in a rustic backwater of the country. Spiritually, Nicodemus may have needed help to see his sin and the Samaritan woman may have needed help to see her worth,  but both individuals shared something in common – they both evidently feared the opinions of others and sought to avoid those who might look down on them.

It is unlikely that John juxtaposed his accounts of these individuals in the way he did without intending his readers to see the connection of fear implied in both stories. Whatever our background, whatever our own perception of our standing before God, we may adjust our behavior in order to cope with our inherent human fear of the opinions of others.  But after meeting with the one they came to see was probably the Messiah, both individuals found the courage to act without shame and without cover.
 
Nicodemus later spoke with courage to remind his colleagues in the Sanhedrin that a person should be heard before being judged (John 7:50–51), and then, after the crucifixion, he helped to prepare the body of the reviled and executed Jesus for burial (John 19:39–42).  In the same way, after meeting Jesus, the Samaritan woman – if she had been avoiding her neighbors – now found the courage to tell them all about the one she had met who was the Christ.

We may not be like Nicodemus or like the Samaritan woman. Perhaps our lives are being lived out somewhere between those of the two individuals, the saint and the serial sinner.  But like them, if we have met with Jesus in our lives, we will be strengthened to live above the opinions of others when it comes to living out the truth.

Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe  and went up to him again and again, saying,  “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face (John 19:1-3).

In these words, John summarizes the beginnings of the crucifixion of Jesus. Matthew, in his Gospel, adds the detail that the Roman soldiers also put a staff in his right hand (Matthew 27:29), which clearly imitated the emperor’s scepter, just as the purple robe and crown of thorns also imitated the emperor’s other attributes.  

The mockery of the soldiers is clear. Charged as “King of the Jews” (Matthew 27:37), and hence as someone attempting to take the place of the emperor, the imperial attributes of robe, scepter and crown were intended as a cruel, insulting joke.  But the mocking soldiers were doubtless unaware of how richly symbolic their parody actually was.   The crown of thorns given to Jesus was  doubtless intended as a parody of the Roman Civic Crown  given to military heroes. Like the crown of thorns, the Roman Civic Crown (Latin: corona civica) was formed of plant material: of leaves of the oak tree woven into a circle.  But the Civic Crown was granted only to  Roman citizens who saved the lives of other citizens.  So high was the honor of this crown that it became part of the  imperial regalia and was worn by all the emperors from the time of Augustus, and the emperors themselves were often hailed as the  “Savior” of the people.

Ironic or not, the richness of the symbolism that God allowed in the crown of thorns also finds much earlier foreshadowing in the Bible itself.  Not only does the biblical story of humanity’s “fall” tell us that as a result of sin the earth would produce “thorns and thistles” (Genesis 3:17-19), but also the crown of thorns is more specifically foreshadowed in the story of Abraham’s sacrifice of his son, Isaac. Genesis 22:13 tells us that the sacrifice of Isaac was transferred to the sacrifice of the male sheep God provided, that was caught by its horns in a “thicket.”  The Hebrew word used for thicket is sebak, derived from a word meaning to entwine in the sense of interwoven branches.  This was perhaps the Palestine Buckthorn (Rhamnus lycioides or Rhamnus palaestinus), a bush or small thorn tree which grows on hillsides in much of Israel.  Its botanical name Rhamnus refers to its intertwined, prickly branches.  The ram “caught by the horns” in such a tree was thus essentially a sacrificial sheep with thorns intertwined around its head, and the ram became a substitutionary sacrifice for Isaac, just as Jesus became a substitutionary sacrifice for everyone. 

So the crown of thorns given to the Messiah and intended as a cruel parody to mock him was, in fact, a fitting symbol for the One who took upon himself the thorny result of our human sin, who willingly acted as a substitutionary sacrifice for all, and whose bravery infinitely eclipsed that of heroes who may have saved others (Romans 5:7). It may have been intended as a parody, but no one else ever qualified to receive such an exalted crown as the one made of thorns worn by Jesus.