Krissi

I wonder what percentage of the priests and scribes were able to trace their lineage to David -- it was probably very low. So to hear Jesus, a man of a background not lauded by the or accepted by society's elitists and experts, described by others as the "Son of David" meant that Jesus had done an end-run around the prescribed ways of gaining cultural prestige and social/political authority. I've seen something this happen in the academy/universities when a person who has received his terminal degree from a state college or a populist institution writes something that's so brilliant that even these Ivy sorts are forced to begrudgingly admit an outsider's brilliance. They will never accept him, however. To them, the possibility of a person rising through other channels and surpassing their own academic "achievements" is both anathema and unacceptable. The title signifies inheritance, being chosen by God.

I'm not sure that most people know what satisfies them "deep down." They may think they know, but they don't. Sometimes even Christians pray for things they think will bring them great joy, but God denies them the answer to their prayer, perhaps because He knows it would be destructive in the end. It's not always easy knowing what's right and best. Often, things that may seem good in themselves -- success, abundance, love -- are denied us so that we pursue things and ideals of greater goodness. Again, as Christians the love of pleasure, if you call it that, may be only the cessation of pain and suffering. For some of us, suffering lasts until death. To pray for the end of suffering is not hedonism, though it could be a preference/love of pleasure. The poor are able to have what they need -- milk and wine -- without paying for it, in this promise. Those who work hard will find their money stretches to cover their needs. God is generous. The result of the invitation to eat freely and work productively is being satisfied, with a soul that delights in whatever God gives. Obviously, many seculars don't believe this free invitation will be truly satisfying or "good news." The secular person is required to listen (presumably giving up his point of view and desires) and come to Jesus. Then, after a person gives up everything for Jesus, Jesus promises that their soul may live. Perhaps they're afraid Jesus won't keep his end of the bargain? Perhaps they don't believe the exchange is possible in the first place?

Peter clearly said that he believed the promised and expected Messiah was, in actuality, Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God. The Holy Spirit revealed this to Peter. It is possible, though not likely, that Peter arrived at this conclusion rationally, in line with the Messianic expectations of that time, but it's such an outstanding claim that it seems (to me, anyway) that it's more likely that Peter was inspired to speak those words. His understanding of what he was saying, though, must have been limited. Jesus preferred to be called the Son of Man, which Pastor Ralph says is an ambiguous term. I'm not sure why Jesus didn't just say He was also the Son of God. The timing wasn't right or misunderstandings would result are the two explanations generally given. So, Jesus' status as God's son, the Messiah or even as God Himself, were essentially secrets entrusted to His disciples and a small group of associates.

This was a prophecy written for a particular group of people at a particular time. I do not believe this prophecy is applicable to my own life ... nor is any prophecy written long ago that obviously was written with a "literal" Israel in view. I desperately wish promises to other people were promises to me, but do not believe that what God said to someone/s a long time ago can be "claimed" as a prophecy for myself. Many, many Christians have been martyred -- weapons forged against those Christians prevailed. I suppose you could say that a Christian has eternal life therefore nothing that happens on earth really matters including his/her death, which would be true, but the promise has to do with events occurring in life, about real battles against real people in real time. In this life should I expect God to save me from those who are against me? Should I expect weapons forged against me to be ineffective? No. Sometimes God saves -- this is His prerogative. Sometimes He lets us die -- this, too, is His prerogative. To us, it's a mystery why some Christians are felled in battle and others escape alive. Only God knows. He numbers our days. Someday, perhaps, God may explain His dealings with us ... or not. This has nothing to do with spiritual warfare, but with expecting long-ago prophecies to turn into contemporary promises. There's always an excuse, a way of explaining God's inactivity when the promise doesn't "turn true." When God doesn't respond as we expected, when good Christians are felled in battle, somehow it's our fault, that our faith didn't rise to the level God demanded, or that we "misheard" God in some way. But maybe, it wasn't a promise to begin with? Maybe it was a prophecy for then, not now? Maybe there are some prophecies that don't have anything to do with people generations removed from their recipients? Sometimes it's just warfare, not spiritual warfare. -- I am writing as the Western war against Russia is raging in the Ukraine. I have seen interviews of Ukrainian soldiers crying at the senseless loss of of their friend's lives -- I have seen, too, pious Russian soldiers making makeshift churches and shrines where they battle. Individuals on both sides are invoking God's protection. And, Christians on both sides of this proxy war between the West and the global South, after begging God for protection, are dying. -- "Ours not to make reply,Ours not to reason why,Ours but to do and die."

The branches emerging from coppiced trees (trees that have been cut down to a stump) are long and straight, often used as fence posts. Some trees, then, rather than dying, are energized after being reduced to a stump. Chestnut trees are coppiced in Europe for fence posts. Thus, my fav verse is this: "A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse, from his roots a branch will bear fruit."

In a society that judged women on her ability to bear a large number of children, particularly sons, barrenness was not only seen a personal and familial failure, but as a sign of God's disfavor and rejection. Not being able to have children, then, had a moral undertone. The barren woman was thought to be barren because her own immoral behaviour; barrenness was God's judgement. In these passages, Israel was the woman disfavored by God because "she" had turned away from Him and therefore made barren. For "your Maker" to be "your husband" meant God dominated Israel like a man demands his wife's submission. Since Israelite men were able to totally dominate and destroy their wives at whim, God was portrayed as a powerful "man" who had dominated and (for awhile) destroyed Israel. At some point God chose to forgive the Israelites. The prophet said that despite the suffering and punishment the Israelites experienced, God still loved them and with "deep compassion" restored them to a prosperous and peaceful life in Jerusalem. But the people He restored were not the ones who originally sinned -- after two or three generations, its unlikely many Israelites had survived who had been old enough to know what was happening when they were taken into captivity. So, God was actually being compassionate toward the children and grandchildren of those who had abandoned Him, not toward those who had originally sinned against Him. The wife, whose role is subsidiary, can only accept (with gratitude) her Husband's willingness to restore her to His good graces. She has no agency or ability to chart the course of her life. Her role is passive -- to be loyal and faithful to her husband as He determines her fate. The wife is the church -- Husband is God.

Jesus' Spirit is in us as well as outside of us, therefore He alone can mediate between our true inner nature and His perfection as God. I understand the desire for a mediator beside Jesus, the need to concretize a very abstract relationship and make it more easily understandable, but this is not necessary and is, in fact, contrary to true faith. Jesus is my advocate just as a lawyer advocates for a guilty party or a diplomat tries to reach agreement between two parties with nothing in common. I am not a direct advocate for the poor and powerless. I care for my mostly blind, very elderly father, watching over him as he dies -- perhaps this is being an advocate?

I can imagine not being sure of the outcome of a battle, or of God's words about a particular situation, and then seeing in a distance, the figure of a skinny, long-distance runner broaching a hill with a parchment in his hands -- that parchment tells the news I've been waiting for. It's like an email that finally arrives: Remember AOL? "You've got mail!" I was assuming that the runner/email brings good news so wanted to get it. -- Paul talks about the beautiful feet of the messenger or runner but then he immediately follows this by saying that many people did not believe the good news when it finally game. They heard, but did not believe. Yet some did believe. "I was found by those who did not seek me ... revealed ... to those who did not ask for me." God continually holds out the good news for disobedient and obstinate people, perhaps knowing that a few of them will be saved.

I used to be dismayed at what I thought was the Roman Catholic emphasis on the suffering of Jesus, Via Dolorasa, etc., but now I understand, perhaps too well, that suffering, sorrow, pain and hopelessness are part of a Christian life. We tend to idealize Christians who are at the top of their game ... we want to think that God answers prayers intimately and deeply, in a satisfying manner, that He leads us to success and happiness, contentment and joy. Yet, in reality, God doesn't always answer prayer in short order nor does He want our joy. He often ignore our pleading for an end to pain. It could be the case that suffering is His sovereign will, the unwanted answer to our prayers. God is sovereign. He is over all. He is all-powerful. What happens to us occurs under His watchful eye. He knows and knew what has happened to us ... yet let our suffering continue. I have found that the key to dealing with sorrow is to accept it as God's will. I accept, mostly, the idea that God put suffering in my life -- He could have chosen differently, after all. I no longer expect my life to be joy-filled, nor do I believe that suffering is Satanic or occasional. Joy is the exception, not suffering.

I'm in this situation now -- needing His guidance because the paths forward are occluded and horrible. Yes, I am afraid. I've staked everything I have and am on following Him and so far, to be honest, it's been getting worse. Rationally, I don't see a way out of this situation, one that preserves the integrity of my faith in Him. In situations like this, I wonder if there really is a clear-cut dichotomy between submitting and waiting for Him to act or make His will known, and doing something to extricate myself from a miserable situation. Does He expect us to use our minds ... does His Spirit infuse our thinking so that as we reason our way out of a situation we do His will? There's a fine line, in my experience, between waiting on the Lord to work in a situation and stepping out gingerly in faith. If stepping forward is the same as "creating light" as Pastor Ralph words it in His question, then perhaps moving toward the light like a moth is not always wrong. This would not a brazen substitute for God's will, but a tentative stepping forward while expecting Him to correct the path and inspire the direction and motive. It's seeking His will in motion, not at a standstill. My danger is impatience, of panicking at the last moment and just doing something -- anything ! -- that relieves the pain and ends the stalemate. That would not be stepping out in faith, but would represent a lack of faith in His guidance and provision. While in this situation, it's difficult to discern one's own motivations, weaknesses, faith and intentions. --

I wonder if prophets always understand what they're prophesying; if Daniel understood what he was saying when he used the phrase, "Son of Man." Pastor Ralph mentioned the large number of times that Jesus referred to Himself as the Son of Man. It's amazing, really, that Jesus would pluck from Daniel's prophecies an obscure phrase to apply to Himself. And yet Jesus consistently thought of Himself as the Son of Man. What this phrase meant to Him, we'll never fully know, but it's obvious that Jesus considered Himself preeminent among men as well as fully God.

I’m not sure to whom Isaiah is exclusively talking. The characters in these prophecies seem to switch from contemporary or near-future figures to long-distant figures … it’s difficult to know if Isaiah is talking about the people who surrounded him, people a few generations removed from him, people at the time of Christ or people living in the end times. Reading back, we know to whom he speaks -- at least in part -- the Messiah. He's talking about Jesus. But the people who heard the original prophecy probably did not connect these dots. Additionally, Isaiah's prophecies seem to be intended for different groups at different times in history. Perhaps Isaiah is talking to the people living around and at the same time as Isaiah; and simultaneously talking about Christ in their far-future. Isaiah is open to the Lord. The Messiah was vindicated, in part, at His resurrection. He defied death which rendered suffering moot. In part, too, the Messiah has not yet been fully vindicated. This will happen when He finally rules over all in the end times. The phrase, "set my face like flint" is used, I believe, in secular literature -- Shakespeare? I know that my very secular, atheistic father used to tell me to set my face like flint when he thought I needed to be determined and focused. The phrase was used to describe positive character traits, persistence and prevailing determination. When vindication is delayed, rather than take things into my own hands and exact vengeance, I was told to bear it in silence, to set my face like flint. In the vernacular, "grin and bear it."

"Son of man," as used by Jesus, seems to point in two directions. First, it describes Jesus' humanity, that he is both "God from God," as we chant in the Nicene creed, and "was made man." In other words, the phrase has to do with Jesus' humanity. Second, it describes Jesus' non-human traits such as his heavenly origin, but does so in a way that the people who heard him say this could not comprehend. This is similar to speaking in parables, which hint but do not explicitly say their meaning. He took a misunderstood or obscure phrase and gave it new meaning in Himself as He hid that meaning from those who would turn it against Him. The phrase refers to God's rule, like an omnipotent king, over all humanity. The Son of Man would be that king. He had all authority, all power, universal worship and transcends time. The fact that Jesus so frequently used a rather obscure phrase to describe Himself suggests the meaning of that phrase was somehow significant to Him. He was claiming, for Himself, unlimited power and authority in the future. Also, the fact that this was Jesus' last self-identifying phrase used before his death and resurrection shows that the "son of man" is highly important to understand His nature and message.

Preferring a particular group of people, the Jews, seems to go against the loving, universalistic message of the Bible which is that God's grace has expanded to embrace all people. That's the good news, that he died for ALL of us. Paul was the first to grasp this, yet was still encumbered by his past Jewishness. His focus was on his own people until widened by the Spirit Himself so that he thought in terms of ALL people. God loves ALL people. His Son died for all people.

As a Westerner, I spend the majority of my time in the United States and several months a year in Europe to work. In both places, there are no "cultural truths" except political shibboleths which substitute for Bibical truisms. Western societies which were once distinctly Christian are now indistinctly secular. So, the "wisdom" we receive from our societies isn't wise at all; it is best to ignore whatever the political and social pundits hawk on the television or in schools, government offices or on social media. There's an eternality and rock-solidity to Jesus' truth that stands in utter contrast to the ephemeral and shape-shifting values of Western society. Today, Western society is toxic -- Christ is the antidote. For many years, now, I have been unplugged from all mainstream news and most social groupings. This was one of the best decisions I have made in my life. I do not have a television. I do not shop in malls or places of commerce but buy online to avoid the pressured material experience. I am not active in local politics anymore. When I had children -- they are in their twenties, now -- I homeschooled. I live simply, with more purity. The goal, as I see it, is to unplug from as much of secular society as possible while remaining highly active in the very limited spheres of society in which I can have influence. My limited spheres happen to be political. After unplugging, I have found it much easier to spend time in the Word, pray and think about how Christianity actually relates, or should related, to the cultures in which it thrives. I can serve Him better, even in highly social venues, after I disengaged from the constant onrush of "propaganda."

Every society has an ethos, a set of values and expectations that allow society to cohere and become "a people." When aliens come to a land while denying the ethos of those who live in their homeland, their presence weakens the social fabric that had once allowed that particular society to cohere and function smoothly. We must love those who could be aliens by helping them maintain and stay in their own homeland. We must help them not be aliens, which is incredibly difficult and painful, but residents in their own homelands. In this way we can be light and salt. Generosity to others in their homelands is the cure for political and material alienation. But more than material goods, they need to hear the gospel. We must send missionaries and other people to lands which may tear apart and create an exodus of aliens. They need to hear the good news. The good news isn't entering in a country that's considered more prosperous than one's own -- the good news is salvation from sin, not poverty. God promises to meet our daily needs. He doesn't promise that we'll be as wealthy as our neighbors and specifically condemns envy and dishonest behavior.

The idea of witnessing is connected to the idea of telling the truth. For this reason, Jesus was "faithful" in the sense that He not only witnessed, but witnessed truthfully. He was both true and obedient "witnesser." He was true to the Word He had been created to bring. I try very hard, even here, to be honest about what I don't understand as well as that which I may understand, though only through a glass darkly. I'm struggling now over the idea of being less tentative and honest to people who will misinterpret my hesitance or doubt. In my life, I am a struggling but faithful witness almost all of the time. I speak when opportunities arise and I think they are of Him. I try to be silent the rest of the time. If I improved as a witness, I would be more silent. My troubles begin when I speak, not when I do not speak.

To say God is not the source of evil, but merely He allows it, seems to be a sleight-of-hand. Satan was one of God’s angels. He fell. What really happened, I don’t know. It seems a story that explains evil by suggesting that evil must have existed in some form for Satan to have succumbed to it. Thus, I do not think God exists in an evil-void, but actively subdues and bears down on it. Perhaps, because I have suffered so much – mostly, after committing my life to Him – that I believe God doesn’t just use evil, or permit it, but is the source of both evil and good. In fact, it’s goodness that has to be explained, not evil. That Christians can experience His goodness is amazing – that we experience His pain is sadly expected. It is the existence of goodness I need to explain, not evil. Evil is the default mode of the world. The fact that joy, love and gentleness can poke through evil, on occasion, is proof of God’s benevolence. God is all, over all, under all, and in all. There is no other. He is, over, under and in evil as well as good. Thus, He authors both goodness and malevolence, prosperity and poverty, health and illness, joy and grief. He is a great and powerful God and I am grateful for the goodness I do have in life.

The mystery of how Jesus is both a man and God is "beyond my paygrade." Somehow, He is both. He both speaks God's words and is God ... as a man. He is both the speaker and the spoken words. Somehow His words become Him. He is the word of life, the word of God. The words and the essence or persons of God are thus conflated. -- The implications of this, to the degree I understand it, are mindboggling. To hear the word is to have God. To internalize His word is to internalize Him.

This is God's sovereignty. He is over all, a fact I find intensely comforting. He uses secular people to accomplish His will just as He uses believers. In a sense, we are pawns in His hands -- we don't know when and how we are being used, or for what higher purpose. Cyrus, like all secular leaders as well as leaders of other faiths, has been chosen by God to do his part in the rebuilding of Judah even though he "did not acknowledge (God)".

I have no difficulty thinking of Jesus as my Rabbi/teacher. This is our primary relationship, in fact. I start out every day with an hour or two of study -- Jesus Himself bookends my days at the beginning and end. I study His word and read the words of wise men and women, usually 19th century pietists. Then I write out my prayers, honestly and openly expressing doubt, concern and need. Intercessory prayer has been a growing part of this time. I think I'm teachable because I can look back and see how I've been taught and have learned. When I fail ... He picks me up, dusts me off, and sets me on my feet. When I doubt, He is patient. Sanctification is a process, not a moment, and this process is happening within me.

I feel out of synch with the majority of people on this thread. This section tells us that we are created to worship God, to “proclaim (His) praise.” Praising Him is part of witnessing to unbelievers. We are also created to serve one another, to love others, to make converts, etc. This is one slice of our purpose on earth. I have a difficult time praising God. My praise can be stilted and sometimes insincere. The problem is I cannot intellectually square evil and suffering with a good and gracious God. I’m stuck on the fact that God led the Israelites into slavery because of their bad behaviour and then redeemed them from it after they reformed. He wanted them to suffer. This was His will. His choice. True, they must have felt grateful that their suffering had finally ended and they would both be redeemed and have their sins blotted out. That gratefulness turned to praise makes sense in this context. But … God had created and engineered their suffering in the first place. The Israelites must have connected their plight, not only with their behavior, but with God’s wrath toward them. So this is my obstacle: I find it difficult to praise a God whose heavy hand of judgment may slap me down when my behaviour or thoughts so angers him that he causes me to suffer. I do think praise is beneficial for the soul. To the degree that this is God’s purpose for us, praising Him and genuinely believing it, without worrying He would punish us at any moment, should be very, very gratifying.

I was just given power of attorney over my father's finances and health, so this question is deeply personal for me. As he dies, I use his name to pay his bills and give him the comfort he needs. He is an atheist. Stridently so. Thus, my POA means I can make godly decisions for him and in spite of him. I have seen Jesus' name be invoked in charismatic settings and have to admit it made me both squeamish and troubled. It felt disrespectful. Perhaps manipulative. I will never invoke His name unless I am absolutely certain that something needs to be done, when His will in a situation is crystal clear. Unfortunately, this sort of clarity regarding His will is rare in me. I have never heard His voice so I can't speak to the question that includes this experience. I would like to hear His voice. I would like clear guidance and direction. I'm afraid to speak in Jesus' name because of the high potential for making a mistake. Again, I have heard people boldly (recklessly) use his name to heal or to invoke change in another person's personal life, and frankly, I don't think it was effective. This is akin to using Jesus' name as a talisman, a charm that forces nature to bend. It borders on the demonic, at times -- or, at least, the egotistical. Who is so sure of God's will that he/she invokes God's name like this? In public meetings, I've seen His name invoked many times in one evening. Can this truly be of Him? I doubt.

The Israelites are "blind" because they can't hear the messenger or see what God is doing around and in them. I don't know why they are blind. Their eyes haven't been touched by the Spirit, I suppose. In the last five years, my life has been transformed. Still, I don't clearly hear God's directives or accurately see Him leading me. I stumble around in life trying to make the best decisions possible somewhat blindly, though I know the Spirit is in me. I have never heard his audible voice. I have never had an amazing "sighting" like a burning bush. My circumstances are ambiguous. The nudges I get from Him are subtle and easy to misinterpret. Thus, I'm not blind but my vision needs much more focus. If effectiveness is measured in leading people to the Lord, I have been effective. But I still think that's the Spirit's work, not mine. If effectiveness is measured in service to an old man (my father) and learning to love him in spite of the fact we have never had a relationship, then I have been effective. The toll of faith in Christ has been expensive, however: the things I love to do but can't do now ... the skills I have left on the wayside, the abilities left untouched ... the potential unrealized. I pray to escape this small realm of "effectiveness" and move on to where I should/want/can be. In short, I am not effective.

Sorrow comes in waves, breaking over me and then receding. I have learned to accept each wave as it comes, praying to be spared but enduring, if I must, as did Job. I know, now, that this current wave of sorrow will also end either in this life or the next. I draw comfort from the horrifying book of Job because suffering and sorrow are seen as a meaningful mystery -- meaningful to God, mysterious to Job. I don't believe I'll ever understand the meaning of sorrow, suffering ... evil. This is for Him to know, not me. So, sorrow is to be endured. It's to be waited out. When it ends, it ends. After each wave of sorrow, I'm a bit closer to Him. But after each wave of suffering, I also learn something that deepens my faith, that draws me closer to Him. That's the superficial meaning of sorrow, that it exists as a tool of sanctification, to bring us still closer to being like Christ.