Month: December 2025

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Lessons from the Wisemen

title slide with photo of the two churches at Christmas

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
December 28, 2025
Matthew 2:1-12

Sermon recorded at Mayberry Church on Saturday, December 27, 2025

At the beginning of worship:

There has often been speculation about a fourth wiseman. Gary Larson’s “Far Side,” depicted him rejected at the manger because of his gift, a fruitcake. I happen to like a good fruitcake, so I don’t think that’s as funny as others. 

Henry van Dyke wrote a short story about a fourth wise man.[1]Artaban, like the other three wisemen, saw a star in the east. He, too, collected gifts, his being gems and pearls, and set out to meet the other wisemen for the journey to find the newborn king. Artaban’s compassion caused him to become sidetracked, which resulted in a longer journey. He barely began his trip when he came across a sick man. Unable to leave him in the road to die, he cared for him and then gave him a sapphire so he could buy medicine and care for himself. The other three are now way ahead of Artaban, but he continues. 

He arrives in Bethlehem around the time of Herod’s killing the innocent boys. He uses another precious stone to bribe the soldiers not to go into a home where a young boy lives. Artaban wonders if he’ll have any presents left when he reaches Jesus. He continues searching and helping those in need. He goes to Egypt as Jesus and his family heads to Nazareth. Artaban keeps looking for Jesus but is always too late. He searches for 33 years. 

Finally, he’s in Jerusalem. Jesus has been led out to Calvary, but even here he stops to help others. He pays the ramson for a slave. Now penniless, he feels he failed, only to meet the risen Christ, who thanks him for his kindness. “What you did for the least of these, you did to me,” Jesus said. Artaban achieved his goal without knowing it. 

Before the reading of Scripture:

As I’ve been doing since Advent, I’m following Matthew’s gospel.[2] Last Sunday, we heard Matthew’s rather brief reporting on Jesus’ birth. Now, we learn of those who are drawn to Jesus. Luke, in the passage we listened to on Christmas Eve, points to the shepherds. Matthew tells us of the coming of the wisemen. This passage, which brings foreigners to the baby Jesus, foreshadows the ending of Matthew’s gospel where Jesus sends the disciples with his message out to the ends of the earth. 

In his mammoth work, The Birth of the Messiah, the late Raymond Brown, a Roman Catholic New Testament scholar, tells about how after the Protestant Reformation, the Roman Church continued to lift up the tradition of the Magi while we in Protestant Churches focused more on the Shepherds.[3] While an interesting thought, we should remember Scriptures give equal weight to the shepherds and magi. Both are unlikely candidates to celebrate the birth of a King, just like Mary and Joseph, poor Jewish folk, are unlikely candidates to be the parents of Jesus. God works in mysterious ways.   

Read Matthew 2:1-12

There are several angles I could take to point out the truths contained in the story of the wise men. Let me highlight three and suggest how they apply to our lives:

1. The wise men make it a priority to seek out Jesus.

2. Finding Jesus, they respond giving gifts of thanksgiving, without expecting of anything in return. 

3. Having encountered Jesus, they know their loyalty is to a higher power and ignore the demands of King Herod.

Let’s look at each one. We don’t know why the wise men choose to follow a particular star. We don’t even know who these guys are. It’s generally assumed they’re from Persian. Some scholars suggest Zoroastrian priests who spent time studying the stars. God placed that star, or the conjunction of planets, or an unfamiliar comet, or a supernova, or whatever it was into the skies to catch their attention and to draw them to Judea.[4]

It’s obvious they are not Jewish; otherwise, they’d know to head to Bethlehem. But whoever they are, they knew something’s up and feel obliged to check it out. This meant taking a long journey to a distant land. It’s important to find Jesus, so they take the risk to seek him. 

Finding Jesus should be that important to us. Responding to Jesus’ call is the most important decision we will make. It should over-ride all our wants and desires. When we decide to seek Jesus out, like the wise men, we’re called on a journey of which we have little control. We’re no longer our own; we belong to our Lord.   

What might we learn from the wisemen’s search? They first head to Jerusalem, the holy city, a place of excitement. Herod’s palace and the temple are there. Pious people pack the street, carrying out the work of the temple. Pilgrims trek there to worship. 

It seems natural to assume Jerusalem would be the place for the birth of a king. But that’s not where they find Jesus! Instead, they’re led to a small dumpy town, five miles away. A poor suburb, inhabited with shepherds and goat herders, supplying meat and animals for the appetites and sacrifices of those in the capital. Flashy isn’t one of God’s traits. God humbled himself by coming to us as Jesus. We often find Jesus, in humble circumstances. To encounter Jesus, we must be humble. Being splashy or hanging out with the popular crowd isn’t a guarantee of Jesus’ presence. Jesus comes to those who humbly admit their needs for a Lord and Savior over their lives.

Now about giving. One of the most important lessons for a Christian to learn is that giving is as much a blessing as it is an obligation. And it’s not just giving money, although the Scriptures are clear the faithful should regularly give our resources for God’s work in the world. But we are also called to be generous with our time and abilities, helping not only the church but also one another. We feel good about ourselves when we give, especially when we give without expecting anything in return. 

Furthermore, when someone does something nice for us, we feel compelled to respond. We may do this simply by saying “thank you” or we may go out of our way to do something nice for the other person. We should also teach our children to be gracious. It’s an important trait for nothing is sadder than someone who is unable to give or acknowledge what someone did for them.

The story of the three wise men shows the importance of giving without being asked and without expecting anything in return. Think about it. A group of foreigners present gifts to a child they don’t know. 

Now let’s now examine our story closely: Contrary to the popular carol and the ubiquitous nativity scenes, we don’t know for sure that there were only three wisemen. Instead, we’re told that they were three gifts and so it’s natural to think of three bearers of the gifts, but they may have been more, that fourth wiseman suggested by Gary Larson and Henry van Dyke. 

Over the years a lot has been made about the three gifts. We naturally associate gold with kings. Fragrant substances, often imported from distant lands, seem fitting for royalty. Myrrh, used in the anointing oil for a priest, aligns with the Messiah, the “anointed one.” Frankincense, used with prayers in the temple, may imply Matthew saw the gift foretelling a time when the baby Jesus would be worshipped as God. However, this is speculation. The gifts may have just been those considered worthy of a King.[5]

The wise men know they need to worship something greater than themselves. They need to worship God who considers us so precious that he comes in the flesh. In coming, they fulfilled the passage from Isaiah, about the light of Israel arising and the nations and kings coming to see the glory. In fact, from the Isaiah passage, we get the transformation of the wise men into kings.[6]

In the Old Testament, light often symbolizes the presence of the Lord and salvation. Israel was to be a light to the nations because she had a special relationship with God. The coming of God in Jesus Christ fulfilled Israel’s ability to be that light to all people. The foreign Magi heralded the fulfillment of this prophecy by being the first to worship Jesus.

There is a saying that God cannot pour his blessings into a tight fist.[7] The wise men were able to be blessed because they came with open hands. But Herod, and the people of Jerusalem, afraid of this thing happening in Bethlehem, were tight fisted. And they missed the glory of Bethlehem.

The wise men express love to the baby Jesus. It was a gamble to go into a foreign land and search out a new king not born in the palace. They take their chances and are remembered today. At the same time, Herod and those in Jerusalem also had a chance to worship the newborn Messiah. But concerned with what they might lose, they lose the opportunity to worship God in the flesh. We remember them, but not for the same reasons. The wise men, who made gifts without expecting anything in return, remind us of our calling as Christians. We’ve been given a great gift. In return, and without expectations, we’re to be generous.   

Finally, consider the loyalty of the wise men to a higher authority. Tying the story of Herod together with the wise men provides us with a counterplot. We’re reminded that even though the Messiah has come, evil remains a seductive threat in the world. Herod’s false humility almost thwarts God’s plan as the wise men, at first, appear to believe his sincerity. The threat of evil is genuine. We can easily find ourselves looking for a Savior in all the wrong places.

Evil has as much power as we give it. Hitler would have never been able to take over Germany and do what he did without the support of others. Nor would any of the other horrific giants in history. They started as wolves in sheep clothing and because not enough people spoke up, soon enough, they carried out their reign of terror.

Of course, God’s Spirit helps the wise men discern Herod’s true intentions. The Magi find the child in Bethlehem, worship and give him gifts. When they leave, they take the bypass around Jerusalem. They remind us that our loyalty is first and foremost to God.[8] Although as Christians, we’re called to obey those in authority, our allegiance has limits. Our commitment to God always comes first.  

Three things to take home and ponder: Seek Jesus, give graciously, and remember that our loyalty to God trumps all human allegiances. Amen.

[1] William White, Stories for the Journey (Minneapolis Augsburg, 1988), 110-114.

[2] This is one of the areas the lectionary drives me crazy. It places the flight into Egypt and the killing of the innocent children around Bethlehem this week and the coming of the wisemen on Epiphany, to fall into the 12 days of Christmas. I prefer to preach continually through a passage (Lectio Continua) and so I’m following the Matthew passage on the birth which runs from Matthew 1:18 through chapter 2.  

[3] Raymond Brown, The Birth of the Messiah (New York: Doubleday, 1993), 197-198.

[4] Raymond Brown, 167-173, goes into detail about the origin of the wise men and the star.

[5] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation Commentary (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1993), 14.

[6] See Isaiah 6:1-6 (especially verse 3).  Also see Psalm 72:10-11.  Brown, 187-188, has a detailed account on how the wise men or Magi were transformed into “kings.” 

[7] John Guest, Beating Mediocrity: Six Habits of the Highly Effective Christian (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1993), 154.

[8] See Romans 13.

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Christmas Eve 2025

title slide with photo of candles leading into sanctuary

Jeff Garrison
Christmas Eve 2025
Mayberry Presbyterian Church

The sermon was recorded the morning of Christmas Eve.

A few years before I moved up here on the Blue Ridge, I lived on an island outside of Savannah where you could have the Wall Street Journal delivered every morning before sunrise. One morning, a few days before Christmas, I picked up the Journal and began to scan the headlines. One title caught my attention. “The Salvation of the Napalm Girl.” 

I knew immediately who the article was about. She’d never sought fame, but her photo was captured on film when I was a Junior High student. I expect many of you may also remember the tragic photo of her, a young girl with her clothes burned off, running and screaming. It became an iconic image of the Vietnam War. Napalm burns and leaves the victim, if they survive, scarred for life. She became bitter. I read the article almost 50 years after the tragic events. She still requires treatment for her burns.

Her name is Ms Kim. A decade after the photo was snapped, when she was 19, she attended a small church in Vietnam on Christmas Eve. She heard the pastor deliver a Christmas message which would be familiar to us. Christmas is not about gifts carefully wrapped and placed under a tree. Christmas is about the gift of Jesus Christ; God wrapped in human flesh. A change came over her life and for the first time she experienced peace. 

The story we heard tonight for the umpteenth time has that kind of power, the power to change lives. And the story is about people every bit as overlooked as Ms Kim. 

Bethlehem wasn’t known as a thriving town. The village sat off the beaten path. It’d seen its better years as Jerusalem grew and became the place to be. When you entered the city limits, there might have been a commentative sign acknowledging their favorite son, David, who went on to be the King of Israel. 

There may have been some who still harbored ill feelings toward David. After all, he was the one who put Jerusalem on the map, which would soon eclipse Bethlehem. David positioned the Ark of the Covenant on the spot where Solomon would build the temple and the rest is history. Since those two, David and Solomon, almost a 1000 years earlier, Jerusalem prospered while Bethlehem slipped into obscurity.

Bethlehem was the type of town easily by-passed or driven through without taking a second glace. It might have had a blinking stoplight, or maybe not. It’d be like the towns we pass through when we get off the interstate and head down an old highway.

Bethlehem could have been a setting for an Edward Hopper painting. Hopper is mostly known for “Nighthawks,” a painting of an empty town at night with just a handful of lonely people hanging out in a diner. It’s often been parodied in art, with folks like James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, and Elvis Presley sitting at the counter. This sparse painting creates a sense that time has passed the town by. 

Or maybe the town could be a setting for a Tom Wait’s song—the scratchy roughness of his voice describing lonely and rejected people, struggling through life.

In many ways, Luke sets up Bethlehem by placing the birth of the Prince of Peace in a historical context. In Rome, we have Augustus, the nephew of Julius Caesar. Some twenty-five years earlier, he defeated his enemies, and the entire empire is now at peace. The glory of Rome far outshines Jerusalem and makes Bethlehem seem like a dot on a map. Yet, Caesar’s power reaches out to places like Bethlehem, even though he probably never even heard of the hamlet. And, of course, the peace Rome provides is conditional. It’s maintained at the sharp points of its Legion’s spears and swords. Those who would like to challenge the forced peace face the real possibility of crucifixion. Luke also tells us Quirinus is the governor of Syria, another Roman, a foreigner, who control events of the region.

Those rulers in high places dress in fancy robes, eat at elaborate banquets, and live in lavished palaces. They aren’t bothered by the inconvenience their decrees place on folks like Mary and Joseph. This couple is one of a million peons caught up in the clog of the empire’s machinery. If the empire says, jump, they ask how high. If the empire says go to their ancestral city, they pack their bags. It’s easy and a lot safer to blindly follow directions than to challenge the system. So, Mary and Joseph, along with others, pack their bags and head out into a world with no McDonalds and Holiday Inns at interchanges. For Mary and Joseph, they set off south, toward Bethlehem.

If there were anyone with even less joy than those who lived or stayed in Bethlehem, or those who made their way to their ancestorial home, it would be the shepherds. These sheepherders remained at the bottom of the economic ladder. They spend their time, especially at night, with their flocks grazing. The sheep are all they have. They must protect them. They can’t risk a wolf or lion eating one of their lambs. So, they camp out with the sheep, with a staff and rocks at hand to ward off intruders. They don’t even like going to town because people look down on them and complain that they smell.

You can’t get much more isolated than this—a couple who can’t find proper lodging in Bethlehem, with the wife who’s pregnant, and some shepherds watching their flocks at night. But their hopelessness quickly changes as Mary gives birth and places her baby in a manger. There is something about a baby, a newborn, which delights us. Perhaps it’s the hope a child represents. Or the child serves as an acknowledgement that we, as a specie, will live on. While birth is a special time for parents and grandparents. An infant child also has a way to melt the hearts of strangers. We smile and make funny faces and feel especially blessed if the mother allows us to hold the child for just a moment.

This child brings joy. Joy comes not just to the parents, but also to the angels. The angels share the joy with the shepherds. The shepherds want in on the act, so they leave their flocks and seek out the child. All heaven sings and shares the song with a handful of folks on earth. The shepherds also are let on the secret that, so far, only Mary and Elizabeth and their families share. This child, who is to be named Jesus. His name is the same as the Old Testament is translated as Joshua. Joshua saved the Hebrew people after Moses. Jesus saves the world. Soon, in a few generations, Jesus’ message will spread around the known world.

And for this night, the sleepy hamlet of Bethlehem, a stable is filled with joy. The darkness cannot hide the joy in the hearts of this young mother and father and the shepherds. Something changed. Yes, a child has been born. But more importantly, God is incarnate in this child. God comes in the flesh; in a way we can understand. God comes in a way to relate to all people, from lowly shepherds to the oppressed people living on the edge of an empire, and to all the world. This child, whose birth we celebrate, brings joy to the world.

And now, for this moment, although they don’t realize it, Bethlehem eclipses the important towns like Jerusalem and Rome. Truly, in God’s economy, the last will be first. 

Friends, as we light candles and recall this night in song, may you be filled with the joy of hope which comes from placing our trust in Jesus, who was born in stable. He would grow and teach and heal. The only crown he’d wear would be one of thorns as he was being mocked on his way to his execution. But death couldn’t hold him. His kingship continues. It survives all earthly kings. We continue to worship him long after the Caesars of the world have been forgotten. Amen.

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Jesus’ Birth in Matthew: A New Beginning

title slide showing photos of the inside of Mayberry and outside of Bluemont, decorated for Christmas

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches  
Matthew 1:18-25
December 21, 2025

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Thursday, December 18, 2025

At the beginning of worship:

The holiday stands in contrast to the birth of the Prince of Peace, as we used to witness in the chaos of shopping. Today, it’s a little less hectic today as we do most of our shopping online… We’ve just pushed the chaos off onto postal and delivery workers.

Several years ago, a woman shopped in one of those big city department stores. A multi-floored building, with escalators and elevators to whisk you from floor to floor. One floor was devoted just to toys. Her four and six-year-old kids considered it heaven. The mother thought it another place. 

Her kids sang the “I want this” song repeatedly. Not the exactly the same as the “repeat the sounding joy,” we hear in “Joy to the World.” On every aisle they discovered a new “I gotta have” toy. 

Frazzled and about to come unglued, the lady finally paid for her purchases. She dragged the bags and her two kids to the elevator. The door opened. She and the kids and the presents squeezed in among everyone else. As the door closed, she let out a sigh of relief. Then she blurted, “Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be strung up!” 

From the back of the elevator, a calm but a bit sarcastic voice responded, “Don’t worry, madam, we already crucified him.”[1]  

The Christmas story is all a part of a larger drama of God’s directing. Christmas celebrates God coming to us in a way we can understand. It’s a genesis, a new beginning. In that child born of Mary, a peaceful joy enters to the world. We can now experience forgiveness and to be reunited with God. There’s a link between Christmas, Good Friday and Easter. 

Before reading the Scripture:  

Surprises fill the Gospel of Matthew. It begins with a genealogy of Jesus. That seems innocent enough, but within the names, we find scandals. Four women appear, none of whom met the Jewish holiness standards. Two are foreigners, and there’s a prostitute, an adulterer, and one involved with her father-in-law…[2] Matthew drives home the point. God works in mysterious ways and can use anyone to further the kingdom. 

Following the genealogy, we learn of Jesus’ birth. While he’s given the name “Jesus,” he’s also given another name, Emmanuel, which means “God’s with us.” That’s the whole story of Jesus in a capsule. Let’s listen to the text. 

Read Matthew 1:18-25.

Christmas often doesn’t seem peaceful. Pressure builds as we strive to find the right gifts for our loved ones, or fix the perfect meal, or attend all the events and concerts and plays. 

Birth is always an exciting time, for when a child is born there is no telling what might come from his or her life. But for this child, the child Mary carries, there’s something even more special about him. He’s the Messiah. But not the Messiah folks expect. He’s not going to be a great military leader wiping our enemies. He’s not going to be a pretentious king sending decrees out from his throne in Jerusalem. A carpenter who later in his life, becomes teacher and a healer. Instead of providing earthly rewards, he erases the gap between us, citizens of earth, and God. He comes to save us from ourselves, from our sins, and from our failures at trying to be our own gods.  

God certainly chose a unique way to bring the Messiah into the world. Our text begins simply: “the birth of Jesus took place in this way.” Interestingly, the word for birth used here literally means “the genesis.”[3] With Jesus, there comes a genesis, a new beginning. If you look at the opening chapter of John’s gospel, you’ll see John drawing upon the images of creation as recorded in the first chapter of Genesis. Likewise, Matthew reminds us that this isn’t just an ordinary birth. God is starting anew. 

This is a new beginning, a genesis. In Romans 5, Paul makes this analogy, comparing the works of Adam, who brought death into the world, with the works of Christ, who brings new life.[4] With Christ, our history with the Almighty, with our Creator, a history marred since Adam, starts over.

This new beginning starts with a young woman, not yet married, yet pregnant. Her fiancé, we’re told, is a righteous man. It’s not easy to be an unwed mother today, but an unwed mother in the first century was in a real pickle. She didn’t have the social services we enjoy today to help such individuals and in a harsh religion which frowned on moral failure, such a woman had few options. She and her child would always be a social outcast. But Mary wasn’t just any woman with an out-of-wedlock pregnancy. She was carrying the Messiah… Yet, her situation is precarious considering the pivotal role she plays in salvation history.

As expecedt, this shocks her fiancé We’re told he planned to quickly dismiss Mary which may sound harsh, but not in the culture of that era. He could have gone public and humiliated Mary and, at the same time, made himself look righteous. Because Joseph would have been wronged yet so righteous, his sad eyes would have drawn women. They’d fall at his feet. But instead of boosting himself at Mary’s disgrace, he decides to quietly dismiss her. Joseph would now have to take the heat. It was an honorable thing to do, for he would protect Mary from crowds (after all, there might have been those willing to stone her).

From this story, we learn something about the true nature of righteousness. It’s not just doing what is right according to the laws or customs. It means taking on, at the expense of oneself, the guilt of another. Christ does this for the world. To a lesser but still significant manner, Joseph’s does this for Mary. It’s no longer Mary against the world, but Mary and Joseph and, of course, God. 

The glue holding this passage together is the Holy Spirit. A divine matchmaker, the Spirit impregnates Mary, bringing life into her womb and setting off this genesis, this new beginning. The Spirit also works on the other side of the equation, with Joseph, getting him to buy into the plan. Through a dream, an angel informs Joseph of Mary’s righteousness and God’s plan for the child she carries. When Joseph awakes, he decides not to dismiss Mary, but to go ahead with the wedding. They’ll marry and together raise this child and participate in God’s plan for reconciling himself to a fallen world. Joseph listened to God message in this dream. 

As I’ve shared before, when I was considering seminary, I had several dreams affirming my decision. I’m not sure I would have been as willing and ready to quit a job, sell a house, and move four states away had it not been for those dreams. In one, I found myself asking if it was worth it as I didn’t really think I was cut out for all this. But in this dream, I heard a very distinct voice saying, “Go ahead and go, and when you’re done, you’ll know what you’re to do.” Notice that I did not know where I was going or what it was that I’d be doing. I had to step out in faith, just as Joseph’s decision still required faith. But these dreams gave me the confidence I needed to pack up and head to seminary.  

Joseph’s dream shows us the importance of listening to God and when we listen to God and follow his path, we find peace. Let me clarify. I don’t think listening to God means trying to understand all our dreams. Often our dreams are a way our minds sort out stuff. Instead of investing large amounts of time trying to understand what our dreams tell us, we need prepare ourselves to hear God’s voice by studying Scripture, praying, and being open to hear God by whatever means the divine comes to us. 

God’s word can come many ways: in our sleep, through a thought we have while walking or driving, or in a conversation. It may be spoken through a sarcastic voice in the back of an elevator in a crowded department store. What’s important is that we know God’s word enough to make sure what we hear is from God. Notice in our account today how the angel of the dream reminds Joseph of the prophecies in Scripture. For him, that formed the assurance he needed to know God was behind this.

A second clarification needs to be made is about the meaning of peace. Obviously, if you read beyond the first chapter of Matthew, which we’ll do on the Sundays after Christmas Day, you’ll see that peace eludes Mary and Joseph. They flee as refugees to Egypt to escape Herod. The peace they had, in that little bundle of joy they protect, comes from knowing they’re doing God’s will. God’s Spirit guided them, providing the strength they desperately need. God’s peace doesn’t mean the absence of conflict, but the assurance of God’s presence. As the Psalmist reminds us, it’s the peace that overwhelms us even in the “shadows of death.”[5]   

This passage is about the work of the Holy Spirit, guiding and directing mere mortals, like you and me, to help bring in God’s kingdom. Life is like this. It’s not about us; it’s about God. As for us, today, we, too, need to be open to experiencing that prod from God to take the risk before us. We need to be prodded to step out in faith. God’s Spirit gives us new life. In our prayers, in our Bible Study, in our mediation time, in times of quietness which may only come when we’re asleep, we need to be open to hearing God’s invitation to participate with him in bringing about the kingdom. 

We learn in the first chapter of Matthew that God works through ordinary people. In It’s Up to Us. John Kasich writes, “Leadership comes in all shapes and sizes, but it almost always starts at home and grows from there.”[6] Well, sometimes, it starts in a manger. And it starts when we respond to God’s call, for God can do great things through us, sometimes frightening things, but almost always things we wouldn’t dreamed of doing on our own. 

When we hear God’s call and we answer, God gives us the peace to know that he’s with us and will guide us so that we might do whatever small part we’re called to do to bring about God’s kingdom. Joseph listened to God. Will we? Amen.  

[1] I have told this story several times. I read the story and modified it from one used in a sermon by Dr Clayton Cobb, St Peter’s by the Sea Presbyterian Church, Rancho Palos Verdes, CA.

[2] Tamar (Genesis 38), Rahab (Joshua 2), Ruth (the Moabite with her own book in the Bible) and Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11)

[3] Dale Brunner, The Christbook, Matthew 1-12 (1992, Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2004), 23.

[4] Romans 5:12-21

[5] Psalm 23.

[6] John Kasich, It’s Up to US: Ten Little Ways We Can Bring About Big Change (Hanover Square Press, 2019), 108.

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Advent 3: The Doubts of the Faithful

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
December 14, 2025
Matthew 11:2-15

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, December 12, 2025

At the beginning of worship:
The Chinese have a legend about a man who strayed into the Land of the Fools. In this new country he witnessed a strange sight. People fled in terror from a field at harvest. “A monster,” they yelled. Seeing nothing alarming, the man ventured into the field and discovered the object of everyone’s fear: an overgrown watermelon. 

The stranger offered to kill the monster. He walked into the field and bravely drew his knife and cut the melon from its vine. Lifting the object of their fear for all to see, he cut it in half. Then he dug out some of the center of the melon and ate it.

The people assumed if this man would eat a monster, he’d eat them too. They grabbed their pitchforks and torches crying, “He will kill and eat us, unless we get rid of him. They drove the man from town.

Later, a second man came into the Land of Fools and the same thing happened. But instead of offering to take care of the monster, this man listed to the people. He tiptoed away from the monster, respecting their fear. Slowly, he gained their confidence. He spent time in their homes teaching them. In time, they lost their fear of melons and even began to cultivate them.[1]

Which of these two visiting strangers acted the most like Jesus? 

Before reading the Scripture:
Last week I reminded you the lectionary, which I am preaching from for a few months, devotes two weeks during Advent to John the Baptist. In Matthew’s gospel, the first week is John’s ministry of preparation before Jesus began his ministry. The second week is devoted to a time near the end of John’s life. A few years have passed and John’s in prison. With a lot of time on his hands, he wonders if he got things right. He claimed Jesus to be the Messiah, the coming one, but now he’s not so sure.  

Even saints have doubts and it’s easy to become depressed when you lose control of your life and can do nothing to wait. We need to remember that we’re judged based on our faith, not our doubts, for if we are so sure of things, there would be no need for faith.

Read Matthew 11:2-15

As an unborn child, in his mother’s womb, John recognized the embryotic Jesus in Mary’s womb. We’re told John kicked with joy when Mary, Jesus’ mother, visited Elizabeth.[2]  

On the banks of the Jordan, where John prepared people for the coming of the Messiah, he spots Jesus from a distant and calls out to him. And when Jesus wants to be baptized, John questions the propriety of such an action. After all, he claims not to be worthy to untie his shoes.[3]

But things change. Reports of Jesus activity spreads across the land. It even reaches John, who sits rotting away in prison. With lots of time on his hands, his mind begins to wander. Is Jesus really the one?

As we saw last week, looking at Matthew 3, John expected the Messiah to come in a fury. He would raise his winnowing fork like a sword, ready to separate the chaff from the grain. John depicts a wicked world filled with snakes and sinners in need of repentance. John sees the Messiah’s job to clean up the Israelite’s act. I’m sure he hopes, like most Jews of the time, the Messiah will kick out the Romans and assumes leadership on David’s throne. But the reports out of Galilee depict a gentle man addressing the needs of the people. So, John sends some of his disciples to Jesus to find out if he’s the one. 

This question from John has caused problems for Biblical scholars and theologians for the last two thousand years. After all, those deemed holy shouldn’t have doubts, should they? Did John forget what he said about Jesus?[4] From Origen in the second century, to Augustine in the fourth, and on to Luther and Calvin in the 16thCentury, theologians have pondered this request. They assumed John knew who Jesus was. After all, John picked Jesus out of the crowd. In this understanding, the sending of his disciples to ask this question was to boost John’s disciples’ faith, not his.[5] But such an interpretation makes a lot of assumptions which are not in the text. 

Instead of theologians, maybe we should turn to poets. 

There lives more faith in honest doubt, 
Believe me, than in half the creeds.

The line comes from a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson.[6] Faith lives in doubt, not certainty.

You know, John the Baptist was a strange bird. He spent most of his life out in the wilderness, away from the religious and government establishments and the centers of powers. Out there, on the Jordan River, John freely did his ministry. The powers in Jerusalem happily allowed John to continue his ranting if he dealt only with the sins of the common folk. But when John started talking about the sins of those in power, condemning Herod Antipas for marrying his brother’s wife, he went too far.[7]

Challenging the morals of leaders is dangerous. John ends up in prison. Soon, John will be executed. But now he waits, wondering… “Did I do the right thing?”

Like I said, John may have been like most Jews of his day who saw the Messiah as a militant leader pushing through his agenda and not withholding the use of the sword. Maybe he hoped Jesus would raise a band of men and free him from jail. So, we must wonder about Jesus less-than-direct answer to the question on his identity. Jesus tells John’s disciples to go back and tell them what they see: the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear and the dead raised… This list echoes a list from Isaiah and the teachings from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.[8]  

There’s something interesting thing to note in this list of things Jesus recites as proof as to his identity. Such a list, we assume, goes from minor to major miracles. Jesus starts off with the blind seeing, the lame walking and builds toward the dead being raised. But then, he talks about preaching to the poor. It seems the later would be easier than all the others, but Jesus places it in the place of prominence. Perhaps evangelizing the poor is more important than everything else.[9] This is something we, who make up the church, should ponder.

After John’s disciples leave, Jesus heaps praise on John to the crowd around him. He begins in his classic way of asking a rhetorical question. “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind, or a man in fancy clothes. The reed may be a reference to Herod Antipas, who had a palace on the Dead Sea and had coins printed with the image of reeds. If this is the case, Jesus’ metaphor of the reed may have contrasted the weak reeds of political leadership with John, the one who spoke truth to power.[10]

Jesus suggests John is a prophet, but even more than that as he represents Elijah. And don’t forget, Elijah spoke the truth to power as he addressed the sins of Ahab and Jezebel.

If you recall, instead of dying, a fiery chariot swept Elijah off his feet and whisked him away.[11] Many Jews, to this day, leave an empty seat at Passover for Elijah. Jesus suggests John’s role is like Elijah, preparing the way for the Messiah.

Probably the most difficult part of this passage to understand is verse 12. Our text reads, “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and violent people take it by force.” But the passage can also be translated as “From the days of John until now the kingdom of heaven has been coming violently.”[12]

This translation could be referring to the many violent revolutions occurring before and after Jesus’ life. The revolutionaries attempted to throw off Roman bondage and reinstitute a Jewish state. They finally succeeded in 66 AD, the year Herod’s temple was finally finished. But it was short-lived. The Romans returned in in 70 AD, defeating the Jews and destroying the temple. 

But violence wasn’t in Jesus’ plans, as he makes clear in his response to John’s question. Maybe John, sitting in prison, hoped Jesus would change his mind and pick up the sword, but Jesus sends back a message which focused on his mercy and kindness. 

As we wait during the season of Advent, we need to remember why Jesus came. The Prince of Peace, he avoided violence, even at the end by telling Peter to put away his sword.[13] He spent time connecting with people. Like the stranger in the Chinese legend I shared at the beginning of worship, he gently taught people what’s important. 

During Advent, we long for the cosmic Christ to return and do battle with the forces of evil, but we shouldn’t forget that our Lord’s greatest strength comes from his gentleness and his love. And as his followers, we’re to emulate his behavior as outlined in his reply to John. Amen.

[1] William R. White, Stories for the Journey (Minneapolis,  Augsburg Press, 1988), 107-108.

[2] Luke 1:41.

[3] Matthew 3:13-17. See also Luke 3:16-17 and John 1:29-30.

[4] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1992), 120.

[5] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: Matthew 1-12 (1987, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 506

[6] Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, XCVI, as quoted by Malcom Guite, Waiting on the Word (London: Canterbury Press, 2015), 50.  

[7] Matthew 14:3-6

[8][8] Isaiah 61:1 and 35:5. Hare,121 and Bruner, 507.

[9] Bruner, 508.

[10] Hare, 122.

[11] 2 Kings 2:1-12.

[12] Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on his Literary and Theological Art, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), 209.

[13] Matthew 26:52, Luke 22:49-50, and John 18:10-11. John’s gospel identifies the disciple who drew his sword as Peter. 

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The Lights on Harkers Island

Title slights with photos of anchor lights and trees on Harkers Island at Christmas

You must want to go to Harkers Island to get there. There are no major highways running to the island. Instead, you exit US 70 near its eastern terminus, drive south through marsh and over a bridge to reach the island. To go further, you must take a boat or be an excellent swimmer. Once you’re on Harkers Island, you’re closer by boat than car to Beaufort or Morehead City. 

Cape Lookout Lighthouse from Harkers Island (roughly five miles away)

People come to Harkers Island in order to get to Cape Lookout lighthouse or the old lifesaving station near the Cape Lookout shoals. Others come to walk the beach along Shackleford Banks where wild horses roam. In the fall of the year, most people come to fish for blues or trout in sight of the lighthouse or to hunt ducks and geese in the marsh along the Atlantic flyway. And if you come in December and hang around till dark, you’re treated to an incredible light show as the island decorates itself for Christmas. 

Decoy ornaments

The people on Harkers Island are creative. Known for carving duck decoys, they also know how to put on a good Christmas light festival. Homes and utility poles on the island often sport anchors created by Andy Scott and Richard Gillikin. During the holidays, blue lights accent these anchors. Lights decorate old boats abandoned on empty lots. Lights decorate docks and homes.  And outside the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center, flapping geese pull Santa’s sleigh. Behind the sleigh, porpoises jump. And you can’t miss the huge Christmas tree built out of stacked crab pots. 

During December, dozens of crab pot trees are showcased inside the Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center. Local families, businesses, churches, schools, and community organizations sponsor and decorate the trees. Trees recall those who died from cancer and old ghost towns like Portsmouth, now a part of the National Seashore. One tree celebrates the dark skies around Cape Lookout. On a night with clear skies, the stars seem more brilliant without much light pollution. One tree celebrated the life of Alma, who baked hundreds of wedding cakes for the community over the year. Other trees celebrate those who worked on the waters around Harkers Island for a living, families who built boats, and the Jim Dandy’s family who stores is one of the oldest businesses in Carteret County. 

The museum, located on the east end of the island, has more than Christmas trees to offer. The main floor contains an outstanding collection of duck decoys along with history of hunting along the Core Sound. The second-floor exhibits highlight the folks who made up the small “down east” communities such as Bettie, Cedar Island, Davis, Lola, Sealevel, Smyrna,  Stacy, and Williston.  And for those who are healthy, there is an observation deck two stories higher, providing views of the marsh around Harkers Island. 

My father started to come up to Lookout to camp and fish back in the late1980s. At the time I was tramping around the country and either living in Nevada or Pittsburgh. But every few years I tried to get home during this time to enjoy a few days of fishing. As everyone aged, they stopped camping and instead rented a house on Harkers Island, which became a base for fishing.

This year, my time on the island began with a gale (my sister and I did some shopping in Morehead City and visited Fort Macon on Emerald Isle. It’s been at least 40 years since I was at Fort Macon. On Tuesday, the rains came and we along with my brother checked out Beaufort. Sadly, we found the Maritime museum closed but we could watch them work on such boats across the street and toured galleries and stories along the waterfront.

On Wednesday, we were up earl, running through Barden’s Inlet for a day of fishing around the jetty on the southside of Cape Lookout. We caught a few trout that were not of legal size and had to be thrown back, along with some blues. We talked a lot about my dad during the four days I was on the island. It was good to be back in familiar waters.

Other Lookout Posts:

2020: Last time fishing with my dad on Lookout

2022: Solo kayak trip to Lookout

2024: Fishing with my siblings

Cape Lookout Lighthouse coming back in through Barden’s Inlet
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Advent 2: The Preaching of John the Baptist

title slide with photo of churches decorated for Christmas

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
Matthew 3:1-12
December 7, 2025

At the beginning of worship:

Two preachers on their day off, fished at a river by a road. Before sitting on the bank, where they watched their corks with hope a fish would be soon tugging, they posted a sign by the road. It read, “The end is near! Turn yourself around before it’s too late.” 

A few minutes later a car flew by. Seeing the sign and the preachers, the driver yelled out, “Keep your religion to yourselves, you fanatics.” He hit the gas, sending rocks flying and dust swirling as he rounded the curve. 

A moment later, braking tires crunched over the gravel. Then came a big splash. 

One of the preachers looked at the other and said, “Maybe we should have just written, ‘Bridge Out’?”

The lectionary, on the second and third Sundays of Advent, focus on John the Baptist. At a time, we’re getting excited about Christmas joy, we hear the rantings of a crazy prophet calling us to repentance. 

Before reading the scripture:

Why do we only find the story of Jesus’ birth in two of the gospels, while the story of John the Baptist preparing the way for the Messiah shows up in all four of the gospels? And all four gospels link back to Isaiah, that voice howling out in the wilderness.[1]Scripture demands we contend with the story of John the Baptist, even more so than the birth stories of our Savior. What are we being told here? How does the fire and brimstone preaching of John the Baptist prepare us for the loving message of Jesus? 

If we want to get to the good news, we must face the bad. Before we can accept a Savior, we must comprehend our own issues. We’re sinners. So, let’s listen to what John has to say to us. 

Read Matthew 3:1-12

I wonder about John’s message. It’s so harsh, maybe he should have toned down his words, like the two fishing pastors I told you about at the beginning of worship. Repeatedly, John talks of fire, and not the warming flames of a campfire, but the ominous fire like those recently experienced in Hong Kong where numerous high rises burned.[2] John’s dangerous fire consumes and purifies. 

“You brood of vipers,” John calls the religious leaders of the day. That doesn’t sound very loving, does it? Jesus would never say that, would he? Actually, Jesus’ does. Twice in Matthew’s gospel.[3] What does this phrase, which Matthew liked so much that he recalled it three times, mean? And how does this relate to a loving God? 

Law and gospel must go together. In scripture, law came at Sinai during the Exodus and the gospel came roughly1400 years later with the exemplary life, atoning death and glorious resurrection of Jesus. John is the last in a series of prophets who show our failure of abiding by the law as he calls us to clean up our acts. God is doing something new and marvelous. We need to be ready! All this talk about fire and calling people snakes catches their attention. It also catches our attention. We’re forced to examine our own failings so that we might repent and follow Jesus. 

Law and gospel, go together. To understand the story of scripture, we can’t just push off the “law” parts of the Bible and only focus on the gospel. The gospel makes no sense without the law. The gospel is about how God saves us from our failures, our sin. John provides those listening to his preaching with a choice. They can confess their sins and begin the process of repentance. Repentance means to turn around or to start in a new direction. They had to leave sin behind as they joyfully accept what new God activity within their midst. 

So, why does John call the religious teachers and leaders of the day a brood of vipers? That’s a harsh term. It conjures up nightmares, a den full of snakes, a place for Indiana Jones but not the rest of us. In the desert, you must be careful trying to find shade under a rock overhang or in a grotto or cave. Snakes tend to gather in such places to avoid the heat of the day. You might not want to mess with them. By using snakes as an illustration, John implies their words are poisonous. 

Consider this: both the leaders of the day and John took seriously the sins of the people. But the difference is that the leaders of the day taught that people must justify themselves before God through an elaborate system of sacrifices, whereas John twists the concern of sin around to where people confess their sins, so that they might be washed of them as symbolized in baptism.[4]

All this comes back to God doing something new. With John the Baptist, God paves the way for his Son to come on the scene and to teach people a new way to live and to be human. To prepare for something new, people must admit their own sinfulness and to realize they long for something better. Of course, if we don’t think we need to be better, there’s a warning here. Judgment for transgressing the law hangs over our heads. If we ignore our sinfulness, we die to the law? Or, we accept and confess our sinfulness and embrace the grace that Jesus’ offers? Those are our choices.

Advent is the time for us to prepare for the loving tenderness shown by Jesus. If God redeems this world, if God promises a new heaven and a new earth, we should want to be ready. But to receive God’s gift, we must leave the past behind. We must be willing to examine deep within our souls and to offer up all that’s not godly so that we might be both cleansed of our sin and have the room to accept Christ into our hearts. We must be willing to allow ourselves to be transformed into something new and better. For Advent is a time not only to remember that Christ came, but that he will come again. We must be ready.

Your assignment for this week (and every week) is to examine yourself, your words, your thoughts, your actions. What have you done that’s not been Christ-like? Have you harbored bitterness or showed unkindness or said things which twisted the truth or belittled another? We all do such things. But we need to bring our guilt to God. That’s what John encourages. Get rid of the darkness by bringing it to the light. 

We must not just prepare ourselves; we should prepare the church, which, in the final event of history, becomes the bride of Christ.[5]That means the church must confront all we’ve done that’s not holy, and there’s been a lot. From the crusades to the inquisition and witch-hunts, from the support of slavery and conquest to our tendency to huddle into crowds of similar people and turn our backs on the world for which Christ came and gave his life. The earthly church has not always been holy. 

We need to confess this! John’s call to the religious establishment of the day still holds. Are we willing to confess our shortcomings and to be open to what God is doing in the world? That means we must give up control, for this enterprise known as the church isn’t about us. It’s about God. It’s about us bringing glory to God as we serve as the hands and the feet of our Lord in the world. 

Is there joy in this passage? Yes, but we must get beyond the call to prepare, which John focuses on, and realize God’s activities which occur in the background. We trust in a God of resurrection. Even if the world destroys itself, God won’t let that be the final word. God wants to remake us. John’s role is to prepare us. Our role is to respond to John’s call to repentance so we might be open to what God is doing in our lives and in our fellowship. Confession and repentance may not be in favor in today’s secular world, but in the church, it’s where we begin. All of us need to take a deep look at ourselves and then turn to God and fall on our knees… Amen. 

[1] Isaiah 40:3-5. Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook, Matthew 1-12 (Grand Rapids: Eerdman, 2004), 88. 

[2] ttps://abcnews.go.com/International/death-toll-climbs-146-hong-kong-high-rise/story?id=127977217

[3] Matthew 12:34 and 23:33.

[4] Bruner, 89.  Bruner attributes this idea of a shift from justifying to accusing to Matthew Henry’s Commentary (1721).

[5] Revelation 21:2.

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Reviews of my November readings:

title slide with book covers

Phillip Cary, The Nicene Creed: An Introduction

Book cover

 (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2023), 231 pages including a subject and scripture index. 

Cary provides a thorough overlook of the Nicene Creed, breaking it up into three articles (Father, Son, and Spirit). He then provides a short chapter on each phrase within the Creed. He also brings in the history behind the creed, the debate with Arianism during the 4th Century (was Jesus God or had he been created by God). At the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, that was the main issue and is why the second article within the creed (God the Son) is the longest. In 325, the creed abruptly ended, “I believe in the Holy Spirit.” Later councils (especially Constantinople in 381) expanded the third article. 

I found his discussion of the filoque clause in the third article very helpful. The West (Roman Catholic and Protestants) say the Spirit descends from the Father and the Son. In the East, they only say the Spirit descends from the Father. One can debate it both ways, but I was surprised to learn one of the main issue with the East not accepting the clause was that it decided at the Council of Toledo in the 5th Century. This was a regional council and didn’t involve the whole church. The clause came from the teachings of Augustine which found a receptive ear in Spain. 

In September, I read a short book by Kevin DeYoung on the Nicene Creed in preparation for preaching a series of sermons on the Creed. DeYoung’s study was too brief and not nearly as helpful as Cary’s work. While titled “An Introduction,” Cary goes into much more detail than DeYoung and if you are interested in the Creed, I highly recommend his book. 

Erin Wilson, Blue: Poems 

(Richmond, VA: Circling Rivers, 2022), 114 pages, black and white photos included. 

Erin Wilson used to blog, posting stark black-and-white photos with quotes and poetry.  I picked up this book of poetry when it was published and then lost it. I’m glad it’s found. These poems center around the challenges of motherhood and raising a son who appears to love fried eggs yet struggles with depression. The stark words capture her struggles as well as providing glimpses of grace. She expresses her frustration with the situation such as when her former husband took her son shooting. The winters of Canada, where she lives, often provide a backdrop for her poems. And as one comes to the end of this collection, she’s writing on the cusp of the pandemic, expressing what many felt as we wondered about our future. 

Are you kidding me,
we got through those 
tough years,
and now there’s going to be
a pandemic?   b

(from the poem, “Blue, Redux”)

As with her blog, mixed among the poems are black-and-white photographs. If you’re into modern poetry, I encourage you to check out this book. 

Notes on my Russian reading


I spent most of late October and early November reading (and listening to) a massive biography of the second half of Joseph Stalin’s life. I read some Russian history in college (mainly looking at the end of the 19th and early 20th Century). In this blog, I have also reviewed books on Russian history including Anne Applebaum’s Gulag, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, and John Burgess, Holy Rus’.

But I knew nothing about Stalin. This was brought to my attention recently in Rebecca Solnit’s book, Orwell’s Roses, which I read back in the summer. Solnit saw Stalin as Orwell’s muse, providing the background for his greatest works (Animal Farm and 1984). While Stalin was the type of man Orwell feared, both enjoyed roses and gardens. Stalin also attempted to grow lemons, which didn’t grow well in Moscow’s winters. Stalin’s love of gardens stands in sharp contrast to his evil and brutality.  

Simon Sebag Montefiore, Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar 

book cover

(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2007), pages including Source Notes, Selected Bibliography, and Index.  Audible, 27 hours and 50 minutes.

Montefiore begins with the evening of Nadya’s death in 1932. Nadya was Stalin’s second wife, (his first wife died, Kato, had died of natural causes 1907).  There had been a party at the Kremlin that evening. Between Stalin’s flirting and picking on Nadya for not drinking, she left the party upset and returned to their apartment. Later, she was found by the housekeeper, dead from a gunshot. The gun, a pistol which had been a gift of her brother, was at her side. While it is assumed she died of suicide (and her death was reported as from an infection), some think she was murdered. 

Nadya’s death occurred as Stalin was cementing his dictatorial control of the Soviet Union. Over the next few years, he became an absolute dictator.  The last group with a chance to curtail his power was the military, which he handled by executing the top military leadership in the purges of the latter half of the 1930s. According to Montefiore, after Nadya’s death he no longer trusted the wives of those around him and during the purges had some wives killed while allowing their loyal husbands to live. 

Stalin could be arbitrary as to who lived and who died. A mark on a sheet of paper was all it took. But Stalin never took part in the killings, allowing others to carry out the execution and then later having the executors killed, creating a culture of fear and mistrust. 

Stalin was a late-night person. He often threw late dinner parties which involved drinking and then movies in the early morning hours. Then he wouldn’t come back into the office until mid-day, often to repeat the same cycle.

I found it interesting the Soviet leadership knew Germany’s plans to invade several years before the war began in June 1941. Oddly, as late as January 1941, long after the Nazis had blitzkrieg across Western Europe, those in the Kremlin were debating the merits of tanks over artillery pulled by horses. 

Russia hoped Germany wouldn’t invade until 1943, giving them time to build a more modern army.  Stalin felt he could trust Hitler even when his own intelligence knew the German plans. When Germany launched the invasion, at first Stalin froze and was almost immobile, seemingly overwhelmed and not sure what to do. Then he took command. He significantly reduced his alcohol consumption during the war. As Germany advanced, he stayed in Moscow even when others suggested he leave. This action encouraged his troops and helped stop the German advance. Early in the war, one of his sons was captured early in the war. After Stalingrad, when Russia captured a German Field Marshall, there was an offer to trade his son for the Field Marshall, but Stalin refused suggesting there were so many other families who had captured soldiers. Stalin had no respect for those who surrendered and felt honored when he learned of his son’s suicide by running into a German electric fence.

Stalin also had an interesting relationship with both Churchill and Roosevelt, preferring the later to the former even though his late-night lifestyle was probably closer aligned to Churchill. As a master of understanding humans and knowing how to create conflict between those around him, Stalin hoped to create a rift between the leaders of the United States and Great Britain. 

Toward the end of the war, as the horrified reports of Germany’s treatment of the Jews became better known, there was some thought in the Kremlin offering the Crimea as a Jewish homeland. Russia was also supportive of Israel and became the first nation to offer the full legal recognition. But it upset Stalin as Israel became closer to the United States.  After the war, Stalin’s policies became more anti-sematic. While Jews suffered during the purges of the late 1930 along with everyone else, Stalin’s policies shifted to more systemic persecution of the Jews after the war. 

Once Stalin’s armies conquered Berlin, Stalin resumed heavy drinking and all-night parties. But as he aged, he spent more time away from governing, even reconnecting with friends from his youth. But he also became lonelier. Having killed or had so many people killed, including those who had once been close to him, people were afraid of becoming too close to him. 

Through the book, Montefiore refers to Stalin unique background. Unlike most of the leaders of the Russian Revolution, Stalin came from a working-class background. And he was not Russian, but Georgian. I found this book very helpful for learning more about Stalin, a man who caused more suffering and pain in the 20thCentury except perhaps Hitler. At times, Montefiore humanizes Stalin. While he was a brutal man, he could also be kind to old friends and children. And he loved gardens. 

While not its intention, this book provides insight into Russia today. While there was an attempt to wash Stalin out-of-history, his harsh legacy remains. We should understand our enemies. Stalin himself invested time in studying history and understanding the leadership of his enemies. Montefiore also provides the reader with many mini-biographies of those around Stalin, which was helpful. Montefiore mentions Stalin’s policies which lead to the widespread starvation in Ukraine in the early 30s (see Applebaum’s Red Famine, but throughout this time period, he shows that Ukraine’s desire for independence caused problems for the Soviet state. I would only recommend this book for those deeply interested in Russian history. 

Simon Sebag Montefiore, Young Stalin 

Book cover of "Young Stalin"
Version 1.0.0

(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2007), 460 pages including Source Notes, Selected Bibliography, and Index. 

After reading the first book, I turned to Montefiore’s book on Stalin’s young life which was published 3 years after his first book. I still have a gap to read, from 1917 to 1932. 

Stalin’s mother wanted him to be educated and to become a priest. His father thought education a waste of time. He wanted his son to follow him into the cobbler business. The mother won out and his father became an alcoholic. And while Stalin attended to school and later seminary, he also was involved in Georgian gangs and street fighting, which played a role in his rise to the head of the Bolshevik party.  

Stalin excelled at school. But as he began to become a Marxist, he became more of a rebel and was often punished for reading prohibited literature. Several of his fellow seminary students also became Marxists and would follow Stalin’s rise within the Bolshevik party.  Early on, Stalin became a chief source of finance for the party, raising money through bank robberies and possibility even piracy.  In much, it is hard to know how much he was involved as he had others doing the actual deeds.  He also spent time in prison and in Siberia, but only his last exile to a northern village was extreme. Yet, there Stalin began to thrive, enjoying hunting and fishing and continuing to be involved in revolutionary activity. 

While in exile, he and other exiled prisoners were sent West to serve in the army against Germany during the First World War. Russian armies were losing and they needed men (kind of like today as Russia emptied its prisons to send men to fight in Ukraine). Stalin ended up not being chosen for the army due to an injury to an arm. As he learned of Russia’s potential collapse, he headed back west for the revolution. 

Montefiore notes many inconsistencies in Stalin’s story such as other possibilities as to Stalin’s father. Stalin even claimed on occasion that his father was a priest and there was at least one addition candidate for his faither, but the cobbler seems most likely. 

I had never considered Stalin to be an intellectual. While he dropped out of school, he never lost his love for learning and continued to learn, using his knowledge as he began to siege power in Russia. Unlike other biographers, Montefiore emphasizes that Stalin rise to power came early, before the Revolution of 1917. 

I found it odd that according to Montefiore, Stalin disliked Trosky from the first time they met. Yet the two of them were chosen for key positions in the government by Lenin, who like Stalin pitted leaders against each other. 

One of the difficulties with this book was keeping all the names Stalin used straight. For much of this part of his life, Stalin worked underground. Helpfully, the back of the book listed all the aliases used by Stalin, which was not his real name. While Montefiore emphasizes Stalin’s interest in Marxism, it seems he was more interested in power and using it for his own benefit. 

Cape lookout Lighthouse.
I’m currently on Harkers Island on a family fishing trip. This was a photo of Cape Lookout Lighthouse last night.