Author: jgarrison

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Ephesus: The Church Who Forgot to Love

Title Slide with photo of two rock churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches 
May 11, 2025
Revelation 2:1-7

At the beginning of worship:
Let me tell you a bit about Sam Jones. He was one of America’s most popular preachers in the late 19th and early 20th Century. You could sum his message up in this manner: “Quit your meanness!” At his peak, he often outdrew Dwight Moody. Many considered him a better preacher. By all accounts, he was funnier. 

Sam Jones is mostly forgotten. While there have been numerous biographies of Moody, there’s only been one of Jones published since his death in 1906. Laughter in the Amen Corner came out in 1993.[1] Reading this book I learned Jones was from Cartersville, Georgia. It’s just a jump from Donna’s hometown. The next time we visited, I insisted on going. Donna thought I’d lost my mind and acted like Cartersville was on the far side of the earth. 

That didn’t matter. I drove the 15 miles over to Cartersville. I wanted to see the town that produced Sam Jones. 

Cartersville is a pleasant railroad town. Lots of trains race through the town, but they no longer stop. For Civil War buffs, this is the same railroad grade upon which the great train chase with the locomotive “The General” occurred.   

As with most county seats, the courthouse sits on a hill in the middle. Three churches flank the courthouse in Cartersville. Looking up from the train station, you have the Baptist on the left and the Methodist on the right. We Presbyterians are behind the courthouse—but we had a fine church there, one we cand be proud of. I walked around town to see what I could glean. 

At the Baptist Church, I learned Lottie Moon, the famous missionary to China and for whom the Southern Baptist have named their world mission offerings after, grew up in that church. And then, at the Methodist Church, I was surprised to see it named for Sam Jones. A few years after Jones’ death, they built a new sanctuary and named it, according to the cornerstone, “The Sam Jones Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church, South. (This was before all the mergers leading to the United Methodist Church.) I was amazed that this little town produced two of the South’s most famous religious figures in the late 19th Century. I was a bit envious, wondering when the Presbyterian Church would catch up.

Although Jones was a proud Southern Methodist, it didn’t make much difference to him what flavor of religion one belonged. “A creed hasn’t’ got legs,” Jones often quipped, ‘and I can’t follow it.” And he’s right. Ultimately, we’re not called to be Presbyterian or Methodist or Baptist, but to follow the Savior. Jones humor was such that it pointed out human folly. “I could never preach,” he told a reporter, shyly adding, “but I can talk a little.” Once Jones got the crowd laughing at themselves, he’d introduce them to Jesus. It’s not a bad strategy.   

Before reading the Scriptures

Starting today, we’re going to look at each of the seven churches of Revelation. While all of Revelation is a letter, there are individual messages to seven churches, which we were introduced to last week. 

These seven churches are in towns which form a circle along a Roman postal route.[2] Jesus is present within each church, so he’s able to communicate what’s happening in the life of each congregation. But it would be a mistake to think these letters only applies to the seven individual churches. The number seven, the divine number, implies fullness. So, within these letters we find situations that are present in our churches still today; hence, looking at these letters will be a lot like us looking in a mirror.   

These seven messages within the larger letter all take on a similar form. They’re addressed to an angel of each church. Christ is the author, but for each church a different metaphor is employed to refer to his identity. In most cases, there is praise for what the church does well as well as condemnation for where they fail.[3]

Like these churches, we’d probably find Christ evaluating us in a similar manner, patting us on the back for the good we do and chastising us for the times we fail to live up to his standards.  

The first church in our visit is Ephesus. We know a lot about the early life of this church from the book of Acts. We also have Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. Christianity was probably brought to Ephesus by Priscilla and Aquila around 52 A.D.[4]  Paul spent a couple years in the city. So did Timothy. Ephesus bustled with trade in the first century. A port city of nearly quarter million people, it sat on a major trade route into Asia. 

The city boasted several major pagan temples, the most important one being for the Greek fertility goddess Artemis (the Roman goddess Diana). We know from Acts the silversmiths of this temple rioted because people were converting to Christianity and buying fewer pagan statues.[5] Trade wars are nothing new. 

Let’s turn to Scripture and see what Jesus has to say to this congregation. 

 Read Revelation 2:1-7.

Think for a minute. Do you know any Christians who used to have a vibrant faith, was a pleasure to be around, but since has become a legalist? Someone joyous and happy, but now bitter?  Someone who use to be sweet and are now sour? Perhaps you’re feeling this way. It seems to be a common occurrence. We burn out. We lose focus. And we have all the right intentions but find ourselves bogged down in petty disputes. 

As the revivalist Sam Jones, whom I introduced earlier this morning, once said, creating a commonly used cliché, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” We start out with great plans but become sidetracked. Perhaps that’s what happened to the church in Ephesus. Or maybe they just felt good demanding other people obey God’s law. It gave them a sense of authority which is why humility is so important.

The Ephesians are zealous enforcers of orthodoxy. They tow the party line. They deal with heretics, those whose teachings go against the gospel, swiftly. The congregation has been patiently waiting for Christ’s return and has not grown weary. That sounds good. But then the tone of the letter changes, as Jesus charges them for abandoning the love they once had. 

It appears the Ephesians started off being a loving community. But their love waned. They put too much emphasis on right and wrong beliefs. Now, according to this letter, While Jesus isn’t too happy with these false teachers, he’s even more concerned about the lack of love among the faithful. They’re like those Jesus condemns in the Sermon of the Mount. They try to take a speck out of someone’s eye with a log in their own.[6]

In John’s Epistles, we’re told that God is love and those who love abides in God and God abides in them.[7] The church in Ephesus, for all their insistence on believing right, missed the boat. As important as right doctrine may be, it’s more important to have a loving community. Surpassing all creeds in importance is the command to love.

John Leith, the late professor from Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, in the 1980s wrote a powerful little book titled The Reformed Imperative. It’s a challenge to fundamentalism—on both the left and right wings of the ideological spectrum. We tend to think of fundamentalism as conservative, but it can go either way. And both sides are wrong, according to Leith. Both make too simple distinctions between people. 

“The gospel is hidden from those who in their self-righteousness are proud of their moral achievements,” he wrote. And those “who know that they are righteous by their identification with the proper causes,” yet are vindictive toward others who have different views, whom they desire “to discard, to destroy.”[8] Fundamentalist according to Leith miss the good news.

In other words, those who think they’re religious, yet who do not love, find the gospel hidden. And those who make a big deal about their faith, but do not love, miss the gospel’s truth. And those who are proud of their righteousness, but hold others in disdain, miss the good news. Leith, writing about the church in the late 1980s, could also have been writing about churches today. And he could have been writing about Ephesus in the first century. 

The Ephesians felt so good about their success in rooting out evil that they became self-assured of their righteousness. They forgot what’s most important. They forgot how to love. In striving to be right, they missed the gospel and became what they abhorred, heretics and hypocrites.

The dilemma of the church in Ephesus remains within the church today. How can we, the church, remain faithful to the truth while loving all people? It’s a tough challenge. Often someone quotes the cliché, “love the sinner, hate the sin.” But the tone of their voice makes me wonder if there is really love for the sinner. If we don’t love, despite right beliefs, we fall into the same trap as the Ephesians. 

Many of you, I’m sure, remember the old Wendy’s commercial. A grandmother-looking lady shouts, “Where’s the beef?” The implications being a hamburger joint is judged by the amount of beef between the two halves of the bun. Likewise, the church is judged, not so much by our orthodoxy, but by our love. Where’s the love? That’s what we need to ask, that’s the way our faith is evaluated. Do we love one another? 

Remember Sam Jones’ comments about not being able to follow a creed because “it ain’t got any legs.” What’s important is following Christ. We follow him who loved even his enemies and those who nailed him to the cross. Don’t get so hung up on making sure that everything is proper, and everyone acts up to our expectations. While proper thinking and right actions are important, it’s more important that we as a community love God and one another. Amen.      

[1] Kathleen Minnix, Laughter in the Amen Corner: The Life of Evangelist Sam Jones (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1973).  Jokes and information on Jones from Minnix and from Doug Adams, Humor in the American Pulpit from George Whitefield through Henry Ward Beecher (Sharing, 1992). 

[2] G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 28. 

[3] For a detail discussion on the nature of each message see M. Eugene Boring, Revelation: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1989), 85-97. 

[4] Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, revised edition (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 67

[5] Acts 19:21ff

[6] Matthew 7:3-5. 

[7] 1 John 4:7

[8] John H. Lieth, The Reformed Imperative: What the Church Has to Say that No One Else Can Say (Louisville: Westminster,1988), 60-61.  

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HopeWords 2025

title slide with photo of The Granada Theater

This is my third trip to Bluefield, West Virginia for the HopeWords Conference, which is held in the beautifully restored Granada Theater. This year’s theme was “Writing in the Dark.” I have also attended this conference in 2022 and 2023. Unlike the other years, probably because I wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t take many photos.

Bluefield is an interesting setting to discuss hope and writing, as the city has struggled in recent years. At one time, Bluefield was a happening place, as Travis Lowe, the founding director of HopeWords loves to tell. Lowe grew up in Bluefield and while he currently lives in Oklahoma, he still considered Bluefield home. While coal mining was just a bit west of Bluefield, the city grew as a supply point for the mines and for the railroads that served the mines. Still today, cars of coal are built up in the Bluefield rail yard to be hauled to distant locations to “make the electricity to light up the world.” 

I had only two complaints about this year’s conference. Neither had anything to do with the conference and everything with my enjoyment of the event. The first had to do with the pollen count in the air. It was at an all-time high. My head pounded. I just wanted to sleep, which was hard because of sinus drainage causing me to wake as I coughed. The second was the replacement of the flooring in the hotel I stayed. In previous ones, I stayed in Princeton, about fifteen miles away, and the hotels were nicer. This time, I stayed in a Quality Inn in Bluefield, Virginia, about seven miles away. The hotel was older and will be nice once the remodeling is done, but for now is under construction. 

Christian Wiman

 Wiman served as the main speaker this year. The last conference I attended, in 2023, featured Miroslav Volf, a theologian from Yale. In introducing Wiman, Lowe noted that when Volf was the featured speaker, he confessed that he wasn’t worthy and recommended his colleague at Yale, Wiman. While Volf had much to add to the conference, it was a pleasure to hear Wiman, an excellent poet.  

In Wiman’s opening lecture, he discussed faith and God, in contrast to religion. We only experience a fraction of God, yet we don’t have to name God for God to be God.  God is always God. And our faith needs to be growing, as we put away our childhood and silly notions of the divine. 

On the second day of the conference, Wiman and Lowe had a conversation. For some reason, I assumed (wrongly) that Wiman was European. He grew up in Texas, raised by parents who were first poor, then his father became a physician. He told about attending First Baptist Church in Dallas and writing a poem which first line went, “I love the Lord and He loves me.” He gave the poem to Criswell, the pastor, who had it published in the Baptist Standard. Wiman joked that his first poem was published when he was eight.

Hannah Anderson

 Anderson was the first speaker on Saturday morning. This was a shame as I found her insights some of the best at the conference. Most attendees (myself included as I was five minutes late) missed the opening of her talk. Focusing on the conference theme, she spoke about a personal time of crisis (darkness) in which she felt she would never write again. She discussed the need to give herself permission to write again. She also reminded us how, in darkness, we can use other senses to experience the world. But she warned writers not to give too much artificial light into a dark situation. She closed with an essay of hers on Psalm 74, where she acknowledges that God creates light but doesn’t obliterate darkness. 

I had read one of her books, Humble Roots, a few years ago. I picked up her book, All That’s Good, from the conference bookstore and recently read and reviewed it.  I look forward to hearing wonderful things from my congregation about her as she’s scheduled to preach for me on June 22.

Karen Swallow Prior

This is Prior’s third appearance at HopeWords. Like Wiman, I’ve also seen her at Calvin’s Festival of Faith and Writing. She began discussing her upcoming book on “calling,” and then gave suggestions for those wanting to be writers:

1. Study language.
 2. Read good words by others.
 3. Seek honest feedback. 
4. Writing is not the same as publishing. 
5. Journal, it’s a place for you to record and work out ideas and you may have them burned after your death. 
6. If you want to write to feel good about yourself, do something else. Writing is humbling.
7. Don’t write to make a living. While Prior is making money from writing, it’s only after 30 years of teaching in universities. 
8. Do the writing you’re called to do. 

Dr. Derwin Gray

Gray and his wife pastor Transformation Church outside of Charlotte, NC and has published several books. I am currently reading his book, How to Heal Our Racial Divide: What the Bible Says, and the First Christians Knew, About Racial Reconciliation. 

As an African American, Gray attended Brigman Young University on a football scholarship. He later played five years for the Indianapolis Colts and a year for the Carolina Panthers. As he introduced himself, he joked that NFL meant, “Not For Long,” for most players only make it a few seasons. During his fifth year in Professional Football, another teammate led him to Christ. Since he retired from football, he has attended seminary and done doctoral work. 

Gray began by telling his story. Much of his early years were spent in special education. He also didn’t grow up in church but, as he proclaims, “God loves to use the ordinary to do extraordinary things.” His talk resembled more of a sermon, mostly based on Psalm 23, with a lot of one-line zingers. “ 

“God is not a microwave. He’s more like a crockpot.”
“Our challenge: May our lives be better than our books.”
“Fight for your readers.”
“David defeated a giant but lost to lust.”
“All of life is worship.”
“Let your ink pen become a means of grace.”
and from the Roman philosopher Cicero: “The greatest form of revenge is not to become like your enemies.”

We had a long lunch hour, and I went back to the hotel and slept, causing me to miss the S. K. Smith, the afternoon’s first speaker. 

Dr. Craig Keener

A professor at Asbury Theological Seminary, Dr. Craig Keener has been prolific in publishing commentaries on the Bible. While I have a decent commentary library with two or more commentaries on each book in the Bible, I have not read Keener. This cause of this oversight is that I tend to read mainly Reformed commentaries while Keener writes in the Wesleyan tradition. 

Keener began his talk which he titled, “Writing Because It Matters,” with a confession. “I like writing better than speaking because you can edit before it’s public.” Most everyone laughed. He also confessed that it was because of God’s grace that he, someone diagnosed with ADHD, could become a writer. 

Keener discussed his writing journey. From meeting two missionaries in high school, to his first wife leaving him, which locked him out of evangelical circles, he spoke about how writing and dealing with Scripture was forged with struggles.  Fifteen years after his first wife left, he married a woman he met as a missionary in the Congo (she also has a PhD from the University of Paris). Together, they have a book, The Impossible Love.

Keener encouraged the writers in the crowd to remember that they’re not writing for themselves but for Jesus Christ. 

Lewis Brogdon

Like Hannah Alexander and S. K. Smith, the last speaker on Saturday was another HopeWords regular. Lewis Brogdon, like Travis Lowe, is a native of Bluefield. He teaches homiletics at Baptist Seminary of Kentucky but also holds a part-time position at Bluefield College. Brogdon began discussing an upcoming book of his, The Gospel Beyond the Grave: Toward a Black Theology of Hope. While making the point how writing takes time, he suggested that this book had a long gestation period going back to article he read by a Catholic theologian 25 years ago. The theologian suggested that racial reconciliation would happen in purgatory. Of course, Brogdon acknowledged that as a Black Baptist, purgatory isn’t something he believes in, but the article caused him to think. Then, 23 years ago, his father died. These events, while also dealing with recent events in America, led to the book (which I will look forward to reading). 

His theme was how writing can be a place of light, and he discussed how our journeys involve the work and word of God along with our own holy conversations. 

Evening and Sunday morning

Inside Christ Episcopal after the service. I especially like the cork floors (which we have in our new addition at home).

After the final speaker, there was free time where I went back to my hotel and napped. Then I went to an evening reception. I wasn’t hungry and a small plate of hors d’oeuvres sufficed for dinner. I had conversations with a few folks but called it an early evening and headed back to the hotel for bed around 8 PM. On Sunday morning, I attended Christ Episcopal, where Amanda Held Opelt, who’d provided music between speakers at the conference, preached. Her text was from John 12:1-8 was on Mary of Bethany, the sister of Lazarus and Martha. 

First Presbyterian Church, Bluefield WV
First Presbyterian Church, across from Christ Episcopal. Like most of the large downtown churches in Bluefield, they have lots of extra space. I recently learned that the Presbyterians have converted part of their extra space into bunk rooms for those coming in to volunteer for mission work in Appalachia.

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John’s Vision of the Resurrected Christ

Title Slide with photos of the two rock churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
May 4, 2025
Revelation 1:9-20

Sermon recorded on Friday, May 2, 2025, at Bluemont Church

At the beginning of worship: 
We began our tour of the opening chapters of Revelation last Sunday. I devoted a bit of time in that sermon discussing the term used in verse 4, “Grace and Peace.” 

I discovered something else about this term from a book I’d read almost 40 years ago. I’d forgotten this. The book I pulled off my shelf and reviewed is titled Comfort and Protest: The Apocalypse from a South African Perspective. Allan Boesak wrote it at the height of apartheid in his country. He drew on ancient Roman historians, to point out that this familiar greeting for Christians was also used by the Caesars. 

But the message from Caesar, while proclaiming grace and peace, might lack it. Domitian, the emperor under whose reign some think Revelation was written, would always include these words in introductions to his proclamations, including those calling for a death sentence against his foes.[1]

For the faithful in the first century, they had to ask themselves under whose grace they wanted to live. Would it be the “grace of Caesar, whose ‘mercy’ might spell death, destruction, and inhumanity’”? Or would it be the grace of God who frees us from fear and sin and saves us from death? Under whose grace do we live?

Before reading the Scripture
Today, we’ll look at John’s first vision in Revelation, where he sees Christ. This is the beginning of the letter to the seven churches. What we looked at last week was the salutation, the opening which was a common form for letters in the first century. 

The body of John’s letter begins with a vision. This isn’t something uncommon.  A vision kicked off the prophetic ministries of Isaiah and Ezekiel.[2] It also kicks off John’s ministry. It’s awesome, yet it draws on a similar vision of the prophet Daniel. Overwhelmed, John falls as if he’s dead. But Christ lifts him up and by the time this opening vision ends, John is ready to begin writing what he has seen. Let’s listen to what John sees and hears his first vision:

Read Revelation 1:9-20
“I’m one of you,” John begins. He assures those who listen to his letter that he is their brother. John shares with them in persecution, in the hope for the coming kingdom, and in their endurance. 

Furthermore, John preaches the gospel. And this preaching got him into trouble. He has been exiled to Patmos, a small rocky island some 75 miles east of Ephesus. There is no evidence the island was an Alcatraz, a prison for hardcore convicts.[3] Instead, it seems to have been a place where the Romans sent troublemakers, knowing they’d be out of sight and not too much territory to get into mischief. 

For John, this meant he lost his congregation and the ability to reach other communities with his preaching. But now, through this vision, God speaks through John by letter. 

John tells us this vision happened on the Lord’s Day, a day when he would normally be gathering with other believers for worship. But in exile, he not able to do this. So, Christ comes to him, beginning with a loud voice with the blast like a trumpet saying, “Write this and send it to the seven churches.”

John turns to see where the voice is coming from, and he sees seven golden lampstands. Standing in the middle of these candlesticks is one who resembles the Son of Man, in other words Christ. This is not the Jesus John knew in Galilee. This is the resurrected Christ in all his glory. The candlesticks represent the church that is to bring light into a darken world.[4] And Christ, standing in the middle, reminds us that he’s always with the church, even during times of persecution and danger.[5]

The vision of the Son of Man is like the one Daniel experienced.[6]Clothed with a long robe with a golden sash across his chest, his hair has turned white. While this may sound like Jesus had prematurely aged, the whiteness probably means purity. His eyes appear to have fire in them and his voice sounds like the rapids of a raving river. 

Instead of taking this vision literally, each part is symbolic. The sharp two-edged sword from his mouth draws upon John’s gospel and the Book of Hebrews. In John’s gospel, Jesus is the Word become flesh.[7] In Hebrews, we’re reminded God’s word is a sharp two-edged sword.[8] In his hands he holds the seven stars. Again, as with the candlestands, the seven implies perfection. These stars represent the angels watching over the seven churches. Starting next week, we’ll see each church receives an individual message within the larger letter. The churches are not perfect.[9] But they can be made perfect in Christ. 

The feet of the Son of Man are bronze in John’s vision. 

Again, this leads us back to the Book of Daniel. Nebuchadnezzar had a dream of a similar being, except that its feet were clay. When struck at the feet, the entire statue falls and shatters into pieces. Daniel interpreted this dream for the King of Babylon.[10]

The vision in Daniel reminds us of the limitations of people and human organizations. Sooner or later, not only do we, but also our institutions, come to an end. Here, the feet of Christ are different. Bronze is made by combining iron and copper. Iron is strong but will rust. Copper won’t rust but is soft and pliable. But when forged together into bronze, the metals take the best from each to create an enduring material.[11]  

The feet of the comic Christ are not clay. They will stand while human organizations, sooner or later, will fail. 

Some suggest the stars in Jesus’ hands presents an anti-astrology message. Instead of looking at the stars for the fate of the world, Jesus’ hands hold its fate. It’s also challenges the Roman Empire. The true cosmic leader is not the emperor but Christ.[12]

While the vision of Christ draws on images of God, John doesn’t make Jesus and God two competing entries. Instead, John reminds us that God is revealed in Jesus Christ.[13]  

This vision overwhelms John. He falls as if dead. But Christ reaches out to lift him up and, as we often hear in Scripture when there is a divine or angelic encounter, John is told not to be afraid. Again, as we heard last week, Christ identifies himself as the first and last (or the A and Z).[14]

Here we have a connection between the cosmic Christ and the earthly one, for he announces that he was dead (and remember, John was at the foot of the cross to watch[15]), but he is now alive forever. The cosmic Christ assigns John a task. He’s to write what he has and will see. He’s also given clues to what he has seen, the symbolic meanings of the stars and lampstands.

What might we take from this passage? Can we find comfort in these words? Certainly, we can, if we follow Jesus. We are reminded, even when going into persecution, that he is with us. Jesus Christ, who remains with his church, is in control today and always. Regardless of what happens in this life, and bad things can happen, Jesus resides with us. In the life to come, we’ll reside with him. Thanks be to God. Amen. 

[1] Allan A. Boesak, Comfort and Protest: The Apocalypse from a South African Perspective (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1987), 47. 

[2] Isaiah 6 and Ezekiel 1. 

[3] Some have suggested Patmos was a prison, but most scholars disagree and see it mostly as a place of exile.  See Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, Revised (1977, Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997),54 (especially note #5).

[4]  Mounce, 57; Bruce M. Metzger, Breaking the Code: Understanding the Book of Revelation (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1993), 26. . 

[5] G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), 25. 

[6] Daniel 7:9-10.

[7] John 1:14. 

[8] Hebrews 4:12. 

[9] See Revelation 2 and 3. 

[10] Daniel 2:31-35.  See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/08/22/gods-wisdom-vs-human-wisdom/

[11] Eugene H. Peterson, Reversed Thunder: The Revelation of John and the Praying Imagination (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988), 35-36. 

[12] M. Eugene Boring, Revelation: Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: JKP, 1989), 84. See also Mounce, 57. 

[13] Boring, 83. See also John 1:18 and 14:9.  

[14] See Revelation 1:4 and 1:8. See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2025/04/27/the-beginning-of-revelation/

[15] John 19:20. Some question John of Patmos being different than John of the gospel, but I disagree as their topics are too similar. 

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Reviews of my April Readings

title slide with book covers

Timothy Egan, A Fever in the Heartland: The Ku Klux Klan’s Plot to Take Over America, and the Woman Who Stopped Them 

Cover of A Fever in the Heartland

(2023, Penguin Books, 2024), 404 pages including index and notes on sources. 

A Personal note: In late 2010, I was visiting with Earl, a parishioner of First Presbyterian Church of Hastings (Michigan), who was dying.  Earl was 96 years old and had lived in Hastings since 1950. Another friend of Earl’s, who was also in his 90s, was present. I no longer remember his name, but I remember that he had grown up in Hastings and was Catholic. The man talked about coming back into town with his father, from a trip to Grand Rapids. On a field outside of the town there was a large cross burning and a huge crowd of men in white robes. His father immediately ordered him to get on the floor of the car. Fright took over his father (and him).   In the 1920s, the Klan was popular in the heartland, as Egan reminds us.  

My review:  Does character matter? Do we expect our leaders to adhere to moral standards? These are questions we should ask ourselves. After all, in the past decade, we’ve had the “me too” movement, which lead to many resignations of politicians, preachers, educators, and others in positions of leadership. Then, in a backlash, none of it seem to matter as we elect to office those convicted of sexual offenses.  The appointment of others despite moral failures including sex and drug abuse and alcoholism occur.  In a way, reading Egan’s book about a situation in the 1920s, makes me wonder what has changed. If anything, this book just makes another case proving human depravity. 

In the early 1920s, D. C. Stephenson arrived in Indiana. Within two years, he would become the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan of the state. By the mid-20s, Indiana had the most Klan members (by percentage of population) of all the states. The Klan was no longer strictly a southern institution. Many municipalities even in the heartland already had “sundown laws,” which barred African Americans after the sunset. The Klan was also strong in Colorado and Oregon. 

The growth of the Klan in the 1920s was racist, just like the Southern Klan during Reconstruction. But they had broadened their racial views to include immigrants from Eastern Europe, especially Catholics and Jews. In the West, they added Asians to those they saw as a threat to American values. Notre Dame University became a big target in Indiana. Egan suggests that their mascot, “The Fighting Irish” came not from their undefeated football team, but the students battling the Klan who held a rally in South Bend. 

In addition to racial hatred, the Klan of the 1920s encouraged the purity of white women and supported prohibition. While the Klan was men-only, there were significant numbers of auxiliary groups for women and children.  

In Indiana, the Klan held power. They donated to both political parties and to churches with whom they sought to ally in their vision of an idolized America. They owned the governor and legislatures and local officials. People assumed Stephenson would eventually fil an empty Senate seat. The Klan was thinking big, including having eyes on the Presidency. 

But for the Klan leadership in Indiana, especially for Stephenson, the rules didn’t apply. He was a masochist and felt women were his for the taking. He used intimidation to silence women he abused. Also, with his close supporters, he not only drank, but drank to excess. 

When Stephenson set his eyes on Madge Oberholzer, an attractive young woman who’d asked for his help for her job with the state, things swirled out of control. She resisted his advances. He kidnapped her. When she made it back home, she was dying. He had not only brutally beaten her but had also severely bitten her all over her body. When she couldn’t escape, she attempted suicide. 

As she lay dying from her abuse, she dictated a statement which was notarized as her testament, a legal maneuver which allowed her to “speak from the grave,” into a court of law.  His friend, the sheriff, arrested Stephenson. But instead of eating jailhouse food, the sheriffs wife cooked his food.

Stephenson and two associates went to trial. The trial began after a lot of legal maneuvering over what could and couldn’t be admissible as evidence. While the court didn’t allow several additional women to testified of their rapes by Stephenson, it also kept out of court Stephenson’s past included an abandoned wife and child. While Stephenson’s followers attempted to bride officials and jury, the jury returned a verdict of guilty of second-degree murder.  

The trial brought to the public’s attention the hypocrisy of the Klan’s leadership. In the aftermath of the trial, the Klan in Indiana declined almost as fast as it had risen. 

Americans should read this book. The use of “American enemies” to cause a groundswell against the “others” is nothing new. Thankfully, in the 1920s, folks like Madge Oberholzer and a few brave newspapers, ministers, academics, and politicians stood fast against the rising intolerance. It’s never fun to be the one who speaks out, but speaking out is important. 

Hannah Anderson, All That’s Good: Recovering the Lost Art of Discernment 

Cover of "All That's Good"

(Chicago: Moody Publishing, 2018), 215 pages including study questions for each chapter and source notes.

I became acquainted with Anderson’s work through the HopeWords Writer’s Conference in Bluefield, West Virginia, which I have attended three times. Anderson is a regular at the conference and one of the ones who works behind the scenes to put the conference on each year. (Soon, I hope, I’ll post a review of this year’s conference).  I am also looking forward to hearing good things about her when she preaches for me this June (sadly, I’ll be out-of-state that Sunday). 

This book is divided into three parts. The first part deals with what’s good and why we should seek it out. In part 2, Anderson approaches discernment using Paul’s exhortations at the end of Philippians. Drawing on verses 8 and 9, she works through the verses dealing with “whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely and commendable. In Part 3, she looks at the meaning of the good and how we’re to work through a community for the common good. 

Anderson writing is a pleasure to read. She draws on her own memories to illustrate her points. I recommend this book to those interested in fostering a world where we celebrate the good, the beautiful, and the empathic.  This is the second book I’ve read by Anderson. The first, Humble Roots, I reviewed in 2022.

Pat Conroy, The Great Santini 

(1976, HarperAudio 2023), 18 hours and 4 minutes. 

It’s 1960. Having just returned to America from a stint in the Mediterranean, Bull Meacham is given the command of his own Marine Corp Fighter Squadron in Ravenell, SC. He meets up with his family in Atlanta, where they had been staying with his wife (Lillian) family. They then make a long early morning drive across Georgia and South Carolina. That drive seems to take forever, but in it we get to experience characteristics of Bull and his family. None of his children want to move, especially Ben, who will be a senior in high school. They’ve all been through this drill of having to make friends again. 

Ben quickly makes two friends. One is a Jewish boy whom he comes to his aid during a fight and the other is a stuttering young African American man who raises flowers, produce, and honey as well as collecting oysters and gigging flounder for a living. Sadly, Ben loses both friends. The Jewish boy’s family sends him for safety while another white boy kills the African American. 

While this goes on, Ben finally beats his father in one-on-one basketball. Bull’s lost didn’t go over well. His father, the Great Santini, fears getting older. He also fears changes to his beloved Marine Corps, that they’re losing their toughness.  A few characteristics of his father became grating by the end of the book. When he would enter the home, he’d shout, “Stand by for a fighter pilot.” He would call those he’s talking to, “Sports Fans.” 

Ben finds his place in high school on the basketball team. He becomes the star, but his father comes to a game drunk and encourages Ben to take out a kid on the opposing team he’s guarding. Ben snaps and breaks the boys arm, which ends with him kicked off the team for the remaining of the season. When Ben turns 18, his father takes him to the officer’s club. Ben comes home drunk, like his father, ruining the planned family dinner that evening. 

This book touches on many themes. Child and spouse abuse, father/son relationships, coming of age, race relationships, life in a small southern town in the early 1960s, and the Yankee/Southern conflict (Bull was from Chicago and Lillian from the South). The story is fictionalized, but Conroy draws on his famil experiencesy. I have heard his novel didn’t go over well in his family and I can see why.  In real life, the Great Santini didn’t die as he does in the book (which I left out of the book as it would be a spoiler). Conroy later wrote a nonfiction book about his father titled The Death of Santini. 

I enjoyed the story. The book is easy to follow. Conroy tells it in a chronological fashion. There are similar themes to the other Conroy books I’ve read (Prince of the Tides, The Water is Wide, and South of Broad). All these books center on the Low Country of South Carolina. Thoese (except for The Water is Wide) were published later in Conroy’s life and show a more mature writer.  I have also seen the movie, which came out in 1979, but it’s been decades so I don’t remember enough to compare the book and the movie.

Two Commentaries on the Gospel of Mark

Mark commentaries

James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 550 pages 

Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishers, 1997), 424 pages

For the past sixteen months I have been working my way through the gospel of Mark. I have preached 53 sermons from Mark. At the beginning, I read through one short commentary by Doug Hare, a former professor of mine. Then, I read through these two commentaries as I worked my way through the gospel, finishing both this past month. 

Of the two commentaries on Mark, my favorite would be the one by James Edwards. I first became familiar with his writing with his excellent 2015 commentary on Luke. This commentary on Mark was published 14 years earlier. Both books are a part of the “Pilar New Testament Commentary” series.  This author is very familiar with the early church and the role Mark’s gospel in the early church. I have previously reviewed his book From Christ to Christianity.  My complaint is that the author didn’t do his own translation and seems to mostly depend on the New International Version of the Bible.

The commentary is easy to read and follow. I especially liked Edward’s use of “Mark’s sandwiches”, a literary technique in the second gospel in which two different themes merge into one passage. The first is mentioned, then Mark moves off on what seems to be a tangent as he writes about something else., Then he returns to the first subject. Soon, having been introduced to the concept, I found such constructions even before reading the commentary. By playing the two ideas off each other helps the reader of the gospel to grasp deeper thoughts. 

I also appreciated how Edwards, when things needed more explanation, would insert an “Excursus” to better explain an idea. 

The second commentary by Morna Hooker was republished as a part of Black’s New Testament Commentaries Series.  In this series, the author was expected to provide her own translation, which she does while admitting that she started her work using the New English and Revised Standard Versions of scripture. Hooker is retired but taught at Cambridge (and the commentary does have an “English feel” to it). 

Like Edwards commentary, Hooker’s work is easy to read and understand. Neither commentary gets so far into the weeds that one has difficulty following. With her own translation of the text, Hooker’s work is a welcomed addition to the more traditional types of commentaries. 

In addition to these commentaries, I have also read all or parts of commentaries by Douglas R. A. Hare, Mark: Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1974), Mary Ann Tolbert, Sowing the Gospel: Mark’s World in Literary-Historical Perspective (1989, Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996); Brian K. Blount, Go Preach! Mark’s Kingdom Message and the Black Church Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Press, 1998), and David Rhoads and Donald Michie, Mark as Story: An Introduction of the Narrative of a Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982). 

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The beginning of Revelation

title slide with photo of the two churches the sermon is to be preached

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
April 27, 2025
Revelation 1:1-8

The sermon was recorded at Mayberry on Friday, April 25, 2025.

At the beginning of Worship
In 1993, we took the train out west. I was invited to interview with the Pastor Nominating Committee for Community Presbyterian Church in Cedar City, Utah. We decided to make it a vacation. I took two weeks off, spending time exploring old mining towns like Pioche, Nevada along with Bryce Canyon, Zion Canyon, and the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.  While I didn’t know it at the time, I would spend the next decade living in that area.

After our trip was over, we got back on the train in Las Vegas.[1] Exhausted, Iwent to sleep soon afterwards. Around 4 AM, I noticed we weren’t moving. It was dark out and I couldn’t see much. I assumed we were on a siding waiting for a freight train to pass. 

A little after 6 AM, I got up and went to the lounge car for coffee. We still hadn’t moved, and I was curious about what had happened. I asked the car attendant. He said we’d “died on the line.” I wasn’t familiar with this term and asked what it meant. It refers to the operating crew (the engineers and conductors) exceeding the hours they can legally work. When this happens, standing orders requires them to pull their train onto the first available siding and wait for a replacement crew. We were in remote area of the Black Rock Desert of Utah this morning. It took them 4 hours to get a crew to us. 

Then, as this was a year of terrible flooding in the mid-west, they’d lowered the speed limit along much of the line because the ground was so soft. By then, we were running too late to make our connection in Chicago. The tempers of passengers ran little thin. Yet, the car attendances did everything they could to make the trip pleasant. When the dining car ran out of food (since they had two more meals to serve than planned), we stopped in some small town in Iowa. A van waited beside the tracks, filled with boxes of Kentucky Fried Chicken. 

They assured us they’d be someone to help in Chicago with alternative transportation or hotels. On top of it all, they remained calm and pleasant at during a trying situation. 

Those of us who make up the church need to be like those attendants on that train. We should maintain a positive outlook while we encourage one another and keep out eyes on Jesus. While it may not always appear this way, he has everything under control.

Before reading the scripture:

For the next couple of months, I’m going to be preaching on the first opening chapters of the book of Revelation. Remember, this book is singular. It’s not Revelations, but Revelation.

Sometimes even those who print the Bible call the book “The Revelation of John. That, too, is wrong.

The title of the books in the Bible were added much later. In the opening verse, we learn it’s the Revelation of Jesus Christ to his servant John. 

This book is a letter to the seven churches of Asia. These churches are in what we know today as Western Turkey. 

Read Revelation 1:1-8

As you may have gleamed from my opening story this morning, I love trains. There’s something about being on a train and watching the landscape change. People on trains are not as hurried as they are on airplanes. 

I’ve mentioned before how trains can serve as a metaphor for the Christian journey. Many gospel songs express this. “Life is like a Mountain Railway” has the refrain: “Keep your hand upon the throttle and your eye upon the rail. Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us…” Or the old African American spiritual sung by the likes of Woody Guthrie and Peter, Paul, and Mary, “This train is bound for glory.”

I’ve always thought the long-haul train as an example of our Chrisitan lives. In winter, they assemble trains filled with produce in Southern California. Three days later, the produce is served in restaurants in Chicago. A day later, it’s being sold and served on the east coast. It’s quite amazing. One engineer doesn’t take the train across the nation, over 3,000 miles. Instead, every 8 to 10 hours, a new crew takes over, so that by the time the train pulls into Chicago or New York, a dozen or more crews have been at the controls. 

Christ’s Church operates in a similar way. Pastors come and go. So do elders. So do members. Sometimes the tracks are smooth, and the train makes good time. Other times, curves and hills, mudslides and washed-out ballast, slows the train down. Likewise, with the church, there are times things go well, and other times we struggle. 

When it’s our time to take over the throttle, we must ask ourselves, “Are we being faithful to Jesus Christ?” “Are we doing our best to safely move the train a little further down the track, knowing that we’re a part of something much larger than ourselves? As the church, we’re a part of something eternal, as we see in our morning reading from the Revelation of Jesus Christ. 

The letter proper begins in verse 4, with two words: grace and peace, words I often use at the beginning of worship. The order is important. Grace, which comes from God, is always first and a prerequisite for peace. Without God’s grace, we’d be lost.[2]Without grace, there can be no peace. 

John indicated three sources for this grace and peace. First, it comes from the “Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.” This paraphrases God in Exodus, who revealed himself to Moses as the great “I am who I am.”[3] God is revealed as the eternal one, the one beyond our comprehension. God is creator and present throughout history. The second source comes from the seven spirits. There’s some debate over the meaning of this, but I think there is much merit in the ancient believe that this is a reference to the Holy Spirit. Throughout the Book of Revelation, seven is considered the number of perfection and the seven spirits imply the Spirit’s fulness.[4] The third source of this greeting is from Jesus Christ. 

The three sources of greetings, from God the Father, the Holy Spirit, and Jesus Christ the son provide us with a Trinitarian view of the Godhead. It’s a little strange to have the Spirit ahead of the Son (we usually think of Father, Son, and Spirit[5]), but this construct allows john to slip seamlessly into detail about Jesus Christ, God’s revelation to us.

John tells us Jesus Christ is God’s faithful witness. He reveals God to us and by knowing him, we can know God the Father.[6] Remember, this book was written to churches soon experience persecution. Many believers would die. Many more would die over the next two thousand years for their faith as we saw this month with over 240 deaths of Christians in Nigeria.[7]

Jesus is designated as “firstborn of the dead.” This title encourages those about to face martyrdom, reminding them (and us) that life on earth is temporary. We have eternity to which to look forward. Furthermore, Jesus is the ruler of the kings of the earth. We may live in fear of earthly kings. But we should never forget that one day everyone will be called to account. And just because one has the power of a king on earth and can seemingly do what he or she wants doesn’t mean they’ll not be held accountable for their actions.

John’s description of our Lord continues at a personal level as he reminds his readers (and us) what Jesus has done. “We’re loved, we’re freed from our sin, and we’ve been brought into a kingdom, a family, where we’re established as priests who serve God forever. One of our most important Protestant doctrines is the “Priesthood of All Believers.”[8] As priests, all glory should flow from us to the eternal God.

In verses seven, John refers to Jesus’ return. Going back to his reminder that Jesus is the “King of kings,” we’re further reminded that upon his return everyone (including those who killed him) will see Jesus. Of course, for some, this will cause a great deal of concern and there will be wailing and weeping from those who nailed Jesus to the cross or harmed his followers. 

As I said earlier, Revelation is written as a letter and today, we’re looking at the salutation section. This ends at verse eight, which reflects on what we’ve already heard in verse 4. Jesus is eternal, co-eternal with the Father.[9] I am the Alpha and the Omega (the A and the Z we might translate it). Jesus is Almighty, who was, who is, and who is to come. Later, in Revelation, we’ll see other titles for Jesus, such as the lamb slain who rules in glory.[10]

Jesus’ sacrifice leads to his glory.  And if we follow Jesus, we should not worry about the cost. The benefits will outweigh the costs and the suffering we might endure. In the end, God through Jesus Christ will be victorious and those who follow Jesus will share in the victory. That’s the message of the Revelation. Amen.

[1] At this time, there are no trains through Las Vegas. But in the 1990s, the “Desert Wind” ran from Los Angeles, through Las Vegas, and joined the California Zephyr in Salt Lake City. 

[2] Bruce M. Metzger, Breaking the Code: Understanding the Book of Revelation (Nashville, Abingdon, 1993), 23. 

[3] Exodus 3:14-15. 

[4] See Metzger, 23-24. The idea of this being the Holy Spirit was made in a 6th century commentary on Revelation by Andrew of Caesarea, Commentary on the Apocalypse, 1.4. For alternative interpretations of the seven spirits, see Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, revised (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997), 46-47.

[5] See Matthew 28:19. 

[6] John 14:7.

[7] https://www.christianitydaily.com/news/nigerias-christians-suffer-losses-in-april-death-surpasses-240.html

[8] See “The Second Helvetic Confession,” Presbyterian Church USA, Book of Confession, 5.154. 

[9] Westminster Confession of Faith, VII.1, and The Nicene Creed. 

[10] Revelation 5:12-13. The word “Lamb” appears 29 times in Revelation. 

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A Week on Iona

Photo of author on the isle of Sraffa

To read about my journey from Edinburgh to Iona, click here. The trip involved two trains and two ferries!

Iona Abbey from the water
The abbey from the ferry (on the day we left)

Grasping the rail to hold steady, I stand on the starboard catwalk looking out across the waters. I pull up the hood on my rain jacket.  I could go below, but I want to face the angry sea.  The engines roar and black smoke puffs from the stack as the ferry pulls away from the Flonnphort’s dock.  Moments later, we are in open water.  The north wind whistles through the channel separating Mull from Iona. The pilot steers the boat into the wind, but the waves and tide push us southward.  He increases speed as I spread my legs apart in order to remain upright. The boat rolls back and forth in the waves. 

North end of Iona looking toward Mull
North end of Iona, looking toward Mull

In a few minutes, we’re well out into the channel. The Abbey is clearly visible, standing tall in the shadow of Dun I, the high point on the island.  We’re just the latest travelers, joining a hoard of pilgrims reaching back to the sixth century.  I have no idea what the week will bring, but the roughness of the channel reminds me of the island’s isolation.  The ferry pushes harder as we approach the landing. The pilot steers the boat up into the wind then lands on the ramp.  There is no natural harbor in Iona.  The pilot keeps the engines engaged, keeping the boat in position as the crew lowers the bow ramp.  The two cars onboard are allowed to drive off first, then the two dozen or so of us passengers follow.  The first off the boat get wet when a wave breaks and crashes over the ramp.  The rest of us learn to time our departure, waiting till a lull to move out on the ramp and to quickly make our way to shore.  We’re on Iona.   

The Abbey on Iona with a large Celtic cross

On Pentecost, 563, an Irish abbot named Columba and a group of twelve disciples landed on a pebble covered cove on the south end of Iona. They found on this small island what they were looking for and established a religious community.  At this time, sea travel was easier than traveling overland on non-existent roads. The small island became a center of faith and learning that extended throughout the mainland of Britain and Ireland and surrounding islands.  Some scholars believe the Book of Kells was originally produced here.  Others think the large standing Celtic crosses, so common in Scotland and Ireland, were first carved on this island. 

looking toward Mull
Looking across toward Mull

The religious community thrived on Iona for the next couple hundred years.  People would travel by sea, making a pilgrimage to the island of the saint known as Columba. Scottish Kings sought out the island for burial.  Legend has it that even MacBeth, of Shakespeare’s fame, is buried here.  

Around the tenth century, hostile visitors from the north, the Vikings, arrived.  With their art and wealth, churches and monasteries were attractive targets.  After several raids and the deaths of scores of monks, Iona was abandoned as a center of learning.  Most of the monks moved back to Ireland. 

Augustine nunnery
Augustine nunnery

By the twelfth century, the Viking threat had faded.  The Benedictine Order reestablished the monastery on Iona, building the current Abbey.  They were joined by an Augustine nunnery, whose ruins are just south of the Abbey.  These two continued to thrive till the Scottish Reformation in 1560. Afterwards, the site began to crumble.  But pilgrims and visitors continued to come.

In 1829, Felix Mendelssohn visited and although the seas were rough and he suffered from sea sickness, he was inspired to compose the Hebridean Overture on the nearby island of Staffa.   A “Who’s Who” of British authors also made the trip including John Keats, Robert Lewis Stevenson, naturalist Joseph Banks, Dr. Samuel Johnson, James Boswell, Sir Walter Scott and William Wordsworth

After the abandonment of the monastery, the property came under the control of the Duke of Argyll.  Over time, with the harsh wet climate of Iona, the trusses rotted and the roof caved in. In the 19th Century, George Douglas Campbell, the eighth Duke of Argyll, began restoring the Abbey. Although a devout member of the Church of Scotland (Presbyterian), he allowed a number of different denominations (Presbyterians, Scottish Episcopal and Roman Catholic) to use the site for worship.  Before his death, he deeded the grounds to the Iona Trust which has responsibility today for maintaining the site.  The site is open to all denominations.  Since the 1930s, the site has been operated by the Iona Community which uses it to hold ecumenical worship and to train people to work with the poor around the world.   

puffins
Puffins on Staffa

Those who wish to participate with the community today are expected to spend a minimum of a week on the island.  Guests live as a part of the community, staying in dormitory rooms (six or eight people of the same sex per room). The guests help with the cooking and the cleaning, and participating in morning worship and evening prayers.  The community strives to bring people together from all over the world as a way to foster a better understanding of one another.  Groups meet together for Bible Study as well as to discuss other topics, with plenty of free time to explore the island or to take boat trips around the island or to other islands.  Staffa, a small island with unique geology, known for puffins that nest there in the summer and “Fingal’s Cave” is a popular destination.

Straffa
Straffa landscape

I spend my week on Iona meeting with a group led by two professors of British Universities.  Both are poets.  One teaches English while the other teaches in a seminary.  As for my chores, I am in the kitchen, mostly chopping vegetables.  Although the food is not exclusively vegetarian (we had meat three times during the week), we ate lots of wonderful vegetarian dishes that included roasted root vegetables and thick soups, all prepared from scratch.  

With my spare time I hike around the island.  Daily, generally around sunset (10:30 PM), I hike to the top of Dun I, the high point of the island.  The sunsets are incredible. At night, I can see distant lighthouses. One of the lighthouses was built by Robert Lewis Stevenson’s father in the early nineteenth century to warn boaters of Torran Rocks. This is also the site Stevenson’s chose for the shipwreck in. his book, “Kidnapped.’  I also gaze out on other islands in both the Inner and Outer Hebrides chain.  Twilight seems to go on forever and provides some of the most beautiful light on the island and sea.

Sunset from Dun I, on Iona

Friday is my last day and I, along with many other pilgrims, are leaving on the 8:15 AM ferry.  Its drizzling rain, but calmer than the day I’d arrived. The Iona staff gather at the dock to wish us a safe trip.  Once the ferry lands in Fionnphort, there’s no time to waste.  A bus waits. We load up and ride across the Ross of Mull and Glen More, to Craignure, where we meet another ferry.  It’s nearly an hour over to the mainland, to Oban, where we board a waiting train.

Worship in the Abbey
Worship in the Abbey

Most of those whom I’d spent time with on Iona continue on to Glasgow and home.  But not me.  At Crainlarich, where the Oban branch merges onto the Northwest Highlands mainline, I say my goodbyes to friends and step off the train. Thirty minutes later, I board a northbound train, taking me through Fort Williams and over the Glenfinnan trestle (made famous in the Harry Potter movies), and on to Mallaig where I catch the ferry to the Isle of Skye.  

Magazine cover of Skinnie Magazine in which this story first appeared.

This story originally appeared in The Skinnie, a magazine for Skidaway Island, on September 22 , 2017.

ScotRail

Cl

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Easter Sunday in Mark

Photo of Mayberry and Bluemont Churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
Easter Sunday (April 20th) 2025
Mark 16:1-8

Sermon taped at Bluemont on Friday, April 18, 2024

At the beginning of worship:

During the Kosovo War, a journalist filed a report about ethnic Albanian deportees in Macedonia. He described the rage experienced by Kosovan professors, writers, and other intellectuals who were robbed not only of their homes but also their books, papers, files—their irreplaceable life’s work. “Can such a deep hurt ever heal?” asked a reporter? Their editor, also an Albanian, then told them a story he’d heard as a child:

There was a naughty boy whose father would hammer a nail into a piece of wood every time his son would do something naughty. One day the boy asked why, and when it was explained, the boy decided he would behave better. Each time he did something good his father would remove a nail from the board. Eventually, all the nails came out…. Yes, the nails were gone,” he said. “But the holes always remained.”[1]

In John’s gospel we’re told Jesus’ wounds remained visible even after the resurrection. Thomas, when he heard Jesus was alive, questioned it and proclaimed that unless he felt the holes in his savior’s hands, he wouldn’t believe. And when Jesus next saw Thomas, he invited him to come forward and stick his finger in the holes of his hands and to place his hand in the side where the spear pierced. Thomas then not only believed, he became the first to declare Jesus to be God.[2]  

The resurrected Jesus still had his wounds. So will we, who are wounded in this life. But our wounds will become beautiful. They’re signs of what Paul refers to when he says, “we’ve fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith.”[3] On Easter, let’s remember and celebrate Jesus Christ, the one who leads the way. He’s the one we’re to follow, and who gives us hope for the life and the world to come.  

Before reading the Scripture

Today, we’re completing our time in the gospel of Mark by looking at the original ending of the book. Mark ends at Mark 16:8. Mark’s original ending leaves the reader hanging, wondering what happened. It has been well documented that verses 9 to 20 were added much later than the rest of the book.[4]

Throughout the book, Mark focuses on the life of Jesus and that’s true even at the end. Matthew ends with the resurrected Christ giving the commission to the disciples to go out and establish the church. Luke carries on through Acts, showing the early growth of the church. As John’s gospel nears the ends, Jesus insists that Peter tend Jesus’ sheep.[5] In other words, Peter is to take care of those in the church. 

Mark, on the other hand, primarily focuses on Jesus, his life and death. I think Mark assumes his audience knows Jesus’ the church has been established. What Mark emphasizes throughout the book is that Jesus is God and, when he comes to the Garden of Gethsemane as we saw last week, also human. While Mark has no nativity story like Matthew and Luke, we do learn the truth of the incarnation. In the life of Jesus, God becomes a man. 

Mark provides less details of Jesus’ resurrection than the other gospels. We don’t hear of Jesus appearing to Mary, at least not right away.[6] There’s no race between Peter and John to the tomb.[7] Nor are their guards placed at the door of the tomb to make sure no one takes Jesus’ body.[8] Instead, Mark just gives the bare details and leaves it up to us to interpret. Let’s hear. 

Read Mark 16:1-8

Our reading begins after the Sabbath. Jesus’ placement into the tomb came as the sun approached the horizon. Once the sun had set, the Sabbath began. The Hebrew calendar begins with the setting of the sun, not the rising. If any of you have seen Fiddler on the Roof, you’ll remember this. For the period after the sunset through the sunset, nothing that wasn’t necessary was to be done. It was a time of rest and meditation. 

When the sun set the next evening, the Sabbath was over. We can imagine at this point; the two Marys and Salome went out as markets opened and purchasing the necessary spices to anoint Jesus body. 

Then, as it was already dark, they wait until the next morning. With the sun having risen, they head to the tomb. Mark makes it obvious, these women assumed Jesus was going to be in the tomb and in need of the perfume as his body would have begun to decay. So, just after sunrise, they go to the tomb wondering how they’ll be able to force the stone away from it. But arriving, they realize the stone has already been rolled away. Bravely, they entered the tomb and Jesus is not there. Instead, there is a young man in white (whom we’re left to assume is an angel, a heavenly Messager). 

In scripture, angels are always telling people to “Fear not,” which doesn’t seem to do a lot of good for fear naturally arises when we experience something like this. He tells the women not to fear and that Jesus, who was crucified, has now been raised from the dead. He invites them to look at where he’d been laid. At the end of the day, before the Sabbath, the woman had watched as Joseph placed Jesus into his tomb.[9] Now they see he’s gone. 

Next, they’re told to tell the disciples and Peter (perhaps Peter is mentioned by name because he had denied Jesus three times the morning of Jesus’ trial) that Jesus will meet them in Galilee.  

This is too much for the women for they run out of the temple in terror and amazement, forgetting to tell anyone what they’d seen. Of course, that begs the question, how do we know about Jesus and his resurrection? 

Brian Blount, a retired professor from Union Seminary in Richmond, offers an interpretation here that is unique. Brian finds the key in the command to go back to Galilee, where Jesus began his ministry. He sees this important, go back to the beginning, in which Jesus began with the claim that God’s kingdom has come near.[10]  And it’s up to the reader to take up the call to preach the good news.[11]

We’re the ones who called to proclaim what God has done for us through Jesus Christ, who died for our sin and who is resurrected, providing us hope in the life to come. The burden of the gospel is shifted to us, to the church, to offer hope to the world. 

Over the past sixteen months, I have been preaching through the Gospel of Mark. I did this to encourage you to look seriously at the life of Jesus. We’re all called to follow him and to be his disciples. In Mark, there is a distinction between “the twelve” and the disciples. The 12 are the inner core. But disciples are men and women who follow Jesus. And we’re included in the list of disciples. What have we learned about Jesus from Mark which we should use to mold our lives in his image? 

Unlike Luke or John, Mark provides no reason for his gospel. Some have thought that with the Apostles dying, Mark felt it necessary to provide a portrait of Jesus for the Hellenistic or Greek world which surrounded the Mediterranean Sea. This Mark does with his fast pacing, as he captures moments of Jesus’ ministry, even showing Jesus’ irony and how he surprises people.[12]

Others suggested Mark is one long passion narrative with an extended introduction.[13] I see a value in such an understanding, especially since in the early church, to claim the death of your hero as one crucified went against common perception of the cross.[14] Instead of seeing the cross showing the brutal power of Rome to deal with its enemies, real and perceived, the cross becomes the symbol of the church who follows the crucified one.  

Finally, as we’ve seen throughout, the gospel is about Jesus. Only two passages in Mark are about anyone else; both are about John the Baptist, whose role was to point to Jesus. And we’re to be about Jesus. As followers of Jesus, we celebrate his resurrection, but we also look to him to see how we should live. Amen. 

[1] New York Times, April 26, 1999, as quoted by Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ(Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015), 115. 

[2] John 20:24-27. 

[3] 2 Timothy 4:7.

[4] I spoke more about the various endings of Mark last Easter. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/03/31/easter-2024/

[5] John 21:15-19.

[6] In the “Longer Ending of Mark,” which was added much later, Jesus does met Mary Magdalene that first day. See Mark 16:9. In verse 8, she flees the tomb. In verse 9, she does go to tell the rest of Jesus’ friends. 

[7] John 20:3ff. 

[8] Matthew 27:62-66. 

[9] Mark 15:40.

[10] Mark 1:14-15.

[11] Brian K. Blount, Go Preach! Mark’s Kingdom Message and the Black Church Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1998), 188-189. 

[12] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 12.

[13] Douglas R. A. Hare, Mark: Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), 7-8. 

[14] Robert H. Gundry, in his 1993 commentary on Mark, takes this approach. Hare, 6.

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Holy Week Sermons

title slide with photos of Mayberry and Bluemont Churches

The first sermon was preached at the second night of the Carroll County Ministerial Association’s Holy Week Services held at the Hillsville VFW. The second service was held at the Maundy Thursday Service at Mayberry Church.

Jeff Garrison
Carroll County Ministerial Association’s Holy Week Service
April 14, 2025
Mark 14:53-72

For the past fifteen months, I have been preaching through the Gospel of Mark. I’m about done with the book. I’m in the middle of Jesus’ passion right now, so my sermon today will focus on Jesus before the Sanhedrin.

For preachers here, preaching through a book is a great way to both allow yourself to go deeper into the Word while also taking your congregation along with you. When you work through an entire book, you see connections often missed by skipping around. 

Our passage involves the events right after Jesus’ arrest, when he is taken from the Garden to the Sanhedrin. The leaders of the Jews have hatched a plan to do away with Jesus. What might we learn from this slice of the events that happened to Jesus during his passage?

In the garden, Mark tells us Jesus was abandoned by all his followers. He’s alone to face what is ahead, as we see in this passage. 

One of the literary techniques Mark uses throughout his gospel can be referred to as a sandwich. Mark will take two different ideas or stories and place them together. The two slices of bread deal with the same subject. In the text I’ll read, this involves Peter who follows Jesus from a distance and then betrays him. In our passage, the meat of the sandwich, between the two slices, is the story of Jesus before the Sanhedrin.

Let us pray: Open our ears to hear you speaking, O God. Open our minds to understand, our hearts to know your truth, our eyes to see the needs of others, and our hands and mouths to work for and speak out on their behalf. Amen. 

Read Mark 14:53-72

I wonder if there is a magnet inside of me which draws me into jury pools. I have lost count on how many times I have been called to serve, but it’s at least a dozen. I’ve even been called up twice to the big leagues-federal court. But for some reason, partly my profession and the people I know (like defense attorneys), I’ve only served on a jury once. 

I was a senior in college when I received my first summons for jury duty. I didn’t think it was fair and tried to get out of it. They gave me an option. I could either serve my jury time during Spring Break, or I could serve the dates scheduled. I chose the latter because I wasn’t willing to give up my last spring break.; I do have my priorities.

On that Monday morning, I was in the New Hanover County Courthouse. They had several courtrooms, and we assigned to different rooms where lawyers asked us questions to decide if we’d be a fair candidate for the jury. In my first room, they pointed out the defendant charged with selling weed and asked if any of us knew him. I raised my hand and acknowledged we had some classes together in high school. I didn’t let on that I barely knew the guy. 

Being dismissed, I thought my lucky day had arrived. I wanted to be done and to go back to school and get on with my life. But instead, the judge sent me to another courtroom. In this new courtroom, they were trying to seat a jury for a murder trial. This time, I didn’t know any of the people involved. The next thing I knew I was sitting in the jury box—where I remained the rest of the week. 

And while I missed some classes, I learned a lot in those five days. There were lots of time we sat in the deliberation room while attorneys, I assume, argued things out before the judge. But it was an orderly trial. The prosecutor laid out their case, the defense challenged much of it, and the judge charged us with bringing back a verdict on just the facts we’d heard. The trial took three days, and we spent a day in deliberation. In the end, we found the man innocent. The state had not proved its case. 

There are some great things about American jurisprudence which we should never take for granted. First, we are innocent until proved guilty. The second is due process. The government is not supposed to deprive us of property or liberty without proving their case in a court of law. And finally, we’re not to be like Jesus, alone before the court of law. We can hire an attorney for counsel and if we can’t afford one, the state must provide us with proper counsel. We should be thankful for these ideals and fight for them. 

But it’s not always been this way. It certainly wasn’t this way when Jesus was tried. Mark gospel informs us early in the 3rd chapter, after Jesus healed a man on the Sabbath, that there were those out to have him killed. At first, it’s the Pharisees and the Herodians, those Jews who supported Roman control. This created an unholy alliance to do in Jesus. The Pharisees were strict on the law and didn’t want anything to do with gentiles, while the Herodians were, so to speak, in bed with the occupiers. These two dissimilar groups found agreement on the notion that Jesus had to go.

Following his entry into the city, which we celebrated yesterday with Palm Sunday, Jesus cleansed the temple. He chased out the money exchangers and those selling sacrificial animals, Mark tells us the Sanhedrin—the top Jewish leadership which consisted of the chief priests, scribes, and elders—decided then they needed to do something. But they weren’t sure what to do until or even how to identify Jesus. After all, for the Passover, pilgrims poured in.  Jerusalem swelling the numbers of people upwards of a quarter million. In a day before photos, how do you pick Jesus out of the crowd?

But then, they couldn’t believe their luck.  Judas came knocking on their door, offering to betray Jesus. We know the story. After enjoying the Passover feast with the disciples, Jesus heads to Gethsemane to pray. There, Judas leads arm guards from the Sanhedrin to arrest Jesus.   

It’s often pointed out by Biblical scholars the inconsistencies with Jesus’ trial when compared to Biblical and rabbinical law. Before someone could be deprived of their life, the Bible requires two witnesses. And perjury, or lying in court, was so serious that one guilty of it would be subject to the same punishment fitting a guilty verdict for the one on trial. Furthermore, the trials were to be held during the day, not during the night. And had to be over two days, not on just one day. This was to discourage the ramrodding of a guilty verdict. Requiring a second day in court hopefully allowed time for better judgment to prevail.  

Jesus trial before the Sanhedrin was a travesty of justice. The leaders had already made up their mind. Those called as witnesses didn’t agree with each other, which should have been grounds for the judge to throw the case out of court. But not in this kangaroo court. Some recall Jesus saying he’d destroy the temple, which at this point had been under construction for decades. It wouldn’t be completed for another three decades. And that, once destroyed, he’d built another temple, not made with hands, in three days. But even here, their testimony didn’t agree. 

Jesus stands silent through it all. Finally, the high priest stands and ask Jesus if he wanted to say something in response to all this conflicting testimony. Jesus doesn’t need a lawyer, for he knows to remain quiet. This is good advice, don’t give your opponent something to use against you. 

So, the high priest then asks Jesus directly, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” Notice, he doesn’t use God’s name (Yahweh or Jehovah). Nor does he use the word, “God.” The Jews took blasphemy seriously and avoided using any word that might trip them up and lead into such a direction. 

Jesus now answers, admitting that he is the Messiah, and that they will see him sitting at the right hand of Power (notice, Jesus also avoids using the term God). He continues speaking on how they’ll see him coming in the clouds. Jesus avoids any reference to that which could be considered blasphemy according to Old Testament laws. 

However, he does indicate he will be the one sitting in judgment of the Sanhedrin, which I’m sure made them a bit hot under the collar. After all, the Chief Priest identified Jesus as the Messiah, yet he refuses to recognize him. 

Even though Jesus’ response doesn’t meet the criteria of blasphemy outlined in the Old Testament, the High Priest has made up his mind. He pronounces Jesus as guilty and deserving death. At this point, the beating and the mocking begins. Blindfolded, they ask Jesus to prophesy. 

Ironically, the Sanhedrin can’t carry out the death sentence. They must get the approval of the secular authorities. Jesus will be taken to Pilate, the Roman governor.

Next, Mark places the top slice of the bread on the sandwich, by telling us what happens to Peter. We last saw him slipping into the courtyard of the Chief Priest. While Peter keeps his distance, he does take a risk by following Jesus. But when confronted by strangers for having been with Jesus, Peter realizes the danger and three times denies having ever known him.  The crowing of the cock awakens Peter. Ironically, while they taunted Jesus to prophesy, Peter along with Mark’s readers learn that he did prophesy at the Passover table. And his prophecy has come true. Peter has betrayed his Lord. 

It should bother us Jesus had to stand trial all alone. In Matthew 25, in the parable of judgment among the nations, Jesus condemns those who had not visited him while in prison. You know the story. Those condemned defend themselves saying they never knew Jesus had been in prison. Jesus responds, “if you didn’t do it for the least of these, you didn’t do it for me.”[1]

While we can’t change what happened to Jesus, we can make sure that no one else must go through such a trial by themselves. As followers of Jesus, we should speak out against injustice, especially injustices brought upon those unable to help themselves. Otherwise, as Matthew 25 warns, we are like Peter, denying Christ. Amen. 

Commentaries Used: 

Edwards, James R., The Gospel According to Mark, Eerdmans Publishing, 2002.

Hare, Douglas R. A., Mark: Westminster Bible Companion, Westminster/John Knox Press, 1996. 

Hooker, Morna D., The Gospel According to Saint Mark, 1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997. 

[1] Matthew 25:31-46 (especially 45). 

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry Church Maundy Thursday Service
April 17, 2024
Mark 15:1-15

With this sermon, I will have essentially completed my journey through Mark’s gospel.[1] Last year, Palm Sunday and Easter 2024, I preached on Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection in Mark’s gospel. On Easter, this year, I will again look at Mark’s teaching on the resurrection as I attempt to summarize what we’ve learned from this book. 

For our homily this evening, I’m reflecting on the passage you’ve heard from when Jesus was “handed over” to be crucified. Like much of Mark, he’s brief with details at this point. Mark wants his readers to get to the crucifixion and the resurrection. The cross and the empty tomb are essential to our faith.

It is thought Mark wrote his gospel in Rome in the mid-60s, during the reign of Nero. If this is the case, it would have presented some challenges to the author. First, Rome had long ceased being a republic. It was a dictatorship. As such, one had to be careful about criticizing Rome or saying anything that would have put the empire in bad light.  

Second, as I have pointed out many times on our journey through this gospel, Mark was writing for a gentile audience. Many think these reasons led Mark to put the blame of Jesus death more on the Jews than the Romans. 

But crucifixion wasn’t a Jewish punishment, nor could they have carried out such a punishment even if they wanted. It was the Romans who employed this punishment to ensure slaves and those who lived in occupied territories toed the line. The terror of dying on the cross was enough to make anyone wanting to revolt against Rome have second thoughts. It was a grotesque way to die, and the Romans generally allowed the corpses to remain on the cross while the birds picked them off, something which horrified the Jews. Being sensitive to their culture, Rome allowed the bodies to be taken down before sunset.

In a way, both the Sanhedrin and the Roman authorities are responsible for Jesus’ death. The Sanhedrin, who in Mark are referred to as the chief priests, scribes, and elders, saw Jesus as a threat to their position of power. The Romans wanted to tap down the possibility of a revolt and, because they were conquerors, didn’t care much about the people of Palestine. If the crucifixion of Jesus allowed them to get through another Passover without a revolt, so much the better. 

Mark tells us that as soon as it was morning, Jesus was taken to the Pilate. Romans’ rulers generally handled business early in the day. That way, they could have the afternoon free to pursue leisure activities, such as going to the coliseum. It would be like today, politicians doing their work earlier so that when the dew on the greens dried, they could play golf. 

Pilate was the face of Rome from 26 through 37 AD.  While we don’t know a lot about him outside of his time in Judea, there are several sources beyond the gospels which speak of him while he was there.  Not only did he serve as a governor (his actual title was a prefect), but he also served as a judge. Normally, Pilate lived on the coast, in Caesarea Maritima. However, with the Passover pilgrimages flooding in, he moved to Jerusalem to keep his eyes on things. I’m sure handling this complaint from the religious leaders was the last thing he wanted to do.

Before the Sanhedrin, Jesus was charged with blasphemy. The Romans could care less about blasphemy, after all they were mostly pagan, not Jewish. In front of Pilate, they charge him with claiming to be the “King of the Jews.” In the political court, I’m sure Pilate looked at Jesus, who’d already been abused, and shook his head at the thought he was a king. Of course, Jesus is a king, just not the kind Pilate would have recognized. 

As he had done earlier before the Sanhedrin (which I preached on Monday night), Jesus mostly remains silent. When asked if he was the King of the Jews, he only says, “You say so.” With the rest of the charges, he remains quiet, which amazes Pilate. 

Pilate normally released a prisoner for the Passover. Pilate offers the crowd a choice, he can release Barabbas, a rebel and insurrectionist who had committed murder, or Jesus, the King of the Jews. Mark provides an editorial comment here, stating that Pilate had figured out that the Jewish leaders were jealous of Jesus, which is why they were trying to have him killed.  But the crowd, at the priests’ encouragement, cry out for Jesus to be crucified.  Even when Pilate asks if what evil Jesus had done, the crowd only cried louder, Crucify.

Mark shows Pilate giving into the crowd. He releases Barabbas and hands Jesus over to be whipped before being crucified. Mark shows Pilate to be a weak man of political expedience. He gives into the crowd only to keep them from rioting. He has no care for justice. Most likely, he looked down on his subjects in Judea, thinking them all inferior. The same goes for his thoughts about Jesus. While he understood that justice was not being carried out, he probably felt it wasn’t worth the risk. Most likely, he saw the Jews contemptible, but not worth arguing over what’s just.  

Thanks to the Jewish historian Josephus and the Roman historian Philo, we know more about Pilate’s time in Judea. While not as brutal as Nero or Caligula, Pilate could be insensitive and hard-nosed politician. 

Pilate once raised the Roman military standard with its emperor’s bust on the pole inside the holy city of Jerusalem. This incited the Jews who interpreted the act as idolatry. Roman normally tried to be sensitive to local customs like this. The Jews marched to the coast and for five days carried out a non-violent protest in front of his home. Pilate ordered the Roman soldiers to herd the crowd to the stadium and slay them. But when the Jews exposed their necks to the swords, he relented and removed the staff.  

On another occasion, he took money from the temple and built an aqueduct. The Jews protested. This time, the protest ended with a lot of dead Jews.  He again showed brutality when he quelled a Samaritan revolt, which even shocked the Romans and led to his removal from Judea.

When it comes to Jesus, Pilate made a political decision. Who’s going to care what happens to this Galilean.  But he was wrong, and unknowingly, he fulfilled his role in the divine plan. Without mercy, Jesus is led away to suffer death for the life of the world.  

As Christians, we must not be like Pilate. Because we believe God created everyone in the image of God, we should speak out for justice even when it goes against the popular sentiment. For when justice is denied to one, what’s keeps it from being applied to others?  Our God cares for all people, which is why Jesus was willing to pay the price for our sin. In thanksgiving for what God has done for us in Jesus Christ, we should be willing to stand up for justice and mercy. Amen.  

Commentaries Consulted: 

Edwards, James R., The Gospel According to Mark, Eerdmans Publishing, 2002.

Hare, Douglas R. A., Mark: Westminster Bible Companion, Westminster/John Knox Press, 1996. 

Hooker, Morna D., The Gospel According to Saint Mark, 1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997. 

[1] I say essentially, but I did miss Mark’s treatment of the Passover (Mark 14:12-31) due to illness and hope to come back to that passage at a later day. 

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Jesus in the Garden

Title slide with photos of the two churches were the sermon is to be preached

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
April 13, 2025
Mark 14:32-52

Sermon recorded April 11, 2025 at Mayberry Presbyterian Church

At the beginning of worship:  
It’s good to be back, but I can’t say I enjoyed being gone. My thanks to Carol Strickland for preaching for me two weeks ago as I recovered from a nasty stomach bug. I have never been so sick as an adult. I know some of you have also had the bug. My condolences. For the rest of you, avoid it if you can. It’s a terrible way to lose a few pounds. 

Last week, I was scheduled to be away and had lined up Carl Utley to preach. I attended the HopeWords Writers Conference in Bluefield, West Virginia. The speakers were outstanding, but it corresponded to a high pollen count and my head pounded the entire weekend. Hopefully, the worse of the pollen is over… 

Today is Palm Sunday is also known as Passion Sunday. Last year, my passage for the sermon was Jesus’ crucifixion as told by Mark-obviously a sermon on the passion.[1] Since I covered Mark’s recount of Palm Sunday back in November,[2] this Passion Sunday, I want us to focus on Jesus’ time in the Garden of Gethsemane. The Passion of Jesus involves more than the cross. It includes all the events of the last days of his life, from the Passover, through the crucifixion, death, and burial.[3]

I’ve been reading Fleming Rutledge’s The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ over the past week. This is her magus opus, the great work of her career, as she attempts to show how everything about our faith rises and falls at the cross. She’s not the first one to suggest this. The Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “For Jews demand signs and the Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified…”[4]

Sadly, as Rutledge points out, much of American Christianity skips over the crucifixion. We want to go from the parade in Jerusalem straight to the resurrection and skim over Jesus’ agony of the Garden and his suffering on the cross. But when we do that, we miss out what God has and is doing for us. This week, take time to comprehend what God has done for us. As Paul writes, “While we were sinners, Christ died for us.”[5] What does that mean?

Before reading the Scripture:
Today, we’re looking at Jesus’ passion which starts in the Garden of Gethsemane. Gethsemane means olive press. The garden, located in the Kidron Valley, just below the Mount of Olives, would have been the perfect place for such a press. 

Also important for us to understand is that during the Passover, the Jewish pilgrims remained in Jerusalem not only for the evening meal but throughout the night. Because so many people crowded into Jerusalem during this time, a city of 50,000 ballooning to a quarter million by some estimations, they expanded the city’s boundaries beyond the walled areas. They considered Gethsemane and the Mount of Olives a part of the city. However, Bethany, where the disciples had been staying, was outside the boundaries. This is another reason they would not have gone back to where they had lodged during this night. 

The Passover was a celebration meal that lasted for several hours. It would have broken up around midnight after lots to eat and four glasses of wine. The lateness of the hour and the food and drink helps explain what happens in the garden. After the meal, Jesus leads the disciples to Gethsemane. The moon would have been full, as it was the Passover. 

Furthermore, we can imagine groups of the faithful sitting around fires around the city, after having celebrated earlier in the evening. This provides the setting for the events that take place as we’ll hear. 

Read Mark 14:32-52

Our passage displays the faithfulness of Jesus and the lack of faith of the disciples. But Jesus’ decision to remain faithful out of obedience to the divine plan causes him great internal agony. What happened in the garden this night of his arrest, reminds us that Jesus is not just divine, but is also a human being who fears what’s ahead. In prayer, he submits to his divine will even though the temptation to run away is great. 

According to our passage, most of the disciples (perhaps all except for Judas) go with Jesus to the garden. But outside the garden, he tells all but his inner core (Peter, James, and John), to sit and wait. He then proceeds into the garden, asks the three to wait close by and to pray. He steps away to pray by himself. 

Jesus’ prayer is full of agony. Normally, Jewish men would pray standing up, but here Jesus throws himself on the ground. The reality of Jesus’ grief is apparent. As one commentator noted, there is nothing in scripture that compares to the grief shown in Gethsemane—not in the Psalms of Lament or with Abraham when he thought he was going to have to sacrifice Issac, or in David’s grief over the death of Absalom.[6] Luke tells us that Jesus sweated blood.[7]  

Since Jesus first foretold his death in Mark 8, he has been focused on Jerusalem. The disciples question what’s going to happen, but Jesus moves forward. But now, with things about to spin out of control, Jesus pauses to pray. He realizes what is required of him to save humanity from sin. 

The cup of which Jesus speaks of links the Lord’s Supper with the crucifixion. This isn’t a simple death. It’s not just a painful death. Jesus, on the cross, accepts the consequences of sin, which alienates us from God. He accepts such alienation on himself, by surrendering to the sinful and taking on the sins of the world. 

Jesus ends his prayer not demanding his own will but by surrendering to the Father’s. Here, we’re reminded of that important line in the Lord’s Prayer, “Thy will be done.” 

While today, we don’t spend much time on Gethsemane, except for maybe on Maundy Thursday. But this event impressed the early church. The Jesus depicted at Gethsemane carries a level of authenticity, for who would describe their hero questioning what is about to happen.[8] Jesus in Gethsemane isn’t Socrates, who Plato describes willing drinking the poison hemlock without complaint. But again, his death involves so much more. And while Mark has throughout his gospel pointed out the divine nature of Jesus, here we see his bare humanity. He experiences the same fear and uncertainty we all face. 

When Jesus goes back to check on the disciples, he finds the three asleep. He speaks to Peter, but instead of using the name Peter, which means “rock,” he uses his older name, “Simon.” Perhaps this was because Peter is not rock solid at this point.

 However, we shouldn’t forget that it’s been a long day and after a big meal with plenty of drink. So it’s understandable that Peter and the disciples can’t stay awake. This happens twice more, before Jesus says, “Enough,” and arouses the three sleeping disciples. They go to meet the betrayer. 

Again, as Mark does whenever Judas is mentioned, we’re reminded that he’s one of the 12.[9] Mark doesn’t let us forget this. The betrayal is an inside job.

Judas comes with a mob from the Sanhedrin. He kisses Jesus to identify him, which is an odd sign. We know in the ancient world, disciples would often kiss their master on the cheek, but this is the only occasion in which we’re told Jesus received such a kiss. But this kiss of betrayal sets off the events that will lead to Jesus’ crucifixion.  But even here, we see that Jesus is in control as he surrenders to the powers sent to arrest him. 

Then “All” the disciples desert him.  At the table, after Peter declared his unfailing allegiance to Jesus, we’re told that All the disciples agreed to stand fast.[10] Now we see that’s not the case. 

This section ends with a funny story about a young man who may have been asleep and heard the commotion and came out with only the linen cloth worn in bed. When the authorities try to grab him, he runs always naked, leaving them holding the cloth. It’s interested and we don’t know who this person was, although some think it may have been Mark’s way of acknowledging his presence at the betrayal.[11]

While it wasn’t really a dark night, for the full moon would have shown brightly across the valley, it was a night filled with dark events. Jesus remains faithful to his divine plan, but all the disciples abandon him. Yet, there’s good news here. For our hope is not based on our faithfulness. If that’s the case, we’ll liable to be just like the disciples. Instead, our hope (and the disciples hope) is based only on God coming to us in the life of Jesus. In him, God willing gives his life for ours. Amen. 

[1] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/03/24/jesus-crucifixion-as-told-by-mark/

[2] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/11/17/7549/

[3] Fleming Ruthledge, The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015), 65. 

[4] 1 Corinthians 1:22-24. 

[5] Romans 5:8. 

[6] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 432.

[7] Luke 22:44. 

[8] See Edwards, 432 and Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendricks Publishing, 1997), 349. 

[9] See Mark 14:10. In Mark 3:19, instead of being referred to as “one of the twelve,” Judas is identified as the betrayer (the one who handed him over). 

[10] Mark 14:31. 

[11] Edwards, 440-441.Douglas R. A. Hare, Mark: Westminster Bible Companion, (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), 197-198.

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The Long Way Home to Nevada, Part 3 of my 1989 transcontinental train trip

title slide with photo of an Amtrak locomotive

I wake up as the train crosses the Potomac, heading into the DC Station. I don’t get up, but continued napping as the diesel locomotives were traded for electric ones. Fifteen or so minutes later, we pull out of Washington and continue northward. Around mid-morning, I step off the train in Philadelphia. Shari stands at the end of the platform waiting. I have a long layover before catching the Pennsylvanian, a train that will take me overnight from Philadelphia through Pittsburgh and on to Chicago.  (Today, the Pennsylvanian only runs to Pittsburgh).

Philadelphia

in Philadelphia
Shari

As it was Sunday morning, Shari drove into the city. I toss my bags into the back of her car and we stop at a bakery at the end of Fairmont Park for breakfast and coffee. We catch up on our lives as it had been nearly two years since we met along the Appalachian Trail at Delaware Gap. Having recently finished law school, she is debating two job offers to teach legal writing, one at Catholic University in Washington and another at Western Mass Law School in Springfield. 

After breakfast, we walk over to the Philadelphia Art Gallery. We see Robert Adams collection of American Western photos along with several Monet and Van Gogh paintings. I was shocked to learn Shari doesn’t care much for art galleys, so we head across the river and walk around the zoo. Later, we drive across town to the old part of Philadelphia. There, on South Street, Shari insists on treating me with an authentic Philly Cheese Sandwich. This is a real treat, as she’s a vegetarian. She’d asked friends for the best place to buy me a sandwich. We then walk around the old city, stopping to look at the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and checking out Benjamin Franklin’s pew at Christ Church. As a Jew, she was more than willing to indulge my curiosity inside the church. Then it was time to head back to the Amtrak Station.

On the Chicago

That evening, as the train ran across Pennsylvania, I had dinner with a guy name Tim. He works in the computer import business and has spent a lot of time in Seattle. He provides several suggestions on getting around in the city and what to see. After returning to my seat, I alternate reading my academic advisor’s new book, Beyond Servanthood and Adela Yarbro Collin’s, Crisis and Catharsis: The Power of the Apocalypse before falling asleep. 

Chicago and McCormick Theological Seminary

McCormick Theological Seminary
McCormick Theological Seminary

We arrived in Chicago on time, early in the morning. Having been given directions to McCormick Theological Seminary in Hyde Park, I walk a few blocks to the east and take a regional train. At the seminary, I’m met by several students whom I had worked with at the General Assembly in Saint Louis the previous summer. They introduce me to more students. We attend chapel together, then they arrange for me to take a shower in a dorm, before meeting for lunch. Afterwards, Marj, one of the students I knew from St. Louis, insists on driving me back to the Southshore Station, which was about a mile away. She had suggested I call when I arrived there and she would have picked me up, or I should take a cab. But I decided to walk down and surprise them. Undoubtedly, the neighborhood is worse than it looks. I take the Southshore back into the city center city to catch the Empire Builder that afternoon for Seattle. 

While walking back to Union Station, I was surprised to be greeted by two kids running up to me. Aaron and Ashley and their mother Karen, whom I’d met on my journey from Pittsburgh to Washington, sit just outiside of the depot, while waiting on their train to Grand Rapids, Michigan. They’d just returned from their trip to the Nation’s Capital. We have enough time to grab an ice cream before I boarded the train to the West Coast. 

Chicago to Seattle, Day 1

The Empire Builder, the northern most of the great western railways was built by and named for James J. Hill. He envisioned a railroad across the northern plains, connecting the twin cities of St. Paul and Minneapolis to the Pacific. The line runs just south of the Canadian border. The Amtrak line which goes by the same name, starts along the old Milwaukee Road line from Chicago and then picks up Hill’s Great Northern line at the Twin Cities. 

My train leaves Chicago late in the afternoon. I finish reading Sue’s book, Beyond Servanthood, before bed. Sometime early in the morning, we stop in the Twin Cities. I don’t even get up and quickly fall back asleep. 

The next time I awake, the train gently rolls through curves, its wheels squeaking as they rub against the rail. I opened the curtains to see a thin strip of pink in the sky. I assume I’m looking out for the first time at North Dakota. A thin blanket of snow lays along the flat prairie, broken by an occasional row of trees or a line of utility poles. At regular intervals, a larger clump of trees indicates a small village. Above the trees stand a church steeple, water tower, and grain elevator. Nothing moves. Empty grain hoppers sit on sidetracks, waiting for the next harvest. A few cows huddle near isolated barns. I make out the silhouette of tractors, waiting for warmer weather. The state seems to be in a late winter nap. Then the train pulls up to the platform and I see the sign for Detroit Lakes. We’re still in Minnesota.  I fall back asleep. 

church in eastern North Dakota
Church in Eastern North Dakota
Fargo

Our next stop is Fargo. The town hadn’t yet been made famous by the Coen Brother’s black comedy. I step off the train and take a brisk walk up and down the platform. My breath smokes like a steam locomotive in the cold air. But it wakes me up. After a few laps, I hear “All Aboard,” and step back onboard and head to the lounge car for coffee.  I sit and watch the prairie as the day awakes. It’s spring but feels like it’s still winter. I can’t imagine the harshness of life up here along the high line, cold winters and hot summers. 

I spend much of the morning alternating between looking out of the window and reading. Having tired of theology, I pull out the one book of fiction in my bag, Doris Lessings, The Summer Before the Dark.  It wasn’t light reading, so I spend much of the time looking and talking to fellow passengers.

Delay

We’re running behind a bit, but late morning we come to a full stop. We’re informed of a train derailment ahead of us which needs to be clear. We sit, looking at the same barren prairie for two hours. The fences that run alongside the tracks seem mostly to corral tumbleweed. After we resume, I get off at all the towns where there’s a smoke stop, walking a few laps around the platform as the smokers puff down their cigarettes.  

The further west we travel, the more familiar the landscape seems. I spot sagebrush and, in my journal, use the term “Sage Covered Hills,” first the first time. For years, it would be the name of my blog. Some of the towns have painted their initials on the hillside above them. This common western feature I first spot on a hill above Glasgow. There are massive powerlines pulling electricity from places like Fort Peck Dam. At the time, I knew nothing about the dam. Later, I’d become more familiar with it through the writings of Ivan Doig, a Montanan author. 

Chicago to Seattle, Day 2

As the sun sets, we can make out the distant mountains. Running several hours behind due to the derailment up ahead means we’ll not see the majestic peaks as we cross into the northern Rockies. It’s two hours after dark when we arrive at Glacier Park Station. Instead of a light dusting of snow, as I’d seen in the morning, the mounds of pack snow are head high all around the station. A few passengers get off and others come aboard and soon we’re slowly climbing in the darkness. 

I wake up at dawn and we’re in Spokane, having crossed the Rockies in the dark. Here, the train splits with part of the train heading to Portland, while the rest of us will continue to Seattle.  

We run through eastern Washington and arrive in Seattle at midday. This is unfamiliar country to me. Years later, when I read David Guterson’s East of the Mountains, I recalled my trip across the state. I wished I had made more journal entries as I traveled reverse of Dr. Ben Givens, the novel’s protagonist. 

From the train in Eastern Washington
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Seattle

Trolley
trolley

In Seattle, I gather my luggage and head to my hotel, two blocks away. I’m too early to get the room. I leave my luggage at the counter and set out to find lunch.  Afterwards, I head to the Space Needle for a view of the city. I ride the city’s cable cars and walk along the wharfs and fish markets dotting the water. Later, I find a place to have seafood for dinner. I head back to the hotel before dark, wanting to sleep in a bed without waking up at stops. From the room, I call Carolyn and am surprised when she tells me she’ll meet me in Sacramento in two days.  I’m both excited and nervous. 

Seattle Skyline
Seattle skyline take from the “Space Needle”

On the Coast Starlight to Sacramento

The next morning, in a misty rain, head back to the train station and checked my bags for home. The sky is hazy as we pull out of the station on the Coast Starlight. I can barely make out the shapes of St. Helens, Ranier, and Hood of the Cascade Range.  This overnight train runs almost 1400 miles, connecting Seattle with Los Angeles.  

I get off early the next morning in Sacramento. My ticket was for Oakland/San Francisco, where I would transfer to the California Zephyr. But since the Zephyr also stops in Sacramento, this allows me to avoid riding the same track and provides me with most of the day in California’s capital.  It’s a beautiful day and the city is just waking up. As I arrive an hour before Carolyn, I hike up to the bus station, maybe a mile away. I stop for coffee and then, thinking it’s about time, walk on over to the station. Her bus is early and she’s leaving the station, when I call to her. We hug and set out to see the city. 

Of course, nothing is yet open. We walk around the state capitol. Then we head to the Roman Catholic Cathedral. This had been built by the first Catholic Priest in Virginia City after he was made a bishop. Then, when the California State Railroad Museum opens, we head there. This is one of the premier railroad museums in the world and we spend the rest of the morning exploring.  After lunch in the snack bar, we head back to the train station to the ride back to Reno.  

The final lap to Reno

Sierras
Sierras

The ride across the Sierras is familiar as the tracks mostly parallel Interstate 80. The train twists and sways and often runs through snow sheds, designed to protect the tracks from avalanches such as one in 1954 which stranded a train for a week. We mostly sit in the lounge car, close to each other, our feet propped up on the rail below the window, as we take in the scene. After the stop in Truckee, we head back to our seats and collect our baggage. In Reno, where I started nearly three weeks earlier, we step off the train.  

Reno Train Station
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Part 1, Reno to Pittsburgh

Part 2: Pittsburgh to NC

Other train trips

Danville to Atlanta, 2020

Coming home to Pittsburgh, 1987

Doubly late to West Palm Beach, 1986

Riding on the City of New Orleans, 2005

Edinburgh to Iona, 2017

Riding in the Cab of the V&T, 2013

Bangkok to Seim Reap, 2011

Riding the International: Georgetown to Bangkok, 2011

Malaysia’s NE Line: The Jungle Train, 2011

Coming Home on the Southwest Chef, 2012