Author: jgarrison

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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 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’m hiking 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. Atnight you could 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.  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 is waiting. 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 are continuing 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.

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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
Scanner

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
Scanner

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

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March 2025 readings

title slide with book covers

For those of you who wonder why I didn’t post a sermon on Sunday, it’s because I didn’t preach. I was recovering from a stomach bug and was still in the “infectious stage.” I doubt anyone wanted to risk seeing me. It all started late Wednesday night when I became violently sick and between episodes, was unable to maintain my blood sugar levels. I ended up in the ER, receiving IV fluids and shots to control nausea. After 4 hours, I came home but as late as Friday was experiencing diarrhea. As I was to have 48 hours after the last symptom, I was blessed to have someone else preach for me. The next sermon, God willing, will be posted on April 11th. This week, I had planned to be off in order to attend the HopeWords Writer’s Conference in Bluefield. Hopefully, you’ll find an interesting book or two from those books I finished reading during March.

Jon Meacham, His Truth is Marching On: John Lewis and the Power of Hope with Afterword by John Lewis 

cover of Jon Meachan's "His Truth is Marching On: John Lewis and the Power of Hope"

(New York: Penguin Random House, 2020), 354 pages including note, bibliography, and an index. 

In a way, Meacham’s biography on John Lewis reads like a spiritual memoir. Meacham provides the details of Lewis’ early life. However, his real focus is on Lewis’ faith and how it helped him as a young leader of the Civil Rights Movement.

Lewis wanted to preach from an early age. The family’s  chicken coop became his church. He preached to the birds and took offense when his mother cooked one of his “parishioners.” Throughout this book, Meacham captures the theological themes of Lewis’ life. These include love in the face of hate, non-violence, and with Martin Luther King, a vision of a beloved community. 

This book mostly focuses on Lewis’ first 28 years, until the death of Martin Luther King in 1968. A long epilogue brings the reader up to date on Lewis later work. This includes his 17 terms in the United States Congress. Following this is an afterword, written by Lewis himself, before his death on July 17, 2020. The book was published later that year.

Jon Meacham, as a young reporter for The Chattanooga Times, met Lewis on election night, 1992. He had just won his fourth term in Congress and Clinton had beaten George H. W. Bush for the Presidency. They would meet many more times over the years. Meacham began working on this book toward the end of Lewis’ life. Even thought Meacham focuses on Lewis’ work before they met, the closeness of the preacher/politician with the author is sensed throughout this book. 

Lewis’ grandfather was born a slave. But after Civil War, he worked hard and brought land. Lewis’ own father was a tenant farmer, but the family seldom saw the white owner of the land they worked. Lewis himself saw few white people in his early life, living in a segregated world. In 1951, at age 11, this changed one summer when an uncle took him to Buffalo, New York. It was an eye-opening event for Lewis. 

The 1950s were a time of change and uncertainty in the South. For African Americans, there was a bright light when the Supreme Court ruling against school segregation in 1954. Of course, nothing changed fast. But it was also a time of lynchings and the torture death of Emmett Till, a boy from Chicago close to Lewis’ age. 

For young Lewis, another change came when he started listening to the Martin Luther King, Jr. preaching on the radio. In 1957, Lewis left his hometown for American Baptist Theological Seminary in Nashville, Tennessee. The small school trained African American men for the ministry. While a student, Lewis learned about non-violent protests and participated in sit-ins at local cafes. He even volunteer to attempt to integrate a local white university. He was invited to meet with Martin Luther King, Jr. and Ralph Abernathy, who suggested he needed his parents’ approval since he was not yet 18 years of age. They refused and Lewis returned to the seminary. He continued his involved in non-violence as he participated as a Freedom Bus Rider. In all these experiences, Lewis saw the brutality of the Southern Whites as they resisted the demands of Black Southerners. 

As a young man, Lewis quickly became a leader within the Civil Rights movement. Even before his brutal beating on the Emmett Pettit bridge in Selma, Alabama in 1965, he had be with other leaders meeting President Johnson in the White House. It’s amazing that Lewis could continue to advocate non-violence and envison a beloved community with the violence he experienced. But he did. He even had to resist others within the movement, especially after Selma and later the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. These events led many to call for violence and Black Power as a way to confront the White backlash. Lewis stood firm for nonviolence. 

The reader of this book will take away an appreciation of what Lewis and other Civil Rights leaders endured. At a time when many of our rights as Americans feel threatened, the examples of those like Lewis, who Meacham likens to the Founding Fathers, provides an example of what courage looks like. He kept his eye on justice, avoiding violence but willing to get into “good trouble.”

I have read four other books by Jon Meacham and reviewed Let There Be Light.  Like His Truth is Marching On, Let There be Light is also a spiritual biography, but of Abraham Lincoln. I have also read his biographies of George H. W. Bush and Andrew Jackson. All have been exceptional. 

Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays 

Book cover of Upstream

(2016, Audible,  Pushkin Industries, 2023, 4 hours and 3 minutes)

A number of years ago read some of Mary Oliver’s poetry and her book on writing poetry. This is my first foray into her essays. This collection has been finely crafted, showing Oliver’s love for nature, life, and her home in Provincetown at the eastern tip of Cape Cod. As with her poetry, Oliver provides the reader with close views of the world. Owls, foxes, herons, spiders, turtles, fish, and her beloved dogs are all captured with her words. The reader learns the poet’s blessings upon those in the past. She drew strength from writers like Ralph Waldo Emerson, Edgar Allen Poe, William James, Walt Whiteman, William Wordsworth. She takes us on predawn walks. We’re introduced to a carpenter who wants to be a poet. Then we learn of her desire to master woodworking. I recommend this series of essays as a reminder to take our time to enjoy what’s around us. 

Amanda Held Opelt, Holy Unhappiness: God, Goodness, and the Myth of the Blessed Life

Book cover for "Holy Unhappiness"

 (New York: Worthy Publishing, 2023), 239 pages including notes. 

The title of this book, “Holy Unhappiness,” caught my attention. After all, doesn’t God want us to be happy? Doesn’t God want us to be blessed? Drawing on the account of the fall from Genesis 3, Opelt counters the idea we’re made to be happy. The curse of humanity includes our suffering in this life.  Of course, the pursuit of happiness, which Americans hold dear, isn’t found in Scripture but the Declaration of Independence. Yet such ideas have found their way into American Christianity through the various forms of the prosperity gospel. Opelt’s book directly attacks the heresy of the prosperity gospel. 

The author grew up in a loving Christian middle-class family in the Bible Belt. She felt she did all the things required of her to achieve blessedness. But as she grew older, she realized many of her expectations were hollow. The idea she just had to find the right job, the right spouse and they’d have the perfect children, and life would be easy was an allusion. 

The book is divided into three parts. Each looks at four places where we seek blessings followed by a chapter on the real source of blessings. The first part of the book looks at us as individuals in our work, marriage and parenthood. While there are wonderful aspects to each of these, they can also fluster our attempts to obtain a blessing. The real blessing comes in our delight of accepting what God has given us. 

Part two focuses on our life in a community. While much of American Christianity is focused on individuals, Opelt points out that the gospel is to be lived out with others. In this section, she discusses calling and community along with our bodies (through which we serve and work together). The blessing we discover is humility. The third part examines our gathering as believers, along with our suffering and sanctification. The resulting blessing is hope.  

Opelt encourages American Christians to avoid “one-verse-theologies” and to delve into the Scriptures. I applaud this suggestion. However, I wonder why Opelt didn’t link suffering and “holy unhappiness” with the cross. Perhaps this is because I am writing this review during Lent, or because yesterday I read nearly 100 pages of Fleming Rutledge’s, The Crucifixion. Nonetheless, there is a lot to commend in Opelt’s book. I was especially moved by what she has to say about the community, the church, and humility. 

Oplet will be one of the presenters at this year’s HopeWords Writer’s Conference in Bluefield, West Virginia.

Nathaniel Philbrick, Travels with George: In Search of Washington and His Legacy 

Book cover for "Travels with George"

(Penguin Random House, 2021), 375 pages include notes, bibliography and index. Penguin Audio, 2021, narrated by Nathaniel Philbrick, 9 hours and 34 minutes. 

This is the third book I read by Philbrick. The first two were In the Heart of the Sea: the Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex and Valiant Ambition: George Washington, Benedict Arnold, and the Fate of the American Revolution. I have enjoyed all three and have his book on the Mayflower sitting on my to-be-read pile.

I began listening to on audio, but ended up picking up a copy from the library. This allowed me to follow along and to see the illustrations. Most notably is John Trumbull’s painting of George standing in front of the hind end of Prescott, his horse. Prescott’s tail is raised. In the background sits the city of Charleston, for whom the painting was made. The artist’s joke is that the horse is relieving himself on Charleston even though I first thought Washington was lifting up the horse’s tail (as to say, go here?). 

Unlike the other two books of Philbrick’s I read, this one is more personal. Philbrick and his wife Melissa along with their dog, Dora, retraces the steps of Washington in their Honda Pilot. The one time they left their car behind was to sail, like Washington, to Rhode Island. This created an exciting adventure as they were caught in a dangerous storm. Thankfully, they’d left Dora behind.

Both Philbricks are avid sailors. Early in their married life, Philbrick stayed at home and cared for the kids while working as a freelance writer. Melissa worked as an attorney. I also discovered that he grew up in Pittsburgh. However, he spent lots of time in the summer on the coast where he could sail. Sadly, Phil did not reveal if he remained loyal to Pittsburgh’s sports or if he became a traitor for the Red Sox’s and Patriots. 

Blending into their personal experiences along the road, we learn much about Washington and the challenges he faced as the first President of the United States. At the time, the nation’s future was far from certain. Washington, a “Federalist,” was from the anti-federal South. Like all great men, he had his faults, especially when it came to his inconsistent views on slavery. Yet Washington was the man who brought the nation together. He strove to unite a collective group of former colonies into the United States. Philbrick notes that Washington didn’t desire the Presidency. Furthermore, Martha really didn’t relish the possibility of being the First Lady). During the time Washington made these journeys, he also worked on establishing the nation’s capital along the banks of the Potomac. This effort remained on his mind while on his last and longest of the journeys through the South. 

Washington’s journeys begins as he leaves his home at Mt. Vernon for New York. There, he took the oath of office. His desire to learn more about the nation and show national unity, Washington, led to these trips.

His first journey left New York for New England, with stops in Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and a brief foray into Maine. Notably, he skipped Rhode Island as it had yet to ratify the constitution. However, Maine wasn’t even being considered as a state and it didn’t become one until 1820. 

Washington’s second journey was a tour of Long Island. The Island had mostly remained under British Control during the Revolution. However, a series of spy rings on the island, kept Washington informed as to the British plans. Even during this trip, Washington kept the identity of almost all the spies quiet. At this time, his concern continued to be their safety. What would happen if the nation failed and Britain regained control? 

Then, in August 1790, Washington sails from New York to Rhode Island. While he shunned the colony on his New England trip, he wanted to welcome them into the union after they ratified the constitution. Washington stayed with John Brown, a Quaker who helped establish Brown University. Philbeck had attended Brown, and his family had long ties to the university. We learn Brown’s chariot provide Washington with ideas of the type of coach needed for his southern journeys. More importantly, however, to the story was the Quakers mixed relationship with slavery. While the religion shunned the practice, many of the ships bringing slaves to the Americas came from Rhode Island. 

Throughout the book, Philbrick explores Washington’s own troubled relationship with slavery. It has long been noted that Washington freed his slaves upon his death, but they were only part of Mt. Vernon’s slaves. Many of the slaves belonged to his wife’s first husband and were property Washington didn’t control. Furthermore, while troubled by slavery, Washington still chased down runaway slaves and kept them in bondage. And while he was on these journeys, he traveled with enslaved menservants. 

Ironically, Washington’s final tour took him through a land of which he was unfamiliar, the South. During the Revolution, Washington time was mostly spent in the northern part of the colonies. Other generals lead the fight in the South. This was area was also the least developed part of the nation. Overland travel was difficult. It was also a place that was most hostile to Washington’s ideas, especially the tax on whiskey. 

For me, the Eastern leg of Washington’s Southern journey was the most familiar. Having spent my childhood in Wilmington, NC, and six years as an adult just outside of Savanah, I’ve traveled the roads which parallel Washington’s journey numerous times. Like Philbrick, I’ve read much of Archibald Rutledge’s writings. I have even published a piece on Hampton Plantation, where Washington stayed. I knew all of stories Philbrick told of Rutledge’s ancestors. 

The part of the Southern journey that I was less familiar with was Washington’s westward swing which took him from Augusta, Georgia through the Piedmont of South and North Carolina. While I have been to most of the sites mentioned, I never associated them with Washington. 

Washington’s travels seemed to help create the myth and numerous stories seemed to be repeated along the way. Many towns have their own version of “He’s just a man,” often exclaimed by some youngest when they met Washington. Another popular and frequent story are about the coins he gave out as gifts. Interestingly, these were British coins as America had yet to mint its own money. And then there was the stories of Washington’s beloved dog, “Greyhound.” Sadly, Philbrick discovered the story had been made up in the 19th Century. 

While this book wasn’t as detailed in historical research as the other Philbrick books, I enjoyed it. Philbrick. portrait of Washington gives insight into the type of leadership our nation needs at present. Furthermore, reading this book makes me think it’s time for a road trip.

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Getting to the Trailhead. The Southern Crescent, 1985

Title slide with photos of a wildflower and the Appalachian trail in Georgia, 1985

As I work on Part 3 of my first transcontinental rail trip which I took in 1989, I brushed off this old piece I wrote about a short trip I took in 1985. The plan was to meet up with friends and head out for a two week hike along the Appalachian Trail. At this time, my only experience of trains had been in kindergarten, on Tweetsie (in the NC mountains which featured an attack by hostile natives and a hold-up by Butch Cassidy wannabes ), at 6 Flags, and in Japan.

I wait, my backpack resting against my thigh, and look up the tracks for the lights of Southern Crescent. The night air is heavy, warm and moist. The clock on the platform reads 1:30. We’re told the train is 30 minutes late. I tell Paula, a friend who drove me down to Gastonia, that she can go home if she wants. But she, like many of the others who have brought friends and family to the tracks, waits. We make small talk, mostly about my plans to hike for the next two weeks.

Finally, a light is seen in the distance, growing brighter. The locomotives blow by. It feels as if train will skip us. Then the metal wheels squeal and the train comes to a stop. An attendant steps off, sits out a step. Those of us waiting make a line and begin to climb aboard. I give Paula a quick hug and thank her again for the ride, shoulder my back and board. A minute later, the whistle blows, the attendant picks up the step. As he boards the train as the cars jerk and continue their southbound run through the night. Next stop, Spartanburg, but I’ll be asleep by then.

author somewhere between Springer Mt, GA, and Fontana Dam, NC
That’s me, somewhere between Springer Mt and Fontana Dam



I stow my pack overhead and take a seat next to a man who’s already fast asleep. A few minutes later the conductor comes by and collects the $30 for my ticket. Back then, before internet and computers, you could still board and pay. I lean back my seat and close my eyes, attempting to sleep to the swaying of the car and the clicking of the wheels. Although tired, I’m also excited. I haven’t been on a train in the United States since I was a kindergartener. Then, my class rode the Seaboard Coastline from Southern Pines to Vass. Or Cameron? All I remember is that it was a mail train. We were treated to a tour the mail car where postal workers sorted the mail as it came aboard at each stop. 

Tonight, I’ll ride a couple hundred miles through the Piedmont, from Gastonia to just north of Atlanta. I watch as we race through small towns, the lights of the crossbars and the stoplights blinking on deserted main streets. Finally, I finally fall asleep. 

A few minutes later I wake up shivering. The AC is running full blast. The car feels like an ice box. I grab my sleeping bag from my pack, unzip it and wrap it around me for warmth and fall back asleep. A couple hours later, the attendant shakes me, informing me that my stop is next. 

The guy next to me is awake and he asks if the lounge car is serving coffee yet. Not until 6 AM, he’s told. I stuff my sleeping bag into its bag and secure it back to my pack. Then I sit back down to wait.

I chat a bit with the guy beside me. He boarded the train in New York and is going home to Mississippi. He’s curious as to what I’m doing on the train with a backpack. I tell him that I’ll be meeting friends in Gainesville. And we’re heading up into the mountains to the beginning of the Appalachian Trail. He, too, grew up in the South. Like many African Americans of his age, he had to leave if he wanted decent work. 

As he tells his story, I recall a photograph a friend of mine from the early-60s. Phil worked for the Charlotte Observer then. He caught on film the faces of three black boys looking out of the window of a northbound train. He titled it, “Chicken Bone Special,” based on the nickname the Southern Crescent at the time. The name came from how hardworking families from the Deep South, with little money in their pockets, headed north for work with a basket of fried chicken to tide them over.

The sky is pink when I step off the train at Gainesville. A sense of loneliness and abandonment washes over me as the train resumes its journey toward Atlanta, then Birmingham, Tuscaloosa, Hattiesburg and on to New Orleans. 

I can tell right away that this isn’t the best part of town. The rails run between industrial buildings, many abandoned, with their dark windows reflecting the morning light. Those who got off the train with me are all met by friends and family. Soon, I’m the only one left. A cab driver asks if I want a ride. I tell him that I’d be meeting friends later in the morning. I ask if he knows where I can get some breakfast. He points to a diner down the street. I head off in that direction. 

Entering, I’m aware of the stares, as drop my pack on one side of a booth and sit in the other. Most of those eating appears to have just gotten off their shift in one of the industrial plants by the tracks. 

I order a big breakfast: poached eggs, corn beef hash, toast and coffee. As I eat, I pull out A Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut and begin to read. I stay, long after finishing my breakfast, drinking coffee and reading. It’ll be noon before Reuben, and his brother Bill, will arrive and pick me up at the train station. There’s plenty of time to kill.

I sit in the diner for a good 90 minutes, wanting the sun to get up above the horizon. Then I leave to see the town, walking away from the tracks. When I find a small neighborhood park, I place my pack against a tree, using it as a backrest, and sit, continuing to read. Later, as the stores open, I check out a couple of antique shops. It’s a safe hobby. I’m surely don’t plan to buy anything to add to my pack that already weighs 50 pounds. 

I head back to the train station an hour early, thinking I can find a bench there to sit and read. But before I get to the station, I hear Rueben call my name from the passenger seat of a station wagon. He’d hired the janitor at his law office to drive him and his brother in his wife’s station wagon. I dump my pack in the back and crawl in the backseat next to Bill.  

We make a short stop for burgers and then drive toward Amicalola Falls. The Appalachian Trail begins at the top of Springer Mountain, but it requires a hike to get to Springer. We skip the falls, as we take a Forest Service Road which drops us off a couple miles from the peak of Springer Mountain. We unload and say goodbye to our chauffeur, shoulder our packs and head off into the woods. I don’t stop till we get to the bronze plaque bolted on rock, identifying the summit. There, we stop long enough to take a few photos, and then head north, following the white blazes toward Maine. 

The three of us at the start of the Appalachian Trail
Reuben, me, Bill, at the beginning of the Appalachian Trail, July 1985



Reuben and I are out for two weeks. We’re heading to Fontana Dam at the beginning of the Smoky Mountains. Bill, his brother, will hike with us the first week. He’ll get off the trail just south of the North Carolina border, where his wife will pick him up. She’ll also bring our resupply. This was Bill’s first trip, and it would be a tough one. For years afterwards, Reuben relished telling how, after he got off the trail, Bill called their mother and told her how Reuben, her other son, tried to kill him. 

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An Act of Devotion and a Conspiracy to Do Evil

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

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
Mark 14:1-11
March 23, 2024

Sermon recorded at Bluemont Church on Friday, May 21, 2025.

At the beginning of the service: 
I recently read Holy Unhappiness: God, Goodness, and the Myth of the Blessed Life by Amanda Held Opelt. She will be one of the presenters at HopeWords Writers’ Conference in a few weeks. In the chapter where she explored the meaning of the church (or the assembly as she points out the correct meaning of the word in Greek), she tells of how her experiences as a child was different from that as an adult. Her experience probably mirrors most of ours. As a child, most experienced “the assembly” as loving, caring, and grace filled. As an adult, we see the other side, especially the tendency to divide people into a “us versus them” mentality. Then she confesses, “No one ever told me the enemy might be on the inside.”[1]

Part of the problem with our idealized view of the church and the Christian life is our selective use of scripture. If we were really steeped into the Bible, we’d see how even the heroes of scripture, except for Jesus, have feet of clay. It’s not about being perfect, but about how God uses imperfect people to carry out his mission. Today, we’ll see that even Jesus had to deal with enemies on the inside. Perhaps we can learn something. 

Before reading the scripture:
Today, we begin looking at Jesus’ last two days before his crucifixion. From last week, we’re jumping over the 13th chapter of Mark, which we covered during Advent. The 13th chapter was where Jesus instructed his disciples concerning his return. At the beginning of the 14th chapter, we learn the plan to do away with Jesus has come to a head. Ever since the 3rd Chapter, some leaders among the Jews thought Jesus needed to go.[2] Now they ready. 

Let me give you a heads up on next week’s text. We’ll look at Jesus’ last supper with the disciples. We’ve moved the date for communion, from the first Sunday of the month, to the last, this one time. That’s so we can celebrate communion as we recall Jesus’ last meal.

Our reading today consists of Mark’s classic “sandwich” construction.[3] We’ve seen this structure numerous times as we worked our way through Mark.[4] The first two and the last two verses here deal with the conspiracy against Jesus. In the middle, an anointing of Jesus takes place which creates discord within the disciples while reminding them of what’s ahead. 

Read Mark 14:1-11
We should note as we come toward the end of Mark’s gospel, women take a more prominent role.[5] Men, or at least the disciples, are seen as cowards. Of course, Judas is the exception. But he betrays Jesus. And the religious leaders are devious and filled with evil intent. But women, starting with the woman with the alabaster jar of perfume, are seen as faithful and devoted. They remain with Jesus even during his execution and are there to care of his body afterwards.

As I’ve discussed since the 11th Chapter when Jesus entered Jerusalem for the first time, he and the disciples have been staying in Bethany, a small town about two miles away.[6] In John’s gospel, we have a similar story as this, also set in Bethany, but at the home of Lazarus. There, Lazarus’ sister Martha serves while Mary, another sister, anoints Jesus with an expensive nard.[7]

Here, in Mark along with Matthew’s gospel,[8] we’re told they’re at the house of Simon the leper. This could be explained if Simon was Lazarus’ father, but we don’t know. By being called “the leper” most likely means he once had the disease. If the disease was active, he would not be able to host the Jesus and the disciples in his home. From staying outside of Jerusalem in Bethany to eating with a leper, Jesus shows how he is outside the mainstream.[9]

Mark doesn’t name the woman who anoints Jesus. The nard she pours over Jesus’ head was very expensive. At 300 denarii, it would be equivalent to a year’s wage for a laborer. Nor do we know her motives for anointing Jesus. The case has often been suggested she prepared Jesus for his role as King, but if that’s the case, oil and not nard would have been used. 

Our text suggests she wanted to prepare Jesus body for the grave. Perhaps this was because the bodies of executed criminals were not often afforded such honor.[10] However, it’s doubtful she knew what was about to happen to Jesus. After all, the disciples themselves seem clueless, despite having been repeatedly told by Jesus that he would be killed and then rise on the third day. It’s only after she has performed her act of devotion that Jesus interprets it as preparation for his death. 

Perhaps its best for us to understand this act as one of great devotion. In a world where women had few rights and privileges, Jesus offered dignity and respect. Maybe this woman wanted to express her thanks, love, and devotion. 

Whatever her reason, the woman’s act raises the ire of those present. Again, in John’s gospel, we’re told it was Judas who suggested the perfume could be used to care for the poor.[11]Mark doesn’t put the words into an individual’s mouth, just saying that some (in other words, more than one person) felt the expensive gift could have found a better use. 

Nor was the idea of taking care of the poor a bad suggestion. After all, Passover was a time for doing such deeds of mercy.[12]Think of how how we contribute food and toys around Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was the same at Passover. While the disciples judge based on appearance, Jesus judges on motives.[13] He knows what’s in both the woman’s and the disciples’ heart.

Jesus defends this obviously well-off woman. Think about it. I doubt few if any of us have a jar of perfume or cologne equivalent to a year’s salary. In a way, this woman stands in sharp contrast to the woman we saw last week giving her two small copper coins to the temple’s treasury.[14] Jesus values both women. Again, Jesus judges by the condition of our hearts. Today, we recall both women’s devotion.

Now let me say a bit about Jesus’ comment on always having the poor with us. I wish Jesus wouldn’t have said this. Too often someone quotes it as an excuse not to help the poor. But that’s not Jesus’ intention. Jesus never said, don’t take care of the poor. “Feed those hungry people,” Jesus tells the disciples.[15] And by the example of his life, we see that he is very concerned for those in need. 

Maybe, instead of sighing and feeling overwhelmed about always having the poor with us, we should see them as a test. Our response to them shows the condition of our own hearts. If we despise the poor, if we have no empathy, we’re not living the gospel. Perhaps we should do some serious soul-searching. 

This sentimental story finds itself injected into one of Mark’s sandwiches. Before it, we learn of the plans of the chief priests and scribes to stealthy abduct and kill Jesus. Of course, they want to avoid angering the crowds, so they hope to do this after the crowds leave Jerusalem following the Passover. 

Jerusalem, during the Passover, swelled upwards of five times its normal size.[16] Jerusalem would be like living at a tourist destination. If at the beach, winter is the dead season. In the summer you can’t find a parking place or a seat in the restaurant. Jerusalem, during Passover, flooded with people and was like a tourist town. Many of these people came from Galilee, with favorable views of Jesus. Killing him during the Passover might lead to a riot.

However, the Jewish leaders don’t have a plan. They can’t believe their luck when Judas comes knocking on their door, offering to betray Jesus. Again, Mark doesn’t tell us why Judas decides to betray Jesus. It must not have been for money, as our text treats the offer to pay him as an afterthought. In Luke and John’s gospel, we’re told of Satan’s influence. Others have suggested that Judas, being a zealot, wanted to force Jesus to bring in his kingdom, but again that doesn’t appear to be a reason here. Mark isn’t interested in Judas’ motive. Judas is just a player in the ongoing drama. Mark shows us that the trap for Jesus’ arrest is set. 

Judas reminds us that proximity to Jesus doesn’t guarantee faithfulness. In the 13th chapter, Jesus emphasized watchfulness[17]. Even those of us in the church need to be watchful that we’re not tempted to betray Christ. Like the woman in our morning story, our first love must be Jesus. If we love anything else more, we may find ourselves “asleep” when he returns. 

This passage reminds us to remain focused on our Savior, the lover of our souls. Don’t let yourselves to stray away from Christ and his teachings. Amen. 

[1] Amanda Held Opelt, Holy Unhappiness: God, Goodness, and the Myth of the Blessed Life (New York: Worthy Publishing, 2023), 148. 

[2] Mark 3:6. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/03/10/the-plot-against-jesus/

[3] James R. Edwards, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 410. In a way, this passage could also be one slice of bread of a longer sandwich, with the story of the widow’s mite in Mark 12 serving as the other piece of bread. We have the two women as examples of faithfulness with a longer passage showing the disciples need to be watchful in-between. See Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 329. 

[4] examples

[5] Douglas R. A. Hare, Mark: Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996), 181. 

[6] Mark 11:1-11. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/11/17/7549/

[7] John 12:1-8. 

[8] Matthew 26:1-13. 

[9] Edwards, 414.

[10] William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark: NICNT (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974),, 494.

[11] John 12:1-8.

[12] Lane, 493. 

[13] Edwards, 415.

[14] Mark 12:40-44. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2025/03/16/the-widow-and-the-arrogant/

[15] Mark 6:37. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/30/a-grand-picnic-and-a-call-to-feed-the-hungry/

[16] Lane, 490. Jerusalem went from 50,000 to 250,000 during Passover. 

[17] Edwards, 412; Mark 13:33-36. 

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Pittsburgh to North Carolina, Leg 2 of my Transcontinental Trip

title slide with photo of the author boarding a train

Click here for Part 1 of this trip (Reno to Pittsburgh).

I’d arrived early in Pittsburgh on Friday, March 31. I dropped my stuff off at Bill and Mike’s apartment. Bill and I had shared the apartment the year before I took a year off for my western adventures. I spent much of the day around campus. I checked in with teachers, especially Ron Stone as I was doing an independent study with him on Reinhold Niebuhr. That afternoon, I met Linda, whom I had met the previous spring when I preached at First Presbyterian in Cumberland, Maryland. We had written back and forth a few times. She had invited me to her family’s cabin in the Laurel Highlands. It was a nice place, and she brought dinner that evening. We enjoyed a fire and spent Saturday hiking. 

On Sunday, she drove me to Butler, where I preached at Covenant Presbyterian Church. I had worked as a student assistant at Covenant for my first two years at seminary. It was good to see Steve Hamilton, the pastor who’d been my mentor for two years, and many of the people who had become close during my time there.

Photo of the steeple on Covenant Presbyterian in Butler, PA and Steve Hamilton
Covenant’s steeple and Steve

Linda dropped me off at the seminary that afternoon. While there wasn’t any romance in our time together, I had a nice weekend. But the pleasant weekend became tainted when I realized Carolyn had tried to call me at Bill’s apartment several times. While I was honest and we had discussed our relationship evening when I left Nevada in August, I recognized she was hurt, and we were more serious than I realized. 

I had come to the seminary for Jane Dempsey Douglas’ lecture series on the changing views of the imago deo (image of God). She drew heavily on her book, Women, Calvin, and Freedom, which I purchased and would read on my way back to Nevada. During my time there, I had lunch with Sue Nelson, my advisor at school. She’d just published Beyond Servanthood: Christianity and the Liberation of Women. I purchased her book and had her sign it. It’d also read it on the return trip, a trip in which my reading was every bit as deep as it was on my first leg.

As I was enjoying lunch with Sue and other classmates, Barry Jackson, another professor, hunted me down with an urgent message to call Ken Hall at Hill Presbyterian Church in Butler. Somehow, Ken heard I was in town and wanted to meet. As this was in the days before cell phones, Ken knew Barry and thought he might be able to find me. Ken was the moderator of the Presbyterian Church USA. In the two years I worked in Butler, I had only meet him one time, but I had worked with his youth minister on a few activities between our two churches. 

Ken was elected as moderator at the 200th General Assembly held the previous June in St. Louis. As a seminary student, I was there working for the Office of the General Assembly. The moderator was elected on Saturday. On Sunday, everyone attended different churches in the area. Then we came back together Sunday night for the moderator’s reception. There, with a group of seminary students from around the country, I waited in line to meet him.  When I approached, I stuck out my hand to shake his as I started to introduce myself again. But before I could, he yelled, “Jeff, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Then he pulled me close for a hug. I was shocked that he remembered me with the 1000s of people who were present. The other seminary students were impressed. 

I excused myself and went back with Barry to his office where we called Ken. He wanted to know if I could come up and visit, but he was only free that afternoon. I borrowed Bill’s car and drove to Butler for the second time in two days. We spent an hour and a half talking. He asked me to get him a resume. His associate had left, and they were interviewing for another. But he suggested if they didn’t hire one, he would be interested in hiring me during my senior year to fill in the gap. While they would hire someone that summer, it was good to contact Ken again.

Ken and my path would cross several times at General Assemblies over the years. Afew years later, he went to work for the Presbyterian Foundation. Nine years after our meeting, I was a pastor in Cedar City, Utah. Having just built a church, I looked for someone to preach a dedication sermon. I invited Ken. He did a wonderful job. 

On Tuesday night, I played basketball with a group from seminary whom I’d played with for the previous two years. Afterwards, I went out with a group of friends to one of our favorite watering holes in Shadyside, “The Elbow Room.” 

As that party broke up, three of us who were visiting Pittsburgh decided we should visit a real Steel City place. John White, who had moved to Princeton, had been the director of admission who recruited me, and Karen, another former student, whom I barely knew, but who’d come back from the lectures, and I headed out to the “O” for hot dogs and more beer!. 

The “O” stood for “The Original Hot Dog Shop” or “The Dirty O”. The was a long-established hot dog place in Oakland section of Pittsburgh, on Forbes Avenue. When they started, they were across the street from Forbes Field. They witnessed the Pirates World Series win in 1960. By the time we arrived, the Pirates had long moved to Three River Stadium. Across the street from “the O” stood the University of Pittsburgh’s massive library was across the street. 

 John dropped me off at Bill and Mike’s apartment at 1 AM. I had just long enough to shower and catch a few hours of sleep. Bill took me to the train station at 5 AM the next morning. 

It was dark when I boarded the train for Washington. I took my seat at the back of partly filled car. Soon, I fell asleep as we pulled out of Pittsburgh in the dark and ran up the Monongahela River. An hour and a half later, I woke as the train worked its way over the Allegheny Mountains. 

The author boarding the train

The morning was gray. I headed to the lounge car for coffee. When I came back, others were stirring in the car. I grabbed some food from my bag. Then, two blonde hair and blue eye kids popped up from the seat ahead of me. Aaron, the boy was seven and Ashely, the girl, four. Sleeping in the seat across from them was their mother, Karen. As I drank my coffee and ate fruit and a cinnamon bun for breakfast, they played peak-a-boo from behind the seats. Soon, they were drawing pictures for me. When their mother woke, she told them not to bother me. I assured her it was no bother. We spent much of trip to Washington, playing and talking to the three of them. 

Karen, a single mother, was taking her kids to see the capitol. I learned she’d been divorced for a few years and worked in the layout department for the Grand Rapids, Michigan newspaper. 

At this time, the Capitol Limited which ran from Chicago to Washington, DC, was a single deck train. Today, it’s a double decked train, like the trains in the American West. With everything on one level, the lounge car had a dome section where you could have a better view of the mountains. The four of us experienced that for a while that morning, before giving up our seats for others to enjoy.  When we arrived in Washington, we went our separate ways. 

Early that afternoon, April 5, 1989, I left D.C. on the Silver Star, heading south. That night, my parents picked me up in Fayetteville, North Carolina. We spent the night at my grandmother in Pinehurst, before driving to Wilmington the next day. It was a short trip.  I spent time with my parents and saw my grandmother, my brother and his two kids, as well as a few friends. I even went for out to Wrightsville Beach Friday night.  Then, late Saturday night, April 8th, we drove back to Fayetteville. The agent looked at my tickets and commented, “you’re going the long way home.” At 12:50 AM on Sunday, I boarded the train for Philadelphia, the first stop on a long roundabout trip back to Reno. 

###

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

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The Widow and the Arrogant

Title slide with winter photo of the churches where the sermon will be delivered.

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
March 16, 2025
Mark 12:38-44

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, March 14, 2025

At the beginning of worship:

The Reverend Dawna Bridgewater, an associate pastor for a large church, found herself with the task of raising money for a new roof on their sanctuary. Her first day with the assignment proved quite successful. An attorney called and told her the church had received a $65,000 bequest. A couple dropped by and confirmed their plans on giving $35,000. Another member dropped by and handed her a $100 check. What a day, $91,100 raised. 

Just as she packed her bags in preparation for going home, she heard a commotion in the office lobby. A woman yelled, “Is that lady preacher in?” She stepped out into the reception and recognized immediately a woman she’d helped a few weeks earlier. She remembered giving her ten dollars for gas from the church discretionary fund. A single mother, the woman was overweight and wore dirty clothes.  Her three children, ranging from age one to five, were in tow. They could all use a bath and new shoes.

Dawna assumed the woman needed more help and asked how she was doing. She was surprised by her answer. “I’m fine. I was able to sign up for food stamps and with the gas you brought me, I found a job.” 

Then she shocked the pastor. “I want to thank the church for helping.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a handful of crumbled bills and laid $12 on Dawna’ s desk. 

“The church doesn’t expect you to repay the gift,” Dawna said. “And we’re certainly not charging interest.”  

The woman said the ten was to pay the church and the two dollars was for God, who had helped her out when she was in need. “You may have another need,” she said. “Use it.”

The next day, Reverend Bridgewater reported to the finance chairperson they now have $91,112. The chair was impressed, but not nearly as impressed as Dawna, who knew who had given the $12.[1]

Introduction to the Scriptures

As we work through the gospel of Mark, we’re coming to the end of Jesus’ public ministry. After today’s passage, Jesus spends the 13th chapter teaching the disciples about his return, which we explored back in Advent. Then, the 14th Chapter, which we’ll begin to explore next week, deals with the Passover and leads up to Jesus’ arrest. 

Interestingly, Jesus began his public ministry by calling the fishermen who left everything behind.[2] He ends condemning the religious leaders of the day and contrasts them to a woman who gives everything, something Jesus will also do on the cross.

Read Mark 12:38-44. 

The way Mark tells this story, it’s been a long day which we’ve explored over the last three Sundays. Earlier in the day, Jesus and the disciples hike back into Jerusalem from Bethany, where they’ve been staying. They enter the temple. We can imagine the bustling activity. Three days before the Passover, the most holy of the religious holidays, pilgrims flock to the temple. 

In verses 38 and 39, Jesus speaks to the crowd for the last time. The rest of the Mark’s gospel consists of Jesus teaching the disciples, followed by his arrest, trial, crucifixion, and resurrection.[3] Here, Jesus addresses the scribes (and I’m glad I’m not wearing a robe this morning). This seems a bit odd, since Jesus just praised a scribe for being near to the kingdom of God. At least there was a good one among the bunch. The scribes taught the law, and there would be many of them around the temple during the holiday looking for patrons. 

Think about how their flowing robes separated the scribes from the common people. This is always a danger those of us in the clergy face. In the Protestant tradition, we believe in the priesthood of all believers. In other words, while I have the education and have jumped through the hoops required for ordination, I’m not any different than anyone else. We all have equal access to God. Your prayers are just as good as mine. 

Jesus, watching the religious authorities of his day, was taken back by some of their behavior. I’m sure Jesus would have similar feelings today. Back in the 1990s, we had a wave of Catholic priests in Boston caught preying on children. But we Protestants have also had similar problems. Just this past week there was an arrest of an evangelical megachurch pastor in Texas who served as a spiritual advisor to leading politicians.[4]

With their fancy robes, long prayers, and the likelihood they were ripping off those who could least afford it, Jesus had to say something in the first century. It’d be no different if Jesus came back today.  

By the time Jesus enters the Court of the Women, he’s wearied and tired. Repeatedly, he dealt with attempts of entrapment: from the chief priests, the elders, the Sadducees, the scribes, and even the Herodians. Plumb worn out, I imagine Jesus reclining on a bench across from the treasury, with it’s 13 trumpet-like receptacles lining the opposite wall of the Court.[5]

Many who are rich enter wearing fancy clothes and drop lots of coins which ring out as they fall into the treasury. Some of the gifts are announced publicly, encouraging others to give, kind of like a how shot machine jingle when someone hits the jackpot.[6] Others are dressed modestly and drop in smaller amounts. Since this was before the advent of paper money (folding money as it used to be called), the clanging of the coins falling into the receptacles make a racket. The disciples sit beside Jesus, mystified. To them, the temple and the grounds and all that’s going on is amazing. 

None of this, however, phases Jesus. That is, until a certain unnamed woman enters the court and makes her offering. Why does she grab Jesus’ attention? What makes her stand out? Could it be her clothes? But then, beggars and the poor are commonly seen in Palestine. What makes this woman stand out in a sea of humanity?

Perhaps her faith catches Jesus’ attention. Her determination as she marches up to one the 13 receptacles and drops in her offering. Instead of the constant clanging of coins made by the rich making their offerings, her gift causes just a ping or two as the lightweight coins roll into the treasury. 

These are copper coins, the smallest coins in circulation, worth less than our pennies. About 7/10s of 1% of a denarii, the coin Jesus and the Pharisees and Herodians quibbled over earlier.[7]We’re told this is all she has in the world, and she gives it to the temple. She was not expected to give it all. She could have kept one of the coins. But she didn’t. What happens to her now? Mark doesn’t’ say, leaving us to ponder. 

Jesus points the woman out to the disciples. I’m sure they’re not overly impressed. After all, it takes a lot of money to fund the operations of the temple. What will a mere two cent do?  But Jesus points her out because of he is more concerned with the condition of our hearts than in the amount given.[8] This woman can do what the rich man, who we met in chapter 10, wasn’t able to do.[9]

The widow who appears to pass under the radar of all the religious leaders milling around in the courtyard catches Jesus’ eye. The disciples must have missed her, too, until Jesus points her out. While she remains anonymous, like all the rest who gave to the temple this day, we recall her generosity. In a way, her story reminds us that our giving is between us and God who sees and knows all. And while she gave perhaps the smallest amount this day, her gift has inspired people for 2000 years. 

Furthermore, by giving all she had, she foreshadows what Jesus will do at the end of the week, when he offers up his life for us. And while Jesus never says we must follow her example of giving all; she serves an example of trust in the Lord and a reminder that all we have belongs to God. 

Another thing we should grasp from this passage is that Jesus doesn’t criticize the giving of the rich. Obviously the two small coins wouldn’t do much for operating the temple. There was a need for larger gifts, and they were appreciated. But Jesus didn’t come to support the status quo of the temple, for he himself would build a new temple in the hearts of his followers, one that was not bound to a particular place on earth.[10]

Finally, in this passage, we see the importance of humility. Whatever we do for the kingdom should not be done with arrogance or pride. Throughout Mark, Jesus continually attacks false piety.[11] Such deeds, cloaked in religious trappings, upset Jesus.[12]  

As our giving is between us and God, so is our faith. We shouldn’t make a big deal out of it, because our faith is ground in God’s grace, not in our doings. So, keep your faith close to your hearts, for we’re not to brag or to show off. And while Jesus didn’t say so directly, stay away from those who brag about what they’re doing for the kingdom for they may be like the scribes at the temple in the first century, full of hot air. 

Instead, as you walk through life following Jesus, trust God and, like the woman at the treasury, quietly doing what you can to further God’s kingdom. As we saw last week, this involves loving God and loving our neighbors. Amen 

[1] William J. Carl, Jr., “The Single Mother’s Mite,” The Living Pulpit (July-September 1997), 39. I used this story in another sermon on this passage in 1997.

[2] Mark 1:16-20. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/01/14/you-catch-em-hell-clean-em-jesus-begins-his-ministry/

[3] Scholars are split over Jesus ending his ministry after the rebuke of the scribes or with the woman at the treasury.  For the two sides see William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974), 441. And James R. Edwards The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 382. 

[4] https://www.texastribune.org/2025/03/12/robert-morris-texas-megachurch-indicted-sexual-abuse/

[5] For the setting of the treasury, see Lane, 442-443. 

[6] Edwards, 381. For the link to slot machines, see Chelsey Harmon, Commentary on Mark 12:38-44. https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2024-11-04/mark-1238-44-4/

[7] Douglas R. A. Hare, Mark: Westminster Bible Companion, (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), 165. The conflict over the denarius: Mark 12:13-15. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2025/03/02/opposition-to-jesus-grows/

[8] Edwards, 381. 

[9] Mark 10:17-22.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/10/20/with-god-all-things-are-possible/

[10] See John 4:21. 

[11] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 294. 

[12] Hare, 164.