Category Archives: Historical Jesus

03/30/2026

On the Unfinished Finished Work of Christ

In light of this being the week of our Lord’s passion, it is interesting to note that one of the last things that he said before he gave up his Spirit on the cross was, “It is finished.” (τετέλεσται, John 19.30). With this powerful word, Jesus declared that his work on the cross in making full atonement for sin was completed, and “bowing his head, he gave up his spirit.” It must have been a powerful scene, and no more pregnant words have perhaps ever been spoken. However, the problem is that even though Christ finished his work, sin still seems to run rampant in this world. If it is finished, why, we might ask, is the world still broken, still full of pain and suffering and sin and death? Because of this, we might be tempted to suggest that his work is unfinished. Many Christians struggle to hold together what has already been accomplished and what still remains. However, what we must realize is that Christ’s work is finished; it is fully accomplished in its foundation, but not yet fully realized in its effects. In this post, I would like to consider this tension by offering just a few thoughts on what Christ accomplished in his first coming and what waits to be realized at his second coming.

In one sense, then, it is completely accurate to say that the work of Christ has been fully accomplished, and there are at least three aspects of his work that are completely finished. First, atonement has been accomplished. When Christ died on the cross, he made the full and final payment for our sin. In systematic theology, this is called penal substitutionary atonement. In other words, this means that Christ paid the penalty (penal) that we deserve (substitutionary) for our sin. (On the fact that this was Christ’s view of his death, see here.) He died the death that we deserve by dying in our place. But he did not stay dead; he rose again on the third day. This is the second aspect of Christ’s finished work, namely that victory over death has been secured. When Jesus walked out of the grave on the third day, he defeated death and disarmed Satan of his power. Death no longer has hold over those who are in Christ. We need not fear, we can have hope, even in the face of death. (On hope in the face of death, see here.) And lastly, by dying on the cross, Christ finished his work of establishing righteousness. In other words, his finished work on the cross is now the ground upon which God grants our justification, when we place our faith in Jesus. He lived a perfect life, he died an innocent death. And his righteousness is imputed to us by faith. We are made right, declared innocent, because of Christ’s finished work. This is the gospel. Nothing needs to be added to what Christ accomplished; his work is complete, sufficient, and final. It is not partial, not provisional. It is finished!

Moreover, his finished work on the cross inaugurated several important realities in which we now live. For one, the Kingdom of God has been inaugurated. Forty days after his resurrection, Jesus ascended into heaven to be seated at the right hand of the Father, and he is now reigning with all authority on earth as it is in heaven. (Matt. 28.18) He is not waiting to become King; he is already reigning as King. And he does this by his Spirit. This is the second reality in which we now live, namely that Christ has sent his Spirit to indwell his people. The Spirit mediates Christ’s real presence in and among his people. He is the down payment, the seal, and the guarantee of our faith. And he is actively working in us to make us more like Jesus. And lastly, but certainly not leastly, new life has begun. When we place our faith in Christ, the Spirit regenerates us. He brings to life what was once spiritually dead, and we are born again. In this way we are new creatures in Christ. The old has passed away, and behold the new has come. (2 Cor. 5.17) New creation realities are already at work in us through the Spirit. In these ways, the future has already broken into the present through the risen Christ, and we live in these future realities even now.

And yet, in spite of all of this, several aspects of Christ’s work remain unfinished. Perhaps most clearly, sin still remains in the world. We have been saved from the penalty of sin, but we have not yet been saved from the presence of sin. Our world is saturated and polluted with sin at every turn. People are burdened down with sin and its consequences. Our relationships suffer, bodies are diseased, conflict and turmoil abound at every level of our society. Sin continues its reign of terror nearly unchecked. In addition to this, death still operates in this world. This world reeks with the stench of death; it fills our nostrils everywhere we turn. Our loved ones get sick and die. Accidents and tragedy take lives too soon. Christ has been raised, and death has been defeated. But death still reigns in our mortal bodies, and we ache and groan for that day when death will be no more. Thirdly, the created order groans under the weight of humanity’s sin. When our first parents fell, the creation itself was subjected to futility and decay. The idyllic paradise of Eden was lost to the corruption of sin. And lastly, justice and restoration are yet to be realized. Injustice abounds in our society. From all appearances, the weak get weaker and the strong get stronger. There is no real justice; there is no real peace. Wickedness and evil seem to grow day by day. What is wrong is celebrated as right, and what is right is condemned as wrong. The world is turned upside down, and we long for the day when justice will flow like rivers and when peace will rest upon the earth. And we cry out with the Scriptures, “How long, O Lord? How long?”

In theological parlance, this tension between the finished and the unfinished work of Christ is often referred to by the shorthand phrase “already/not yet”. It simply means that God’s plan of redemption for the world has already begun, has already been inaugurated, but has not yet been fully consummated. The work of Christ’s first coming is finished. He died on the cross, he rose again the third day, he sent his life-giving Spirit. But we are still waiting for the work of his second coming, namely the resurrection of the dead, the final judgment, and the new creation. This is the tension in which we now live, and in this tension, we must avoid two extremes. First, we must avoid living as if nothing has been finished. We must learn to rest in the finished work of Christ. We have been forgiven; we have been indwelled by His Spirit. We can have peace. On the other hand, however, we must not live as if everything is already complete. We do live under the burdens of sin and death; we do long for justice and peace. And we can have hope. The work of Christ is finished in its accomplishment, but it is unfinished in its application to the whole of creation. And so, we wait faithfully as Christ has instructed us.

And this is the point, namely that this tension is not ultimately about stages of fulfillment, though that is certainly the best framework for understanding it. Ultimately, this tension is about Christ. His work is unfinished because his story is not over. (On my argument for the centrality of Christ in our eschatological reflection, see here.) In other words, the same Jesus who said, “It is finished” is the same Jesus who is coming again to make all things new. The same Jesus who died on the cross is the same Jesus who is coming again in glory. Or to put it another way, the second coming of Jesus is not a different work; no, it is the completion of the same work that he began 2000 years ago. The second coming completes what the first coming began, because Christ himself is the fulfillment of all our hopes. Our hope is not just about what Christ has done and will do; it is about Christ himself. It is about his presence. In John 14.3, Jesus promised that he would come again and receive us unto himself, that where he is there we may be also. And so, the unfinished nature of Christ’s work is not a failure of the first coming, but the promise of the second. He is our blessed hope.

And so, yes, we live in the middle of this tension; we live in between the already and the not yet. We are already forgiven, but we are still struggling. We are already alive, yet we are still dying. We are already redeemed, yet we are still waiting. We are waiting to be set free from the presence and the corruption of sin once and for all. This is the lived reality of the Christian life—caught between what has been accomplished and what has not yet been revealed. And I suggest that we must embrace this tension with open arms, because it is only when we embrace this tension that we will be able to hope without denying the pain of our sufferings, that we can be confident without giving into naive triumphalism, and that we can have patience without being paralyzed by despair. If we collapse this tension in either direction, we lose something essential. Either we deny the reality of our present struggle, or we forget the certainty of our future hope. This is the ground that we must stand on, the already and the not yet. We do not live as those waiting for Christ to begin his work, but as those waiting for him to complete it.

When Jesus said, “It is finished.”, he surely meant it. Christ’s work is finished, and yet, it is not yet finished completely. It is finished in its foundation, but it is unfinished in its consummation. We are waiting for the full glory of Christ and his work to be finally revealed on earth. And even in acknowledging the unfinished aspects of Christ work, we must affirm that the work of the cross is not undone; it is unfolding. The resurrection is not isolated; it is expanding. And one day, we will all be raised to meet him in the air, and from that point on, we will always be with the Lord. This is our hope, namely that the Christ who finished his work on the cross is coming again to bring it to final completion. Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus! Maranatha!

Leave a comment | tags: Already and Not Yet, Ascension, Assurance, Atonement, Christ, Christ-Centered Theology, Christian Life, Christological Eschatology, Christology, Consummation, Cross, Death, Eschatology, Faith, Finished Work of Christ, Hope, It is finished, jesus, Jesus Christ, John 19:30, Justice, Justification, Kingdom of God, New Creation, Peace, Penal Substitution, Perseverance, Phillip Powers, Redemption, Resurrection, Second Coming, Sin, Suffering | posted in Biblical Theology, Historical Jesus, Practical Theology, Systematic Theology

03/09/2026

On the (Un)Importance of the Gospel of Thomas

By Phillip Powers

In my last post, I argued that the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas has little to no value when it comes to the study of the historical Jesus. However, ever since the Jesus Seminar published their book, The Five Gospels, it has become somewhat common among Jesus scholars to include Thomas as another source for Jesus studies. The Gospel of Thomas is a collection of 114 logia, or sayings, that are attributed to Jesus, most of which are enigmatic and/or aphoristic in style. For example, saying 7 reads, “Blessed is the lion which becomes man when consumed by man; and cursed is the man whom the lion consumes, and the lion becomes man.” Thomas was discovered in 1945 at Nag Hammadi among some 52 other documents, most of which are from the 4th century CE. While Thomas contains intriguing sayings, its late date, its wholesale dependence on the Synoptic tradition, and its Gnostic coloring render it of very little importance for reconstructing the historical Jesus. Its primary value lies in understanding early Christian Gnostic interpretation and theological creativity, not the life and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth.

As noted above, the Gospel of Thomas, sometimes referred to as the Secret Gospel of Thomas, contains some 114 independent sayings attributed to Jesus without any kind of narrative structure or frame. Although the complete text found at Nag Hammadi in 1945 is in Coptic and dates to the 4th century CE, it also exists in three Greek fragments previously found at Oxyrhynchus around the turn of the twentieth century that date to the mid-second century CE. Some scholars argue that the oral traditions behind these Greek texts may be earlier, but this is speculation that is not supported by any physical textual evidence. The biggest difference between Thomas and the canonical Gospels is that it is completely lacking in narrative details; it contains no geographic markers, no passion narrative, and no account of the resurrection. More often than not, it simply reworks material from the Synoptic tradition. In spite of these differences, its non-narrative, aphoristic style is perhaps part of its appeal, but it is also the reason for its interpretive challenges.

This is perhaps why many, both scholars and popular readers alike, find Thomas so intriguing. It is cryptic, wisdom-oriented, less overtly theological, and resembles Synoptic style. For many, especially those who are skeptical of the canonical accounts of Jesus, Thomas reflects a non-apocalyptic, secretive, purely ethical Jesus, which is more in keeping with modern sensibilities. For example, saying 98 reads, “The kingdom of the father is like a certain man who wanted to kill a powerful man. In his own house he drew his sword and stuck it into the wall in order to find out whether his hand could carry through. Then he slew the powerful man.” Or again, saying 77 reads, “It is I who am the light which is above them all. It is I who am the all. From me did the all come forth, and unto me did the all extend. Split a piece of wood, and I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there.” According to the scholars of the Jesus Seminar, these sayings represent independent (read secret) traditions not found in the canonical Gospels. However, these claims often overlook Thomas‘s dependence on earlier Synoptic material and its interpretive framing.

Estimates vary, but roughly half of Thomas‘s 114 sayings have parallel, often more primitive, versions in the Synoptics. For example, saying 54 reads, “Blessed are the poor, for yours is the kingdom of heaven.” This is clearly a restatement of the beatitude found in Matthew 5.3 and its parallel in Luke 6.20. Saying 55 reads, “Whoever does not hate his father and his mother cannot become a disciple to me. And whoever does not hate his brothers and sisters and take up his cross in my way will not be worthy of me.” This is taken from Matthew 10.37-38 and its parallel in Luke14.26-27. Saying 65 is simply a retelling of the parable of the vineyard owner found in Matthew 21, Mark 12, and Luke 20; saying 57 is simply a retelling of the parable of the wheat and tares found in Matthew 13. Other examples could be cited, but the point is clear, namely that the author(s) of Thomas have simply reworked Synoptic material, typically drawn from the Sermon on the Mount or the Kingdom sayings/parables of Jesus. Moreover, the ordering and grouping of these sayings typically mimics that which is found in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. This evidence clearly demonstrates the secondary literary dependence of Thomas and mitigates against arguments that it preserves independent oral traditions. To put it another way, if Thomas is so clearly dependent, then it cannot be used as an independent historical source in the study of the historical Jesus.

Beyond its late date and its dependence on the Synoptic traditions, another reason Thomas holds no value for the study of Jesus is its clear Gnostic leanings. Gnosticism is a second century syncretistic heresy that combined elements of Christianity with Jewish mysticism and Greco-Roman philosophy. It is primarily characterized by its dualistic worldview, its emphasis on hidden knowledge (gnosis) and spiritual ascent, and its devaluation of material reality. The Gospel of Thomas, as well as most of the other documents found at Nag Hammadi, clearly fall into this stream of thought. For example, saying 62 reads, “It is to those who are worthy of my mysteries that I tell my mysteries.” Saying 24 reads, “There is light within a man of light, and he lights up the whole world. If he does not shine, he is darkness.” Or again, saying 108 reads, “He who will drink from my mouth will become like me. I myself shall become he, and the things that are hidden will be revealed to him.” Clearly, sayings from the canonical Gospels have been filtered through Thomas’s Gnostic framework. This theological overlay makes Thomas more a reflection of early heretical Christian thoughts than of Jesus’ own teaching. While Gnostic themes are historically interesting for understanding the history of the early church, they further limit Thomas’s usefulness for reconstructing the historical Jesus.

Methodologically speaking, for a source to contribute meaningfully to historical reconstruction, it must be anchored in some kind of narrative frame, some cultural or geographic context, some chronological markers by which its historical veracity can be evaluated. The Gospel of Thomas is clearly lacking in this regard. It does not contain any of the details of Jesus’s life, his public ministry in Galilee, his conflicts with the Jewish authorities, or his passion, death, and resurrection. Without any anchoring in actual historical events like these, a collection of sayings cannot be attributed to Jesus with any real confidence. Therefore, using Thomas as a primary source in the study of the historical Jesus risks reconstructing him as an abstract, decontextualized, disconnected figure. Or to put it another way, a Jesus disconnected from historical realities can become anything and everything, except who he truly was. The Gospel of Thomas is simply too late, too dependent, and too Gnostic to be of any value in the study of the historical Jesus. Of course, this does not mean that Thomas has no value at all. After all, the Gospel of Thomas gives us an open window into early Christian theological creativity within heretical movements. It highlights the role of wisdom and of spiritual and mystical orientations in the beliefs of the early church. And it gives us insight into how the teachings of the historical Jesus were received and interpreted by one particularly Gnostic tradition. However, whereas canonical sources like the Synoptics and Paul ground their theological reflections in the reality of historical events, Thomas abstracts wisdom and secret knowledge from reality. In this regard, then, Thomas illuminates early Christian imagination and hermeneutics rather than the life of Jesus of Nazareth.

In light of the above evidence, I can only conclude that because Thomas is derivative and shaped by Gnostic and Synoptic traditions, it cannot be used as an independent source to reconstruct the historical Jesus. Sound theological reflection must be grounded in the historical realities of the person and work of Jesus. Or to put it another way, history grounds theology, and theology interprets history. The two must remain interconnected in the theological task. To neglect one or the other would necessarily lead us into either hardened skepticism or wild theological speculation. While Thomas is a great source for understanding early Christian diversity, it simply should not be conflated with the life of Jesus of Nazareth. Thomas may open a window onto early Christian imagination, but the historical Jesus stands firmly in the Synoptic Gospels and the apostolic testimony of the New Testament.

Leave a comment | tags: Apocryphal Gospels, Ascension, Beatitudes, Canonical Gospels, Didymus, First Century CE, Fourth Century CE, Gnosticism, Gospel of Thomas, Heresy, Historical Jesus, History and Theology, jesus, Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus Seminar, Kingdom Sayings, Literary Dependence, Logia of Jesus, Nag Hammadi, Narrative Frame, Oxyrhynchus Papyri, Passion, Phillip Powers, Proto-Gnostiicism, Resurrection, Sayings of Jesus, Second Century CE, Sermon on the Mount, Synoptic Gospels, Synoptic Traditions, Thomas | posted in Gospels Studies, Historical Jesus

03/02/2026

On Whispers of Revolution: A Book Review

By Phillip Powers

Bird, Michael F. Bird. Whispers of Revolution: Jesus and the Coming of God as King. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2025.

When we confess that Christ is King, we are tapping into a longing that goes back to the very beginning of creation. Adam and Eve were placed in the garden of Eden to serve as God’s vice-regents, to rule and to establish his dominion in the world. Of course, our first parents failed when they succumbed to the deceptions of the serpent, and from that point on, the story of the Bible revolves around God’s plan to reestablish his dominion in the world. In a new book entitled Whispers of Revolution: Jesus and the Coming of God as King, Michael F. Bird applies this lens to the person and work of Jesus of Nazareth. Bird is Deputy Principle and Lecturer in Theology at Ridley College, Melbourne, and he is the author of over 30 books, including the award winning The Gospel of Lord: How the Early Church Wrote the Story of Jesus. In this book, Bird argues that Jesus was driven by the conviction that through his words and work, through his mission and message, God was unveiling his kingship in a way that would rescue Israel and eventually restore the whole world.

Bird’s essential thesis is that the life and ministry of Jesus is best understood within the context of Jewish restoration eschatology. Jewish restoration eschatology is simply the hope that one day God would bring an end to Israel’s exile, restore their national and spiritual life as his people, and through them bring the nations into submission under his rule. This hope is grounded in the visions of the canonical prophets, and it serves as the foundation for the theology and worldview of Second Temple Judaism. For Bird, this worldview “provides the key to understanding Jesus’ mission, aims, self-understanding and hope.” (56) With this lens in view, then, Bird goes on to walk through the Gospel accounts to show how the details of the Jesus earthly ministry fit within this framework. Along the way he discusses topics such as, the birth and early life of Jesus, Jesus’ self-understanding of himself as Messiah, his teaching about the Kingdom of God and other topics, his interactions with his contemporaries, his’ last days in Jerusalem, and his death and resurrection. In all of this, God is coming, coming as king. He concludes, “Jesus himself started the whisper of this revolution, one involving a reordering of power, Israel’s regathering, the redemption of the Jews, the defeat of Satan, and the renewal of creation.” (300) However, this good news could not remain a whisper; it had to be shared, repeated, declared, argued, and even shouted afar. And this is exactly what Jesus instructed his followers to do.

In terms of strengths, Bird is particularly helpful when he is discussing the place of historical Jesus studies in relation to New Testament Theology. After all, Jesus did not write any of the books that we have included in the NT canon. Technically, the NT Documents are written about him, but none of them were actually written by him. So, we may rightly speak of the theology of Matthew or Luke or Mark or John, but can we also speak of the theology of Jesus himself? Bird suggests that the study of the historical Jesus is a necessary prolegomena o our study of NT theology. Jesus is the church’s primal theologian, and it is his teaching, his ministry, his life and death that stands at the heart of the New Testament. Therefore, we cannot simply relegate historical Jesus studies to the domain of historians alone; no, the study of historical Jesus is a fundamental component of the theologians toolbox when it comes to understanding the theology of Paul or John or Matthew or Peter or James. Bird writes, “Jesus was the first theologian of the Jesus movement, and his is the creative mind behind so much of the church’s generative tradition.” (15-16) This means that the theology of the NT should find its impetus, not exclusively but at least initially, on the lips of Jesus of Nazareth. He goes on to write that, “the study of the historical Jesus is a reminder that the ‘word became flesh’.” (17). In other words, if we truly believe that our faith in grounded in the historical realities of Jesus life and ministry, death and resurrection, then we must give the study of the historical Jesus its proper place when it comes to understanding the New Testament.

One minor reservation that I have concerns Bird’s relatively frequent appeal to the Gospel of Thomas. Thomas is a mid-to-late second-century sayings collection comprising 114 logia attributed to Jesus, many of which exhibit clear literary and thematic dependence upon Synoptic tradition. While some scholars continue to argue that Thomas may preserve independent and possibly early Jesus traditions, the case for its independence remains highly contested. In numerous instances, the parallels suggest secondary development rather than primitive preservation, and several logia reflect theological trajectories consistent with the emerging Gnostic or proto-Gnostic tendencies. To be clear, Thomas is an important witness to the reception and reinterpretation of Jesus’ sayings in the second century. However, its value for reconstructing the historical Jesus is, in my view, extremely limited. For that reason, Bird’s approximately twenty-two references to Thomas—nearly half the number of his citations of the far more substantial and canonically received Gospel of John—feel somewhat disproportionate. While these references do not materially affect his overall thesis, a more restrained use of Thomas would have strengthened the historiographical clarity of the argument.

Whispers of Revolution is not a fifth gospel but at the same time it is not merely a gospel harmony. It is historically grounded, insightful, and clarifying reconstruction of Jesus within the context of first century Judaism and its hopes for restoration. And insofar as the historical study of Jesus of Nazareth is “indispensable for religious scholarship and the life of Christian faith” (14), Bird’s book is both accessible and academically rigorous. It will be a great benefit both to lay Christians who want to understand Jesus and the gospels better and to scholars who are looking for a clear and coherent understanding of Jesus to which they can correlate their own work. And so, I would gladly recommend this book, and if I were ever to teach a course on the life of Jesus or the Gospels, I would require it for my students. When Jesus was with his disciples at Caesarea Philippi, he asked them, “Who do people say that I am?”, and then, more importantly, he asked them, “Who do you say that I am?” This is the fundamental question we must all be able to answer. Bird has answered it: Jesus was a messianic prophet of Jewish restoration in fulfillment Old Testament hopes. While Jesus was certainly more than this, he was certainly not less, and Whispers of Revolution is a great book for those who want to understand the life and times, the ministry and message of Jesus as he himself might have understood it.

1 Comment | tags: Biblical Theology, Christianity, Gnosticism, Gospel of Thomas, Gospel Traditions, Historical Jesus, jesus, Jesus and Israel, Jesus of History, Jesus of Nazareth, Kingdom of God, Messianic Expectation, Michael F. Bird, New Testament Theology, Phillip Powers, Restoration Eschatology, Restoration of Israel, Second Temple Judaism, Synoptic Gospels, Theology of Jesus, Whispers of Revolution | posted in Book Review, Historical Jesus

02/23/2026

On the Jesus of History and the Christ of Faith

By Phillip Powers

One of my favorite topics in the study of the New Testament is the historical Jesus; it is an area of study that attempts to understand Jesus as he was within the context of first century Judaism. However, many who study the historical Jesus argue that the Jesus of history (the first century Jewish teacher) is not the Christ of faith (the exalted Lord proclaimed by the church). In other words, the early church’s understanding of Jesus has been embellished and augmented by influences that go well beyond who Jesus actually was and what he taught. This presupposition is one of the the primary factors that originally inspired the now century old quest(s) for the historical Jesus. Of course, we must affirm that historical investigation is indispensable for understanding the person and work of Jesus, but the hard distinction between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith collapses under the weight of the earliest evidence. The church’s confession of Christ emerges not as a departure from Jesus, but as the historically grounded interpretation of his life, death, and resurrection. In the space that follows, I would like to defend this thesis by examining why history matters, where the split came from, and why the evidence actually favors continuity and not discontinuity.

It would seem to be readily evident that the historical study of the New Testament is essential for understanding the Christian faith. This is because Christianity makes several direct and specific claims about real events that took place in historical space and time. So understanding these events and their historical and theological significance is a matter of first importance when it comes to understanding our faith. As a case in point, when the eternal Son came incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ, he stepped into a particular place at a particular time, the fullness of time according to Galatians 4.4. In other words, the doctrine of the incarnation requires some historical understanding of the place and time when Jesus was born. In fact, the Gospels themselves are anchored in the geography, personalities, and events of the first century Palestine. The point is that if Jesus is severed from the places and times in which he lived, then we run the risk of distorting the significance of his life and teaching. More than this, we run the risk of reshaping Jesus into a man of our making, as a some kind of modern therapist or social reform mascot. The bottom line is that the hard work of history disciplines our theology and grounds it in the life of our savior as he lived it. Or to put it more simply, to confess that the Word became flesh is to confess that history matters.

The point of this is to say that historical inquiry is not the enemy of faith. The problem comes when we presume to dictate what history is allowed to contain. During the Enlightenment of the 18th Century, philosophers and historians began to doubt the details of the New Testament’s depictions of Jesus. Because of their presuppositions about the supremacy of human reason in the pursuit of truth, they were highly skeptical of the Gospels’ accounts of Jesus’s miracles, particularly his resurrection. Their skepticism resulted in an approach to history that might be called methodological naturalism, or the idea that anything that even remotely smells like it might be supernatural must be ruled out as a theological fabrication. Ultimately, their dismissal of the miracles of Jesus, particularly his resurrection, led them to conclude that the church’s high Christology, or its understanding of Jesus as the divine Lord of heaven, must be a late addition to the New Testament that has nothing to do with who Jesus was and what he did and taught during his lifetime, a conclusion which had more to do with their own presuppositions than with any actual analysis of the evidence. The real question, however, is not whether the theology of the early church developed over time (it clearly did), but the question is whether that development moved away from Jesus or unfolded from within the impact of his life and resurrection. An examination of the earliest documents clearly demonstrates that this is in fact what happened.

Now, the earliest Christian documents are the 13 letters of Paul, which were likely written between the years 49 CE and 68 CE. (The earliest of these is most likely 1 Thessalonians, and the latest is 2 Timothy.) Important for this post is the fact that several of these letters include embedded hymns and creedal material that clearly exalt Jesus as the divine Lord. For example, in Philippians 2.6, he “existed in the form of God,” and in Colossians 1.15, “He is the image of the invisible God.” In 1 Corinthians 8.6, the Apostle writes, “for us there is one God, the Father. All things are from him, and we exist for him. And there is one Lord, Jesus Christ. All things are through him, and we exist through him.” This is clearly a reworking of the Shema (Deut 6.4) which equates Jesus with the God of Israel. Even outside of Paul, in Hebrews 1.3, Jesus is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact expression of his nature, sustaining all things by his powerful word.” And in James 5.9 (possibly the earliest document in the New Testament), he is “the judge [who] stands at the door!” The point of all this is to show that the church’s so called “high Christology” developed very early in the life of the church, and that within the context of strict Jewish monotheism. And so the question must be asked, “How did first century Jews come to worship Jesus as God so quickly?” The only possible answer is that the seeds of this belief were already present in the life and ministry of Jesus.

Of course, Jesus never articulated his identity in the language of the Nicaean Creed, but he clearly acted with divine authority. When the Pharisees ask, “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” Jesus says to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven. Get up, take your mat, and go home.” (Mark 2.1-12) When his disciples were rebuked for picking heads of grain on the sabbath, he responded, “For the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.” (Matthew 12.1-8) He calmed the storms, he healed the sick, he cast out demons, he raised the dead. He equated his body with the temple, and he proclaimed a Kingdom of God that centered on his own person and work. And when the High Priest asked him if he was indeed the Christ, he responded, ““I am, and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming with the clouds of heaven,” to which the High Priest responded by accusing him of blasphemy. (Mark 14.61-64) As a side note, the title Son of Man is most likely taken from Daniel 7, where Daniel sees “one like a son of Man” approaching the Ancient of Days to be vindicated and enthroned as king. The identity of this “one like a Son of Man” is debated, but it is highly likely that Daniel understood him as (quasi) divine figure. The point is that Jesus made several extraordinarily “high” claims about himself, claims that clearly threatened the Jerusalem religious establishment and eventually got him killed.

Moreover, the church did not invent these categories out of thin air; rather, it interpreted the shock of Jesus’ life and resurrection within the context and storyline of Israel’s Scriptures. And for them, the resurrection was the decisive interpretive key. The historical plausibility of the resurrection is practically certain given the cumulative effect of the evidence. The earliest confessions assume the truth of the resurrection (1 Cor 15.3-8). The earliest disciples went from fearing for their lives in the upper room to boldly proclaiming the truth of the resurrection in the temple square. The first witnesses of the resurrection were a couple of women whose testimony would have been viewed as untrustworthy in their day. All eleven of the disciples went to their deaths preaching Christ as risen from the dead, and the apostle Paul went from hateful persecutor of Christians to the most effective preacher and missionary in the early church. In other words, the resurrection was a central component of the early church’s belief, and its exalted understanding of Jesus flows naturally from this belief. If Christ was truly raised from the dead, then he truly was who he said he was, i.e. “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” The point is that the Christ of the church’s faith is what the Jesus of history looks like after Easter. Without the resurrection, a hard divide makes sense, but with the resurrection, the continuity between the two becomes inherently plausible. Or to put it another way, the resurrection is not some theological embroidery added to the story of the historical Jesus. No, it is the primary engine of the early church’s “high” Christology.

The bottom of line is simply this, namely that the hard division between historical events and their theological significance is a false dichotomy. There simply is no such thing as uninterpreted history; all historical events are immediately interpreted. The moment something happens, it is interpreted. The question, then, is not whether theology exists, but whether it faithfully corresponds to what actually occurred. In other words, theology is not the corruption of history; it is reflection upon it. And when it comes the person and work of Jesus, the Gospel accounts are just historical testimony that has been shaped by conviction. The faith of the early church was an organic and continuous development that grew out of the life and teaching of the historical Jesus, and the earliest confessions of Christ are best understood as historically grounded worship. If we separate the Jesus of history from the Christ of faith, the our faith becomes mere myth layered on memory. Jesus came incarnate at a particular time in a concrete place, and he was resurrected and he ascended to be seated at the right hand of the Father. And this is why both the history of Jesus and the faith of the early church matter. The one worshiped in the church is not a theological invention layered upon a forgotten Galilean. He is the crucified and risen Jesus of Nazareth. There is theological development, yes. There is interpretation, certainly. But there is no canyon between the Jesus who walked the hills of Galilee and the Christ that the church confesses as Lord. There is continuity — deep, historical, and theologically unavoidable continuity between the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith.

Leave a comment | tags: Christ of Faith, Christian Origins, Continuity, Discontinuity, Early Church, Enlightenment, Faith, First Century Judaism, Fullness of Time, Hebrews, High Christology, Historical Jesus, History, Incarnation, James, Jesus Christ, Jesus of History, John, Luke, Mark, Matthew, Paul, Phillip Powers, Quest of the Historical Jesus, Resurrection, Son of Man, Theology | posted in Gospels Studies, Historical Jesus

02/11/2026

On the Red Letters and the Authentic Words of Jesus

By Phillip Powers

Most English versions of the Bible print the words of Jesus in the Gospels in red letters. It is a tradition that goes back nearly a century. The first red-letter New Testament was published in 1899; the full Bible with a red-letter New Testament was printed two years later in 1901. The reason for this practice is relatively clear, namely to highlight the words of Jesus over against the surrounding narrative and commentary. As noble as this aim is, it can lead to some unhealthy conclusions and applications. Readers might be tempted to conclude that the red letters are more important, more valuable, and more primary than the rest of the New Testament. For example, some so-called “red letter Christians” pit the words of Jesus against the rest of the New Testament and purport to follow the social ethic of Jesus which is characterized by love and compassion rather than the more conservative theology and ethics of the Apostle Paul et al. However, if Jesus is fully God, and there is only one God, and if God inspired the whole Bible, then in a sense all of the words of the Bible, whether black or red, are the words of Jesus.

Of course, this does not mean that the actual content of Jesus’s teaching ministry is unimportant. When it comes to the quest of the historical Jesus, the details of what Jesus said and did are essential for understanding who Jesus was and what he came to do. This is why scholars of the historical Jesus developed criteria of authenticity to determine which sayings in the canonical gospels authentically come from Jesus and which ones do not. Criteria like multiple attestation, dissimilarity, coherence, embarrassment and others like these are used to decide the authenticity of each individual saying or pericope. However, more often than not, these criteria have been used to dismiss more sayings than they have proven. This is most evident in work of the Jesus Seminar and their book The Five Gospels: What did Jesus Really Say? The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus. Instead of establishing the authentic words of Jesus, they dismissed some 82 % of the sayings attributed to Jesus in the canonical Gospels either as things he definitely did not say (black bead) or as things he did not say but that might be close to his ideas (grey bead). Even sayings that met the established criteria were dismissed as inauthentic. This proves that there was probably another criteria at play in their judgment, that being if a saying evinced a relatively high Christology, then it was not authentic in their view.

More to the point, in my recent book review of Jesus and His Promised Second Coming by Tucker S. Ferda (see here), I suggested that the search for the “authentic” sayings of the historical Jesus in the gospels is a fundamentally flawed endeavor from the outset. This is because the Gospel writers did not set out to record the words of Jesus verbatim (ipsissima verba). They did, however, attempt to convey the words of Jesus by way of summary, thematic arrangement, implication, and interpretation. In other words, they were conveying the essential substance of the words of Jesus as well as it theological significance (ipsissima vox or substantia verba). This is partly because the Gospels are based on traditions that were passed down orally from the time of Jesus until the time the Gospels were composed. Even if the composition of the Gospels is dated early, i.e. in the 40s or 50s CE, then we are talking about 10+ years that have passed from the time Jesus to the time when the sayings of Jesus were written down. The point is that if “authentic” is understood to mean the actual words that Jesus spoke verbatim as he spoke to them, then we are searching for something that will never be found.

On the other hand, we must affirm that the Gospel writers were not simply making things up as they went along, putting words into the mouth of Jesus that he never said or thought. This is sometimes compared to the children’s game of “telephone”, where the first child hears a sentence, and then passes it along to the next child by whispering in their ear, and on to the next and so on. More often than not, when the final child reports the sentence, the final version is a far cry from the original, and usually so horribly garbled as to be beyond recognition. This analogy is a caricature of the actual nature of oral transmission. Not only was the culture at the time of Jesus thoroughly oral, but the Jews in particular took the transmission of oral tradition highly seriously. The Old Testament scriptures commanded them to pass on their faith orally from generation to generation, and Jewish children were trained in this from an early age in the temple and synagogues. The faithful transmission of oral tradition was practically sacrosanct in Jewish culture, and given the recognized authority of Jesus as a rabbi, the gospels writers would never have thought to put their own thoughts and agendas into his mouth. The same could be said for so-called prophetic utterances given by the risen Jesus; these would never have been treated as on par with actual Jesus tradition. As Luke himself indicates in the opening of his Gospel (1:1-4), the Gospel writers were faithfully writing down that which they had also remembered and received.

Now, someone might object, “What about the doctrine of inspiration? Weren’t the Gospel writers inspired by the Holy Spirit and so kept from error?” And I would answer, “Yes! Of course they were!” (2 Tim 3:16-17). But inspiration is not dictation. The Gospel writers were not mindless automatons simply transcribing by rote. Here again, Luke’s introduction indicates that he had done his research, had talked to eyewitnesses, had done the hard work “to write carefully and in order.” In other words, inspiration does not negate the normal processes of research and writing. In inspiration, the Holy Spirit works in, with, and through the human author in such a way that their words are his words. Moreover, the method of inspiration varies according to the genre of the literature being inspired. Clearly, prophetic texts, “thus saith the Lord” were directly inspired speech, but historical narrative, epistles, et al. allow for the creative engagement of the human author with the work of the Holy Spirit. B. B. Warfield puts it this way in The Inspiration and Authority of the Bible,

The Scriptures, in other words, are conceived by the writers of the New Testament as through and through God’s book, in every part expressive of His mind, given through men after a fashion which does no violence to their nature as men, and constitutes the book also men’s book as well as God’s, in every part expressive of the mind of its human authors.

The point of all this is to say that the Gospel writers have faithfully conveyed to us the real and true words of Jesus even if they have not conveyed to us his exact words. So, we should not take individual sayings (or even whole pericopes) out of their narrative context and then dismiss them as wholly inauthentic. This is a fundamentally flawed method of historical and exegetical inquiry. Rather we should attempt to understand how the words and actions of Jesus fit within the context of first century Judaism and how they gave rise to the theology and practice of the early church. As to whether we should continue to print the words of Jesus is red letters, I am of mixed opinion. Further, I suspect that my views on the question will do nothing to unseat standard publishing practice. Nevertheless, we must understand that there is no portion of Holy Scripture that is more authoritative, more valuable, more transformative than any other. Whether we are dealing with the letters of Paul or with the words of Jesus in the Gospels, we are dealing with the Word of God, and it is He who is speaking to us when we read. And so we should ask the Lord to give us the ears to hear and the hearts to receive what the Spirit is saying to us.

Leave a comment | tags: Authenticity, bible, Canonical Gospels, Criteria of Authenticity, Gospel of Luke, Historical Jesus, Holy Bible, Holy Scripture, Holy Spirit, Inauthenticity, Inspiration, ipsissima verba, ipsissima vox, jesus, Jesus Christ, Jesus Seminar, Jesus Tradition, Luke, Oral Transmission, Phillip Powers, Red Letter Christians, Red Letters, Sayings of Jesus, substantia verba, Synoptic Gospels, Synoptic Problem, The Five Gospels, Verbal Plenary Inspiration, Words of Jesus | posted in Gospels Studies, Historical Jesus

02/06/2026

On Jesus and His Promised Second Coming: A Book Review

By Phillip Powers

Ferda, Tucker S. Jesus and His Promised Second Coming: Jewish Eschatology and Christian Origins. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2024.

One of the convictions that has Christians now for 2000 years is the expectation that Jesus will come again at the end of history to judge the living and the dead and to establish his kingdom on earth. This “blessed hope” (Titus 2:13) has been the confession of followers of Jesus from the very beginning of Christian history, as evidenced in the Apostle’s Creed. The problem is that this belief has somewhat of an embarrassment in the study of the historical Jesus. In other words, if Jesus truly believed that he would come again in the lifetime of “this generation” (Matthew 16:28, et al.), then either he made a simple mistake in his calculations or he was horribly deluded as to his understanding of himself and his role in the final consummation of all things. Scholars have typically followed two approaches in order to alleviate this embarrassment. On the one hand, there is a widespread consensus among critical scholars that the second coming is a belief that was created by the first followers of Jesus, and it does not go back to the historical Jesus. On the other, a large number of “evangelical” scholars have reinterpreted the coming of Jesus metaphorically/symbolically as a coming in judgment and have applied it to the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD.

In his most recent book, Jesus and His Promised Second Coming: Jewish Eschatology and Christian Origins, Tucker S. Ferda (Errett M. Grable Associate Professor of New Testament Exegesis and Early Christianity at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary) challenges both of these approaches by arguing that the second coming hope goes back to the historical Jesus. He advances this argument in four parts. In the first section, he considers questions related to historical and interpretive method, and he critiques certain “atomistic” approaches that attempt to sift through the Gospels in order to find the authentic sayings of Jesus and then then from them try to construct the beliefs of Jesus. In Ferda’s view, this methodological approach has it completely backward. Instead, he suggests that we should start with the beliefs of the early church as they are presented in the New Testament documents and then attempt to construct a plausible scenario that how these beliefs came to be. In the second section, Ferda considers the history of scholarship on the question of the Second Coming, and he identifies certain presuppositions and biases that have contributed to the current state of affairs. Particularly, he suggests that certain elitist and antisemitic tendences among scholars have caused them to want to distance Jesus from “outlandish” apocalyptic beliefs of Second Temple Judaism. In the third section, in keeping with the method that he outlined in section one, Ferda surveys the Gospels and and writings of Paul to demonstrate the widespread and ubiquitous belief in the Second Coming that characterized the early church, and finally, in section four, he offers a historical reconstruction of the Sitz im Leben Jesu (the life and ministry context of Jesus) which he believes explains the Second Coming beliefs of the early church and how they arose from the teaching and beliefs of the historical Jesus.

In the space that remains, I would simply like to identify two strengths and two weaknesses that stand out in Ferda’s work. First, Ferda’s critique of certain “atomistic” approaches to the study of the historical Jesus is spot on. So many reconstructions of the historical Jesus have relied on application of the so-called criterion of (in)authenticity to the saying of Jesus. In this approach, scholars utilize criteria like dissimilarity, multiple attestation, embarrassment, et al., to identify which sayings of Jesus in the Gospels are authentic . However, in practice, these criteria have led to the dismissal of more sayings of Jesus than they have authenticated. Moreover, this approach simply does not appreciate the what the Gospels actually are. They are not verbatim recordings of the teaching of Jesus; the Gospel writers were not attempting to record and convey the ipsissima verba (the very words) of Jesus. Given the literary and historical nature of Gospels, it is much more likely that they convey the ipsissima vox (the very voice) or the substantia verba (the substance of the words) of Jesus. So, the search for “authentic” sayings of the historical Jesus is a fundamentally flawed endeavor to begin with; it is not possible. Ferda’s alternative approach accounts for this by treating the Gospels as theological/interpretive history, and moving backward from how the church understood and interpreted Jesus to what Jesus likely understood and believed. In other words, it attempts to explain how the beliefs and expectations of the historical Jesus fit both within the context of Second Temple Judaism and how they give rise to the beliefs and hopes of the early church.

The second strength in Ferda’s argument has to do with his thorough and nuanced handling of messianic expectations in the Second Temple period. It is widely recognized that expectations for who the Messiah would be and what he would do were quite diverse during the time of Jesus. Of course, the liberation and restoration of Israel was foundational for these hopes, but expectations for how this would be accomplished were far from uniform. However, it seems relatively clear that book of Daniel played a primary role in the formulation of these expectations, and especially so for Jesus and his understanding of himself as the Son of Man. In his analysis of these expectations, Ferda clearly demonstrates the plausibility of Jesus’ belief in his own Second Coming. Moreover, he clarifies how notions of imminence and delay fit together in these scenarios. He writes, “It is also important to note that messianic hopes, varied though they were, frequently envisioned some kind of process of inauguration, whereby the coming of a messianic figure is climactic but does not necessarily change history instantaneously.” (390) The point is that the idea of imminence need not be equated with immediacy, and it need not preclude the idea Jesus expected an interim period between his death/resurrection and his coming in glory and power. Not only is this tension between imminence and interim present in the expectations of Second Temple Judaism, it is highly likely that it was a characteristic component of the eschatological expectations of the historical Jesus.

Overall, I think Ferda has made a strong and persuasive case for the idea that the Second Coming hope goes back to Jesus himself. Of course, this does not mean that I agree with every detail of his argument, and here I will identify two that stand out. First. while he is right to reject approaches that attempt to sift the Gospels for authentic sayings of Jesus, from time to time he still dismisses sayings that he considers clearly inauthentic. For example, he writes, “The threefold passion and resurrection predictions are highly suspect as they conveniently predict what exactly took place in Jerusalem (Mark 8.31, 9.30-32, 10.32-34, and parr.).” (327) In other words, because Jesus predicts the exact events that will unfold as to his death/resurrection, these predictions cannot be authentic sayings of the historical Jesus. This is a dismissive statement that reads more like a bias than an evidence based conclusion. Moreover, he goes on to argue that it is entirely plausible that Jesus had considered the possibility of his own death and that he likely expected to die in Jerusalem. Setting aside the question of Jesus’s understanding of his resurrection, it is not clear why Jesus could expect to die but not predict that he would be killed. Moreover, as noted above, the decision on whether a saying is authentic or inauthentic is at best not helpful and at worst irrelevant.

Secondly, as I noted above, Ferda makes a convincing case that Jesus’s understanding of imminence need not entail that the kingdom would come and that the would return within his own lifetime, especially since it is clear that he expected that he would die (rise again, and ascend). It is a truism to say that the proclamation of Jesus was characterized by the notion of imminence. However, how the notion of imminence should be understood is widely debated. Even though Ferda acknowledges the presence of a delay in Jesus’s expectations, he attempts to salvage the idea of imminence by limiting it to “this generation”, meaning that Jesus expected that he would come back within the lifetimes of his audience or a timespan of approximately 40 years. This is based on statements like the one found in Matthew 16:28, which says, “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom,” or Matthew 24.34, “Truly I tell you, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things take place.” These verses, and their parallels, are widely debated. Moreover, if Ferda’s interpretation is correct, then it is not clear how this saves Jesus from error. If he believed that he would come back within 40 years, and he clearly did not, then he was still wrong about his understanding of his coming. This is a fundamental question. Ferda doesn’t acknowledge the implications of his statements in this regard, nor does he attempt to resolve this tension. (See how I have attempted to address this problem, here.)

In the final analysis, we need not be ashamed to confess that “He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end.” (Nicene Creed). This is our blessed hope, and to deny this in any way is to countenance heresy. It simply will not do to explain it away as a creation of the early church, and it will not do to reinterpret it as a metaphor or symbol. Jesus is coming again, visibly, bodily, in glory and power, to establish his kingdom on earth, to vindicate his people, and to defeat sin once and for all. Tucker S. Ferda has effectively demonstrated the plausibility that the church’s belief goes back to Jesus himself. Of course, he has not answered every question, and there is still more work to be done in terms of understanding the eschatology of the historical Jesus and how it is presented in Gospels particularly but also in the rest of the New Testament. But even if every question cannot be answered or every detail explained, followers of Jesus can boldly proclaim, “Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!”

1 Comment | tags: Apocalyptic Eschatology, Christianity, Criteria of Authenticity, Daniel, Daniel's Visions, Death of Jesus, Delay, Eschatology, Eschatology of Jesus, Faith, First Century Judaism, Historical Jesus, Imminence, Interim, ipsissima verba, ipsissima vox, jesus, Jesus and His Promised Second Coming, Jesus Christ, Messianic Expectations, Parousia, Phillip Powers, Return, Return of Christ, Sayings of Jesus, Second Coming, Second Coming of Christ, Second Temple Judaism, substantia verba, The Coming of Christ, The Second Coming of Christ, Tucker S. Ferda | posted in Book Review, Gospels Studies, Historical Jesus

12/04/2025

On the Wonder of the Incarnation and Whether Mary Knew

By Phillip Powers

Christmas really is one of my most favorite times of the year. I love the decorations, the gifts, the parties, and the church Christmas programs, but most of all I love the music. The traditional Christmas carols, the sacred Christmas hymns, they just give me all the feels when it comes to Christmas; in the car, at home, at church, you will almost always find me listening to Christmas music during the month of December. And one of my most favorite Christmas songs is the song “Mary, Did You Know?”, and my most favorite arrangement of the song is performed by Mark Lowry with the acapella group Voctave singing backup (posted above). Mark Lowry wrote the lyrics in 1985 when he was asked to write a script for a church Christmas play, and the lyrics were put to music in 1991 by Buddy Greene. Of course, it has been recorded by many varied recording artists over the years, both secular and sacred, and it is sung and played regularly during Christmas programs in churches all across the United States and, no doubt, around the world.

However, every year it seems, I read some renewed or repeated criticism of the song on social media. Some attempt to dismiss the song theologically, citing the Annunciation and the Magnificat as evidence that “she knew”. I have even seen some who have attempted to go line by line through the song to give a yes or no answer to each rhetorical question. Similarly, those in the Roman Catholic tradition take issue with the suggestion that Mary needed to be “delivered” and “made new” because of their (erroneous) beliefs about the sinlessness of Mary. Others argue that the song is mawkish, sappy, and infantilizing, that it is “the most sexist Christmas song ever written,” or that it “treats her like a clueless child.” Still others dismiss the song simply because it is overplayed and/or poorly performed by well-meaning church members during the Christmas season as “special” music. And to be honest, when I read criticisms like these, I just shake my head and wonder how we have lost our wonder at the miracle of the incarnation.

Biblically, it is true that Luke presents Mary as a paragon of faith. When she is confronted by the angel Gabriel with the news that she will conceive by the Holy Spirit and give birth to the Son of God, she responds with simple faith, “See, I am the Lord’s servant. May it happen to me as you have said.” (Luke 1.38) And her Magnificat (Luke 1.46-55) clearly indicates that she understood that this was a pivotal moment in the unfolding of God’s plan of redemption for the world. However, we also know that at one point during his earthly ministry, she came with her other children to try to hide Jesus away because they thought he was an embarrassment to the family. (Mark 3:31-35, parallels Matthew 12.46-50, Luke 8.19-21) Time and again, the Gospels detail how the first followers of Jesus struggled to fully understanding the significance of who he was and what he had come to do, and we should assume that Mary would have been no different. We know that Mary treasured and pondered all these things in her heart, but the Bible is clear that the first followers of Jesus, including Mary and his brothers, grew in their understanding of the person and work of Jesus over the course of his life and ministry and that they did not understand him in full until after his resurrection and the coming of the Spirit.

The point is that we should not underestimate the richness of what it means for God to become flesh. When Jesus was born in the Bethlehem 2000 years ago, there was already plenty of theological and cultural expectations as to what he was supposed to be and do. But Jesus turned those expectations on their heads, and he demonstrated that he is a Messiah who cannot be fit into a preconceived box. And as his followers, we should never lose our wonder at this fact. Jesus will always be more than we could possibly hope to comprehend; we will never have him fully figured out. Even when we reach glory, we are told that “He had a name written that no one knows except himself.” (Revelation 19.12) This means that even then there will be more to learn and understand about him when he returns as glorious king. We must never lose our wonder at the person and work of Jesus. Even the things we think we know about him pale in comparison to the fullness of his glory.

And so, when we hear the song “Mary, Did You Know?” this Christmas season, we shouldn’t try to dissect it theologically. We shouldn’t dismiss it because of its musical style, its tone and perspective, or even its emotionality. We should allow it to spur our reflections, to feed our wonder, to drive us to worship the God who became flesh for our sakes, who suffered and died in our place, and who is coming again to receive us unto himself. The song is an artistic, poetic reflection on the miracle of Christmas and the sheer mystery of the incarnation. Mary was in a unique position to feel the weight and wonder of it all, and at Christmas, it is right for us to enter into her experience, to ponder anew what it must have been like, and to fall down in worship of the God who became flesh. This Christmas, let us rekindle our wonder. Let us stand in awe and silence, and let us rejoice in the fact that we have a savior who came to heal our brokenness, to free us from sin, and to restore in us the joy of living in his presence. He is Emmanuel; He is God with us!

Leave a comment | tags: Advent, Annunication, Awe, Bethlehem, Christmas, Christmas Carols, Christmas Hymns, Christmas Programs, Emmanuel, Faith, Gabriel, Glory of Christ, God, Gospel, Holy Spirit, Hope, Incarnation, jesus, Jesus Christ, Jesus is King, Magnificat, Mark Lowry, Mary, Mary and Joseph, Mary Did You Know, Phillip Powers, The Birth of Jesus, Virgin Birth, Wonder, Worship | posted in Devotional, Gospels Studies, Historical Jesus, Spiritual Formation, Worship & Liturgy

03/10/2025

On Jesus was Born to Reign

By Phillip Powers

TEXT

²⁶In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, ²⁷to a virgin engaged to a man named Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. ²⁸And the angel came to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you.” ²⁹But she was deeply troubled by this statement, wondering what kind of greeting this could be. ³⁰Then the angel told her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. ³¹Now listen: You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. ³²He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of his father David. ³³He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom will have no end.”

³⁴Mary asked the angel, “How can this be, since I have not had sexual relations with a man?” ³⁵The angel replied to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore, the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. ³⁶And consider your relative Elizabeth—even she has conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called childless. ³⁷For nothing will be impossible with God.” ³⁸“See, I am the Lord’s servant,” said Mary. “May it happen to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.

Title: On Jesus was Born to Reign
Text: Isaiah 9.6-7, Luke 1. 26-38, Matthew 2.1-12, Revelation 11.15-19
Series: Promises Fulfilled
Church: Redeemer Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR
Date: December 29, 2024

Leave a comment | tags: Advent, Already and Not Yet, Birth of Jesus, David, Everlasting Father, Fulfillment, Herod the Great, Isaiah, Jesus Christ, Kingdom of God, Luke, Mary, Massacre of the Innocents, Matthew, Messiah, Mighty God, Phillip Powers, Prince of Peace, Prophecy, Redeemer Baptist Church, Revelation, Virgin Birth, Wonderful Counselor | posted in Biblical Theology, Historical Jesus, Sermons

03/29/2024

On the Trinity, the Cross, and the Cry of Dereliction

By Phillip Powers

Today is Good Friday, a day when Christians around the world will pause to think about the death of Jesus Christ. It is a scene that has gripped the imaginations of Christian artists and sculptors now for two millennia, the Son of God hanging, naked, beaten, and bleeding, nailed to a Roman cross, and left to die. The brutal and gory realities of the scene would probably turn even the strongest of stomachs. And yet, for followers of Jesus, the words of the old hymn writer capture it well, “O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world, has a wondrous attraction for me.” This is because for those whose sins have been washed away by the shed blood of Christ, there is simply nothing more beautiful, nothing more deeply profound, than the substitutionary death of Son of God.

The profundity of the scene is best expressed in the words of Jesus; “About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Elí, Elí, lemá sabachtháni?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” (Matthew 27.46) This “cry of dereliction”, which Jesus quotes from Psalm 22.1, is typically explained as the moment in which the full weight of God’s wrath toward sin was placed on the Son, and because God is essentially holy and cannot look upon sin, “the father turned his face away”, as we often sing. Of course, I am not sure that we will ever understand what Jesus was feeling in that moment, but the significance of the moment invites us to spend the next few moments attempting to understanding its theological implications.

And our reflection on this scene must begin with the affirmation of the hypostatic union, or the truth that Jesus was both God and man. He was God the Son incarnate. So, what might it mean for the Son to be “abandoned” by the Father? From a trinitarian perspective, it cannot mean that the godhead was divided in any kind of way. We confess that the God of the Bible is three in one – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – one in essence, three in person. As a corollary, we confess that there is one God; we are not tri-theists. So, if there is only one God, then, it is metaphysically impossible for God to be divided from himself. In other words, the “cry of dereliction” cannot be understood to imply a separation or a division of the Father from the Son, or of God from himself.

Secondly, the doctrine of the Trinity also implies the idea of inseparable operations, meaning that whatever the Father does, the Son and the Holy Spirit do also, because there is only one God. This means that when the Father poured out His wrath on Jesus at the cross, that wrath belonged equally to the Son and the Spirit as well. So, it is completely accurate to say that the Son poured out His own wrath toward sin on Himself at the cross. This is the beauty of the Gospel, namely that what the justice of God required the love of God supplied. God took into Himself, in the person of Jesus Christ, the wrath that we deserve, so that we could be saved from His wrath. This truth should always leave us absolutely breathless and without words.

So, can we still sing the words “the father turned His face away”? I think yes; as Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:21, “He made the one who did not know sin to be sin for us.” One commentator that I recently read explains, “In a sense beyond human comprehension, God treated Christ as ‘sin,’ aligning him so totally with sin and its dire consequences that from God’s viewpoint he became indistinguishable from sin itself.” Jesus knew this to be his fate. He was fully and completely human, and, on the night He was betrayed, the burden of this task was so heavy that it caused even to sweat great drops of blood. Whatever the god-man felt in that moment, hanging there as the perfect and final sacrifice for our sin, is simply beyond our capability to fathom. Nevertheless, it was a fate that He willingly embraced for the sake of our salvation. And so we sing,

In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,
a wondrous beauty I see,
for ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,
to pardon and sanctify me.

For further study, see
Matthew Emerson, “Parameters for Talking about the the Cry of Dereliction” (March 27, 2018)
and “Canonical Parameters for Talking about the Cry of Dereliction” (April 3, 2018)

Leave a comment | tags: 2 Corinthians 5.21, Atonement, Crucifixion, Cry of Dereliction, God, Good Friday, Gospel of Mark, How Deep the Father's Love for Us, Hypostatic Union, Incarnation, jesus, Jesus Christ, Matthew 27.46, Phillip Powers, Propitiation, Psalm 22, Salvation, Sin, The Father turned His face away, The Old Rugged Cross, Trinity, Wrath of God | posted in Historical Jesus, Systematic Theology, Worship & Liturgy

04/03/2023

On the Events of Holy Week

By Phillip Powers

The events of Holy Week stand as the climax of the public ministry of Jesus in the Gospel accounts. All four of the Gospel writers devote almost half of their material to these events. Clearly, they intended for this story to stand at the center of our reflection on the person and work of Jesus. However, for most modern Christians, the events of Holy Week receive only a passing nod. Of course, we look forward to Easter and the cultural dressings that accompany it, and most churches emphasize the resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday, whether through song, sermon, or drama. But other than that, the final week of our Lord’s life mostly goes unacknowledged in the reflection and devotion of many people who call themselves His followers. As the Apostle James would say, “My brothers and sisters, these things should not be this way.” (James 3.10) The person and work of our Lord Jesus Christ should be the central focus of our reflection, not only during Holy Week, but every week of the year, because He is the never ending source of the sustaining grace that we need to live as His followers. So, in the space that follows, I would like to briefly sketch out the daily events of Holy week, so that we may grow in our understanding of what He accomplished on our behalf.

Palm Sunday
On Palm Sunday, Jesus made His triumphant entry into Jerusalem. This was His official presentation before the Jerusalem religious establishment as the long-awaited Messianic King. Matthew informs us that this event is the fulfillment of the prophecy of Zechariah 9.9 (Matthew 21.4-5), and we have this confirmed by the shouts of the Galilean pilgrims who sang “Hosanna” (Mark 11.9-10). However, as elated and joyous as the crowds were that day, we know that there is darkness on the horizon. Even as He was approaching the Holy City, He paused to weep over their lack of faith (Luke 19.41-44). It is likely that many of those who joined in the procession that day expected that this would be the day when Jesus would overthrow the Romans and establish Israel as an independent kingdom, and yet His disciples knew that He had already predicted three times that He would be crucified in Jerusalem. So, even as the disciples celebrated the arrival of Messiah, they waited with bated breath as His public ministry began to approach its primary purpose.

Monday
The last thing Jesus did on Sunday before retiring to Bethany for the night was to inspect the Temple (Mark 11.11), and in the subsequent scenes, the Gospel writers make it clear what He found there. On Monday, as they were heading back into the city, Jesus happened upon a fig tree that appeared to be fruitful, but finding it empty, He cursed it. It subsequently withered. In between these scenes, we have the familiar story of the temple cleansing. The implication is clear; the temple (and the Jerusalem religious establishment that it represents) was fruitless and empty. Though it had all the right external dressings, it was empty of any and all spiritual substance. And so, in what can only be described as a public act of prophetic judgment, Jesus clears the temple and begins to teach the people. This act was the final straw for the Jewish religious leaders, and from that point on, they began to look intently for a way to kill Him.

Tuesday, the “Day of Controversy”
On Tuesday of His passion, Jesus returned to the “scene of the crime”, so to speak, and as He was walking through the Temple, various factions representing the leadership of the Jewish religious establishment began to question him. The first question that they ask is the most telling and sets the tone for the rest of the day. “By what authority are you doing these things? Who gave you this authority to do these things?” they asked, in what was clearly an accusatory manor. It is obvious that their questions were not in earnest, and each successive interaction reveals their scheme with more clarity. But as the “Day of Controversy” unfolds, Jesus ably avoids their traps, and in the process, He exposes the true nature of their problem. Time and again, He brings the discussion back to the Scriptures, exposing the stubborn refusal of His opponents to submit to their authority. In other words, their problem is not with Him per se; rather, it is with the authority of God which He represents as Messiah. His is an authority that they all but refuse to submit to, and it is this refusal that ultimately provokes Jesus to condemn of the Temple and all that it represents in the Olivet Discourse. In this discourse, Jesus turns the attention of His disciples away from the religious, political, and nationalistic hopes of the Jewish religious establishment to a hope that culminates in His return in glory to establish the Kingdom of God once and for all.

“Silent” Wednesday
Wednesday of Holy Week is known as “Silent Wednesday”, because the Gospels are practically silent as to the activity of Jesus and the Disciples on that day. It is most likely that they spent the day in Bethany with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus enjoying the limited time that they had left to be together. It is also likely that it was on this Wednesday, as they were sharing a meal together in the home of Simon the Leper, that the woman with the alabaster jar came to anoint Jesus (Mark 14.3-10). Immediately, Judas raised the alarm that this valuable commodity had been wasted when it could have been sold and the profits given to the poor. But, when his concerns were seemingly dismissed by Jesus, it was the final straw. Apparently, this event was the breaking point for Judas, and immediately, he went out to plot with the Jewish religious leaders to betray Jesus for 30 pieces of silver. This is why this day is also known as “Spy” Wednesday.

Maundy Thursday (See also “On Maundy Thursday”)
On Thursday morning, Jesus instructed His disciples on where they could prepare to celebrate the Passover, and later that evening, Jesus arrived at the location where He would celebrate His Last Supper with them. The evening began with Jesus donning the apparel of a servant and washing the disciples feet. Using this action as an object lesson, Jesus went on to teach them in the Upper Room Discourse (John 13-17) about a New Commandment, “that you should love one another.” This is why we call it “Maundy” Thursday; the name comes from the Latin mandatum which means command, “a new commandment.” During the course of the evening, Jesus predicted that the disciples would betray Him (even Peter would do so three times before the rooster crowed), and Judas left to prepare for his act of betrayal. The evening concluded with the sharing of the bread and cup as symbols of His body that was about to be broken and His blood that was about to be shed for the forgiveness of sins as the inauguration of the New Covenant. After their meal, they adjourned to the Garden of Gethsemane, and while the disciples slept, Jesus prayed three times that “this cup” (by which He meant His passion) would pass from Him. Shortly thereafter, the mob arrived, Judas completed his betrayal with a kiss, and Jesus was arrested.

Good Friday
After His arrest, Jesus was carried away to the house of the High Priest where He was subjected to a sham trial in the darkness of night. The fix was in, as they say, as one by one witnesses were brought in to make false accusations against Him, and yet, throughout it all, He remained quiet. At first light, they brought Him before the Roman authorities, because the Jewish religious leaders lacked the authority to put anyone to death, and after being examined and found innocent by both Pontius Pilate and Herod Antipas, the religious leaders stirred up the crowd to call for His death. So, Pilate offered them a choice; he would release Barabbas the murderer or Jesus, the so-called King of the Jews. Again, the religious leaders stirred up the crowd, and they called for the release of Barabbas and for the crucifixion of Jesus. Pilate gave them what they asked for; he turned Jesus over to the Romans soldiers to be mocked and beaten, and then they led him away to be crucified. At the top of Golgotha, they nailed him to a cross and crucified him between two criminals. The soldiers cast lots for His clothes, and the Jewish religious leaders mocked him. At about three in the afternoon, He cried out with a loud voice “It is finished” and yielded up His Spirit to His Father. The Roman soldiers pierced His side with a spear to confirm that He was dead. Joseph of Arimathea requested His body and buried it in his own personal tomb before the start of the Sabbath at sundown.

Holy Saturday
The Gospels are mostly silent as to the details of Holy Saturday. Of course, it was the Jewish sabbath, a day dedicated to rest and to the worship of God, but for the followers of Jesus, this day was probably not very restful, to say the least. After all, they had just watched in horror as their beloved Master was wrongfully accused, unjustly convicted, and tragically executed. Jesus was dead, and it appeared that all their hopes had died with Him. He was supposed to be the Messiah, the prophesied and anointed King who would establish the Kingdom of God on earth, and He had been murdered, seemingly defeated by the worldly powers that be. Sure, he had predicted His own death and resurrection, but it is clear that they had no understanding of what that might mean until after all these things had taken place. On this Saturday, they were most likely overcome with grief and despair, and on top of that, there was the fear that what happened to Him might yet happen to them as well. And so, it is most likely that they spent the day locked behind closed doors cowering in terror. It was a dark day indeed, and yet, we know looking back that His death would not be the final word, that light and hope were still on the horizon. But this is the nature of Christian discipleship; sometimes we must endure the depths of the darkness before we ever begin to see the light of hope.

Resurrection Sunday
On the first day of the week, Sunday morning, at daybreak, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went to the tomb to anoint His body for burial; there hadn’t been time to do so on Friday due to the haste of getting Him buried before the start of the Sabbath. As they made their way to the tomb, they began to wonder how they might roll the stone away. However, when they arrived, they found the stone had already been rolled away, and when they looked inside the tomb, they were met by an angelic being who informed them of what had taken place. “Don’t be alarmed,” he told them. “You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here.” (Mark 16.6) Immediately, and with the angel’s express instruction, they returned to the city to inform the disciples of what they had seen. Of course, Peter, along with John ran off to see it for themselves, and finding it as the women had said, they were amazed at what this could mean. But Mary Magdalene stayed behind at the tomb, crying and confused. A man approached her, and at first, she did not recognize Him, assuming Him to be the gardener. “Sir, if you’ve carried him away, tell me where you’ve put him, and I will take him away.” (John 20.15) But when He called her by name, she immediately understood that this man was none other than her Lord and Savior. Later that day, He appeared to all of them in the upper room, even though the door was still locked, comforted them with the peace of His presence, and commissioned them to proclaim all that they had seen and heard.

If you are like me, and you have been raised in church, this may seem like the same ole’ story that has been told and retold too many times to count, but we must remember that this is the greatest story that has ever been told. These events are the pendulum upon which the course and destiny of human history hangs. The story of Jesus, especially His death and resurrection, are the foundation of God’s redemptive work in the world, and it is the very soul of our salvation. As followers of Jesus, we must never tire of hearing it, telling it, reading it, and singing it; we must never cease to be amazed at the wondrous work of Jesus on our behalf. And so this Holy week, let us echo the words of that great hymn writer, who wrote,

Tell me the story of Jesus
Write on my heart every word
Tell me the story most precious
Sweetest that ever was heard
~Fanny Crosby, “Tell Me the Story of Jesus”

For further study, see
On the Annual Celebration of Christmas and Easter
On the Crucifixion and Why It Matters at Christmas
On the How the Death of Jesus Changed Everything
On Why Christians Still Need the Gospel
On Remembering the Gospel
On Jesus’ Understanding of His Death
On the Season of Easter

See also:
Cook, William F., III. Jesus’s Final Week: From Triumphal Entry to Empty Tomb. Nashville, TN: B&H Academic, 2022.

Leave a comment | tags: Crucifixion, Disciples, Easter, Fourth Gospel, Good Friday, Gospel, Holy Saturday, Holy Week, Jerusalem, Jesus Christ, Judas, Maundy Thursday, Palm Sunday, Passion Week, Passover, Phillip Powers, Pilate, Resurrection, Silent Wednesday, Synoptic Gospels, The Gospel of John, The Gospel of Luke, The Gospel of Mark, The Gospel of Matthew, Triumphal Entry | posted in Gospels Studies, Historical Jesus, Worship & Liturgy

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