The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

(Mark 1.1)

Thus begins one of the four accounts of Jesus’ earthly life, written by Apostles and their associates.  But why are there four of them?  Which one gets the story right?  In fact, isn’t there just one gospel?  Paul wrote to a group of new and erring Christians,

I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel—not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed.

(Galatians 1.6-9)

Which of the Gospels had they heard, and which was now leading them astray?  Of course, that’s not what Paul meant.  The word gospel has different senses.  Two of them are distinguished using capitalization—a Gospel is a written work that tells the story of Jesus’ life on earth, culminating in his death, burial, and resurrection.  That is also the core of the gospel—lowercase, this time—which is the good news about the coming of Jesus’ kingdom.  The Galatians had been fooled by a perversion of that message; but the four Evangelists wrote four accounts of Jesus’ life, from different perspectives, highlighting different parts of the story, aimed at different audiences, each with his own purpose.  None of them pretends to include every detail, and in fact John issues an explicit disclaimer at the end of his book:

Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.

(John 21.25)

So what makes each of the Gospels special?

Matthew

The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.

(Matthew 1.1)

Within the title sentence are several details that help us to see Matthew’s purpose.  First is the allusion to Genesis, which introduces several sections using similar language (Ge 2.4, 6.9, 10.1, 11.27, 25.12 et al.).  Even if that allusion hadn’t made it clear, the focus on Jesus’ lineage from David and Abraham emphasizes his Jewish identity.  Matthew knew that Jesus is the Savior of the whole world, not just Jews—in fact, his book makes a stronger case than the other three for this very point (cf. Mt 8.10-12 & 28-34, 11.21-24, 15.21-28, 20.1-16, 22.1-10, 25.31-32, 28.19-20).  But from the beginning it’s clear that he’s writing for a Jewish audience.  Of the four, this Gospel spends the most time tearing down Pharisaism and pointing out Jesus’ fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies.

Mark

This is the most vivid Gospel.  Mark spends no time on background information or long speeches.  He jumps into the action immediately, and that’s where his focus remains for the whole book, with evocative, yet concise language.  Despite usually providing the most vivid detail to help his readers envision each episode, Mark is the shortest of the four Gospels.  There are numerous other features that won’t fit here, which indicate Mark wrote for a Roman audience.  The central declaration about Jesus comes from a Roman soldier:

And when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was the Son of God!”

(Mark 15.39)

Luke

Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things that have been accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word have delivered them to us, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught.

(Luke 1.1-4)

Luke is obviously an intellectual.  In fact, he was a physician (Co 4.14), and his discussion of healings and other medical topics reflects this.  His telling of the Gospel story is the most verbose, and he includes many episodes that the other three leave out.  Of the four, Luke is most concerned with background and context, and his Gospel is the most artfully rendered.  It is the scholar’s Gospel.

John

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men.

(John 1.1-4)

John discusses spiritual things as easily as others discuss physical things.  His Gospel stands in a class of its own.  It’s as if Matthew is playing the trumpet, Mark is playing the tympani, Luke is playing the violin, and John is playing golf.  The others tell a harmonious story, each instrument leaving a particular impression on the listener.  John, on the other hand, has read the conditions of the ground and the wind, and uses a set of specialized tools and highly refined skills to push the reader closer and closer to a very specific spot.  Where is that spot?

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

(John 20.30-31)

Jeremy Nettles

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

(Philippians 4.8)

As Paul sat imprisoned, writing the letter to the Christians of Philippi, he was sure he would soon be acquitted, released, and given the opportunity to travel to Philippi again and see his dear friends in person.  Pretty sure.  Like, a solid 75% sure.  Nevertheless, he wrote as if it would be his last communication with these brothers and sisters, making sure to leave nothing unsaid that he’d regret, if his expectations were thwarted.  He wrapped up this task with a list of the things that ought to occupy the Christian’s mind.

True
Sometimes the exegesis of this passage, and others like it, begins and ends with John 17.17, in which Jesus says to his Father, “your word is truth.”  Thus, the meaning is taken to be, meditate on God’s word.  That’s certainly a good practice and is included in the point Paul is making, but it’s bigger than that.  Seek a true understanding of all things, both what you read in the Bible and what you see in the world.  Satan is the “father of lies” (Jn 8.44), but the children of God should oppose every lie, whether about the Scriptures or about the nature of the world and the events that take place therein.

Honorable
This is another basic concept that seems as if it should require little explanation.  Yet upon reflection we will discover that it’s hard to define what is honorable in specific terms.  We could offer examples of honorable and dishonorable conduct, and make further judgments on a case-by-case basis; but at its root, the notion is one of outshining others in a field.  In older literature, the Greek word behind honorable, σεμνά-semna, was even used in a negative sense, to mean “haughty” or “pompous;” but in the New Testament it instead always carries the connotation of deserving respect, not merely demanding it.

Just
How much more basic can we get?  Justice is when each person gets what he deserves, in the way it ought to be given; but what Paul means is broader.  Our English word, just, comes from the Latin iustus, which in turn is built on the more fundamental ius, meaning “law”—not a law, but the general concept and body of law.  Likewise, the Greek word in Philippians 4.8, δίκαια, is about an entire manner of life consistent with moral law.

Pure
We think of purity as meaning the absence of unwanted substances, and this  applies in moral terms, too.  The word translated pure in our text, ἁγνά-hagna, signifies innocence as we would expect—but in a decidedly divine sense!  It’s a moral and religious purity, not just homogeneity of any old sort.

Lovely
This word is usually associated with visible beauty.  Is that where Paul is telling Christians to put their focus?  Well, no; but it is included under the broader umbrella of loveliness!  This has been hijacked and abused in our culture more than in most, but at its root physical beauty is found in embodying the ideals of God’s creation.  What is lovely gives us innocent delight.  We must be careful to avoid taking this to an extreme, because an improper focus on pleasure is called sensuality, and is numbered among the “works of the flesh” in Galatians 5.19-21, which keep a person from the kingdom of God.  But rather than putting our focus on what delights our eyes and flesh, we should contemplate the things that delight God, and seek to share that delight.

Commendable
To commend is to publicly voice approval to a person, practice, thing, or idea.  In its most literal sense, the Greek word, εὔφημα-euphēma, signifies speaking well of someone or something.  Is Paul telling us to put stock in man’s approval, now?  Yes, up to a point.  Clearly, he doesn’t mean that we should seek to please man instead of God—as he himself wrote, “If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ” (Ga 1.10)!  At the same time, while man is fickle and his tastes changing, mankind still possesses an incredibly consistent common sense regarding basic morality.  Paul instructed elsewhere that we should “give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all” (Ro 12.17).  Meditate on such things as ought to meet with man’s approval.

Excellence
The Greek word behind this, ἀρετή-aretē,  means virtue; but that’s not quite a sufficient definition.  It does signify living by rules and ideals, but to an extent not often seen!  “Excellence” means more than just goodness, but rather superior, distinct, or eminent goodness.  It’s less about measuring up to a standard, and more about surpassing one’s peers in moral uprightness—not for the sake of competition, but out of a sense of duty.

Praiseworthy
Doesn’t “worthy of praise” mean the same thing as “commendable,” earlier in the verse?  Very nearly so.  But it’s hardly likely that Paul would finish out this list with a redundancy, so we ought to consider further.  Before, the focus was on things that are well spoken of, among men.  “Praise,” while it certainly could apply to the same social context, also opens the door to a higher realm—as Paul wrote about the devoted Jew circumcised in heart and not merely body, “His praise is not from man but from God” (Ro 2.29).  Live in such a way as to receive his praise, regardless of who else hears it.

Jeremy Nettles

During Jesus’ time in the flesh, he often talked about the religious authorities.  It’s sad to see the very same people who were in the best position to recognize Jesus as the promised Messiah, instead using their many blessings to further elevate and insulate themselves from the people God appointed them to serve, teach, and lead.

“The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat, so do and observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do. For they preach, but do not practice.”

(Matthew 23.2-3)

Their hypocrisy and abdication of their God-given responsibility were frequent targets for Jesus.  In this passage, he’s not exceptionally upset with them for failing to live up to the standard, God’s perfect righteousness—we all share that failure!  But these people first pretended to be perfectly righteous, next proceeded to ignore whichever of God’s commandments they pleased, and then used their position of authority to create tighter restrictions than God himself had mandated, and enforce those new constraints on everyone else, with little regard for ability.

“They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger.”

(Matthew 23.4)

On top of this, their sheer phoniness was galling to the God whom they claimed to serve.  When it came down to it, most of them were more interested in the temporal benefits of appearing righteous in the eyes of decent people who, though flawed, still prized and respected God’s standards.

“They do all their deeds to be seen by others. For they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by others.”

(Matthew 23.5-7)

Phylacteries were small boxes worn by some Jews on the forehead or arm, into which were placed passages of the Law, in keeping with God’s instruction through Moses,

“You shall therefore lay up these words of mine in your heart and in your soul, and you shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.”

(Deuteronomy 11.18)

Given the impracticality of maintaining such a practice while, say, quarrying stone, hauling fishnets, or harvesting barley by hand, we may conclude that this was intended at least somewhat figuratively.  But these religious leaders were not only wearing these, but making sure theirs were bigger than those worn by others.  First, that meant they’d be more noticeable; and on top of that, they’d be more obviously awkward and obtrusive, silently proclaiming just how much needless inconvenience these special people were willing to tolerate for the sake of their record of righteousness.  Long fringes are a similar, if less obnoxious story (cf. Nu 15.37-39).

It was all to be seen by men, and not genuine devotion to God.  They’d become addicted to their own smug superiority.  This is why they enjoyed the best seats at dinners and in the synagogue—not because they were more comfortable, or meant better food.  They were interested in the status these positions conferred.  It was the same motivation as the one at play in schoolchildren hoping for a spot at the cool kids’ table during lunch.  In short, it was pride.

The same is true of the greetings in the marketplace.  Considering the talk of good deeds back in verse 5, one could be forgiven for surmising that Jesus is talking about the sort of glad-handing and baby-kissing we associate with sleazy politicians; but consider the immediate company—the coveted seats of honor and the title, “rabbi.”  Jesus’ point is that they act the way they do, in part because they enjoy being recognized and having a fuss made over them, in contrast to the surrounding riff-raff, who weren’t worth noticing for a lack of moral uprightness.

In what follows, Jesus uses hyperbole to cut down this false notion of the eminently respectable, authoritative, righteous, and elite scribe or Pharisee.  “But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher” (v8).  Who’s the one teacher?  Jesus!  Does that mean no Christian should teach another?  Of course not!  Jesus appointed Apostles for this very purpose!  But they’d better be teaching Jesus’ word and not their own ideas!  Similarly, when Jesus said, “call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father” (v9), did he mean it’s wrong to address your earthly father this way?  No; and in fact the Apostles continually wrote about both earthly and spiritual fathers (cf. 1Co 4.15, Php 2.22, 1Th 2.11, Phm 10, 2Pe 3.4, 1Jn 2.13-14).  But these fathers had better be fulfilling the role God assigned to them, representing God before their households and their households before God, not making themselves gods!

Jesus went on to pronounce “woes” on the scribes and Pharisees; but first, he summed up his point, warning his disciples about them and the prideful spirit of which they partook:

“The greatest among you shall be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

(Matthew 23.11)

The problem was never on the surface of any of these behaviors we’ve considered.  Want to preach God’s word?  Great!  Want to recommend safe practices above and beyond what God commanded?  Ok.  Want to wear a phylactery and a long fringe?  Knock yourself out.  Do your peers show you respect and honor?  How nice!  But whom do you exalt and serve?  God?  Your brother?  Or yourself?  “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (1Pe 5.5).

Jeremy Nettles

And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life. Little children, keep yourselves from idols.

(1 John 5.20-21)

At first glance, the last line of 1 John seems to have nothing to do with the rest of the letter.  John wrote about walking in truth, keeping Jesus’ commandments, loving one another, and the fact that Jesus came in the flesh.  He did not mention idols—at least, not directly. 

Who is the liar but he who denies that Jesus is the Christ? This is the antichrist, he who denies the Father and the Son.

(1 John 2.22)

Anti- is a Greek proposition meaning against, or in place of.  It’s not just that the antichrist denies Jesus’ teachings and divinity; rather, by his own teachings he replaces Jesus with something else—a cheap imitation of the real thing.  The heresy known as Docetism was growing in the churches, and John was pointing out that to deny God became flesh is to replace Jesus with a false god—an idol.  The idol may wear the same name as the real God, but it’s still an imposter.  Stay away!

This was neither the first, nor the last time Satan made use of parodies to lead God’s children astray.  Paul preached the gospel and founded the church in Corinth, but his departure was followed by the entrance, or perhaps the ascendency, of some unnamed teachers who bad-mouthed Paul, promoted themselves as better orators, with more knowledge and a greater understanding of the truth than the “humble” Paul (2Co 10.1).  For the sake of his “beloved children” (1Co 4.14), Paul insisted on addressing this problem and receiving the proper degree of respect.  He hinted that these pathetic imitations were taking credit for his work, saying that, by contrast, “We do not boast beyond limit in the labors of others” (2Co 10.15).  He writes that these upstarts, in effect, preach “another Jesus than the one we proclaimed,” along with a “a different spirit from the one you received” and “a different gospel from the one you accepted” (2Co 11.4).  Although decades prior and doubtless for different immediate reasons, this perfectly mirrors the situation in 1 John! 

But it gets better.  Paul calls these men “super-apostles,” using a word that he appears to have made up himself, ὑπερλίαν-huperlian.  This is a combination of two words, a preposition and an adverb, either of which would have been adequate for the job on its own.  The fact that Paul smushes them together in an awkward fashion, and uses the  word again in 12.11, combined with his biting sarcasm throughout this portion of the letter suggests he’s being glib.  An approximation in English might be, “super-duper apostles.”  That’s how they see themselves, anyway; but they’re just pale imitations of the real thing.

For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. So it is no surprise if his servants, also, disguise themselves as servants of righteousness.

(2 Corinthians 11.13-15)

These men were not pursuing Christ’s glory, but their own prestige and enrichment!  They were playing a part, nothing more.

Another example appears in John’s second and third letters.  John tells Gaius that faithful brothers “have gone out for the sake of the name,” preaching the Gospel and deserving our “support” (3Jn 7-8).  At the same time, he warns the church that “many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not confess the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh” (2Jn 7).  This is the same heresy he covered in 1 John, and he calls its teacher “the deceiver and the antichrist” here, as well.  What is to be done about such a person?  John writes, “do not receive him into your house or give him any greeting, for whoever greets him takes part in his wicked works” (2Jn 10-11).  But when John names one of these antichrists in 3 John, he says that Diotrephes “refuses to welcome the brothers, and also stops those who want to and puts them out of the church” (3Jn 10).  Isn’t that pretty much what John said ought to be done, to someone like Diotrephes?  And here he is, using the same tactic, for Satan’s purposes!  He’s another imitation, a parody of the faithful preachers.

Let’s consider one last example.  There are several main characters in Revelation, who are generally not identified by name, but rather by symbols and descriptors.  This starts with the Father, who sits on heaven’s throne (ch4).  The Lamb stands before the throne, even though it appears “as though it had been slain” (5.6).  Also near the throne are “seven torches of fire, which are the seven spirits of God” (4.5).  Then there is the city of Jerusalem, which is also pictured as the Lamb’s “Bride” (19.7).  Corresponding to the Father is the Dragon (ch12), who rebels but cannot achieve victory.  Corresponding to the Lamb is the beast from the sea, who has a head with “a mortal wound, but its mortal wound was healed” (13.3).  Corresponding to the Spirit of God is the false prophet (ch13b). Corresponding to Jerusalem is “Babylon the great” (17.5), which is also pictured as “the great prostitute” (17.2), a parody of the Bride.

Considering that he is the father of lies, we should not be surprised that one of Satan’s favorite tactics is to make use of “false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves” (Mt 7.15).  Rather than create something of his own, he merely imitates the outward appearance of God’s good creation, while remaining polluted to his core.  Keep watch, and do not be fooled!

Jeremy Nettles

“You shall not fall in with the many to do evil, nor shall you bear witness in a lawsuit, siding with the many, so as to pervert justice….”

(Exodus 23.2)

On November 18, 1978 a religious cult called the Peoples Temple committed one of the most heinous acts of the 20^th century—a mass murder-suicide.  Since the cult was mostly about enacting communism, it had enjoyed about fifteen years of support from the political left.  But when the fake faith healings and former members’ accusations of horrible abuse started to garner attention, the cult leader, Jim Jones, decided it was time to flee the United States for Guyana in South America.  There they established a new commune, but unsurprisingly, conditions steadily declined over five years, culminating when the cult’s thugs murdered U.S. Congressman Leo Ryan, along with many of his associates, who had traveled to Guyana to check up on alarming reports concerning these American citizens.  Knowing that the jig was pretty much up after that, the leaders decided the best course of action was the “revolutionary suicide” they’d planned and dry-run many times over.

There were about a thousand people in the commune, more than a quarter of them children.  They were directed to ingest a Kool-Aid type drink, spiked with sedatives and cyanide, which Jones had been stockpiling for years.  If they refused, they’d face the guards’ guns.  Parents first gave a cup to their children, and then drank a cup themselves, and over the next few hours, more than 900 people died.

This event popularized an expression: “drinking the Kool-Aid.”  Peer pressure is so powerful that it can induce people to literally, even knowingly ingest poison, rather than being left out, or exchanging former friends for deadly enemies.  We pull out this expression when we see someone engaging in bad, and especially self-destructive behavior in order to fit in with some subculture.  We use it derisively, scornfully.

We also live in society that mirrors Jones’ cult, immersed in political ideology that champions greed and envy, and saturated with disordered sexual practices, including the abuse of children.  This is especially evident during “Pride Month,” in which every individual and every institution is encouraged, then commanded, to drink the Kool-Aid, or else face the wrath of society.  Christian denominations fall like flies, choosing to join with the atheists and the reprobates, rather than the Word of God.  Just recently, the United Methodist Church voted—692 to 51—to lift its ban on ordaining and appointing self-described and practicing homosexuals as ministers.  So-called “gay marriage,” an oxymoron if ever there was one, was an open discussion even in the political sphere, just in 2015.  Only nine years ago, the Supreme Court discovered that the 14^th Amendment contains a right to marry a member of one’s own sex, and since then, one after another, religious institutions that profess to serve Christ decide to fall in with the many in rejecting Christ’s teaching on this matter, which is both concise, and thorough.

“Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.”

(Matthew 19.4-6)

It’s not a question of whether the gays are icky; standing firm on this point purely out of personal, prejudicial revulsion, as some do, is not standing with Christ.  Jesus was seen by the aloof Pharisees as “a friend of tax collectors and sinners,” and was not ashamed of that characterization (Lk 7.34).  On one occasion, a Pharisee observed “a woman of the city, who was a sinner,” washing and perfuming Jesus’ feet, and thought, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner” (vv37 & 39).  Seeing her obvious remorse and belief in him, Jesus responded to the Pharisee, “her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much” (v47).  We must follow Jesus’ example, standing against the tide, in full confidence that Jesus means what he says, knows better than we do, and is able to redeem the worst sinner and make him righteous.  Do we trust in Jesus, or not?

We have many more examples to encourage us.  Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah saw everyone around them bowing to the idol, but they refused, telling Nebuchadnezzar “we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (Da 3.18).  Job’s three friends relentlessly badgered him to admit he’d sinned, and he looked like an arrogant, obstinate fool for refusing!  Yet God eventually told them, “you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has” (Jb 42.7).  The prophet Micaiah stood alone among “about 400” prophets, all feeding the king the same lie he wanted to hear (1Ki 22.6).  The Apostle Paul stood for truth against other Christians, including elders and Apostles, who were unwilling to fully accept that God had called the Gentiles to Christ. 

None of these were enjoyable—in fact, all were miserable situations, with a strong likelihood of being put to death in some cases!  But we don’t honor the ones who caved in and drank the Kool-Aid.  The world offers a pathetic, synthetic, sickly-sweet alternative that appeals to our lusts, but leads to death; don’t drink the cup it offers!  Jesus offers something far more radical, that doesn’t seem as palatable, but leads to life:

“Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”

(John 6.54)

Jeremy Nettles