Lectionary Commentaries for March 23, 2025
Third Sunday in Lent

Who is this Jesus? The Jesus we find in Luke 13 is very different from the Jesus we find in other parts of Luke’s gospel. Most often in Luke we find a holistic Jesus who is concerned about the spiritual, emotional, and physical well-being of all.

In Luke 4, Jesus stands up in the synagogue and reads from the prophet Isaiah, highlighting his mission to bring good news to the poor. In his ministry to people like the leper and the paralytic in Luke 5, Jesus very publicly heals their physical maladies. Once healed (or during the healing process), those who had been marginalized and ostracized by their communities are at once restored. Relationships that had been severed are restored. In Luke 9 Jesus feeds 5,000 hungry people while also sharing the good news. While the prophetic Jesus certainly attends to the spiritual needs of the people he encounters, he ministers to them holistically.

However, Jesus’ holistic tendencies are in short supply in this text. We do not know why he gathers with the group who are in his presence. We do know that the death of the Galileans at the hands of Pilate or officials of the Roman government is uppermost in their minds. What exactly happened to the Galileans is uncertain. Historian Josephus proposed at least five possible events that could have been the one referenced.¹ While scholars differ on which, if any, of these events is the one, most agree that the group of Galileans likely died at the hands of the Roman government, perhaps while engaging in some form of resistance.

After the Galileans were killed, Pilate mixed their blood together with blood of animals used in sacrifices. This ritualistic transgression added insult to injury. However, in response to the group’s expressions of concern about the demise of the Galileans, Jesus focuses on issues of piety rather than politics.

This pious Jesus is not concerned with the egregious and frequent misuse of power by the Roman government to keep people in line. Pious Jesus does not take time to verbally acknowledge the grief and sense of loss the people coming to him may be experiencing. Pious Jesus does not acknowledge the suffering experienced by families and close friends of those who were massacred. Rather, pious Jesus seems only concerned with sin and repentance.

After pointing out that his listeners’ sins are no less severe than the sins of the Galileans, Jesus informs them that they could suffer a fate similar to that of the Galileans. Jesus uses this moment to admonish his listeners to repent of their sins. Only through true repentance, Jesus advises them, can they avoid the fate of the Galileans.

How might Jesus’ focus on sin and repentance make them feel? Why does their spiritual leader show no concern about their bodies and their mind? Why does Jesus pay so little regard to their emotions and reactions to the unfortunate and untimely demise of the Galileans? Preachers can take this opportunity to remind themselves of the necessity of communicating a holistic theology, message, and ministry. People need to hear and feel that God is not only concerned with their spirits but also concerned about the well-being of their minds and bodies.

Jesus’ admonition that the sins of the Galileans who had been massacred were not more severe than the sins of those gathered was an important one. For people in a culture prone to believe that suffering of any kind is evidence of sin, being reminded that all people sin is vital for understanding communal identity. When people believe that suffering is a consequence of sin, they are able to ignore systemic sins and the responsibilities of the many for their existence.  Though pious Jesus does not take a stand against injustice, he does remind us that suffering is not evidence of a person’s sin.

But just when Jesus seems to be a bit too pious, he tells a parable—the parable of the fig tree. In this parable, pious Jesus extends grace.

Jesus shares the story of a man who is disappointed. Three years after he had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, fully expecting that in due time the tree would bear fruit, there were no figs in sight. The use of the phrase “and still I find none” in relation to the figs indicates that this was not the first time he had visited the tree looking for fruit. He had probably visited the tree expectantly many times, only to be disappointed over and over again. In his frustration he instructs the gardener to cut the tree down.

Undoubtedly, the gardener understands the owner’s frustration. Yet, instead of acquiescing unquestioningly to his wishes, he implores the owner to let the tree live for one more year. He, the gardener, will fertilize and tend to it closely for another year. If the tree does not bear fruit at that time, the owner could cut it down.

When we read this parable along with the words and actions of pious Jesus, we are reminded that though our sins render us eligible for harsh punishment, God at work in the world and in our lives extends to us the gift of grace. Like this tree, we are often given multiple opportunities to do better, to be better, or to do the right thing. The same grace that God extends to us we must also extend to one another. We sin. We repent. And by the grace of God, we are given another chance to be the people God is calling us to be.

Notes

1. Darrell L. Bock, Luke, 2 vols., Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament 3 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1994), (digital version).

Notes

Following the superscription, it is not hard to imagine David giving voice to this prayer in the Judean wilderness, on the run from his enemies.¹

The Judean wilderness is a hot, dry, and barren land that has little capacity to sustain life. Basic resources like food and water are scarce. In this context, we can imagine David’s physical thirst. We can feel his physical hunger. And yet, in the psalm, the psalmist’s physical needs only serve to draw attention to his spiritual longing. “O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1).

Far away from the temple, the psalmist feels spiritually distant from God. He longs to experience the immediacy and intimacy with God that he had known previously when he worshipped God among his people and in the sanctuary of his house. This, for the psalmist—being close to God, knowing God’s presence and his steadfast love—is better than life itself. It is as satisfying to the soul as food is to the body.

In the words of Isaiah 55, “Why spend money for that which is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?” (verse 2). Instead, “seek the LORD while he may be found, call upon him while he is near” (verse 6). In his testimony, the psalmist lives and breathes these words.

The psalmist’s desire for God is so fundamental that in lieu of eating the choicest of foods, the psalmist directs his mouth to bless the Lord as long as he lives (verse 5). In place of using his hands to feed himself, he lifts them up in praise to the Lord (verse 4). Instead of dreaming about wealth or reputation or power when he goes to bed or when he stands guard in the night, the psalmist focuses his thoughts on God (verse 6). All of the psalmist’s faculties are put in the service of drawing near to and glorifying the Lord.

While the lectionary leaves out the last verses of this psalm, they suggest that the psalmist is being hunted down and is under attack from those who would seek to harm him. Given this context, the psalmist’s longing for and pursuit of God reflects a deep expression of trust. For what is strikingly absent from this psalm is any attention to the psalmist’s earthly needs or distress.

Perhaps the psalmist knows instinctively that in clinging to God, God will uphold him. Words of petition and lament are not required. The Lord knows the troubles of the psalmist and the psalmist is confident that he will act to ensure that those who oppress and persecute him shall meet their just reward.

Read in the context of Lent, this psalm models a spiritual devotion that Lenten disciplines seek to cultivate—a thirsting after God. It does this by contrasting various outlets for human desire and by nurturing in us a desire for God. To love and desire is inherent to what it means to be human. We don’t choose “whether we love, but what we love.”² And what we choose to love, how we direct our desires, is often shaped by the values, expectations, and practices of the cultures in which we participate.

In North America, one dominant feature of our culture that has significant influence over what we love is consumer capitalism and the values, expectations, and practices associated with it. In such a system, human beings receive their value from their participation in a system of production and consumption. People are assessed for what they contribute to the economy, either by making money or by spending it. It is a script, a liturgy even, that many of us participate in without a second thought. And it is this liturgy that directs our desires and shapes our loves to constantly want more.

Individually, we spend our lives protecting what we have and working to acquire what we don’t yet have. Collectively, this liturgy affects how we engage contemporary issues related to the environment, immigration, healthcare, and international relations. The point is that this liturgy prioritizes our relationship to stuff so that the way we think about the world, the decisions we make, and the very shape of our lives revolve around the impulse toward protectionism and greater and greater acquisition.

Psalm 63 functions as a counter-liturgy to the liturgy of consumer capitalism, schooling our hearts in the things of God so that what we long for, what we seek, what we desire is not more of the world, but more of God. While the whole book of Psalms is meant to disciple us in an alternative set of values, expectations, and practices that reflect God’s heart for the world, this psalm is the most explicit about directing our desire away from the things of the world and toward the things of God.

“My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast, and my mouth praises you with joyful lips” (verse 5). This, for the psalmist, is the vision of the good life. And it is a vision that is painted in such a way as to nurture in us our desire for that which the psalmist himself longs, to be in the presence of God, beholding his power and glory.

In this season of Lent, Psalm 63 invites us to re-center our values, expectations, and practices on the only One who is truly worthy of our desire and our love. For as the psalmist notes, in him our restless wandering hearts will be stayed and we will find rest for our souls.

Notes

1. Commentary previously published on this website for March 24, 2019.
2. James Smith, Desiring the Kingdom (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2009), 52.

First Corinthians 10:1–13 appeals to several stories from the Hebrew Bible to argue that the Corinthians should be careful about the challenges of interacting with people, ideas, and practices beyond their Christ-community. The particular challenge in this situation revolves around eating food sacrificed to idols. While God is faithful and will provide a way forward, Paul stresses that these challenges are real and can be dangerous. Ultimately, Paul’s argument is that love should dictate these interactions. 

Ongoing correspondence 

The letters of 1 and 2 Corinthians illustrate an ongoing correspondence between Paul and the Corinthian Christ-community after Paul begins a ministry there. Prior to writing 1 Corinthians, he sends another letter, now lost (5:9: “I wrote to you in my letter …”), he receives a letter from them (7:1: “Now concerning the matters about which you wrote …”), and he receives oral reports from them (1:11: “It has been made clear to me from Chloe’s people …”). After writing 1 Corinthians, it is likely that he sends Timothy and visits himself before writing all or part of 2 Corinthians. 

This passage (10:1–13) from Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians forms a part of his response to the concerns of their letter to him. It seems they have told him what their practices have been regarding food sacrificed to idols (8:1 and following). We do not know if they have asked for his advice or simply told him their views; since their letter no longer exists, it is difficult to say with certainty. Regardless, Paul’s discussion of this topic is his attempt at persuading them of his ideas regarding whether to eat food sacrificed to idols. 

The people to whom Paul writes felt liberated to eat of the meat in the marketplace, arguing that they have the knowledge to be able to eat it and not be led astray to worship other gods (8:1). He cautions them, however, that others might not be as knowledgeable, and thus, out of love for others, they should be careful (8:9–13). Paul expounds on this theme in chapter 10, which culminates in 10:31–33: They should do whatever they do for the glory of God and give no offense to anyone, not “to Jews, or to Greeks, or to the ekklēsia of God.” There were other Christian views on this matter, most likely including some in the Corinthian community. The author of Revelation, for example, argues vehemently against eating food sacrificed to idols (Revelation 2:12–17). 

Stories of our ancestors

The majority of this passage involves Paul’s retelling of stories from the exodus out of slavery in Egypt because he sees these stories as examples from which to learn. It is significant that Paul includes his gentile audience in the ancestry of the people of Israel (10:1). Paul has been careful to stress that they, as Christ-following gentiles, need not be bound by the law (see Galatians). Indeed, it is because of Christ that the gentiles are to be gathered in with God’s people at the end of the age, which is happening urgently for Paul (1 Corinthians 10:11). Specifying that he is connecting the gentiles to stories of their ancestors solidifies Paul’s points regarding their inclusion with the people of Israel. 

The story of God delivering the people out of slavery in Egypt is remembered and told in multiple ways in the Hebrew Bible. “The cloud” (verses 1–2) likely references the story in Exodus 13:17–22 of the Lord acting through a pillar of cloud that leads the people. “The sea” (verses 1–2) is a reference to Exodus 14, when God parts the Red Sea (or Sea of Reeds) for Moses and the people to cross to safety from Pharaoh’s army. Intriguingly, Paul inserts ideas of baptism into these stories (verse 2), perhaps to emphasize their cleansed or repentant state before they started being tempted by other things.

The warning against idolatry suffuses the other warnings. Idolatry in Exodus 32, when the people have worshiped the golden calf and reveled, brings death to 3,000 as well as a plague (see 1 Corinthians 10:7). In Numbers 25, engaging in public intimacy with someone who does not respect the worship of the God of one’s people brings plague and death to 34,000 (see 1 Corinthians 10:8). The concern is in regard to idolatry, not “sexual immorality” in general. Complaining and challenging God’s providence in Numbers 21 leads to serpents that kill many (see 1 Corinthians 10:9–10). 

Paul uses these stories to argue that the Corinthians should be careful about similar kinds of temptations—to worship other gods or devote oneself to other things, to intimately engage with others who do not respect the God of one’s people, to second-guess God’s goodness. The same temptations they are facing have been faced by God’s people before them (see 1 Corinthians 10:13). Thus, Paul writes that the Corinthians should be careful. Even when they think they know what they are doing, they may fall, like some of their ancestors did. 

How to engage the other 

Ultimately, Paul says to engage others with love. He doesn’t want the Corinthians to offend anyone, regardless of whether they are Jew or Greek or part of the ekklēsia of God (1 Corinthians 10:31–33). The longer argument in the remainder of chapter 10 and throughout 1 Corinthians is that they should imitate Paul as he imitates Jesus by humbling themselves out of love for others (1 Corinthians 16:14; Philippians 2:1–11). 

Rather than focusing on their own conscience or potential for sin, if this Christlike concern for others guides their practices regarding how to interact with the larger world, then they will be glorifying God. This is particularly the case when interacting with people who are vulnerable, or who are potentially less knowledgeable or less mature in their faith. 

Could the concern in 1 Corinthians 10:12–14 have to do with the possibility of becoming so consumed by your own conscience that you offend or harm others with your intolerance or inhospitality? Radical hospitality is an essential part of Christian and Jewish history. Rather than responding to the other (other people, other practices, other ideas) in fear or ignorance masquerading as knowledge, Christians are to engage in love and radical hospitality because God is faithful. God will provide them a way through their temptations, and that way is love. 

First Corinthians 10:13 does not say that these temptations or tests come from God. Such an interpretation undermines the goodness and faithfulness of God. When the passage says God will not let you be tested beyond your strength, this does not mean that God is responsible for those tests, nor does it mean that if someone succumbs to hardships, they are not beloved by God. 

In Paul’s theology, when Christ died on the cross, God provided a way for resurrection through Christ’s faith in God’s love and justice (Romans 3:22). This is not the same as God providing a magical way down from the cross or God keeping the Roman guards from testing Jesus beyond his human strength. Similarly, Christians are not called to passively remain in suffering or hardship, but to faithfully look for the ways out that God will provide. God is faithful and will remain faithful in the midst of our temptations and our suffering, providing new life through radical love. Christians are called to do the same: to love others into new life.