THE TEXT:
Isaiah 14:12-32
Human beings are inherently religious. We are homo adorans – worshiping man. We will either worship the Creator or some part of creation. Basing your life on some part of creation (reason, experience, science, health, pleasure) ultimately results in despair, anger, and anxiety because all of them are ultimately dependent on you and self-esteem, self-awareness, self-determination, and self-care are a backpack of bricks too heavy to bear. The weight of “self” is too heavy for any of us to carry.
Paul saw this phenomenon in Athens, and our culture is currently at “crush depth” with these mantras. But the gospel is that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came to carry us, and He is risen from the dead.
The Text: “Now while Paul waited for them at Athens, his spirit was stirred in him, when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry…” (Acts 17:16-23).
While Paul was waiting in Athens for Silas and Timothy to arrive from Berea, He became greatly disturbed at all the idols and began debating with the Jews in the synagogue and with the Gentile God-fearers and those in the market (Acts 17:16-17). And it caught the attention of the leading philosophical schools, the Epicureans and Stoics, particularly because Paul was preaching the resurrection (Acts 17:18).
They brought Paul to the Areopagus (The Rock of Ares/Mars’ Hill) where their councils were often held and asked him to present his teaching (Acts 17:19-20). Luke adds that the Athenians were particularly anxious to know the newest theories about everything (Acts 17:21). Paul begins his speech by acknowledging that the Athenians were very religious (full of fear of the gods), citing even an altar dedicated to an unknown god, and Paul says he has come to proclaim Him to them (Acts 17:22-23).
Epicureanism and Stoicism were both philosophies of despair. Socrates was condemned to die for rejecting the gods, and Plato and Aristotle had attempted to build a transcendent basis for truth without a personal transcendent God. Epicurus (341-270 B.C.) was a materialist and a hedonist, but he meant “hedonism” as avoidance of pain and strict moderation. He saw belief in the intervention of gods and fear of death as the cause of much pain, conflict, and suffering. Epicureanism focused on the need for self-discipline to find tranquility. Zeno (334-262) founded Stoicism, teaching that the good life is lived by the virtues of wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice. Virtue is simply the highest form of the will in agreement with nature, and with self-discipline reason and logic can tap into the reason/logos of the universe. But Stoicism taught that the universe is an impersonal force governed by fate. Passions can get in the way of this virtue and reason. Seneca and Marcus Aurelius were later famous adherents.
The fundamental despair resident in both philosophies is the rejection of a knowable and personal Creator God outside of nature and the complete dependence on self to achieve happiness and peace. But apart from God and His Christ, people descend inevitably into self-obsession, anxiety, anger, and relativism.
The reason nothing in this created universe can be a sufficient god is because everything in this universe is finite and therefore cannot account for everything. The true God must be the integration point for all things. The true God must take everything into account, otherwise you are always worried that you might be missing something.
All the idols, the religious anxiety, and the obsession with novelty in Athens go together. And we live in a very similar world. The modern West has largely abandoned the old gods, but we have descended into every form of hedonism that goes with materialism, as well as various forms of fatalism (e.g. identity politics). And this makes people angry, obsessive, and insecure. Our altars are fitness clubs and “licensed therapy” counseling centers.
The human heart is restless and anxious living in God’s world without communion with Him, and we have been fed the lies of self-fulfillment, self-esteem, self-care. But we cannot be the integration point for all things. We are finite creatures, and we cannot hold it all together. We are sinners, and we are dying. But Christ “is before all things, and by Him all things consist… and He is the firstborn from the dead” (Col. 1:17-18, Heb. 1:3).
Sin is a tendency to turn away from God and ultimately inward. Augustine called it being “turned in on oneself.” And the modern world has championed this move in many ways “be yourself” and “find yourself” and “love yourself.” We live in a therapeutic and psychological age obsessed with how we feel and who we really are, that tends to create an unbearable weight. “You” are the answer, “you” are the captain of your fate, “you” are a god. And yet, you fail, you forget, you sin, and you are not very interesting.
“Self-care” has become one of the mantras of this self-centered religion and “carefulness” about everything creates anxiety, worry, and fearfulness. The opposite of “care-full” anxiety is of carefree peace and joy. But these are byproducts of worshiping God, rejoicing in the Lord, and casting your cares upon Him (because He cares for you) (1 Pet. 5:7, Phil. 4:4-9).
George MacDonald once said that the one principle of Hell is “I am my own.” But the great and freeing principle of Heaven is “You are not your own” (1 Cor. 6:19-20).
Mark presents Jesus as a mighty man, driving out evil spirits, challenging self-righteous and self-assured teachers, and performing powerful acts (healings, feedings, calming seas). Jesus has been slowly unveiling what His master plan is. He didn’t come only proclaim Yahweh’s kingdom as coming; but to also make a claim to be the lawful King of Israel with designs for expanding to borders to the ends of the earth. All His riddles and signs have been the curriculum, and now as their teacher He gives His disciples a test.
In those days the multitude being very great, and having nothing to eat, Jesus called his disciples unto him, and saith unto them, I have compassion on the multitude, because they have now been with me three days, and have nothing to eat: And if I send them away fasting to their own houses, they will faint by the way: for divers of them came from far. […]
Mark 8:1-3ff
The hard sayings of Jesus from the previous chapter have not dampened the enthusiasm of their crowds. In this instance, the crowds have been on a three-day sojourn with Jesus. He notices the danger they’re in from not enough food in the wilderness (vv1-3). Jesus communicates His compassion to the disciples, but they offer no solution (v4). The disciples actually have seven loaves. So, as with the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus commands the crowds to be seated. The same order of actions (Cf. Mk. 6:41) is described here: taking, blessing, and breaking. The disciples distribute the bread, along with some fish, and the four thousand people were left satisfied, additionally, seven baskets were left over. Straightway Jesus departs in a ship to Dalmanutha (vv6-10).
A new contest with the Pharisees arises. They want a sign, but Mark reveals they are insincere; so Jesus, with a heavy sigh, flatly denies them a sign (vv11-12). This prompts Jesus to go elsewhere, but the disciples forgot to bring along the lunch supplies. Jesus warns the disciples to avoid the leaven of the Pharisees and of Herod, but they think He is rebuking them for forgetting the lunch. The Lord is forthright with them: their eyes are blind, ears shut, and hearts hard (Cf. Duet. 29:4, Is. 6:9, Jer. 5:21). He reminds them of His ability to provide by recalling His two great feedings; and then He leaves them to ponder why they still don’t understand (vv13-21).
Remember the “exaggerated” healing of the deaf man in Mk. 7:31-37. Now a blind man is brought (v22). Jesus again performs an “exaggerated” healing: leading the man out of the town, spitting on his eyes, asking if he can see. At this, the man reports he can only see in part; so Jesus again touches his eyes, makes him look up resulting in the man’s sight being fully restored. The man is sent home with the instructions to keep quiet (vv23-26).
Now, in light of these healings of deafness and blindness, Jesus gives His disciples another chance to solve the puzzle by asking them, “Who do men say I am?” Echoing Herod’s courtiers (6:15) they offer a few options. But Jesus wants to know what their answer is, and Peter declares, “Thou art the Christ” (vv27-29). This is a potent truth, so Jesus instructs them (like the blind man) to keep this to themselves for now. He then begins to teach them and reveal the answer to all His riddles: He must die at the hands of Israel’s elders and then rise again after three days. News this potent causes a potent reaction as seen in Peter’s attempt to dissuade Jesus from His mission. This earns him a scathing rebuke (vv30-33). Having privately told the disciples His mission, Jesus now reveals to the crowds what it means to follow Him: self-denial (vv34-38).
Jesus warns the disciples to avoid two kinds of leaven. The first leaven is that of the Pharisees; they claim to desire a heavenly sign while ignoring the clear Messianic signs right in front of them. They are indeed deaf, dumb, blind, and witless. But the second leaven is that of Herod. A curious warning. Remember how Mark told us that Herod saw more clearly than anyone that the miracles being done must mean a resurrection and accompanying judgment upon evildoers. Herod knew that he had done a great evil in beheading John the Baptist, but was unwilling to repent despite knowing that divine judgement was looming.
So then, the disciples are warned against two things. First is the evil of wanting more/different proof than God had given; second, is the refusal to respond decisively when convinced of those proofs. These warnings still pertain. It is not wrong to desire proof for the existence of God, or assurance of your salvation, or to understand the reliability of the Scriptures. However, many fall into the error that Lewis describes in one place, being so interested in proofs for the existence of God that you neglect to worship the Good Lord Himself. Mouths were made for eating, not endless chewing. But just as damning is the attitude of someone who has been warned that their actions are sinful, will admit as much, but still won’t turn from those actions. Followers of Jesus must jettison both attitudes.
Put all that Mark has told us together. The Pharisees, and even the disciples, are showing the fruit of their idolatry. The Psalmist says that “They that make [idols] are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them (Ps. 115:8).” And what are the idols like? Made out of precious metals, but shaped into the form that their makers desire. Mouths that don’t speak. Eyes that can’t see. Ears that don’t hear. Noses that can’t smell. Hands that can’t hold. Feet that can’t walk. (Ps. 115:4-7).
It is no accident that the healings which Mark has recounted all map onto this Psalm. Those that make them are like them. Idolatry turns you into a stump of wood and a block of granite. When you, like Israel, give your heart over to idols, it should be no wonder when you have to submit to the rule of those idols. In ancient Israel, God raised up judges and then kings to deliver God’s people from this oppression. But they always wandered back into their idolatry. Jesus was on a Mission to deliver not only Israel, but all the world, from the oppression of false gods. He was indeed making a claim to be the anointed King, come to deliver. But this deliverance demanded something that the prophets had foretold, but was tempting to overlook as a mark of the Messiah. He must die. Not only that, but those who would enjoy Messiah’s kingdom would also need to die with Him. This is how Jesus plans to overthrow the oppression of the idols.
What Jesus has come to do is going to turn the whole world upside down. The Messiah has come to die. This was a hard pill to swallow, and yet Jesus make the pill even more bitter. If you want to follow Him, you must join Him in running towards the danger. You cannot try to save your life. You must give it up. You must despise your idols, your self-righteousness, and your own vain claims for world domination. You must, as the old hymn says, “surrender all”.
Jesus’ kingdom will be one where He rules over not mere territory, but over our affections, wills, and desires. To bring this kingdom about, the old man (Adam) must die. But along with this death comes the bright promise of resurrection. When you trust in Christ, and are united to Him by faith, you are joined to His death. This is what your baptism means (Cf. Rom. 6). So, if you want to live, you must die. And if you die in Christ, you shall also live in Him.
After the Fall, there are really only two kinds of community in the world: the fellowship of nobility and the fellowship of envy. Cain envied his brother, murdered him, and was exiled and built a city; Seth was the father of noble generations who found grace in the eyes of the Lord. The word “noble” literally means “good generation” (high-born). Envy is the gangrene of bitter zeal. It is murderously destructive, while claiming to be concerned about truth and justice. Paul and Silas found examples of both nobility and envy in Thessalonica and Berea.
The Text: “Now when they had passed through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where was a synagogue of the Jews: And Paul, as his manner was, went in unto them, and three sabbath days reasoned with them out of the scriptures…” (Acts 17:1-15)
Departing Philippi, Paul and Silas headed west and came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue, and Paul preached for three weeks, explaining from the Old Testament that the Messiah had to suffer and rise from the dead, and that Jesus was therefore the Messiah (Acts 17:1-3). Some believed and joined Paul and Silas, but the Jews that did not believe became envious and stirred up a mob against their apparent host, a man named Jason, accusing them of creating disorder through their allegiance to another king (Acts 17:4-9).
Paul and Silas slipped out of town that night and came to Berea, where there was another synagogue, and the Bereans were more noble and willing to study the Scriptures, many believing (Acts 17:10-12). But when the Jews of Thessalonica heard that Paul and Silas were preaching in Berea, they came and started stirring up trouble there also, so that Paul left for Athens (Acts 17:13-15).
Christianity, like Judaism, is a religion of the book, of the written word. This is a testimony to the kind of God we serve: He is a God who has revealed Himself plainly and He does not change. He has spoken and His Word is true. And He is glorified in demonstrating His faithfulness over time. “For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through the patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope” (Rom. 15:4). Jesus repeatedly appealed to the Scriptures for His authority (e.g. Lk. 4:21, 24:27), and the apostles did the same (Acts 8:35, Rom. 1:2, 1 Cor. 15:3-4, 2 Tim. 3:15-16).
What Scriptures would Paul have appealed to? “The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone” (Psalm 118:22, cf. Ps. 110). “But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Is. 53:4-12).
It is the preaching of Christ from those Scriptures that contrasts the Thessalonians and the Bereans. In one place, as some people believe, envy takes over and turns into a mob (Acts 17:5) and in the other place, we have true nobility that searches the Scriptures hungry for the truth (Acts 17:11). There’s nothing quite so galling to envious people but to point out how some people are better than them, but Luke will not be bullied: the Bereans were more noble than the Thessalonian mob. But people are easily bullied and manipulated by the envious: what God has given (or not given) “hurts” the envious. The envious are always “concerned” about the “trouble” being caused by the more noble.
There were some noble-minded who believed and “joined” Paul and Silas and formed the first Christian church in Thessalonica (triggering the envy) (Acts 17:4), whom Paul wrote shortly after (1 Thessalonians). Paul was still concerned to address that toxic atmosphere when he described their conversion as becoming “followers of us, and of the Lord” (1 Thess. 1:6). And not stopping there, Paul underlined the genuine ties (mother/father) that were formed between them (1 Thess. 2:7, 11) and noted that they had become followers of the churches in Judea, suffering similar things as them (1 Thess. 2:14). The envious hate the fellowship of nobility and try to spoil it. But the fellowship of nobility is based on the apostolic commitment of pleasing God and not man (1 Thess. 2:4), and the Thessalonian believers demonstrated that they understood this by the fact that they received the gospel as the Word of God and not man (1 Thess. 2:13).
True nobility is receptive to all truth. Envy hates truth that gets in the way of its plans or narrative. Truth includes differences in gifts, abilities, wealth, happiness, hardships, and success. Nobility studies the truth in search of true wisdom; envy sorts the truth in search of its own demands. Nobility is patient and gracious, but envy seethes with bitterness, “zealously” resenting what seems to be injustice in the world, what seems “unfair.” James says that this is the origin of our fights and quarrels and strife: our bitter envy (Js. 4:1:1-2).
All human cultures function on the basis of imitation and similarity: the question is only whether it is noble imitation or envious imitation. Noble imitation joins others seeking to please God and not man, seeking the truth grounded in the Scriptures, content in the generosity of God. Envious imitation idolizes others and self: obsessing over others (even their faults) and obsessing over how you feel or what you have, which is ultimately murderous because these idols are finite (and if there is a god, he is apparently a tightfisted miser). In envious cultures, this idolatrous rage builds like an electrical charge until individuals blowup at their spouse/families or whole communities can erupt in mob violence.
This is why Christ had to suffer. Envy says, if I can’t have it my way, then nobody should. Envy resents others having what seems better. So God sent the very best thing He had into the world knowing exactly what the envious would do to Him, determining to save them by it.