Last year, Ligonier Ministries in Florida conducted their annual theological survey among professing Christians. The results were shocking and disturbing.

If you don’t know this about me by now, you should be aware of the fact that I don’t do well in the presence of surgical procedures or detailed descriptions of bodily functions or our internal organs. As a result, I was not in the room for the birth of either of our daughters. I know that in today’s world it is expected that fathers be present when their wives give birth, but I come from a slightly older generation. After all, the doctor needed to focus on Ann and our newly-born babies and not on trying to revive me from having passed out on the floor!

There are so many things in this world of ours that I don’t understand that I often wonder if I understand anything at all. I don’t understand how an ugly, slimy little caterpillar can become a beautiful, graceful butterfly. I don’t understand how a rectangular box in my house can transform electrical impulses into a movie or sporting event of remarkable color and sound. I don’t understand how typing on the keyboard of my laptop produces letters and words and images on the screen in front of me. I don’t understand why all of us have an appendix. Do you understand where the end of the universe might be? Can you explain gravity? How does the human brain work? Why is there something rather than nothing? Since this is Mother’s Day, I suppose I should ask: How does a baby not drown or suffocate in its mother’s womb? And while we’re at it, who really shot President John F. Kennedy?

When you hear the word “glory”, what comes first to mind? Perhaps it is the pomp and festivities surrounding a royal wedding, such as that between Prince Harry and Megan Markle last year. Or maybe the first thing that comes to mind is the Presidential Inauguration here in the U.S. Or does “glory” evoke images of a world-class athlete standing on the podium at the Olympic Games as he/she receives a gold medal for having set a world record?

Humility is not easy to define. It’s even more difficult to experience in one’s life! The apostle Paul has perhaps given us the best working definition of humility in Romans 12:3, where he writes:

We all know that Jesus is the central figure in all of Scripture. In fact, he is the central figure in all of human history. We’ve already seen this in John 1. John the Apostle has made it clear that the Son of God is eternal. He never began to be but has always been and always will be. He is God. He is the Creator of all things. He is the source of understanding and intelligence. The only reason we know anything at all is because of the enlightening work of the Son of God, whom John calls the “Word” (John 1:1). He is the reason we have been born again and adopted into the family of God. And at a point in time, centuries ago, this Word literally became flesh in the person of Jesus, without at any time ceasing to be God (John 1:14).

It comes as no surprise to me that there is a wide variety of opinion among Christians concerning the nature and frequency of miracles. Let me explain what I mean.

[The place of the Temple cleansing/judgment in John’s gospel needs to be addressed. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all place the record of Jesus cleansing the Temple at the conclusion of their gospel accounts, during the final week of Jesus’ life, only days before his crucifixion. But John describes it as occurring at the very beginning of our Lord’s public ministry, some three years earlier than what we find in the synoptic gospels. One of two explanations is given for this. Some believe that John has moved the story to the beginning of Jesus’ ministry for literary and theological purposes. It isn’t uncommon for the gospel writers to rearrange the chronology of certain events in order to make a theological point. Perhaps that is what John has done. But it is unclear what that theological point would be. Most believe, on the other hand, that Jesus entered and cleansed the Temple twice, once at the beginning of his public ministry, which is the event that John describes here in chapter two of his gospel, and a second time, some three years later, at the close of his ministry, just prior to his crucifixion. Therefore, Matthew, Mark, and Luke describe the second of the two Temple cleansings. Although we can’t be absolutely certain, I think the weight of evidence points to two cleansings, not one.]

A major corporation in America recently re-structured its management team and embraced a new mission statement. This corporation then declared: “We are born again!” Because of urban renewal efforts, city leaders declared that the south side of Chicago has been “born again”! Civic leaders in Boston said much the same thing about its west end. In fact, you hear similar claims being made about virtually every movement, political party, educational institution, and most individuals when they make some life-altering decision. There is simply no escaping the fact that the world at large has co-opted the language of being “born again” from Christians and in doing so has thoroughly corrupted the true meaning of the term.

I found myself this past week asking a question as I prepared for today: “How does one preach on a biblical text already known by virtually everyone in the world? What can one say that hasn’t already been said? How do I prevent people from mentally checking out because of their frustration at having to listen to yet one more sermon on a passage they committed to memory decades ago?” Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t have a good answer. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to skip over John 3:16 and pretend that all of you know everything that can be known about what is probably the most famous verse in all the Bible.

Most of what we find in the Bible is designed to comfort and encourage us. But there are a few texts that are deliberately designed to frighten us. By “frighten” I mean they are there to wake us up and shake us up.

In his book, Rediscovering Holiness, J. I. Packer makes the point that being a Christian is largely concerned with living our lives as Jesus lived his. Therefore, says Packer, Christians are to:

Jesus is bushed. He’s tuckered out. He’s bone-tired from his journey. He’s hot, thirsty, and hungry. It’s high noon and the disciples have nothing to eat. So while they go shopping for lunch, Jesus sits down at a well to drink. It is here that he decides to enlist yet one more person into the ranks of those who will worship the Father. But it isn’t just any person. It isn’t a recent graduate of the local theological seminary. It isn’t a respectable businessman or a housewife with three kids, a cat and a dog. He chooses to speak with a person who, in the opinion of the ancient world, has already struck out. This person is a Samaritan. Strike One! This person is a woman. Strike Two! This woman is sexually immoral. Strike Three!

Last week we spent all our time unpacking the significance of what Jesus said in John 4:23. In his conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well, he told her that God is seeking people to worship him in spirit and in truth. That’s the sort of statement that will either offend you and make you angry and cause you to turn and run away from God, or it will fill you with joy and delight and excitement as you realize that in your worship of God you find your greatest heart happiness and soul satisfaction. But I don’t won’t to preach last week’s message again, so today we turn our attention to the story as a whole.

Does the subject of divine healing ever confuse you? I’m almost embarrassed to ask that question, because everyone answers in the same way: Yes! And I’m not sure I trust those who say No. I agonize over the question of why one person is healed and another is not, why some healings are instantaneous and total while others are gradual and partial. Does it strike you as odd, as it does me, that notwithstanding a multitude of prayers a Christian suffers and dies while a non-Christian recovers and lives without the aid of so much as one prayer? Do you find it baffling, as I do, that on occasion those who sin the most suffer the least, and those who sin the least seem to suffer the most?

Even though the Jehovah’s Witnesses have stopped ringing my doorbell, they will on occasion leave at my front door a copy of their magazine published by The Watchtower Society. It is very easy for undiscerning or uninformed people to think that the Jehovah’s Witnesses are a Christian group who confess Jesus as Lord. After all, the magazine several times will refer to the knowledge of Jehovah and everlasting life “through Jesus Christ.”

Last week we looked at the most amazing claim that any human being ever made concerning himself. We listened as Jesus of Nazareth, carpenter and itinerant preacher, claimed to be equal in power, dignity, deity, and glory with God the Father. It is one thing for a man in a mental institution to claim to be Napoleon or for a woman to insist she’s Amelia Earhart. But Jesus claimed to be God. He claimed to be the long-awaited Messiah, foretold and foreshadowed in the OT Scriptures.

I’ve told one particular story a number of times over the years, but for whatever reason it remains vividly impressed on my mind. It’s almost as if it were yesterday, even though it took place on January 5th, 1976. I can still recall everything I heard, where I was standing, the cold of that winter night, and what I was thinking as Ann and I stood outside in the parking lot as we watched the fire creep closer and closer to our apartment. I learned a lot about myself that night, and it wasn’t pretty.

I realize those words of the medieval mystic, Bernard of Clairvaux, sound a bit dated and more than a little cheesy to some of you, but stay with me as I use them to make a point. “Jesus, the very thought of Thee, with sweetness fills my breast.”

Churches often divide over certain theological issues, such as the role of women in ministry and leadership, charismatic gifts, water baptism (infant baptism vs. believer’s baptism), and matters related to eschatology or the end times (the timing of the rapture, the role of Israel, etc.)

I am constantly amazed by the lengths to which people will go, and the sacrifices they will make, in an effort to cleanse their consciences of the stain and guilt of sin. One example of this is the Ganges River and the pagan beliefs concerning its alleged cleansing and purifying powers.

I wonder if you’ve ever given much thought to how much of our lives is spent trying to avoid offending people. I thought about it this week, and I was amazed at the steps we take to be as inoffensive as possible. Most of it goes back to the way our parents raised us.

We are going to do something different today as we come to John 7. It is a long chapter of 52 verses. But I have decided that we will focus in on the most important section in the chapter and spend only this one week in our study of it. The reason for this will soon become evident.

I don’t often take time to address some of the more technical issues regarding the trustworthiness and integrity of the Bible, but our text today is unique and calls for some additional comment.

Jesus was never one for ambiguity. When something of eternal importance needed to be said, he said it in no uncertain terms. He pulled no punches. He cut no corners. He was rigidly opposed to compromise. And this is nowhere seen more clearly than when it came to his identity. If people left the presence of Jesus confused about who he was and what he claimed, it was their own hard-heartedness and spiritual blindness that must be blamed.

For the Christian, freedom may be experienced in any number of ways: freedom from the world and the pressure to conform to its ways; freedom from the fear of being rejected by those whose expectations we don’t meet; freedom from allegiance to anyone other than God; freedom from selfish preoccupation with what others think of us. Freedom! What a wonderful word.

I can’t think of a time in history when there was as much confusion about what it is to be a Christian as there is in our day.

At precisely this time of year, every year without fail, newspapers, magazines, and numerous TV documentary shows provide a list of the more notable figures, both male and female, who died in the past twelve months.

I’m asking you to do something today that may strike you as odd, but bear with me. I want all of you to close your eyes and not to open them until I tell you to do so. Now, try to envision in your mind what it’s like to be blind from birth. How would it feel never to have seen anything? Not the words on the pages of your Bible. Not the shoes on your feet. Not the smile on a friend’s face. Nary a star in the sky above. Nothing. Just darkness. It’s a terrifying thought, but try.

As far as the world was concerned, and based on its standards by which “success” is measured, “Steve” had every reason to be miserable. After all, he wasn’t particularly attractive physically speaking. He wasn’t gifted athletically. He was of average intelligence and held down a job that paid him just enough to get by.

As all of you know, there are theological differences among those who call themselves evangelicals. By “evangelical” I mean those who affirm the fundamental and foundational truths of Christianity, such as the inspiration and authority of the Bible, the deity, virgin birth, sinless life, and substitutionary death of Jesus, the bodily resurrection of Jesus, the reality and necessity of being born again, salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone, and of course his second coming at the close of human history.

I’m happy to say today that Jesus and I share at least one thing in common: neither of us likes funerals. But, then again, I’ve never met anyone else who does enjoy funerals, with the exception of the mortician!

The portrait of Jesus that the four gospels have sketched for us is truly stunning. Jesus, described by his enemies as the friend of sinners, was uninhibited in the presence lepers and unafraid to confront demonic spirits. He was unembarrassed by prostitutes and unimpressed by religious leaders. He is unoffended by your weaknesses, undeterred by your sin, and unashamed to call you his own. How do you respond to someone like this? Matt Redman asked the question in the lyrics to one of his songs: “What can be said, what can be done, to so faithful a friend, to so loving a King?”

If you look up the word “paradox” in Webster’s dictionary you will find this definition: “a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense, and yet is perhaps true.”

I’ll be the first to admit that prayer can often be quite frustrating. Why is it that sometimes God says “Yes” and at other times “No” and in most cases, “Wait”? It can be frustrating and confusing to watch as one person receives an answer and another does not. There are numerous other unanswered questions about prayer that I could mention, but let me come to my primary point: There is one prayer to which God is always quick to say, “Yes!”

There was an old and godly man named Simeon who would often linger in the Temple in Jerusalem, because “it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ” (Luke 2:26). When Mary and Joseph brought the baby Jesus to the Temple, along with the appropriate sacrifice, Simeon took him into his arms and blessed God.

Picture yourself in the most painful situation imaginable. Your finances are in a shambles, your health is deteriorating daily, and you are all alone. No one seems to care how you feel. You have a splitting headache, the house is an unmitigated mess, and tomorrow has all the signs of being worse than today . . . and the telephone rings. Sure enough, it’s that one person in your life who never calls or seems to care until they need something from you. And today, of all days, you’re in no condition to give. How would you react?

Today is the second message in our new series in John 13-17 that we are calling, Last Words. That is to say, we are looking at what has also been called The Farewell Discourse of Jesus, the concluding words of instruction and encouragement that Jesus gave to his disciples on the night on which he was betrayed by Judas Iscariot. Some have referred to these five chapters as The Upper Room Discourse because that is where they gathered to celebrate the last supper.

If someone were to ask you what it is about Christianity that makes it unique among the many world religions, how would you answer them? What is it about the Christian faith that sets it apart and in doing so helps to confirm its truthfulness? What is it about Christianity that makes it so appealing?

This may sound a bit strange, but there are some things in the Bible that are not so much to be understood as they are to be trusted. Here’s what I mean. The Bible is meant for our instruction. God moved on the hearts and minds of its authors over a 1,500 year period to record his revelation of what is true and right and good. In doing so, we also have in the Bible a revelation of what is false and wrong and evil. The Bible is there for God’s people to lead us into what we should believe and how we should behave. And for that we should be eternally grateful.

You may not be familiar with the name Tertullian. I don’t of anyone who has named their child after him. Tertullian lived and ministered in the early years of the third century a.d. He was one of the greatest of the early church fathers and was actually the first man to use the word “Trinity” to describe the nature of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

I had originally planned on beginning today with a question, until I realized it was a silly question, the answer to which is always, “Yes.” But just because it is a silly question and everyone will always respond with the same answer, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be asked. So here goes: “Do you ever find yourself troubled in heart?”

Is it ok to pray for a miracle? To hope for a miracle? To seek God for a miracle? For many years I thought it was unspiritual to desire or seek for any spiritual gifts, especially those of a more overt miraculous nature. I had been taught it was an indication of immaturity to seek signs in any sense, that it was a weak faith, born of theological ignorance, that it was only the biblically illiterate and emotionally unstable people who prayed for healing or a demonstration of divine power. One author I read actually said that to desire miracles is sinful and unbelieving! But then I noticed Acts 4:29-31, which records this prayer of the church in Jerusalem:

What precisely is a miracle? What events in life would qualify as miracles? When you make a trip to Penn Square Mall on the day before Christmas and discover that the parking lot is not only completely full but has spilled out onto the grassy median and even across the street, do you pray for a miracle? And when you then make one more loop through the parking lot only to discover that a spot has suddenly opened up for you directly in front of the store where you planned on shopping, do you regard that as having happened by direct intervention from God? Was that a miracle?

There are numerous reasons why non-Christians struggle to believe the Christian faith. I won’t burden you by listing them. But when it comes to Christians themselves, believers in Jesus, there are typically only two. If you should ask a born-again-justified-by-faith-in-Jesus-man-or-woman what their greatest struggle is when it comes to Christianity, they will most likely point to one of two thi

"The Holy Spirit has long been the Cinderella of the Trinity. The other two sisters may have gone to the theological ball; the Holy Spirit got left behind every time. But not now. The rise of the charismatic movement within virtually every mainstream church has ensured that the Holy Spirit figures prominently on the theological agenda. A new experience of the reality and power of the Spirit has had a major impact upon the theological discussion of the person and work of the Holy Spirit" (Alister McGrath).

We live in a rather odd season in the history of the church of Jesus Christ. What isn’t odd or strange is the spread of new and unbiblical doctrines. That, sadly, is something of a commonplace in church history. There always have been and always will be people who profess to know Christ and claim to believe in the authority of the Bible who promote false teachings, some of which are undeniably heretical.

I can’t begin to tell you how many times during the course of a normal week that someone asks me, in an obviously distressed and confused tone of voice: “Sam, what’s wrong with our world? What is happening? Is there any hope at all?”

Last week I came across an article (www.mattmoore.org, “Is Your Heart Good Soil?”) that instantly captured my attention. The author confessed both his “sadness and terror” as he thought about the departure from Christianity on the part of several of his close friends. “One moment they appeared to be joyfully walking with God,” he writes, “and then out of nowhere — to my shock and horror — they began trampling all over his Son . . . . I'm not talking about just a little backsliding or a bit of stumbling. These guys and gals flat out rejected Jesus. Today, they proudly admit that they couldn't care less about the biblical realities of sin, judgment, or God's gracious offer of redemption. They are utterly finished with Christianity.”

Blaise Pascal, a 17th century French philosopher and mathematician, once said, and I quote: “All men seek happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they may employ, happiness is their end. The reason why some go to war and others avoid it, is the desire for happiness. . . . This (happiness) is the motive of every action of every man, even of those who hang themselves” (Pensees, no. 425).

There was a time when I thought the verb “enjoy” and the noun “God” should never be used in the same sentence. I could understand “fearing” God and “obeying” God, even “loving” God. But “enjoying” God struck me as inconsistent with the biblical mandate both to glorify God, on the one hand, and deny myself, on the other. How could I be committed above all else to seeking God’s glory if I were concerned about my own joy? My gladness and God’s glory seemed to cancel each other out. I had to choose between one or the other, but embracing them both struck me as out of the question. Worse still, enjoying God sounded a bit too lighthearted, almost casual, perhaps even flippant, and I knew that Christianity was serious business.

I’ve had the privilege in life to know a good many so-called “famous” people. I hesitate to say this because it may sound like name-dropping, something I deplore. The fact that God has providentially orchestrated my life so that I have had the opportunity to become friends with famous and quite successful Christians has nothing to do with me. It says nothing about me. So I mention this only to draw attention to the fact that no earthly acquaintance or friendship can come remotely close to the glory and honor and joy of being friends with Jesus. His is the only name worth dropping!

The author of the book of Hebrews said something in chapter five of his letter that is extraordinarily relevant to the lives of Christian men and women today. He said that “solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil” (Heb. 5:14). By “solid food” he means the deep things that God has revealed to us. A lot of Christians would prefer never to be challenged or stretched when it comes to biblical truth. They much prefer to be constantly fed with a liquid diet of revealed truth. They don’t want the meat of the word. Sometimes it’s hard to chew, and at other times even harder to swallow.

Let me be clear right from the start. I stole the title for today’s message from the sub-title to J. D. Greear’s book, Jesus Continued: Why the Spirit Inside You is Better than Jesus Beside You. It’s an excellent book that I recommend you read. Even if you don’t get around to reading it, I suspect that the sub-title will surely capture your attention. Is it really true that having the Holy Spirit live inside us forever is actually better than walking and talking in the physical presence of Jesus at our side?

I despise the term, Indian-giver. If you look it up in Webster’s Dictionary it is defined as “a person who gives something to another and then takes it back.” I was happy to discover that the Concise Oxford English Dictionary doesn’t even include a listing for the term. I don’t know where it came from or when it was first coined, but it is derogatory of Native Americans and perhaps even racist. It suggests that an “Indian” is by nature the sort of individual who cannot be trusted when he gives you something because he is just as likely to take it away without cause or justification. So let’s dispense with the term altogether.

On a somewhat regular basis, young married couples will come to me and ask my advice about how they might learn to pray together. Often, it is either only the husband or the wife who comes and complains that his/her spouse remains silent when the other prays aloud. For any of you to whom this applies, please don’t take offense or feel any shame. Ann and I struggled with this for several years early on in our marriage. I couldn’t understand why Ann was so reluctant to pray in front of me, and it was only after quite a few years that I discovered the reason: she didn’t entirely trust me with her heart and her deepest desires and fears.

Last week I indicated to you that there are four glorious truths found in the opening five verses of John 17. We looked at the first two of them last Sunday. The first is found in v. 1 where Jesus affirmed the absolute sovereignty of God the Father over his life and the time of his death. This we see in his words, “Father, the hour has come.” The second truth is stated both in v. 1 and again in vv. 4-5. There we were given a glimpse into the love of God for his people. I won’t repeat myself again today, but let me simply sum up the second of these two glorious truths by saying this.

Is there a unifying theme to the extended prayer of Jesus in John 17? I mentioned to you in an earlier message that John 17 ought to be called “The Lord’s Prayer” insofar as it is a prayer that he himself actually prayed. What we typically call the Lord’s Prayer is found in the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew 6:9-15. But there is one thing in that prayer that Jesus never could and never would have prayed. Jesus instructs his disciples to pray: “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matt. 6:12). But Jesus had no sin, he had no debts, he committed no trespasses that needed to be forgiven. So the prayer in Matthew 6 is the “Lord’s Prayer” only in the sense that it contains his instruction on how you and I are supposed to pray.

Most people in this room was either not yet born or far too young to remember the momentous events of 1948. This was the year that witnessed the formation of what is known as The World Council of Churches. The driving force behind the establishment of this organization was a desire for Christian unity.

I know some of you don’t like your jobs. And I can understand why. You struggle to get up each day and return to a task that either bores you or wears you out or feels unproductive. But you do it anyway because you know that God honors hard work and you know you have an obligation to pay your bills and you know that others depend on you. I say this because I want to say Thank You to everyone at Bridgeway. Thank you for paying me to do something that I enjoy more than anything else in the world. I’m never bored with what I do. I never struggle to get up each day and resume my responsibilities as senior pastor of this church. I get worn out on a fairly regular basis, but that’s largely because I’m getting old. Sometimes I feel unproductive because I don’t see the fruit or results in some people’s lives that I had hoped to see. But aside from that, I can’t begin to imagine doing anything else than what I do. So, thank you!

Before we dive into the deep end of our Lord’s experience in the Garden of Gethsemane, you need to understand that he did it for you. You need to come to grips with the remarkable and mysterious truth that what motivated Jesus to persevere through the pain of Gethsemane was his love for you. Knowing what was in the heart of Jesus will make all the difference in the world when you turn to understand, make sense of, and appreciate what he did.

The anguish of Gethsemane is over. Jesus has pressed through, submitting his will to the will of his Father. He will drink the cup that is prepared for him, the cup of God’s righteous wrath and judgment against those for whom Jesus soon will give himself as a substitute on the cross.

There are a number of things in this world that make my blood boil. Like you, I become enraged when I hear of a child being abused, or perhaps of a wife being physically assaulted by her husband. My reaction when I hear of a vulnerable and elderly widow being scammed out of what little money she has provokes only a slightly less intense anger in my heart.

As I was studying and preparing this week to preach on this passage that concerns Jesus and Barabbas, it struck me that most non-Christians are likely to be perplexed as to why we would spend so much time and energy talking about something that happened 2,000 years ago. I suspect that even a few believers might wonder about that as well. After all, our country is in one of the worst financial crises in its history. Swept up in this Covid-19 pandemic, everything we’ve come to expect day in and day out has changed. Countless people have filed for bankruptcy and untold numbers of small businesses will likely never re-open.

Aside from a few notable biblical exceptions such as Enoch and Elijah, all people die. I suppose I should also include as exceptions to that otherwise unbreakable law the final generation of Christians who will be alive when Jesus returns. But, again, aside from these obvious and unusual exceptions, the law of life is that all people die.

As you know, there are significant differences between ancient forms of capital punishment and our modern approach to the issue. Today, every effort is made to sanitize the execution of a criminal. Elaborate steps are taken to ensure that his or her death be as painless and inoffensive as possible.

Wheaton College graduate and missionary Jim Elliot is most widely known for having lost his life trying to bring the gospel to the Auca Indians in the rainforest of Ecuador. If Elliot is known for anything else, it is the statement he made that largely accounts for why he was willing to sacrifice his own life for the sake of this Indian tribe. Said Elliot: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose.”

I have a confession to make. There have been times in my Christian life when I’ve felt intimidated by the Great Commission (Matt. 28:18-20). When I think about the command of Jesus that we are to “go”, I worry that I might not have the required courage to obey. When I hear him tell us to “make disciples of all nations” and to “baptize” them, I feel profoundly inadequate. And when he exhorts us to “teach” others to observe or obey everything he has commanded, I realize that such applies equally to me. I am responsible not simply to “teach” others to obey but also to do so myself.

Aside from Judas Iscariot, who betrayed our Lord into the hands of his enemies and later committed suicide, the apostle who has had to endure the greatest assault on his character is Thomas. What do we know about this man, and why should we care? Do his life and experience and relation to Jesus have anything of practical value for us today? The answer, I assure you, is Yes!

Some who study John’s gospel suggest that we should simply ignore this final chapter. It doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the gospel account of the life and ministry of Jesus. They insist that there is very little, if anything, of spiritual or practical value in these verses. I disagree. And I believe that once you look closely at them with me, you will also agree that there is much for us to learn here.