Jeremy R. Geerdes Posts

In Matthew 27:46, “Jesus cried out with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lemá sabachtháni?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'” It was quite possibly the most gut-wrenchingly bitter of Jesus’ seven statements from the cross. It was also probably the most profound because, in this haunting question, we find three significant truths.

To the first-century Jews who first heard Jesus tell the Parable of the Good Samaritan, the decision to include a Samaritan at all – let alone, to cast him as the hero of the story – was utterly shocking. Jews in Jesus’ time considered Samaritans to be mongrels, heretics, and interlopers. They were typically portrayed as violent, savage criminals who were just waiting for an opportunity to take what was rightfully Israel’s. No one stopped to wonder if these labels actually applied to an individual Samaritan because they were all considered part of the group. Thus, if a Jew saw a Samaritan, they would cross to the other side of the street, mutter some insult as they passed by, or worse. In fact, if a Jew saw a Samaritan injurred on the road, he was more likely to kick the Samaritan than render aid because, as a whole, Samaritans were loathed by the Jews. For the typical twenty-first century American evangelical, two groups perceived in a similar way are Palestinians and Mexican immigrants. Therefore, if Jesus re-told the Parable of the Good Samaritan today, in order to achieve the same effect, it would be the Parable of the Palestinian or Mexican Immgrant.

In his final moments on the cross, Jesus was thirsty, and in his thirst, we learn two critical lessons. First, he had a legitimate need that had to be satisfied. Are you taking care of yourself so you can take care of those around you? Are your needs important, too? Second, he had reached the point where, once and for all, his human desires were aligned with the Father’s divine will. Do you want what God wants? Are you thirsty?

DART and all of the various government, corporate, and private entities that have a stake in a thriving public transit system (hint: that’s all of us) must come together to find solutions for both the immediate problem and the longer-term concern of sustainability.

In 2 Chronicles 11:13-17, the priests and Levites took their stand with Rehoboam because he was the lesser of two evils. Granted, he allowed them to worship the Lord, but in the end, he was just as spiritually bankrupt as his northern counterpart. The alliance was doomed from the start, and any such alliance we forge today is doomed, too.

On November 7, Ward 1 voters went to the polls to select a new city council member. As the results rolled in, however, I could not help but think that the real winner was the people of Ward 1.

Colossians 1:28-29 served as the what, why, and how for his work as an apostle, helping to guide what he would (and would not) do, reminding him of its importance when things grew difficult, and explaining how it was even possible. Today, this declaration serves a similar purpose for pastors and other ministers.

The differences between contentment and complacency are subtle but profound. As Christians, contentment is key to experiencing new and abundant life, but complacency must be avoided at all costs. This side of glory, we must always recognize that we are not there yet and make every effort to reach our goal. This means forgetting what is behind, both failures and successes, reaching forward, and pursuing Jesus with everything we have.

The truth is that, if we fail in all our earthly plans and the whole world comes crashing down around us, we will succeed if we have carefully followed and obeyed God. Conversely, if we succeed in all our grand schemes but fail in faith and obedience, we will have truly failed indeed.

More specifically, when God revealed that David would not build the tabernacle, David did not throw a tantrum. He did not grumble about the lost opportunity to magnify the Lord. He did not rail against the glory that he would not receive among the nations. He did not take offense that his plan was rejected.