Proper 7 – Year C
Sermon Notes from the Church’s Ministry Among Jewish People
RCL Readings[1] – I Kings 19:1-15a; Psalm 42-43; Galatians 3:23-29; Luke 8:26-39
ACNA Readings – Zechariah 12:8-10, 13:1; Psalm 63; Galatians 3:23-29; Luke 9:18-24
Seasonal Introduction. This season is often called “Ordinary Time,” a term derived from ordinal, meaning “numbered” or “in sequence.” However, there is nothing ordinary about this time. Rather, it is a time when we may reflect on how God (starting on Trinity Sunday and ending with Christ the King Sunday) has been at work in our own lives, the lives of his people, and how he will continue to work in the days to come. Ordinary Time is a season when we are invited to perceive the mystery of God at work in our daily lives, in the ordinary, in the mundane.
Common Theme. Ordinary, everyday life is filled with ups and downs—good times and bad times. The Bible deals with the realities of life, it does not sugar-coat matters. In our readings, the prophet Elijah experiences deep despair not long after a career high point, defeating the prophets of Baal and seeing God come through in spectacular fashion. The Psalms pick up on being downcast yet still praising God. The disciples went from fearing for their lives to watching the creator of the universe easily calm a storm and cast out a demon. Whether we are filled with hope and glorifying God or we are in sorrow and despair, we are called to take up our cross and walk after Him.
Hebraic Context. Faith, or faithfulness, is not a simple concept in the Scriptures. It has deep Hebraic roots and acts as a verb. Faith is demonstrated through loyalty, obedience, or steadfastness. But Paul is writing in Greek, where faith is often a noun (although in Greek histories it can still be used to speak of actions, such as whether a city is considered faithful). This can cause confusion on what Paul is speaking about as his use of faith can neither be divorced from the Hebrew nor the Greek. But faith is neither trust nor hope, it is the evidence of something hoped for—or someone who is trustworthy.
Paul’s phrase “before faith came” in Galatians 3:23 builds directly on verse 22: “… so that the promise by faith in Jesus the Messiah might be given to those who believe.” This phrasing helps clarify what Paul means by “faith.” He is not suggesting that people before Jesus lacked faith—such a claim would be absurd. Abraham, Moses, Hannah, David, and countless others demonstrated deep trust and loyalty to God. The Hebrew Scriptures are full of men and women of faith; many are celebrated in Hebrews 11 and 12 as examples of steadfast trust.
But the “faith” Paul refers to here is more specific—it is the Good News itself. It is the Gospel: the revelation that Jesus is the Messiah, the Redeemer long promised in the Scriptures. God had foretold a New Covenant in which the Torah would be written on our hearts and sins would be forgiven. This is the faith that has now “come”—not belief in general, but the arrival of the Messiah and the proclamation of His kingdom.
Before this Good News was revealed, the Torah served as a guardian (paidagogos in Greek, אמן, omen, in Hebrew), guiding the people of Israel like a watchman watching over a child. It formed a frame—a structure that promoted flourishing, justice, and divine wisdom. The Torah shaped the people of God and pointed forward to the Messiah. Jesus did not abolish the Torah; He fulfilled it (cf. Matthew 5:17). He is its telos—its goal, aim, and embodiment.
When Paul says that “after faith came we are no longer under a guardian,” he does not mean that the Torah is obsolete or without value. Rather, its preparatory role—guiding Israel toward Messiah—has been fulfilled. Yet God’s instructions remain holy and wise, still offering unmatched insight for study, correction, and right living. Name any other system of law in human history with greater wisdom than the statutes of God? They are still tov—good.
I Kings 19:1-15a. Although Elijah wasn’t a writing prophet, he was still one of the great prophets of Israel. Not only had Elijah promised a three-year drought—as Deuteronomy warned would happen when the people turned to foreign gods[2]—but he had also overseen the defeat of Baal on Mount Carmel.[3] Immediately afterwards, God caused rain to fall on the land. Yet, despite these great miracles that proved God was not only real but greater than the other gods of the region, Elijah was in despair. He retreated from before the wrath of Jezebel because she sought his life. Ironically, Elijah running from death, proceeded to pray for death—how quickly the victories of God faded from Elijah’s memory.
But perhaps we should sympathize with Elijah. Not only did Jezebel seek to kill him, but these mighty miracles, the drought and famine in Israel and the success at Mount Carmel (and subsequent rain and harvest), may have felt like failures. The miracles and displays of sovereignty did not elicit the hoped for national spiritual revival. Instead, the evil monarchy remained in power and the Israelites continued to reject the Lord—not for a lack of evidence but in spite of the evidence. It was while Elijah was in the depths of his despair that the Lord came to minister to His prophet. God did not accuse Elijah but provided him with food and drink to live.
Elijah received rest and nourishment and then was directed on a long journey that would end at Mount Horeb, also known as Mount Sinai. Horeb was known as a place to meet with God. It was the place that God called Moses to redeem the people of Israel. It was the place where God introduced His Torah—His teaching, guidance, and instructions to the world. It would be the place God would give Elijah his final instructions. But it would not be immediate even though God could have easily met Elijah on Mount Carmel, Beersheva, or anywhere in between—Elijah’s journey would last for forty days while fasting throughout.[4]
After leaving Beersheva he traveled the long 40 day journey to arrive at a cave in Horeb, the mountain of God. From the text it appears that Elijah knew the location of Mt Sinai.[5] Once Elijah arrived, he found a cave and waited. The cave itself may be a reference to the ‘cleft in the rock’ that Moses was in when the Lord passed by, revealing his great goodness to Moses. God spoke to Elijah, first to ask Elijah what he was doing at the mountain of God. What a question, considering it was God who provided the food to Elijah and told him it was in preparation for a long journey—presumably to Mount Sinai. Elijah, after a forty day fast and journey, was still depressed. Israel had not suddenly turned back to God and Elijah did not suddenly feel joyful and blessed. God then told Elijah to leave the cave and stand on the mountain.
Just as when God met with Moses and the Israelites, there is a great wind, earthquake, and fire. But this time, instead of all Israel seeing the voice of God speak in the thunder, God was not there. Only at the end did God speak, and that in less than a whisper. But, as Elijah heard it, he covered his face and did as God commanded, leaving the cave and standing on the mountain of God.
Just like with the Israelites, God’s manifest power did not change Elijah. When asked a second time, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”, the answer was precisely the same as it had been before God showed His power. But when God told Elijah to eat, he ate. When God prepared Elijah for a journey, Elijah walked. And when God told Elijah to go back and finish three final tasks, Elijah obeyed.
Psalm 42-43. While Psalm 42 and 43 are separated by a chapter marker in most Bibles, they are clearly connected by their poetic structure and a shared refrain. Psalm 42:1 is well known, “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God.” This is a beautiful Hebraic poetic parallel and provides us with a poetic picture for our imagination. But it is the refrain in Psalm 42:5, 11, and Psalm 43:5 that connects the verses to the author’s internal struggle, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?”
The Sons of Korah were worship leaders in the Temple. Even as the psalmist recalls leading the people of Israel “in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise” he makes it clear that life was not perfect. The psalmist was surrounded by those who mocked God: “Where is your God?” But the refrain isn’t just about the tears, it also states “Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.” Others may not desire to seek or worship God, but his soul will—just as a deer seeks after water.
Once again, in the second verse (Psalm 42:6-10), there will be those who mock and ask, “Where is your God?”. It is a strange thing that a worship leader at the Temple would be in the land around Mount Hermon in the far north, where the headwaters of the Jordan flow. There are no real waterfalls near Jerusalem. Only far to the north—in the Golan and Galilee near Mount Hermon—or in the desert springs of Ein Gedi can waterfalls be heard in Israel. On the one hand, God is continually with the psalmist in steadfast love as they sing and pray. On the other hand, the psalmist is no longer leading a procession to the house of God—it is only in his memory—for he is oppressed by enemies.[6] Still, the psalmist could “hope in God” even as his soul was cast down.
In the final verse (Psalm 43:1-4), the psalmist prays for vindication and deliverance. But he remains dejected and in mourning. He is still far away from the Temple, the work God had called him to do, and he is oppressed. But he is ready to return to God’s holy hill—to the dwelling place of God—and “to God my exceeding joy”. The psalmist gives us an honest prayer to God that allows sorrow and hope to both be present. The psalmist holds onto God even in his feelings of abandonment. He is oppressed by man but still finds joy in God.
Jewish life allows things to be held in tension—rather than this or that, it can be both this and that. Psalm 42-43 shows us a way to pray in earnest, heartfelt pain. There are many times that godly men and women have argued with God—including Jesus as He prayed in the garden. But they also surrender to God and worship Him in confession and praise.
Galatians 3:23-29. Paul seems to be speaking of a very particular faith in Galatians. The Scriptures speak of faith from Exodus 17 (before the giving of the law) through Revelation. Men and women of faith were servants and friends of God long before Jesus’ advent. God Himself acted in faith (or faithfulness) throughout history. But Galatians 1:23 may give us a clue how Paul, who often preached about faith and faithfulness, could speak of a time “before faith came”. Regarding Paul, it was said, “He who used to persecute us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy.” The faith that Paul was trying to persecute and destroy was the good news—that Jesus is the Messiah, God Himself, humble servant and yet conqueror of death—the Gospel. More than that, the faith that Paul was persecuting was Jesus Himself—Jesus asked Paul “why are you persecuting me”.
Why does Paul use faith in his argument? Paul had a very deep understanding of Hebraic thought and understandings of the Scriptures and commonly used them to build up his argument. Faith, in Hebrew, is אמונה (emunah) but this has the same root as amen, truth, and guardian. Ruth 4:16 lovingly speaks of Naomi being able to nurse, or be the guardian (אמן, omen), of her grandson. Esther 2:7 tells us that Mordechai became the guardian (אמן, omen) of Esther when her parents died. Isaiah 49:23 speaks of foreign kings being the guardians of Jewish children and caringly bringing them back to the land of Israel, “They shall bring your sons in their arms, and your daughters shall be carried on their shoulders. Kings shall be your foster fathers [אמן, omen].”
Numbers 11:11-14 gives us an example of the responsibility that being a guardian brings. Moses, acting as the guardian of the people of Israel is overburdened with this responsibility as he is not able to provide meat to all the people. Paul seems to use this understanding as he brings together the concepts of faith and the guardian. Each of these guardians acts in love and care for their charges, even if they are burdened.
The Torah, law, is never regarded as a bad thing in Scripture. The Hebraic belief that the Torah gives life is so strong, based on Leviticus 18:5 “You shall therefore keep my statutes and my rules; if a person does them, he shall live by them: I am the LORD” that if obedience of a law would directly and clearly lead to death—such as in the case of lying to save someone’s life during the holocaust or working in a hospital on Shabbat—then that law must be temporarily suspended in that particular case. For God gave the Torah to provide life and not death. But there is something greater than the law—the lawgiver and lifegiver.
This leads to Paul’s central point: through Christ, God transforms our relationship with the law. The law, though good and life-giving, was never meant to be the ultimate source of redemption. Instead, it serves as a guide and a tutor, preparing humanity for the coming of the Messiah. And the Messiah is a promise made to Abraham for all nations that everyone can be an heir of—Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female.[7] In Galatians 4:4-5, Paul connects our redemption not with Jesus’ death or resurrection but with the incarnation—with Jesus. Paul continuously connects who we are with Jesus—the Messiah: our faith, baptism, clothing, and promise—we belong to Him.
Luke 8:26-39. While Israel wasn't a large nation in the first centuries, there were many cultural groups throughout the land: Jews, Gentiles, and Samaritans. Even among the Jewish population, there were Galileans and Judeans, Sadducees, Hellenists, Pharisees and visiting worshipers from the Diaspora. The Gentile population was also diverse, with local Idumeans, Roman military centers (along with retired Roman soldiers and their families from across the empire), and the citizens of the Decapolis to the north and east.
Luke tells us that Jesus sailed across the Sea of Galilee to the land of the Gerasenes.[8] A mighty windstorm rose up, and the disciples feared for their lives, but Jesus simply rebuked the storm—and it ceased. Jesus had power over the elements themselves. Luke then continues by declaring Jesus’ power over demons. Though Jesus and the disciples had only travelled a few kilometers by sea, they were now outside the Jewish-majority regions of Galilee or Judea. The Jews, including Jesus and the apostles, had a very negative view of demons and all spiritual opposition to God. The Greeks and Romans, on the other hand, often saw demons as intermediaries between gods and humans.[9]
In Acts 16, Luke records how a couple of intrepid businessmen in Philippi used a slave girl possessed by a spirit of divination to earn great profit. Meanwhile, the Talmud speaks of sacrifice—even human sacrifice—to foreign gods as sometimes being efficacious, but immediately responds that the worship and sacrifice to these foreign gods only results in condemnation by God.[10] By the first century, common Jewish thought on these foreign deities was that the idols were fallen angels—that is, demons. Demons were also commonly associated with desert places in Jewish literature, a point Luke also makes in this account.
This demon-possessed man was terrifying: naked, living in a cemetery, and able to break chains and shackles. Yet Legion could only fall down before Jesus and declare Him as the “Son of the Most High God” begging for a time of clemency. At Jesus’ word, the demons left the man and entered a nearby herd of pigs, which immediately rushed into the lake and drowned.
But this wasn’t only about the power of Jesus. Jewish scholars of the Second Temple period had noted that God acted in mercy: clothing the naked (Adam and Eve), visiting the sick and consoling those who mourn (Abraham), burying the dead (Moses) along with other things such as feeding the hungry (Elijah and Elisha), providing hospitality, visiting those in prison (Joseph), and more.[11]
God’s people were to act with mercy even as God acted in mercy. Matthew 25:31-46 lists the same actions that God took as being required of us at the time of judgment. While we often read of Jesus serving the sick, feeding the hungry, and even consoling those who mourn and visiting those in prison, this is the only instance we see where Jesus clothed the naked. Once again, He demonstrates that He acts in mercy, following the example of His Father.
However, the Hellenistic and Gentile city responded quite differently than the Jewish regions. In Capernaum, when Jesus healed a man of an unclean spirit, Luke records that the people were amazed and quickly brought others to be healed.[12] But here, the Gentile population, filled with fear, begged Jesus to leave their land. Even so, at least one man—formerly possessed—now longed to become Jesus’ disciple. Instead, Jesus sent him back to be a witness to his own people. We don’t know the results of his testimony to his neighbours, but Luke records that the man was faithful in the mission Jesus gave him.
Hebraic Perspective. Waiting is not a popular virtue. It is often frustrating—and can lead to disillusionment or despair. But in the Scriptures, waiting is not passive, “Wait on the LORD” is a disciplined and attentive action. We are to endure as we trust in God and prepare—but it can still be painful.
Abraham is considered one of the great men of faith. God called him to leave everything behind for a land that He would show him. But the promises—land, descendants, and blessings—did not unfold as we might expect from the promises of God. Abraham waited decades for a son. He lived as a sojourner in a land not his own. At the end of his life, he had one son and a small burial plot for his wife. But Abraham’s faith wasn’t a vague optimism. His waiting was marked by obedience and movement. He waited while walking. He trusted while acting.
Waiting, קוה (qavah), is an active verb in Hebrew. ‘To wait’ is linked with other verbs such as “to look” in Job 6:19 or “be strong and take courage” in Psalm 27:14. In modern parlance, a waiter doesn’t “wait all the day long” doing nothing—a waiter is constantly paying attention and then acting where appropriate. Abram waited on God—as he walked from Mesopotamia to Canaan; as he lived in obedience, albeit not without sin, and faith.
The psalmist in Psalm 42-43 is another example. He had to wait on God to bring him back from the north to serve once again in the temple. He hopes that he can one day praise God with his lyre in the courts of the Lord. But even while he is oppressed and exiled, he still sings and prays. Interestingly, we aren’t actually told if he is brought back by God. His waiting remains unresolved—but not silent.
Elijah also had to wait. In fear, despair, and exhaustion, he wanted to die. But when God called him to walk, Elijah walked. Elijah awaited his own death at the hands of Jezebel, but when God called him to return, Elijah returned. Elijah expected death, and God eventually called Elijah to heaven (although not through death), but Elijah had to wait while he acted in obedience. Those who trust in the Lord endure—patiently looking and seeking God’s hand at work in the world and for His strength and guidance. God provides strength and power for use in His service.
Waiting is part of our calling. We are told to eagerly await the coming of the Messiah. But everyone assumes they won’t have to wait long, surely Jesus is coming very soon. He will come, and he is coming soon. But “soon” is likely going to after many, if not all of us, die. And yet, we are called to wait—not in resignation or even a vague hope, but with faithfulness until He returns. We endure. We stay awake. And we remain ready to obey—even if we do not see the result.
ACNA Readings
Zechariah 12:8-10, 13:1. There are many phrases that prompt us to think eschatologically. Terms like, “the Day of the LORD”, (ביום יהוה, b’yom Adonai), and “the latter days”, (אחרית הימים, aharit ha’yamim) often point to events in the future. However, they do not always refer to a single, specific day in the future. Likewise, “on that day”, (ביום ההוא, ba’yom ha’hu) may simply indicate a future time. For example, Exodus 13:8 says, “You shall tell your son on that day, ‘It is because of what the LORD did for me when I came out of Egypt.”[13] Yet in the prophets, the term often takes on a future, eschatological tone.[14]
Zechariah speaks of a day when GOD Himself will protect the inhabitants of Jerusalem. His language echoes Psalm 82, where God holds judgment on those who prey on the needy, the weak, the destitute. There, too, God declares that these people are “gods, sons of the Most High” but will die like men. In Zechariah, by contrast, they are the feeble—they are the needy, the weak, and the destitute. God will have mercy on them and judge those who prey on them.
Zechariah 12:10 is often interpreted Messianically by Christians—and rightly so, as seen in John 19:37 and Revelation 1:7. The speaker—identified as the LORD—refers to Himself as the one who will be pierced in Jerusalem. Yet God pours out His spirit of grace on those who have pierced Him. They, in turn, will mourn. This is not condemnation—it is restoration. This is specifically a prophecy about the inhabitants of Jerusalem and shows that God is not holding a grudge against them due to “deicide”—on the contrary, God will draw them back to Himself.
God will not only physically protect Judah and Jerusalem, although we ought not minimize that as we so often do, He will also cleanse them of sin and uncleanness. What causes God’s judgment in Psalm 82—neglect of justice and righteousness—is what will cause God’s mercy and grace in Zechariah. And yet, judgment still comes. As in Psalm 82, God stands to judge—this time against the nations who rise up against Jerusalem. But the story doesn’t end only in judgment. Zechariah 14 speaks of a remnant among the nations, “Then everyone who survives of all the nations that come against Jerusalem shall go up year after year to worship the King, the LORD of hosts.” Many (although not all) from the nations will come to worship in Jerusalem with Israel.
Psalm 63. David writes this psalm from the wilderness–not as a young shepherd watching his flock, but as a man on the run from his enemies (if Psalm 63:9 is any indication of his situation). While David was running for his life, pursued by evil men and with danger all around, he wrote, “earnestly I seek you.” David has nothing: no food and drink from his palace, no bed, and no power given by the sword.
With nothing else to lean on, David puts his hope in God. Success doesn’t bring satisfaction, joy, or hope. Rather, clinging to God is what upholds him. It may very well be that suffering produces endurance, character, and hope “and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts…” David declares that God’s “steadfast love is better than life.”
As David is looking up at the stars during another long night on watch for his enemies, he can seek God, bless God, praise God, and know that it is the Creator that provides life. In Psalm 27, David states that he wants to seek after God and asks to “dwell in the house of the LORD”. He also believes he will “look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living”. Now, in Psalm 63:2—when He is no longer in Jerusalem and near the Ark of the Covenant or the mountain he purchased for the temple to God—he can say that he has looked upon God in the sanctuary and has seen God’s power and glory.
Luke 9:18-24. The Gospels are finely crafted texts. They recorded not only what Jesus said but also the location where he said it. Mark and Matthew tell us the events of Luke 9:18-24 (and, presumably, the Transfiguration) occurred in the region of Caesarea Philippi. Jesus intentionally travelled from the Galilee to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. It was a very pagan and Hellenistic location, a long day and half journey from the Sea of Galilee—it was also the capital of Herod Philip, one of the Herodian Tetrarchs. This well known pagan, idol-worshipping city was where Jesus asked His disciples the fundamental question, “Who do people say that I am?” However, Luke's account does not record the location—choosing instead to focus on Peter’s answer to Jesus’ question; Jesus’ declaration that he would soon be killed and raised to life; and that, as Jewish disciples, to follow Jesus would also mean taking up a cross and losing their lives.
This question of ‘Who do you say that I am?’ is a question that we are all required to answer. In Luke 9:7-9, we see that Herod had heard various rumors about Jesus’ identity. Some said He was John the Baptist, who Herod had murdered. Others suggested Jesus might be Elijah, which would mean they were living in the end of days—a terrible time for the unrighteous, since Elijah was to be the forerunner of the Messiah. But when Jesus asked Peter, he declared that Jesus is “The Christ of God”.
Jesus, in response to the confession of Peter, alluded to the book of Daniel and the “Son of Man” to explain what would soon happen—namely, that the son of man would suffer and die. In Daniel 7:14, the Son of Man approached the throne of heaven and was acknowledged by the Ancient of Days and given the dominion of the kingdoms of the world. Later Jewish traditions linked the Son of Man with the Messiah. Yet, perplexingly to many, Daniel 9:24-26 depicts the Messiah as being “cut off”, indicating a sudden or violent death.[15]
Jesus’ plain teaching regarding the Son of Man’s impending end surely shook the messianic expectations of the disciples. According to the more popular view in the early first century this was not something that the Messiah was supposed to do. Redemption and God’s Kingdom meant the overthrow of the oppressor, not suffering at the hands of the oppressor. And surely the one with all authority from God wouldn’t be rejected or suffer—He certainly would not be killed.
Once again, Luke omits Peter’s rebuke, which we see in the other gospels (something a disciple should never do) and instead focuses on what a disciple must do—follow their master. Contained within the call of discipleship is the paradoxical teaching of Jesus. The path of salvation involves daily self-sacrifice and not personal ambition and power. The Messiah himself would demonstrate this through His suffering and death and so bring redemption and life everlasting. To the world, it does seem foolish to say that life will come from death, yet for a follower of Jesus, a resurrection life can only proceed from a dying life. From a place of idolatry and cultural power Jesus made His declaration and followed through on turning His face towards Jerusalem to walk the way of the cross. He is our example.
Endnotes
[1] RCL alternate readings: Isaiah 65:1-9; Psalm 22:19-28
[2] Deuteronomy 11:16-17, 28:23-24
[3] Mount Carmel, situated near the coast and farther north in the Levant, receives more rainfall than many parts of Israel or Judah. There were several Baal’s in the Levant, but one of the common domains of Baal was control of weather. Another was rebirth, such as the turning of the seasons. The drought, fire (or lightning), and rain proved the power of God in the precise areas that Baal was most known to be powerful.
[4] Forty (whether days or years) is a common time frame in the Bible. Moses was thought to have fasted for forty days on Mount Sinai, Elijah was given food prior to his travel to Mount Sinai, presumably as he would fast for the entirety of the journey, and Jesus also fasted forty days in the wilderness. All three fasts were directly related to meeting God (Moses and Elijah hearing the voice of God on the mountain and Jesus being sent out into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit before God called out to Him at His baptism).
[5] Today, the location of the mountain of God is disputed by archeologists and scholars. The first time we encounter the term ‘mountain of God’ הַר הָאֱלֹהִים is in Exodus 3:1 where Moses is tending flocks for his father in law in Midian. The exact extent of the territory of Midian is also disputed with evidence pointing towards them dwelling well beyond the traditional “land of Midian” so that doesn’t help in locating the place (particularly as Horeb was at the edge, or even just beyond Midian). With our current evidence, to state the definitive location of the Biblical Mount Sinai is likely hubris. The mountain is known by two names, Horeb and Sinai and the meaning of those names is unclear. One tradition suggests that Horeb (the dry place) is related to a sun god while Sinai relates to a moon deity (similar to the wilderness of Sin–not related to the English word). There is also a Jewish tradition that says one side of the mountain was called Horeb and the other was called Sinai. Interestingly, the New Testament never uses the name Horeb, preferring to always reference the mountain as Sinai.
[6] The Psalm does not indicate if the psalmist is in exile or that there is a specific historical event linked to these Psalms. But whatever the historical and physical situation, we know that the psalmist is not geographically where he ought to be.
[7] This does not mean that all differences between men and women are removed. Men are still men and women are still women and there are still Jews and Greeks—but we are one in Jesus.
[8] This might be a scribal error as other manuscripts mention it as the land of Gadara or the land of Gergesa. Gadara and Gerasa were both part of the Decapolis, a group of ten Hellenistic cities on the east side of the Jordan (except in the case of Scythopolis, or Beit Shean, which is just west of the Jordan River). However, they are both inland. And so Gergesa, just above the Sea of Galilee but in the same region, seems like the most likely location. Several early church scholars also placed the location near Gergesa, or Kursi in the Byzantine period.
[9] Plato, Symposium 202e
[10] Avodah Zarah 55a.8-10
[11] Sotah 14a.4
[12] Luke 4:31-41
[13] See also: Leviticus 22:30; Joshua 14:12
[14] Isaiah 7:23-25; Isaiah 11:11; Isaiah 12:1; Isaiah 25:9; Hosea 1:5; Ezekiel 38:18
[15] The day of the LORD, or the end of days, that the Messiah would usher in wasn’t necessarily a good time even for Israel. But the Messiah would also suffer before He came as the Son of Man. See also Isaiah 53; Mark 13.