Weston Blaha

Tag: Jerusalem

  • Jericho Fell, The Temple Fell: God’s Plan for the Nations

    Jericho Fell, The Temple Fell: God’s Plan for the Nations

    Jericho fell so the Seed of promise might be sown. The Temple fell so that Christ’s harvest might be won.

    Sometimes a single line can capture the sweep of the whole Bible. From the walls of Jericho to the stones of the Temple, God has been writing one story: the story of Christ for the nations.

    Jericho Fell: A Seed Planted in the Land

    When Israel marched around Jericho and the walls came crashing down, it wasn’t just a victory for one nation. It was God’s way of planting His people in the land He had promised to Abraham.

    Why? Because God had already promised that through Abraham’s Seed all nations would be blessed (Genesis 12:3; Genesis 22:18). Jericho’s fall wasn’t about Israel’s glory—it was about clearing the ground so the Seed could take root in history. Because the Seed in view is a singular seed–its THE Seed: Christ. The land was never the ultimate goal; it was the soil in which God would grow His greater plan. The soil from which a Seed would become a cosmis tree:

    "I myself will take a sprig from the lofty top of the cedar and will set it out… On the mountain height of Israel I will plant it, that it may bear branches and produce fruit and become a noble cedar. And under it will dwell every kind of bird; in the shade of its branches birds of every sort will nest." (Ezekiel 17:22-24)

    The land was the down-payment. It was the security deposit. It was never the end goal. Jericho must fall so the Seed could be planted.

    The Temple Fell: A Harvest Opened to the World

    Centuries later, another set of stones fell. In A.D. 70, the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed. For many, it looked like the end of Israel’s story. But in reality, it was the next step in God’s plan.

    The Temple had pointed forward all along: to the once-for-all sacrifice of Christ, the true Lamb of God (John 1:29; Hebrews 10:11–14). When Christ died and rose again, the need for animal sacrifices ended. And when the Temple fell, the gospel was no longer tied to one city, one altar, or one people. The harvest of the nations had begun (John 12:24; Matthew 28:18–20).

    The tree was spreading its branches to cover the whole earth.

    One Story, One Savior, One Mission

    From the fall of Jericho to the fall of the Temple, God was moving history toward the same goal: salvation through Christ for all peoples.

    God’s plan has always been global. Always Christ-centered. Always aimed at a harvest of people from every tribe, tongue, and nation worshiping the Lamb (Revelation 7:9). Just as Jericho fell so the Seed might be planted, so the Temple fell so the branches might extend.

    What This Means for Us

    It means that God’s plan is unstoppable. What looks like ruin in the moment—whether the collapse of Jericho’s walls or the destruction of the Temple—is actually God’s way of moving His story forward. And it means that we, the Church, are caught up in this mission. We are the fruit of the harvest and also the laborers sent into the field (Matthew 9:37–38).

    So when we look back at Jericho and the Temple, we aren’t just reading history—we’re seeing our place in God’s story. Christ is the Seed. Christ is the Temple. Christ is for the nations.

    When you see the ruins of Jericho and the rubble of the Temple, remember: God builds His kingdom, not on human walls, but on Christ alone. And that kingdom has no boundaries.

  • The Sheep, the Goats, and the “Least of These”: Reading Matthew 25 in Context

    The Sheep, the Goats, and the “Least of These”: Reading Matthew 25 in Context

    Few passages in Scripture stir the conscience like Jesus’ parable of the sheep and goats in Matthew 25:31–46. The King returns, gathers the nations, and divides them as a shepherd separates sheep from goats. His criterion? How they treated “the least of these my brothers.”

    This phrase is often taken out of its first-century context and made into a universal humanitarian slogan—“Be kind to everyone, especially the poor.” While Christians are indeed called to compassion for all people (Gal. 6:10), this is not the point of Matthew 25. The passage has a sharper edge: it is about how the nations respond to Christ’s people—His disciples—during the period of gospel proclamation leading up to the judgment on Jerusalem in AD 70.

    Who Are “the Least of These My Brothers”?

    In Matthew’s Gospel, “brothers” (ἀδελφοί) consistently refers to Jesus’ disciples (see Matt. 12:48–50; 28:10). The “least” are those who are weak, marginalized, and often persecuted for the sake of the gospel. Jesus had already taught this connection in Matthew 10:40–42—receiving His messengers is receiving Him; rejecting them is rejecting Him.

    The parable in Matthew 25 comes at the end of the Olivet Discourse (Matt. 24–25), where Jesus has been speaking about His coming in judgment against Jerusalem. The “nations” (ἔθνη) are not gathered for some vague, end-of-time general inspection of morality; rather, they are being evaluated for how they treated Christ’s emissaries in the generation before the great tribulation of AD 66–70.

    Why This Matters

    While there are many variations of echatology, I share the perspective that the “coming” in Matthew 25 is not describing the end of the physical world but Christ’s coming in judgment against the covenant-breaking nation in the first century. The sheep and goats judgment, then, is tied to the mission of the disciples to the nations (Matt. 28:18–20) and the response they receive.

    In this light, the parable warns that nations and individuals would reveal their allegiance to Christ by their treatment of His people during the gospel’s explosive first-century advance. Supporting, sheltering, and aiding these persecuted witnesses was not mere charity—it was a recognition of the authority of the risen King. Refusing them was to side with the enemies of Christ.

    The Danger of the Humanitarian Hijack

    When “the least of these” is flattened into “the needy” in general, the historical context disappears. The parable is not a moral pep talk for random kindness—it is an eschatological warning rooted in covenant loyalty. Stripping away that context can turn the church into a generic NGO and rob the passage of its sharp, Christ-centered meaning.

    To be clear, this is not about narrowing our compassion; it’s about clarifying what this text is saying. The sheep are not commended for generic philanthropy, but for siding with Christ through tangible care for His people during a time of testing.

    Living the Text Today

    While the original setting is rooted in the first-century gospel mission and judgment on Israel, the principle remains: how we treat Christ’s people is how we treat Christ. Even now, caring for persecuted believers, supporting missionaries, and standing with the church in hardship is not optional charity—it is allegiance to the King.

    To serve “the least of these my brothers” is to serve Christ Himself.

    Sidebar: Common Objections

    Objection 1: “Doesn’t ‘the least of these’ just mean the poor in general?”
    Answer: In Matthew, “brothers” (ἀδελφοί) consistently refers to Jesus’ disciples (Matt. 12:49–50; 28:10). Matthew 10:40–42 directly connects welcoming Christ’s messengers with welcoming Him. This is a covenant family term, not a generic reference to humanity.

    Objection 2: “But shouldn’t Christians care for everyone, not just believers?”
    Answer: Absolutely—Galatians 6:10 makes that clear. But Matthew 25 has a specific, historical focus: the nations’ response to Christ’s messengers before the AD 70 judgment. General compassion is biblical, but this parable is about covenant allegiance.

    Objection 3: “Isn’t this interpretation too narrow?”
    Answer: Narrow doesn’t mean wrong—just precise. In the Olivet Discourse, Jesus is speaking about His return in judgment on Jerusalem and the mission of His disciples in that period. The “least” are persecuted simply because they belong to Him, not because they are poor.

    Objection 4: “What about Luke’s emphasis on the poor and marginalized?”
    Answer: Luke does highlight concern for the economically poor, but Matthew’s context is different—rooted in mission and covenant judgment. We must let each Gospel speak on its own terms instead of importing themes from one into another.

    Objection 5: “Doesn’t this make salvation depend on works?”
    Answer: No. The works in Matthew 25 are the evidence of allegiance to Christ, not the basis of salvation. The sheep are not saved because they aided His brothers, but their care for Christ’s people demonstrates that they belong to Him.

  • When the Kingdom Came in Power: Filling in the Gaps of Mark 8:38-9:1

    When the Kingdom Came in Power: Filling in the Gaps of Mark 8:38-9:1

    In Sunday’s sermon, we explored the sobering and triumphant declaration of Jesus in Mark 8:38–9:1. There, Jesus calls His followers to costly discipleship, warns of judgment, and makes a striking promise: that some standing there would not taste death until they saw the kingdom of God come with power.

    That closing line (9:1) is one of the most debated statements in the New Testament. What did Jesus mean? And did it really come to pass? If not, is it a future event yet to occur? Or could Jesus have been mistaken? This blog post is meant to fill in some of the historical and theological gaps from the sermon and to reaffirm the heart of the message: Jesus was not mistaken. He meant what He said. And His words were fulfilled within a generation.

    The Covenant Context of “Coming”

    In the ancient world, a god “coming” was often a metaphor for divine intervention in history—especially in judgment. This concept saturates the Old Testament. YHWH came in the cloud at Sinai (Ex. 19), in judgment on Egypt (Isa. 19), and through the armies of Babylon against Judah (Hab. 1:6). Significantly, to say that “God is coming” didn’t always mean a physical, visible appearance; it meant His presence would be made known in real and often terrifying ways.

    Jesus picks up that same covenantal framework (He is YHWH, after all–see “Is Jesus YHWH” for more on that). When He says that the Son of Man will come “in the glory of His Father with the holy angels” (8:38), He is invoking Daniel 7—a vision of the Son of Man receiving dominion and judgment authority. This “coming” is judicial, not geographical. In other words, it is expressly covenantal.

    Deuteronomy 28 and the Pattern of Judgment

    In Deuteronomy 28, Israel was warned that if they broke covenant, God would bring foreign nations as judgment: “The Lord will bring a nation against you from far away… like an eagle swooping down” (v. 49). This is the language of divine coming through historical agents. When Jesus predicted Jerusalem’s destruction (cf. Mark 13), He wasn’t imagining some distant apocalypse—He was announcing that the covenant curses were about to fall. And in AD 70, they did—Rome came like a flood.

    Why Not the Transfiguration?

    Some argue that Mark 9:1 refers to the Transfiguration, which happens just six days later. While there are connections—the glory, the divine voice, the cloud—the time-frame of the promise feels exaggerated if it only meant one week later. Additionally, Jesus says that “some standing here will not taste death.” That implies that most would die before this event—hardly a fitting way to describe something happening six days later. With his death, resurrection, ascension, and Pentecost only months away, the fall of Jerusalem nearly 40 years later fits the language better.

    Theological Support

    R.C. Sproul wrote, “The ‘coming’ of Christ in judgment was a real and visible event for those who lived through the fall of the city… not merely a future return.” N.T. Wright likewise argues that Jerusalem’s fall was the public vindication of Jesus’ kingdom mission. Even Matthew Henry notes that Christ’s prediction in Mark 9:1 was fulfilled within that generation.

    So What?

    Jesus’ words came true. Some of those standing there—perhaps John, perhaps others—lived to see the kingdom come in power through judgment. It was not the end of the world, but it was the end of an age. The temple fell, the old covenant was judged and fulfilled, the Church expanded, and Christ was vindicated as Lord.

    For us today, this means Jesus’ words are trustworthy. His kingdom is real. And when He speaks of discipleship, judgment, and glory, He is not playing with vague metaphors, rather, He is proclaiming covenant truth. So take up your cross. Don’t be ashamed of Him. The kingdom has come in power—and it’s still advancing today.