We don't very often think about Jesus being angry. He exhibits compassion, patience, kindness-and we most often think of him in these terms. Rightly, I believe. But I came upon a passage this morning that says he got angry, and it got me to thinking. What makes Jesus mad?

Several times the apostle Paul makes visiting brothers and sisters a matter for prayer. This may seem to be a kind of obscure thing to pray for, considering all the things we urgently, or seriously, or desperately need to pray about. But to Paul it was clearly something important. Maybe it ought to be for us too?

With his final breath, Jesus "uttered a loud cry", according to Matthew and Mark. It's only Luke who tells us what he cried out: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." But even Luke doesn't let us know that Jesus, with his last breath, was quoting from a psalm. He had earlier quoted from Psalm 22.

In the middle of his discussion of the gifts of the Spirit, Paul drops in the familiar “love chapter”—1 Corinthians 13. It is a lovely, even lyrical, treatment of a beautiful subject. The ending is familiar to all: “And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

In Acts 11, starting at verse 19 we read about a new church, formed out of persecution—Antioch. There is perhaps a partial fulfillment here of Jesus’s pronouncement, “Blessed are you when men persecute you…” If it were not for the persecution, this church wouldn’t have existed, and a lot of good would not have come about.

It’s one of the most familiar Sunday School lessons, and the subject of countless Bible classes and talks. You can tell it yourself, without looking. A storm on the Galilee lake, and Jesus came walking on the water.

What do you make of these verses from Proverbs? It is better to live in a corner of the housetop than in a house shared with a quarrelsome wife. (Proverbs 21:9) It is better to live in a desert land than with a quarrelsome and fretful woman. (Proverbs 21:19)

Jesus used a lot of agricultural metaphors. Many of his parables are built around seeds being planted, plants growing or failing to, trees producing or failing to, harvest, keeping sheep. Which is interesting, because Jesus wasn't a farmer. He lived in town, worked in building trades. Of course it was a small town, and agriculture would have been going on all around, so there's no question he would have had a lot of exposure to farming and the care of farm animals.

Depending on the reading plan you follow (you do follow one, I hope!), you may be reading in the Revelation. The first chapter tells us who is writing: John, at the behest of Jesus, with the authority of the Almighty. And it tells us who he's writing to: the seven churches of Asia. But none of us thinks the audience is limited to those folks. It's clearly from Jesus, through John, to all believers, then and thereafter.

Who's the audience for the Proverbs? Easy answer, right in the opening verses. It's addressed to the simple, the youth, the wise, the understanding. For the purpose of improving them all.

When a meal is supposed to be hot, it’s not nearly as appetizing if it’s allowed to get cold. Our Lord gave some serious warnings about the time right before his return—some of them concerning his own followers. Persecution will cause many to fall away and betray one another (Matthew 24:9-10). False prophets will lead many astray (verse 11). And, I suggest every bit as serious: “And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold” (verse 12).

All my life, there have been famines I’ve heard about. But never experienced. Food insecurity is something that can and does exist anywhere—and when we’re willing, we can and (sometimes) do find ways to help. But famine is something else, something beyond, hunger on a massive scale. So horrifying it staggers the imagination.

The longest public speeches of Jesus that we have on record have nicknames: The “Sermon on the Mount” is recorded in Matthew chapters 5 to 7. The “Sermon on the Plain” is in Luke 6:17-49. They are similar enough that on the surface they might seem to be different accounts of the same event.

As they’d agreed, they meet while it’s still dark. A few of them have brought what spices they’ve been able to locate. Quietly, they take the short walk out of the city to the cemetery. The moon is going down as the sunrise begins.

We are likely comfortable with the language of Hebrews 11, describing Abraham—and indeed all the faithful—as foreigners, aliens, unsettled travelers.

There can be no doubt that Psalm 45 is messianic. We would have figured it out anyway, but the use made of it in the New Testament clinches it. How would we have figured it out? Just look at how it begins: “My heart overflows with a pleasing theme; I address my verses to the king…” Who is the king? It can be none other than Messiah.

“O YHWH, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” Thus begins, and ends, Psalm 8—one of the loveliest passages in scripture. This psalm conveys the awe we all feel when we stop and pay attention to the power and the grace of the Almighty Creator. If we do. Stop, I mean, and pay attention. Something many of us aren’t all that good at.

What do we say when someone asks, “How are you?” Usually we reply, “Fine. You?”

Are we “fine”? Usually not. Something hurts, something is troubling, we have stresses, conflicts, worries.

We don’t want to dump all this on someone else, so…”I’m fine thanks. You?”

Sandwiched between the technical details of completing a Nazirite vow, and the details of the offerings for the consecration of the tabernacle, the Lord charges Aaron and his sons to pronounce a beautiful benediction on the people of Israel.

There is such clamor all around us. Shouting, shooting, looting, lying, demanding, demeaning, denouncing, destroying. Even those who bemoan such clamor are prone to joining it when it’s their issue at stake. There are many who clamor…ironically…for peace!