Want to be Left Behind? You Should! (Matthew 24)

January 21, 2026

I challenged myself yesterday: whatever the reading in the lectionary tomorrow, I will write a blog post about it. The reading was the second half of Matthew 24. So here goes…

"Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left." (Mat 24:40)

I wonder where you’ve heard these words before. It wasn’t till I lived in the States that I realised how associated they are with some ideas about the end of the world and what is popularly known as ‘rapture theory.’ This theory has lots of details to it, but one fundamental premise is that it claims that this verse points to how Jesus will return and rescue his faithful followers from the suffering on earth. “One will be taken, one will remain.”

According to rapture theory, you want to be taken. You don’t want to be left behind. The problem is, the reverse is really the point. Jesus isn’t going to abandon the world. He loves it! He’s going to redeem it. Out of the two options, it's those who are taken who are receiving judgement.[1]

The question is: do we want to be part of that?

Jesus then tells a parable of two slaves who are left in charge while their Master is gone. One responds well and does the work he’s been charged to do. He seeks to feed the other slaves and give everyone their fair share. He serves those around him (v.45-46).[2] The other one? Not so much. Notice what it says in v.49: he begins to beat his fellow slaves. His peers. He indulges his stomach with whatever he likes. He cares only about himself. In sum:

Abandoning the Master looks like taking to violence and excess against people around us. Following our own desires and getting what we want, at the cost of those around us.

Being ready for the Master looks like caring more about those around us than we do our own ambitions and appetites. It means humbling ourselves and showing up for our neighbour. This is the call on those of us who call ourselves Christian. To be the ones our Lord commends and not condemns mean we do this work today.

***

The world is not an easy place to be these days. One of the reasons my blog has been quite quiet this month is because of that. As a child, I thought any adult who wanted to could change the whole world for the better. As an adult, I know I can’t.

But I can make changes to my corner of it. I can take stock of my own life, my own choices, my own faith (or lack of it). I can identify whether I am more like the faithful slave or more like the rebellious one. The truth is we all have the propensity to both, but by the grace shown in the Cross and the presence of the Holy Spirit, we can become servants of God who love our neighbours sacrificially. I can love my neighbour—even when they're my enemy—and meet their needs instead of shunning them and seeking to satisfy number one.

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' ⁴⁴ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵ so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. ⁴⁶ For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? ⁴⁷ And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?"

(Mat 5:43-47)

This is the call of every Christian. This is the charge we have been given, regardless of what is going on around us, until the day our one Lord and Master returns.

******

[1] To be transparent: I suspect this passage is more about God's judgement on Jerusalem in 70AD than it is a picture of eschatological judgement, but my application of it still stands as there is a persistent pattern to God's judgement and his call to those who follow him.

[2] English translations obscure the Greek here, which clearly ties the faithful slave’s behaviour to the actions of the one who will be placed in charge on the Master’s return. The NASB captures this best.

Cover photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash

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A Thought About Resurrection

By Suse McBay • July 28, 2026

Let me start by asking a question: if someone came up to you and asked what's the benefit or blessing of being a Christian, what would you include in your answer? There's the things we might know to say from Sunday School: Jesus loves me, died for me, so I can be forgiven and free. Or something like that. Would it naturally come to your lips to say this: The gift of my faith is that no matter how hard life gets, no matter the sorrow or suffering that comes my way, I am reassured and strengthened by the confidence that God does not ignore the unjust lives or deaths of those who stick close to Him? *** This summer I’m taking some time to look at Daniel 11-12 and Book 4 of the Jewish poetic writings I research, the Sibylline Oracles . This post is an observation and an out-loud thought from some of my reading. Again and again, both in Daniel, the Sibyllines, an array of other Jewish literature, and the gospels (as well as elsewhere in the NT—e.g. Mark 8:38-9:1, 10:29-31, John 11:25, 1 Cor 15:16-19, 2 Corinthians 4), resurrection and the post-mortem life appears as an encouragement and response to the problem of human suffering. Not a rationale or justification. It’s not an answer to the question of ‘why does God allow suffering’ in any overt sense. But an end to the story of God’s peoples that shapes how the present might be lived. When I was very young, I thought resurrection was more-or-less a get of jail free card for the crucifixion. Jesus died on a cross to deal with sin and death. But if he isn't raised it's all pointless: so God has to raise him. Resurrection as an after thought, if you will. But resurrection isn't an epilogue. It's the victory. Without it the whole story is pointless. It's a real, substantial, material hope. *** Life is hard work. Life does not always go our way. Even when it does, that way isn't usually what we really wanted anyway! There's the normal hard stuff of life: work, family, friendships, health and so on. Then there's the hard stuff of following God. We are given so much goodness in the gospel: a relationship with God for starters! But also forgiveness, healing, reconciled relationships, a change and liberation of priorities, freedom and new life. All such wonderful and good things. Yet they are all a foretaste. Reconciliation doesn't always happen. We might have an interior freedom but experience hardship after hardship externally. I've been reading the diaries of Etty Hillesum who expereinced just that. She was a young Jewish woman in the 1940s. She experienced such a bliss and joy because of her faith and spirituality that found contentment even in life in a concentration camp. Yet her life ended at the tender age of 29. So much life left to live, so much potential unrealised. *** Resurrection is a reminder and encouragement that our real hope and the true fulfilment of the gospel isn't in the here and now (it begins now, but as a foretaste of what's to come). We aren't to expect ' everything will go my way ' in this life or that I should experience the perennial blessing of God in my earthly life and relationships. Following God will not be easy. The things He calls us to do may not succeed. The people we love may not love us back. The person we pray for may never come to faith. The change we want to see manifest in the world around us may not happen in this life. But resurrection says this: God has not forgotten. God sees it all. God will set right. Unjust deaths will be dealt with. Unfair hardship will be set straight. This life is not all there is. There is so much more to come, that all of this--even the heart-breaking stuff—will pale in significance in comparison. Yes, that doesn't stop it hurting in the present moment. It doesn't stop grief or stem the tide of darkness today. But it allows us to let go. Surrender. Trust. None of this has to be fixed now. We do what we can. But the outcome of it all is not one realised in this life, but the next. So take courage. There is more to come. ******

A Scottish Scandal & the Gift of Healthy Shame

By Suse McBay • June 24, 2026

Peter Murrell, a Scottish political worker and now ex-husband of Nicola Sturgeon (former SNP party leader), was this week sentenced to 5 years in prison for embezzlement. Over the years he had used party money to buy all manner of things. It began with a Play Station 3 but escalated, to buying silver wine coaster, a Jaguar, and a motor home (the list goes on and on). Now embezzlement is not new. Nor is using political office for personal gain. But what struck me were the comments from the lawyer following the sentencing: “ The accused is now an individual overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment and shame .” Shame. We don’t know if it’s true or not, but I wonder how you respond to hearing such contrition? Responses can range from the judgemental (“ Good! He deserves it ”) to the overly sympathetic (“ Perhaps he’s learned his lesson ”). But regardless of where we individually fall on the sympathy scale, it was an interesting example of what I’ve been thinking about recently: healthy shame . Mr Murrell has undeniably done something wrong and has betrayed the office given to him. He’s estranged from his wife. He’s headed to prison. He was there to represent the people, but instead, he has preyed on the sheep (Ezek. 34:2 has things to say about this). That uncomfortable feeling of recognising where we have transgressed our limits and have become hoodwinked by our own hubris and entitlement. His inadequacies have been publicly exposed. His dirty laundry is out in public. We may be more accustomed to scandal given the internet age, so we may be desensitised to it, but I bet Peter Murrell is not. When it happens to you, it’s painful. It’s uncomfortable. It’s exposing. I’m no psychologist, so I’d recommend John Bradshaw’s book on Healing the Shame That Binds You , if you want to think more about it. Dan Allender and Tremper Longman have a good Christian reflection on different emotions in Cry of the Soul. But I’ve been noticing where healthy shame appears in Scripture. Shame crops up again and again and again. I’m still in the early stages of thinking about where it appears and why, but one clear example of where it occurs is in scenes of divine judgement, both those in the present and those yet to come. God’s People Exposed (1) Daniel 12:1-4 talks about how Jewish believers in the 2 nd century BCE would be raised. The wise and understanding ones who didn’t comply with the political schemes of Antiochus IV would be raised to shine like stars. The others? Those who had aligned themselves with the emperor and in the process forsaken their covenant loyalty to God? They would be faced with everlasting shame (and contempt). (2) Jeremiah 2 has strong words for God’s people of Israel who have got so wrapped up in themselves they have stopped seeking where God is at work and instead are playing with other idols under the illusion of thinking they’re faithful because they keep the Law. They even say they don’t run after false gods (v.23). They’ve tried to seek out gain from the political powers (v.18) rather than humbly submit themselves to God (v.20). The result? They will be put to shame by Egypt (v.36). In an eerily similar statement to the news from Scotland: “As a thief is shamed when caught, So the house of Israel shall be shamed: They, their kings, their officials, Their priests, and their prophets.” (Jer 2:26) And the same is true in the New Testament. Mark 8:38 says this: "Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels." I suspect these are words for people who don’t listen to Jesus’ words in the preceding lines: the message that to follow Jesus is to take up your cross, deny yourself. Surrender your own wants and desires. Those who, like Peter, wanted to avoid death. Avoid suffering. Avoid hardship. Those who wanted a Messiah that came on a horse not a donkey. One who wore a crown of gold, not one of thorns. ** So what a bout us? How do we avoid that fate? Well, like a bill that if you don’t pay now you’ll be paying a lot more later, we need to start facing our inner shame today. Both the healthy shame and the shame we’ve been given that doesn’t belong to us. We might take some time to pray, be still, listen. See what comes up when we think about our uncomfortable feelings that usually stay in the shadows. The great gift of shame is that it shows us our limits. Where we’ve crossed the line and harmed ourselves, others, and our relationship with God. Where we’ve tried to be more than human (or acted in fear that we’re less than human). But shame also dies on exposure. Though I’d also add that shame dies on exposure in the presence of a loving other. We find a person or a group where we can start doing the crazy thing and actually revealing our shameful selves to others. Peter Murrell is full of shame, his lawyer says. The question is: what will he do with it? Will he use this public humiliation to face himself as he is? Does he have people around him to listen to him and to help him through it? I hope so. Genuinely. I hope that for all of us. That we would have the courage to allow the One who is Light to bring light into the midst of our shame today. To bring us out of hiding. Shame is a horrible feeling: I’m not a fan. But I do know that on the other side is acceptance, serenity, and a joy that really does make it worth it. It is true freedom—and it’s only in that freedom I can become who God has made me to be. Because whatever I’ve done, however humiliating, the deepest truth of all is that I’m made in the image of God. I am loved. ****** Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash