Saturday, June 29, 2013
Luke 13:22-30
Jesus is again traveling.
The gospel stories are not biographical in any way that we would recognize. It is difficult if not possible to construct a historical timeline for the life and ministry for the most famous man in history. Gospel means “good news” and that is what the gospels intend to proclaim, rather than biography. What we do catch glimpses of in the gospels, is of what seemed to have been a ministry lasting approximately three years. Jesus traveled a great deal, including into Samaria and sometimes back to his home territory. It seems likely that many of his parables and other teachings were repeated on frequent occasions. Sometimes, he may have varied his words or stories to fit a particular situation or audience or question.
As Jesus traveled, he became known. Word spread about what he did as well as about what he taught. On this occasion, someone may have heard stories about his parables showing amazing growth of God’s kingdom. Or the question could have arisen on its own. We certainly raise the same question today. Will many or all be saved eventually? Or will there only be a few who will be saved?
Some who ask the question of many or few are hoping that it will be few, and of course assuming that they know exactly who will be among the fortunate few. For some, there is an appeal in the idea of “heaven” (whatever you conceive it to be) as an exclusive country club. And there are people for whom exclusivity is exactly what makes it attractive...the idea that others have been excluded. It is easy then, to pat oneself on the back, feel superior, self-righteous, and judgmental.
Others who ask the question of many or few in today’s world find it difficult to picture a loving God excluding anyone. The idea of being saved while others are lost is distasteful. So the hope is that salvation is universal, even if God has to work on some souls for centuries to get them aboard. (There is, in Timothy, an implication that this is the plan).
Not surprisingly, Jesus’ answer is beautifully ambiguous. It is hard to know whether it is parable, or teaching and parable together. Some scholars believe that Luke could have collected a variety of teachings and combined them here in answer to a question that was asked both during the lifetime of Jesus, but also by the church in post-resurrection days. This could be possible (remembering that, again, the gospels were intended as vehicles of telling the good news rather than iolgraphy. But it is equally possible (in this writer’s opinion) that Jesus deliberately formed his anwer insuch a way. And, if the whole thing is a “parable, what is the point that arises out of it?
He begins with responding to the question of whether it’s many or few by not answering it directly at all. He says instead to ‘strive to enter through the narrow door, for many will try to enter and not b able. But then the image shifts to a closed door with someone standing outside and knocking, asking the Lord to open. But they are told that they are not known. The knocker insists they are known, that they ate and drank with the Lord, yet they are still turned away as evildoers. The Israelite listener to this would then have been shocked to hear that Abraham and the prophets and “you yourselves” will be thrown out, yet people will come from east and west, from north and south to eat in the kingdom of God.
Those who come from a distance, are they Jews who were dispersed throughout the known world? Or is Luke referring to Gentiles? There is no question that Luke was interested in telling about the inclusion of the Gentiles and could well have been referring to them. Or he could have been referring to the question of whether only the locally orthodox would be deemed acceptable rather than the greater number of Jewish people who were liberal in their theology and lifestyle. Either way, however, it becomes a parable about surprises. Those who pat themselves on the back and were sure of their inclusion (and enjoying the exclusion of others), find the way barred.
This is undeniably reminiscent of the parable of knocking at the door of the neighbor in the middle of the night, wherein persistence is proclaimed to be effective.
The final statement here is that wonderfully ambiguous statement that some who are first will be last and others who are last will be first. This is, again, a statement of surprise and reversal, yet it still leaves open the question of numbers. Will those put at the last eventually be included? Are they simply required to wait, learn some humility, keep knocking, and try?
If the entire response if in a sense, a "parable” then what is the point? Is it to puncture the pretensions? Jesus was certainly no stranger to that effort, for he contented often with self-rightousness and judgmental attitudes. Jesus could have been teaching persistence, no matter what. He could have been doing both, double meanings and layers of meaning being popular in that time.
In the end, modern response to Jesus’ words will depend, as it surely did in those days, whether exclusivity is valued or desired. It could, however, be also taken as a reminder that none of it is under the decision of humans. This is God’s domain and human assumptions, demands or biases will not hold. Jesus could have been suggesting people work as hard as they could, as though it is entirely up to them, but know that in the end it is God who will let people in, dependent upon divine grace.
What is your response to Jesus words?
Who would you assume to be among those acceptable and included?
What are the dangers of such assumptions?
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Luke 13:20
The parable of the leaven may also have had unexpected impact (as did the mustard seed story - last week). It is in many ways a parallel with that of the mustard seed. A woman takes leaven (yeast in many translations) and mixes or hides in a large quantity of flour until all of it was leavened.
Leavening of the modern type (baking powder or soda) was unknown. Nor did the baker of first century Israel have pure yeast such as the modern cook uses from the store. Yeast or leaven was a piece of old, fermented dough added to a fresh lump of dough to start the leavening process in it. (Frontier cooks often used a similar process, sometimes called sourdough. Laura Ingalls Wilder described her mother putting the scraps of dough into a jar of water to be added to the next batch of biscuit or bread makings.)
Yet, in the first century, leavening was not always a positive image. Paul twice spoke of a little yeast leavening the dough (Col 5:9; 1 Cor 5-7). But he was warning against what may have appeared to be a little something that was wrong growing amidst the Christians. Leavening, also, was to be completely removed from the home during Passover, in remembrance of the time that the Israelites had to leaven Egypt before their bread was leavened (and it baked hard in the sun, unleavened, unrisen.) Natural leavening begins almost immediately, whether or not something else is added. Natural organisms get wet and that begins the process. For unleavened bread to be “kosher” it must be baked less than twenty minutes after moisture has been added to the flour.
But Jesus here is not referring to yeast as a negative influence corrupting the whole. It is a parable of God’s kingdom.
Although modern translations often say mixed instead of hidden, scholars made much of the fact that the woman may have “hidden” the leaven. Three measures of flour would have been a huge amount, enough to feed 150 people. If she hid it, she unintentionally ended up with a considerable amount of bread dough. There was likely some humor intended here. The humor is also apparent in the fact that the growth of the kingdom is portrayed as powerful and unstoppable. Small beginnings can eventually change the character of the whole. After all, who’d have believed that a small number of socially, economically and intellectually unimportant men and women, following a crucified leader, would help change the world?
Finally, it is impossible not to note the fact that Jesus is using an image from a woman's point of view. He did the same with the parable of the lost sheep - and the woman searching for a lost coin. We can only imagine, but do imagine the impact upon his female listeners who were probably accustomed to having their world, their value and their presence be devalued. What did this say to them?
What is the character of hope in this parable?
What image in today’s world might have some of the same meaning?
What new and powerful movement can be discerned today?
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Will post tomorrow!
Sorry - today's post will probably be done tomorrow. Have been out of town a good part of the week and need some hours to get things together. Take care and blessings!
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Luke 13:18-19
Now Jesus tells a parable. He compared the kingdom of God to a mustard seed. A mustard seed could be sown in the garden until it grew into a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches.
A mustard seed has become the familiar image of something that begins small and grows into large. Even more familiar is probably Jesus’ comment that faith, even the size of a mustard seed, can move mountains.
But in this particular case, Jesus is talking about the kingdom of God. Now, the kingdom is difficult to strictly define. At various times it appears to be something small, other times large, sometime it appears future related and still other time something that is present. The kingdom of God is within and among us.
Scholars have devoted extensive studies to what it means to define the kingdom of God. Yet Jesus didn’t define it, just accepted it as a dynamic reality that is both present and becoming; it is under the authority of God, yet humans, creations of God, are granted responsibilities in helping build up the kingdom; it is alive in the midst of creation, yet also beyond the life known by humanity.
Jesus didn’t define and therefore limit the understanding of God’s kingdom. And the parable of the mustard seed seems to contain a wry humor that is often lost on people today. Scholars point out that the description of mustard as becoming a tree is an exaggeration. It can grow into a mighty plant, some eight to nine feet high, but it is highly unlikely that birds would ever nest in a mustard plant. They do grow large, but are not trees and will die back after a season, though casting their seeds to grow into new plants. Mustard grows wild and in some cases is regarded as pest rather than a desirable plant.
Some Mustard Seed Extras:
The mustard seed and its aroma and flavor has been popular for thousands of years. The condiment is made from the crushed seeds of the plant. At first they were mixed with vinegar, but in the Middle Ages it was replaced with something called grape must, which is where it got the name we know today of mustard. Grape must was simply the juice from the grape. (Mustard – native to Europe and South-eastern Asia; grown in temperate regions. Well known since days of ancient Greece as a condiment and for medicinal uses; frequently referred to in the New Testament and Greek and Roman writings;. (Collins, Mary, Spices of the World Cookbook by McCormick, U.S.A.: produced for McCormick by Penguin Books, 1964), p. 36. As the Greek and Roman Colonizers spread their civilizations throughout Europe, they took their knowledge of spices with them. It is on record, for example, that the first mustard seed were brought to England by Roman soldiers in 50 b.c.
The parable of the mustard seed was likely intended by Jesus to have echoes in the scriptures of his people. Nebuchadnezzar dreams of being a great tree with the birds of the air nesting in its branches. Ezekiel’s oracle (17:22-23) is an even more specific reference. Yet these older images refer to the kingdom as a great cedar, while Jesus describes it as a mustard. One scholar says that the mustard seed is a parable of the kingdom’s beginnings, but not of its final manifestation. The ministry of Jesus, although with amazing events, was more like a mustard seed, though people expected a full grown cedar.
Scholars tend to downplay the final result, taking literally what grows from a mustard seed. But is it possible that Jesus was including a little humor here? The mustard seed is small, an inauspicious beginning, but Jesus pictures it growing into something entirely unexpected - a great tree that can give refuge in its branches. In other words, the kingdom of God will grow into something quite surprising by human standards, understanding or expectations.
The coming of the birds to next in the branches has been interpreted by some to be a reference to the Gentiles who would be welcomed into the church. If Jesus is echoing the images of Hebrew scriptures, this would seem unlikely. The older references are about peace, security and refuge. Yet the Gentiles also found this in the church, just as many who were Israelites did. Luke did have a strong interest in the Gentiles (he may have been one himself) coming into the church. And a later parable (Luke 13:29) will refer to the fact that “people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God.” Double meanings were popular in the ancient Near East, so it is not impossible that Jesus saw a vision of the gentiles being among those who would come to nest in the kingdom of God. Given the fact that he was speaking to an orthodox Israelite audience, this could even be one of the extremely unexpected things that would grow from the mustard seed.
Again, from human expectations, something grows, or should grow, by increments. Therefore, if Jesus announced the small beginnings of the kingdom as a mustard seed, then two thousand years later, it must surely be larger. But that would ignore the fact that Jesus announced the kingdom for individuals, groups, for creation itself. It is always in the process of becoming. Its growth may or may not be visible to the human perception. Its manifestation may not be what human standards expect.
Do you use or think of the imagery of the kingdom of God?
What does it mean to you?
Do you have expectations about God’s kingdom?
Are your expectations limiting your perception of the kingdom’s presence?
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Luke 13:6-17
It is probably only the hellfire and brimstone Christians who are fond of the image Jesus uses here. He tells a story of a man with a fig tree that doesn’t bear fruit. He tells the man taking care of things, the vine dresser, to cut it down. After all, the tree is drawing nutrients from the soil without giving anything back. Here we would ignore the modern understanding that a plant of any kind, even without fruit, is adding oxygen to the air. The fig tree, like any fruit tree, is planted for the purpose of bearing fruit. But the vinedresser disagreed with the man who wanted to cut down the tree. At least give it another year while the vinedresser digs around it and gives it fertilizer. If that doesn’t help, then it could be cut down.
For some, the image will inevitably be ominous. The ax is waiting. If things don’t change in a hurry, the axe will fall. But the story is also about hope. True, no fruit is in evidence, but give the tree another chance. Give it help and support, don’t just discard it.
As with all parables, the different parts of the story should not be turned into metaphors and symbols. For example, we should resist trying to invest identity in the land owner or the vinedresser, such as trying to make one into a judging God and the other into Christ. God and Jesus are one in a way that defies human imagination. And God wants God’s children to succeed and bear spiritual fruit. God has given not one but many new opportunities. God has much more in common with vinedresser, or the father in the parable of the prodigal son than with the landowner who wants to cut the tree down.
Nonetheless, the story can serve as a reminder that humans are called to a purpose and we are missing out on the best of life when we fail to live up to that calling.
Luke follows this parable with an account about one day when Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues. A woman was there who was crippled, bent over so severely that she couldn’t stand straight. With no other explanation, it was described as a spirit that had crippled her. From a modern point of view it sound like severe arthritis or some other degenerative condition such as multiple sclerosis. When Jesus saw her, he called her over, laid hands on her and proclaimed her free of her disease. Right off she straightened up and began praising God.
On the side, this woman exemplifies faith in the midst of disease. In the first place, she remained faithful (she was at the synagogue) despite her years of pain and disablement. When she is healed, no matter what the means, she praises God. God must have smiled joyfully when he looked at this spiritual woman who was now healed.
But there were others there that day, others who thought the rules were more important than people. The Sabbath was a day for rest, and the orthodox understanding of that could be quite rigid. Jesus had violated this by actually healing on the Sabbath. The leader of the synagogue was indignant with Jesus. He may have been also fearful that the day would turn into a madhouse of people seeking healing. So he told the congregation that there were six working days to come. They should come and be healed on one of them, not on the Sabbath.
Imagine what the poor woman felt at that point. Though she hadn’t even initiated the healing, it must have seemed as if the leader of the synagogue was pointing a finger of judgment at here as much or more than at Jesus.
Jesus was obviously frustrated and angry. Here this faithful woman had been healed and was doing nothing except praising God...what more appropriate thing could take place on a Sabbath? But the leaders couldn’t rejoice with her. There was obviously more than the one who was objecting because Jesus’ response was about ‘you hypocrites.’ Those pious men would give their ox or donkey water on the Sabbath, but resented the healing of this daughter of Abraham.
The opponents of the healing were put to shame (other translations say confused or humiliated). But the rest of the crowd was delighted at his words.
To us, it may seem a no-brainer- the woman was crippled, Jesus had the ability to heal her, so why shouldn’t he do so at the earliest opportunity? But this shouldn’t be taken to think Jesus didn’t respect the rules and customs of the Jewish people. He would even say that he hadn’t come to change the smallest part of them. But it was a time when the rules had been codified, inflated, and expanded to such an extent that no one without ample time and money could observe them all. It was understandable. When people feel under siege, they take control in whatever way they can. With the Romans occupying their country and security and life being uncertain, for some people, the rules may have operated as one of the few things under their control and authority. Although Jesus may have understood their motives, he himself never forgot that the rules God wanted humans to follow were for their benefit. It was good and important to have a day of rest, a day to think about God and order one’s life in the right direction. But the rule wasn’t meant to be kept for its own sake. The woman had been ill for eighteen years, what better time to heal her than the Sabbath?
Do we have our own rules or customs (individually or as the church)? Are we offended when someone else breaks them?
What fruit are we bearing?
Where do we need second chances?
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Luke 13:1-5
Then some people came who told Jesus about some Galileans who had been killed by Pilate while they had been offering sacrifices to God.
This is the only place in the gospels where this story is told about Pilate and the murdered Galileans. And this event is not recorded in Roman or any other historical records. That doesn’t mean that it did or didn’t occur, only that no one else wrote it down. Pilate himself is not found in roman historical records, only in the histories of the Jewish people. Historians do tell us that it was not an unlikely occurrence. Pilate was not known to be a lover of the Jewish people and could well have found a reason to have ordered a killing. One commentator on the passage, however, points out that this is the kind of story that oppressed people often told, sometimes growing each time it was repeated and passed on.
It is hard to say what were the motives of the people who told the story to Jesus. They might have hoped Jesus was a Zealot (he did number them among his followers) who wanted to fight and over throw the Romans. They may have simply wanted to share the grievance of oppression.
Jesus did an interesting thing with this story. He asked if they thought the Galileans had been more guilty or worse sinners than other Galileans. He answered his own question. No, if they didn’t turn from their own sins, they would die also.
In a general sense, as the Cambridge Bible Commentary discusses on this passage, it is easy for some to believe that misfortune comes to others because they somehow deserve it, that others are more sinful than we are. Jesus didn’t seem to think that misfortune was a punishment. In fact, he said that the rain falls on the just and the unjust, which seems to contradict the concept of worldly problems being directed by God to punish us for our misdeeds. He further recognized that people could actually be persecuted because of their righteousness or their faith. In responding as he did, Jesus may also have been contemplating the coming violence and fall of Jerusalem. It wouldn’t happen for decades, but Jesus clearly understood the path his people were taking, and the power of Rome which they would not be able to defeat.
Beyond all this is another truth. When people are oppressed, it is tempting to consider the enemy as the sinful one and the oppressed as righteous. Too often, “blessed are the poor” has been taken that way, as though poverty by its very nature and the suffering it inflicts makes the poor into the good side, with the rich as the sinful evil side. Yet the poor can be as obsessed with money as the rich, and the poor can be just as sinful while the rich can uphold goodness.
The people of Israel weren’t automatically good simply because Rome was oppressing them. Israel wasn’t righteous simply because it was suffering. Another thing to consider--of the oppressed don’t look to their own faults and sins, when they get power they often turn out to be as bad or worse than the original set of oppressors. A study of history tells us this. Victims often become victimizers.
As one scholar points out, Jesus was taking the hard road of calling the oppressed and downtrodden to recognize and repent of their own sinfulness.
Jesus further drove his point home by referring to an architectural disaster, when the tower of Siloam fell and a large number were killed. The first story was one of a tyrant killing people by choice. The second was the story of an accident. Were those 18 people being punished for their sins? Jesus says clearly that they were no more sinful than others who were not killed. Everyone is in need of repentance.
Repentance may not be the favorite topic of the modern world. Yet even psychiatry has been described as helping to free people from the tyranny of their past. Repentance means being sorry for wrong doing, and changing direction so that the individual seeks to live in such a way that the mistakes are not repeated. It means accepting forgiveness so that the individual is free for an improved life.
Another aspect of the story is that the people who carried that story to Jesus may have been wanting confirmation of their goodness and therefore of their safety. One of the things when misfortune occurs is that people sometimes start looking for “why.” Interestingly enough, one path this takes is to try and assign blame to the victim. They made an error driving and therefore had an accident. They didn’t take care of their health, that’s why they’re sick. While this can be the explanation, it can be very disturbing to some people when they learn that something happened without the fault of the victim. What that means is that life isn’t in the control of humans; it means that we can’t be smart enough, good enough or skillful enough to avoid all problems. That sense of powerlessness can be terrifying. So some who suffer misfortune are further afflicted by well-meaning “friends” who try to assign blame.
How tempting is it to emphasize the mistakes or sins of others, but find reasons to accept our own?
What tyranny of the past do you struggle with?
What would you say to someone who wonders if they can be free?
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