Luke 7:18-35 A Thought from Tom
Here are a few insights from Tom (N.T.) Wright about this text.
Pull a coin out of your pocket and look at it. What does it tell you?
I don’t mean, how rich does it say you are. Nor am I thinking about the actual words that are engraved on it. I’m referring to the pictures, the symbols.
The last two countries I visited before writing this were Greece and the United States; as usual, some of their coins came home with me. The Greek ones have pictures of ancient heroes: Alexander the Great on a 100-drachma coin, Democritus the philosopher on a 10-drachma one. On the other side they have symbols: the sun with its bright rays on the first, the sun and the solar system on the other. The American coins have heroes, too, though not quite so old: Abraham Lincoln on one, George Washington on another. And the symbols, for those who bother to look at them, are powerful too: Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s home in Virginia, on the back of the 1-cent piece) the great eagle on the quarter, and so on.
Now imagine that you had never seen a book, a newspaper, a photograph or even a stained-glass window. The only pictures you would know would be occasional paintings, carvings, mosaic floors (if you were, or worked for, someone very rich) – and coins. And coins were the only ones you would see regularly. They were the only mass medium in the ancient world. They were the principal way of getting across a symbolic message to ordinary people. For Jews, who (at least in theory) weren’t allowed to make pictures of human beings, the choice of symbols for coins was very important indeed.
When Herod Antipas chose the symbols for his coins, just a few years before the time of Jesus’ public ministry, his favouritc was a typical Galilean reed. You would see whole beds of them swaying in the breeze by the shores of the sea of Galilee. A reed would symbolize the beauty and fertility of that area.
‘What did you go out to see?’asked Jesus to the crowds who had gone to be baptized by John, and were now following him. ‘A reed swaying in the breeze?’ They would have got the message. Were you looking for a new king – another one like old so-and-so up the road? If they missed the point, the next line brought it closer home. Were you looking for someone wearing the latest splendid fashions? If so, you were looking in the wrong place: the royal palace is the place for luxurious clothes. Well then, what were you looking for? A prophet! Yes indeed, but something more than just ‘a’ prophet. This was a special prophet indeed. This was the Advance Guard, the Preparer.
This whole long passage, the discussion between Jesus and John’s messengers, and then Jesus’ cryptic comments to the crowd, highlight one question in particular: who does Jesus think he is? To talk about Herod on the one hand, even by implication, and to talk about John on the other, arc ways of talking about the figure who stands in between them. Is Jesus just a powerful prophet? Is he the new king, God’s anointed, destined to replace Herod? Or what is he?
John, in prison, was clearly puzzled. Jesus wasn’t doing what he had expected. If Jesus really was the Messiah, why wasn’t he establishing the sort of messianic kingdom John wanted – presumably including liberation for prisoners like himself Jesus is far too astute, with listening ears all around, to say openly, ‘Yes, I’m the Messiah’. We hear a few chapters later that Herod wanted to kill him (13:31), and a clear statement would have been an unnecessary risk. Instead, he heals all sorts of people before the eyes of the messengers, and suggests that they draw their conclusions – with a helping shove in the right direction provided by the quotation of various passages of Isaiah. (Some Jews already saw this sort of list as a prediction of what the Messiah would do when he came; one such list occurs in an ancient scroll found in Qumran.) This is the kind of Messiah Jesus intends to be: not a straightforward rival to Herod (though his kingdom will eventually challenge and outlast all the Herods
in the world), but a kingdom operating in a different mode altogether, healing people and the world at every level.
But if Jesus is a different sort of king, John is a different sort of prophet. He isn’t just one prophet among many. He is the one spoken of by Malachi, the one whose task is to prepare the way for the coming Lord. In Malachi 3:1, the messenger clears the path for the Master to come to the Temple and cleanse of all unholiness, to bring God’s judgement and mercy to bear on Israel as a whole. And in this passage the Master in question doesn’t seem to be simply the Messiah; he is YHWH hims( Israel’s God in person. That, we may suppose, is why (thou initially it sounds surprising) the least in God’s kingdom greater than John. The least of those who belong to the new movement initiated by Jesus is greater than the greatest in who was ever born up to that time. This is a strong claim indeed, though still too indirect for anyone to take it back a hostile report to Herod. Those who sat down and chewed it over, though, would realize what was being said. Those who didn’t would still look and look but never see the point.
Many of Jesus’ contemporaries were like that: complain’ that John was too austere, complaining in the next breath that Jesus was too much the life and soul of the party. But wisdom will out, and those who had understood what was going on would see that this was how it had to be.
People today still judge Jesus by their expectations, instead of pausing and probing into the evidence to see what was really going on. They do the same, often enough, with Jesus’ followers – criticizing some for being too strict, others for being too soft, some for being too intellectual, others for being down-to-earth. Yet wisdom can still be glimpsed by those with eyes to see. Following the Messiah who is different to what we imagined is always demanding; but this is the only way to the kingdom of God.
I told you it was good.
-Ethan
Luke 7:18-35 A SideNote
Tom Wright (N.T.) has a wonderful little thing on this text that I plan to scan in and share with everyone. But until then I will comment on one little sub point.
C.S. Lewis uses this text to talk about temperance. (Or at least that part at the end about eating and drinking etc.) He reminds his reader that temperance is not abstinence but moderation. In particular he responds to the “temperance movement” of his day which focused on abstinence from drinking. He acknowledges that wisdom and temperance may often requires abstinence for some specific reason, but it is not itself synonymous with abstinence.
This gets me thinking. I think that God’s people (both Israel and the church today) have trouble with moderation and radicality. There is an old proverb “Moderation in all things.” I analyzed this proverb in a logic class once. There is a name for this kind of sentence. It is a sentence that if true proves itself false. (You identify these kinds of sentences by following the classical deduction strategy “reductio ad absurdum” or proof by contradiction.)
follow me. If it is true that we should practice moderation in all things, then we must in fact practice moderation in moderation, which would mean that we shouldn’t do it all the time for to do it all the time would be immoderate. This contradicts the beginning sentence which we assumed to be true, so we have a contradiction.
So we must have been wrong to assume that “moderation in all things” is a true axiom. Now proof by contradiction is nice because it is logically unassailable. But in this case it might have been easier to just list a few things that we should not be moderate about. We should not be moderate in love for God. We should not be moderate in our love of neighbor. We should not be moderate in our hatred for the Yankees. You get the idea.
So there are some things about which we should be moderate and some about which we should be immoderate (or radical which despite its political overtones, is a rather good antonym for moderate). The problem that we face it seems to be is two fold. One we are usually radical in the areas where we should be moderate and in my experience we are almost always moderate in the areas in which we should be radical.
I think that it probably is a good axiom to suggest that we should be moderate in most things, and so it seems to me that the inquiry that Christians heed to pursue in every area of Christian life, is always, is this an area in which radicality is appropriate. to the temperance movement of the early 20th century, Lewis cautions, no this is not an area for radicality. I would agree with him.
So the first area of caution is to remember that God’s people have usually been wrong about when to be moderate and when to be radical. The second area of caution is that even when we have chosen to be radical, life is usually complex enough that within the arena of radicality, we must exercise moderation. Suppose I were radically committed to disciple making and evangelism. Then I would need to exercise moderation between the demands , preaching, and study, and soul care, and conversion, and deepening, and modeling and sending, etc. Suppose I were committed to radical generosity. Then I would need to practice moderation of lifestyle to consume few resources, and or assets so that I would continue to earn so that I might continue to give etc. Even in radicality moderation is necessary.
So all in all I think that temperance is a virtue that Christians need to recapture and value. For too long we have ignored temperance as the weaker brother to exuberance. I think that perhaps we misjudged.
I know this is only loosely connected to the text, but I will let Wright pull us back as soon as I get to a scanner.
-Ethan
Luke 7:11-17 Locals and Compassion
Okay, so lets notice one thing off the top. There is no mention of faith in this text. In the last text we saw the amazing and confident faith of the centurion and were reminded that Jesus is establishing new criteria for belonging. In this text there is no mention of faith at all. This event seems to be driven purely by the compassion of Jesus.
So what do we learn from this story. I take it as a given that during this time there were other widows who lost sons. So Jesus certainly isn’t working to eliminate such tragedy on a global or even regional scale. So why this healing. His help is not requested, he is not sought out, he does not ask them about their faith.
Let’s start with an easier question. What function does this story serve in the narrative. For starters it clarifies that although Jesus is broadening his interest beyond the Jews, he has not forgotten Jews. If we have this impression it would not be without reason, and this story clarifies that just because Jesus cares about people we expect him to disdain, he has not forgotten to care for people we expect him to care about. (Of course she certainly meets the poor and oppressed category.)
In fact there is an important contrast between the recipients of these two healings. The centurion is a Roman, man, wealthy, powerful, unclean, enemy of Israel (although this one apparently is nicer than most). The widow, is a woman, poor (especially due to ancient property laws that would have taken her property upon her sons death) Jewish, and other such nice things.
Secondly, this story prepares us for the arrival of John’s messengers. We will see that in the next section. As a side note, it also introduces the notion of resurrection, and displays Jesus compassion.
So if it is rather straightforward to see why Luke would include this story in his narrative and how it forms a foil to the healing of the centurion’s servant and a bridge to the encounter with John’s servant, it is perhaps less straightforward to see how this healing fits in Jesus ministry. For the reasons I mentioned above and more, it is hard to see how this ministry fits into Jesus ministry plan. It does not focus on faith, it does not broaden the kingdom, it is not used as a sign.
I find myself forced to include that we find in this story a remarkably simple healing. It seems that Jesus came upon a scene of tragedy and his heart was moved and he acted. I find in this story a wonderful principle. To be purpose driven, missional, and vision oriented, is wonderful, but we cannot become those who are so driven that our heart can no longer break. I suppose there is a balance to be achieved, but this story lines up with the Good Samaritan to reminds me that when I am too busy to respond to the needs I meet, I am too busy.
-Ethan
Luke 7:1-10 Foreigners and Faith
This is a healing story of course. It shows the power of Jesus over the world and how that power is expressed in just just cosmic but also personal ways. So lets assume that we all recognize that.
I notice two other things. This story serves an important narrative function for Luke. We have already seen that Jesus has an agenda that is larger than the nation of Israel. Here the elders come thinking they will need to convince Jesus that he should heal a non-Jew. Of course we know that Jesus is all about this. There is a name for this literary device when the readers know more than the characters. I forget what it is called. But anyway, the ignorance of the elders reminds us as readers of what we know.
Then at the end of he story, we see that Jesus takes this opportunity to re-clarify that the old criteria for inclusion has been abandoned, and we see the growing suggestion that faith is the new criteria for inclusion. In that sense, Jesus is suggesting that the blunt and abrupt faith of this man is a model for people. He is not on the edge of the new kingdom as the elders imagine. He is at the center.
That is a radical new thing.
Some of these implications carry over into the next pericope. So we will talk about them more.
See you soon,
-Ethan