The Blurring of Lines [Matthew 13.24-30] (21 July 2002)

For the associated PowerPoint presentation click here.

Just recently Prayerna began liking the botanical characters in Veggie Tales. I know probably more Veggie Tales’ songs than I care to confess to. However, the lyrics of one song have struck me as quite interesting. Here’s a snippet. “If your friends tell you that you gotta be cool/ Remember what you learned in church and Sunday school/ Just check it out/ The bible tells us what it’s all about.” The implicit assumption is that the bible recommends one kind of behavior and that we happen to know exactly what that kind of behavior is. If we dig further, we could say that there is the assumption not only that there is one kind of behavior, but one set of beliefs.

How comforting! We all like to be assured that issues of life and death are black and white. After all, if the song can claim black and white status for behavior that is trivial for the most part, certainly the bible will tell us in clear cut terms what behaviors and beliefs to adopt for issues of eternal consequences.

So let us see what the bible says about such things. Turn with me to Matthew 13.24-30.

Let us set the parable in context. The Gospel of Matthew contains five long sections of teaching initiated by Jesus. That is, these are teachings given not in response to a query or claim made by someone else. The first is the Sermon on the Mount in chapters five to seven. The second is the so-called mission discourse in chapter 10. The third is the series of parables of the kingdom of God in chapter 13. The fourth is the teaching on church discipline in chapter 18. Finally, in chapters 24 and 25, Jesus teaches about the coming of the Kingdom of God. The parable we are dealing with is in the third of the speeches. The parable is the second in a series of seven parables.

Before going on to the parable, we must consider three things that are essential to the interpretation of parables. First, we must treat each parable on its own terms, without merging it with other parables. For example, in the first parable, humans are compared to various kinds of soils. In our parable, we are different kinds of seed. In the third parable, suddenly, we are birds nesting in a tree!

Second, we need to remember that a parable is not an allegory. An allegory is a story in which each element represents something in real life. For example, John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress is an allegory. In an allegory, the characters are clearly defined. We know, for example, that Evangelist evangelizes. That is all he does. Obstinate refuses to believe anything, while Pliable believes everything. In other words, in an allegory, the characters are one-dimensional.

In a parable, on the other hand, the characters are true to life. C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia are examples of parables. One of the children, Susan ends up not believing, while Emeth, an opponent of Aslan, ends up in Aslan’s kingdom. Because of this fluidity, the purpose or meaning of a parable does not lie in identifying one-to-one correspondence between its elements and real life.

This gets us to the third point. The meaning of the parable lies in our identifying with a character in the parable. I know this is a little vague. So let me use our parable as an example.

In the parable, Jesus describes a common scenario in first century peasant life—a family feud. The enemy of the main character tries to subvert his plans by scattering weeds into the field.

This reminds me of chicken rice. Not only is that the name of a Singaporean delicacy, but also the title of a movie that Pauline and Simon had Alice and me watch with them. The story in the movie involves two feuding families, both of which happen to run stalls selling the delectable chicken rice. However, both stalls are in the same food court. This comes to the notice of the authorities, who must decide which stall to close. The movie shows each family trying to insure that the other family’s stall will be closed. One family places rats in the other family’s stall. The second family places roaches in the first family’s stall. And so on.

In the parable, the goal of the enemy is to frustrate the plans of the protagonist. Remember, the meaning of the parable lies in our identifying with a character in the parable. To help us do this, Jesus starts us on our journey of interpretation by making the following allegorical identifications in his explanation in vv. 36-43. 

We, twenty-first century, English speaking, city slickers are separated from Jesus’ audience in three ways—time, language, and geography. We must learn to hear Jesus as his first audience would have heard and understood him.

The good seed Jesus refers to is the wheat seed, which obviously produces wheat. In the first picture, you can see what wheat looks like. The weed that Jesus refers to is known as darnel or rye-grass. The second picture shows what darnel looks like. As you can see, the two are very similar. In fact, it is only when the wheat grains mature and dry on the stalks that darnel can be differentiated from wheat.

In addition, the roots of darnel are wiry and become entangled with the roots of wheat. The master in the parable rightly observes that the reapers would uproot the wheat if they chose to uproot the darnel.

A third fact about darnel is that its tiny seeds are hallucinogenic before they dry up. In dealing with darnel, one can become intoxicated and begin to imagine all sorts of things.

These three facts about darnel and wheat give us a clue to what Jesus is telling us through the parable. He is telling us two things. First, it is difficult to distinguish those who follow him from those who reject him. Second, the lives of those who follow him are intertwined with the lives of those who reject him. Third, there is a right time and place for divine justice—and it is not now!

Now I have often heard the interpretation that the master restrains the reapers just as God shows patience and waits for unbelievers to believe. This goes completely against what Jesus is saying. After all, darnel remains darnel and wheat remains wheat. No farmer allows weeds to remain in the field because he thinks that they might—just might—overnight become good food!

The master in the parable does not hope that the darnel would become wheat. Rather, he is concerned about the wheat that he planted. He wants the wheat to ripen and dry so he can reap an abundant harvest.

Moreover, the master is not worried about the presence of the darnel among wheat. Rather, he is worried that his reapers are unable to do the important job of distinguishing darnel from wheat. What if they mistake a stalk of wheat for darnel just because the grain has not yet grown on the stalk? What if they think a stalk of darnel is standing alone and uproot it only to find three stalks of wheat also land in the fire? What if, while handling the immature seeds of darnel, the reapers begin hallucinating and think that they need to save the darnel and destroy the wheat?

You see, the master’s main worry is not that his crop has been contaminated and has become impure but that justice might be dealt out swiftly and prematurely. After all, premature justice is justice miscarried.

Throughout church history, the church has been preoccupied with identifying true Christians.

Do we not all still do this? Do we not try to draw all kinds of lines to assure ourselves that we are in and that others are out? We use all kinds of markers to draw a sharp line between those who are saved and those who are not saved. Like the Veggie Tales’ song, we approach the issue of salvation as though it were cut and dry. We assume we know exactly who is in and who is out. Moreover, we even assume to know why?

And we even manage to fool ourselves that we are not disobeying Jesus’ words in Matthew 7.1-2 where he tells us, “Do not condemn.” Let us be honest. To believe a person is not Christian is to believe that that person is going to face God’s judgment. It is as good as saying, “You are headed toward hell!”

What qualifies us to make such a judgment? Do we really know the person as Gods does? Yet, we do it all the time! From the general principle that those who believe in Jesus will be saved we frighten people with the opposite—those who do not believe in Jesus are going to hell.

However, drawing for the parable, what if the person we are frightening is a child of the enemy? Can you envisage a farmer speaking to a stalk of darnel and saying, “You know, all the weeds are going to be burnt. You don’t want that to happen, do you? Why don’t you just become wheat?” On the other hand, what if the person is a child of the kingdom, who has not matured? Can you imagine the farmer speaking to a stalk of wheat and saying, “You know, wheat stalks have wheat grains. You don’t have any grains. You must be a weed. Don’t you know that the weeds are going to be burnt?”

The absurdity of the two situations should give us pause. Jesus has warned us sternly against drawing conclusions about the eternal destiny of people. Yet, we do it all the time and say we are following Jesus. What hypocrites we are!

Moreover, in the parable Jesus says that even the angels are unable to make the distinctions we make without a thought. How prideful we are!

In the parable, Jesus tells us that the lines are not as clear as we think they are—or, at least, wish they are. The lines are blurred. How do we know for sure that I am not a weed that just looks so much like the real thing? And how do we know that Saddam Hussein is wheat that has not yet matured?

But if the lines are blurred, whom do we witness to? And whom do we evangelize? May be we need to redefine what we mean by those terms. If by those terms we mean ways by which we attempt to bring people into the kingdom, our parable warns us against even attempting such a thing. For to attempt to bring someone in is to first assume that the person is out, which, as we have seen, is merely condemnation disguised.

However, these terms did not originally refer to bringing people in. Rather, to witness to Jesus was merely to give testimony about Jesus—testimony that he brought the kingdom of God to this earth, that he healed many, that he raised many, that he taught marvelous things, that he upset the status quo, that the authorities put him to death, that the Father raised him, that he reigns now with the Father, that he has sent his Spirit to continue his mission through his people, that he will come again to consummate his love for us.

Similarly, to evangelize was to announce the good news through deeds and words—the good news that God has brought his kingdom to earth in the person of Jesus.

Simple things these are. There is no pressure in these to bring people in. We are merely telling anecdotes about a very good friend. But these are no inconsequential anecdotes. These are anecdotes around which history turns.

Do you wonder why so few of us ever share the good news about Jesus? I sure did. But as I have thought about it, I have come to the conclusion that we have done it to ourselves. In our attempt to have a pure church, through our desire to know who is in and who is out, with our penchant for drawing sharp lines we have taped our mouths and cut off our hands.

Think. Think of a close friend who does not believe in or follow Jesus. Do you not wish this person shared your faith? But how do you approach him? If you begin to share about Jesus, you know that, at some point, the person is going to ask you why what you share is so important. What do you say? You could say, “If you don’t believe this you’re gonna fry!” Or you could say, “I believe this. And do know how much my life has changed since?”

Which option is easier? For my part, it is easier to talk about how Jesus has changed my life. I can talk about that as easily as I can talk about how Alice, Prayerna, or my parents have changed my life. And when it is that easy, people will realize that it is easy precisely because it is so real.

Moreover, which option is honest to our parable? Since Jesus warns us against premature judgment, I cannot sentence someone.

The key to the parable lies in v. 29 where the master says, “No! For in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.” Jesus’ point in the parable is that the two kingdoms—the kingdom of God and the counterfeit kingdom of Satan—grow simultaneously. Between the time when Jesus first announced the kingdom of God and the time when he returns to bring the kingdom fully, the true kingdom and the fake kingdom exist side by side. More to the point, it is extremely difficult to differentiate between the two kingdoms. Indeed, according to the parable, it is impossible!

It is sad that, despite what this parable teaches us, through most of church history, the church has been preoccupied with identifying the signs of the true kingdom. Many answers have been suggested. Some describe what a Christian ought to be. For instance, a Christian must live a pure life, which raises the question, “What behavior is off-limits?” Or a Christian must be baptized, which raises the questions, “When?” and “How?” A third approach is that a Christian must believe in Jesus, which raises the question, “Believe what?”

Other answers describe what a true church should be. For instance, a church must teach biblically sound doctrine, which raises the question, “Which denominations are orthodox?” Or a church must administer the sacraments, which raises the question, “What are the sacraments?” Another approach is that a church must be led by the Holy Spirit, which provokes the question, “How does one decide?”

A third set of answers deal with the effects of the kingdom on society. For instance, the kingdom promotes prosperity, which begs the question, “Why then was Jesus a pauper?” Or the kingdom promotes health, which requires the question, “Why then do we still suffer?” Or the kingdom promotes virtue, which begs the question, “Why then are we so devoid of character?”

My point is that all these approaches ignore what Jesus has told us—that the two kingdoms are difficult to separate. More precisely, the kingdom of God exists where we often do not see it, namely outside the church. And the kingdom of Satan exists where we hope to be safe from it, namely in the church. If you doubt this last claim, read the letters to the churches in the last book of the bible.

The news that the two kingdoms are difficult to differentiate must have been hard for the disciples to take in. After all, in first century Palestine, the line between the unrighteous, whom God would condemn, and the righteous, whom God would bless, was very clear. For them, the Romans were the unrighteous and the Jews the righteous. And here Jesus was saying that the line was not that clear. More to the point, he was saying that even attempting to draw the line was ridiculous.

I have driven home the main point of the parable in a number of ways. The line between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Satan is blurred. We are faced with the crucial question, “Why does Jesus tell this parable?” In other words, “How are we to respond to the parable?”

How we are to respond, of course, depends on the character with which we chose to identify. The only two characters open to us are the wheat and the darnel. The first question Jesus’ audience is faced with is, “Are you wheat or darnel?”

The most common knee-jerk response to the question is, “Of course I am wheat!” There is hardly anyone who would openly claim to be the offspring of Satan! We all function within a worldview and belief system that assures us we are children of God. And it is here that the parable asks us the world shattering question, “How are you so sure?”

Given what we know about how similar wheat and darnel are, we can appreciate the question. How indeed are we so sure? As I have said, every method we develop to determine who is a child of God and who is not merely leads to questions that Christians have answered in a variety of ways. How indeed am I sure that I am a child of God?

The second question Jesus’ audience is faced with is, “Is the person next to you wheat or darnel?” Again, following the logic of the parable any definite answer we give forces us to answer the question, “How are you so sure?”

This parable is masterful in that it asks us the same question without regard to the character with which we chose to identify. And like a good parable, it traps us and ensnares us until it is not we who are interpreting the parable but the parable that is interpreting us.

The parable challenges every boundary drawing bone in us. It questions every inclination we have to make hedges around ourselves. It rebukes every attempt we make to determine who is in God’s kingdom and who is not.

Jesus, Not Towing the Party Line [Matthew 21.1-17] (8 April 2001)

Call me Ishmael. Almost to this very day tens years ago happened the things about which I now tell you. A bright day it was, warm and sunny. I had gotten up early in order to go to Jerusalem for the festival, the great Passover. Now, by my name you would probably realize that I am not a descendent of Isaac. Rather, his elder brother Ishmael, from whom I take my name, is my ancestor. Why, then would I want to celebrate the Passover? For many years I have been what you might call a proselyte. And a critical role in my journey was played by a famous text from the prophet Isaiah—a text that showed me that, despite some trends among the Jews to restrict the Holy One’s blessings to the Jews, the Lord was eager for all to worship him—even one like myself a hated descendent of Ishmael, who even bears that despised name. And that text became a kind of life verse for me. And, like every day since my becoming a proselyte, I began that day ten years ago by reading that very text.

Do not let the foreigner joined to the Lord say, "The Lord will surely separate me from his people"; and do not let the eunuch say, "I am just a dry tree." For thus says the Lord: "To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose the things that please me and hold fast my covenant, I will give in my house and within my walls a monument and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off. And the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord, and to be his servants, all who keep the Sabbath, and do not profane it, and hold fast my covenant—these I will bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer; their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

What a glorious text! What a vision! And for many years, I had started every day with those words that promised me acceptance before the God of Jacob, who also is the God of Ishmael. And finally, after many years, I was about to myself go to the mountain of the Lord to offer my sacrifice. How I had waited, eagerly, expectantly, for this day.

And as I thought of these things, I heard the sweet music of the pilgrims pass outside the inn. And they were singing, “Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord and to the house of our God; Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord and to the house of our God; and he will teach us his ways and we will walk in his paths. And the law shall go forth from Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.” When I heard those lilting sounds, how could I but go outside and join the holy procession?

And so I too began to sing, raising my voice and joining in the fanfare. The procession was much larger than I had imagined and it kept getting bigger and bigger for at every house, every inn, and every crossroad more people streamed in and joined in the festivities. I had timed my entry correctly for I was just about thirty yards from the head of the procession. And behind me the throngs extended as far as the eye could see. At the head of the procession I could see a man, quite stately, riding a horse. He looked regal, to say the least. The people around him were waving palm branches and throwing the branches or their own robes on the road in front of him. What a sight! And soon the song changed. Now they sang another of the traditional processional songs, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”

Who was the man at the head of the procession? I had to know. So I tapped the man in front of me on the shoulder. He turned, singing the song with every ounce of his being. “Who is the man riding on the animal?” He looked at me bewildered at my ignorance. “Do you not know?” he replied. “This is Jesus the one who is going to deliver us from the Romans.” I was taken aback. “You mean he is the Messiah?” I asked the man. “Yes,” he said, “The Lord has finally heard our cries for deliverance. As in the days of Moses and Joshua and Judas Maccabaeus he will set us free with a mighty hand.”

We were speaking quite loudly in order to hear ourselves over the singing. Jesus, it seemed, heard us speaking, for he turned and looked in our direction. Yes, he did look so regal. And so commanding was his look that the man and I stopped our conversation and once again joined in the singing.

A few minutes later I heard, over the singing, a faint voice. “Could someone please help me? Please take my hand and lead me to the temple.” I looked in the direction of the voice and saw a frail old man. He was blind and I wondered why no one would help him. I wondered why Jesus would not stop or at least tell his disciples to help the old man. But I realized that the singing was so loud that Jesus probably could not hear the whispered shout. Not wanting to bring the whole procession to a halt or to disrupt the celebration, I left the procession. I just had to help the man.

I walked over to him. “Here, father, let me assist you. Take my hand and we will go together to the temple.” He turned in my direction and ran his hand over my head, felt the coarseness of my yamaka and then ran his fingers through my beard. “Ah! My son,” he said, “I am so glad you are a son of Abraham. Yes, take me to the temple.”

I knew what he meant. He had taken me for a Jew. And though I was not a descendent of Jacob, I shared in his faith. So I did not think it necessary to correct him. “Yes, father,” I replied. “Let us both go to the house of the Lord.”

When we rejoined the procession we were quite far behind Jesus. And as we hobbled along singing the festival psalms, we were passed by another extremely large group of people waving palm branches and singing, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” In the midst of them was a man riding a donkey. He was deep in thought. “Stragglers,” I thought to myself. But anyway, it was good company to have for the rest of the journey. This group was processing much slower than the group headed by Jesus. And their pace was perfectly suited to the blind man whom I was leading.

In a couple of hours the blind man, the large group of stragglers, and I entered the gates of Jerusalem. “Ah!” I thought to myself, “I am finally here in the great city. Soon I will also enter the gates of the holy temple and offer my sacrifice.”

As we processed toward the temple a few men, who I later realized were an odd mix of Pharisees, Sadducees, and scribes, halted the group of stragglers. They were having an argument about something. Since the blind man and I were not part of that group, we did not bother to wait with them.

Here we were, a blind man and his guide. Neither of us knew the way to the temple—I having never before been to the city, the blind man having never seen anything in his life. Yet I decided to follow the teeming hordes of people. Where else could they be going except the temple itself? And sure enough in a few minutes I could see the temple. It was marvelous, built of huge stones and reaching up to the sky, its height apparently increasing as one drew nearer and felt dwarfed in its presence. This truly was the house of God.

When we entered the gates of the temple we once again heard the beautiful song, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” I wanted to sing but my eyes were drawn to a magnificent figure in the temple courts. It was Jesus, who I had seen riding on a horse. And he was addressing the huge crowd gathered in the court. Both the blind man and I wanted to get closer so we could hear what Jesus was saying. After all, if he were the Messiah, we could do no better than to listen to his words.

“Make way,” I said, “I am with a blind man and we want to hear the words of Jesus.” No one seemed to hear me. So I raised my voice and shouted, “Please let us through. I am with a blind man. We want to hear the words of Jesus.”

My words were heard and by none other than Jesus himself. He turned to me. My heart became light with expectancy. And he spoke: “No blind man may enter the temple and no one who is lame or deaf or in any way unwhole. This is a sacred assembly and no one impure may enter.” Then he fixed his eyes on me and said, “But you, you are whole. You may enter the assembly.”

“But,” I protested, “I cannot leave the blind man now. Not after having been with him so long.”

“Go on, my son,” said the blind man. “It is enough for me that I have reached the temple. Go on without me.”

Reluctantly I went on ahead. As I was about to enter the court I heard someone call my name.

“Ishmael? Is that you?”

I turned toward the voice and saw the man responsible for my becoming a proselyte. “Samuel!” I exclaimed. 

“Yes it is I. It is so good to see you after so long. Come with me into the temple courts.”

“What!?” I heard Jesus say and turned toward him. “Your name is Ishmael!? Then you are not a Jew. You cannot enter the courts for you too, like the blind man, are impure.”

I had, by now stepped into the courts. Jesus’ eyes burned with anger. He charged toward me reaching for the sword in his belt. He would have killed me I think had Samuel not pushed me. The sword struck my right leg. I felt a piercing pain shoot through the entire right side of my body and I fell to the floor. I grasped my leg and covered the gaping wound. Samuel came to my aid and tied a piece of cloth around my thigh. That would stop the bleeding for a while.

What was happening? Why could the blind man and I not enter the temple? Was Isaiah wrong about God’s graciousness? Was my birth as Ishmael, the descendent of Ishmael, to be held against me forever? Was my faith in the God of Jacob not enough? Was there no salvation for me?

All these questions welled up inside my heart. But I had no time to ponder them for a big commotion had started in the courts. The man I had seen riding a donkey came into the courts and began to overturn the tables of the moneychangers and set free the animals that were there to be sacrificed.

“Who is this?” I asked Samuel.

“This is Jesus,” he answered.

“Jesus?” I replied quite confused. “But isn’t the man who attacked me Jesus?”

“Oh yes” said Samuel. “Both are named Jesus. The one who attacked you is Jesus Barabbas. The man now disrupting the temple activities is Jesus from Nazareth.”

“And,” I exclaimed, “both of them are doing things so I will never be able to make my offering. The one refuses me entry into the temple courts. The other is doing away with the sacrifice itself. Where then is there hope for me?”

Jesus of Nazareth had finished setting free the animals. Then, glowering at Jesus Barabbas and at the temple authorities who stood motionless, he said, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples, but you have made it into a den of inhumane nationalists.’” Jesus Barabbas and the temple authorities slunk away arguing among themselves. Though I could not hear what they were saying I presumed that they wanted a way to get rid of Jesus of Nazareth.

Jesus of Nazareth came toward the entrance to the courts where I was lying. He passed me and went to the gates. The blind man had made his way to the gates. Jesus addressed him, “Come into the courts, old man.” The blind man came in. Jesus asked him, “What do you want most?” “That I might see,” he replied. “Then go,” Jesus said, placing his thumbs over the blind man’s eyes, “you can now see.” He removed his thumbs from the man’s eyes.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” exclaimed the man. “I can see! I can see! I am no longer blind. I can see!” And continuing to shout, he left the temple precincts.

“See,” said Samuel. “Jesus of Nazareth is compassionate.”

“Sure,” I muttered to Samuel, “and his words sounded great. He, unlike Jesus Barabbas, would let me enter the temple. But, after his disruptive actions, how could I make the sacrifice?”

Jesus heard my words. He turned toward me and said, “What is it you want most?”

“I came here to offer a sacrifice,” I answered, “but you have stopped all sacrifice.”

“Then go,” he said, “there is nothing for you here.”

I was amazed at his sharp words. But his words rang true. If I had come here to make a sacrifice, there was nothing for me here anymore. I tried to get up, but couldn’t feel my right leg. I tried again to no avail.

Jesus stood towering over me. “Well,” he said. “Why are you waiting? Don’t you see there is nothing for you here?”

“I cannot get up,” I replied. “My right leg is paralyzed. Heal me like you healed the blind man and I will leave.”

“Is that what you want me to do?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said, “I want to be able to walk again.”

“And you believe that I can do this?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I believe.”

“Then,” he said bending down and taking hold of my right hand, “arise! Your faith has healed you.” He pulled me to my feet and I realized that I could feel my right leg. Jesus went down on his knees and unwrapped the piece of cloth around my thigh. The bleeding had stopped. Moreover, there was no sign of the wound either.

“Then I will leave,” I said to Jesus.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with compassion and said, “As you go remember that your faith is accepted as the appropriate sacrifice.”

I left with thanks. The temple in which I wanted to make my sacrifice could no longer accept it. But, in some strange way, I had, nonetheless, made a sacrifice and it had been accepted. A sacrifice, not of animals, but of faith, accepted, not by the temple, but by Jesus.

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Today is Palm Sunday. And you have just heard a dramatic presentation of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and his actions in the temple as recorded by Matthew. Jesus’ actions on Palm Sunday constitute probably the most misunderstood part of his ministry. Having said that, please turn to Matthew 21:1-17.

At the time of Jesus, part of the Passover celebrations involved joyful processions into Jerusalem that ended with sacrifice at the temple. So we should not think that what sets Jesus apart is his procession. That was quite normal. Also, Jesus was not the only person who claimed to be Messiah. Quite a number of Jews did that and the most opportune time for them to assert their right to rule was during the Passover celebrations. In the same year that Jesus rode into Jerusalem there might have been a few others who also did the same. In fact, the first century Jewish historian Josephus indicates that around the early 30s one Jesus Barabbas proclaimed himself Messiah only to be summarily thwarted by the Romans. It is quite probable that this happened the same year that Jesus was crucified.

One thing that set Jesus apart from the false Messiahs was the fact that he rode on a donkey and not on a horse. Matthew indicates that this was to fulfill the prophecy in Zechariah. The lowliness of the Messiah was something that the other messianic claimants were not willing to display. And this was one reason why the Jewish establishment felt threatened by Jesus. But there is another more incisive reason.

Now as I said the Passover processions normally ended with a sacrifice in the temple. This is another way in which Jesus differs. Rather than offer a sacrifice, he puts an end to sacrifice. In the story I reported that Jesus said, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples, but you have made it into a den of inhumane nationalists.’” You will have noticed one major difference in this from most translations. Most translations would have “den of thieves” instead of “den of inhumane nationalists” and I believe the translations are wrong. In the passage Matthew uses the Greek word 'lestes', which in common Greek referred to violent nationalists who financed their revolutionary activities through banditry. In other words, the primary characteristic of a 'lestes' is violent insurrection with thieving being only a secondary quality. The same word is used to describe Barabbas and the two men who were crucified with Jesus. And crucifixion was not the Roman penalty for thieving but for revolt.

That Jesus has violent nationalism in mind is evident when we realize that he has merged Isaiah 56:7 with Jeremiah 7:11. In Jeremiah God asks, “Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you?” The Hebrew word translated “robbers” is 'preetz' which means violent person. In Jeremiah’s day the temple had become a symbol of Jewish nationalism and the same was true in Jesus’ day. Because of this the prophecy of Isaiah could not be fulfilled. Isaiah had announced that Gentiles would also worship God in the temple. However, because the temple had become a symbol of Jewish nationalism, Gentiles were automatically excluded from worshipping there. And that is why Jesus announces the destruction of the temple in Matthew 24. And here in Matthew 21 Jesus announces that the temple had gone so far in its nationalism that it could not be the place where Isaiah’s prophecy would be fulfilled. Because of this he puts an end to the entire sacrificial system.

It is for this reason that the Jewish authorities decide to kill Jesus. While they cherished their temple worship to the point of excluding the Gentiles, Jesus valued worshipping Gentiles more than the temple sacrifice. According to he Jewish leaders, Jesus had wrong priorities that resulted in his blaspheming the temple of God by stopping sacrifice. And the due punishment for this was death.

Now Jesus could not just stop such an important part of Jewish life without offering a replacement. The main task of the temple was to accept sacrifices and to pronounce healing. Having stopped these two important functions, Jesus takes them on himself. It will be he who will become the one accepted sacrifice. And he himself heals others. 

It is in this context that we need to understand the New Testament metaphor of our being the temple of God. While it is certainly correct that this implies that God dwells in us, it also means that we are now the place at which God accepts our sacrifice of praise and faith and where God heals people in every way. And since it is we who are the new temple of God, it means that worship of God does not happen in supposedly holy places but where at least two Christians meet in the name of Jesus.

Entering the Joy of Our Lord - III : Serving God Generously [Matthew 25.14-30] (21 January 2001)

Soli Deo Gloria! To God alone be the glory. That was what Johann Sebastian Bach inscribed at the top of every piece of music he wrote. Though he died in the mid eighteenth century, his music—especially his church music—lives on to this day while numerous other composers have become passé. He had learnt what our text for today intends to teach us.

Two Sundays back we dealt with serving God faithfully as a means of entering into the joy that Jesus has for NUPC. The passage we learned from was Matthew 24.45-51. We saw then that Jesus defended his practice of associating with people who were otherwise considered to be beyond God’s blessing. He ate and drank with gluttons and drunkards, tax collectors and prostitutes. We saw that the task for NUPC as we move to a new place further from the University and inside the community is to be the bearers of God’s love and grace to various groups in the community who we are told are beyond God’s love and grace—the poor, the homeless, single parents, pregnant teenagers, gangs members, drug addicts, pushers, prostitutes, people with AIDS, drunks, gays.

Then last Sunday we learned from Matthew 25.1-13 how to serve God expectantly. We saw that Jesus urged his disciples to be in a state of relentless anticipation—a state in which there are no easy answers. We saw that, as NUPC is poised for wonderful things, we should make plans—plans both to disciple the Christians at NUPC and to reach the community with God’s love. And we should expect God to revise our plans.

Today we will learn from Matthew 25.14-30. On the Tuesday before he was betrayed, Jesus and his disciples went to the temple. As they were leaving, his disciples brought to his notice the wonderful buildings of the temple. In response to this Jesus pronounced a curse on the temple. Surprised at this, his disciples asked him, “When will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” These words form three questions: 1. When will this be—that is, when will the temple be destroyed; 2. What will be the sign of your coming; and 3. What will be the sign of the end of the age? Please stand to hear part of Jesus’ answer to these three questions.

[Here read Matthew 24.36-25.30]

Please be seated.

The passage we are dealing with today is a parable. In the parable a wealthy man entrusts three of his servants with money and leaves on a trip. Now Jesus is careful to add the words “to each according to his ability.” The servants receive different amounts of money not because the master shows favoritism. Rather, the master recognizes the abilities of the servants. He probably bases this on their past endeavors for later in the parable the two servants who are called faithful are given greater responsibilities based on their performance. So what sets the servants apart is not how much they are given but what they do with what they are given.

The third servant did not put his money to work for two reasons. First, he was afraid of reporting to the master with less than what was given him. So he took his single talent and buried it in the ground. This, according to some commentators, was considered the best way to guard against theft. We can picture him stealthily making his way to a remote part of his master’s property at night, under the cover of darkness, when the other two servants were busy working. There, as silently as possible, he dug a hole in the ground, probably cursing every time the shovel rang against a rock for someone might hear him. The hole dug, he quietly placed the money into the womb of the earth and covered it. This servant was not concerned with putting the money to use.

For, he was motivated by fear, as he himself says. Why else would he hide the money in the ground? And how many sleepless nights did he have wondering whether someone would inadvertently dig up the money? Driven by fear that paralyzed him, he was able to take only the solitary act of burying the talent. He did not want it stolen. But it did not occur to him that he could use it. He was probably counting the days till the master returned so he could get this burdensome treasure off his chest. He was short sighted.

Much like the old member in a church who objected to the proposal to buy a plot of land adjoining the church yard to increase burial space. “I have measured the yard,” said he, “and have counted all our members, and find there is just enough room left to bury all our members without buying more land.” But what about new members? This man had a sure fire plan the kill the church!

Now the third servant had one thing right. He knew that his master would return someday. And he knew he would have to account for what had been given him. But he saw the master as a harsh man. His master would ask him to give an account for the talent that had been entrusted to him. If he was not able to produce it, the master would be furious. He could not risk having to come before the master empty handed. After all, a talent would have amounted to fifteen years worth of wages! It was as though the master had given him a million dollars. He had hit the jackpot without even playing the lottery! But he knew the money was not his. Paralyzed by fear he was like the person in the Yiddish proverb who can’t dance but complains that the band can’t play.

Since he was afraid of having less than what had been given him when the master returned, he decided to play it safe. Much like Dan Bricklin. Do not be surprised if you haven’t heard the name. I hadn’t heard of him either till I read an article about him in the US News and World Report. So all my information about him is from the article. It so happens that this man is a genius. He invented the first computerized spreadsheet. Today we can hardly do any job without resorting to some sort of number crunching on a spreadsheet. All thanks to Dan Bricklin. But when his contemporary Bill Gates dropped out of college to concentrate on Microsoft, Bricklin decided to play it safe and complete his M.B.A at Harvard. After all, a Harvard M.B.A almost spells job security. But today Gates is a household name, even if a notorious one. But hardly anyone has heard of Bricklin. For he played it safe.

Why did the third servant play it safe when the other two servants did not? What gave rise to the paralyzing fear he himself said he experienced? See what he says to the master: “Master, I knew you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid.” There it is! He was afraid because he saw the master as a harsh man. If that were the case, if the master were indeed a harsh man, reaping where he did not sow, and gathering where he did not scatter seed, the servant should have at least made a safe investment in the bank. That is what the master tells him in response. Certainly he could have found a reasonably stable bank which would have ensured that he would receive a fair amount of interest by the time the master returned.

Yet, for some reason, he chose to bury the money in a barren hole in the earth. What could this reason be? Let us probe his words a little more. He ends his words to the master with, “Here you have what is yours.” Now when the master had entrusted the three servants with money, he had given them what was his. But the first two servants manage to double what was given to them. Technically, the first servant possessed five talents that belonged to the master and five talents that were the product of his own hard work. Similarly, the second servant had two talents belonging to the master and two that were the fruit of his own labor.

“Here you have what is yours,” says the third servant. What does he imply? Is he not saying, “Master, you gave me one talent, which rightly belongs to you. Had I put it to work, you would expect me to give you even what my hard labor has produced, much like you have with these two servants whom you have commended. Since the product of my sweat should belong to me, and since you insist on having even that, I decided not to put the money to work. So here you have what is technically yours. I’m sure you can’t fault me for this.”

You see, the third servant not only did not want to go before the master with less than he had been given. The second reason why he did not put the money to work was that he also did not want to go there with more! For he was unwilling to let the master have possession of what he had earned. This is the second way in which he stands in stark contrast to the other two servants. They willingly give the master even what they had earned along with what they had been given. They realize that they would not have been able to earn anything had the master not given them something in the first place. The first two servants seem to have the view that whatever they earn with the master’s money should belong to the master. But the third servant is different. He believed that the master owned only the principal. He thought that the earnings on the money should belong to him. He knew that the master would expect all the money returned. His own selfishness and greed made him see the master as a cruel and harsh man for having such expectations. The way we are, the kind of people we are shapes the way in which we view others.

In his book Virtuous Passions, Father G. Simon Harak narrates the following story. Three students decided to go to the movies. One of them was a former Marine sergeant. The second had studied karate for a number of years. The third had no such training in violence in his background. After buying their tickets they regrouped in the lobby. The former Marine addressed the other two, “Did you see that guy on the other side of the ticket booth?” “Yes,” replied the former karate student, “He sure was cruisin’ for a bruisin’, wasn’t he?” “You know,” said the former Marine, “the look on his face...I was just waiting for him to try something.” Saying that, the former Marine thumped one fist into the other palm. The former karate student started to say, “If he had made a move, I would’ve...” but the third student interrupted them by saying, “What guy?”

The two students who were trained in violence were disposed to taking things in a certain way. They were, in every sense, looking for trouble. But the third student was not. His background of nonviolence made him expect nonviolent behavior from others. He might have indeed perceived the belligerent man but did not perceive him as belligerent.

In the same way the three servants in our parable had the same master. There is nothing to indicate that the master used to treat them differently. Sure he gave them different amounts of money. But he rewards the first and second servants in exactly the same way with exactly the same words. Though the master used to treat all three in the same way, the third servant had a decidedly different picture of the master.

He saw the master as an exacting, cruel man. So he treated the master in the same way. He saw the master as a miser, so he gave the master miserably in both his work and his repayment. He did not work and he gave the master exactly what had initially been given to him. But the first two servants recognized the master’s generosity. They worked generously and gave back to the master in a generous manner.

How we view God will determine how we treat God and the gifts he has given us. If we view God as a miser, we will give him miserable work and use our gifts in a miserly fashion. If we see him as harsh, we will address him harshly. If, on the other hand, we view God as generous, we will give him generous work and use our gifts generously. If we see him as gracious, we will address him graciously.

Now, the way the three servants viewed their master had consequences. The parable does not end with the servants giving back to the master. Rather, it ends with the master giving again to the servants. To the first two he gives dominion over many things. To the third servant he metes out punishment.

In a sense, all three servants get something at the end of the parable. Quite a few of you have probably heard of the computer-speak word WYSIWYG. What You See Is What You Get. For all practical purposes, the experiences of the three servants are like that. The first two servants see the master as gracious and generous. The third sees him as miserly and harsh. All three work for him in accordance with their perception of the master’s character. And in doing so, their characters are changed. The first two become more like the master. The third becomes more unlike the master. And at the end the master rewards them all with what they saw in him because they have become like their perception of the master. The first two are rewarded with grace because, in seeing the master as gracious, they had become gracious. The third is rewarded with harshness because, in seeing the master as harsh, he had become harsh.

This is revealed in the way in which the master addresses the third servant. “You wicked and lazy slave!” he says. Note the order. The first charge is that the slave is wicked. He is wicked because his view of the master reveals him to be wicked for only a wicked person could accuse so gracious a master of being harsh. And his wickedness leads to his laziness. He fails to work because he does not want to work for the master. And he does not want to work for the master for, on account of his own miserable character, he sees the master as a miser.

So what does all this have to do with NUPC? Why have we labored three weeks through this greatly misunderstood portion of Jesus’ teachings?

God has placed us in a place of tremendous opportunity. We have members from all over the world. And we are moving right into the heart of possibly the most diverse community in the world. Are we going to shrug off the responsibility to which God is calling us? Or are we going to be faithful like Jesus the faithful slave par excellence?

Let us not be reticent in fulfilling this responsibility. God is waiting for us, to meet us in the midst of our fulfilling the tasks to which he has called us. We may not read his timing or ways infallibly. But have no doubt that he is eager to take us where we can scarcely dream of going. Are we ready to serve him with expectancy? Will we serve with each moment charged with anticipation that God would reveal himself to us?

And let us not think that we are small and have but little to offer. It does not matter how large a church we are. What matter is the largeness of heart with which we serve this gracious God who has, of his incredible generosity, called us to be partners in and heirs of his kingdom. Will we respond by serving him generously? And will we serve him with an attitude that does not grudge him the glory he rightly deserves?

If we serve him in this manner—faithfully, expectantly, and generously—have no doubts that we will be entering into the joy that Jesus has for us in the near future. And it will be a sweet foretaste of that greater joy for which we eagerly wait when he will at last be revealed to all the world in his magnificent glory.

Entering the Joy of Our Lord - II : Serving God Expectantly [Matthew 25.1-13] (14 January 2001)

"Be vigilant therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour."

In December 1995 I left India to come to Fuller. A few months earlier, I had fallen in love with this most incredible woman. When we had told each other how we felt and that we wanted to get married, we were immediately faced with a problem. I was headed for Pasadena to start a program that would take three years at the very least. I knew that three years was a long time to be away from the woman I loved. And I knew that it would be difficult for her too. So I warned her that she might probably see me only after three years. “Alice,” I told her, “you know that I might not be able to visit India till I complete my studies at Fuller. This will be a long wait.” I went on and on, painting the gloomiest picture I could. Though my words were directed toward her, I was warning myself as much as I was warning her. I left India for Fuller. And then began the period of relentless anticipation.

Last Sunday we dealt with serving God faithfully as a means of entering into the joy that Jesus has for NUPC. The passage we learned from was Matthew 24.45-51. We saw then that Jesus defended his practice of associating with people who were otherwise considered to be beyond God’s blessing. He ate and drank with gluttons and drunkards, tax collectors and prostitutes. We saw that the task for NUPC as we move to a new place further from the University and inside the community is to be the bearers of God’s love and grace to various groups in the community who we are told are beyond God’s love and grace—the poor, the homeless, single parents, pregnant teenagers, gangs members, drug addicts, pushers, prostitutes, people with AIDS, drunks, gays. That was what we learned last Sunday.

Today we will deal with Matthew 25.1-13 and next Sunday we will learn from Matthew 25.14-30. When I mentioned today’s sermon last Sunday I said, and I quote, “Next Sunday I will preach from Matthew 25.1-13, unless Jesus returns in less than a week.” The reason I did this was that today’s passage teaches us that we are in a state of relentless anticipation.

Relentless anticipation. What does that mean? It means two things. First, it means that we should anticipate the fulfillment of a promise at any moment. To fail in this would give rise to complacency. Second, it means that we should relentlessly hold on to the promise if any given moment does not prove to be the moment of fulfillment. To fail in this would result in disillusionment.

The Jews realized this slowly and painfully. If my eighteen month wait was torture, just think how painful their wait had been at the time of Jesus. Some scholars place Abraham in the eighteenth century BC. At the time of Jesus, the Jews had waited eighteen centuries from the time of their founding promises. Sure Abraham had been warned that his descendants would be slaves in Egypt for four hundred years. But that did not make their enslavement in Egypt any more endurable. Rather, they grew restless. For the promise of redemption had also been made to Abraham. How could they live restfully as slaves when exodus had been promised them? To live between promise and fulfillment is to live in a state of relentless anticipation.

And in the time of Jesus, the Jews were living in the promised land for sure. But they were subservient to the Romans. In the minds of many Jews, they were still in exile. Something drastic had to happen if God’s promises to them would prove true. God had to send a deliverer. And SOON! They were primed to respond to just about any person with messianic claims. God had promised them freedom. But they were prisoners in the promised land. How could they live restfully as the jailbirds of the Jordan when liberation had been promised them? To live between promise and fulfillment is to live in a state of relentless anticipation.

Into such a situation Jesus came announcing the arrival of the kingdom of God. He knew that the hope for God’s kingdom was a good one but that the shape it took in many minds would have to be altered. So he presented the kingdom to his hearers in the form of parables and miracles. When he began his ministry he painted word pictures to enable his disciples to recognize the activity of the kingdom. However, toward the end of his ministry, his parables took on a different flavor.

On the Tuesday before he was crucified, Jesus and his disciples were leaving the temple. At that time, his disciples brought to his notice the magnificent buildings of the temple that Herod was building. In response to that Jesus pronounces a curse on the temple. Then the disciples ask him “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?" If you are able, please stand for the hearing of part of Jesus’ answer.

[Here read Matthew 24.36-25.30]

Please be seated.

There are some things to keep in mind. First, the disciples ask Jesus three questions: 1. When will this be—that is, when will the temple be destroyed; 2. What will be the sign of your coming; and 3. What will be the sign of the end of the age? Second, Matthew 24.36-25.30, which I just read, is part—and only part—of Jesus’ answer. Third, Matthew 25.1-13, the text we are learning from today, is a parable. We should avoid forcing meaning on every aspect of the parable.

What, then, is the parable about? One thing I really appreciate about Jesus’ teaching methods is that he often follows a lengthy discourse or parable with a short saying that captures the essence of what he was trying to teach. Here we have the statement, “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”
However, no sooner have we read this than we are faced with a problem. For in the parable all the bridesmaids sleep! It is best, therefore, to translate the last sentence “Be vigilant therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Be vigilant, be alert, be ready, be expectant.

Another problem arises when we try to identify elements of the parable. For instance, what is the oil? We might be tempted to say that it is the Holy Spirit. Or since the bridegroom answers, “I do not know you” we might say that the oil signifies a personal relationship with Jesus. However, that is not what the parable says. At the end of the parable the foolish bridesmaids return to the reception hall. Would they have returned without oil? Quite unlikely!

The key to understanding why the foolish bridesmaids are denied entrance is to see how Jesus tells the parable. When the parable begins the bridesmaids are divided into two groups. The foolish ones take no oil with them. The wise ones take oil with them. Toward the end of the parable, the bridesmaids are again divided into two groups. The ones who were ready gain entrance into the wedding banquet. The “others”—the ones who were not ready—are denied entrance. So in some way taking oil with them qualified the wise bridesmaids as being ready. And that is the key. The ones who participate in the banquet are those who were ready.

What does it mean, though, that one group was ready? Does this mean that they alone were eager for the bridegroom to come? Hardly! All the bridesmaids were eager to receive the bridegroom. They wanted him to come. They wanted the festivities to begin. That is why they all trimmed their wicks when the bridegroom came. The foolish bridesmaids were not accused of a lack of enthusiasm. Oh they were eager to put on a great show when the bridegroom came. They wanted their lamps to shine brightly. They wanted to be part of the procession that accompanied the bridegroom into the banquet hall. They were not guilty of lack of zeal. Rather, they were found wanting in foresight. They were not wise. They were foolish.

What earned them this label? Why can they be called foolish? The only indication the parable gives us is that they did not take oil. Sure they managed to get oil later. But they were meant to welcome the bridegroom and participate in the procession. They had taken their lamps with the full intention of setting the night sky ablaze. But they had a time schedule in mind. Their lamps were lit and they expected the bridegroom to arrive before the lamps smoldered and died. While that expectancy in itself is good, they had not questioned their time frame. They had not entertained the possibility that the bridegroom might be late. They were foolish enough to think that they could dictate the time frame which the bridegroom should observe.

This calls to mind some of the end times cults and the books that accompany them. “Eighty eight reasons why the world will end in 1988.” “Eighty nine reasons why the world will end in 1989.” Both titles of books. Both proved wrong by history. Both proved foolish by Jesus’ parable. For it is foolish to try and dictate terms to God. We should approach every moment as the moment in which God might fulfill his promises but not attempt to imprison God’s purposes within it. To live between promise and fulfillment is to live in a state of relentless anticipation. It is a state of tension in which there are no easy answers.

But the foolish bridesmaids believed they had the answer. The bridegroom was sure to arrive before their lamps went out. Surely he was eager to meet his bride! How, then, could he delay? Ah, yes! The foolish bridesmaids had the answers. They did not consider the possibility of their being wrong. Even though the festivities belonged to the bridegroom and his bride they presumed to think that they controlled events.

“What? The bridegroom delay? You must be kidding! He will come well before our lamps go out. What’s more,” they probably say to the wise bridesmaids, “the five of you will be distracted with having to dispose your excess oil. After all, we are all environmentally conscious!” Yes, they believed they knew when the procession would begin. And they did not think it wise to stock up on oil.

But that is precisely why the wise bridesmaids are called wise. They thought ahead. “What if the bridegroom delayed? Our lamps would die an ugly death. But this wedding procession should be the best one ever. We want to put the stars to shame with the brilliance of our lamps. Therefore, we must take more oil.” The wise bridesmaids identified the issue correctly. The bridegroom might be late. And they were wise to plan for that possibility.

Both groups were anticipating the arrival of the bridegroom. Both groups expected to participate in the wedding festivities. When they first lit their lamps both groups were ready for the bridegroom to come. But the wise ones were ready when the bridegroom chose to come. By that time the foolish one were quite unprepared. They had to run here and there to get oil. And even when they did, it was too late. When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound, time shall indeed be no more. There will then be no time to make amends.

Now if this parable is about the imminence of Jesus’ return, how do we apply it to our present situation at NUPC? Though it is about Jesus’ return, the difference between the two groups of bridesmaids is that the foolish ones presumed to dictate the agenda whereas the wise ones recognized that it is the bridegroom who dictates the agenda.

The Hebrew prophets looked forward to a day when God would act and deliver his people. They expected the deliverance to come imminently. However, they had to wait centuries. When John the Baptizer came along and repeated words from Isaiah, many Jews may have thought this was another instance of a prophet announcing imminent deliverance when there would be no deliverance. Only a few who were ready for the deliverance when it came—and, for that matter, the manner in which it came.

In the same way, we at NUPC are poised this year for wonderful things. We are moving to a new facility that will enable us to make a concerted effort to bring God’s love to the community. We will begin writing discipleship materials in about two months and begin one-on-one discipleship shortly thereafter. We have LIGHThouses in which brothers and sisters are maturing.

How soon do we see all of this come to fulfillment? I have given Mark, Steve, and Persida quite a detailed plan for all of this. However, what if God decides to act slower? Would we get disillusioned and just give up on all these wonderful things? And what if God acts faster? Would we hinder his work because he caught us unawares?

We need certainly to make plans prayerfully. But we must never set our plans in stone. We need to hold them lightly, always being ready for God to revise them. In fact, we should expect God’s hand to constantly mold our plans for we still see through a glass dimly.

When I warned Alice, I expected the warning to make the wait easier to bear. But in retrospect I realize that waiting is never easy. Just knowing that there was a promise waiting to be fulfilled was enough to give rise to a restless longing for fulfillment that gnawed at me every moment of the eighteen months that I was away from Alice. How could I live restfully as a bachelor when Alice had been promised me? To live between promise and fulfillment is to live in a state of relentless anticipation.

Entering the Joy of Our Lord - I : Serving God Faithfully [Matthew 24.45-51] (7 January 2001)

As a Star Wars fan, the question that recently sprung up in my mind was, “Who is the Jedi that returns in The Return of the Jedi?” Anyone here care to shed light on this? Does it not refer to Luke Skywalker, who returns after losing his hand to Darth Vader’s lightsaber to defeat Vader? That would seem to be the answer to my question. Now some of you might be thinking that I should get a life, but as I pondered the question I realized that there is a second level to it. At the end of The Empire Strikes Back, Luke is not a Jedi. That is what we learn from Yoda, who is about as reliable a character as one could get. How then could Luke be the Jedi who returns? And if Luke is not the Jedi referred to in the title, who is? I believe the reference is to Anakin Skywalker, who is rescued from the dark side by Luke. Anakin was a Jedi before turning to the dark side and becoming Darth Vader. And in The Return of the Jedi he returns to the good side. The reason why the title fascinates me is that there is more than one level of meaning—the obvious and the not so obvious. And it is a sign of genius to be able to combine two levels of meaning in a cryptic title.

Would we expect any less from Jesus? In his book, The Divine Conspiracy, Dallas Willard says this: “It is not possible to trust Jesus… in matters where we do not believe him to be competent.” He goes on: “[Can] we seriously imagine that Jesus could be Lord if he were not smart?… Once you stop to think about it, how could he be what we take him to be in all other respects and not be the best-informed and most intelligent person of all, the smartest person who ever lived?” Elsewhere Willard says, “‘Jesus is Lord’ can mean little in practice for anyone who has to hesitate before saying ‘Jesus is smart.’”

So, if multiplicity of meanings in a movie title is a sign of genius, we should expect multiple meanings in what Jesus says. And that is what we have in the passage we will deal with today. Before we go on to our text, let me warn you that I will be preaching three Sundays in a row, including today. The three sermons will be a series titled “Entering the Joy of Our Lord” based on Matthew 25.21 and 23. In these three sermons we will understand what it takes to enter into the joy that Jesus has for us as a church in the present and the near future. For the series I have chosen the chunk of text in Matthew 24.36-25.30. Today I will be preaching from Matthew 24.45-51. Next Sunday I will preach from Matthew 25.1-13, unless Jesus returns in less than a week. And on the 21st I will preach from Matthew 25.14-30.

Before we read our text, let us set it in its proper context. It is two days before the night when Jesus would eat his last meal with his disciples prior to his crucifixion. Two days have passed since Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey on what we know as Palm Sunday. As was his custom, Jesus went to the temple every day of that week from Sunday to Thursday. On Tuesday, as he and his disciples were leaving the temple, his disciples noticed how magnificent the temple was. In response to that Jesus said, “You see all these, do you not? Truly I tell you, not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

This pronouncement of a curse on the central symbol of Jewish faith made the disciples curious and they asked Jesus, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming, and of the end of the age?” 

It is important here to observe that this is not one question but three: 1. When will this be—that is, when will the temple be destroyed; 2. What will be the sign of your coming; and 3. What will be the sign of the end of the age? Jesus proceeds to answer these questions, not strictly in order. Part of the answer is in the chunk of text with which we are dealing. If you are able, please stand to hear then what Jesus says:

[Read Matthew 24.36-25.30 here.]

Please be seated.

Today we are dealing specifically with Matthew 24.45-51. Now, because we view this as Scripture, we tend to see in it application to us right away. That is the obvious level of meaning. However, that might not be the real way of understanding the passage. So before we try to apply the passage let us uncover the not so obvious meaning. Then we can let that meaning guide us in applying Jesus’ words to NUPC (North University Park Church).

Our passage is a parable. But it is also presented as a riddle. Jesus asks, “Who then is the faithful and wise slave?” And at the level of a riddle, we can get to the not so obvious meaning. There are two clues for the not so obvious meaning.

First, Jesus describes a wicked slave as one who “eats and drinks with drunkards.” Turn with me to Matthew 11.18-19. Here we see that Jesus was accused of being a glutton and a drunkard. Jesus’ response is, “Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.

Now turn with me to Deuteronomy 21.18-21. Here we see that a rebellious son is described as a glutton and a drunkard. And the solution to the problem is the stoning of the rebellious son. That is, the rebellious son is to be put to death so that evil would be purged from Israel.

In other words, when Jesus is described as a glutton and a drunkard, he is being portrayed in the mold of a rebellious son. And the solution is to put him to death. So, when Jesus is crucified, his accusers would be able to point to his death and say that God had cursed Jesus and ordered his death because Jesus was a rebellious son who led the people of Israel astray.

Jesus, as we saw, does not refute outright the charge of being a rebellious son. Rather he responds with the cryptic words, “Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

The second clue is the way in which the faithful slave is rewarded. Jesus says that the master “will put that [faithful slave] in charge of all his possessions.” That is the vindication Jesus is looking for. And in Matthew 28.18 he claims, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” In other words, God has placed Jesus in charge of all of God’s possessions. In other words, Jesus is the faithful slave of the riddle. Though he fraternized with people of ill repute, though he ate and drank with gluttons and drunkards, he had not mistreated the members of God’s household, nor led them astray in a manner that his enemies accused him of doing.

What Jesus does is break the link that many people entertain between being faithful to God and the company one keeps. Fraternizing with gluttons and drunkards does not make one a glutton and a drunkard as long as one is bringing the light of God’s grace to those gluttons and drunkards.

We have two options. Either we believe Jesus is still dead and under God’s curse for leading people astray. Or we believe that God raised Jesus and put him in charge of all creation. If we choose the second alternative, we must conclude that the way of Jesus is the way of God. That is, Jesus’ life reveals the way of living as God would have us live.

But what was Jesus’ way? If we read the text at its superficial level we might conclude: 1. that we are to treat the other slaves of the household well; and 2. that we are not to associate with gluttons and drunkards. But from the riddle we see that Jesus is defending the way he associated with the gluttons and drunkards. For him, treating others in God’s household well involved bringing God’s light to them.

Do you know why most Protestant churches have Sunday services that start between 10 and 11? It goes back to the German reformer Martin Luther. When he was an Augustinian monk, he lived a secluded life that was concerned with his personal purity before God. He was burdened with being able to present himself holy before a holy God. He would spend most of his time confessing his sins to his confessor—that is, the priest who heard confession and pronounced absolution. In fact, his confessor disclosed that Martin would come to him to confess the sins of a five year old. The sins of a five year old were burdening Martin! 

Then Martin stumbled upon the gospel of God’s grace. So what did he do? He left the Augustinian order, got married, and began to spend much time in the taverns of Wittenberg. He realized that it was the sinners who needed to hear the liberating gospel of God’s grace. So he spent time with them. But he stayed so late every night, including Saturday night, that he was not fully functional the next morning till about 10 am. So he moved the Sunday services from 7am to 11am.

Though this bit of information is somewhat humorous, it stems from the fact that Martin realized that sinners will only be saved by our bringing God’s light to them. Did he drink with the drunks? Sure! That’s where we get the melody for the great hymn A Mighty Fortress Is Our God! He took a well known German tavern song, wrote new words, and soon had the drunks singing this hymn while they chugged down their steins of beer.

So today we are faced with the question, “What is the way of Jesus for NUPC?” But for our context, what is God’s household? Again, there are two levels.

At one level, God’s household is NUPC itself and the slaves who are in charge are the leaders at NUPC. How do we fulfill our task as leaders? The answer is not programs of different sorts. No! Jesus’ way for the leadership at NUPC is twofold. First, we need to spend time with everyone at NUPC. It will not do for the leadership to always huddle together in its little clique. Second, as leaders we need to do what Jesus did as a leader. He delegated his authority to his disciples. In like manner, the leaders at NUPC need to delegate the authority Jesus has given us. Both of these we have done to some extent. But we need to go much further. And we need the help of all of you. When you see us falter in this, please bring it to our notice. And please do it gently.

At the second level, God’s household is the community and the slaves who are in charge are all of us. We are soon to be moving some distance from the University. We will now be a real presence in the community. However, in order to bring the light of Jesus into the community, we need to personally go into it. Nothing can substitute for the presence of redeemed humans in a community that needs God’s redemption. We need, therefore, to understand the community and its needs. We need to realize where it is hurting and also what its strengths are. And we need to use all this information to be intimately involved with the life of the community.

There will be people whom we have been taught not to associate with: the poor, the homeless, single parents, pregnant teenagers, gangs members, drug addicts, pushers, prostitutes, people with AIDS, drunks, gays. But which of these do not need the love of God to shine in their lives? Which of these is beyond the blood of Jesus? It will not be easy. Each of these groups has its own cultures and its own challenges. We need to decide which groups we will seek to understand and, having understood, formulate a strategy for bringing God’s love to them.

Here let me make myself very clear. Jesus was accused of being a glutton and a drunkard because he ate and drank with people who were shunned—like prostitutes, tax collectors, etc. Though he associated with sinners, he did not condone their sinful behavior. However, he did show them God’s unconditional love by entering their homes and eating and drinking with them. So also, in seeking to bring God’s love to people who are otherwise shunned or believed to be beyond God’s acceptance, we should certainly not condone their behavior—far less behave like them—but neither should we refuse to be their friends. For be very certain of this: if we refuse to be their friends, we are, as people who claim to be God’s friends, telling them that God refuses to be their friend. How then, when we consider how great sinners we ourselves are, are we so sure that God is our friend?

Now we are still a relatively small church. However, the issue is whether or not we fulfill God’s task to us of ministering properly to his household around us. So let us take stock of our resources and gifts. Let us use them to fulfill our vision. But just a concluding note of encouragement—or, for those of us who do not like responsibility, of warning—if we serve him faithfully, he will put us in charge of greater things.

...And Remember [Matthew 28.16-20] (12 November 2000)

It’s a scene that sticks in the mind of anyone who has seen the movie. A motley trio attempting to rescue Princess Buttercup who is about to be forced to marry the evil Prince Humperdinck. Wesley, the hero, just been barely resuscitated from a state of being almost dead, Inigo Montoyo, the Spaniard seeking to avenge his father’s murder, and Fezek, the giant aiding them are looking down across the moat toward the castle in which Wesley’s beloved Buttercup is being held prisoner. In this strange group huddle they come up with a plan of action. But we must leave them there for now.

After all, we have Jesus to deal with! Now we will be concentrating on vv. 16-20. Yet I chose to read all of chapter 28 because the way in which Matthew tells his story is brilliant. Now each of the four Gospels tells the same story differently. For instance, only Luke has an account of the ascension. Only Matthew has the account of the lie told by the soldiers. Only John does not have an account of the transfiguration. The differences help us understand the special emphases each of the evangelists had when they wrote their Gospels. And we will see how the way Matthew tells his story impacts us today.

What do you think is the main point of Matthew 28.16-20? What title would you use to describe the passage?

Now on Monday, quite out of the blue, Mark called me and asked me if I would be willing to preach. I accepted and asked him whether he had a specific text in mind. He told me he would like to continue with the theme of encouragement. This time from the New Testament. Now the Greek word for encouragement is ‘paraklesis' from the verb ‘parakaleo' which means “to encourage”. It is also from this verb that we get the word ‘parakletos' or Paraclete, one of the titles in John’s Gospel for the Holy Spirit. None of these words appear in our passage. Why then are we dealing with it now? Well, for a passage to deal with a certain subject—in this case encouragement—it does not have to have the word “encouragement” in it. After all, if a friend needs encouragement, you scarcely go up to him or her and say, “Here, let me encourage you.” No, you would most likely listen, offer advice, or give an encouraging hug. So if you want to be encouraged by scripture, go to a passage that encourages, and not just a passage that has the word!

And the final words of Matthew’s Gospel are all about encouragement. Now for encouragement to be truly effective there need to be some elements. Let us treat them one by one.

I don’t know how many of you have heard Another Brick in the Wall, Pt 2 by Pink Floyd. The song goes: “We don’t need no education/ We don’t need no thought control/ No dark sarcasm in the classroom/ Teachers leave us kids alone.” The movie The Wall is quite bizarre. While this song is being sung, we see a whole bunch of children, dressed up identically as students, marching like zombies into a sausage making machine that symbolizes the education system. Much of The Wall deals with the main character’s feeling of futility. For him, life has no purpose and so he goes through it like a zombie, trying his best to give it a kickstart but only becoming increasingly suicidal.

An opposite picture is painted in The Dead Poets’ Society. There Robin Williams is an English teacher at a snooty school. The students initially feel much like the kids in The Wall. However, Robin Williams proves to be innovative. He gives them something that the school administration would disapprove of. But it includes reading poetry! The students dislike the school administration more than they dislike poetry and the teacher knows it. His plan gives them purpose—that of pooh-poohing the establishment. This is what the kids in The Wall lacked.

But this is what Jesus gives his disciples. He tells them, “As you go, disciple all nations, by baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and by teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.” What a purpose! The scope is so large that the whole world is included. Yet it is so individual. After all, each person is unique implying that disciples cannot be produced on a assembly line. It is so specific. Disciples are to obey everything that Jesus has commanded. In other words, discipleship centers around Jesus. And what a privilege to be able to baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit! Could they get any higher name!? Jesus is such a genius! In order to encourage his disciples, he gives them a purpose beyond which there can be no other.

However, a purpose alone is not enough as seen in the novel Moby Dick by Herman Melville. The main character, Captain Ahab, has a very specific and motivating purpose—that of killing the enormous whale Moby Dick who had bitten off one of Ahab’s legs. However, Ahab fails and fails miserably because he fails to realize that, between Moby Dick and himself, he was by far the weaker of the two. Ahab just did not have the power to fulfill his purpose. And so he ends up on the back of Moby Dick trying to drive a harpoon into the whale and failing at that too.

Ah, but Jesus is great. He gives his disciples the most challenging purpose ever. And lest they say, “Great purpose! But you gotta be kiddin’!” he precedes it with the words, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” Talk about power to match the purpose! Not just some authority but all. Not just in heaven but also on earth—exactly where the disciples would need it if they are to disciple all the nations. Moreover, Jesus does not say, “I have all authority” but “All authority has been given to me.” The use of the passive is typical in Jewish circles when God is the initiator but the speaker wants to avoid the use of God’s name. Jesus is saying, therefore, “God has given me all authority.” This indicates that Jesus has not stolen it but is the one to whom by God’s will all authority rightly belongs. So no one can strip him of this authority. What a backing the disciples have! Jesus is such a masterful encourager! How do you motivate and encourage a bunch of doubting disciples? Give them a charge to beat all others. And provide them with the assurance that there is power—enough and more—to fulfill the charge.

Now just as purpose without power is not enough, power without purpose is also insufficient. In a world that does not understand them and their powers, Xavier’s School for Gifted Children provide the budding mutants of The X-Men with purpose. Without that purpose, they would be like Rogue who is unable to touch any other human because of the power she has. But at the school, Dr. Xavier teaches her and the other mutant students to direct and control their powers so that they benefit and not harm humans.

So also Jesus does not only give the assurance of power. He couples it with the command to teach all nations to obey him. The disciples are not to go around calling down fire from heaven because the power available to them is available for the purpose of bringing the world to obey Jesus.

We would think that this is enough. Purpose and power together provide proper protection against potential misuse of either. However, is that enough?

The title song of Friends seems to indicate there is a little more. Through life’s ups and downs the refrain is “I’ll be there for you.” Supposedly each of the six friends commits to the other five his or her support through the struggles of life.

The song Brothers In Arms by Dire Straits puts it in stronger terms, “Through these fields of destruction/ Baptisms of fire/ I’ve watched all your suffering/ As the battles raged higher/ And though they did hurt me so bad/ In the fear and alarm/ You did not desert me/ My brothers in arms.” The song is sung by a soldier mortally wounded in battle. His comrades carry him out to safety putting their lives at risk though they know he will soon die. Much starker imagery than the chirpy title song of Friends!

In our passage Jesus has given his disciples a brilliant purpose. He has assured them of enough power to fulfill the purpose. But now he tops all of this by promising his presence, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” That is why Matthew does not record the ascension. For Jesus is with his church. Not just for his church as a crutch or support as in the Friends song. But rather as a comrade and commander as in Brothers In Arms.

Now Jesus does not pull this idea from out of thin air. He does not think, “Hmm. It would be good if I promised them my presence.” No! Jesus is drawing from a very crucial strand of Old Testament theology—one that, unfortunately, too many Christians do not understand or do not emphasize. It is a strand of theology without which Old Testament prophecy cannot be understood.

This strand of theology starts in Genesis 3.8 where God walks in the garden in order to have a rendezvous with Adam and Eve. However, it says, “The man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God.” Then in Genesis 4.16 we are told, “Then Cain went away from the presence of the Lord, and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden.” In Exodus 33.15-16 Moses tells God, “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here. For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people, unless you go with us?” At the time of the exile Ezekiel ascribes the atrocities the Israelites faced at the hands of the Babylonians to his vision of the glory of God departing from the temple and from Jerusalem. And Ezekiel sees that the restoration of Israel will only be possible if God will return to live among his people. It is this strand of theology, so rich and so evocative, that Jesus draws upon. It is the biggest promise that Jesus could make because the sign that God had begun to reign on earth and had restored his people was that he was also dwelling with his people. But if this is true, if God is really with the church in the person of Jesus, what are Christians called to do?

And it is here that we come to the rest of chapter 28 and Matthew’s brilliant storytelling skills. Chapter 28 does not have only one commission—commonly known as the Great Commission. Rather, there are three commissions. In vv. 5-10 we have the first commission. It is first issued by the angel at the tomb, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’” Jesus repeats the command, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” The major elements are the same. The women are not to be afraid and they are to tell the disciples to go to Galilee where they would see Jesus. The difference is that the angel refers to the disciples as “his disciples” while Jesus calls them “my brothers”—they are to be brothers in arms, which is why in Matthew 11 Jesus calls his disciples to be yoked together with him. The command to the women is specific and there is an incentive for them when the angel says, “He has been raised.” And there is the assurance that they will see the risen Jesus. They proceed to fulfill the command. How, otherwise, would the eleven disciples have known to go to Galilee as they did?

Then there is a switch of scene. Now the priests issue a command to the soldiers, “You must say, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.” The soldiers are also given incentives—money and the assurance that they will not be punished by the governor. And they too fulfilled their command. So Matthew tells us, “So they took the money and did as they were directed. And this story is still told among the Jews to this day.”

Then we come to vv. 16-20. Here too is a command, “As you go, disciple all the nations.” Here too there are incentives—that all authority belongs to Jesus and that he will be with his disciples always. But what is missing? There is no account of the fulfillment of the command.

We can take this in two ways. First, we could understand that the command was not fulfilled. If that is how the reader reads this, the reader is expected to say, “What!? With so much backing, why did they not fulfill the command? What more could Jesus have offered?” This is not, however, how Matthew intends us to take it.

Second, we could understand that the command is being fulfilled. Quite evidently it is not completed. But we could understand that it is in process of being completed. This is how Matthew would have us understand the passage. “But how,” a reader may ask, “am I supposed to know that this is how Matthew wants us to read it?” Or getting back to The Princess Bride, what do Wesley, Inigo and Fezek do next? If you do not already know it, you’ve gotta see the movie!

Similarly, Matthew would reply, “Ah! For that you would have to assume my position. You would have to be a Christian. For only Christians can see the fact that Jesus is present with his church. In other words, you have to make Jesus’ story a vital part of your story. And his story is one that will give you purpose, power, and the promise of his presence. What more encouragement can you need?”