Dear Theophilus,
Your last paragraph I find rather
fascinating. It was probably easy for
you, a disciple of Jesus Christ, to write, for you love to think of Jesus’ love
for all people. For those of us on the
outside looking in, it’s similarly easy to see Jesus as someone who keeps
offering statements that seem divisive and almost cruel to those who move in
different directions than he. You frame
his divisive and harsh words in the light of love, and I can’t help but think
of teachers I had who pushed me harder and faster than I would have liked. It was easy for me to resent them at the
time, but as I look back I deeply appreciate their influence in my life. Do you suppose that the Pharisees came to
appreciate Jesus’ words at a later date, after all this was said and done? Or do you think that his words caused them to
build such elaborate defense mechanisms within their minds that no time could
sufficiently erode them and give them the chance to appreciate his challenges? Obviously, we have no idea as to the fate of
these men, but perhaps they later realized Jesus’ motives. I suppose that you are right, but it is easy
to hear his words and wonder why more people didn’t oppose him.
For instance, the story you told
took place when Jesus was on the way to dine at the house of a Pharisee. I have record that the dinner contained some
teachings by Jesus that doubtless left some of the men there feeling a bit put
out. Jesus was observing the way that
some of the guests self-selected themselves for places of honor around the
table, and he couldn’t help but tell a parable that was a thinly-veiled jab at
the men of the present banquet.
Jesus’ parable was an instruction
to all listening to never take the place of honor for themselves. The danger of this is that if someone more deserving
of this place arrives, it will be a disgrace when the host displaces you and
causes you to take the lowest place so that the more deserving person may have
the seat of honor. Rather, the thing to
do is to sit at the lowest place so that you might be honored in the presence
of many when the host invites you to a higher place. Those who seek their own exaltation, Jesus
says, will only find humiliation, while exaltation will be the result of
humility.
Having surely ruffled some feathers
with the guests, Jesus then turned to his host, instructing him not to invite
friends, relatives and other rich associates to a meal. Such activities are often only done in the
hopes of receiving a return invitation. Jesus
tells the man to instead invite the poor, crippled, blind and lame, for a
blessing will be the result of such generosity.
Repayment will not come in the form of return invitations, but will
rather take place at the resurrection of the justified.
Had such an event taken place
within the walls of this house, I would imagine the only sound you would hear
would be the shuffling of nervous feet, and the only sight you would see would
be the tops of the guests’ heads, for all would be looking down, in hopes of
avoiding the glare of the one who spoke such words. I’d imagine the same was true in this house,
and someone, in hopes of breaking such an awkward silence, spoke the words, Anyone who eats bread in God’s Kingdom is
surely blessed!
Rather than let the conversation
move on to something minor, Jesus seized on the opportunity and told yet
another parable, in hopes of making sure that his point was not lost. He told a story of a man who sent out
numerous invitations to a grand party and, when the appointed time arrived,
sent forward a slave to the invitees that all was now ready. Rather than a joyous affirmation of their
desire to attend, however, the slave returned with the news that all had made
excuses for their absence. Some had to
go see land they had bought, while another was busy trying out new oxen. Still another had just been wed! You can imagine the mood of the host when the
news was received—he was downright angry!
Determined to move on with the party, he sent the slave out into the
town and told him to bring in the same group that Jesus had referenced
earlier—the blind and poor, the crippled and the lame. He had planned a lavish feast and had no
desire for an empty house, so the host ordered his slave to compel others to
come in, so that the house may be full and the feast enjoyed. He had spite for the original invitees,
adding to the slave that none of them will enjoy the lavish feast.
What do you have to say to this,
Theophilus? Is this exceedingly generous
or extraordinarily harsh? It hardly
seems polite to offer such stories in the company of one hosting you for
dinner, and yet you say that these stories are done in love. Where is the love in this, Theophilus? Please explain this matter to this uncertain
soul.
Sincerely,
Luke
No comments:
Post a Comment