Day 24: From Jericho to Jerusalem

Before Jesus rides into Jerusalem to begin Holy Week, he goes through Jericho, where he meets a short tax collector named Zacchaeus, who is not only short, but universally disliked by everyone else in town (probably becomes of what he does for a living). Zacchaeus wants to see Jesus so badly that he climbs a tree, and Jesus surprises evveryone by inviting himself over to Zacchaeus' house for dinner. I mean, really! Why couldn't Jesus have gone to the house of one of the deserving people!!!

Zacchaeus responds by offering to give half of his possesssions to the poor, and offering to repay what he has cheated four times. He must not consider money quite as important as he once did. Or perhaps he thinks that now he is rich, but in a different way....

The following parable (which is similar to Matthew's Parable of the Talents) also deals with money. Where Zacchaeus distributes his money to the poor (redistribution of wealth), the parable ends by stating that 'everyone who has will be given more, but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.' This is a scripture verse I've had a problem with since hearing Billie Holiday sing, "God Bless the Child." It seems to fly in the face of the extravagant grace-giving God that I encounter in other portions of scripture. I'm doing a little background study, and I'll get back to you. In the meantime, anyone who has an idea about this verse, let me know.

Jesus enters Jerusalem then, to cheering crowds and grumbling Pharisees. He weeps over Jerusalem, and then clears the temple. The house of prayer has become (in my version of the Bible) a house for crooks.

In Jerusalem, Jesus gets right into controversies, with Pharisees, Saducees and other legal experts. We have heard this before, and how he figures out how to answer every question, and confounds them all. He also tells the story of the tenant farmers who reject the son of the owner of the vineyard as well as all of the messengers he had sent before.

The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone, Jesus quotes Psalm 118. A fitting entry to the next few days.

Day 9: The End of the Parables, the Beginning of the Passion

The Parable of the wise and foolish virgins, the parable of the talents, the parable of the sheep and the goats:  all of Matthew chapter 25 is taken up with these stories.  The last of the three is the most well known: sheep and goats standing before the King at the end of time, judged and separated by how they treated the hungry and homeless, the imprisoned and the stranger.  As you have done (or not done) it to the least of these, so you have done it to me. 

It's almost a little too easy to draw moral lessons from the parable of the talents.  "Use your talents -- or else!" the story seems to shout. And it is hard not to feel sorry for that poor third servant, who loses is one measly talent, and wonder what kind of a master he has.  But remember it's a parable, which means it defies easy explanations, and works on us in strange ways.  Remember that a talent really is money, and that one talent is actually quite a lot of money.  Remember that the harsh words the servant has for his master -- they aren't necessarily a true description of the Master.  But it's what the servant believes.    Every time I read this particular parable, I am offended, frightened, and I also see something new:  perhaps today I heard something about what I trust, and am willing to risk.  Maybe yesterday I considered the question, "What if it the gospel itself that is being buried, not shared, hidden in the ground, or within the walls of our churches?"

The story of the suffering and death of Jesus begins immediately after these three parables, with events well known, and a few details we may not have noticed.  There is the woman who anoints Jesus' head, and his words that everyone would remember her action.  There is the plot by Judas, immediately followed by Jesus sharing the Passover with his disciples.

There is the prediction of betrayal, the prayer in the garden, disciples falling asleep, the soldiers coming, and Jesus' words that if he asked, his Father would send legions of angels.  But he will not ask.

There's the trial, where the Pharisees have trouble finding someone who will testify against Jesus.  But, finally they do.

And, at the end of chapter 26, the prediction is fulfilled:  Peter denies his friend and his Teacher.

Until tomorrow, friends. 

Just how well do you know this story, the story of Jesus' suffering and death?  Were there any details that seemed new to you as you read today?

Which of the three parables in chapter 25 is most challenging for you?  Why do you suppose they are all together in chapter 25?  (It is almost as if Jesus disappears inside the parables in chapter 25, only to re-emerge at the beginning of chapter 26.)

Day 8: The Plot, and the Parables, Thicken (Chapters 22-24)

You know how it's getting worse with the religious leaders?  The middle of these three chapters is devoted to a long and passionate harangue against the hypocrisy of those who lead others, who put heavy religious obligations on others, but (in Jesus' view) do not follow their own teachings.    In some versions, this chapter contains this phrase, over and over, "Woe to you!" 

The most vivid of Jesus' sayings in this chapter is the one that describes the Pharisees as a cup whose outside has been cleaned and shiny, but who, on the inside, keep getting dirtier and dirtier.   I have to wonder:  were the Pharisees all really this evil?  What is going on?  (I am considering Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, both religious leaders themselves who appeared to be friends of Jesus, though they are featured in another Gospel.)

I can't help but think of these as angry words of Jesus, which does (I can't help it) make me think back on Jesus' words in the Sermon on the Mount:  "Everyone who is angry with their brother or sister will be in danger of judgment."  Hmmmm.

In chapter 22, is the first of three parables of judgment:  the wedding banquet.  On the one hand, there is the king who sends a gracious invitation to a huge and wonderful party.  Why would anyone not come?  Then, on the hand, there is the inexplicable indifference and hostility of the intended guests (killing the messengers?  Isn't this a little over the top?)  And then there is the terrible reaction of the king.  Then again, there is the great scene of the servants going out and calling EVERYONE -- good and evil, to come to the wedding banquet.  No checking to see who is acceptable and who is not.  But then there is the one poor soul without wedding clothes.  Good news?  Bad news?  pick your verse.

And chapter 24 is a small sample of what we call apocalyptic writing:  Jesus warning people about what will happen at the end of times.  There are wars and rumors of wars, visions and images of fear and destruction.  And though many people have tried to name the day and the hour, "nobody knows when that day or hour will come, not the heavenly angels and not the Son.  Only the father knows."   Still, it seems that we are fascinated with trying to figure it out.  Why?

Two things to think about when we read chapter 24: 1) the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 A.D. probably seemed like the beginning of the end of times to many of the early Christians, and 2) soon will be the day and hour of the destruction of Jesus' body on the cross.

Day 7: Coming into Jerusalem (Matthew 19-21)

By the end of Matthew, chapter 21, Jesus has entered Jerusalem.  He's still speaking in parables, but (it seems to me) they are becoming more urgent.  In the next couple of days, as you read Jesus' parables, imagine the cross in the background.  We are only a few days away. 

Theologian Robert Farar Capon calls the upcoming parables "The Parables of Judgment."  The parables we heard earlier, in Matthew chapter 13, are parables of the Kingdom. (Because they all start with the words, "the Kingdom of heaven is like...").  I'm not sure we can divide them all so neatly, but as you read ahead, and perhaps consider what you are reading to be harsh and difficult, remember that others have wrestled with the same thoughts.

I couldn't help thinking about the juxtaposition between the familiar and the odd in these passages of Scripture.  Despite the fact that I have preached on the Gospel of Matthew for several years now (but who's counting), the verses about being eunuch for the Kingdom of God still sounds foreign to me.  Does Jesus mean more than those who are either voluntarily or involuntarily celibate?  What do you think?

There's the familiar story about the rich young man who asks Jesus what he must do to be saved?  Give all you have to the poor, Jesus says.  The young man goes away sad.  But somehow I am not as familiar with Peter's exchange with Jesus, "Lord, we've given up everything for you?  What are we going to get?" and Jesus' answer, "In my kingdom you will sit on twelve thrones and receive back one hundred-fold everything you gave up."  Well, then.  (I thought I remembered that Jesus also promises persecutions, but that must be in another Gospel.  Let's watch for that one, later.)

It sort of makes more sense when the mother of James and John tries to secure the best seats for her sons, a little later.

The parable of the tenants who worked all day and the ones who worked for one hour:  is it a parable of generosity?  or a parable of unfairness?

YES.

There is more teaching and less healing going on, now, although Jesus does stop to heal two blind men who ask him.  But it's worth noting that the action is far more skewed toward teaching than to healing.

Then Jesus rides into Jerusalem, heals people, cleanses the temple, hears the praises of children, angers the religious leaders.  (This is getting worse and worse.)

He curses the fig tree, which seems to me the opposite of healing. 

We close with two parables.  The less familiar of the two is the story of two sons, one who says he will obey his father, and then goes out and does whatever he wants.  The second who publicly disrespects his father, and then later goes and does what his father wants.  Which would you want as your son? 

Jesus makes it sound like a no-brainer, but actually in a culture that values honor, being publicly disrespected by your children (even though secretly obeyed) is not a very attractive option. 

As you read through Matthew now, what sort of picture of Jesus do you have?  What adjectives would you use to describe him?  What attracts you to Jesus?  What might give you pause about him?

Do you think you would follow him?

Day 5: Parables, miracles, feeding 9,000 with crumbs left over

All right:  does anyone besides me have trouble with this:  At the opening of Matthew 13, Jesus tells his followers that he speaks in parables so that people will not understand him (vss. 10-15).  And at the end of Matthew 13, Jesus tell his disciples that he speaks in parables so that he will "declare what has been hidden since the beginning of the world." (vs. 35.)

So, which is it?  Does a parable reveal what has long been hidden?  Or does it create a greater mystery?  Or, could it be a little of both?

There are the long extended parables of the sower and of the weeds, and loads of short, short parables:  of the mustard seed, the yeast, the treasure hidden in a field, the net full of fish.  I can tell you that each and every one of those parables says way more than you would think, at first.  Take that mustard seed, for example.  It seems clear enough, right?  The tiniest seed will become a mighty tree; that is what the kingdom of heaven is about.  But consider this:  if you were someone who knew what a mustard plant (not tree, exactly) looked like, and you told them that birds of the air would be able to take shelter in the branches of this bush, they would find that to be an extremely funny joke.  Besides this:  the mustard plant was considered a sort of a weed, a plant you did not want taking over your yard.

There is something subversive about a parable.

Then there is the story about Jesus and Peter, walking on water.  Perhaps inexplicably, this is one of my favorite gospel stories.  The set up is that after Jesus learns of John the Baptist's death, he goes away to pray and to grieve, and sends the disciples ahead of him out on the Sea of Galilee.  Then are alone in the boat when a storm comes up, and the wind is against them.  In that eerie dark time of night just before dawn he comes walking toward them on the water.  Peter (who emerges here as one of Jesus' "star" disciples) decides that it would be a good idea for him to walk on water, too.  And he does, too, for who knows how long, perhaps just a moment, before he begins to sink, and cries out, "Lord save me!"

To me, this story is a sort of parable:  it is the shape of the Christian life.   Dying and rising, taking a risk and failing, taking a risk and succeeding, every day saying, "Lord, save me".  That's it for me.  Being a Christian is about getting in over my head. 

What about you?

Then there are the stories about the two feedings.  Did you know that Jesus feeds 5,000, and then later feeds 4,000?  Do you consider that odd?  The first feeding is on one side of the sea of Galilee, among the Jews, and the second feeding is on the other side of the sea, in Gentile territory.  (One of the verses that sticks out for me in the first story:  Jesus telling the disciples, "You give them something to eat."  Like the disciples are supposed to figure out how to get enough food to feed 5,000 people.)

And in between these two feeding stories is Jesus' harsh encounter with a Gentile woman who has to beg for Jesus to heal her daughter.

Jesus calls her a dog.

All she wants is a few crumbs.

The kingdom of heaven is like.... a woman who loves her daughter so much that she is willing to be called a dog to get what she needs, a few crumbs.

The kingdom of heaven is like.....