Helping ordinary people learn to study the Bible
In Matthew 15:21-28, Jesus responds to a needy woman in a manner most of us would consider offensive. He ignores her. He calls her a dog. He denies her request for healing.
How are we to understand Jesus’ words?
At the Gospel Coalition, Jimmy Agan has an excellent article addressing this question and more. Agan models good observation of the text, tracing the flow of thought from one episode to the next, considering the context, and answering interpretive questions from the text.
But who do you say that I am? (Luke 9:20, ESV)
This piercing question follows a simple observation question (“Who do the crowds say that I am?”). Jesus requires his disciples to consider the popular answers (John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the prophets of old) along with the witness of his teaching and life. Jesus presses them to make sense of their observations.
Eric (2005), Creative Commons
Interpretation questions provide an indispensable turning point for small group discussions. Though we must observe well, we must not stop there. Wise leaders challenge people to make sense of observation through vibrant interpretation. Thus, having seen how to ask good observation questions in a small group setting, we are ready to take the next step.
One key idea will help you learn to ask good interpretation questions: Work backwards. Plant your flag on the main point of the passage, review the trail you hiked to get there, and develop questions that will guide your group back to the summit.
Since the chief goal of interpretation is to identify the author’s main point in the passage, we want to lead our groups to that end. Ideally, we want to be able to state the central theme in a single sentence.
Then it is time to work backwards. Which observations were most significant? Which questions directed me to the main point? Which questions were good but tangential? How does the argument of the passage flow from beginning to end? Which highlights will best serve the group?
My small group recently studied Isaiah 25:1-12. I stated the main point of the passage this way:
Praise God, for he will swallow up death, and he gives glimpses of that future reality now.
How did I structure my questions to guide the group toward this idea?
Beginning with the first stanza, Isaiah 25:1–5, I asked observation questions that pointed the group to previous themes in the book—such as the destruction of strong cities—and to repeated words or ideas, like strength (Isaiah 25:2, 3, 4) and the “ruthless” (Isaiah 25:3, 4, 5). I also asked what this stanza teaches about God.
These conversations set us up for the following interpretive questions that led the group to the main point:
Here are some final tips for asking good interpretive questions.
What about you? What have you learned about asking good interpretive questions in a small group?
Because my wife and I just returned from our 10th wedding anniversary extravaganza, I don’t have as much time to write as I’d like. I’m just getting caught up after a 3-day celebratory getaway. But a few reflections are in order.
First, the facts. We enjoy board games, and we decided to celebrate our 10th anniversary by playing at least 10 different games (we ended up having time for 12). We took a few pleasant strolls through the woods, we squeezed in some low maintenance meals, and we had a few hours for reading. But we spent most of the time head-to-head, man vs. woman, each exercising their God-given instincts to bring order and dominion to the cosmos. The age-long battle of the sexes was at stake, and neither of us dropped our guard for even a minute.
Second, the results. Though I found some small consolation in my closing 3-game win streak, Erin won the series 7-5. Ain’t no flies on her! May the world never accuse me of taking advantage of this extraordinarily precocious woman. I, in fact, could barely keep up.
Third, my conclusions. I must improve my observation skills—paying attention to what will get me points and not just what feels like a good move. My presumption too often hinders my interpretation—I spend too many turns trying to block my wife’s presumed strategy and not enough turns developing my own. And courageous application is sweet—games lose their luster when I spend more time thinking than acting. My chronic analysis paralysis sucks out the fun if I’m not careful.
Observe, interpret, apply: This is the essence of communication. Even board games can offer opportunities to stretch these muscles.
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For those interested in such things, here’s what we played (complete with Amazon affiliate links to help support this blog at no extra cost). If you’re in the market for buckets of fun, every one of these games is fantastic.
In Proverbs 9, wisdom has built her house and invites you to her feast. Last week, I argued that the house is Proverbs 1-9 and the feast is Proverbs 10-31. In this post, I’ll show you how to read Proverbs in this way.
Debbi Long (2008), Creative Commons
I can’t exhaust in a short list what Solomon took 9 chapters to explain. But I find a few organizing hooks helpful:
For further explanation of any of these points, see the Proverbs table of contents page.
The key point is this: Godly wisdom always takes place in the context of a relationship with God. Of course we see echoes of God’s wisdom when ungodly people follow his principles. But such wisdom is at best incomplete, and at worst counterfeit.
It will be easier for me to show you than to tell you, so let’s look at the first few verses.
I covered this one last week.
A wrong or incomplete way to read it: Conduct your business with honesty and integrity.
A better way to read it: Though easy money (unjust gain) promises security and community (Prov 1:13-14), it can’t keep those promises. God’s favor is available to those who seek his wisdom; this favor gives life beyond the grave (Prov 8:34-35).
A wrong reading: If I serve God, he’ll make my life prosper.
A better reading: Those who hunger and thirst for God’s righteousness will be satisfied (Prov 2:9). But life on earth often doesn’t go as we expect (Prov 3:11-12).
An incomplete reading: Work hard.
A better reading: This verse is pretty close to Proverbs 6:10-11. We must remember, however, that the chief “diligence” of Proverbs is to get wisdom at all costs (Prov 4:5, 7).
An incomplete reading: Make your parents proud by working hard in the right seasons.
A better reading: We honor our parents when we honor the Lord (Prov 2:1-6), though sometimes parents forget this fact. The Lord’s wisdom gives us a long view that enables us to be self-motivated and seasonally productive (Prov 6:7-8)
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Now I’ll choose a few more verses with a random number generator just to show this way of reading isn’t limited to chapter 10…
An incomplete reading: With wealth comes power. Debt is always a bad idea.
A better reading: Easy money attracts by making possible power over others. It makes sense that those who focus on themselves more than on the Lord would be drawn to both money and power. But there is one Savior for both rich and poor (Prov 6:1-5, 8:32-36).
An incomplete reading: Wisdom in general is good for us. Learning and education make our lives better.
A better reading: Wisdom comes from the Lord (Prov 2:6). Knowing him is good for us and will make our lives better.
An incomplete reading: We should counsel people to make good financial decisions, and we should hold them accountable for poor ones.
A better reading: If someone tries to be the kind of savior that only the Lord can be, we should be careful not to increase his credit limit. Your trust in the Lord may sometimes decrease your trust in those who promise too much.
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In most cases, the “incomplete” reading is not necessarily wrong, just…incomplete. Be careful not to use Proverbs as though God himself is irrelevant. Always remember the context of chapters 1-9.
Discussions of Proverbs 9 often settle on a list of contrasts between the feasts of Wisdom and Folly, and I couldn’t resist beginning my study there. But observing contrasts merely gets us started. Interpretation compels us to ask a “What” question and a “Why” question:
The second question is pretty easy, and we’ve covered it many times: Wisdom offers life (Prov 9:6), while Folly offers death (Prov 9:18). Wisdom seeks our good; Folly seeks no good.
Ron Cogswell (2012), Creative Commons
That answer does us no good, however, unless we have a clear answer to the first question. If Wisdom provides life through her feast, how do we get that life? What is the feast, and when can we start eating? If we get this wrong, we’ll waste our time. We’ll fill up on salad and have no room left for dessert.
We could answer the question by saying, “Wisdom is the feast.” We could support our answer by references to poetry, figurative language, and devices like personification. We’d be careful not to push the imagery too far, and we’d come away believing that wisdom is the feast. Wisdom (poetically personified) invites us to come and partake of (God’s spiritual) wisdom.
And while I’m sure there’s some truth here, I’m unsatisfied by this answer. I find it so abstract and mystical that I’m left feeling hopeless. How do I know if I’m drawing on wisdom’s well deeply enough? How do I know whether it’s changing me? How do I know whether I’m consuming the right supply of nourishment?
And how do I get it? Must I listen to the voices inside my head? Will I feel a peace about it? Will God confirm my choices by making circumstances line up just right?
A better way forward is to observe the passage at hand. We can answer our interpretive questions from the text.
Wisdom has built her house;
she has hewn her seven pillars.
She has slaughtered her beasts;
she has mixed her wine;
she has also set her table.
She has sent out her young women to call
from the highest places in the town,
“Whoever is simple, let him turn in here!”
To him who lacks sense she says,
“Come, eat of my bread
and drink of the wine I have mixed.
Leave your simple ways, and live,
and walk in the way of insight.” (Prov 9:1-6, ESV)
Notice especially how the text gives more space to the feast’s preparation than to the feast itself:
Much work is done before a single simpleton grabs a knife and fork. And I shouldn’t say the work “is” done. Better to say it “has been” done. The verb tenses are no accident.
Let’s zoom out and remember what’s going on. Proverbs 1-9 serves as a long introduction to the book of Proverbs. And chapter 9 is the last section of that long introduction. Reading Proverbs from the beginning, we haven’t yet gotten to any of the book’s meat. Everything so far has been a framing of ideas and a creating of categories. Solomon has been building a foundation upon which the details of chapters 10-31 will make sense.
For example, Proverbs 10:1 (“A wise son makes a glad father, but a foolish son is a sorrow to his mother”) isn’t merely about good relationships that keep one’s parents happy. Solomon plants a single seed in the soil of wisdom’s field, and the soil’s fertility comes from what he’s already said about categories of people, appeals to listen, the blessings of godliness, and the fear of the Lord.
In fact, every verse in Proverbs 10-31 should be read in light of the context established by Proverbs 1-9. I recently saw a review for a book about Proverbs that said:
Although drawn from the Biblical book of Proverbs, it is not a preachy book. Truth is truth, no matter what the source, and you can benefit from this book whether you are “religious” or not.
But this misses the point, does it not? Any advice on money, relationships, business, or leadership drawn from Proverbs must be read in light of wisdom’s beginning: the fear of the Lord. Without a relationship with God, there is no wisdom (Prov 2:6-8)! Any non-religious attempt to apply principles from Proverbs is a counterfeit; it is stolen water and secret bread (Prov 9:17).
My point is this: Wisdom’s feast is the book of Proverbs, especially chapters 10-31. The “house” is Proverbs 1-9. Chapter 9 is the pivot. The house has been built, and you’re invited to the feast. You’re almost ready to dig in.
Though stating the matter tentatively, Bruce Waltke provides no alternatives to this interpretation:
The representation of Wisdom as having built her house and prepared her banquet may represent figuratively the prologue [chapters 1-9] and the Collections [chapters 10-31] respectively. The house (i.e., the introductory prologue) is now finished, and the banquet (i.e., the proverbs of Solomon) is about to begin. Her messengers (i.e., the parents) have been sent to invite the uncommitted and dull youth to eat and drink her sumptuous fare. Their sons are already waiting for Wisdom to open her doors. (The Book of Proverbs: Chapters 1-15, p. 431)
Last week, I drew these four “credentials” for wisdom from Proverbs 8:22-31:
In this chapter, Solomon praises God’s wisdom to motivate us to pursue it. Since wisdom can deliver what it promises, we’d be foolish not to chase it.
Before I move into more specific application from these points, I’d like to reflect on the connection between this wisdom and the Lord Jesus. This case presents a helpful example of how to see Jesus in any passage.
Proverbs 8 provides a mine field for Christ-centered interpretation because it’s been so often misused. Because of the potential for misuse, many interpreters try to distance Jesus from this passage altogether.
“Baptistery.Arians06” by Georges Jansoone
Here’s the problem: In the third century, a heretic named Arius came to prominence with his teaching that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, did not always exist. According to Arius, Jesus was subordinate to God the Father because God had created him. Arius and his followers put much stock in verses like “The Father is greater than I” (John 14:28) and in biblical phrases like “the only begotten Son” (John 3:16) or “the firstborn of all creation” (Col 1:15). If he was begotten—the thinking goes—there must have been a time before he was begotten.
Arianism saw clear parallels between Jesus and Proverbs 8, since “all things were made through him” (John 1:3) and “when he established the heavens I was there” (Prov 8:27). If God created everything by his Word, and the Word is Jesus, and Jesus made everything—then Solomon’s declarations about wisdom’s creative work in Proverbs 8 must be about Jesus.
And so Prov 8:22 became a key verse for the Arian cause: “The LORD possessed me at the beginning of his work.” Some early Bible manuscripts use a word for possessed that could be translated as created, and the Arians had a field day with it. Proverbs 8 is about Jesus→Proverbs 8 says wisdom was created→Jesus must have been created. The links in the chain appear to hold tight.
Far from being an obscure 3rd century problem, Arianism remains alive and well. Some of its most populous adherents include many Unitarians and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons). Leland Ryken also cites a tract from the Jehovah’s Witnesses that make this very argument from Proverbs 8.
Thus Christian interpreters, careful to guard against the dangers of Arianism, sometimes hesitate to acknowledge any connection between Proverbs 8 and Jesus. Proverbs 8 speaks of wisdom→The New Testament speaks of Jesus→Reading Jesus back into Proverbs 8 does violence to the text. By separating the person of Jesus from the personification of wisdom, they avoid the potential Arian problem.
However, there is a problem with making too sharp of a distinction between Proverbs and Jesus: We can’t deny that Jesus believed all the Old Testament was about him (Luke 24:44-46). Paul considered Jesus our wisdom from God (1 Cor 1:30). And, well, Jesus was present at the creation as a master workman, just like wisdom (John 1:1-3).
In addition, if you review the four conclusions with which I began this post, connections to Jesus should pop out.
We could support all four of these statements from the New Testament. That doesn’t mean, however, that we must say Jesus was created (Prov 8:22 – even if “created” is the best translation).
My point is this: Proverbs 8 doesn’t have to be an exact, direct prediction about Jesus in order for it to be about Jesus. If you want to see Jesus in the Old Testament, first discover the author’s main point (in this case, wisdom’s four credentials). Then connect the main point to Jesus. It’s okay if not all the details match up exactly.
Jesus read and studied the Bible, just as you and I do. He observed, interpreted, and applied the main points of each passage, just as you and I work to do.
One difference between Jesus and us, however, is that Jesus knew the entire Old Testament was written both to him and about him.
Nick Batzig, writing at the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals, lists 10 implications of this fact in his recent article “How Did Jesus Read the Old Testament?” Batzig admits these are not the only 10 implications, but they get us started.
This man, Jesus, understood the fulness of God’s revelation, and he bore the weight of fulfilling it. He did it so we might know him and have eternal life.
Batzig’s article explains each point in further detail. I commend it to you that you might grow in amazement and thanks for your marvelous Redeemer and King.
I’ve seen this movie a million times. Not this exact film, of course, but many like it. O Disney, how you love your clichés; let me count the ways:
The movie’s action turns on the declaration that “only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart.” Upon hearing such drivel, I begin preparing an agenda for discussion. I think, My daughter—mesmerized by her first theatrical experience—must learn to see through these lies. I’m glad we came, for it will be a good exercise in discernment.
However, something shifted. I need to see the movie again to remember exactly when and how it shifted, but the shift was clear. The seeds of drivel sown throughout the movie never bore fruit. In fact, those seeds were trampled on, dug up, and burned in the fire (or should I say frostbitten and discarded?).
Everything got turned on its head and flipped around, such that infatuation proved unsatisfying, self-indulgence had to cease, and true love required personal sacrifice.
Now here is something to celebrate.
I could write about the Bible’s message of true love—the sacrifice of the only innocent one, who thaws our frozen hearts and restores us into God’s royal family—but I don’t want to give away any detailed plot spoilers from the movie. (I recommend this excellent reflection on Frozen by my friend Sarah Monticue.)
I could write about the bankruptcy of self-actualization, but it’s way too easy a target.
Instead, I’ll write about how Frozen reminded me not to presume an interpretation simply because I’ve observed something familiar.
The clichés were familiar. The message was familiar. The cinematic devices were familiar. The movie’s direction seemed familiar.
This familiarity led me to presume the movie’s main point. I was preparing to rebut the message of inward sovereignty and misdirected authenticity. But if I had stopped watching and hearing, I could have missed the film’s true intention.
So it is with the Bible. The more we read and study, the more likely we are to find ourselves in familiar territory.
And such familiarity comes at great risk. We presume to know what we’re reading. “I know that story,” “I’ll skim the part I’ve been through before,” and “I understand this; it’s time to move on” all put us in danger of missing the point. And since the point is to know Jesus better, I presume we won’t want to miss the point.
“Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it” (Heb 2:1, ESV).
I notice this danger when I read emails or blogs or books that quote Scripture. I often skip the quotation (since I’m familiar with the Bible already) and dedicate my attention to what’s new (what this person wrote about the quote). The more I notice myself doing it, the more I realize the frequency with which I do it.
And I’ve realized that I do it in my Bible reading as well. As soon as I hit the familiar parts, I fly through them to get to something more innovative and exciting.
We must be aware of this tendency so we can resist it. Let’s master observation so we can perpetually build on what we know, but without presuming that there’s nothing more to learn. Let’s learn not only to see but to observe.
One thing that helps me to fight deadening familiarity is to read a different translation each year. Also, I like switching Bibles from time to time, so a familiar text isn’t on the same part of the page. But not everyone is like me. What do you find helpful in resisting familiarity and presumption in Bible study?
Perhaps you find my advice a bit cold, as though I would prefer unfamiliarity over familiarity. Please know that I’m arguing not for ignorance but for careful observation.
And, well, the cold never bothered me anyway.
Why did Jesus feed the 5,000?
Each Gospel writer gives a different answer. In this post, I’ll unpack Mark’s account. I’ll start wide before zooming in on the passage.
In one sense, Mark’s Gospel is the simplest Gospel. It’s the shortest. It’s a to-the-point Gospel. It’s a matter-of-fact Gospel.
Sean MacEntee (2011), Creative Commons
In Mark, there’s much more doing than teaching, which is great for those readers who find Jesus’ teaching confusing. The action comes fast (notice the repetition of “immediately” in Mark 1:10, 12, 18, 20, 21, 23, 28, 29, 30, etc.) and hard (people respond strongly: Mark 1:20, 26, 27, 28, 45, etc.).
In another sense, however, Mark is challenging to interpret because he does more showing than telling. His rarely states his point explicitly. For example, compare Mark 8:14-21 with Matthew 16:5-12. Matthew and Mark tell of the same conversation, but only Matthew writes a narrative conclusion for the episode (Matt 16:12). Mark leaves the narrative open, and we must infer Mark’s conclusion from the context and flow of thought.
Mark sneaks his points into the order of events far more subtly than the other Gospel writers do. Interestingly, however, Mark’s versions of parallel episodes usually have more narrative detail than either Matthew or Luke. For example, Matthew and Luke each take only 8 verses to recount the feeding of the 5,000, but Mark stretches the tale to 15 verses. (John gives it 64 verses, but remember that much of that is dedicated to the debate surrounding Jesus’ identity. The feeding itself gets 14 verses in John’s account.)
My point is this: When Matthew, Luke, or John have a point to make, they usually say it. When Mark has a point to make, he prefers to show it.
Mark structures his action-oriented Gospel around the works of Jesus. In the first half of the book, those works involve healing and calling disciples. In the second half, they involve preparing for his death (and, of course, dying).
Early on, Jesus calls four disciples and heals four people (Mark 1:16-2:12). Then he calls one and heals one (Mark 2:13-3:12). Along the way, he establishes his authority over sickness, the Sabbath, the unclean spirits, the forgiveness of sin, and the Jewish traditions.
Then he appoints 12 apostles, redefines his family, and praises those who show faith (Mark 3:13-6:6). He shows what sort of people—those of faith—will comprise his new kingdom.
Then he sends out his duly appointed kingdom representatives. When they return, they struggle to keep the faith they began with, but Jesus will not let them go. He can heal their blindness and make them useful in his kingdom (Mark 6:7-8:30).
Once they get it (Mark 8:29: “You are the Christ”), Mark launches into Part 2 of the book, designed to show them—and us—what sort of Christ Jesus is. This Messiah will usher in God’s new kingdom by his death; his followers must also trod the way of the cross as they come after him.
Here’s an outline:
Introduction: the Kingdom’s call is to repent and believe the gospel—Mark 1:1-15
I. Establishing the Kingdom—Mark 1-8
A. Jesus establishes his authority—Mark 1:16-3:12
B. Jesus assembles his new people—Mark 3:13-6:6
C. Jesus help his people understand his authority—Mark 6:7-8:30
II. Securing the Kingdom—Mark 9-26
A. Jesus prepares to die, calling his followers to die as well—Mark 8:31-10:52
B. Jesus’ kingdom will displace Israel’s kingdom—Mark 11:1-14:11
C. Jesus dies and is crowned king—Mark 14:12-16:20
The feeding of 5,000 occurs in Mark 6:30-44. The disciples are fresh off a successful preaching tour, packed with exorcisms and miracles of healing (Mark 6:12-13), and they’re exhausted (Mark 6:31). Readers sense a hint of doom, however, as they remember the fate of last one to preach God’s word powerfully (Mark 6:14-29). Will these twelve apostles likewise donate their heads to the hors d’oeuvre platter?
Jesus already gave them the key to his kingdom: “If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear…Pay attention to what you hear: With the measure you use, it will be measured to you, and still more will be added to you. For to the one who has, more will be given, and from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away” (Mark 4:23-25, ESV). They must listen and respond with faith. If they have ears to hear, they will be given more. If they stop listening, they’ll lose whatever momentum they once had. Such is how the kingdom works.
So they go off with Jesus to find a quiet rest (Mark 6:32), but many recognize them and run to meet them (Mark 6:33).
Jesus has compassion for those who seek him. Sheep in need of a shepherd win his heart every time (Mark 6:34). But those who don’t think they need shepherding should be wary.
The disciples endure the change of plans for a day, but by evening they’re ready to send folks away to buy their own food (Mark 6:35-36). Will the disciples pay attention to all Jesus has shown them about his kingdom authority? “You give them something to eat” (Mark 6:37).
Their answer: “Shall we go and buy 200 denarii worth of bread [everything we have] and give it to them to eat?” (Mark 6:37).
Uh oh. They’re in danger of losing what they had…
“How many loaves do you have? Go and see.” Jesus won’t make them into martyrs just yet. All he wants for now is the first five loaves and two fish (Mark 6:38).
Then Jesus shows his tremendous authority over the elements, commanding the sheep to sit in green grass (remember Psalm 23:1-2), dividing them into groups of hundreds and fifties (like Israel in Ex 18:25, etc.), blessing, breaking, and giving. Jesus gives and gives what he has until all eat and are satisfied. They end up with twelve baskets full of broken pieces (Mark 6:39-44).
The full beauty of Mark’s account lies in the flow of the entire section.
Jesus feeds a multitude (Mark 6:30-44), crosses the sea (Mark 6:45-52), corrects the Pharisees (Mark 7:1-23), dialogues about bread (Mark 7:24-30), and heals a sensory problem (Mark 7:31-37). The section climaxes with a confession of Jesus’ authority: “He has done all things well. He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak” (Mark 7:37). Terrific, but can he work such miracles on the disciples?
Next, Jesus does it all again: feeding (Mark 8:1-9), crossing (Mark 8:10), correcting (Mark 8:11-13), dialoguing (Mark 8:14-21), and healing (Mark 8:22-26).
That last healing occurs in two stages (a picture of these two cycles of events in Mark 6-8) and results in the disciples finally understanding who Jesus is: “You are the Christ.”
Jesus healed their blindness! They’re not worthy of him, but he has kingly compassion anyway. What grace! Such grace will lead them to lay down their lives with him (Mark 8:31-37).
The point of the story (according to Mark) is this: When Jesus is your king, he will transform your selfish faithlessness into compassionate self-sacrifice.
It’s okay if you’re not perfectly selfless yet. It’s even okay if you don’t have as much compassion as Jesus has for his sheep. If you follow him, he’ll get you to where he wants you to be. He’ll give you the faith you need to lay down your life for him. His kingly authority is transformative.
Why did Jesus feed the 5,000?
Each Gospel writer gives a different answer. In this post, I’ll unpack Luke’s account. I’ll start wide before zooming in on the passage.
Ron Cogswell (2012), Creative Commons
Luke writes his Gospel to give an “orderly account” of “all that Jesus began to do and teach” so a man named Theophilus could be certain about what he had been taught (Luke 1:1-4, Acts 1:1-2).
A few themes distinguish Luke’s Gospel, especially in contrast to Matthew and Mark:
These themes are not absent from the other Gospels; they’re just given greater prominence in Luke.
Luke orders his account of Jesus’ life around (primarily) geographic divisions:
Because the feeding of the 5,000 occurs in Luke 9:10-17, this post will focus on the Galilean section of Luke.
Notice how Jesus’ ministry in Galilee unfolds. First, Jesus preaches the good news of the kingdom of God on his own, gathering his disciples along the way (Luke 4:43). Second, he proclaims the good news of the kingdom, being more intentional about incorporating his disciples in the work (Luke 8:1). Third, he gives the disciples much opportunity to do the work themselves under his oversight (Luke 9:2).
At the end of the section, however, they are unable to:
These disciples must learn the way of the cross before they’ll be ready to build the Kingdom. So Jesus sets his face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51), and the next 10 chapters illustrate Jesus’ immovable commitment to go and die for the sins of the people.
Before we look at the feeding episode in detail, we should understand Luke’s summary of the entire Galilean ministry. Luke’s introductory scene sets the stage for all that follows:
And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he stood up to read. And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written,
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. And he began to say to them, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” (Luke 4:16-21, ESV)
Time slows as Luke draws out the tale: standing up, receiving the scroll, unrolling it, finding just the right spot, reading, rolling it up, handing it back, and sitting down. Eyes glued. Scripture fulfilled.
According to Luke, Jesus’ ministry is one of proclaiming good news to the poor. He brings liberty, sight, freedom, and favor to the captive, blind, oppressed, and miserable. Jesus chose that passage from Isaiah to describe his work. Luke chose that scene from Jesus’ life to describe God’s purpose in Christ.
Jesus’ work in Galilee—and his inclusion of the disciples in that work—is focused on bringing good news to the poor.
Like Matthew, Luke shows Jesus instructing the disciples in the preaching of the word of God (Luke 8:1-14). But Luke doesn’t focus on the word nearly as much as Matthew does. In the third Galilean tour, Luke gives a more complementary twofold commission “to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal” (Luke 9:2).
As they proclaim and heal, the disciples must take no provisions. They must learn to rely on the hospitality of those who will receive the kingdom (Luke 9:3-6).
As they preach, Herod the tetrarch hears of it and feels some guilt over his oppression of the captive John (Luke 9:7-8). He wants to see Jesus (Luke 9:9), but not so he may worship him (Luke 23:8-11).
On their return from proclaiming and healing, the apostles make a report, and Jesus withdraws with them to Bethsaida (Luke 9:10). The crowds follow, and Jesus welcomes them. He again models for the disciples the twofold ministry: “He spoke to them of the kingdom of God and cured those who had need of healing” (Luke 9:11).
Though Luke’s account of the feeding is very similar to Matthew’s account, be careful not to sidetrack interpretation by harmonizing them. Notice a few subtle differences that highlight Luke’s unique purpose.
The disciples’ solution to overcrowding:
Jesus’ alternative proposal:
The disciples’ indignation:
Jesus’ hospitality:
While Matthew’s account focuses on the crowd’s real need (not just food but the word of God), Luke’s account focuses on the idea of hospitality. The crowd needs not just food but lodging. The disciples are unwilling to be hosts for such a crowd. Jesus directly plays the role of host: speaking, instructing the disciples, and shepherding the people into smaller groups.
With the feeding of the 5,000, Luke isn’t focused on Jesus’ identity as the Son of God (as John is). He’s also not focused on training the disciples to preach the word (as Matthew is). He’s more interested in showing Jesus’ benevolent hospitality to the poor and hungry masses.
The point of the story is this: Jesus’ followers, on mission from their master, must learn not only to accept hospitality but give it in Jesus’ name. Such hospitality will be both lavish (Luke 9:17) and costly (Luke 9:13b). This good news of the kingdom is not only for the wealthy, the successful, the happy, the Jews. It’s for those who are down and out, oppressed, captive, blind, marginalized, and hungry. And the message of the Kingdom must be illustrated visibly by the Kingdom’s messengers.
Question: This week, how can you be lavishly hospitable to the poor who might be ready to follow Jesus?
