Luke | Knowable Word

How the Parable of the Ten Minas is Different Than the Parable of the Talents

August 7, 2020 By Peter Krol

Last week I observed a few things and asked a few questions about whether the parable of the ten minas (Luke 19:11-27) might have a different point than the parable of the talents (Matt 25:14-30). I’ve already discussed how Matthew’s parable fits into the context of the author’s larger argument. This week, I’ll walk through Luke’s train of thought to show how different his point is from Matthew’s.

I’ve already written on the main point of Luke’s gospel as a whole and on how to navigate its middle chapters (Luke 9:51-19:27). To save space here, I won’t repeat what I wrote there, but will assume you have caught up on that background.

By Andrey Mironov – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0

Placement

The first thing I’ll point out is that the parable of the ten minas is the very last thing in Luke’s travel narrative. The very next episode has Jesus going up into Jerusalem on the back of a colt. So this parable concludes not only the fourth sub-section, which focuses on the timing of the kingdom—when will these things regarding the kingdom take place? It also concludes the entire travelogue. This parable is the capstone and climax of Luke’s meandering description of life in Jesus’ new kingdom.

The Question on the Table

In this fourth division of the travel narrative, the presenting question is “When will the kingdom of God come?” (Luke 17:20). And Jesus clearly responded that it “is in the midst of you” (Luke 17:21). I understand that the translation of that last phrase is hotly debated, but regardless of the variety of options, all suggest that the kingdom is here and now. It is tangible and present. Jesus goes on to suggest that, if you can’t see it now, you will not be able to see it in the future either (Luke 17:22). Though there are signs and suggestions for then (Luke 17:23-24), make absolutely sure you don’t miss the significance of what is taking place now (Luke 17:25).

So Jesus tells them how to prepare for it (Luke 18:1-8). He executes the admission and dismissal of its citizens (Luke 18:9-17). He paints a picture of the current behaviors of those who look ahead to eternal life (Luke 18:18-30).

So in short, Jesus acknowledges that there is surely something yet to come. But in this section of Luke, he resists the impulse to direct people’s gaze to the horizon. He’s redrawing their attention to the here and now.

A View of What’s Happening Today

Then in Luke 18:31, Jesus claims, on the way to Jerusalem, that “everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished.” This includes being delivered to the Gentiles, mocked, treated shamefully, spit upon, flogged, killed, and resurrected. The disciples simply can’t see it, however (Luke 18:34).

But a blind man can see it. Though his eyes cannot yet see, the eyes of his heart can see the Son of David (heir to the throne) passing by right in front of him (Luke 18:35-43). And astonishingly, Jericho’s chief tax collector wants to see it (Luke 19:3).

The sight of Jesus changes Zacchaeus forever. One greeting, a meal at his home, and a modicum of reflection was all he needed to turn his life around (Luke 19:8). This demonstration of repentance (compare with Luke 3:12-13) provokes Jesus to make a shocking declaration: “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:9-10).

Jesus spoke all about feasting with Abraham in the kingdom (Luke 13:28-30). Those who cannot recognize the master of the house of Israel will likewise go unrecognized by him (Luke 13:24-27). And here he is, in flesh and blood. He grants sight to the blind and calls Zacchaeus by name.

Here now is the “salvation” he’s been talking about through the entire book. That “salvation” is the fruit of the kingdom, which is currently present among them. The Son of Man seeks the lost, just like a shepherd with a lost sheep, a woman with a lost coin, and a father with a lost son (Luke 15:1-32). Now that salvation has come today on the unlikeliest of candidates. That fact is what spurs the people’s anticipation that the kingdom of God will appear when Jesus gets to Jerusalem (Luke 19:11).

The air is electric, and energy is at an all-time high. They wonder if this is it, if this is what they’ve been waiting for. If salvation is really present, right in front of them, embodied as a rabbi from Nazareth who has an awful lot to say about the way things ought to be.

The Prophets

And let’s not forget what the prophets had to say about this moment in history. Jesus said the prophets would be fulfilled as he came to Jerusalem (Luke 18:31).

“Behold, I send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before me. And the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple; and the messenger of the covenant in whom you delight, behold, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap…
“Then I will draw near to you for judgment. I will be a swift witness against the sorcerers, against the adulterers, against those who swear falsely, against those who oppress the hired worker in his wages, the widow and the fatherless, against those who thrust aside the sojourner, and do not fear me, says the Lord of hosts.”
Malachi 3:1-5

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!
Behold, your king is coming to you;
righteous and having salvation is he,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey…
“My anger is hot against the shepherds,
and I will punish the leaders;
for the Lord of hosts cares for his flock, the house of Judah,
and will make them like his majestic steed in battle.
“I will strengthen the house of Judah,
and I will save the house of Joseph.
I will bring them back because I have compassion on them,
and they shall be as though I had not rejected them,
for I am the Lord their God and I will answer them.
Zechariah 9:9-10:12

So when Luke brings the travel narrative to an end by having Jesus tell a parable about a God, the divine King, returning to inspect his people and temple to bring judgment on the shepherds of Israel—the words are loaded with centuries of anticipation. Who can stand before him when he appears?

It is no coincidence that the first thing Jesus does in Jerusalem is inspect the temple (Luke 19:45-46).

Judgment Falls on This Generation

Luke has spared no expense to tell Theophilus that Jesus sat in judgment over his contemporary generation of Jewish leadership. He pronounces judgment on them time and again. This judgment is something in the future, yet to come. But it will not be long. It will take place within the current generation’s lifetime (Luke 11:49-51; 12:42-48; 13:3, 5, 9, 28, 34-35).

Subsequent to the parable of the minas, Jesus will continue presenting himself in the spirit and power of the prophets, proclaiming condemnation on the corrupt shepherds of Israel (Luke 19:41-44; 21:32). Like Jeremiah, he weeps over the fate of his generation. Like Isaiah, he describes political and social upheaval by means of apocalyptic language and cosmic metaphors.

Conclusion

So where does this data lead? I believe we have good reason to read the parable of the talents primarily as a description of the judgment that will take place at Jesus’ second coming (“That day”: Matt 24:36-25:46). The parable of the talents seems to direct our attention to “that day,” when humanity will be sorted for either eternal punishment or eternal life (Matt 25:46).

But the parable of the ten minas hits much closer. In context, it appears that Jesus speaks primarily of his first coming and what is about to happen to and through him at Jerusalem. The reckoning has come for the Jewish nation and its leaders. Those who have been serving faithfully, and who recognize their master, will be rewarded with cities (Luke 19:17-18). Those who have not, and who do not, will either have their deposit taken from them (Luke 19:24) or face the executioner’s sword (Luke 19:27).

For those reading this who are immigrants to the covenants of promise (Gentiles) and not natural-born citizens (Jews): Do not become proud. For if God was willing to wipe out a generation to make room for the Gentiles to enter, will he not do the same thing with another generation who presumes upon his kindness and drifts from loyalty to him (Rom 11:17-24)? Though the parable speaks primarily about something that’s already occurred (Jesus’ first coming), it still has serious and sobering ramifications for those who would serve the King in any generation.

The Reckoning of the Minas

July 31, 2020 By Peter Krol

Have you heard the parable of the ten minas (Luke 19:11-27)? It’s sort of the creepy, leering uncle to the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30). I say that because it seems sensible enough for the most part, but it has those quirky parts that would never make it into the children’s Bibles.

But as for these enemies of mine, who did not want me to reign over them, bring them here and slaughter them before me.
Luke 19:27

For the bulk of my Bible-reading life, I’ve assumed the parable of the minas was just a repetition of the parable of the talents that somehow lost a few things in transmission. It has ten servants instead of three. Each is given one coin, instead of differing amounts. And, of course, those citizens don’t want the guy to be their king, so he has them executed.

But for a number of years now, I’ve argued that we ought to understand such parallel passages on their own, within their own context. Perhaps these two parables really have different things to say to different audiences. So in my current study of Luke, I gave this one a fresh shot.

The Question of When

And now I arrive at my second assumption with respect to this parable. Because of my first assumption (that it’s basically the same as the parable of the talents), I’ve always assumed that it speaks of Jesus’ second coming and the future judgment of humanity.

A nobleman went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom and then return.
Luke 19:12

It seems so self-evident:

As they heard these things, he proceeded to tell a parable, because he was near to Jerusalem, and because they supposed that the kingdom of God was to appear immediately.
Luke 19:11

They supposed the kingdom of God was to appear immediately, and they were mistaken. So he tells them this parable to inform them of the great delay that must take place before his return. Easy peasy.

But hold on. Luke doesn’t say that they were mistaken. He doesn’t say, either, that Jesus aims to correct them. What if he told the parable not to correct their mistake, but to affirm the fact that they’ve finally started listening to him (see, for example, Luke 17:21)? Maybe it’s not the timing of the kingdom that they’re wrong about, but the nature of it. That, in other words, though it will appear immediately, it will not bring good news for most of them. The time has arrived for a reckoning.

Help from the Context

From the first phrase of Luke 19:11, we must ask: “What things did they hear, which prompted their enthusiasm for the kingdom’s appearance when he got to Jerusalem?” And we get much help in the immediate proximity. Check out Luke 19:9-10.

And we also ought to ask: When did Jesus, and the original audience to this parable, expect this severe reckoning to take place? What exactly is he describing by telling a story about a great king returning home to check on his appointed servants? We get much help in the succeeding vicinity. Check out Luke 19:41-44.

At this point in Luke’s gospel, Jesus has—yet again!—just reminded his disciples why he is going up to Jerusalem (and Luke has spent 10 chapters describing that single-minded journey):

See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished.
Luke 18:31

So what did the prophets have to say about this arrival in Jerusalem? And how does the parable of the ten minas connect with what those prophets had to say? Help is available, especially in Malachi 3:1-5 and Zechariah 9:9-10:12.

Your Turn

I’ll leave it there for now, so you can examine the text yourself and consider these questions. Hopefully I’ll get to write more on it next week, after you’ve had time to ponder the matter.

The Surprising Transformation of the Disciples of Jesus

June 22, 2020 By Ryan Higginbottom

Jesus’ disciples were not at their best at the end of his life. They were fearful, uneasy, and uncertain about the future.

And yet, at the end of the Gospels, these same men were ready to take on the world. How can we explain this difference?

The Disciples Before

For most of the last chapter of Luke, the disciples were not exactly full of faith.

When the women who visited the tomb told the apostles what they had seen, the men did not believe them—it sounded like an “idle tale” (Luke 24:11). Peter was curious, but he didn’t have much company when searched out the evidence (Luke 24:12, John 20:8).

The two disciples on the road to Emmaeus were intrigued by the women’s report (Luke 24:22), but they had lost hope in Jesus as the Redeemer of Israel (Luke 24:21). His death was unexpected and disheartening.

When Jesus appeared to his disciples, they thought he was a spirit (Luke 24:37). They were full of fears and doubts (Luke 24:38). Even after Jesus showed them his hands and feet and invited them to touch his wounds, they weren’t convinced it was him (Luke 24:41).

The Disciples After

The end of Luke 24 stands in stark contrast to its beginning.

The disciples witnessed Jesus’ ascension, worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy (Luke 24:51–52). They were continually in the temple praising God (Luke 24:53).

The fact that the disciples returned to Jerusalem with great joy is itself an act of faith. In Luke, Jesus spent the first part of his ministry teaching and healing in Galilee, but then “he set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51).

Things unraveled quickly after Jesus and his companions arrived in Jerusalem for Passover. Jesus was betrayed, arrested, tried, and killed. The religious and governmental leaders who were responsible were largely still present in Jerusalem on Easter Sunday; this would have made the city a terrifying place for Jesus’ followers.

Yet Jerusalem was to be the launching place for the proclamation of the gospel to all the nations (Luke 24:47). Jesus told his disciples to stay in the city until they received power for this mission (Luke 24:49). The fact that they faced staying in a dangerous place with “great joy” shows the magnitude of their transformation.

So, what caused the change?

The Elements of Change

As we observe the text of Luke 24, we notice three ingredients that kindled the disciples’ growth.

The Word of God

Jesus’ followers did not understand the Scriptures. Consequently, they did not grasp who he was nor did they expect him to suffer, die, and rise.

At the tomb, the angels reminded the women that Jesus had told them that he “must” die and rise (Luke 24:6–8).

Jesus told the Emmaeus-bound disciples that they were foolish and slow to believe what the prophets had spoken (Luke 24:25). He explained that it was “necessary” for the Christ to die and then enter glory (Luke 24:26). He then taught them about himself through all the Scriptures (Luke 24:27).

When Jesus appeared to the disciples, he reminded them that everything in the Law, Prophets, and Psalms “must” be fulfilled (Luke 24:44). He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures (Luke 24:45).

God’s word is the central corrective element in this passage. Jesus, the angels, and Luke all point to the Scriptures for a proper understanding about the Messiah. That understanding brought transformation.

Jesus

The disciples heard rumors of Jesus’ resurrection, but they were changed when they finally saw him.

After the two traveling disciples recognized Jesus at a meal, they felt conviction like heartburn when they reflected on his Scripture lesson for them (Luke 24:32). They returned to the eleven with the ground-breaking news (Luke 24:33), and when they arrived, the others were convinced of the resurrection because Jesus had also appeared to Peter (Luke 24:34).

When Jesus “stood among” the disciples, they weren’t convinced it was him (Luke 24:36–37). But Jesus invited them to touch and see. He showed them his hands and feet. He ate with them (Luke 24:39–43). Thus convincing the disciples that he was not a spirit and that he was, in fact, Jesus, he gave them supernatural understanding of the Scriptures (Luke 24:45).

Finally, the disciples went with Jesus to Bethany for his ascension (Luke 24:50). He blessed them as they watched him depart (Luke 24:51).

The disciples had experienced a traumatic stretch of days. At the center of their disappointment was the death of their leader and their loss of hope. Spending time with and learning from Jesus between his resurrection and ascension had a powerful effect.

A Mission and a Promise

When Jesus visited the disciples, he didn’t only give them instruction and fellowship, he gave them a purpose for the future.

When explaining the Scriptures, Jesus said “it is written” that “repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem” (Luke 24:47). And the disciples were not just messengers but “witnesses of these things” (Luke 24:48).

Jesus gave the disciples a promise to accompany their mission.

And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high. (Luke 24:49)

The disciples had a great task in front of them, but there was a mighty helper on the way.

Main Point and Application

Luke had at least one main point in writing the last chapter of his Gospel: An encounter with the resurrected Jesus will transform disciples and prepare them for a joyful mission.

We can start to apply this powerful truth by praying. Let’s pray for these encounters—for ourselves and others.

And as you brainstorm ways to bring yourself and your neighbors into contact with the risen Christ, remember that he is powerfully present in the Bible and with his people.

We Need Faith to Study the Bible

May 25, 2020 By Ryan Higginbottom

Our approach often determines our results.

A pole vaulter’s job is incredibly complex. An observer may only see them flying through the air, but the athlete must first put in months of work on form, technique, speed, strength, and flexibility. Those in training practice sprinting with the pole before they ever vault over the bar. If they approach the pit incorrectly, there is no chance of success.

Likewise, our approach to the Bible often determines our understanding and our obedience. The question is: Will we approach the Bible in faith?

Slow-to-Believe Disciples

We find the famous story of Jesus on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24:13–35. When Jesus joins the pair of disciples, they do not recognize him, and they are shocked when he seems ignorant of the headline events of recent days (Luke 24:17–19).

As the two relate the current events to Jesus, after mentioning his death, they say, “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21). The implication is clear—because Jesus died, he must not be the one to redeem Israel.

The disciples go on to mention the empty tomb, indicating their curiosity about a possible resurrection, but Jesus responds with a rebuke.

O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory? (Luke 24:25–26)

Jesus goes on to explain all the things about himself in the Scriptures. But let’s examine that rebuke more closely.

Because the disciples were not expecting a Messiah who would suffer and die, their hopes were dashed. But Jesus says that they should have expected this! They were slow of heart to believe the prophets. (This includes Jesus, whom they describe as a prophet in Luke 24:19 and who spoke about his suffering and death in Luke 9:21–22, 9:44, and 18:31–34.) They were reading and interpreting the Scriptures without faith.

Different Approaches to the Bible

People read the Bible for a host of different reasons.

Some come as skeptics, wondering what this strange book/religion is all about. Others pick up the Bible to find evidence for a belief they already hold. Still others approach the Bible only to prove someone wrong.

Instead of being slow of heart to believe, we must be quick to believe. We must come to the Bible eager to discover and believe the truth. We must approach the Bible in faith.

Now, God can turn around any skeptic that opens his word. But for those who already follow Jesus, we must come expecting to find good and helpful truths in the Bible. And we must repent of our resistance, our hesitation, and our refusal to embrace what God teaches.

How to Approach in Faith

The best way to approach the Bible in faith is to ask God for it. Confess your reluctance and your doubts and ask him to work in you. It takes humility to study the Bible.

God also builds faith in us as we hear what he says about his word. Psalm 19 contains some wonderful, soul-rousing truths about the Bible.

The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the testimony of the Lord is sure,
making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is pure,
enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is clean,
enduring forever;
the rules of the Lord are true,
and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey
and drippings of the honeycomb.
Moreover, by them is your servant warned;
in keeping them there is great reward. (Psalm 19:7–11)

As God’s people, let’s turn to the Bible ready for wisdom, joy, and enlightenment. Let’s seek out the truth and believe it.

Context Matters: Leave the Dead to Bury Their Own Dead

February 28, 2020 By Peter Krol

Perhaps you’ve heard some of Jesus’ cryptic sayings, such as “Let the dead bury their own dead.” What are we to make of such a mysterious sentence? How shall we go about trying to puzzle it out?

Context matters. When we learn to read the Bible properly—and we don’t just take a guess at the meaning on our own—we’ll find that the clues are right there in the passage waiting to be found.

The Text

The command comes in response to a man who considers following Jesus. The man asks to be allowed to go first and bury his father. Then Jesus speaks the words under consideration: “Leave the dead to bury their own dead.”

This brief scene occurs in both Matthew 8:21-22 and Luke 9:59-60. For the sake of this post, I’m looking at Luke’s version. Because Matthew may have a different use in mind for this scene, I might analyze his version in another post. For this season, however, my head has been in Luke. So I’ll camp there.

Some Options

A number of options have been proposed for how to interpret this command.

Some describe an ancient Jewish practice of “second burial,” where a family would return to the tomb of a loved one a year after burial and rearrange the placement of the bones. They suggest that, because Jesus would presumably never contradict the 5th commandment to honor one’s parents (Ex 20:12), Jesus must be ordering the man to forgo this practice of second burial. “Leave the second-burial dead to bury their own first-burial dead.”

Others claim that the first “dead” in the verse refers to the spiritually dead. And a Christian ought to delegate the responsibility for burying their (physically) dead parents to those who are not Christians. “Leave the spiritually dead to bury their own physically dead.”

Still others suggest that the man’s father was not yet dead, and the potential disciple was merely making excuses not to follow Jesus. “Leave off the excuse of needing to care for the aging.”

Another idea is that the phrase means either that God must come first before all else, or that we must accept that what is done is done. “Bury your priorities and your past as though they were dead, and put me first.”

Still others propose that the command is not relevant to Christians today, but was only for the first apostles. Jesus’ call to them then was so strict as to preclude their responsibility to care for aging or dying parents. But his call on us today is not as strict. “Leave the dead apostles to leave the dead to bury their own dead.”

How are we to choose from among these options? Surely we won’t get the answer by closing our eyes and reflecting on the options until one of them feels right. There have got to be clues in the text itself.

Help from the Structure

In Luke’s account, we’re given three brief scenes with potential disciples, all in a row. The first (Luke 9:57-58) and third (Luke 9:61-62) both take initiative with Jesus and announce “I will follow you.” However, with the second potential disciple, the one we are considering, Jesus makes the first move: “Follow me” (Luke 9:59). This pattern sets up a simple three-part structure:

“I will follow you wherever you go.”
- “Follow me… But as for you…”
“I will follow you, Lord, but…”

The first and third potential disciples are idealists. They’re quick to make promises about what they will do. The first is a broad idealist, offering to follow Jesus “wherever.” And the second one is a narrow idealist, offering to follow Jesus under one small condition (“let me first say farewell to those at my home”). But both remain idealists who need a dose of reality: We won’t have the greatest of accommodations (Luke 9:58), and we need to be singly focused on the kingdom (Luke 9:62).

But the structure of the paragraph points a flashing neon arrow at the second potential disciple. Being at the center of the concentric structure, we ought to expect the punchline to fall there.

And so it does. Not only is Jesus the one to take initiative, but he also closes the vignette with a clear call: “But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60). So in some way, “burying the dead” is in tension with “proclaiming the kingdom of God.” If burying the dead will get in the way of proclaiming the kingdom, then leave the task to the dead.

In brief, then, the structure helps us to see the main point: Go and proclaim the kingdom. But it doesn’t yet help us to grasp the precise interpretation of the phrase “leave the dead to bury their own dead.” We need more help.

Help Before and After

The train of thought in the larger passage may come to the rescue.

The paragraph before the one we’re examining (Luke 9:51-56) launches a major division in Luke’s gospel (see my post on how to navigate the middle of Luke). In that paragraph, James and John ask if Jesus wants them to call down fire on a village that didn’t receive him (Luke 9:53-54). Clearly he doesn’t, because he rebukes them and moves on to another village (Luke 9:55-56). So now is not a time for unflinching judgment.

The paragraphs after the one we’re examining (Luke 10:1-24) show Jesus appointing “seventy-two others” (so not including the Twelve) to go ahead of him (Luke 10:1) and proclaim the kingdom of God (Luke 10:9, 11). For this particular mission, they are to take no supplies and stop to greet no one (Luke 10:4). In other words, they are to leave possessions and ordinary politeness behind. This mission is far too urgent.

So the train of thought takes the following track:

Now is a time not for judgment but for patience—Luke 9:51-56
Now is a time for single-minded and urgent proclamation of the kingdom—Luke 9:57-62
Here are your marching orders for this season of patient yet urgent proclamation—Luke 10:1-24

Conclusion

I don’t think we have reason to believe that “leave the dead to bury their own dead” is intended by Luke as a code or metaphor for something else, as though we need to figure out who exactly the first “dead” are and who the second “dead” are. I also don’t see support from the context for even a precise definition for the saying.

Luke’s purpose here is not to tell us what to do with our dead. His purpose is to paint a picture of the urgency of proclaiming the kingdom of God. In particular, the urgency they had then of proclaiming Jesus’ approach toward Jerusalem to bring that kingdom (Luke 9:51, 53).

In painting this picture, Luke portrays a man who wants to bury his father. And Jesus wants the man to leave the situation alone for now so he can proclaim this urgent kingdom message instead. Somewhat like a modern father of a preschooler, late for a family gathering, telling his daughter to just leave her baby dolls to have their own tea party; we only need to get in the car! She would be missing the point if she began dissecting the question of whether dolls really have the ability to have their own tea parties without her.

So the weight of our interpretation ought to land on the proclamation of the kingdom instead of on deciding allowable burial practices.

Now, while the passage clearly has a particular setting (proclaiming Jesus’ imminent arrival in Jerusalem), I wouldn’t go as far as to say that this means the passage has no application to today (as with the last option on the list above). All Scripture is profitable for teaching and equipping. We can identify principles here for application, but we need to be careful not to read the instructions as though they had been delivered directly to us. There was something unique about Jesus’ journey toward Jerusalem, for which those 72 folks had a particular urgency. We likewise face an analogous urgency in our proclamation of the kingdom, but the instructions don’t always directly apply. For example, it may now be appropriate for missionaries to raise support (contra Luke 10:4; see Rom 15:24, Phil 4:15-18).

Context matters.

For more examples of why context matters, click here.

How to Navigate the Middle of Luke

February 21, 2020 By Peter Krol

Of the four New Testament gospels, Luke’s is the lengthiest. And in my opinion, the longest section within the book (Luke 9:51-19:27) is the most challenging to get through. It can feel aimless and meandering, almost as though Luke indulges his personal wanderlust without a clear purpose or organization.

Literary Stasis

At least his second volume, the book of Acts, can be organized according to travel sequences. The gospel moves out in waves from Jerusalem, into Judea, then Samaria, and then to the ends of the earth. And “the ends of the earth” section is commonly subdivided into Paul’s first, second, and third missionary journeys, with a voyage to Rome appended to the end.

But in Luke, Jesus simply commits himself to going to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51), and then he finally goes up to Jerusalem (Luke 19:28). And nothing really happens plot-wise in the intervening 10 chapters. There is a lot of talking and meandering, with occasional reminders that Jesus is “on the way.” But very few narrative events take place. And they are the sort of events that don’t typically show up on a summary timeline of the life of Christ.

There’s a funny thing about these 10 chapters. In a sense, Luke could have gone without them. Luke more or less puts Jesus into a literary stasis, frozen in the act of traveling toward Jerusalem (with almost no named stops along the way). And Luke’s overall themes could function without this part of the book. In Luke 1:1-4:13, Luke presents Jesus as, himself, the salvation of God. In Luke 4:14-9:50, Jesus proclaims the coming salvation of God through himself. And in Luke 19:28 to the end, Jesus goes and accomplishes the salvation of God. Luke could have jumped right from Luke 9:51 to Luke 19:28 without the intervening material, and the book would still have made sense.

The “parenthetical” nature of Luke 9:51-19:27 is so stark that commentators even have a label for it. They tend to call this section of Luke “The Travelogue” or “The Travel Narrative.”

What further sense can we make of this literary stasis?

Literary Divisions

It appears that Luke divides this large section into four sub-sections.* His literary signal, to show the beginning of a new sub-section, is a reminder that the plot is still frozen and Jesus is still “on the way” to Jerusalem.

When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.
Luke 9:51

Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village.
Luke 10:38

He went on his way through towns and villages, teaching and journeying toward Jerusalem.
Luke 13:22

On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Galilee.
Luke 17:11

In each case, Luke makes sure to remind us that Jesus is “on the way” to Jerusalem. And then, almost immediately, somebody asks Jesus a weighty question. And Luke spends the rest of the section showing us how Jesus answered the question.

So the pattern to mark each sub-section is as follows:

Luke reminds us that Jesus is on the way to Jerusalem.
Somebody asks a weighty question.
The following collection of scenes and dialogues answers the question.

For example, in the first section (Luke 9:51-10:37), James and John ask Jesus if he wants them to call down fire from heaven on an unresponsive village (Luke 9:54). Jesus rebukes them, and then he calls another disciple to “go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60). The rest of the section describes the plan for such proclamation.

In the second section (Luke 10:38-13:21), Martha asks Jesus whether he cares that her sister has left her to serve alone (Luke 10:40). She asks Jesus to tell Mary to help her with the work. Jesus tells Martha that he absolutely cares about what Mary has done, and that Mary has actually chosen the better portion—to sit at his feet and grow closer to him. The rest of the section describes the process for such growth in the lives of those who will sit at Jesus’ feet. We get instruction about such practical topics as the Holy Spirit, prayer, tradition, money management, and repentance.

At the start of the third section (Luke 13:22-17:10), a random person asks Jesus if those who are saved will be few (Luke 13:23). Jesus acknowledges that they will, in fact, be few. And very many will strive to enter the kingdom but will find themselves weeping outside. The rest of the section shows a great concern for how many will get in and how many will be left out.

At the start of the fourth section (Luke 17:11-19:27), the Pharisees ask Jesus when the kingdom of God will come (Luke 17:20). Jesus claims that it has already arrived, but they are simply unable to recognize it for what it is. The rest of the section then describes how to recognize the kingdom, how it is already upon us, and how most Jews of that generation are just about out of time to enter it.

Summary

In summary, this lengthy section of Luke, this literary stasis, could be called “The Life of Discipleship.” This large section describes life in the kingdom of God, the life of those who would be his disciples. Luke freezes the plot to draw out the implications of what he’s told us so far in the book. What is Jesus really after? How would he describe the results he expects from his salvation? When does he expect things to play out? And what sort of people does he want his followers to be?

This lengthy section concerns four main topics:

How we must proclaim his kingdom (Luke 9:51-10:37)
How to grow as citizens of the kingdom (Luke 10:38-13:21)
Who is a true citizen, and who is not (Luke 13:22-17:10)
How to recognize that the kingdom has, in fact, come through Jesus (Luke 17:11-19:27)

Now that you grasp this skeleton, perhaps you can make more sense of the meandering parables and dialogues found there. We find some of Jesus’ most famous parables here (e.g. good Samaritan, lost sheep, prodigal son, Pharisee and tax collector, rich fool, and rich man and Lazarus). Perhaps you’ll grasp these parables—and other familiar texts—more clearly when you consider them within the context of their sub-section.

* For these structural insights, I am indebted to William Taylor’s marvelous two-volume study guide on Luke in the Read Mark Learn series (Christian Focus, 2016 & 2018).

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Why Was Baby Jesus Laid in a Manger?

December 13, 2019 By Peter Krol

“And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” (Luke 2:7)

This time of year, the words roll right off the tongue. And every child’s first question is: What is a manger? When the teacher explains that it is a feeding trough for animals, the astute youth then wonders: Why was the baby laid there?

Now enters the ancient and hallowed tradition of Nativity speculation. Since we’re supposed to reflect on this narrative for a few weeks each year, we need some way to fill in the gaps left by the gospel narrators. And so we wax eloquent about Mary and Joseph’s poverty. Or the pathetic rejection they faced by the innkeeper. Or the influx of tourism to Bethlehem on account of the census. Or the astonishing degradation to which the Son of God submitted himself in setting aside, for a time, his heavenly glory in order to clothe himself in earthly humiliation—all to win a people for himself.

And every one of these speculations might be true. But in connecting such historical and theological dots, let’s please be careful not to neglect the main reason Luke gives for including this detail in his narrative.

Luke’s Purpose

If we read Luke like a book and not simply as a Christmas photo shoot, we’ll realize that we’re only in chapter 2. It was not all that long ago in the book that Luke made his purpose quite clear and explicit:

“…it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may have certainty concerning the things you have been taught.” (Luke 1:3-4)

Luke writes an orderly account of the early Christian movement, so the Roman official Theophilus can be certain about the things he’s heard about it. This is Luke’s purpose: to provide enough evidence to enable Theophilus to be sure about what he’s heard.

But what is it that Theophilus has heard, of which he ought to be certain? The main point of Luke’s gospel is something along the lines of: “The hope of Israel, God’s plan of salvation for the world, has arrived in Jesus.” (You can find my case for this main point here.) It is on account of this hope that Paul is on trial (Acts 26:6-7), and the facts surrounding this hope ought to lead, Luke believes, to Paul’s exoneration before Caesar from the charges brought against him by the Jews (Acts 24:5-6).

So Luke wants his reader to be certain about this hope, with the aim of exonerating Paul from all charges.

The Manger

Now how does this overall purpose help us to understand why Mary laid Jesus in a manger? I confess it will not be all that helpful in understanding why this woman laid her baby in the manger (we’ll need to employ our venerable Nativity speculation to close that gap). But it will help us in every way to understand why Luke saw fit to tell us she had done so.

Just follow the manger through the passage:

The narrator declares: “And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger” (Luke 2:7).
The angel proclaims: “And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger” (Luke 2:12).
Finally, the narrator recounts: “And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger (Luke 2:16).

Do you see the flow of thought? Mary lays him there. The angel tells the shepherds they will know they have the right baby when they see him lying there. Then they go to see for themselves, and yes, they find him there, just as they had been told.

So can the shepherds be certain of the things they were taught? Can they be sure that this is the right child?

“And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.” (Luke 2:20)

Conclusion

Luke’s reason for mentioning the manger is that it provided for the shepherds corroboration of what the angel said. The detail of the manger serves a clear narrative and persuasive purpose to show the fact (the baby was laid there), the prediction (the angel said they’d find him there), and the testimony (they did in fact find him there, just as they were told).

So why was the baby Jesus laid in a manger? In Luke’s narrative world, it was so that Theophilus (and by extension, you and I) could be certain that these shepherds were eyewitnesses to the birth. They are among the many eyewitnesses from the beginning (Luke 1:2) whom Luke has researched and included in his account to promote certainty. And just as they could be certain, from the sign of the manger, that they had located the right baby, so also you and I can be certain of the same.

And what is it, precisely, of which they and we can be certain regarding him? What is the hope of which they can be certain?

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11)

This child is the one. He is the one to rescue us (Savior). He is the Messiah, the Chosen One (Christ). He is Yahweh (the Lord) in the flesh.

This advent season, let us, too, “go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” And may we, too, return, “glorifying and praising God for all [we have] heard and seen, as it [has] been told [us].”

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Context Matters: Peace on Earth

December 9, 2019 By Ryan Higginbottom

Perhaps you’ve heard that Jesus came to bring peace on earth, that the angels sang this very phrase when his birth was announced to the shepherds. You’ve got piles of cards (and maybe boxes of ornaments) bearing this phrase. And at this time of year, the words “peace on earth” invoke a warm, reflective mood, just right for hot cocoa and soft-focused photography.

But is this how we should read the divine birth announcement? Did Jesus really come to bring peace on earth?

We always need to pay attention to the context of our favorite verses and phrases. When we learn to read the Bible for what it is—and not just as a collection of slogans or choruses—we may find that it has a deeper or different meaning than we’ve assumed.

The Immediate Context

We begin with the immediate context of the phrase in question. In Luke 2, after the angels tell the shepherds about the birth of the Savior, we read this:

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” (Luke 2:13–14)

The angels are not announcing a general, earth-blanketing peace. They announce and pray for peace “among those with whom he is pleased.” This is an important first qualification.

The Broader Context in Luke

There is certainly a need for peace at the beginning of Luke’s Gospel.

Luke deliberately calls attention to the political setting of his narrative in the first two chapters; he mentions King Herod (Luke 1:5), Caesar Augustus (Luke 2:1), and the Syrian governor Quirinius (Luke 2:2). Mary praises her God who has “brought down the mighty from their thrones” (Luke 1:52). During the Roman occupation of Jewish land, these markers and desires were pointed.

Additionally, many of the characters we encounter could use a healthy dose of peace. Mary is troubled by her angelic visitor (Luke 1:29) and so is Zechariah (Luke 1:12). Zechariah remembers the enemies of the Lord’s people when he prophesies over his son (Luke 1:71, 74), and he points forward to the work of the Messiah. At the end of the prophecy, we get a partial description of the peace about which the angels will sing.

And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1:76–79)

Later, in the midst of a long string of teaching, Luke records a striking statement from Jesus about his purposes for coming.

I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished! Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. (Luke 12:49–51)

Jesus goes on to speak primarily about divisions within a family, but it is clear that universal peace is not one of Jesus’s immediate objectives.

There is one last cry about peace in Luke, as Jesus is approaching Jerusalem for the last time.

As he was drawing near—already on the way down the Mount of Olives—the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” (Luke 19:37–38)

We can now tie off this thread of peace that runs in the background of Luke. The disciples hail Jesus as the king, and Luke captures their praise as an echo of the earlier angelic song. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!

The Peace that Jesus Came to Bring

Jesus came to bring peace. But his peace is not the world’s peace. It is not for everyone, and it is not immediate.

Peace often requires confrontation, sacrifice, and suffering, and this describes much of Jesus’s time on earth. He came primarily to bring us peace with God, and that required his obedient life, his brutal death, and his resurrection.

But the thing about peace with God is that it spreads. The angels announced peace on earth among God’s people because that is a fruit that the Spirit of Christ brings. The church now is to be a glimpse of what the world will be. It happens slowly and imperfectly, two steps forward and one step back. But it happens.

Jesus came to bring peace. That peace is not for everyone, and it does not arrive in fullness now. But it is real and life-giving and earth-rocking. It is worthy of a sky full of angels.

Context matters.

For more examples of why context matters, click here.

Keep the Whole Book in Mind

November 25, 2019 By Ryan Higginbottom

Luke 20 begins with a confrontation.

One day, as Jesus was teaching the people in the temple and preaching the gospel, the chief priests and the scribes with the elders came up and said to him, “Tell us by what authority you do these things, or who it is that gave you this authority.” He answered them, “I also will ask you a question. Now tell me, was the baptism of John from heaven or from man?” (Luke 20:1–4)

Before digging into this passage, whenever I heard this chapter I thought Jesus was simply countering a question with a question. The chief priests and scribes were trying to serve him a trap, so he volleyed back a puzzle. I didn’t see much connection.

I should have known better.

Authority and Baptism

Since John baptized Jesus, when Jesus referred to John’s baptism he was not pointing toward something abstract. For Jesus, this could not have been more personal and meaningful. Jesus’s ministry began with his baptism.

For Luke, the surrounding context of Jesus’s baptism (Luke 3:21–22) was all about authority. John spent time answering questions from tax collectors and soldiers, two groups of people in authority (Luke 3:12–14). This led to questions about whether John was the Christ, but he pointed to one who was coming who would have so much authority that he could baptize with the Holy Spirit and serve as judge (Luke 3:15–17).

John was then thrown into prison for opposing Herod’s evil ways (Luke 3:18–20). Without an eye toward the topic of authority, this might seem a strange section of the passage. But when we know the theme, we see Herod’s obvious abuse of authority.

Finally, we read of Jesus’s baptism. Luke doesn’t explicitly tell us that John baptized Jesus, but this is a reasonable deduction (see Luke 3:7 and Luke 3:21), confirmed in other Gospels.

The Baptism of God’s Son

When Jesus was praying immediately after his baptism, a special guest arrived.

Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:21–22)

We usually read this voice as divine words of comfort and affirmation; they were this and much more. The title “son of God” was a kingly title, stretching back to the Old Testament and finding its clearest illustration in 2 Samuel 7:8–17. From that point forward, Davidic kings were “sons of God.” The one with ultimate earthly authority toward God’s people was the son of God.

Luke proceeds from the baptism of Jesus to the genealogy of Jesus. Unlike modern Christians, Luke’s first readers would not have nodded off at a list of “begats.” Especially not this list.

The genealogy begins with Jesus and ends with God, with lots of sons in between. Luke is repeating his point in case we didn’t hear it the first time: Jesus is the son of God.

The Confrontation Fizzles

The chief priests, scribes, and elders thought that Jesus’s question in Luke 20 was about John. But Jesus’s question answered theirs. Who gave Jesus the authority to do what he did?

God did. In John’s baptism of Jesus, God declared Jesus to be his son, and Luke wants us to see there is no higher authority.

Context Matters

We write a lot on this blog about how context matters. But we aren’t only concerned with the sentences and paragraphs surrounding your favorite verse.

This example from Luke 20 shows the importance of at least three different Scriptural contexts. The location of the question in Luke 20 and the baptism in Luke 3 reminds us that the immediate context matters. The reference from Luke 20 to Luke 3 reminds us to keep the whole book in mind—the context within the book matters. And the references to the phrase “son of God” remind us that the whole Bible is connected. Old Testament context informs New Testament usage.

This is not just an argument for careful Bible study and for regularly re-reading the book of the Bible you are studying. It’s also a reminder that the whole Bible matters when we interpret the whole Bible.

New and Old Garments

November 8, 2019 By Peter Krol

There are parts of the Bible I’ve read so many times that I’m prone to mistake familiarity with them for understanding of them. But once in a while, when I set my familiarity aside, I can take a look at what’s actually there. This happened to me recently in a study of Luke 5.

Image by Mabel Amber, still incognito… from Pixabay

At the end of the chapter, the Pharisees get upset with Jesus and his disciples for not fasting like either John or the Pharisees themselves. Part of Jesus’ response is a straightforward parable:

He also told them a parable: “No one tears a piece from a new garment and puts it on an old garment. If he does, he will tear the new, and the piece from the new will not match the old. (Luke 5:36)

The issue (the problem with my familiarity) is that I’ve spent years of my life studying Mark’s version of this story. This is the first time I’ve taken a close enough look at Luke’s account to realize that Luke is saying something quite different from Mark. Check out Mark’s version:

No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the patch tears away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear is made. (Mark 2:21)

And just for the sake of completeness, here is Matthew’s version:

No one puts a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment, for the patch tears away from the garment, and a worse tear is made. (Matt 9:16)

Observe the Difference

Matthew and Mark are very similar. They talk about cutting an “unshrunk” garment to make a patch for an old garment. The problem is that the new patch will subsequently shrink and tear away from the torn garment, making the original tear far worse.

But Luke is using the same cast of characters to tell a completely different story. He speaks of ripping up a new garment to fix an old one. The problem here is twofold: 1) You’ve ruined a perfectly good (and new) garment, and 2) the fix won’t even match the original.

Why does this matter? What really is the difference between them?

Matthew and Mark are concerned with the damage to the old garment, while Luke is more concerned with the damage to the new garment.

Why Does This Matter?

The epiphany for me was simply to realize I was assuming Luke was telling the same parable as Mark. I needed a jolt to actually look at the text and observe the bare facts of Luke’s presentation. It is so easy to assume I know what a story says. And the unfortunate result of that assumption is that I stop looking!

As for how this affects interpretation: I’m not exactly sure yet, but perhaps you have some ideas. It’s surely related to the extra line Luke adds, which is not found in any other gospel: “And no one after drinking old wine desires new, for he says, ‘The old is good.’ (Luke 5:39).” The problem here is that the new thing is damaged to the point of being perceived as undesirable in comparison to the old thing. And this is a little different from the way Matthew and Mark present the situation.

Perhaps you’re already more familiar with Luke’s version, and it’s difficult for you to see what Mark/Matthew has to say. Either way, it’s another example of the danger of hasty harmonization. Let’s make sure to grasp the particular point each author seeks to make, and not lump them together, presuming they’re communicating the same thing!

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