CHAPTER 13
OK, here is a chapter full of some new items. That’s the good news. The bad news is it’s mostly new parables,
and by this point I’m all parable-d out in the New Testament.
Well, it’s not all parables. Christ begins with some teachings. He starts off with a then-current event – some Galileans who
died. Jesus asks the crowd: do you
think they were really worse people and more horrible sinners than the rest of
us? By no means! Just because they died doesn’t mean they had
it coming. You never know when you’re
day is up, so dedicate yourself to God.
OK, that’s a nice one, Jesus.
He gives several parables, most of which we’ve heard in some
various form before. For instance, he
talks about the mustard seed yet again, but this time he doesn’t call it the
smallest of all seeds.
There is one key teaching that is important for Christian
theology. He’s asked about
salvation. Everyone wants to be saved,
but ultimately few are strong enough themselves to be saved. So will all the others be damned? Nah, don’t worry about it. People not strong enough to be saved still
have a chance – “Lord open the door for us.”
They can find salvation through the Lord – re: Jesus Christ. Then all will have a chance to be
saved. This is why people pray to Jesus
Christ nowadays.
Oh, and Herod wants Christ dead and Jesus laments the fate
of Jerusalem. We’ve seen stuff like
this before.
CHAPTER 14
This one is a bit different. It’s another Christ versus the
Pharisees confrontation, but it’s not like the ones in Matthew. In that gospel, all the confrontations took
place in public. This time, Christ is
at a dinner party with them. It’s
after-dinner conversation. This is at
least the second time Christ has had one of these in Luke, and he had none
previously.
Much of the debate topics are stuff we’ve already gone over
– healing on the Sabbath, how to act, how to be a disciple. But the completely different setting gives
it a very different feel. Those public
confrontations were just that – confrontations. This time it all feels like a debate. The stakes don’t seem so serious. Jesus is contending in the court of public opinion. He’s just trying to explain himself. To be fair, they are still trying to trap
him and there is an interrogation aspect to it, but by shifting the event to a
dinner party, the whole thing feels a lot more congenial.
There is one stunning moment; one part that really doesn’t
make any sense. Christ tells his hosts,
“If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children,
brothers an sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.”
WHHHHAAAAAAA? This
isn’t any version of Christianity I’ve ever heard of before. Sure, in the past he’s said he brings the
sword, not peace, that he wants the world to catch fire – but this is going
further. Saying you want the entire
world to catch fire sound impersonal.
Saying you must hate your children?
Man, it doesn’t get any more personal than that. Why in Hades would he say something like
that? My best interpretation is to say
he wants people to break their old attachments, and dedicate themselves to him
and his cause. OK, that fits much of the rest of the New Testament, but he sure
puts it in the worst possible light here.
The best consolation is that whenever I read something in Luke that
wasn’t in Mark and Matthew I question it’s authenticity, but that just opens up
a new question: why would Luke find it reasonable for Christ to say this? It’s one of those stunning moments that
don’t fit well into people’s views on Christ.
CHAPTER 15
Jesus gives more parables, all along the same theme –
finding what had been lost. First he gives the parable of the lost sheep that
was in Matthew. At the time, I said it
sounded like a rough draft for the Prodigal Son story. So naturally this chapter in Luke gives us
the actual Prodigal Son story.
A man has two sons – the good one and the bad one. The bad one runs off and blows his share of
the money. He’s not heard of from
years, and comes to regret his action.
In despair and guilt, he returns home, saying, “Father, I have sinned
against heaven, and against you. I no
longer deserve to be your son.” That’s
a heartbreaking sentiment; especially the second half.
The father is overwhelmed with joy – his lost son has
returned! He orders a feast, and will
kill his best goat for all to eat. He
tells the good boy to help make things ready.
The good boy takes some offense.
“Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your
orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feats on with my
friends.” You know, he’s got a
point. The father should’ve practiced
some parenting version of preventative medicine. He should’ve celebrated his good son –at least just once. The old man literally never gave him
a goat to feast on? Man, what a bunch
of crummy birthdays.
The old man shrugs it off.
“My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice,
because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has
been found.” Amazing grace, how sweet
the sound.
I get the desire to celebrate the return of a lost
soul. In that respect, the dad makes a
point. But he also took his good son
for granted. If it’s true that the son
literally never complained and always obeyed, that might explain it. When there’s no resistance ever, it’s easier
to remember he even exists. He becomes
more an extension of his dad’s will than a person in his own right. Being too much of a goody two shoes can lead
to being ignored.
I don’t fully get the appeal of this story. Like I said, the father doesn’t come off too
well. But the analogy is clear. Even if you go away from Christ for years,
the door remains open. He will
celebrate your turn to him even if the longtime believer seems to deserve it
more. From the point of view of Christ,
seniority in fidelity doesn’t give you anything extra.
CHAPTER 16
More parables.
Yawn. The first one is about a
dishonest steward, and I didn’t really get it.
It ends with the master commending the dishonest steward for acting
prudently. Huh? I must’ve missed something. I guess the master was suckered. I guess.
Christ goes on to denounce greed. First he does it by parable, and then he starts to get
personal. He attacks the
Pharisees. Luke notes, “The Pharisees,
who loved money, heard all these things and sneered at him.” Wait – that’s not right. Look, the Pharisees come off like dinks time
and again, but they don’t come off much like money-grubbers. They come off like sticklers for rules. Declaring that no one heal on the Sabbath
isn’t a matter of monetary gain, for example, but an example of taking their
concern for rules to the point where they become indifferent to the common
man. Also, they aren’t even the real
powerbrokers out there. They are
lower-level guys. The real power
brokers are the Sadducees. Luke is just
off the mark here.
There is another parable demonstrating Christ’s concern for
the downtrodden instead of the rich. He
tells us of two guys – a rich guy, and a poor person named Lazarus. Poor old Lazarus is so sick that dogs would
come up to him and lick his sores. Man,
that’s disgusting. Well, they both die
(no, this Lazarus isn’t the famous one).
In the afterlife, the rich guy sees Lazarus up in heaven with Abraham
and protests. But the moral of the
story is they both got what they deserve.
We saw an afterlife in the Old Testament. At least as far back as Jacob people would
talk of Sheol, a place down below that was essentially hell. But then it’s the place everyone went. Now some have Happy Fun Land to go to as
well. Jesus doesn’t talk too much of
the afterlife in general. He’s more
about preparing for the Kingdom of Heaven, which sounds like it’ll be on
earth. But this notion of an afterlife
above will allow Christianity to transition from its initial concern of an
immediate coming of God to our modern notion where it hasn’t happened in 2,000
years – and that’s OK.
CHAPTER 17
Yeah, I think I’m getting sick of the gospels. Sorry, folks – but there it is. This is just more teachings from Christ –
and we’ve already gotten plenty of it.
Even when it’s stuff that we haven’t literally heard before, it sounds
roughly the same.
Basically: avoid sin, keep faith, be a good servant, the
kingdom of God is coming, and the day of the Son of Man (re: Christ) is
coming. Oh, and Jesus heals a flock of
lepers passing by. Man, there are so
many lepers and sick people in ancient Judah.
They’re like Canadian geese in Cook County.
CHAPTER 18
Jesus gives us a new parable – and it’s not a very good
one. It’s the story of a widow who nags
a mean judge into giving her a just decision.
The judge decides to give her what she wants in order to shut her
up. I guess the parable is about
persistence, but we don’t really know if the widow is in the right. She says she wants the judge to rule justly
and side on her behalf – but we never get any reason why her behalf is
automatically just. She’s a widow and
therefore we’re predisposed to see her as the suffering force for good, but we
never get a back story. This is an
underwritten parable. I sure hope
Christ never used it.
The next parable (also new) is much better. Christ talks of two people – the Pharisee
with public standing and the evil tax collector. The Pharisee is so damn sure of his own morality and looks down
his nose at everyone else. He tells
himself, “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity – greedy,
dishonest, adulterous – or even a tax collector. I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.” Meanwhile, Christ notes that the taxman is
so ashamed of himself that he can’t even look up in church (he doesn’t dare
make eye contact with God), and beats his breast, praying for help because he’s
such a sinner.
Christ’s point is simple: the second guy is the one really
closer to God. The first guy is in love
with himself and hates people. He
follows the rules but misses the point – love one another. The other guy might be a schmuck, but his
heart sure is in the right place. I
really like this story. It can be taken
too far (the guy has reason to think he’s a sinner, apparently – we don’t get
the account of him sinning, just him feeling bad about it). But that Pharisee is just so damn
distasteful with the words coming out of his mouth. (To be fair, they’re the words Christ puts in his mouth; it’s his
story). Still, we’ve all seen the
self-described Chosen act and sound like this.
Heck, the main problem I have with modern day Christianity is that so
many of its most vocal and public voices sound so damn much like that piece of
shit worthless Pharisee.
All the above is just the first third of the chapter, but
the rest is pretty pro forma stuff.
Jesus doesn’t think much of those who pursue wealth. We get the part where children come to him
(again). Christ predicts his end (it’s
the third time he’s done that. He also
did it three times in Matthew and Mar).
And he heals a blind guy. It’s
nothing we haven’t seen before.
The good boy takes some offense. “Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feats on with my friends.” You know, he’s got a point. The father should’ve practiced some parenting version of preventative medicine. He should’ve celebrated his good son –at least just once. The old man literally never gave him a goat to feast on? Man, what a bunch of crummy birthdays.
ReplyDeleteThe old man didn't have to give the "good" son anything. As the old man explains to his slow witted child:
“My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.
The old man only had two sons, and one had already taken his inheritance. That means everything else belonged to the "good" son - the whole ranch was his! He didn't need the old man to give him anything; it all already belonged to him. The "good" son could have had fatted calf every night if he wanted; all the cattle on the Ponderosa was his once Little Joe took off. He could've had his friends over all the time partying like it's 1999; it was his mansion, his servents, his, well, everything.
The first one is about a dishonest steward, and I didn’t really get it. It ends with the master commending the dishonest steward for acting prudently. Huh? I must’ve missed something. I guess the master was suckered. I guess.
The master is impressed with the way the dishonest stewart devises a way to save his ass when he sees that he's about to get canned. The dishonest steward used the funds that he had access to in the short term (even though the funds weren't really his) in order to secure benefits for himself later on (once he no longer had accesss to the funds). So likewise Jesus was trying to teach his followers to use the possessions they have on earth (which, by the way, really don't belong to them, but to God) to build a storehouse of treasures for themselves in heaven.
Luke notes, “The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all these things and sneered at him.” Wait – that’s not right. Look, the Pharisees come off like dinks time and again, but they don’t come off much like money-grubbers.
Remember this section from Mark 12:38-40:
As he taught them, he said, “Watch out for the teachers of the Law, who like to walk around in their long robes and be greeted with respect in the marketplace, who choose the reserved seats in the synagogues and the best places at feasts. They take advantage of widows and rob them of their homes, and then make a show of saying long prayers. Their punishment will be all the worse!”
And the con game they were running that Jesus exposed in Matthew 15:3-6 :
"Jesus answered, “And why do you disobey God's command and follow your own teaching? For God said, ‘Respect your father and your mother,’ and ‘If you curse your father or your mother, you are to be put to death.’ But you teach that if people have something they could use to help their father or mother, but say, ‘This belongs to God,’ they do not need to honor their father and mother. In this way you disregard God's command, in order to follow your own teaching.
where the Pharisees were encouraging folks to hold back funds that could be used to help their aging parents by using the pretense that those monies were "dedicated to God".
Heck, the main problem I have with modern day Christianity is that so many of its most vocal and public voices sound so damn much like that piece of shit worthless Pharisee.
That is more than a bit ironic; isn't it? That so many today who call themselves Christians talk and act more like the Pharisees in the Gospels than like the Christ. Of course, it's also true that there are many people who don't need Christianity (or any religion, for that matter) to act holier than thou; but, yeah, there is a sort of sad irony when you see those claiming to be followers of Jesus acting in such a manner.
Peace and Love,
Jimbo