I’ve
been putting my sermons on to different blogs for quite some years now. When I do a particular series I put it into a
single blog. So when I preached through
Acts we were thinking a lot about church and how to be church and that’s what
Acts is all about – it’s also has all those journeys of St Paul best followed using
a map … and so I gave my blog the overall title: Mapping the Church of Tomorrow, a 21st
Century reading of Acts.
Turning
back to the earlier volume by Luke that tells the story of Jesus, the Gospel of
St Luke, I decided to put the sermons on Luke into a blog too and gave it a
name that for me somehow captures something at the heart of Jesus’s teaching –
the way he continually teaches by asking questions. So the title of my blog on Luke is
“Questioning Jesus – a 21st Century Reading of Luke’s Gospel.
But
… there are questions and there are questions!
There
are questions that are asked in a genuine spirit of enquiry in a quest for the
truth … and there are questions that are asked in a hostile spirit of animosity
designed to trip you up.
Just
after Jesus had started on his journey to Jerusalem a lawyer, an expert in the
law, stood up to test Jesus. (Luke
10:25). Some translations suggest he was
out to trick Jesus. I read that passage
differently. It seems to me it was a
genuine question, asked in a spirit of enquiry.
Jesus treats the question seriously, and engages with the
questioner. He asks questions in return
that are designed to get the questioner thinking for himself. It’s a wonderful glimpse of the classic
Jewish approach to education – asking questions in a spirit of genuine enquiry.
The
Lawyer’s question is not as so many often think what must I do to get to
heaven?
It
is the much more telling question, “what
must I do to inherit eternal life?”
What must I do to inherit from all those
who have gone before that life that can be lived to the full here and now, that
life that is not bounded to death but is to eternity?
Jesus
wants him to think it through for himself and so asks two questions in return.
‘What
is written in the law?
What do you read there?’
The
expert in the law replies like a shot –
Love
God, Love your neighbour.
Jesus,
the great teacher, knows he’s got it.
‘You
have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’ – you will have life
in all its fullness here and now, that rich life that is not bounded by death
but is to eternity.
The
answer is so clear, so rooted in the Scriptures the expert in the law knew so
well, I guess he feels a touch embarrassed … and so he asks one more question
to justify himself.
‘And who is my neighbour?’
A classic
Jewish way of interpreting the Bible is to tell a story that throws light on
the meaning of a text. Such a story is
called a midrash. The biblical text for
Jesus’s midrash, is the whole of the Torah, all of the first five books of the
Bible, and the story is the wonderful story of the Good Samaritan.
Jesus replied, ‘A man was going down from
Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him,
beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was
going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So
likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the
other side. But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he
saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds,
having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought
him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two
denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when
I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.”
The
story over, Jesus returns to the question the expert in the Torah, the expert
in the Law, had asked and once again Jesus asks a question to get him thinking
so that he really owns the teaching and takes it inside himself.
Which of these three, do you think, was a
neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’
The
expert in the law draws his response from a classic theme that runs through the
Prophets – and says,
‘The one who showed him mercy.’
Then
Jesus comes in with the punch line. And
it is one that has resonated down through the ages ever since every time the
parable of the Good Samaritan is re-told.
Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’
That’s
one of the most wonderful glimpses of one of the most wonderful teachers
teaching in the most wonderful of ways.
It goes to the heart of what teaching and learning is all about – and
it’s all about asking questions in a genuine spirit of enquiry.
But
not all questions are asked in that way.
Jesus
knew full well that there were people out to get him. And the people out to get him were those who
wielded power. And the place they
wielded that power most was Jerusalem.
Fifty years and more before King Herod the Great had seized power and
cemented his hold on power by playing the Romans off against the Jews. He had
virtually demolished the temple that had stood on the highest hill in Jerusalem
and had set about re-building it.
Fifty years on the scaffolding was still up. The building wouldn’t be finished for another thirty years. The comparatively humble, prayerful temple that had been re-built after the exile had been replaced with an architectural tour de force that Herod’s successors still had to fund by exorbitant rates of tax. It had become emblematic of the ugly power of the Herodian dynasty.
Among
those unhappy with that regime were the Pharisees: they wanted to take the
Torah seriously again. As Jesus’ journey
took Jesus closer to Jerusalem some Pharisees came and said to him,
‘Get
away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.’
Jesus
could not contain his anger.
He
said to them, ‘Go and tell that fox for me,
“Listen,
I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the
third day I finish my work. 33Yet today, tomorrow, and the next
day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed
away from Jerusalem.”
Jesus
knew he had a prophetic role to play.
And that would have to play out in Jerusalem itself. And he knew the authorities would not take
kindly to that.
How
that filled him with sadness as he lamented,
34Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to
it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers
her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! 35See,
your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time
comes when you say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the
Lord.” ’
Now,
in Luke 19, the time had come. Jesus
entered the city riding on a donkey, and the people did indeed cry out, not
just Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, but
Blessed
is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.
Peace
in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!
This
was it.
A
different kind of kingdom.
The
culmination of all that teaching.
As
Jesus came near, over the Mount of Olives and saw that ancient city with the
temple clad in what looked like gold shining in the sun, with the fortress
built specially by Herod to house the Roman garrison in Jerusalem towering over
the temple courtyard, Jesus wept over the city, saying
“If you, even you had only recognised the
things that make for peace! But now they
are hidden from your eyes!”
Jesus
could see that the way the powers that be had established their hold over the
people could not last
“Indeed, he said, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts
around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. They will crush
you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave
within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of
your visitation from God.’
Make
no mistake about it. While Jesus could
at times be meek and mild, when anger was called for he could be angry.
Then he entered the temple and began to
drive out those who were selling things there; and he said,
‘It
is written,
“My house shall be a house of prayer”;
but you have made it a den of robbers.’
What
an indictment.
And
he had not finished yet.
He
had come to Jerusalem to bring that teaching all about such a very different
Kingdom of God home to the place where power lay.
47 Every day he was teaching in the
temple. The chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people kept
looking for a way to kill him;48but they did not find anything they
could do, for all the people were spellbound by what they heard.
Notice who it is who are out to get him – the
chief priests, the scribes, the leaders of the people. These are the people of power who had
initially been placed there by the Herodian dynasty. But something had happened, Herod’s son
Archelaus, had not been up to the task and so the Romans had replaced him with
their own Procurator. And it was the
Procurator who appointed the chief priests, the scribes and the leaders of the
people. No wonder they were out to kill
Jesus.
Something
now happens.
They
are the ones: the chief priests, the scribes and the elders who start asking a
very different set of questions. Not
genuine questions asked in a spirit of enquiry.
But trick questions designed to catch Jesus out.
And
the first of those questions goes to the heart of all that Jesus had stood for,
all that he had been about.
The
voice of the prophets had been silent until John the Baptist came on the
scene. In the first chapters of Luke
John plays a prominent part. We learn
about his birth as a cousin of Jesus’ we catch a glimpe of his preaching. And we see that he has re-kindled the spirit
of the prophets and declares in a forth right way the Word of the Lord to the
powers that be. They don’t like it. And the one who likes it least of all is the
powerful King Herod who rules in Galilee.
When John is arrested and Herod thinks he has silenced that prophetic
voice Jesus takes on the mantle of John and the prophets and maps out the
Kingdom of God that he is bringing in.
When he had is that John the Baptist is executed in the most gruesome of
ways as he is beheaded.
Luke 20:1-8
One day, as he was teaching the people in
the temple and telling the good news, the chief priests and the scribes came
with the elders and said to him, ‘Tell us, by what authority are you doing
these things? Who is it who gave you this authority?’ He answered them, ‘I
will also ask you a question, and you tell me: Did the baptism of John
come from heaven, or was it of human origin?’ They discussed it with one
another, saying, ‘If we say, “From heaven”, he will say, “Why did you not
believe him?” But if we say, “Of human origin”, all the people will stone
us; for they are convinced that John was a prophet.’ So they answered that
they did not know where it came from. Then Jesus said to them, ‘Neither
will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.’
These
are not questions asked in a genuine spirit of enquiry in a quest for the truth:
these are questions that are asked in a hostile spirit of animosity designed to
catch Jesus out and trip him up.
And
Jesus deals with the question in a powerful way. They cannot say John’s authority is from
heaven, because Jesus knows they are the cronies of Herod Antipas and so he
will simply turn round and ask them Why they didn’t believe in him? And they cannot say, Of human origin, because
they know that John had indeed been recognised by so many people as one of that
ancient line of prophets.
So
Jesus keeps mum too!
Then
comes that most ominous of parables.
It’s not just a good story. It deliberately echoes one of the great
themes of the prophets of old, the theme we encountered in the first of our
readings from Isaiah 5.
Let
me sing for my beloved
My
love-song concerning his vineyard.
For
the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel,
And
the people of Judah are his pleasant planting…
He
expected justice, but saw bloodshed,
Righteousness,
but heard a cry!
As
then, so now.
As
Jesus tells the story of the owner of the vineyard who sends slaves to tend it,
the powers that be must have squirmed for they too had sent the messengers of
God away – this is what happened to the prophets, right down to John the
Baptist.
There’s
something ominous as in Jesus story the owner of the vineyard finally sends a
son … but he too is rejected, indeed he is killed.
Luke 20:9-19
He began to tell the people this parable:
‘A man planted a vineyard, and leased it to tenants, and went to another
country for a long time. When the season came, he sent a slave to the
tenants in order that they might give him his share of the produce of the
vineyard; but the tenants beat him and sent him away empty-handed. Next he
sent another slave; that one also they beat and insulted and sent away
empty-handed. And he sent yet a third; this one also they wounded and
threw out. Then the owner of the vineyard said, “What shall I do? I will
send my beloved son; perhaps they will respect him.” But when the tenants
saw him, they discussed it among themselves and said, “This is the heir; let us
kill him so that the inheritance may be ours.” So they threw him out of
the vineyard and killed him. What then will the owner of the vineyard do to
them? He will come and destroy those tenants and give the vineyard to
others.’ When they heard this, they said, ‘Heaven forbid!’
But he looked at them and said,
‘What then does this text mean:
“The stone that the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone”?
Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.’
When the scribes and chief priests
realized that he had told this parable against them, they wanted to lay hands
on him at that very hour, but they feared the people.
How
right they were! They knew the story was
aimed at them.
And
still the questions came, questions asked in a hostile spirit of animosity
designed to catch Jesus out and trip him up, questions about paying taxes,
about the resurrection.
How
much better those questions that are asked in a genuine spirit of enquiry in a
quest for the truth … heed the insights of Jesus, Love God, Love your
neighbour, remember the story of the one who showed mercy … and then Go and do
likewise!
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