Eyes that Cannot See

Now, let’s put the past posts into context and try to catch Matthew’s narrative arc as he tells this story. Matthew is not just simply telling a collection of random and disjointed stories, but a larger narrative with a larger agenda at play. So join me as we remember where we’ve been and try to piece together the bigger picture.

Let’s pick up with Jesus’s public entrance at the Sermon on the Mount. 

After the message (in chapters 5–7), Jesus has some encounters with people who land “outside the lines” and is amazed by their faith. 

In order to make his point, it appears Jesus travels to the Decapolis and heals the demoniac — the most unclean of the unclean. 

Jesus comes back to the Triangle and teaches the people of God about this Kingdom he is pronouncing. 

Jesus then attempts to get away to some solitude, but is followed by the multitudes. 

Jesus seizes the teaching opportunity and feeds the 5000 in order to teach the disciples about his mission. 

(It could be seen that Peter walking on the water is an affirmation that the disciples have what it take to do what Jesus is telling them to do.) 

Jesus finally gets away to Phonecia and finds some quiet. 

While there, Jesus realizes that his mission is even bigger than he originally thought. 

Jesus immediately puts this into a teaching lesson by traveling back to the Decapolis to feed the 4000. 

Finally, Jesus tells the disciples to beware the teaching of the religious leadership that will tell them this is unacceptable.

This “mission” of Jesus fits perfectly with Matthew’s larger agenda of the mumzer.

Add to this the story Mark has in his narrative and this teaching lesson gets even stronger. Mark interjects a story Matthew leaves out; immediately after Jesus’s warning about the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees, Mark tells the following story:

And they came to Bethsaida. And some people brought to him a blind man and begged him to touch him. And he took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village, and when he had spit on his eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, “Do you see anything?” And he looked up and said, “I see people, but they look like trees, walking.” Then Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again; and he opened his eyes, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly. And he sent him to his home, saying, “Do not even enter the village.”

Uh oh. Apparently Jesus didn’t get enough rest on his mini-sabbatical, because he’s having a hard time completing his miracles.

Or is he?

In typical rabbinic fashion, Jesus has turned this scenario into a teaching lesson. If you remember, when Jesus tells the disciples to beware the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees, the Text tells us they are confused and begin discussing the food supply (or lack thereof). Jesus’s response seems to be, “You’ve got to be kidding me! After all of that — after the 5000 and the woman with her daughter and the 4000 in the Decapolis — you think I’m talking about food?!” Listen to the words from Mark:

“Why are you discussing the fact that you have no bread? Do you not yet perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Having eyes do you not see, and having ears do you not hear? And do you not remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you take up?” They said to him, “Twelve.” “And the seven for the four thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you take up?” And they said to him, “Seven.” And he said to them, “Do you not yet understand?”

Jesus asks them if they have eyes, but cannot see.

The rabbi promptly demands they pull the boat over, stomps into Bethsaida, grabs a blind man and pulls him outside of town. He “heals” him in such a way that he has eyes, but cannot see. I imagine Jesus putting his hands on his hips and looking around at all the disciples, who begin to hang their heads. He then finishes the healing of the man and sends him on his way.

This is a perfect example of Jesus’s miracles being a teaching tool and not about the content of the miracle. This blind man is nothing more than a prop for Jesus’s teaching!

But Jesus’s point still stands out to his disciples. “I am here to reach the whole world. This Kingdom business is about everybody; all the people you thought were out are more in then you realize! Watch out for the religious; they aren’t going to like this message much!”

This lesson is going to mean so much to Jesus that he’s about to lead his disciples on a hike that will make his trip to the Decapolis look like a ride on a carousel.

5 Loaves, 2 Fish, and a Big Lesson

One of the next stories we run across in Matthew is the famous story of the feeding of the five thousand. Jesus moves from these long, cerebral conversations that surround parables and hidden teachings and, like a typical rabbi, changes pace and keeps the scenery fresh. His teaching now becomes more theatrical and “in action” than a spoken parable; he now puts his teaching into a real life picture.

But don’t be mistaken, the depth of the parable is still present in the depth of this teaching. This action by Jesus is far wider than simply a tug at his heart strings because of a bunch of hungry people. Which brings us to a point: Jesus is a typical rabbi in that everything he does is done with an incredible level of rabbinical intentionality; every move he makes he makes on purpose. He does not heal an invalid flippantly — he buries a teaching in the encounter. He does not rebuke the wind and the waves without tying it to Text.

And he doesn’t feed thousands of people just because they are hungry. No, there is much more going on here. Consider this portion of the story from the gospel of John:

When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.

Jesus already knew what he wanted to do and he brings his students into the situation for their next lesson. Of course, we are familiar with the story. He tells the disciples to feed the crowd and they balk at the request, reporting that they have a measly five loaves and two fish from a boy’s lunch. Jesus responds to their counter with a counter of his own. He tells the people to sit down, blesses God for the provision and begins to distribute the food to his disciples, who in turn distribute it to the people. Now, the reader is not told how the food grows or multiplies or expands, but we are told that by the time this gigantic meal is over, there are twelve baskets of leftovers.

Now, what stands out to a Jewish reader is all the numbers present in this story. Again, every Jewish teaching from a rabbi is going to be loaded with depth; the student is looking for clues and insight into the rabbi’s deeper lesson. As we’ve discussed before, numbers to an easterner are far more than just quantitative values. Numbers are a picture — they have qualitative meaning to the student. A story loaded with numbers is going to grab the attention of a Jewish reader. Five loaves, two fish, five thousand people, groups of fifty, twelve baskets of leftovers. These all have to mean something for the larger teaching.

There are numbers that mean certain things in the world of the Jew. Let me give you a non-comprehensive list of examples that will help us with this story. NOTE: This list is not comprehensive and many of these “qualitative meanings” change according to their setting and the point in Jewish history under consideration.

One: God

Two: Tablets of the Law of Moses

Three: Community (patriarchs or priest/Levites/Israelites)

Four: Four Corners of the Earth (Gentiles)

Five: Books of Moses

Six: Number of Sinful Man

Seven: Completeness (either of God’s goodness [creation] or pagan evil [seven nations of Canaan])

Ten: 3 + 7 — Complete Community

Twelve: Tribes of Israel

Now, let’s take a look at those numbers in the story again. This is a story full of “Jewish” numbers. (five, two, one thousand [10 x 10 x 10], and twelve). If we apply this understanding to the story, look at what happens to the teaching of Jesus.

Jesus takes the Law (five loaves [Books of Moses] and two fish [tablets]; this makes the complete law [5 + 2 = 7]) and he gives it to his disciples. His disciples feed the people of God (the Jewish people; five [Books of Moses] times ten [complete community] times ten times ten). When the people take and eat the Law that they received from the disciples as they received it from Jesus there is more than enough for all of God’s people (twelve [tribes of Israel] baskets of leftovers).

Jesus’s larger teaching point seems to be: “I am the second Moses (remember Jesus putting the people in groups of fifty? Think about the story of Jethro. What comes next? Moses gives them the Law). When you let me interpret the Law and completely trust me with it, there is more than enough to go around for all of you.”

Now, you don’t have to buy all of this number business if you just aren’t ready to go there yet, but I have a feeling in a few chapters that you will. And please do not turn this into a Bible Code. This is not a cryptic code “hidden” in the pages of Scripture; this is an objective discussion about rabbinic teaching points within an eastern worldview. And please understand how easy it is to try and force this “rule” on every number you find in the Bible. It doesn’t always work like this.

But again, we run into the fact that Jesus is doing things under the surface we never realized. It’s an eye-opener to see some of the things that have been “hidden” in plain sight just because we lack the cultural understanding of the Scriptures.

The Forgiveness of Abel

Jesus returns to the Triangle and begins teaching in a house. The home is so jam-packed with students that when a group of buddies come carrying their friend on a stretcher, they cannot enter the home. They proceed to climb to the roof of the insula and begin tearing through it. Now, in this culture, tearing through the roof is quite an ordeal; it’s going to take you many minutes, if not hours, to work up a sizable hole. This is a roof consisting of multiple layers of branches covered in mud, with more branches and more mud.

Keeping this in mind, it’s interesting to note the difference in cultures. In our world, upon seeing the determination of this group of do-gooders, we would stop the teaching, call them to come down (before they ruin someone’s home), and make space. But, in beautiful rabbinic fashion, this is not how the situation proceeds. We are not told the details, but you can imagine Jesus stops teaching, takes a seat, stares up at the hole appearing above Him, and crosses His arms with a look of, “Oh, this will be good!” Or does he keep teaching as dirt and other pieces of roof fall on His head?

Eventually, the paralyzed man is lowered through the roof and Jesus, having had time to think about His response, declares to the man that his sins are forgiven. Another fun detail to notice in the Text is that it says Jesus saw the faith of his friends. Does this intentionally suggest the man had no faith? It’s hard to say. But if he was struggling with faith, it wasn’t helped by the Rabbi talking about his sins. 

“Yes, thank you, Rabbi. I was obviously lowered through the roof to have my sins forgiven. Don’t mind my paralysis; it’s no big deal.”

But Jesus, as any Rabbi, is more concerned with His teaching point than His miracle. The miracle is a tool and the man is a prop for Jesus’s greater point. I don’t say this to be cold, as if Jesus was lacking in compassion; we are told quite the opposite multiple times in the gospels. Jesus is a very compassionate teacher, but the rabbinical method is about teaching the Text, and Jesus is going to do that through this paralyzed man.

I believe this teaching gives us a window into what Jesus’s lesson was about that day in the house. I think Jesus was talking about forgiveness.

As we’ve mentioned multiple times already, forgiveness was a tough conversation for Jews of the first century. They sat under the oppressive rule of Rome and were wrestling with the big questions of injustice.

Okay, it’s one thing to go to captivity because of disobedience; Babylon was understandable. But now, we are trying to do the right thing and God is not rescuing us from the Romans. Why? How can God let this happen?

And so the Jews looked for answers where they always look for answers: in the Text. They asked themselves, who was the first person in the Scriptures to suffer injustice for doing what was right? The answer: Abel.

Abel, the son of Adam. In Hebrew: Avel ben Adam.

But Adam is more than just a name. Adam in Hebrew also means “mankind.” So to be the “son of Adam” also means to be the son of man.

And the Jews said, “God has spoken to us about a Son of Man before! He told us in Daniel that the Son of Man will come riding on the clouds!”

And the belief began that Abel would come back and avenge the injustice of the ages. (How literal that belief was is the wrong question to ask.) Abel would avenge his blood, right the wrongs of the world, and bring shalom back to the chaos. Abel would be the fulfillment of the prophesy of Daniel.

Jesus’s words are stunning if this happens to be the context of His conversation that day in the house:

But Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he then said to the paralytic—“Rise, pick up your bed and go home.”

And Jesus says that, in fact, Abel might come back and forgive the sin of Cain.

That’s scandalous.

I was told by my teacher that Jesus is the only Jewish teacher in recorded history (before His day and since) ever to suggest that Abel will forgive the sin of Cain.

Not only that, but Jesus is facing the accusation of doing what they believed only God could do. There are only two figures who can forgive sins; one is God Himself, and the other is the High Priest, who has to be very careful about doing so without God’s blessing. It’s something that is done very rarely. But I think Jesus’s lesson that day was His continued invitation to join God in His pursuit of forgiveness.

If we’re going to put the world back together, we are going to have to partner with God to show mercy to those who don’t deserve it. And they don’t buy it. “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” they ask.

And Jesus puts a stamp of authority on His teaching by causing the paralytic to rise and walk. Jesus’s claim that Abel would forgive sins, Jesus’s invitation to join God in His redemptive work, His insistence that this is, in fact, what God asks of us — has the final exclamation point of a paralyzed man rising to his feet, dusting off his mat, and walking out of the house.

BOOM!

And the last line of Matthew’s account?

When the crowds saw it, they were afraid, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to men.

Authority to men. Authority to forgive sins. Authority to set people free.

Which is easier? To say to a man, “Your sins are forgiven,” or to make him walk? Luckily, it’s easier to forgive, because it’s been a while since I last healed a paralytic.