HOLY WEEK: Peter's Denial

We left the last post hanging on the question of whether or not Judas was the only betrayer. I ask that question because I think the story demands we see the tension of another betrayer.

After running from the Sanhedrin’s arrest on the Mount of Olives, John uses his connections with someone, presumably a servant in the High Priest’s household, to get them onto the private grounds of Jesus’s trial. As we’ve mentioned before, it should be noted that Jesus is not standing a public trial in front of the formal Sanhedrin, but is instead being tried informally (and unjustly) by the mafia-style Sanhedrin, meeting at the High Priest’s house. This is clear from the Text.

We are told that Peter is in the courtyard, hanging out with those who are warming themselves by the fire while all the commotion is happening. It’s impressive to consider that John and Peter sneak onto the grounds of this house once we realize they are standing in the home of the “godfather” figure of the corrupt priesthood. As Peter tries to keep a low profile (we have no idea what happens to John), Jesus is persecuted and tried throughout the evening.

As Peter is standing near the fire, he is confronted more than once about his identity; according to one gospel account, he even tries to leave the group and relocate and is still confronted about who he is. Eventually, exactly as Jesus predicted, Peter denies his association with the rabbi on trial inside, and we are told he meets the gaze of Jesus himself as the rooster crows. In an eerie moment of the story, Peter rushes out of the courtyard to his home and proceeds to weep bitterly for what he has done.

Not many of us catch the gravity of what Peter has just done. For a talmid to publicly disassociate with the rabbi is unheard of in rabbinical discipleship — the truest form of a slap to his teacher’s face. In fact, on a lot of levels, if you read this story in context, it is tempting to think Peter’s denial is a much deeper betrayal than that of Judas. Judas made his error while being misguided in his understanding of Jesus’s mission, while Peter refuses to associate with the man at all.

One can see the significance of this moment by watching Jesus’s interaction with Peter in the gospel of John. After the crucifixion, Peter and some of the disciples have gone home and started working. Peter understands that his time as a disciple is done; he has forsaken the rabbi, and this is a cardinal offense.

This is also how the others would have seen it. It is interesting to realize that without the account of John’s gospel, we would know very little about the life of Peter (outside of the book of Acts). All three synoptic gospels allow Peter to be characterized by his worst moment, without ever mentioning his name again. It is only Peter’s best friend, John, who gives us insight into the personal and intimate reinstatement of Peter as a disciple — and as the ring-leader of the the havurah.

Consider this passage from the ending of the gospel of Mark:

But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’ ”

Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.

Go tell the disciples… and Peter.

If the angel doesn’t specify Peter, the women will leave him out, because Peter isn’t a disciple anymore.

Peter has blown it. He made the ultimate mistake.

You don’t come back from denying your rabbi.

And yet, the authors of the gospels are adamant throughout that Peter is not the betrayer — Judas is. I think one of the reasons the gospel writers keep pointing this out is because a typical first-century reader (especially a Jewish reader) is not going to identify Judas as the betrayer, but Peter.

So what is it about Peter and Judas that makes Judas “the one who betrayed Jesus”?

I would suggest it is the way their story ends. They both make huge mistakes. One of them misjudges who their teacher is and what he’s up to in the world. The other disassociates and denies even the slightest connection to their rabbi. Both are wrong. 

But one chooses to let his story end there. And one chooses to let himself be reinstated.

I have NO desire for this to become a teaching about suicide. I am trying to speak to the larger, poetic nuances of the story itself. I am trying to speak to the meta-narrative arc of your story and mine — how it fits within God’s bigger story. I have far too many close friends who struggle with clinical depression and battle against suicide. Throwing rocks at those who struggle with such things would be a betrayal of the very story we are reading. And projecting anything other than that onto my words would be inaccurate. I am not making grandiose statements about the choice of suicide or their eternal destination. Not even in the slightest.

But this is a story about hope.

The only true betrayal of Jesus and what he stood for would be to believe there is no tomorrow — to believe there is no coming back from this.

Judas decides his mistakes cannot be overcome. Judas decides his story will end here. Judas decides there is no coming back.

Judas, the one who betrayed Jesus.

But Jesus’s entire ministry has been and always will be about the God of Second Chances. And the God of Third Chances. And the God of Endless Grace and Bottomless Hope.

Peter is willing to walk on a beach with Jesus and face his greatest fears. Peter is willing to stare down his greatest insecurities. Peter is willing to trust that when his rabbi says he’s still worth saving and still fit to feed his sheep — he means it.

And Peter is willing to trust Jesus to give him a new tomorrow.

This story has always been a story about new tomorrows. This story has always been about allowing God to write incredible endings. This story has always been an invitation to trust that God says you have value and acceptance and worth.

This story has always been a reminder that you aren’t defined by your biggest mistakes, your deepest insecurities, or your worst fears.

Your rabbi says that a new tomorrow is accessible for you today. Will you trust him?

HOLY WEEK: Judas

One of the most interesting characters in the gospels is that of Judas Iscariot. Much is thought of and projected upon this character, and I find a deeper understanding of the (at least possible) cultural setting makes this conversation much more helpful in my learning from the story. Learning from the story would be the reason to study it, rather than simply having “feelings” about the characters. I think learning about the person of Judas is what brings so much humanity to the story, the disciples, and the betrayal of Jesus.

We don’t know a whole lot about Judas until this final week of Jesus’s life. We know Judas is in charge of the money. It becomes clear that the disciples (particularly the writers of the gospels) have identified him as the betrayer. We know he has a least a pseudo-concern for the poor, although John seems to suggest Judas was a thief who would steal from the moneybag.

But what might help us the most is to examine his name, Judas Iscariot. “Iscariot” is a combination of the Hebrew ish (meaning “man”) and Cariot, which gives us “Judas, man from Cariot.” There is ample evidence to suggest this name identifies Judas as a Zealot. Knowing this about Judas could help us learn a ton about him; for instance, this would explain his pseudo-concern for the poor, as the Zealots were increasingly frustrated with the oppression of their Jewish brothers (sympathetic brothers, of course). Zealots were often thieves at heart, believing in a “Robin Hood” mentality of taking what was needed for the greater good. I can even imagine Judas immediately volunteering for the job of treasurer, in contrast to the nasty tax-collector named Levi/Matthew, whom a good Zealot would have hated immensely for everything they represent.

Nevertheless, what this would truly help us understand is the betrayal of Judas himself. It is entirely probable that Judas, after hearing Jesus’s electrified and confrontational teachings directed at the chief priests that week (a group the Zealots hated and typically sought to assassinate), misread Jesus’s intentions — as most of the disciples did — and sought to kick off this inevitable revolution by betraying Jesus into the hands of his enemies, knowing this would spark the revolt he knew was coming.

This would also offer an explanation as to why Judas is so wrecked with guilt that he will commit suicide. He completely misread the situation. When he realizes he has betrayed his rabbi and started a process that led to his execution, he cannot believe his misfortune nor bear his misdeeds.

Peter Rollins (in Fidelity of Betrayal) has gone as far as to suggest that Judas and Jesus had a prearranged agreement, that Jesus had asked Judas to betray him, knowing he would be one of the only ones with enough zeal to pull it off. While I don’t agree with this theory, it does provide some insight into why Jesus says some of the things he says to Judas that night (e.g., “What you need to do, do quickly.”). Again, I’m not sure I see enough in the gospel accounts (and elsewhere) to fully embrace this theory, but I find it interesting to consider.

At any rate, it should be noted that even Judas has a phenomenal commitment to the Text up until his last moment. Have you ever considered why Judas throws his silver coins into the Temple? How does he get in there? You don’t just run into the Temple at night (let alone during the day); of course, Zealots were known for storming the Temple courts and assassinating priests as they served. Consider the words of Zechariah as he denounced the shepherds of God’s people:

The flock detested me, and I grew weary of them and said, “I will not be your shepherd. Let the dying die, and the perishing perish. Let those who are left eat one another’s flesh.”

Then I took my staff called Favor and broke it, revoking the covenant I had made with all the nations. It was revoked on that day, and so the oppressed of the flock who were watching me knew it was the word of the LORD.

I told them, “If you think it best, give me my pay; but if not, keep it.” So they paid me thirty pieces of silver.

And the LORD said to me, “Throw it to the potter”—the handsome price at which they valued me! So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter at the house of the Lord.

Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel.

Then the LORD said to me, “Take again the equipment of a foolish shepherd. For I am going to raise up a shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves.

“Woe to the worthless shepherd,
    who deserts the flock!
May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!
    May his arm be completely withered,
    his right eye totally blinded!”

Judas responds to his plight with grand statements from the Text! How badly we need to know our whole Bibles in order to understand truly the parts that we do read!

But I continue to be struck by the realization that Jesus’s disciples thought they were staging a Zealot-like rebellion the entire time. This wasn’t only Judas’s error. Make no mistake about it: Up until Jesus’s crucifixion (and even after), the disciples are waiting for the great revolution. They think their rabbi is a Zealot. Of course, it’s easy to see how you might take a few of Jesus’s teachings and believe that — Jesus made some electrifying statements.

But it makes me wonder how often I misread the intent of Jesus. It makes me examine how often I might misunderstand what Jesus is trying to do in the world because of how I choose to hear some of his teachings while ignoring the rest.

I continue to be challenged by the story of Judas.

But is he the only betrayer?

HOLY WEEK: Judas

One of the most interesting characters in the gospels is that of Judas Iscariot. Much is thought of and projected upon this character, and I find a deeper understanding of the (at least possible) cultural setting makes this conversation much more helpful in my learning from the story. Learning from the story would be the reason to study it, rather than simply having “feelings” about the characters. I think learning about the person of Judas is what brings so much humanity to the story, the disciples, and the betrayal of Jesus.

We don’t know a whole lot about Judas until this final week of Jesus’s life. We know Judas is in charge of the money. It becomes clear that the disciples (particularly the writers of the gospels) have identified him as the betrayer. We know he has a least a pseudo-concern for the poor, although John seems to suggest Judas was a thief who would steal from the moneybag.

But what might help us the most is to examine his name, Judas Iscariot. “Iscariot” is a combination of the Hebrew ish (meaning “man”) and Cariot, which gives us “Judas, man from Cariot.” There is ample evidence to suggest this name identifies Judas as a Zealot. Knowing this about Judas could help us learn a ton about him; for instance, this would explain his pseudo-concern for the poor, as the Zealots were increasingly frustrated with the oppression of their Jewish brothers (sympathetic brothers, of course). Zealots were often thieves at heart, believing in a “Robin Hood” mentality of taking what was needed for the greater good. I can even imagine Judas immediately volunteering for the job of treasurer, in contrast to the nasty tax-collector named Levi/Matthew, whom a good Zealot would have hated immensely for everything they represent.

Nevertheless, what this would truly help us understand is the betrayal of Judas himself. It is entirely probable that Judas, after hearing Jesus’s electrified and confrontational teachings directed at the chief priests that week (a group the Zealots hated and typically sought to assassinate), misread Jesus’s intentions — as most of the disciples did — and sought to kick off this inevitable revolution by betraying Jesus into the hands of his enemies, knowing this would spark the revolt he knew was coming.

This would also offer an explanation as to why Judas is so wrecked with guilt that he will commit suicide. He completely misread the situation. When he realizes he has betrayed his rabbi and started a process that led to his execution, he cannot believe his misfortune nor bear his misdeeds.

Peter Rollins (in Fidelity of Betrayal) has gone as far as to suggest that Judas and Jesus had a prearranged agreement, that Jesus had asked Judas to betray him, knowing he would be one of the only ones with enough zeal to pull it off. While I don’t agree with this theory, it does provide some insight into why Jesus says some of the things he says to Judas that night (e.g., “What you need to do, do quickly.”). Again, I’m not sure I see enough in the gospel accounts (and elsewhere) to fully embrace this theory, but I find it interesting to consider.

At any rate, it should be noted that even Judas has a phenomenal commitment to the Text up until his last moment. Have you ever considered why Judas throws his silver coins into the Temple? How does he get in there? You don’t just run into the Temple at night (let alone during the day); of course, Zealots were known for storming the Temple courts and assassinating priests as they served. Consider the words of Zechariah as he denounced the shepherds of God’s people:

The flock detested me, and I grew weary of them and said, “I will not be your shepherd. Let the dying die, and the perishing perish. Let those who are left eat one another’s flesh.”

Then I took my staff called Favor and broke it, revoking the covenant I had made with all the nations. It was revoked on that day, and so the oppressed of the flock who were watching me knew it was the word of the LORD.

I told them, “If you think it best, give me my pay; but if not, keep it.” So they paid me thirty pieces of silver.

And the LORD said to me, “Throw it to the potter”—the handsome price at which they valued me! So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter at the house of the Lord.

Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel.

Then the LORD said to me, “Take again the equipment of a foolish shepherd. For I am going to raise up a shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves.

“Woe to the worthless shepherd,
    who deserts the flock!
May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!
    May his arm be completely withered,
    his right eye totally blinded!”

Judas responds to his plight with grand statements from the Text! How badly we need to know our whole Bibles in order to understand truly the parts that we do read!

But I continue to be struck by the realization that Jesus’s disciples thought they were staging a Zealot-like rebellion the entire time. This wasn’t only Judas’s error. Make no mistake about it: Up until Jesus’s crucifixion (and even after), the disciples are waiting for the great revolution. They think their rabbi is a Zealot. Of course, it’s easy to see how you might take a few of Jesus’s teachings and believe that — Jesus made some electrifying statements.

But it makes me wonder how often I misread the intent of Jesus. It makes me examine how often I might misunderstand what Jesus is trying to do in the world because of how I choose to hear some of his teachings while ignoring the rest.

I continue to be challenged by the story of Judas.

But is he the only betrayer?

HOLY WEEK: The Plot to Kill Jesus

The conversation about “who killed Jesus” is a very electric topic that you don’t dive into hastily. With so much antisemitism that swirls under the surface, handling this question can be a ticking time bomb. Nevertheless, it is interesting to make some very basic observations about what gets Jesus in so much trouble.

Without a doubt, I will not let Rome off the hook in this story, but I want to deal with Rome and Pilate in a later post, so I won’t talk about them here. There is no question that Rome plays a part in the crucifixion of Jesus. They have to: The Jewish leadership does not have the judicial authority to execute prisoners by crucifixion. So, at the very least, Rome authorizes the death of Jesus.

But what gets Jesus in trouble is something far deeper than the Roman authorities. This would be the perfect place to go back and review our lesson that explained the context of the Sadducees and the chief priests.

There are a few things that should be stated right up front:

“The Jews” didn’t kill Jesus. This has been one of the most destructive misinterpretations of history the world has ever seen. Millions of Jews have been slaughtered in the name of this false idea. All throughout the gospels, it is clear the Jewish people loved, adored, and even revered Jesus. The plot to kill Jesus hinges completely upon executing Jesus outside the eye of the Jewish public so they won’t rebel against the Jewish leaders. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the phrase, “Jesus entered Jerusalem to cheers from the crowd only to be crucified by them a week later.” To be very clear, it was not the same crowd. Jesus is arrested, tried, and beaten by a corrupt body of ruling priests and their “mafia-style justice.”

Even though the Pharisees helped arrange this plot (at least a few of them did), the Pharisees were not the ones who led the charge in this execution. This is completely unappreciated in our teachings. The Pharisees and the Sadducees despised each other! That they would work together to conspire against Jesus is incredible culturally. It makes me think the Pharisees involved were as corrupt as the chief priests. One must keep in mind that the Pharisees tried to save Jesus’s life more than once earlier on in his ministry.

It is the chief priests who conspire against Jesus and arrange his execution. It’s worth noticing that Jesus spends three years confronting the Pharisees within every corner of their theology and survives to tell the tale, and even continues to engage them in their methods up until his death. Compare that to the fact Jesus spends less than one week confronting the corrupt rule of the chief priests and he gets himself killed. This is why Jesus knows he is going to die in Jerusalem. It’s not because he has his “God goggles” on, looking into the future; it’s because he knows he is headed into Jerusalem to confront the injustice of the religious mafia — and nobody survives to tell that tale.

Once we have an understanding of the corruption that lied behind the execution of Jesus, it helps us appreciate the story on so many levels.

Why Jesus is tried by the “Sanhedrin”? Josephus told us there were two groups of Sanhedrin: there was the formal ruling body made up of Sadducees and Pharisees, and there was the the informal back-door Sanhedrin who met in the home of the chief priest. They made decisions that were later “ratified” in the formal body. That’s how this corruption operated. Where was Jesus tried? In the home of the chief priest. This is not the formal Sanhedrin, but the informal one.

This helps us see why the trial of Jesus is so corrupt, breaking over fifteen commandments held by Jewish teaching about how to conduct an investigation and hold a trial appropriately. They break all of these rules because they don’t care. They are the chief priests.

This will help us understand the political sway that this group will hold over Pilate later. 

This will help us understand many things. My recommendation would be to go back and read the story again, realizing that the “chief priests” are corrupt families running a completely corrupt Temple system.

But now we need to discuss the betrayer who assists in bringing this plan to action.

Thoughts on a Week of Passion

I now reach the point of my blog series where we encounter the depth of what’s been called “Passion Week” or “Holy Week” — essentially the last week of Jesus’s life that leads up to his crucifixion.

As a teacher, I don’t like teaching on the crucifixion. And I’m not sure why, exactly.

I don’t like to make one of the most sacred and significant acts in all of human history merely an academic exercise. I don’t think there is anything wrong in dealing with the cross from an academic perspective — not at all. I am thankful for those who have and do; their studies have meant a lot to me and I cherish their work.

Maybe it’s because I have spent my whole life in the church, surrounded by the discussion that finds its center at the cross of Christ. Maybe it’s that I still find myself captivated by its story and testimony. Maybe it’s the week when I chose not to go with my parents to my grandfather’s funeral, sitting instead at a Good Friday service and weeping uncontrollably for reasons I still don’t understand. I have never cried like that in all my life. To this day, hearing the the hymn Were You There When They Crucified My Lord? will bring me to my knees.

Maybe it’s all of the above.

I don’t know why, but the gospel accounts on the crucifixion cause me to want to write poetry and speak eloquently — not talk about history.

Captivating. Thundering. Deep. Moving. Profound. Disturbing. Soothing.

These are all words that only begin to scratch the surface of what I experience on Good Friday every year, in a story that speaks volumes into my heart with words I don’t fully understand.

There are moments when I see the order of death tap out in submission to something more profound than defeat could ever be.

There are moments when I feel as though God has joined us in all of our sorrow and it is so good to have His company.

There are moments when I sense the greatest statement of love that could ever be expressed, and the truly unique, counterintuitive story of a God who would lay down His life for others.

There are moments of anger when I see the injustice and confusion at why the death is necessary…

Which leads me to thoughts about atonement and how I am so thankful that so many theologians are asking such important questions about what the Bible actually teaches on atonement. These questions are important because they reach to the core of our understanding of the heart of God. Why would He die? Why would He have to die? Did He have to die? How is any of this explained logically?

These questions are important, because as I sit in those Good Friday services, I need to understand what I am witnessing and remembering.

What am I supposed to see at the cross?

While I won’t be writing about my thoughts on atonement theory, I would recommend a couple books by Tony Jones; one is A Better Atonement, a fantastic e-book that is only three chapters long. While I have not read the other book, I do know that I am greatly looking forward to Did God Kill Jesus? There is a great conversation in theological circles these days about an appropriate understanding of atonement. How did the early Christians understand Jesus’s death on the cross (Ransom-Captive Theory)? How has atonement theory evolved over time (theories like Christus Victor)? What are the dangers we find in Substitutionary Atonment (the theory held by most evangelicals today)?

Wrestling with what I believe the Scriptures teach about atonement has done nothing but help me in being captivated by the story of the cross. It has only heightened my awareness of some of the feelings, emotions, and images that surround the crucifixion.

Needless to say, I will not be attacking the Text from the same angle as I have been through this series. I don’t like dealing with the story that way. What I will be doing is taking a look at some of the aspects of the story from an independent reference point. Here is what I hope to write about:

HOLY WEEK: The Plot to Kill Jesus

HOLY WEEK: Judas

HOLY WEEK: Peter’s Denial

HOLY WEEK: Rome

Then we’ll have a discussion on the Resurrection (where I will indeed wax eloquent) and some thoughts about The Great Commission before we dive into the book of Acts.

My prayer is that the story of the cross is as meaningful of an experience to you as it is to me — that it would speak on levels my words simply never could.

Faithful and Wise Steward (part three)

Before reading this post, you should certainly should check out part one and part two in order to have an idea of where the discussion is headed.

Now that we have looked at the overall teaching of Jesus in Matthew 24 and looked at the rough p’shat readings of these parables, it’s time to wrestle with the potential details, the remezes, and the drash meaning that lies underneath the packaged teaching of Matthew 24–25. Before we do that, let’s review what we had as a synopsis of Jesus’s teaching points in the last post:

You’re going to hear rumors of the end and false messiahs; do not believe it.

The world is going to get crazy and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

All of this is going to have to happen and you will have to persevere.

You will have to be ready; being ready means taking care of God’s people.

Parable of the Foolish Bridesmaids — be ready!

The priests aren’t doing it, so you will have to.

Parable of the Talents — you’ll have to give an account.

Persevere and be ready by taking care of the oppressed.

Parable of the Sheep and Goats — take care of the oppressed and do what the priests aren’t doing.

FOOLISH BRIDESMAIDS (vv. 1–13)

If you want to look at a suggested remez, I would offer up Jeremiah 25:

Therefore the Lord Almighty says this: “Because you have not listened to my words, I will summon all the peoples of the north and my servant Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon,” declares the Lord, “and I will bring them against this land and its inhabitants and against all the surrounding nations. I will completely destroy them and make them an object of horror and scorn, and an everlasting ruin. I will banish from them the sounds of joy and gladness, the voices of bride and bridegroom, the sound of millstones and the light of the lamp. This whole country will become a desolate wasteland, and these nations will serve the king of Babylon seventy years.”

The key to looking at all of these references is going to be the larger context of each remez. Would it make sense in the context of Matthew 24–25 that Jesus would remez the use of Nebuchadnezzar as a tool of God to destroy the people and remove the sounds of joy and weddings from their midst? Would it make sense that Jesus’s drash would be the use of Rome to destroy the city of Jerusalem? Wasn’t that the point of the whole conversation of Matthew 24? Brilliant.

THE TALENTS (vv. 14–30)

Beyond just the remez, it should be worth noting the details of this parable are so strange to us because the context of Jesus’s original parable is the life and reign of Herod Antipas. In Jesus’s original parable (the parallel story of the ten minas, found in Luke 19), we are given additional details that help us understand the parable of the talents. In the parable of the minas, Jesus is employing a rabbinical tool known as kal va’omer (“greater and lesser”). In this teaching method, the rabbi uses a negative example to portray a universal trait; after making the case that the trait is true, the rabbi then will say “how much more” it is true in a positive example.

In the case of the minas and talents, the cultural backdrop is the life and reign of Antipas. When Herod the Great died, he willed his kingdom to his three sons. Upon his death, the three sons set sail on three different ships for Rome in order to bring gifts to Caesar and ask him to honor their father’s will. The Jews (Pharisees) also sent a delegation on a fourth ship to plead with Caesar not to make Antipas king. Caesar decided to name Anitpas a “tetrarch” (just lower than a king) and Antipas blamed the Jews for the decision. Upon his return, Antipas made an example of the Jews who were left at home and slaughtered them by the thousands.

This cultural setting is the backdrop to the kal va’omer that is the parable of the ten minas. The parable of the talents, a parallel story told later by Jesus, employs the same teaching points. The point of the parable (as seen in the last post) is that you will have to give an account for what you have been entrusted with. This is the universal principle that is true for both positive and negative examples (Jesus’s kal va’omer). 

Consider the following as the remez (from 2 Kings 22):

In the eighteenth year of his reign, King Josiah sent the secretary, Shaphan son of Azaliah, the son of Meshullam, to the temple of the Lord. He said: “Go up to Hilkiah the high priest and have him get ready the money that has been brought into the temple of the Lord, which the doorkeepers have collected from the people. Have them entrust it to the men appointed to supervise the work on the temple. And have these men pay the workers who repair the temple of the Lord—the carpenters, the builders and the masons. Also have them purchase timber and dressed stone to repair the temple. But they need not account for the money entrusted to them, because they are honest in their dealings.”

Again, context will be everything. But this story comes at a point in the story where they are cleaning out the temple and they find the Book of the Law. Those doing the work of restoration (not the priests, mind you—they lost the Book of the Law) are entrusted with money to aid them in repairing the Temple of God. Because they are honest in their dealings, they do not have to give account for what they do with the money. Do you suppose Jesus’s drash could be that those who are not priests should do the work of restoring the presence of God in the world? And if they are honest in their dealings in response to the priests’ dishonesty, they won’t even have to worry about giving an account, because they have done the will of the LORD?

THE SHEEP AND GOATS (vv. 31–46)

This one, to me, is an easy grab for a remez. Consider Ezekiel 34:

“ ‘As for you, my flock, this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I will judge between one sheep and another, and between rams and goats. Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture? Must you also trample the rest of your pasture with your feet? Is it not enough for you to drink clear water? Must you also muddy the rest with your feet? Must my flock feed on what you have trampled and drink what you have muddied with your feet?”

And here, the context is a condemnation of the priesthood (throughout the entire chapter). So the drash would be that God will divide His flock into sheep and goats; the context of the chapter will make it clear the deciding factor will be how they treat others.

So I guess Jesus wasn’t teaching a brand new parable, was he?

Shocked? We shouldn’t be.

When one views the threaded teachings and the three parables together, it becomes very clear how brilliant this entire teaching is on multiple levels. The remez/drash readings of these parables together would look something like the following:

God is about to use Rome as a “Nebuchadnezzar” of sorts to judge the people of God. You should be a faithful worker who can be trusted with the investments of the kingdom, even if the priests will not. Remember, you will be judged by how you treated others.

It’s the same teaching we heard in Matthew 24. Jesus put it into three parables and it was the same teaching on a p’shat level. We dug deeper and realized this is in fact the same story we have been learning all along. The same lesson, the same meaning, the same teaching.

I like this Jesus guy. He’s something else.

Faithful and Wise Steward (part two)

After addressing the disciples’ questions about the coming of “the end,” Jesus reinforces his teaching like he’s done so many times by telling a series of parables. Jesus tells three parables in rapid succession — the parable of the foolish bridesmaids, the parable of the talents, and the parable of the sheep and goats. Now, instead of having to place all of the biblical text here in this post, I’m simply going to invite you to take the time to pause and read Matthew 25 (and maybe even brush up on the previous post and the conversation in Matthew 24).

Rather than deal with all three parables separately, as we have been doing, discussing the different levels of interpretation for each one, I would like to deal with the p’shat level readings of these three parables together so that we might appreciate immediately what Jesus (and Matthew) is trying to accomplish by packaging this teaching together.

THE FOOLISH BRIDESMAIDS (vv. 1–13)

The p’shat of this teaching should be somewhat obvious. Jesus is telling a parable to reinforce the need to be ready and the foolishness of not being prepared. As we’ve looked at before, the context of Jewish weddings helps us to understand the foolishness of the bridesmaids. After a couple’s betrothal, the groom disappears for an undetermined length of time as he prepares their home and a place for them to be wed. The bride-to-be has no idea how long this will take and must be ready for the groom’s arrival. How foolish would it be for the bridesmaids not to be ready for the great celebration? This would be a matter of great anticipation in the village; wouldn’t everyone be ready for the coming of the groom?

THE TALENTS (vv. 14–30)

We’ll talk more about the confusing details of this parable in the next post, but we’ll consider this a p’shat observation of the teaching: Jesus wants to convey that people will have to give an account for what they have done with God’s Kingdom. How have they used what God has given them? It might also be worth noting here that the amount of the talents may be pointing to something. Do you remember the talk we had about the meaning of numbers? Consider that each member of this story is a particular number of talents. The first is given five (Books of Moses), the second is given two (the Tablets of Moses), and the third is given one (God). You don’t suppose there could be any hints about those that are given a deep knowledge of the Text, those who have a basic knowledge of the Text, and those who just have an experience with God — do you? God expects you to use what you have to bless the world around you.

THE SHEEP AND GOATS (vv. 31–46)

We are very familiar with this parable, and the p’shat within this teaching is also obvious. What we typically take away from this teaching is the criteria of the judgment — what it is that condemns the goats as goats. The sheep are praised because they take care of those in need. They hear the cry and they care for the marginalized. The goats are condemned because they do not join and partner with Him in bringing justice (mishpat) to the world. What does God care about?

When the Groom comes, will we be ready? Will we be able to give an account of how we have used what He gave us? We know what He will be looking for and the account that will matter; He will want us to care for those in need.

Now, let’s take the summary from the last post and combine it with the teaching points seen here before we dive into the remez and the drash contained in the teachings above:

You’re going to hear rumors of the end and false messiahs; do not believe it.

The world is going to get crazy and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

All of this is going to have to happen and you will have to persevere.

You will have to be ready; being ready means taking care of God’s people.

Parable of the Foolish Bridesmaids — be ready!

The priests aren’t doing it, so you will have to.

Parable of the Talents — you’ll have to give an account.

Persevere and be ready by taking care of the oppressed.

Parable of the Sheep and Goats — take care of the oppressed and do what the priests aren’t doing.

Do you see how Jesus’s parables are great reinforcements to His teaching to His disciples? And all of that is from a p’shat level observation. So let’s keep digging. Got your shovel?