farewell again

We have completed our study of the parables of Jesus.  It has been eye-opening, as well as fun, but it is now time to bring back the dogs as we say farewell for a few weeks.  We will start again in 2012.

wealth as God

In The Compassionate Christ, Walter Bowie describes those who come under the spell of affluence—especially those in the church.  (Please forgive the gender exclusive language.)  “Does he not sit in his pew on Sundays, send his children to Sunday school, say his memorized grace at dinner?  He likes to consider himself a Christian—if it does not cost too much.  But in the decisive matters, he cannot serve God and mammon; and gradually God fades out.” (217)

Bowie offers that as commentary on the parable of the dishonest manager, which is at the beginning of Luke 16.  Jesus tells the story of a manager who has been caught embezzling his employer’s money.  He notes how the manager craftily thinks on his feet to make sure that after he’s fired, he will earn enough good will to prevent his becoming destitute.  Jesus asks, “If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches?” (v. 11).  He sums up, “You cannot serve God and wealth” (v. 13). 

“Mammon” was originally the god of property.  It morphed into a term for affluence when it is idolized.  And if there were ever a people who idolize affluence, it would be we Americans.  That’s especially highlighted during Advent—I mean, during the shopping days before Christmas.

“I followed all the rules”

In the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32), the story takes a sharp turn at verse 25:  “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing.”  The older son finds out that his younger brother has returned home, after wasting his share of the inheritance.  His father not only is welcoming him, but he’s throwing a big party.  The older brother feels horribly slighted, because he has never been disobedient.

There’s a scene in the movie Legends of the Fall (1994) that reminds me of their relationship.  Very briefly, the movie is about the retired Colonel Ludlow (played by Anthony Hopkins) and his three sons, who live in early twentieth century Montana.  At various times, all of the sons are in love with Susannah (played by Julia Ormond).  The youngest, Samuel, dies in World War 1.  The oldest, Alfred (Aidan Quinn) and his surviving brother, Tristan (Brad Pitt), vie for her affections.  Susannah is heartbroken when Tristan refuses to commit to her, and instead, decides to travel the world.  After she dies by her own hand, at her gravesite, Alfred says to Tristan, “I followed all the rules, man’s and God’s.  And you, you followed none of them.  And they all loved you more.  Samuel, Father, and my…even my own wife.”

In a parable in which the older brother is usually painted as a jerk, I find that it’s important to humanize all of the characters. 

(The image is Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son.)

this Samaritan is a good one

The doodling to the left are my notes from twenty years ago on a presentation I gave to the youth group in our church.  (It was in a notebook that I still have.)  At the top I ask the same question that the expert in the Mosaic law puts to Jesus.  His inquiry, “Who is my neighbor?” follows Jesus’ commendation of his statement that it is necessary to love God and neighbor.  In replying to the lawyer’s question, Jesus tells the parable that has been titled the Good Samaritan.

I won’t dwell too long on the latent racism involved with that title.  In making a Samaritan the hero of the story, Jesus is tapping into the Jewish hatred for a people they considered to be mongrelized.  Centuries earlier, when the Assyrians invaded and destroyed the northern kingdom of Israel, many different groups moved in, and there was considerable mixing of ethnicities.  The point is that few, if any, of Jesus’ hearers would expect the Samaritan to do the right thing.  (Who would think such a thing?  He must be one of the good ones!)

Looking back on my notes from twenty years ago, there isn’t much I would change.  Toward the bottom of the page, I make a comment about those with AIDS being considered profane or unclean by some people.  That reflects the spirit of the time.  A few months later, Magic Johnson would reveal to the world that he was HIV positive.

I might modify my statement near the top of the page about the lawyer’s interest in “performing certain acts to guarantee his salvation.”  There is more going on here.

In telling his parable, Jesus distinguishes between static and dynamic concepts of “neighbor.”  That is, he sees it as a more fluid thing.  He takes the noun “neighbor”­—something that can categorized (either one is or one isn’t)—and turns it into a verb.

After telling the story of a man beaten and left for dead and the responses of the priest, Levite, and Samaritan, Jesus poses this to the lawyer:  “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” (Luke 10:36).  “Neighbor” is defined as an action.  He replies, “The one who showed him mercy.”  Finishing the transformation in thinking and being, Jesus adds, “Go and do likewise” (v. 37).

Maybe being a neighbor can make any of us “one of the good ones”! 

(The image is He Qi’s, “The Good Samaritan”)

sheepish goats

“I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink…I was imprisoned in a brothel and you rescued me.

So begins Daniel Walker’s book God in a Brothel.  It’s a bold and blunt beginning and the rest of the book is nothing but boldness and bluntness.  The book is a primer on the ugly reality of human slavery—particularly sex trafficking.”

That’s how United Methodist pastor Roger Wolsey begins his review of the book, which he titles “Santa in a Brothel.”  He explains the name by noting that, having just read the book, the Christmas season will soon upon us.

He continues, “The basis of the Santa Claus myth is memory of a real life good guy who helped people in need.  Nikolaos was a historic person who was born in Patara in Asia Minor (modern day Turkey) in the 4th Century A.D. Nikolaos’ wealthy parents died when he was young and he was raised by his uncle, the Bishop of Patara.  Nikolaos became a bishop of the early Christian Church Myra in Lycia (who wore red clerical robes).  While bishop he learned of three young sisters who were destined to a life of poverty, and likely prostitution.  Nikolaos intervened by providing dowries—an abundance of gold—to each of the girls (placing it in their stockings according to legend).”

As he says, we have lost the deep sense of compassion of the man.  Life-changing hospitality has become, as a shopping season, an economic barometer. 

As for the parable of the sheep and the goats itself (Mt 25:31-46), what really opened my own eyes to it was the song by Keith Green.  My roommate at Bible college introduced me to the artist who died in a plane crash in 1982.

with the hypocrites

At the end of the parable of the faithful and evil servants in Matthew 24, we’re told the fate of the inattentive servant who goofs off when the master is away.  This servant “begins to beat his fellow slaves, and eats and drinks with drunkards” (v. 49).  When the master returns and catches him unaware, he is not pleased.  The servant is consigned to an unpleasant outcome.  He is to be “cut…in pieces and put…with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (v. 51).

The primary focus of the parable is on watchfulness.  But that word “hypocrite,” or some variation of it, occurs over twenty times in the New Testament—the vast majority being in Matthew’s gospel.  This is the only parable in which it appears. 

Our word “hypocrite” comes directly from the Greek hupokritēs.  It originally meant “interpreter” (as in interpreter of dreams) or “one who explains.”  Later, it took on the meaning of “actor,” like one who performs in a play.  It had the idea of speaking the lines in a play.  It’s this definition of “actor” that was the commonly-understood meaning of the word for centuries.  There was not necessarily a derogatory sense associated with being a hypocrite.  That is, unless someone was in a position of trust, like a political or religious leader!

In fact, it appears that it’s only after the New Testament era that “hypocrite” takes on the metaphorical sense:  people pretending to be something other than what they are.

Can we think of ways in which, in the morally neutral sense of the term, we are hypocrites?  Can we think of ways in which we act or play a role?  Could it be that our interpretation is messed up? 

Does that ever cause us to weep and gnash our teeth?