The Good Portion

A man schooled in rabbinic law challenged Jesus with a question: ‘‘Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?’’ Jesus turned the question back on him by asking, “What does the law say?” The lawyer responded with the “summation” of the law: love God with all of your being, and your neighbor as yourself. The conversation then focused on the second part of the summation, with Jesus offering the famous Good Samaritan parable and the lawyer being directed to go and do likewise. Given the concentration of the exchange, the command to love one’s neighbor as oneself, some commentators consider the vignette that follows an effort by Luke to illustrate the first part of the summation (Luke 10:38-42). I think they may be right. Fulfillment of the second part, no matter how robust, does not negate the primacy of the first.

Martha was busy with preparations to the point of distraction. She had invited Jesus into her home, but the task of entertaining her guest had actually caused her to neglect him. She had to be reoriented to the “one necessary” thing, the “good portion” that her sister Mary had chosen. That can happen, can’t it? We can get so focused in doing good things for Jesus (and desiring that one’s guest be well-fed and comfortable is a good thing) to the point of being overwhelmed by the anxiety they produce. That’s when we need to sit down next to Mary and listen. Jesus is the one necessary thing. He is the good portion. Whatever we do in his name must be done for his name.

For many, however, the idea of the Good Samaritan exists with no apparent connection to Jesus. A man can do many good works, be lauded a 'Good Samaritan,' and yet not begin to scratch the surface of loving God with all of his being. What might Jesus say to such a one? “Only one thing is necessary. Sit and listen to my word. All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows who the Son is except the Father, or who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him (10:22). Sit and listen. I am the one necessary thing.”

The Perfect Samaritan

The Good Samaritan is a parable that is almost too well known to be heard. It is often the case that we are so familiar with something that we no longer respond to it as we might if it were new to us. This is certainly true of oft-walked streets. We no longer see what’s around us as it all too familiar. I think the term “Good Samaritan” can be like that. People know what it means even if they’ve never heard the parable. And while it might be enlightening for them to actually read the story, they already know the basic message and, as a consequence, the greater import of the teaching can be missed.

It’s clear that the parable challenges us to transcend the racial and historic barriers that exist and, out of compassion for fellow human beings, be merciful. It’s effectiveness in communicating that ethic is evidenced by the many who have heeded the call to be a Good Samaritan, aware of the parable of not. But the initial inquiry was not for whom is one responsible, but how one obtains eternal life. The secondary issue arose as a self-justifying redirect of the conversation. Jesus’ illustrative parable calls the man (and us) to serve whoever is in need, regardless of our biases. But it also points to the answer of his initial question. 

What must be done to inherit eternal life? Fulfill the law -- fulfill the law by loving God with all of your being and your neighbor as yourself, and eternal life will be yours! There’s no amount of tweaking neighborly obligations that will save someone from the peril of not meeting that demand. 

But what is the gospel? Isn’t it what God has done out of love and compassion for us? Out of love, the Father sends his Son; the Son, also out of love, lays down his life. And what does this plan accomplish? It fulfills the very law that we are unable to fulfill. That’s the answer to the lawyer’s question. How do you inherit eternal life? You acknowledge with repentance and faith that only Jesus knows how to perfectly love God and neighbor. And miracle of miracles, his perfection becomes your perfection and, here and now, eternal life is yours.

We want to heed the call to be a Good Samaritan. It should be the aim of every Christian to reflect the ethics of the Kingdom. But we cannot substitute our good works for those of Jesus. It is his compassion that saves us, and it is only his compassion that will save the one we are helping. May God give us grace to offer aid as well as the message of eternal life.

Jumping for Joy

Joy is rare. Happiness, related to joy but not the same, is something more readily experienced. Joy is a deeper happiness, a more exultant happiness. It is usually attached to more momentous moments, moments that possess great significance and emotional weight. Examples are readily found in sports. Imagine what it would be like for a guy who grew up playing baseball. A kid will often pretend he’s playing in the final game of the World Series. His imaginary scene is fraught: there are two outs, bases loaded, count is 3-2. Out loud he imitates the play-by-play of the announcer: “There’s the pitch, it’s a sharply hit fly ball out to left-center, Jones is running back, he’s running, he’s on the track, he leaps and  —  and  — he makes the catch! He makes the catch!! Ball game over!! World Series over!! The crowd goes wild!!!” Now, what if that kid, who has been playing that tape in his head all his life, turns into a major leaguer and actually catches the last out of the last game of the World Series? He would be out of his mind with delight, with exuberant, exultant joy!

Such was Jesus’ response upon the joyful return of the 72 (Luke 10:1-24). They had experienced a foretaste of the salvation that he was to accomplish. And that it was to “little children” and not to the “wise and understanding” that it had been revealed made it even more exhilarating for him. Jesus was thrilled! Here the fulness of the Triune godhead, in perfect harmony, was carrying out the eternal plan of redemption, a plan that attacked pride, the root sin that had provided the deadly sustenance for all subsequent sins. 

Understand, it is not education or training that is being undercut (ignorance is not virtuous). It is the mindset that allows people to think that they can stand in judgment of the gospel rather than the gospel judging them. The 72 had embraced with faith, evidenced by their going out a lambs amidst wolves, the call of Jesus. Like little children they trusted their heavenly Father to protect them and provide for them and they experienced first hand God Almighty’s mercy and grace. Jesus’ response was totally appropriate.

To be rescued from the eternal consequences of sin is no less momentous than a man being plucked from a boat adrift in the ocean with no shore or ship in sight. It's not difficult to imagine what the reaction would be when the one who was lost is finally hauled up on deck. 

In those moments when God impresses you afresh with the reality of your salvation, let at least a hearty “Hallelujah” emanate from your grateful heart.

No Conditions

The interactions recorded in Luke 9:57-62 seem uncharacteristic of Jesus — at least as we tend to think of him. He calls a man to follow him. The response is positive, but the man says he must first bury his father. Jesus protests, “Let the dead bury the dead. You go and preach the kingdom of God.” Another declares his intention to go with Jesus but requests that he first say goodbye to his family. Again, Jesus remonstrates, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” These are tough, exacting demands. How are we to interpret them?

I think the key is to place side-by-side the call of Jesus and the conditional nature of the men’s response. Jesus says, “Follow me,” and each man says, “I will, but . . .” The issue is not so much the nature of their particular conditions but that they offer a condition at all. Jesus calls — the only appropriate response is to say, “Yes.” 

Easier said than done, right? Jesus’ farming metaphor is helpful in describing the challenge. It’s obvious that to plow a straight furrow a farmer has to be looking forward at the landmark that is guiding him. Looking backwards invites all sorts of problems, not the least of which is a field that is far from being capable of bearing the kind of yield that it was intended to bear. We can understand why Jesus would say such a one is not fit for the kingdom. God saves people for a purpose. They are to bring glory to him by showing off his redemptive handiwork. Too often, however, we are looking back as though where we have been is more desirable than where he is taking us. But if we evaluate our own walk of discipleship, I think we would find that our most fruitful and satisfying times have been when we kept our eyes focused ahead rather than looking longingly for what was behind. 

Remember, Jesus heeded the call of his Father “for the joy set before him.” He knew that what lay ahead was better than anything he could possess by taking his hand from the plow. It is the same for us. We are to keep our eyes fixed on Christ, the author and finisher of our faith, and we will receive the commensurate reward: “Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.” 2 Timothy 4:8

The Son of Man

Jesus’ most used self-designation is “Son of Man.” The antecedent for this title comes from chapter 7 of Daniel, in which the prophet records a dream. The scene is the courtroom of heaven, in which sits the “Ancient of Days.” Before him “the books were opened” resulting in four beasts, who represent earthly kingdoms, being judged and undone. The fourth — the most terrifying — is killed and “its body destroyed and given over to be burned with fire.” Into the vision comes “one like a son of man,” entering with “the clouds of heaven.” This figure, depicted as possessing divinity and humanity, receives from the Ancient of Days “dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him.” In fact, Daniel understands that, “his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed.” It is an extraordinary portrait.

Jesus’ use of the title in Luke 9, however, directs us to the path he must tread to enter into his position of everlasting dominion. There he warns that, ‘‘The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.’’ The writer of Hebrews appropriates language from Psalm 8 to explain the significance: “‘What is man, that you are mindful of him, or the son of man, that you care for him? You made him for a little while lower than the angels; you have crowned him with glory and honor, putting everything in subjection under his feet’ . . . we see him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone” (Hebrews 2:6-9). 

Why must the Son of Man tread such a path? Daniel’s vision depicts “a thousand thousands” serving the Ancient of Days, and “ten thousand times ten thousand” standing before him. For one to be numbered among that multitude he or she must first posses a righteousness sufficient to stand before such holiness. This Jesus accomplished for all who identify with him. His obedience to the will of the Father caused him to receive “the name that is above every name,” the name at which “every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth” (Philippians 2:9-10).

The Son of Man came into his authority by yielding himself to corrupt earthly authorities. They will be judged accordingly and receive their due punishment. But those who know him, who look and long for his glorious coming, of them he will not be ashamed to “call them brothers” (Hebrews 2:11). 

A New Beginning?

A lot of expectations attend the passing of one calendar year to the next. Yet, in truth, there’s no inherent reason for having such expectations. It’s just one set of 24 hours following another. Nevertheless, pretty much everyone envisions the coming year as offering hope that things will be better than the last: new skills acquired, adventures undertaken, persistent problems overcome, even world peace realized! 

The desire for better awakened by the coming of a new year, comes with the territory of being human. Since the Fall, we’ve been operating at less than capacity, and the world in which we live exhibits its “bondage to decay” in multitudinous ways. As a result, we are often yearning for things to be as they ought to be (whether we can put words to that yearning or not), and with the new year comes fresh hope.

Of all people, Christians have reason to believe that the coming year will be better than the last. We know that a good, wise, and omnipotent God is in control of history, and he is guiding it to the moment when he makes “all things new.” We also know that he is at work conforming his children to be like his Son, fitting us for the glorious existence he has purchased for us. That means that whatever transpires is designed by him to accomplish that extraordinary end. 

But we have a part to play in how this year accomplishes his design. We don’t just sit back and let the days roll by. The relationship we have with our Savior is meant to be active. As he works in us we can expect that we will be called to more and more yield our entire selves to him. Jesus teaches that if we try to preserve our life, we will lose it; but if we lose it, we will keep it. As C.S. Lewis urges, Jesus says, “Give me All. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want You . . . No half-measures are any good . . . Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked — the whole outfit.” It is natural, indeed, too natural, for us to try to accommodate Christ to the life we envision. But our life’s satisfaction and joy, comes with embracing the vision he has for us. May 2018 be a year in which he more and more lives in and through us.

Eternal Bread for Eternal Life

It's hard to imagine what it was like for the apostles to experience the feeding of the 5000 (Luke 9:10-17). Their incredulity was already provoked by Jesus telling them that they should be the ones to feed the multitude. "With what? A boy's lunch? Just send them away. Problem solved." Jesus was aware that more was at stake than empty bellies. In John's account we're told that Jesus knew what he was going to do and actually spoke to the problem first: "Lifting up his eyes . . . and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, 'Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?'" (John. 6:5) There was a vital lesson that he wanted to teach, the consequences of which would reach into eternity. But as the apostles served the crowd, would they not have been awe struck at the continual filling of the baskets? Where was it coming from? The all-sufficient supply would speak to the greater reality.

Jesus was the Word made flesh. His mission was to bring life, eternal life, to all who would receive him. Such life does not come as does natural life, through the consumption of ordinary food. Eternal life requires eternal food. And this is just what Jesus offers: "I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh" (John 6:51). This life-giving sacrifice is what we celebrate each week as we take the bread and wine together. Jesus, the Word made flesh, given so that we might never hunger or thirst again.

The breaking of the bread for the 5000 was a prefiguring of the Passover meal that Jesus would share with his apostles just prior to his passion, which, in turn, is a prefiguring of the great banquet to be shared by all who have placed their trust in him. It is at that divine table that we will experience what it means to never hunger or thirst. All of our human longings will be consummated, all of our needs will be satisfied, as we partake of the richness of that meal.

Surely, the apostles could not have envisioned where the miracle was pointing as they gathered the leftovers. But their obedience to the word of Jesus was an integral part of his purpose being realized. We have the benefit of the complete picture. We know where all is headed and we know how one gains a place at the table. May we be faithful to heed his call and dutifully distribute the Bread of Life.