discipleship – Page 2

The Parable of the Salt Shaker, #28

Matthew 5:13, Amplified

“You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste (its strength, its quality), how can its saltness be restored? It is not good for anything any longer but to be thrown out and trodden underfoot by men.”

You are different. When Jesus moved in he fundamentally changed you, and you’re a “new creation” (2 Cor. 5:17). The word used there (or at least I’m told) is where we get the English word for “species.” Something quite real has happened (probably the most profound in history) and recasted you into a new type of being.

Jesus chooses his words carefully; I believe he wants us to understand.

He tells us that we’re now “salt” which, when you think about it, carries us right into something that’s completely different than anyone else. “Sodium chloride,” is a white substance that gives food a different taste. But there is more: it preserves, melts and heals.

It should fascinate us that this verse comes right after the Beatitudes, (Matthew 5:2-12). These verses are the critical principles of God’s kingdom found there—they must be understood with this in mind. This “salt” idea declares how very different his reign exactly is. As salt we’ve become fundamental to Jesus’ work on planet Earth, he has chosen us to change the world around us.

Everyone who really listened to Jesus as he declared his Beatitudes, would’ve known that these ideas were radically different from what the world sees as success. The “salt” verse is the immediate idea of actively putting these ideas into place. As we consider these, we realize that the world as we know it is now radically different because of us, because of him.

Salt that is not salt is a bit of a surprise.

Thinking about it we determine that “unsalty salt” is essentially sand. Now it might look like the real stuff, and it might be sold as such—but it isn’t salt. It’s a counterfeit, something that’s not the real deal.

Imagine you’re a Jewish person sitting at a wonderful meal of lamb chops. You reach for the salt shaker and expect it to flavor those delectable pieces of meat. But instead of shaking out salt (what you want), you get sand! What a let-down. You feel betrayed, and maybe it causes your whole world to collapse (and maybe not). Anyway, you won’t be tricked again, so the whole batch is used to fill pot-holes in front of your house.

The salt is sand.

The Holy Spirit who lives inside of you is what makes you very distinct. You’re altered on a spiritual/molecular level to be something you weren’t before. The implications are obvious to everyone who “tastes” you. The verse immediately following pounds this truth even deeper still—it’s all about “light” shining into deep darkness, (see “Parable of the Light, #11). Both deal with distinctiveness—both would’ve been really obvious to everyone.

I like the Message Bible on this verse (take it or leave it):

“Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You’ve lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.” (5:13).

Let’s be salty.

The Story of the Wicked Tenants, #27

Matthew 21:33-41

“Listen to another parable: There was a landowner, who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a winepress in it, and built a watchtower. He leased it to tenant farmers and went away. ³⁴When the time came to harvest fruit, he sent his servants to the farmers to collect his fruit. ³⁵The farmers took his servants, beat one, killed another, and stoned a third. ³⁶Again, he sent other servants, more than the first group, and they did the same to them. ³⁷Finally, he sent his son to them. ‘They will respect my son,’ he said.

³⁸“But when the tenant farmers saw the son, they said to each other, ‘This is the heir. Come, let’s kill him and take his inheritance.’ ³⁹So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. ⁴⁰Therefore, when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those farmers?”

⁴¹“He will completely destroy those terrible men,” they told him, “and lease his vineyard to other farmers who will give him his fruit at the harvest.”

Great care had gone into this venture. The owner determined that money could be made if it was done right. He made a proper vineyard, complete with everything that might make it a success, yes, he made a risk, but it seemed to be a good investment. He had hired workers—laborers and foremen to tend and harvest the grapes.

There is envy here.

The harvest was exceptionally good it seems. The men he hired were amazed when the shekels started to pour in. Perhaps they determined that if they seized the vineyard, and make it theirs, they could possess the profits for their own. They made the decision to hijack the entire operation.

The owner sent stewards to collect the money that was earned. It seems that the workers determined not only to own the field, but deny the yearly profits, When the stewards showed up to collect, the workers attacked them. The tenants violently reacted. They severely beat one, and murdered the other. The workers were committed now, and we see how serious their rebellion was.

The owner kept sending men to collect, and it seems like these tenants kept up their resistance. The owner was baffled, and he came to a decision to send his own son. He felt that this would show his seriousness over this sort of resistance. But it didn’t work. The tenants reasoned that if they murdered the son they could finally take absolute control.

The parable was clear. Judaism had been hijacked by the leaders of the people.

They were resisting God’s work and declared the entire religious system as their own. They committed themselves to taking control of all that the owner had done. The story was obvious to all who heard. The Jews were actually taking ownership of the field—to the point they would murder Jesus.

The end result was total judgement by God. He would destroy these men who were resisting him. He would transfer the entire kingdom to men who understood the true purpose of the vineyard. Judgement was coming; and it would be both fair and just. God had been more than patient.

God requires that we transfer the glory over to him. We’re the “new” workers, and the Church is now the vineyard we toil in. The world has become our field (but not ours—God’s). We dare not get confused, we must watch our own hearts. Any blessing or glory should go to God. We must work knowing deep down that all our efforts, and the harvest, belong to him.

We dare not forget this. It is critical.

Art by Eugène Burnand

The Parable of the Two Sons, #26

Matthew 21:28-32

²⁸“What do you think? A man had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘My son, go work in the vineyard today.’

²⁹“He answered, ‘I don’t want to,’ but later he changed his mind and went. ³⁰Then the man went to the other and said the same thing. ‘I will, sir,’ he answered, but he didn’t go. ³¹Which of the two did his father’s will?”

They said, “The first.”

Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you. ³²For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you didn’t believe him. Tax collectors and prostitutes did believe him; but you, when you saw it, didn’t even change your minds then and believe him.

It isn’t what you say, it’s what you do.

The parable kicks-off the last week of Jesus’ ministry. Consider the following, Jesus has just entered into Jerusalem, and on a single day:

He has just rode into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey.
He has received the praise of the crowd that he’s the Messiah
He has cleansed the temple
He has healed many sick in the temple courts
He’s had a showdown with the leadership of Israel
He rebuked a fig-tree for not having figs to eat
He had another encounter with the leaders of Jerusalem over his authority,
He teaches two parables (this one, and “the Parable of the Wicked Tenants,” vv. 33-46.)
He has another go-around with the Jewish leadership

And you thought you had a busy day! Jesus realizes that time is running short for him and on his earthly ministry. This parable, and the one that follows is a clear indictment on the Jewish leadership—the scribes, Pharisees and the Sadducees.

The parable must be understood by those in his audience. The leaders listened, and so did the crowds. Everyone got to hear the truth, whether they liked it or not. We must realize that Jesus didn’t intend to antagonize his audience purposefully. He only spoke these two parables to clarify what was true in the kingdom of God. Two sons, two reactions. The story divides the people right down the middle—you either accepted his word, or you ignored it.

It doesn’t matter what you said, it does matter what you did.

Tax-collectors and prostitutes (!) discover that the door to the kingdom opens up for them, but slams shut when the religious people want in. Jesus’ story declares that the Pharisees must go to the back of the line, and wait for others to enter in first. (Now that’s a mind blower.)

Let’s not get it mixed up. Salvation is 100% pure grace, and it has zero per cent human effort. He saves us, not because we’re such wonderful people (at least on Sundays, anyway!), but because of his gracious love. “It is by grace that we’re saved,” (Eph 2:8-9).

We’re the ones who won’t go to work when asked, but afterwards we decide to go. When we listen to Jesus—either from a Pharisee or a sinner viewpoint, will determine our real position in the kingdom.

What we say matters little, but what we do matters a great deal more.

“They talk of repenting, but they do not repent. They speak of believing, but they never believe. They think of submitting to God, but they have not submitted themselves to him yet. They say it is time they broke up the fallow ground, and sought the Lord, but they do not seek him. It all ends in a mere promise.”

C.H. Spurgeon

Art by Eugène Burnand

The Parable of the Desperate Widow, #25

Luke 18:1-8

“Now he told them a parable on the need for them to pray always and not give up. ²“There was a judge in a certain town who didn’t fear God or respect people. ³And a widow in that town kept coming to him, saying, ‘Give me justice against my adversary.’”

⁴“For a while he was unwilling, but later he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or respect people, ⁵yet because this widow keeps pestering me, I will give her justice, so that she doesn’t wear me out by her persistent coming.’”

⁶“Then the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. ⁷Will not God grant justice to his elect who cry out to him day and night? Will he delay helping them?”

^8 “I tell you that he will swiftly grant them justice. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

This parable deals with heavy-duty prayer—not the weak watered-down stuff. But rather something that’s bold and confident. Jesus teaches us to intensify our prayers. There are parallels here with the woman from Canaan. We see Jesus seemingly ignore a seeker (Matthew 15:21-28, Message). I guess that bothers me somewhat. But he wants her faith to grow.

Jesus uses the word “unjust” to accentuate the story to his listeners. It more or less creates a tension where true faith can be seen up close. Back in the Old Testament we read of Jacob refusing to let go of the angel (Gen.32:22-25). We see Rachel who demanded children, “or else I die,” (Genesis 30:8). Both prevailed even when confronted with difficult situations.

“Don’t give up” in verse 1 explains this passage. Discouragement is a frontal assault on a believer’s faith. Satan uses different tactics, but attacking ones faith is his specialty. Whenever Satan sees faith, he attacks. He absolutely hates your relationship with the Father. He will turn you against him if he can. We are told that our faith must become a shield when he tries to assault us, (Ephesians 6:16).

It seems that to me that some believers refuse to wear their armor. They don’t realize how vulnerable they really are.

This parable is clear. Often God seems to be distant and unconcerned, but that isn’t true, and yet Satan insists that it is. As believers we’re told to press the father about our need. Repeatedly, we’re told that God is very much aware of us, he only wants to build our faith—to make it strong. He uses Satan’s assault on us to magnify the fathers glory.

The widow is a case in point. She demands that the judge listen to her case, and finally he relents. Her insistence is finally rewarded. He realizes that this widow isn’t going away. She’s starting to give him a headache, and she is very persistent. Her faith is stronger than his reluctance.

Our faith needs to be exercised. It’s very much like working out in a gym.

Weights are used, and once you’ve mastered one level, it’s increased. It may sound like a cliche, but God won’t give you anymore than you can handle, our faith isn’t much different. Sometimes we’ll sweat and strain spiritually, but we must understand that our faith has to be strengthened. We never seem to arrive.

You must understand that our faith will be tried, but that isn’t a bad thing. If God withdraws, then we must pursue. If he doesn’t answer we must crank it up. Like the widow we need to persevere; we must not give up. This is how your faith grows. Hebrews 11 declares what faith looks like when it’s wrapped up in flesh and bone.

“For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks, it will be opened.”

Luke 11:10

Art by Eugène Burnand

The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, #24

Luke 18:9-14

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else: ¹⁰“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. ¹¹The Pharisee was standing and praying like this about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like other people—greedy, unrighteous, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ¹²I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of everything I get.’”

¹³“But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even raise his eyes to heaven but kept striking his chest and saying, ‘God, have mercy on me,^[c] a sinner!’ , ¹⁴I tell you, this one went down to his house justified rather than the other, because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

He despised others. As a Pharisee he prided himself as a holy person; he stood before God and congratulated himself. I believe that self-righteousness has many levels. You can be blatant and obvious about it, or it can be subtle and hidden. But we must understand that the father sees and knows. Notice the “all” here in Isaiah 64:6:

“We are all like one who is unclean, all our so-called righteous acts are like a menstrual rag in your sight. We all wither like a leaf; our sins carry us away like the wind.”

Hmm. A menstrual rag? You got to be kidding!

We often advance ourselves by demeaning those who struggle hard with their sin–there are those who see and somehow know that they’re superior. We don’t come out and say so; but we’ve arrived— but guess what— God (and scripture) know better than this.

But we’re not dealing here with a hidden self-righteousness. The Pharisee truly believes that he is different from the tax-collector. He stands and doesn’t kneel. He feels comfortable and confident in the holy presence of God Almighty. He’s not like the others. He is sure that he’s holy.

The tax-collector was brutally honest about himself.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him how sinful he was—he understood his own wickedness. Jesus’ story reveals God’s love for those who know that they’re twisted inside. Notice the heart of the tax-collector:

“He stood afar off” which showed his awareness of his separation from God.
“He wouldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven,” which declared his humility in the presence of God.
He kept “striking his chest,” which tells us of a deep pain over his sin against God.
He prayed, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ This describes his desperate heart.

These both came to pray, but that is all they had in common.

The Pharisee came to the temple to show off his righteousness, the tax-collector out of a terrible despair. It strikes me that the text in verse 11 says the Pharisee “began praying to himself.” It seems that his prayer never really met God—he was proud and showy, doing the things God hates (Prov. 29:23).

Things really came to ahead in verse 14. That’s the critical point of the entire story—“one went down to his house justified rather than the other.” Wow! What a statement. One professionally religious man, sure of his holiness, the other a sinful sinner, who came humble and broken. One showed off his faith—boasting with a legalistic swagger. The other desperate and desolate, completely undone.

But it was the tax-man who became righteous in the eyes of God.

Humility is the foundation of the kingdom of Jesus. In Matthew 5:3-4 makes a lot of sense—to be “poor in spirit” and to “mourn” are the bedrock of a Christian’s discipleship. To be justified (made right) was a gift. He didn’t try to earn it, and there wasn’t a probationary period. The tax-collector now became righteous; the Pharisee carried his sin.

God wants us to have a broken-heart. He rejects everything else. I suppose that the question is this: Do you mourn over your sin?

“The Lord is near the brokenhearted;
he saves those crushed in spirit.”

Psalm 34:18

Art by Eugène Burnand

The Story of the Unmerciful Servant, #23

Matthew 18:22-34

²³“For this reason, the kingdom of heaven can be compared to a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. ²⁴When he began to settle accounts, one who owed ten thousand talents was brought before him. ²⁵Since he did not have the money to pay it back, his master commanded that he, his wife, his children, and everything he had be sold to pay the debt.

²⁶“At this, the servant fell facedown before him and said, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you everything.’ ²⁷Then the master of that servant had compassion, released him, and forgave him the loan.

²⁸“That servant went out and found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii. He grabbed him, started choking him, and said, ‘Pay what you owe!’

²⁹“At this, his fellow servant fell down and began begging him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.’ ³⁰But he wasn’t willing. Instead, he went and threw him into prison until he could pay what was owed. ³¹When the other servants saw what had taken place, they were deeply distressed and went and reported to their master everything that had happened. ³²Then, after he had summoned him, his master said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. ³³Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’”

“And because he was angry, his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured until he could pay everything that was owed.”

God is generous. All that he does is grace. It’s also grace when we really meet another. He loves us, and we need to siphon that love to everyone we meet. When we come before the Lord, we don’t get the justice we deserve. He has forgiven us—the ten thousand ones.

God is generous. We owe him an outrageous kind of debt. Commentators list the modern value of 10,000 talents would be $1 billion USD. Granted this is figurative, but that doesn’t mean it’s untrue. Grace is God’s extravagant for scandalous sinners.

That is an insane amount of money. To settle our debt would far, far more than we can repay; but isn’t that the point. God’s grace on us, is a precious thing.

When he gets off his knees, we realize that he really hasn’t changed by grace. He’s teflon, and the mercy the father gave him isn’t really understood. His heart hasn’t really grasped his lesson in forgiveness. God forgave, the servant didn’t understand. His treatment of another proclaims this.

The story is all about grace and the law.

The $10,000 guy meets the $100 talent guy and we see our own inability to forgive. We shake down our brother and sister for just small things. Notice verse 28, the text tells us that he actually assualted him, “he started to choke him.” How bizarre and how disturbing. And yet, God sees, and responds.

Was the $10,000 guy really forgiven? Did he understand the spiritual transaction of what just happened? I don’t think so—and it scares me.

The other servants have seen the issue.

The key word is “distressed,” or lypeō in Greek, the word means “to throw into sorrow, to grieve or offend., to make heavy.” All that the forgiven servant did, was recognizable by others, and they reported what they saw to the master.

He’s called “wicked” in verse 32. What he did was awful, and again he’s brought in. Because of his mistreatment of the other who owed, he was now thrown into prison, owing a billion bucks. He gets what he now deserves. He gets justice instead of mercy.

“But if you don’t forgive others, your Father will not forgive your offenses.”

Matthew 6:15

I’m pretty sure that God isn’t hammering us over our unforgiveness of others. I suspect it’s our sin that does that. When we consider our sin, how can we understand others who sin against us? We have been forgiven much (very much!) how can we not forgive others for sinning against us?

“Many people ruin their health and their lives by taking the poison of bitterness, resentment and unforgiveness. Matthew 18:23-35 tells us that if we do not forgive people, we get turned over to the torturers.“

Joyce Meyer

Art by Eugène Burnand

The Parable of the Wedding Feast, #22

Luke 14:16-24, Message

^16-17Jesus followed up. “Yes. For there was once a man who threw a great dinner party and invited many. When it was time for dinner, he sent out his servant to the invited guests, saying, ‘Come on in; the food’s on the table.’

¹⁸“Then they all began to beg off, one after another making excuses. The first said, ‘I bought a piece of property and need to look it over. Send my regrets.’

¹⁹“Another said, ‘I just bought five teams of oxen, and I really need to check them out. Send my regrets.’

²⁰“And yet another said, ‘I just got married and need to get home to my wife.’

²¹“The servant went back and told the master what had happened. He was outraged and told the servant, ‘Quickly, get out into the city streets and alleys. Collect all who look like they need a square meal, all the misfits and homeless and down-and-out you can lay your hands on, and bring them here.’

^23-24“The master said, ‘Then go to the country roads. Whoever you find, drag them in. I want my house full! Let me tell you, not one of those originally invited is going to get so much as a bite at my dinner party.’”

There is danger here, and it gives this parable an edge. It seems that there are two kinds of people in this story: the well to do, and the misfits. Each plays an integral part–something that must be understood. We may not like what we see.

But the edginess that cuts in this parable is the real frustration of a man who has invited the respectable as guests to a wedding feast. But there’s nothing but good excuses. On the outward, they seem appropriate. In this story; three men justify their absence with what seems like reasonable.

But there’s more here. To refuse a wedding invite—was never done. It was the ultimate snub.

The overseer is outraged (obviously) by the conduct of these men.

He directs his servants to do something quite radical. He knows that the feast must have guests; the quantity reflects the quality. He orders that the servants scour the city, the streets and the alleys. He must have guests.

He doesn’t really care whether they’re misfits or not.

He’ll take misfits and rascals, losers and the homeless—it doesn’t matter, he wants warm bodies. He’ll take anyone at this point. He has decided that there will be guests, no matter what.

It’s grace—pure and simple.

The parable is a direct indictment of the religious situation of his day. Since the Jewish leaders have decided to reject Jesus, to spurn the invite to join in—he’ll invite the outsiders, the Gentiles. That is the first and obvious interpretation.

The second would be the “open door” given to the undeserving. We’re the ones who get to eat bbq lamb, and drink the best wine. It’s grace—pure and simple. And guess what, Jesus has room for more. There is a place at his table for you!

“Then he said to me, “Write: Blessed are those invited to the marriage feast of the Lamb!” He also said to me, “These words of God are true.'”

Rev. 19:9

The Parable of Loving Much, #20

Luke 7:40-47, Message

⁴⁰Jesus said to him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

^41-42“Two men were in debt to a banker. One owed five hundred silver pieces, the other fifty. Neither of them could pay up, and so the banker canceled both debts. Which of the two would be more grateful?”

^43-47Simon answered, “I suppose the one who was forgiven the most.”

“That’s right,” said Jesus. Then turning to the woman, but speaking to Simon, he said, “Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time I arrived she hasn’t quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive, isn’t it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is minimal.”

How much do you love Jesus? This parable looks at the heart of the believer, the person who has been incredibly forgiven of everything–past, present and future. And it’s here we see a woman whose heart is broken by her sin, and she discovers Jesus’ grace, and tremendous mercy.

Jesus has been invited to Simon’s home. He’s a Pharisee, and at this point they haven’t banded together to attack Jesus, it seems that there were still some Pharisees who were true seekers.

The text jumps right in and we see Jesus reclining at a table (the Jewish people didn’t use chairs–pillows were used instead.) At a feast like this people who weren’t officially invited could come in to stand in the back and listen in on the conversation. (How awkward.)

Suddenly a woman enters the scene.

She’s described as “a woman of the city,” which is a code word for “a sinner, or a harlot.” (Let your imagination roll that one around.) She comes with a purpose, for she brings a jar of expensive perfume with her.

The passage reveals that she’s on her knees, weeping on Jesus’ feet, and rubbing her tears with her hair, and pouring out the perfume. She’s kissing his feet. She’s obviously a broken person—someone who knows who Jesus is, and who understands who she is, and how deep sin has destroyed her.

At this point Simon is deeply offended, and probably embarrassed by what’s happening. But he also assumes that Jesus isn’t who he’s saying he is. “How dare does this man let an unclean person do this!” But Jesus understands everything. His parable is short (just two verses) and it’s directed at Simon; and it’s a no-brainer.

The interpretation is obvious: the man who owes the most will love the most.

Jesus accentuates Simon’s breach of protocol. The Lord deftly explains the entire situation; Simon is busted. He’s put on the spot and Jesus has made his point. It’s all so obvious. The essence of the story is clear. How much do you love the Master?

Have you really grasped how much of your sin that’s been forgiven, or maybe you’re a Simonite—someone who doesn’t quite accept what’s real? The Bible tells us repeatedly that no one is righteous. No one. Scripture has a very low opinion of the righteousness of men. (That should shatter your thinking.)

“But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.”

Isaiah 64:6, KJV

The Hebrew word for “filthy” is extremely graphic–it literally means “a menstruating cloth.” It was something that a woman used before there was Tampax. How very descriptive. Do we even have the slightest idea what that means?

How does that alter our discipleship? I’ll let you be the judge on this on this one.

“One great power of sin is that it blinds men so that they do not recognize its true character.”

Andrew Murray

The Vineyard Workers, #19

Matthew 20:1-16, CSB

“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. ²After agreeing with the workers on one denarius, he sent them into his vineyard for the day. ³When he went out about nine in the morning, he saw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing. ⁴He said to them, ‘You also go into my vineyard, and I’ll give you whatever is right.’ So off they went. ⁵About noon and about three, he went out again and did the same thing. ⁶Then about five he went and found others standing around and said to them, ‘Why have you been standing here all day doing nothing?’

⁷“‘Because no one hired us,’ they said to him.

“‘You also go into my vineyard,’ he told them. ⁸When evening came, the owner of the vineyard told his foreman, ‘Call the workers and give them their pay, starting with the last and ending with the first.’

⁹“When those who were hired about five came, they each received one denarius. ¹⁰So when the first ones came, they assumed they would get more, but they also received a denarius each. ¹¹When they received it, they began to complain to the landowner: ¹²‘These last men put in one hour, and you made them equal to us who bore the burden of the day’s work and the burning heat.’

¹³“He replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I’m doing you no wrong. Didn’t you agree with me on a denarius? ¹⁴Take what’s yours and go. I want to give this last man the same as I gave you. ¹⁵Don’t I have the right to do what I want with what is mine? Are you jealous because I’m generous?’

“So the last will be first, and the first last.”

The market place in a first century Jewish community was also the hiring office. Land owners who need laborers would come there early in the morning to get day laborers. If you needed a job that’s where you went. Typically, you brought the tools, and waited until you were hired for the day’s work. The standard pay was a denarius a day.

Agriculture was always an irregular business.

There were times when no workers were necessary, and then there were times (harvest) when you couldn’t have enough. Grapes were the biggest crop, and vineyards needed to be cultivated, but that took only a few; and probably more skilled men.

The weather was always an issue, harvest time and the rainy season happened pretty much at the same time. The trick was to get the harvest in as soon as possible. It was always a race against time, rains could come at any moment, and if they came too early, the entire crop would be lost. That’s why even a worker who only worked just an hour was welcomed.

The workday was divided up into four 3 hour increments: 6–9–12–3–6.

After the 6 am group was hired, the landowner made four other visits to the marketplace. Laborers were needed in the worst way—he would take anyone, even if only for an hour. Things were critical, and every worker made a difference. With each group, he told them that their wages would be appropriate. This was his agreement with them. “I’ll give you whatever is right.’”

When the day was done, a table was set up; the day laborers stood in line, the men who were hired last went first. They received a full day’s wage for just one hour’s work! The one-hour guys couldn’t believe it. This was generosity in the extreme. They were elated.

Word quickly spread down the line.

The men who worked the hardest—(they were the dirtiest and sweatiest), just knew that they were going to get even more than they ever expected. They were already figuring out in their heads what their adjusted wages were going to be. “If the landowner was forking out a full day’s wage for just one hour’s work, we’re going to get far more.”

Surprise!

It’s not going to happen. Everyone down the line gets one denarius. It doesn’t matter how hard you worked, or how long, or how many blisters you got. Everyone gets the same! That dear one didn’t seem right or fair. The Greek word used here is γογγύζω, we translate it as “grumble, muttering or angry whispering. To be extremely discontent.” They were offended. Plain and simple.

The guys who worked all day complained. It wasn’t right. They confronted their employer, “how could you do this to us?” They were angry. What the landowner did, in their minds, was wrong—how could he “reward” those who barely broke a sweat. “You made them equal to us who bore the burden of the day’s work and the burning heat.”

Verse 16 smashes our conceptions of law and grace.

The law tells us that we get what we deserve. That seems logical; everyone receives what is reasonable. We like the logic of it. But grace doesn’t work that way. Law is man’s perspective; grace is God’s. We don’t understand it, it doesn’t compute. We “get” the law, it’s an automatic; it makes sense to us—grace on the other hand is foolish. “Who in the world gives out salvation to those nasty, evil people?”

God deals with us according to who He is, not according to who we are.

The landowner isn’t unfair to anyone—true, he’s more generous to some, but he’s not wrong or unreasonable to anyone. We read this in verse 13. He has been completely appropriate. He paid what he said he would. Grace is totally foreign to us, we find it offensive. We can’t understand it—we come to God complaining about the grace he lavishes on junkies and homosexuals.

I shudder to think that I’ve accused him of being too merciful, too gracious to some others. The reality is that we deserve nothing. If God gave us what we deserve, none of us would be here, we’d all be damned to hell. But he is good to all of us. And really, in the final analysis, what does it matter if we’re the first or the last? I should be thrilled that someone else is blessed by a grace that they never deserved.

I get it mixed up sometimes, and I don’t really understand all of it.

Art by Eugène Burnand

The Parable of Going to War, #18

Luke 14:31-33

“Or what king, going to war against another king, will not first sit down and decide if he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? If not, while the other is still far off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace.”

^“In the same way, therefore, every one of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”

There’s a disparity here. That difference is the backbone of this parable, and it seems that everything connects to that. One king has to make a decision, and it’s probably not an easy one. He has 10,000 troops, and ordinarily, that’s enough. But this isn’t a normal situation that he faces, and he has to figure out his next step. The text tells us that he “sits down and decides,” which shows us he is honestly evaluating the situation.

It’s awfully hard for a king to submit. As a rule they can be a bit haughty. They hate to submit. But he determines that if he goes to war, he’ll be outnumbered two to one—those are terrible odds, and victory really isn’t going to be easy. For us reading this passage, the choice is clear; he must seek a diplomatic solution, and he must do this quickly.

Jesus is asking us to sit down and consider if we can meet his demands.

To follow Jesus (verse 33,) will require (demand) that we give up everything we own. I believe he’s speaking primarily to the crowd here; the disciples who are following have already made a decision. (See Luke 14:25-26.) They have to commit; so what will they decide?

It’s a bit scary/funny. To ignore, doubt or waver is also a decision. To say “no, I can’t, or won’t,” is also a choice that carries incredible consequences. It’s as much as a commitment as deciding to renounce all and follow. Notice that the king sat down—that means he deliberated. He has to make a decision that effected everything.

The 1st century Greek text interests me. The word for renounce is “to say goodbye to.” That’s the point here—Jesus speaks to the crowd (us?) that you cannot be a disciple unless you can say this particular phrase from the heart. If you’re going to be “numbered” as a true follower, you must come to that place where you walk away from it all.

There are really just two options.

And yet both are decisions with definite consequences—one leads to life, the other leads to death (?!) and I’m not sure exactly what that means. (You need to figure that out on your own.)

Will you—or can you, give up everything to follow the Master?

There’s a lot to this parable—I know this. I believe though that I’ve shared the true gist of it, and I really hope you understand. If I’ve stepped on your toes, I apologize. But I’m convinced that its essence has been shared here.

“We have suffered from the preaching of cheap grace. Grace is free, but it is not cheap. People will take anything that is free, but they are not interested in discipleship. They will take Christ as Savior but not as Lord.”

Vance Havner