Ours to Build

The Parable of the Talents in Matthew is the Parable of the Minas in Luke, and it’s worth noting some important differences. A talent is worth more than $1000; a mina was equivalent to about three month’s wages–still a significant sum, but not in the high-roller league. Both Matthew and Luke place this parable during the week of the crucifixion, meaning it was one of the last Jesus ever told. Luke explains why he told it: because “the people thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once.”

Luke also adds this context: the master in the story was going away to receive a kingdom. And his would-be subjects had already rejected him by sending a delegation ahead to complain, “We do not want this man to be our king.” So the servants are entrusted with a not-inconsiderable sum of money to invest in a society that’s already hostile to them.

Matthew’s use of talents may signify the incalculable value of what we’re given to invest; Luke’s mention of minas could suggest our human limits of time and resources. Both apply, but we should also consider the expectant audience listening to this now-familiar story for the first time. They thought the kingdom was going to appear.

No, he’s telling them; the kingdom must be built.

I will build my church. And my church will build the kingdom. Not on her own, not without my name or the Holy Spirit’s power or the Father’s providence.

But the kingdom is ours to build.

I will build my church. And my church will built the kingdom.

I forget that. I think of Jesus coming with his angels to judge the living and the dead and to me that’s the kingdom. It will APPEAR at the sound of a trumpet. Now, with the world in such disarray, would be a great time! But Jesus’ coming is when the kingdom will be made visible and apparent; it’s being built right now. My business, every day, is kingdom business.

That business is easy to lose track of because it has so many facets: making a living, raising a family, performing acts of charity, serving a local church–all in a culture that continually proclaims, “We do not want this man to be our king.” That’s always been the case, in churchy, straightlaced times as well as in degenerate time. The world does not want Christ as king, has never wanted Christ as king, and will never want Christ as king.

So we build his kingdom. I don’t know why he does it this way, why he doesn’t just bring it. Bring it! may be what we mean when we say, “Come, Lord Jesus.” But he’s not going to bring it, he’s going to wrap it up as a gift to present to his Father. Or, to switch metaphors, he’s coming to place a bridal crown on her head and take her hand to lead her to the wedding feast. By then the kingdom will be built, the rightful king restored, the rebellious subjects subjugated. (For don’t forget the conclusion of the story: “But those enemies of mind, who did not want me as king . . .”)

What’s my part? Where do I build? My little section of this magnificent project seems small and insignificant, but his eyes are on it, and a cloud of witnesses are cheering me on.

Bible Challenge 37: Messiah – The Kingdom of Heaven

 

What was Messiah about?  His contemporaries thought he was all about restoring the Kingdom to Israel, in political terms, and it seems they were half right.  Because as soon as he began his ministry, he kept mentioning the “kingdom”: a phenomenon right around the corner that demanded repentance.  But too much of what he said didn’t make sense.  The kingdom was here, but it was secret.  Its essence was not exaltation, but humility.  One had to go down in order to go up.  And it seemed whenever anyone had a pointed question, he answered with a story.  What sort of kingdom was this?

And what sort of king?

For a free download of this week’s challenge, including scripture passages to read, questions to think about, and activities for the family, click below:

Bible Reading Challenge Week 37: Messiah – The Kingdom of Heaven

(This is a continuation of a series of posts about the “whole story” of the Bible.  I plan to run one every week, on Tuesdays, with a printable PDF.  The printable includes a brief 2-3 paragraph introduction, Bible passages to read, a key verse, 5-7 thought/discussion questions, and 2-3 activities for the kids.  Here’s the Overview of the entire Bible series.)

Previous: Week 36: Messiah – Baptism & Temptation

Next: Week 38: Messiah – Signs & Wonders

 

Young, Rich, and Rootless

For a rich man, he puts on no airs.  In fact there is a puppy-ish eagerness about him, in the anticipatory way he rides up (on a white horse, no less), tosses his reins to a servant and strides forward with a smile that looks almost shy.  Used to having his way, but well brought up, plainly dressed but shot through with quality, he nods at the disciples with only a trace of condescension and raises a hand in blessing to the Master.

“Good teacher,” he says.  “Thank you for meeting with me.  I have a question to ask you.”

“Am I good?” the Master asks in return.  “Is not God alone good?”

“Well . . .”

“What is your question?”

“Only this.”  The winning smile reappears.  “I’ve heard you speak of the kingdom of God, whose subjects live with the Blessed One.  My heart is stirred.  So tell me please, how may I enter this kingdom?”

rich young ruler

The disciples, naturally suspicious of the rich, can’t help but feel their hearts warm to this guileless young man.  So they are relieved to hear a straight answer instead of a story.

“You know the commandments,” their teacher replies.  “Do not commit adultery, murder, theft, false witness?  Honor your father and mother?”

The young man is nodding.  ‘Yes. Yes.  All these I’ve kept all my life.”  And he’s not lying.  There he stands, his parents’ pride and joy–handsome, obedient, pious, everything a prince of Israel should be.  Commandment five: check.  Six: check.  Seven: ditto.  Eight: likewise.  Nine: absolutely.  Ten: what’s to covet?

“There’s one thing you lack,” the teacher says.  The young man leans forward.  Yes, this is exactly what he came for, to hear this one thing:

“Sell everything you have and distribute it among the poor.  This will be your deposit on the kingdom.  Then come and follow me.”

After the young man departs—and he didn’t argue, just mumbled something about thinking it over–the teacher stares after him for a long while.  What was he thinking? Mark tells us that “Jesus looked upon [the young man] and loved him,” even before answering his question.  Even before the young man turned away from him because he didn’t love enough.  All the commandments he had indeed kept from his youth.

Except the first one.

Meanwhile, the disciples had been discussing the matter among themselves, and have plenty of their own questions. That was a nice kid in spite of all his wealth.  So much more pliable than the usual entitled crowd.  Wouldn’t he have been an asset to the kingdom?  Shouldn’t he have been encouraged?  If you had asked him to follow you first, and then sell his possessions, he could have contributed at least some of his means to the enterprise, couldn’t he?

(Something else that bothers them—the teacher never tells any two people the same thing.  Sell everything, sell nothing, come follow, stay where you are, tell others about me, don’t tell anybody about me—what about consistency?)

He breaks into their arguments: “How hard it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom!”

What?  Why can’t a rich man be saved?  Isn’t wealth a sign of God’s blessing?  If the wealthy can’t get through the door, who can?

“What is impossible for man is possible for God.”

Peter catches on—or so he thinks.  “We did just what you told that man to do—we left everything and followed you?!  It wasn’t much, but–”

“Whatever you leave for the sake of the kingdom,” Jesus told him, “will be yours again many times over: house, family, possessions.  Your father is rich.”

He turns away and contemplates the road ahead of him.  “But you won’t always see it.”

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For the original post in this series, go here.

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The Advance Team

After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him, two by two, into every town and place where he himself was about to go.  And he said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few . . .”         Luke 10:1-2a

This enterprise isn’t just for a hand-picked inner circle.  Excitement is spreading through the ranks—he’s chosen a whole division to send out!  Seventy-two, to be exact (though some manuscripts give the number as seventy, like the seventy elders chosen by Moses).

Who are these ambassadors?  Young and unmarried, or older, with grown children?  They are not even specified as men—could women have been among them?  Not likely, but interesting to consider.  Their mission is more specific than that given to the twelve: they are to go to the towns where Jesus himself is headed on his way to Jerusalem, as a kind of advance team: scout the places that will receive him, cross off the places that won’t, heal the sick, and announce the coming kingdom–which they can say, with authority, is near.  Coming to your town!

They are so eager, pressing in to hear the instructions, exchanging glances with their journey-partners, clutching their travel bags (Oops!  He just said not to take a bag—where can I ditch this?).  Oh, the stories they’ll tell, the wonders they’ll do!  Don’t you love being the bearer of news, whether good or not so good?  This is that, in spades.  This is news of the epoch, the fulfillment of the ages, and we are in on it.

Suddenly his voice turns stark and sends a chill down their backs:

“Woe to you Chorazin!  Woe to you, Bethsaida!  And you, Capernaum–”

What’s he saying?  Those are towns that have seen his work—in fact Capernaum is where it all began.  Bethsaida is where he set out to walk across the water, and where, on a hillside a few hours’ walk from its walls, he fed the 5000.  Have these smug little Galilean towns grown blasé about it all, too casual perhaps, as though Jesus were their hometown boy who’s gotten a little above himself?  If you listen carefully, his claims do sound rather extravagant: “Whoever rejects you rejects me, and the one who rejects me rejects him who sent me.”  Meaning the Blessed One who is over all now and forever, amen.  That seems to put Jesus on overly familiar terms with God Himself, but then, God doesn’t seem to object.  So put that aside.  With anticipation, with eagerness, with that thrill that is equal parts fear—

Here we go!

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The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!”  And he said to them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven . . .”       Luke 10:17-18

The troops return after their short-term mission trip, all bubbly with excitement.  You could say they were successful; in fact, they’re jumpy as kids: Master, you won’t believe–  Wait’ll you hear–  And then we said–  And the demon was like–  and the people all–  And all we had to do was drop your name . . . Like, wow!satan's fall

He’s got to be smiling.  Not at the news, because it’s not news to him.  Of course the demons submitted to you.  Of course they recognized my name.  Satan and I go way back: I saw him fall from heaven, as sudden and bright as a lightning flash.  He was doomed ages ago; don’t be afraid of him or his minions.  They are like snakes and scorpions to trample underfoot (says the One who will soon be bruised on the head).

But that’s not the most important thing.  That’s not what matters most.  Don’t get a big head over ordering screaming demons around, because the only reason you can do that is because there’s a book in heaven that includes your names.  My father has claimed you; you belong to Him, and any power he gives you is for his glory, not yours.

And that is reason enough for rejoicing—it’s the best.  Throwing back his head and spreading his arms wide, he laughs.  They are startled; he laughs even louder.

“This is so like you, King over all—to bypass the learned and the self-important, the posers and the dominators, and share your power with peasants.  It’s like the prophets predicted, like my mother and old Simeon saw: sending away the rich, welcoming the poor, turning nobodies into somebodies, upsetting the apple art—it’s so like you!  You’ve hidden your salvation from kings and shown it to shepherds on a hillside; withheld your Spirit from the learned and poured it out on the great unwashed.  So it pleases you, Father, and so it pleases me.”

Turning to his disciples, who may have looked a little stunned at this outburst, he smiles again: a gentle, companionable, welcoming smile.  “Do you know, have you any idea, how the prophets—Isaiah, Jonah, Elijah himself—longed to see this day?  Open your eyes and ears: it’s here.”

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For the original post in this series, go here.

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