Let’s celebrate Palm Sunday with this clip from the movie, The Gospel of John,.
From the prophecy of Zechariah (9:9):
Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass.
Prophecy fulfilled.
There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water; Jesus saith unto her, Give me to drink… John 4:7
There’s material in the New Testament that would shock us if we stopped to think about it. John Chapter 4 is a shocker.
In this chapter, Jesus and His disciples are going to Galilee and taking a short cut through Samaria. Jews would usually detour around Samaria, to avoid any contact with the detested Samaritans.
The disciples leave Jesus alone, sitting by a well, while they go looking for provisions. By and by, along comes a woman from the nearby Samaritan town of Sychar, and Jesus asks her to draw Him some water from the well. Read the chapter for the whole conversation–which has its climax in Jesus telling this Samaritan woman that He is the prophesied Messiah, the Christ: “I that speak unto thee am he” (v. 25).
This is completely unexpected. Remember, Jesus was not advertising who He was. He kept telling people to keep quiet about it, time and time again.
Now the Samaritans were despised by the Jews. The Samaritans were the descendants of assorted heathen people forcibly resettled there by the Assyrians, and assorted Jews who came filtering back from exile and didn’t mind intermarrying with pagans. The Samaritan religion was viewed as an insulting knock-off of Judaism.
It was odd that Jesus would even speak to a Samaritan, although He did so more than once. But this woman was more than just a Samaritan. Jesus knew all about her: “For thou has had five husbands, and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband…” (v.18) She has gone through five marriages, somehow, and is now shacked up with some guy.
And not only did Jesus talk with her, and tell her something that He was keeping secret from most Jews; He went into the Samaritan town, stayed there for two days, and preached to the Samaritans–who said, “Now we believe… and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Savior of the world.” (v. 42)
These actions of His must have freaked people out. Dude, look at the company He keeps! We think of Jesus as gentle, and so He was: but He also made a habit of shattering people’s expectations of Him, as we see repeatedly throughout John’s gospel. At one point His audience seemed to think He was advocating a form of cannibalism: “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” (John 6:52)
Picture it: the silent, sunny mid-day, not a cloud in the blue sky, and Jesus and this woman all alone at the well, as if they’ve got the whole world to themselves–and He tells her everything. You can see it, if you try.
What we usually don’t see is how revolutionary, how shocking, this was. Maybe even worse than going to Matthew’s house to eat and drink with tax collectors and prostitutes (Matthew 9:10-13). But He was here as the Good Shepherd, here to reclaim what was lost.
As He continues to do today.
I sort of stumbled into this assignment, and wound up reading two books for review: Parables by John Macarthur (2015) and Notes on the Parables of Our Lord (1861) by Richard Chenevix Trench.
I’m not done with them yet, but I can hardly wait to review them. You don’t have to be a theologian to enjoy these books–which is good, because I’m not. What you have, in both of them, is good, solid common sense guided by God’s word and the Holy Spirit.
This morning I read what they had to say about the parable of the laborers in the vineyard (Matthew 20:1-15). It’s the one about the rich landowner who hires men to work in his vineyard. He keeps going back to the employment center, throughout the day, hiring more workers, until, “at the eleventh hour,” with only one hour of daylight left, he hires the last of them.
Then he does something unexpected: he pays all the laborers exactly the same amount, the ones who worked for one hour getting the same as those who worked for twelve.
Hard to understand? Well, yeah–until you read about it in either of these books, each author explaining it so clearly that I couldn’t help saying to myself, “Now why didn’t I think of that!”
Jesus Christ Our Lord wished us to understand his parables, but we also have to put a little effort into it. He wants us to think.
If you get a chance to read either of these books, go for it. You’ll be glad you did.
Let’s start the day with Fairest Lord Jesus–and marvel at the love and grace of God, who gave us such a Savior.
No one has sent in any hymn requests, these last two days, so I’ve had to muddle along by myself.
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I would be a fool if I told you that now, after two hours’ study, I fully understand the Parable of the Unjust Steward in Luke 16. But maybe it would be fair to say I misunderstand it less than I did when I read it first thing this morning.
Pondering the meaning of Christ’s words is not just something to do on a Sunday. As Psalm 1:1 puts it, we are to “meditate day and night” on God’s word. And because it’s convenient to post it here, let me offer you some of Matthew Henry’s meditations on this parable ( https://www.biblegateway.com/resources/commentaries/Matthew-Henry/Luke/Parable-Unjust-Steward ), courtesy of the Bible Gateway.
I got off on the wrong foot with this parable, thinking Jesus was still talking to the Pharisees, to whom He told the parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15. I just kept reading, and missed the significance of the opening sentence of Luke 16: “And he said also unto his disciples, There was a certain rich man, which had a steward,” etc. Jesus has turned from the Pharisees to address His disciples. But the Pharisees were still there, as v. 14 tells us: “And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, heard all these things: and they derided him.” The Pharisees heard the proverb, too, and laughed at it. They didn’t listen.
So the parable is spoken to those who are disposed to listen, and who will make an effort to understand it, as we ought to.
Can I tell you, yet, what the parable means? I must confess, not really. Not without more study, more meditation–and more discussion, too. But I think I can say that Our Lord is comparing the believers’ carelessness, when it comes to the “true riches” of the Kingdom, with the great and energetic care taken by worldly folk to pursue their worldly goals; and that “Ye cannot serve God and mammon.” The crooked steward’s master commends the prudence and ingenuity of the steward, although it was used for a dishonest end; and we ought to take equal care in seeking the Kingdom of God.
And now I’ll read these posts to my wife and see if I’ve made any sense to her.
P.S.: I remember a news story from some years ago, about a convict who spent a long, long time carefully and ingeniously fashioning a rope–out of dental floss!– which he used to escape from prison (only to be caught again pretty soon). And I remember thinking at the time, “If this guy had ever devoted that much labor and persistence to some honest work, he would have accomplished much.” I think that story has some relevance to this parable.
So we’ll start the day with There Is a Redeemer, by Keith Green: here you go, Linda.
If you’re new to this blog, or just haven’t spoken up yet, I want you to know that anybody can request a hymn–the more, the merrier.
We need to proclaim our faith. We need to encourage one another.
Sing louder!
Some listeners call this a prayer set to music.
Well, we can use every prayer we can get. You should see the news I don’t post on this blog–although it’s probably a more impressive accomplishment not to see it.
So, by popular demand, here’s Just a Closer Walk With Thee.
We watched the new X-Files last night. Patty is crazy about The X-Files. I’m not. All that conspiracy stuff gets to me.
When the show was over–complete with liberal TV wallah’s definition of “a conservative,” Heaven help us–I checked my blog… only to find still more conspiracy theorizing, this time by a reader.
It is not possible that anyone could be so dense as to spend a minute or two here and not realize it’s a Christian blog. But anti-Christians have this enormous sense of entitlement that empowers them to bad-mouth Christians’ most sacred beliefs, and no manners, either–they’re like someone who barges into your living room and pees on your couch.
So this guy comes on to tell me there was never any such person as Jesus Christ. Nope, you don’t have a Savior. Jesus, you see, never existed. He and the whole New Testament were “written in secret, by the Roman aristocracy–” what? all of them?–“as an antidote to Judaism.” It was all a conspiracy, you dig? A Roman conspiracy against the Jews!
But, Mr. Conspiracy Monger, the Romans had no need to conspire against the Jews. They had this thing called the Roman Army, and when some little nation like Judea bugged them, they sent the Roman Army over to kill them. End of problem.
There is evil at large in this world; and although its face is human, it serves spiritual wickedness in high places.
And in the end, God wins.
This image, found in many ancient Byzantine churches, is called Christ Pantokrator, which means “Christ the Ruler of All Things.”
This includes the 28 inches of snow that fell on us yesterday, and the brilliant sunshine that now spreads itself over glistening expanses of pure whiteness.
It is good for us to see Christ in majesty, and to remember that God the Father has promised to put all things under Him.
Just a little thought to start your day.
By reader request, I Am the Bread of Life.
That picture of Jesus–we always had it in our home, when I was growing up. Indeed, I saw it in a lot of homes, and Sunday school classrooms. I have no idea who painted it, or when.
Y’know, my folks weren’t theologians, they never thought of holding family Bible study. But oh, boy, we grew up knowing who our Savior was! To this day I would rejoice if My Lord were as solidly real to me now as He was when I was six years old.
Confound it, there go the eyes again. Must be the stuff the doctor put in them this morning.