The King of Love My Shepherd Is

To some people, the Psalms seem to be filled with disorganized tid-bits of spiritual insights, stuffed with archaic symbolism. Many parts of the Psalms still appeal to us, but that's mainly because we associate those parts with our own unique experiences of life. We at least think those parts mean something to us, even though most of us, admittedly, haven't taken the time to research the meaning and connection within an entire Psalm, which is what the author intentionally connected piece-by-piece for a purpose. Now, I'm not trying to belittle Christian taste or interests by implying that their subjective feelings and experiences are irrelevant. God does use these Psalms to speak to our individual experiences in life. I am merely trying to highlight the importance of appreciating all the parts together in a given Psalm, not just those parts which we can identify with immediately. It really does appear that some Christians (dare I say many      Christians?) view the Psalms with a puzzled look on their face. Many Christians do not actually study each Psalm as a piece of art, much less a well-designed narrative art. 

For example, consider the Shepherd's Psalm (Ps. 23). Because this Psalm is very popular, I am quite sure that most parts of it are relatively simple to follow point-by-point, verse-by-verse, while other parts, however slight, might remain an anomaly:

* * * * * * *

A Psalm of David.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures. 
He leads me beside still waters. 
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. 
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me;
Your rod and your staff, they comfort me. 
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; 
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.1

* * * * * * *

If I were a betting man, I would bet that in the mind of the average person, the sheep & shepherd metaphor remains very logical and reasonable up to the point where a table, a head anointed with oil, and an overflowing cup enter the picture. At that point it might appear to us as though the author dropped the sheep & shepherd analogy in order to talk about other pleasant circumstances in life. But actually, there really is a lot more going on in this Psalm than what ordinarily meets the eye -- a lot more imagery that remains consistent with the sheep & shepherd metaphor from beginning to end.

Below I have presented my own translation of Psalm 23, along with it's literary structure.2 By comparing the translation above with the one below, I don't intend to undermine the wonderful and thoughtfully poetic translation found in English bibles today. I simply hope to shed some more light on the literary themes which sometimes get lost in translation:

* * * * * * *

A Psalm of David.

A)  Yahweh tends me as a shepherd. I lack nothing.
   B)  He lays me down in meadows of fresh vegetation.
      C)  He guides me beside resting waters.
         D)  He brings my life back.
            E)  He leads me along the right paths for the sake of His name.
            E')  Even when I go through the valley of deadly darkness,
         D')  I fear no danger because You are with me.
      C')  Your spear and your staff, they comfort me.
   B')  You arrange a table before me in the sight of my predators.
A')  You anointed my head with ointment. My cup is well-filled.

Surely (this) generous loyal-love will pursue me all the days of my being;
And I shall be brought back to the house of Yahweh for all remaining days. 

* * * * * * *

Given this poetic arrangement, there are a number of interesting parallels. First of all, notice carefully that this Psalm begins and ends with Yahweh tending his sheep: "Yahweh tends me as a shepherd... And I shall be brought back to the house of Yahweh..." This standard bracketing device, formally known as an inclusio, is intentional, as indicated by the opening and closing repetition of Yahweh. It ends where it began, and it begins where it ended. Because of David's concluding remark about returning to Yahweh's house "for all remaining days," it is inferred that the Psalm begins with the Shepherd leading his sheep out His house. Therefore this entire Psalm is describing the daily journey of Yahweh the Shepherd who leads his sheep out into the world and back again into his house, where there is no provision lacking, no cup left empty. The flock of this Shepherd is tended very well.

Toward the end of this Psalm, David speaks of his head as having already been anointed with oil. "You anointed my head with oil," the Hebrew says (not "You anoint my head..."). This is interesting because it fits well with the imagery of Yahweh's tender care for his honored sheep and also David's delight in being a servant of God's house. To say that Yahweh has anointed his head with oil is a way for David to acknowledge his gratitude to Yahweh for allowing him to serve and dwell within His house. Here again, the imagery of a "house" to which this sheep may return daily is important. In ancient Israel, it was customary for the master of a house to provide scented, perfumed oil for his guests to freshen up.3 And here David appears to be identifying himself as a servant in Yahweh's house who is treated as an honored guest. As a servant, he leaves for a time to graze along with the sheepfold, but he returns daily to feast in the house of his Shepherd as an honored guest. David lacks nothing; his cup is well-filled.

There also seems to be an allusion to Yahweh's anointing of David as the shepherd-king of Israel. After all, David was the young shepherd who "led out and brought in Israel" during the days of Saul (2 Sam. 5:2). The people of Israel even reminded David of this at the time of his anointing as king, saying "the Lord said to you, 'You will shepherd My people Israel and be ruler over Israel.' So all the elders of Israel came to the king at Hebron, and King David made a covenant with them at Hebron before Yahweh, and they anointed David king over Israel." It was also David the shepherd-king who labored to build a "house" for Yahweh (2 Sam. 7:5). But at the same time, it was that same house which Yahweh built for David because of his faithful shepherding (2 Sam. 7:6-13). Here in this Psalm, David not only acknowledges his gratitude to Yahweh for anointing him as a shepherd-king, but also for teaching him how to be a good shepherd-king, treating him as a shepherd-king, and modeling for him the best example of a Shepherd-King that anyone could ever hope or ask for. Because Yahweh is the Shepherd-king par excellence, David lacks nothing; his cup is well-filled.

It is Yahweh the Shepherd-King who lays His sheep down in meadows of fresh vegetation and arranges a spread of food for them, even though all of this is done in full sight of nearby predators. I have translated the participle צָרַר as "predators" not only because the Hebrew word is rarely translated as "enemies" elsewhere in Scripture, but also because I was hoping to express it's more concrete meaning of binding and tying a thing without having to separate it from it's usual figurative imagery of one who causes distress and worry; hence, most translations say "enemies" because of it's connotation. (I was considering such alternatives as "snatchers," "sheep-nappers," and "trappers," but I trust that "predators" conveys the overall gist of the imagery.) David knows that meadows of fresh vegetation are surrounded by all kinds of predators, but because Yahweh shepherds him, he lacks nothing; his cup is well-filled.

It is also Yahweh the Shepherd-King who guides David alongside resting waters. Notice the placid scenery: resting waters, not fast-flowing, whitewater rapids. Not only does Yahweh provide ample opportunities for his sheep to receive refreshment as He guides them to and fro, but because Yahweh is alongside them, guiding them, there is also peace every step of the way. Yahweh's spear and staff provide comfort and assurance that no harm will befall His sheep. Yahweh is the "Shepherd and Guardian of souls" who brings the life of his sheep back home (1 Peter 2:25). Yahweh leads them along the right paths -- paths paved by the Righteous One -- for the sake of His name. Yahweh knows his sheep by name and his name is known by each one of his sheep (John 10:14). Because of this tender care of Yahweh, David doesn't need to fear the dangers which are lurking in the deadly darkness of valleys at night-time. Yahweh travels with him every step of the way back to His house. Yahweh is his Shepherd who is willing to lay down his life for His sheep (John 10:11). David lacks nothing; his cup is well-filled.

But in David's eyes, Yahweh is much more than a Shepherd-King who loves his sheep and provides generously for their needs. Yahweh is generous loyal love himself; and he will pursue his sheep day in and day out with such generous, loyal-love forever. If anyone enters the sheepfold by Him, they will surely be saved and will surely go in and out to find pasture (John 10:9). 

Perhaps there is no better poetic rendition of this Shepherd Psalm than Henry Baker's attempt in 1868. It truly is a majestic form of verse and rhyme which highlights much of what I've been describing above, and it provides a suitable conclusion to this post as well:

The King of Love my Shepherd is, whose goodness faileth never. 

   I nothing lack if I am His and He is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow, my ransomed soul he leadeth.

   And where the verdant pastures grow, with food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed, but yet in love He sought me. 

   And on His shoulder gently laid, and home, rejoicing, brought me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill with Thee, dear Lord, beside me. 

   Thy rod and staff my comfort still, thy cross before to guide me.

Thou spread'st a table in my sight; thine unction grace bestoweth. 

   And O what transport of delight from Thy pure chalice floweth!

And so through all the length of days Thy goodness faileth never. 

   Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise within Thy house forever.4

1.  ESV translation
2.  I considered other proposals for it's literary structure. There was only one other which provided an optical balance throughout all the verses. But I chose not to use that one because most of the thematic parallels did not line up, and it's poetic cadence is almost entirely lost because of the verse structure. The main advantage of this structure (below) is the textual balance between "Yahweh" in A and A', and the distinguishable center which stands alone by itself. See below:
A Psalm of David:
A)  Yahweh tends me as a shepherd. I lack nothing.
      B)  He lays me down in meadows of fresh vegetation.
      C)  He guides me beside resting waters.
      D)  He brings my life back.
      E)  He leads me along the right paths for the sake of His name.
               F)  Even when I go through the valley of deadly darkness, I fear no danger because  
                    You are with me.
      E')  Your spear and your staff, they comfort me.
      D')  You arrange a table before me in the sight of my trappers.
      C')  You anointed my head with ointment. My cup is well-filled.
      B')  Surely (this) generous loyal-love will pursue me all the days of my life; 
A')  And I shall return to the house of Yahweh for all remaining days (of my life). 
3.  Allen P. Ross, A Commentary on the Psalms, Volume 1 [Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications; 2011] p. 567
4.  Cantus Christi [Moscow, ID: Canon Press; 2002] p. 35

Fathers, may I have your attention?

Fathers, may I have your attention?  

Now that I have your attention, you need to know that there is a book you need to get. The book is called Father Hunger, and it's author is Douglas Wilson. Get this book in paperback, e-book, or Mp3 audiobook, but make sure you get it somehow. Then after you get it, read it multiple times. Take it with you wherever you go for the first few weeks and read a portion of it at every break until it's text is tattooed in your mind. "What's the urgency?," you might be asking. Well, if you're a father, and you have not already read this book, you wouldn't be asking that question. And so, just to tease you a bit, read and re-read an excerpt from that book which I have provided below. Afterward, get this book. The excerpt below is under the heading, "Loving the Standard":

    If you cannot get the kids to love the standard, then lower the standard. I am not talking about God's commandments (His standards), which we have no authority to lower, but rather addressing the questions that surround what might be called house rules. Lower the standard to the point where everyone in the family can pitch in together. This is not actually lowering the standards, but rather raising the parental standard, which is the real reason we don't like it. Fathers must embrace the task of communicating, in a contagious way, love for the standard. 

    Some parents might protest that this is impossible. But what does this example teach the young people in the home?  It teaches them that nobody around here has to do "impossible" things, and since the requirement to make your bed, or to comb your hair, or to stop texting so much, are all clearly impossible, then they don't have to be done. If you want your children to be obedient, then show them how. Giving up when it seems "impossible" is not showing them how it is done. Apart from a context of love and loyalty, fatherly discipline is just clobbering a kid. And since clobbering a kid is not what God said to do, the child is learning the fundamental lesson that, in this house, we don't have to do what God says to do. Instead, we learn to be sneaky enough to not get clobbered. 

    Each member of the family is supposed to understand that the whole family is a unit. All the members are on the same team. If a family has drifted into an adversarial set of roles, then the parents have to do something to stop the game or maybe change the rules. They have to do something that works. Let us suppose the whole family is flunking high school calculus. Wouldn't it be far better to all go back to sixth grade and pass that grade together? We have to remember that the standard set in the above passages from Proverbs1 is not an impossible standard. That was not written for angels in heaven. It was written for us. These things are set before us now. There will be more on loving the standard in a subsequent chapter. 

    The hardest thing to maintain in this unbalanced world is balance. We react, we pull away, we lurch, and we tumble. We do this in many ways. And, having heard the exhortation that we should teach our children to love the standard, but if they don't then we should lower the standard, what temptation will confront us? The temptation will be to think that laziness and apathy are grace, and that defensiveness when confronted is zeal for the law of God. But loving God with all your mind, soul, heart, and strength is a love with balance. 

Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. "Honor your father and mother" (this is the first commandment with a promise), "that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land." Fathers, do no provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. (Eph. 6:1-4)

    Here are some of the basics of Christian living within the family. We begin with the duty of obedience. When children are young and living at home, honor entails obedience, necessarily. When children are grown and out on their own, the duty of honor remains, but it is rendered differently (Mark 7:10-13). This is obedience rendered by children in the Lord. The word for obedience could be rendered literally as "listen under" -- or, as we might put it, "listen up." This attentiveness to what parents say is described here by Paul as a form of honor, and he goes on to describe how much of a blessing it will be to the children who are taught by their parents how to behave in this way. This commandment, to honor parents, is the first commandment with a promise. The promise from God Himself is that things will go well for you throughout your long life on the earth (Eph. 6:3). And then fathers are presented with an alternative -- one thing is prohibited and another is enjoined. Fathers are told not to exasperate their children to the point of wrath or anger, and instead are told to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Note that they are not told to provoke their children to anger with the nurture and admonition of the Lord -- one excludes the other. 

    One of the things fathers can stop doing (that provokes children) is to stop experimenting on them. In construction work, one of the good things about a concrete pour is that, no matter what, a couple hours later, you're all done. This is also one of the really bad things about it. You don't want to start out with a long foundation wall and wind up with a patio. Kids are a concrete pour. The time they will spend in your home goes by a lot faster than you initially thought it would. Fathers are tasked with the responsibility of bringing them up in the Lord, which means that fathers are tasked with the responsibility of working in harmony with the nature of the child. It is, of course, debated what that nature is actually like, and so how are parents to deal with this?

    Too many Christian parents are like that old joke about the Harvard man. "You can always tell a Harvard man, but you can't tell him much." Because we have successfully established the principle that parents have true authority in the home, many foolish parents have concluded that this means that anything they may happen to think about child rearing, or education, or nutrition, or training, or courtship standards, is therefore automatically blessed by God. But fathers are told not to provoke their children, because in this fallen world, this is a very easy thing to do. This is a very easy thing for Christian fathers to do. If it had not been an easy temptation for Ephesian fathers, Paul could have saved his advice for the occasional dad who really needed it. Paul does not make the mistake of thinking that authority makes folly impossible -- he cautions against authoritative folly.

    The hallmark of whether or not a father is experimenting on his kids, as opposed to bringing them up in obedience, is how open he is to the idea of someone else actually measuring what he is doing. How open is he to true accountability?  "Not that we dare to classify or compare ourselves with some of those who are commending themselves. But when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding" (2 Cor. 10:12). Note that phrase "without understanding." How can you tell if parents have undertaken their solemn responsibilities as parents with a demeanor of humble confidence? "Let a righteous man strike me -- it is a kindness; let him rebuke me -- it is oil for my head; let my head not refuse it" (Ps. 141:5). The question can be easily answered. How open is he to outside accountability? If he wants his children to have high levels of accountability, while he himself has virtually none, then this is the way to a bad family disaster.

    The Christian faith is a road, sure enough. But it is also a way. This means that how we walk is as important as where we walk.  If someone has questions about what a man is doing, it does not answer the concern to point at the road. It does not answer to bring out various books and websites that argue for this particular kind of asphalt. That's as may be, but there is something else going on. How does a father conjugate the verb firm? Does he say, I am firm, you are stubborn, he is pig-headed? If he does this easily, then he has wandered from the way, whatever road he is on.2

1. A few pages earlier, he referenced Proverbs 1:8-9, 3:1-4, 21-22, and 6:20-22.
2.  Douglas Wilson, Father Hunger: Why God Calls Men To Love And Lead Their Families [Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson 2012] pp. 168-172

I Shall Not Want

I want a lot of things in life. I want my extended family to get along better. I want my health and the health of friends & family to be better. I want to see people in my neighborhood be more considerate of each other's needs. I want to see more Christians love and serve each other. I want to see evil people and the wickedness they inflict upon society receive the righteous justice they deserve. I want to see peace in those places where there is nothing but warfare. I want to see more people help the poor, the widows, and the fatherless, not simply with handouts, but with a hand up, to lift them up and care for them. I even want all of these things to be righteous desires. I certainly hope they are all righteous desires. But when all is said and done, whether all of my wants are righteous, I know I want a lot of things.

It doesn't surprise me that one of the most popular themes plastered throughout Christian bookstores and gift shops across America is this theme of "I shall not want." And we all know the Scripture passage that this theme comes from. It comes from Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me besides the still waters. He restoreth my soul. ...Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.

This theme is sometimes mistakenly understood in two ways: In one sense it's viewed as though our trust in the Lord should be so great that our desire for "things" should be minimal. Instead, we think the Psalmist is telling God something to the affect of, "I will not want (anything) because You are my Shepherd who provides all things." In another sense, it's as if the Psalmist is responding to one of God's commands, "I shall not covet" or "I shall not steal," only this time it's "I shall not want."  In this sense, we think the Psalmist is expressing some kind of desire to be obedient to the Lord's will by not  thinking wishfully.  If we sometimes think this is the point of the Psalmist, it may be because we often don't realize that the word for "want" can be used in a variety of senses, only one of which means to desire or wish some thing. But that really isn't what the Psalmist is describing in Psalm 23. The Psalmist is not communicating to God that he will not be desiring or wishing anything inappropriately in the future. Instead, the Psalmist is declaring that he lacks nothing. "The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not be lacking," is the idea. In fact, the original Hebrew could even be translated as: "Yahweh shepherds me. I lack nothing."

Instead of viewing this opening verse as an expression of how pious we are or may just want to be, as though God must be comforted in knowing that we just want to let go of every desire and let God take the steering wheel of our hearts, this opening statement teaches something very different.  Just from my own brief studies in this Psalm, I have learned that there are three things which this opening statement teaches:

1) It teaches us that when we feel as though we are lacking some thing, we never really are if the Lord is our Shepherd. The basis of our assurance for never lacking any thing, is that the Lord is our Shepherd. 

2) It teaches us that the Lord is not simply a shepherd. If the Lord were simply a shepherd, that doesn't necessarily mean that he chooses to shepherd me, which is the only legitimate basis I could ever have for declaring the words "I lack nothing" with confidence. The Lord is more than a shepherd. The Lord is my Shepherd. I lack nothing because the Lord is my Shepherd. He shepherds me.

3) Lot's of people quote this Psalm in times of trouble because it's very familiar to them. It's quoted so frequently and so loosely that people often take for granted that this Psalm is their Psalm. Some people think they have nothing to worry about in death because they know this Psalm. They know that even if they were to "walk through the valley of the shadow of death," God is with them. The proof that God is with them is that they have this one Psalm memorized. But yet, many of these very same people don't live a life of trust which matches up with the claim of this Shepherd Psalm. They are really not content with many things that are lacking in life, but they talk as though God will be with them in the end and God is on their side. God is their pious excuse of hope when a lot of things are, in fact, lacking. In such sad cases, they may feel that way because they lack the most important thing in life: the Lord as their Shepherd. The opening statement of this Psalm teaches us that if the Lord is our Shepherd, not only can we say with confidence that we lack nothing and mean it, but we can also say that we have every thing we could ever desire and wish for, and mean it. 

Faithful Demons

Matthew 8:28-34 (ESV) reads:

And when he came to the other side, to the country of the Gadarenes, two demon-possessed men met him, coming out of the tombs, so fierce that no one could pass that way. And behold, they cried out, "What have you to do with us, O Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?" Now a herd of pigs was feeding at some distance from them. And the demons begged him, saying, "If you cast us out, send us away into the herd of pigs." And he said to them, "Go!" So they came out and went into the pigs, and behold, the whole herd rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned in the waters. The herdsmen fled, and going into the city they told everything, especially what had happened to the demon-possessed men. And behold, all the city came out to meet Jesus, and when they say him, they begged him to leave their region. 

This account is interesting in many ways, especially when compared with both accounts of Mark 5:1-20 and Luke 8:26-39.  But for the sake of simplicity and brevity, and because Luke's account is identical with Mark's account in almost every single detail, I will only be comparing Matthew's account with Mark's account throughout the rest of this post. Now let's take a look at what Mark had to say about this same incident. Mark 5:1-20 (ESV) reads:

They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes. And when Jesus had stepped out of the boat, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit. He lived among the tombs. And no one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain, for he had often been bound with shackles and chains, but he wrenched the chains apart, and he broke the shackles in pieces. No one had the strength to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always crying out and cutting himself with stones. And when he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and fell down before him. And crying out with a loud voice, he said, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” For he was saying to him, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!” And Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion, for we are many.”  And he begged him earnestly not to send them out of the country.   Now a great herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside, and they begged him, saying, “Send us to the pigs; let us enter them.” So he gave them permission. And the unclean spirits came out and entered the pigs; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned in the sea.  The herdsmen fled and told it in the city and in the country. And people came to see what it was that had happened. And they came to Jesus and saw the demon-possessed man, the one who had had the legion, sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, and they were afraid. And those who had seen it described to them what had happened to the demon-possessed man and to the pigs. And they began to beg Jesus to depart from their region. As he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed with demons begged him that he might be with him. And he did not permit him but said to him, “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him, and everyone marveled.

When both stories are compared side-by-side, a lot of details stand out. In Matthew's account, two "demon-possessed men" are mentioned, whereas in Mark's account there is clearly only one demon-possessed man. Also, in Matthew's story, just the presence of Jesus is enough to torment the demons, whereas in Mark's gospel, the man begs Jesus not to torment him because Jesus was repeatedly saying to him, “Come out of the man you unclean spirit!” 

In Matthew's account the demons beg Jesus to cast them into the herd of pigs, whereas in Mark's account two things occur: the man (possessed by demons) speaks his mind and the demons (who currently possess the man, i.e. "Legion") speak their mind. Notice carefully that in Mark's account, the man is first to do the begging. He begs Jesus not to send the demons out of the country. Perhaps that was because he understood the dangerous and volatile influence of "Legion" and he wanted to protect the people out in the country. But also notice carefully that immediately after the man speaks his mind, Legion speaks to Jesus, begging him to send them into the herd of pigs.  This is a startling difference between Mark and Matthew, and it's an important factor for understanding the main point of Matthew's story.

Also, in Mark's story, there is a surprisingly large amount of dialog between Jesus and the man, including dialog before and after Jesus casts the demons out of him. But in Matthew's story, Jesus only says one word. There is no further dialog from Jesus in Matthew's account. In Matthew's account, not only is the presence of Jesus enough to torment demons, but only one word is enough to cause them to flee from his presence. This uniquely short amount of dialog, I believe, is another important factor of Matthew's story, and is also crucial for understanding his main point. In fact, it is this uniquely short amount of dialog which helps distinguish between those who engage in dialog with Jesus and those who don't, which may, in fact, be the most important factor of this story.

Upon a careful examination of Matthew's story, there is, in fact, no distinction between the men speaking and the demons speaking. The confrontation and conversation with Jesus is always plural. "They" cry out to Jesus. What have you to do with "us," they say, and so forth. At first glance, our English translations even accommodate this plural dialog by giving the reader a very clear impression that there are two "men" who confront Jesus. But actually, upon further examination of the text, this may very well be an editorial faux pas.  The Greek text actually does not explicitly state that there are two "men," but rather that Jesus confronted two daimonizomenoi (δαιμονιζόμενοι), which is simply the plural form of a masculine word that can be translated in a variety of ways, including "demon-oppressed men," "men-oppressed-by-demons," or simply "demonic-oppressors." Demonic-oppressors is the translation that I prefer for this particular passage.1 

Further evidence points to Matthew's emphasis upon the demons and not the man (or men). Not only is there no distinction between those who speak as men and those who speak as demonic-oppressors, but this seems to harmonize well with Mark and Luke, who only mention the man (singular) possessed with many demons (plural). Moreover, when compared side-by-side with Mark and Luke, Matthew's story is clearly focused upon something other than the individual man. For example, in Luke's account, there are twenty six references to the individual man possessed with demons, and in Mark's account there are thirty four references to the individual man. But in Matthew's account, there are zero references to the individual man or even "men." All of this information leads me to believe that here, in this passage, Matthew's emphasis is upon Jesus' confrontation with demons, not a man (or men). This might be why the NRSV translates  Matthew 8:28-34 with the word "demoniacs" instead of "demon-possessed men." Matthew is describing an encounter between Jesus and demons.  

But there is more which can be gleaned from a side-by-side comparison of Matthew and Mark. In Mark’s account, this story is bound together in six distinctive sections, whereas in Matthew's account this story is bound together with three distinctive sections paralleling two emphatic “begging’s."

Notice the literary structure of Mark 5:1-20:

A)  Jesus goes to the other side of the lake, to the country of the Gerasenes, and finds a man is under the control of an unclean spirit. (vv. 1-2)

B)  The man is uncontrollable & moving around, his clothing & body are cut up, and he’s not in his right mind. This man & his demons come to Jesus and beg Him for permission to flee.  (vv. 3-12)

C)   Demons flee (v. 13)

C’)  Local people flee (v. 14)

B’)  The city-people come to Jesus and they find the man sitting down, calm, clothed, and in his right mind. First they beg Jesus to flee, and then the cleansed man begs Jesus for permission to travel with him.  (vv. 15-19)

A’)  The man becomes a disciple of Jesus, and proclaims throughout the Decapolis (the country of the Gerasenes) what the Lord has done to him, and how he had been shown mercy. (v. 20)

Now compare this information with the structure of Matthew 8:28-34:

A)  "Behold!"  Son of God! Why have you come to torment us before the time?

   B)  Then the demons beg him to cast them into the herd of pigs

Center:  Jesus says “Go!” and then "Behold!" The whole herd is rushing down into the lake to drown!

A’)  "Behold!" The whole city comes to Jesus

   B’)  Then the people beg him to leave their town

After Jesus descends the Mount in chapter seven of Matthew's gospel, we find a series of wondrous stories -- true stories -- about Jesus healing and restoring his creation (e.g. the leper, the centurion's servant, Peter's mother-in-law, the stormy sea), all of which portray two common themes: 1) the authority of Jesus, testified by miracles and 2) the faith of all creation, testified by obedience to his word. Here in the midst of those wondrous stories, we learn another important lesson about authority and faith. 

In Matthew's story, Jesus reaches the destination to which his Heavenly Father has called him. He reaches "the other side" of the Sea of Galilee, a Gentile city filled with herds of unclean pigs and fierce demonic-oppressors who lurk in unclean tombs. But all it takes is the presence of Jesus to get them flustered. They believe that Jesus is the "Son of God" and they also believe a time of judgment awaits them, which is why they poke and prod Jesus with questions. Matthew's story is not about the faith of a man (or men) at all. Matthew's story is about the faith of demons who believe in God and tremble. They believe Jesus has authority over them, which is why they beg him, saying "If you cast us out, send us away into the herd of pigs."  They beg Jesus for permission to flee from his presence because they have faith in his authority over them. 

But that's not all. By the end of this story, the faith of the people in this unclean Gentile city is analogous with the faith of these unclean demons (note the parallels of Matthew's literary structure: A, B, Center, A', B'). The demons don’t want Jesus to meddle with them, and the people don’t want Jesus to meddle with them. The demons don’t want to be anywhere near Jesus and neither do the people of the city. But Jesus has not come to meddle. Jesus has come to confront the demonic-oppressed faith of an unclean city. Jesus has come before the time of final judgment to show them what their final destination will be like if their faith is shaken by his mere presence. When the people beg Jesus to flee, their unclean city is sure to become the destiny of the demonic-oppressors. All who maintain that kind of faith -- a faith which rejects the Son of God -- will be cast out as unclean, and will rush headlong into destruction.

1.  This is clearly distinguishable from Matthew's use of the same word later in 9:32, which explicitly describes a "demon-oppressed man" (anthropon daimonizomenon). However, in the text before us, there is no word for "men" (anthropous) to be found anywhere. The emphasis rests entirely upon the demonic influence which is possessing, not the possessed.

William Lane on Hebrews 9:16-17

Shortly after the new year (2013) I found a copy of William L. Lane's shorter commentary, Hebrews: A Call To Commitment in a used-book store.  (His longer, world famous two-volume commentary on Hebrews can be found here and here.)  I was happily surprised to find that this world-renowned Biblical scholar offers a translation of Hebrews 9:16-17 which is extremely similar to the argument I proposed in earlier posts.  I am by no means a Hebrew scholar.  And I am very happy to have come across this book.  It's filled with all sorts of insights which I had not thought of before as I was teaching through the book of Hebrews years ago.  It makes me want to brush up and teach Hebrews again, actually!

Anyway, I was so surprised by the similarities between his commentary and my own thoughts on the subject that I couldn't resist posting on it once I had the chance.  Below is a brief selection of what he says in his shorter commentary:

The reference to Christ's death in verse 15 is followed by a long parenthesis (9:16-22) which explains why it was necessary for Christ to die.  The explanation of the death is rooted in covenant practice.  The preacher clarifies this matter in verses 16-17: 

For where there is a covenant, it is necessary for the death of the one who ratifies it to be brought forward, for a covenant is made legally secure on the basis of the sacrificial victims; it is never valid while the ratifier lives.  

These verses explain why Christ had to die in order to become the priestly mediator of the new covenant.  In the Old Testament, ratification of a covenant based on sacrifice frequently called for a procedure which clarifies the detail of verses of 16-17.  The ratifying party invoked a curse upon himself when he wrote to comply with the terms of the covenant.  In the transaction the ratifying party was represented by animals designated for sacrifice.  

...The preacher is familiar with covenant procedure, and he appeals to it to demonstrate that the ratification of the new covenant required the presentation of sacrificial blood.  He declares that if a covenant is to be made legally secure, the death of the ratifier must be "brought forward" in a representative sense.  Under the old covenant that death was "brought forward" in terms of sacrificial animals.  In the case of the new covenant, it was "brought forward" through the death of Christ.  Christ became "the cursed one," who in a representative way offered himself on behalf of those who had activated the curse sanction of the old covenant by the transgressions they had committed (see v. 15).  He took the curse upon himself.  Christ's death was the means of providing the sacrificial blood of the new covenant.1

1.  William L. Lane, Hebrews: A Call To Commitment [Vancouver, BC: Regent College Publishing, 2004] pp. 124-125

Disrespectful Jesus

Matthew 8:23-27 says:

And when [Jesus] got into the boat, his disciples followed him.  And behold, there arose a great quake in the sea, so that the boat was covered with waves; and [Jesus] was sleeping.  And they went and woke him, saying, "Lord! Save us! We're perishing!"  And [Jesus] said to them, "Why are you being cowards? Littlefaiths!"  Then [Jesus] got up and rebuked the winds and the Sea, and there was a great calm.  And the men marveled, saying, "What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea are obeying him?

"Jesus said what?  He called his disciples what?  I don't believe Jesus would say something like that.  Some thing isn't right here.  This must not be translated properly."  

This is the kind of reaction I can imagine Christians having, especially if they're sensitive to the idea that saying anything disrespectful could ever possibly be "godly."  Well, even though some people think that kind of sensitivity has it's place in the kingdom of God, it certainly could not have it's place under all circumstances, otherwise the Lord himself wouldn't have said it. 

The fact of the matter is that most translations smooth over what Jesus actually said, and they also smooth over the emphasis of his disciples too.  His disciples did freak out, and Jesus really did interpret their behavior as cowardly.  He really did engage them directly with name-calling, and he wasn't insulting their intelligence or reacting in a sinfully censorious manner either.  What he said is a lesson for us to live godly in Christ Jesus.  Simply put, it's a lesson for disciples. But simply saying so still doesn't explain why Jesus treated them this way.  Many legitimate questions could be asked.  A few questions come to mind: 

What did they do to deserve the description of "cowards" and "littlefaiths"?   Wouldn't it have been foolish to let their boat sink and to let Jesus sleep through it all?  And what is there not to admire about fleeing to Jesus in times of trouble?

It seems to me that there are multiple methods which could be employed to misinterpret this story. We could blame Jesus. We shouldn't, but we could. Maybe he was cranky because he didn't get enough sleep or his blood-sugar was too low, and this is merely an example that being cranky isn't necessarily a bad attitude. Or maybe, Jesus is acting this way because his disciples didn't pray to their Heavenly Father first. Maybe, Jesus is criticizing them for waiting too long to wake them up. Maybe. Well, on second thought. No, none of those options are viable. 

What Jesus is really criticizing is their despairing fear and fits of anxiety. In fact, if you look closely at the text, it's as though Matthew is recording the three words that Jesus remembers hearing in the midst of his deep sleep. It was as though everything Jesus heard was fuzzy sounding, and the main gist of what he heard were three shouts of sheer panic: "Lord! Save us! We're perishing!" At least the disciples got it right by addressing him as "Lord," and not "teacher" like the scribe did in the last narrative (8:19). Admittedly, it seems natural for human beings to panic in circumstances like these. One minute they're hanging out on deck looking up at the clear blue sky. The next minute a great earthquake nearby makes waves so high that the boat is covered with water. I would be shaken a bit too (pardon the pun).

But didn't Jesus just finish teaching his disciples about how to behave in circumstances like these?  Perhaps many of these disciples weren't there on the Mount with Jesus, but at least Matthew's readers should recognize a parallel between this catastrophe and something mentioned in Jesus' Sermon on the Mount only one chapter earlier. It was there that Jesus taught his disciples about fits of anxiety. In Matthew 6:25-33, Jesus said:

...do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they?  And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?  And why are you anxious about clothing?  Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.  But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you all, you littlefaiths?  Therefore do no be anxious... But seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

This direct address as "littlefaiths" is not a curse word, but it is name calling. And I bet it wasn't until Jesus called his disciples "littlefaiths" again that they made the connection and recognized that God had brought about the sudden earthquake to test their faith in Him. But Jesus was ready. Jesus was apparently always ready for each test that our Heavenly Father gave him. Surely Jesus was fully God and fully man, but this doesn't diminish the reality of the testing he still needed to endure throughout his human life. And this is a healthy reminder for us today too. 

When we are faced with real tests in life, what will our responses be?  Will we cower under pressure?  Will we panic? It seems that the most common reaction to severe testing is that most of our thoughts and emotions are consumed with tension, angst, worrying, and general uneasiness because of anxiety. Will any of those be your reactions too? Should any of those be your reaction? Jesus shows us that we should not be anxious. And the reason why we ought not to be anxious is because all fits of anxiety are an expression of little faith. Jesus knows that our tendency is to strive for as little faith as possible. We want to walk the comfortable road, coddled all the way to eternal life.  But Jesus wants big faith in all of his disciples because he knows that big faith is always willing to conquer through the uncomfortable roads of real life.  He knows there are a lot of littlefaiths out there in the world. But he wants bigfaiths. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to find out in heaven that one of Jesus' greatest joys in life is namecalling, especially with names like "Bigfaith." Jesus wants disciples who seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, which is another way of describing those whom he loves to call "Bigfaiths." 

There is also one more thing we learn from this story. We learn that Jesus accepts even a little faith. He does not admire littlefaiths, but he loves and cares for littlefaiths. Notice that as his disciples were trying to wake him up by screaming at him, Jesus didn't pull the blankets back over his face and tell his disciples to go away. And he didn't wake up and walk on water to get away from them either, as though the sinking ship was their unique problem for being littlefaiths. Instead, Jesus gets up and calms the wind and the Sea for the sake of his disciples. First he rebukes them for their cowardice, but then he helps calm them.

So when you are faced with God's providential tests, and you realize you're caving in to the temptation of anxiety and fits of despair, keep in mind that Jesus is able and willing to calm everything down for you. And he's willing to calm things down for you because he's the one you're coming to with even a little faith. He could ignore you. He is sovereign. But if you are his, you know his holy character which cares for you through every storm of life. And because you know He cares for you, you should cast all your cares upon him. But keep in mind that we are not really casting all our cares upon him if we are not willing to receive his rebuke about our faith being cowardly and little. And we are not really seeking first the kingdom of God and his righteousness if our primary focus is upon the Lord's help to calm the storm's of life. Instead we ought to be asking him for help to make our faith bigger. When we feel like a particular burden is going to become too big to carry, we should be willing to ask first that God would give us stronger backs.  We ought to be seeking first the kind of life which deserves better name calling from God. We should be asking God to help us conquer through the uncomfortable paths of life according to His word and Spirit to become worthy of the name "Bigfaiths."  If we are really interested in seeking first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, our feelings of anxiety must be replaced with the wisdom of our Lord's rebuke.

Two disciples, one boat, no "where"

As noted in a previous post, Matthew 8:18-22 is the first narrative interlude sandwiched between the surrounding ten miracles of chapters 8 & 9.  In this brief interlude we find Jesus getting ready to get on a boat and travel to the other side of the Sea of Galilee to go preach the gospel of the Kingdom of God.  But before Jesus gets on the boat, he is confronted by two of his disciples.

A scribe came up and said to him, "Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go." And Jesus said to him, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." Another of the disciples said to him, "Lord, let me first go bury my father." And Jesus said to him, "Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their own dead."

This is a great example of quick, clear-cut, straight forward narration.  The first disciple speaks his mind and Jesus responds with one sentence.  A second disciple speaks his mind and Jesus responds again with only one sentence.  Then, in the very next verse, Jesus gets on the boat and sails to the other side of the Sea.  This interlude is not part of the three miracles which occurred immediately beforehand, nor is it an essential part of the following three miracles.  It just connects the two groups of miracles, and it leaves the reader with a lingering aftertaste of how serious the calling of discipleship was in the Lord's eyes.

In the immediate story preceding this narrative interlude, we find group of three miracles in which Jesus is approached by a believing leper and a believing Gentile Centurion;  and they both address Jesus directly as "Lord," which, for all practical purposes, illustrates their actual faith that Jesus was the Lord.  The leper says, "Lord, if you will it to be so, you can make me clean."  The Centurion even addresses Jesus twice as "Lord."  But here in this narrative interlude, Matthew goes out of his way to describe the first disciple as one who doesn't care to address Jesus as "Lord."  In fact, Matthew doesn't even describe him as a disciple.  Instead Matthew describes him according to his profession, a "scribe."  And instead of illustrating his faith in Jesus as Lord, he addresses Jesus as his "Teacher."  So far, the picture which Matthew has painted doesn't look too pretty. But it actually gets uglier.  If the scribe would have addressed Jesus as "Lord," we probably wouldn't have noticed the fact that he was a scribe so much.  But because this scribe addresses Jesus as "Teacher," the fact that he's a scribe stands out even more.  It's as though this oh-so-humble scribe is placing himself in the position of an oh-so-humble student.  Jesus is not so much the Lord in this man's eyes as he is a powerful, wonder-working teacher that this student can learn from and follow. 

Before Jesus reaches the boat, this scribe proclaims abruptly, "Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go!"  And apparently this didn't flatter Jesus very much.  One can almost sense what Jesus was thinking in response.  But Matthew doesn't record everything that he was thinking.  Instead, all we are given is a glimpse of what Jesus was thinking and what mattered most to him.  In Jesus' response we find a word that he intentionally picked up on and emphasized in his response to this self-proclaimed "student" of his.  The scribe said he was willing to follow Jesus "wherever."  That single word is actually comprised of two words in the original Greek, ὅπου  ἐὰν  ("where" and "ever") and Jesus responds by saying that he has no "where" (οὐκ  που) to rest his head.  If this self-proclaimed student is really willing to  follow his Teacher every "where," he needs to realize first that there actually is no "where" to rest if Jesus has no "where" to rest either.  And it's only reasonable that a teacher would let his student know this in advance.  After all, that's what a Rabbi expected from his most devoted student.  The student followed him.  After a Rabbi left his home in the morning, the devoted student was nearby to serve him;  and when the Rabbi rested, the student had some time to go home and rest as well.  But not so with Rabbi Jesus.  "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few," as Jesus will be saying a few paragraphs later.  And because the laborers are few, and Jesus is on a mission to fulfill the work which his father has given him, there will be no rest until his work on earth is finished.  After Jesus proclaims the coming kingdom and accomplishes redemption, he enters into his sabbath rest.  In the mean time, there is too much work to do in the kingdom.

This is when the second disciple enters the story.  And as one might expect, the second disciple is set in contrast with the first one.  If the first disciple is portrayed as one who exaggerates and embellishes his commitment to discipleship, the second disciple is portrayed as one who isn't committed enough.  But there is at least hope for the second disciple.  The first disciple is rejected by Jesus.  But with the second disciple, Jesus responds by saying "follow me."  I am fully aware that throughout the various hard-hitting, repentance-calling, sin-exposing, emotionalistic preaching of modern Christendom, this second disciple is often portrayed as an un-believer or at best a half-hearted Christian.  Preachers mooch off this passage as though this disciple wasn't willing to place Jesus as numero uno in his life, and therefore the ending of his life must have become a sad sob-story of regret and sin-saturated shame.  Sad, sad face. 

But I don't actually think that was Matthew's point in this portion of the narrative.  As far as we know, this second disciple really did not attend his father's funeral.  For all we know, Jesus' words cut right to his heart and the second disciple followed Jesus onto the boat and to the other side of the Sea.  We don't know, and no other synoptic gospel alludes to the contrary.  If this second disciple is set in contrast with the first disciple -- the scribe who was rejected by Jesus -- then it's at least possible that this second disciple is an illustration of one who did count the cost and actually followed Jesus.  Certainly there is the lesson of priorities to be gleaned from this narrative.  The second disciple is concerned about burying his father "first."  But an equally obvious lesson to be gleaned from this story is that those who actually commit to following Jesus "wherever" he goes, even though they won't have a place to rest, are actually gaining life.  "Follow me," Jesus said, "and let those who are dead bury their own dead."  In other words, Jesus is saying: "Where I am going, there is life." 

Jesus was already called by his Heavenly Father to go the other side of the Sea.  That was the first thing mentioned in this narrative interlude, and it sets the tone for those characters in this narrative who actually hear Jesus' call to follow him.  Let's keep in mind that Jesus was not speaking literally when he said he didn't have any place to rest his head.  In fact, his response to the scribe was just as exaggerated and non-literal as the scribe's promise to him.  And for those who wish to argue otherwise in order to extract some "eternal truths" that sound good to audiences enthused by emotionalism, it is in the very next story -- only two verses later -- that we find Jesus in a deep sleep on a boat!  And so, we know from this that his response to the scribe was never intended to teach us an eternal truth about his sleeping habits.  Rather, Jesus was simply testing his willingness to commit as a disciple.  Likewise, the response of Jesus to the second disciple about skipping his dad's funeral first was never intended to be a paradigm for all circumstances in life.  In other words, we ought not to extract "eternal truths" about following Jesus which were never conveyed by the actual narrative.  Sensationalized preaching is loaded with "eternal truths" that actually are not taught in God's Word.  And this is but one of those examples.  Matthew is not teaching that Jesus needs to be first before we brush our teeth, first before we turn on the radio, and first before we squirt ketchup on our hot dog at lunchtime.  Jesus is supposed to be first in everything we do, not before everything we do.  He is ultimate in authority, which makes him ultimate in every priority.  And this principle is illustrated no differently with this second disciple.  The imagery of what Matthew wrote is very clear.  Jesus was on his way to the other side of the Sea.  He needed to get on a boat to do that.  He wasn't going to wait around another day or two for a dead man's funeral to finish.  There was work in the Kingdom that needed to be done on the other side of the Sea. 

And so, in this very real historical setting, Jesus is not rejecting the second disciple.  He's actually giving him a chance that he didn't give to the first disciple.  Jesus says "Follow me" to this second disciple, and we, like him, are supposed to place ourselves in his shoes and make a decision in our own life.   Do we cross the Sea with Jesus and preach the Kingdom along with him, or do we follow the traditions of men and go home to bury our father?  Will we go where Jesus has promised life, or will we go where Jesus has promised death?