Maundy Thursday Night: The Night of the Lord's Supper

In his book, Christ on Earth: The Gospel Narratives as History, Dr. Jakob Van Bruggen has provided an excellent biblical and historical explanation of the night in which Jesus instituted his Supper.1 His conclusion is that on the night in which the Lord instituted his Supper, the Jews removed all leavened bread from their homes and served the first evening meal of the lamb, and that was the night of Maundy Thursday. 

Because the entire argument within his book is quite extensive, and the subject so controversial, I will only quote a brief portion of his thoughts, trusting that others are already aware of the alleged "chronology contradiction" or "problem" within all four gospels. Van Bruggen writes:

  After the Wednesday of the final discourses comes the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread (Matt. 26:17). This is when the Passover lamb is sacrificed (Mark 14:2; Luke 22:7). The days of Unleavened Bread are counted from 15 to 21 Nisan (cf. Josephus, Antiquities 3.10.5 Sec. 249), the seven days during which the Passover offerings are sacrificed in the Temple (Num. 28:16-25). Sometimes, however, 14 Nisan is also included. This is a day of preparation during which people remove all leavened bread from their homes and serve the lamb at the evening meal. In that case there are eight days of Unleavened Bread (cf. Josephus, Antiquities 2.15.1 Sec. 317). The first three evangelists (i.e. Matthew, Mark, and Luke) clearly follow the latter approach when they write about the dawn of the Thursday on which the Passover must be slaughtered (Matt. 26:17; Mark 14:12; Luke 22:7). In other words, they consider this Thursday the fourteenth day of Nisan.  

  The terminology used in connection with the Passover and the feast of Unleavened Bread is complicated. The fourteenth day of Nisan is the day of preparation: all leavened bread is removed from the houses, the lambs are slaughtered, and during the evening the Passover meal is eaten. Because of this evening meal, 14 Nisan is sometimes called the Passover Feast (Lev. 23:5; Josephus, Jewish War 6.9.3 Sec. 423; Antiquities 2.14.6 Sec. 313). 

  The fifteenth of Nisan is the beginning of the Feast of Unleavened Bread. This feast lasts seven days, during which large sacrifices are brought into the temple (Lev. 23:6; Num. 28:17-25; cf. Josephus, Antiquities 3.10.5 Sec. 249; 9.13.3 Sec. 271; 11.4.8 Sec. 110). The fifteenth day of Nisan is then counted as the first day (16 Nisan is the second day, see Josephus, Antiquities 3.10.5 Sec. 250). The fifteenth of Nisan is actually the day of Israel's liberation (Josephus, Antiquities 2.15.2 Sec. 318). The Jews also refer to the feast of Unleavened Bread (15-21 Nisan) as Passover (cf. Luke 22:1; Josephus, Jewish War 2.1.3 Sec. 10; Antiquities 10.4.5 Sec. 70; 14.2.1 Sec. 21; 17.9.3 Sec. 213; 18.2.2 Sec. 29; 20.5.3 Sec. 106). 

  Because the leavened bread is removed on 14 Nisan, the day is referred to as "the Day of Unleavened Bread" (Josephus, Jewish War 5.3.1 Sec. 99). If this day (14 Nisan) is counted with the feast (15-21 Nisan), one can also speak of a "period of unleavened bread" for eight days (Josephus, Antiquities 2.15.1 Sec. 317; cf. Mark 14:12; Luke 22:1).2

1.  Jakob Van Bruggen, Christ on Earth: The Gospel Narratives as History [Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books; 1998] pp. 212-219
2.  Ibid. p. 212-213.

The Acceptance of Enmity

In Jakob Van Bruggen's insightful book, Jesus the Son of God: The Gospel as Message, he paints a picture of Jesus as one who accepted the "path of rejection" which forced itself upon him, a choice which Van Bruggen calls "the acceptance of enmity." His insights are especially relevant in light of this week being the traditional Passion Week (or "Holy Week"). 


Van Bruggen writes:

    The actual acceptance of this enmity can be seen in the peculiar way in which Jesus travels through Palestine. His journeys can be viewed as evasive movements that lead in the direction of the leaders who are waiting to kill him.  

    On the one hand he often evades his enemies. When the Pharisees begin to keep a closer eye on him because of the many people who begin to follow him, he retreats to Galilee (John 4:1-2, 43-44). Later, on several occasions in Galilee, he escapes the growing hostility (Luke 4:28-30; Matt. 12:14-16), and once he even goes across the northern border to the neighboring country for a time (Matt. 15:21-28; Mark 7:24-37); the result is that his opponents often have to travel to remote regions to search for him. When the plans to kill him assume an increasingly more definite shape, he goes to the Feast of Tabernacles, not with the crowds but more or less incognito (John 7:10-14). And during the final months he retreats once more from Judea to the mountains of Transjordan and later to mountains of Judea (John 10:40-42; 11:54).   

    On the other hand, despite all sorts of evasions he always comes back into the public eye and always moves again toward his enemies. He postpones the escalation of the confrontation, but he does not make himself inaccessible. On the contrary, in the end he enters Jerusalem amidst cheering crowds, can be found daily in the temple (which for him is as dangerous as a robbers' den), and finally surrenders himself to the servants of the Sanhedrin.

    Typical of Jesus' behavior is the way he once reacted to the threat that Herod Antipas wanted to kill him. He was in Perea, the tetrarch's territory. Jesus left a few days later, but not to escape death. His goal was Jerusalem--because that was the proper place for a prophet to be killed (Luke 13:31-35).

    This combination of withdrawal and head-on encounters with the enemy indicates that Jesus does not avoid the consequences of hostility but insists on following the path to arrest and death according to his own time frame. He also hints more than once at having his own schedule, and speaks of "his hour" or "his time" which is yet to come (John 7:30; 8:20; 12:23; 13:1; 17:1).

    ...A comparison can certainly be made between the attitude people often assume toward prophets and righteous people, and their attitude toward Jesus.  Jesus' own position, however, is different from that of the defenseless prophets and the powerless righteous. We see this in the fact that he does not eagerly await God's punishment of his enemies or revenge for what has been done to him by those who reject him. On the contrary, he declares that he has come for their salvation, and on the cross he prays for forgiveness for those who execute him (Luke 9:52-56; 23:24). Thus he accepts his suffering, not as a powerless individual who trusts that God will do right by him or her, but as the Ruler who thinks it necessary to allow himself to be bound and killed.1

1.  Jakob Van Bruggen, Jesus the Son of God: The Gospel Narratives as Message [Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books; 1999] pp. 157-158

The True Ruler of Israel

As they were going away, behold! a demon-oppressed man who was deaf-mute was brought to him. And when the demon had been cast out, the deaf-mute man spoke. And the crowds marveled, saying, "Never was anything like this seen in Israel."  But the Pharisees said, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons."  (Matt. 9:32-34)

Finally, we have arrived at miracle number ten, the final miracle in the long list which began in chapter eight. And from the looks of things, Matthew doesn't seem to dwell upon this final miracle too long, which means that at first glance, we might be tempted to think that there isn't much to be said about it. But in actuality, there is a lot which can be gleaned from this final miraculous narrative, especially when we compare it with the previous nine miracles.

Perhaps the first noteworthy aspect of this miraculous story is how Matthew first grabs our attention with another alarming "behold!"  This definitely isn't the first time Matthew has said this, and it certainly won't be the last time he says it in his gospel. But it is intentionally inserted into the narrative to get our attention. After our attention is grabbed, we expect something noteworthy, perhaps even something alarming or surprising to occur. And what we find in this brief narrative is actually the opposite. What we find is something extremely ordinary. What we find is another person being brought to Jesus for healing.

If we've been paying attention to the larger narrative of chapters eight and nine as whole unit, it shouldn't surprise us to find one more person who needs healing. What then is so noteworthy about this tenth miracle?  

Well, as I suggested in the last post (or perhaps I should say, as Matthew suggested in the last miracle story), Jesus is finally being portrayed as one who is burdened for Israel. In the last miracle story Jesus has been followed a long way back to Matthew's own house by two blind men, and after they enter the house we find, for the first time, Jesus questioning someone's faith. He asked them, "Do you believe I am able to do this?" They affirmed their belief in his ability and Jesus healed them. Then Jesus "sternly warned" them not to let anyone know that he healed them (9:30). But in their excitement -- and it's very easy to empathize with their excitement -- they go and "spread his fame through all that district" (9:31). It was "as they were going away" -- the blind men leaving to spread Jesus' fame -- that "behold! a demon-oppressed man who was deaf-mute was brought to him" (9:32). In this context, it's not terribly difficult to empathize with Jesus either.  Jesus just "sternly warned" the two blind men to keep their mouths shut about him because the burden he has already been bearing for Israel is great and heavy, and if that burden is going to increase he's going to need some rest, and even some more help from his disciples. But the two blind men go and spread his fame anyway! They're too excited by their new eyesight that they don't care about Jesus' stern warning. All they can think about is the fact that Jesus healed them. And so, the picture which Matthew is painting at the beginning of this tenth miracle seems to be a never-ending and constantly increasing burden for Jesus to bear. One more "demon-oppressed man who was deaf-mute" was just the cherry on top. 

Because this final miracle story is like the "cherry on top," I find it peculiarly odd that so few details about this miracle are actually described by Matthew. In fact, so little of the miracle is actually mentioned that it can't possibly be the faith of the deaf-mute man or his friends that are being highlighted in this story. Instead, what Matthew seems to be doing is highlighting the faith of the crowds and comparing their increasing faith in Jesus with the decreasing faith of Israel's leaders.  In case there is any doubt about this, let's look closer at the details of Matthew's story.

The explicit mention of someone being "brought to" Jesus is our first clue. This should remind us of the last and only other time this has happened elsewhere within chapters eight and nine. The last and only time this happened was when the paralyzed man was brought to Jesus by his friends, and Jesus spoke words of great comfort to him which, consequently, sparked a controversy between Jesus and the Scribes who were listening in on the conversation (Matt. 9:1-3). 

As we reflect upon that story, we might expect something similar to happen here with the deaf-mute man as well. Right at the point where we might expect Jesus to say something comforting to the deaf-mute man (like he did with the paralyzed man), we don't find Jesus saying anything. Even if we were merely expecting to learn about the faith of the demon-oppressed man or his friends, we don't find that either. All Matthew tells us is that when the man was healed, he spoke. It is only after this that we learn the main purpose of mentioning the tenth miracle at all. After the deaf-mute man spoke, we learn that "the crowds marveled" while the Pharisees ridiculed Jesus. Clearly, the contrast of faith between the crowds and Pharisees is Matthew's primary concern in this final narrative. Just as the story about the paralyzed man was not really about the faith of the man himself or his friends, but rather a commentary upon the blasphemous faith of the Scribes, that too is a similar attribute of this last miracle. Here in this last miracle, where we might expect to learn about the faith of the one healed, we find a commentary upon the blasphemous faith of the Pharisees instead. 

But notice again that the crowds are said to have "marveled." In the original Greek text, the word for marveled is thaumazo. This isn't the first time someone in Matthew's gospel has marveled (thaumazo). When Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee, his disciples "marveled (thaumazo), saying 'What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?'" (8:27). The individual disciples had marveled because they had never seen anything like that in all their lives. 

But there's another account of marveling which Matthew is more likely to be echoing when he mentions the crowds marveling. Back in the beginning of chapter eight where we find the first triad of miracles (8:1-17), we find a Gentile Centurion whose faith is so great it makes Jesus marvel (8:5-13). Notice carefully what Jesus says about the faith of that Gentile:

When Jesus heard [the faith of the Centurion], he marveled and said to those who followed him, "Truly, I tell you, with no one in Israel have I found such faith!"  (Matt. 8:10)

Sound familiar? It should. It should because in this very last miracle of chapter nine -- immediately after the deaf-mute man is healed -- we find the crowds also marveling and saying: "Never was anything like this seen in Israel."  When Jesus marveled, it was because the faith of a Gentile ruler was greater than Israel's own rulers, the Scribes and Pharisees. Here at the end of all ten miraculous stories we find the crowds marveling, the implication of which is that they seem to be siding with Jesus and not with the established rulers of Israel, the Scribes and Pharisees. Matthew makes this contrast even more explicit by mentioning what the attitude of the Pharisees has been all this while. Notice the translation of the ESV in the following verse:

But the Pharisees said, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons."

In the ESV translation we find a simple past tense, whereas in the original Greek text Matthew seems to be expressing more than just a simple past tense. In Greek, Matthew uses the imperfect verb tense (which always refers to the past), but he does so in contrast with the timing of what the Pharisees said. In other words, the crowds marveled, "saying" (present tense), "Never was anything like this seen in Israel"; whereas the Pharisees "said" (imperfect tense), "He casts out demons by the prince of demons." Matthew's use of the imperfect tense is likely expressing what the Pharisees had been saying about Jesus all along. The Pharisees had been saying, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons." 

The ESV seems to have made another translational oversight in this verse which doesn't help the reader pick up on Matthew's literary design as easily. Notice carefully what the Pharisees had been saying about Jesus all along. They had been accusing him of casting out demons by the prince (archon) of demons.  The last time this word archon (i.e. "prince") was mentioned was at the beginning of this last triad of miracles, within Matthew's house. As you may recall, Jesus was feasting within Matthew's house when he was suddenly interrupted by a Jewish "ruler." In Greek, the word translated as "ruler" is this same Greek word, archon. It was the house of the Jewish ruler (archon) that Jesus traveled to after leaving the feast in Matthew's house. It was at the house of the ruler (archon) that Jesus raised a dead daughter of Israel to life again. It was at the house of the ruler (archon) where Jesus found a faith among the "flute players" which ridiculed him. It was the house of the ruler (archon) which Jesus left as the two blind men followed him back to Matthew's house. And now, back within the confines of Matthew's house where Jesus heals a deaf-mute man, we learn that the leaders of Israel have been conjuring up accusations against Jesus all along, accusations of conspiring with the "prince" (archon) of demons. 

There is great irony concerning these false accusations of the Pharisees too. The kind of faith which the one Jewish ruler understands as he kneels before Jesus, the Pharisees don't understand at all. What the two blind men see as they follow Jesus, the Pharisees can't see. What the deaf-mute hear and proclaim and the crowds marvel about, the Pharisees reject as a matter of faith. The Pharisees won't bow the knee to Jesus or marvel at his words or works because they're spiritually dumb. Their lack of faith is something to truly marvel about. 

Matthew is showing us that in the days of Jesus' ministry, Israel is really given two choices. They could worship God by following Jesus or they could continue to trust in the established leadership of Israel. Israel is in a state of wilderness wandering, and the people are becoming increasingly aware that the established leadership of Israel is the problem, not the solution. Jesus has "compassion for them" because the people of Israel "were being harassed1 and helpless like sheep without a shepherd" (Matt. 9:36).  Therefore we shouldn't be surprised to find a choice between two types of disciples. Keep in mind that between each triad of miracles within chapters eight and nine, Matthew inserts a narrative interlude describing two types of disciples. Here in the end of the chapter nine, Matthew concludes by giving his readers the impression that these two types of disciples are even more obvious now than they were before. In Israel, there are those who marvel at the authority of Jesus and those who ridicule his authority. The crowds who once questioned his authority now marvel, whereas the Scribes & Pharisees have their own disciples who continue to ridicule Jesus. Clearly the leadership of Israel is losing respect in the eyes of the people of Israel. While the Scribes and Pharisees ridicule Jesus, the crowds are becoming increasingly persuaded that Jesus is exactly who he claims to be: the true archon of Israel. 

1.  In Greek, the verb for "harassed" is in the perfect tense, signifying not only that they were harassed once-upon-a-time, but also that they were being harassed regularly.

He came. He saw. He conquered.

Veni. Vedi. Vici.  

These were the comments of Julius Caesar about a short battle he had just won -- part of what historians describe as his great military advance on earth. He came. He saw. He conquered. And in doing so, he brought military power and prestige to Rome along with it. This became his claim to fame, and little did the rest of the world at that time know that such a military victory would spark an even greater controversy in the near future -- a controversy about his divinity. Even though many of his close associates didn't consider him divine, his reputation and fame as such spread like a wildfire nonetheless, and it eventually got him assassinated, thereby throwing Rome into a civil war. Out from among this civil war there emerged a victor not only of military power, but a victor of god-like authority on earth. This victor, or winner, was none other than Julius' adopted son, Octavian. Octavian took the title "Augustus," meaning "honorable One," and declared emphatically that his father had indeed become divine, and in becoming divine, Augustus Octavian Caesar was to be officially deemed the "Son of God" throughout his empire. After taking this title upon himself, it didn't take long for people to realize that the politically correct answer to any question about who the "Son of God" was, would have been Caesar Augustus. 

Caesar Augustus ruled his massive empire from 31 B.C. to 14 A.D., and as the Scriptures record for us, that included the time of Jesus' birth (Luke 2:1) all the way through his life as a teenager. After he died, Tiberius reigned in his place (Luke 3:1) and took upon himself the honorable title of divinity as well. Since then, archeologists have discovered various artifacts corroborating these proclamations of divinity, one of which is a denarius (a coin) with an abbreviated inscription that says, "Augustus Tiberius Caesar, Son of the Divine Augustus." On the other side of that same coin is an image of Tiberius enthroned as a mediator, and above that image is the inscription, "Pontif Maxim," a reference to himself being the High Priest among the college of Pontiffs in Rome. It was, in fact, a coin like this one that was shown to Jesus shortly after his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, where he cleansed Herod's temple of it's idolatrous worship (Matt. 21:1-17; 22:15-22). 

Matthew 22:15-22 is where we find an account of this coin being handed to Jesus. In that narrative we learn that the Pharisees allied themselves with their enemies, the Herodians, in order to plot against Jesus and entrap him, thereby building a case against him for unlawful (and punishable) deeds. It is peculiarly interesting that the Herodians are found to be conspiring with the Pharisees. The Herodians were a political party that supported the tetrarch, Herod Antipas, and the Roman empire's rule over the Jews, even though, according to extra-biblical records, we know the Pharisees considered the Herodians to compromise Jewish political independence. But why wait until Jesus enters Jerusalem to conspire against him? Why not attempt to entrap him before his triumphal entry? We aren't told by Matthew. But because Matthew's narrative is structured this way, the confrontation by the Pharisees and Herodians upon Jesus in Matthew 22 is really best viewed as a commentary upon Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem and his claim to be The Divine King of kings  (which began in the previous chapter).

In Matthew's narrative, we learn that both religious parties conspire against Jesus and attempt to flatter him with pious expressions of student-like curiosity, saying:

Teacher! We know that you are true and teach the way of God truthfully. And we know you don't care about anyone's opinion, for you are not swayed by appearances. Therefore, please tell us what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not? (Matt. 22:16-17)

Because the subject of "lawful" taxation is like a hot potato in Christian circles -- everyone wants to pass it on to the next person and no one wants to be caught with it in their lap -- the main point of Matthew's narrative often gets completely overlooked. It seems to me that the point of Matthew's narrative is not to teach the Law, or even the way in which taxes could be lawfully paid, and so any attempt to use this passage as a prooftext for how to pay taxes lawfully is really missing the point. As I mentioned a few moments ago, it seems that this portion of Matthew's narrative functions as more of a commentary upon Jesus' triumphal entry. Let me explain further what I mean by this. 

In Matthew 22, Jesus is asked by both the Pharisees and the Herodian party whether it is was lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not. And obviously, no matter which answer Jesus gave, whether yes or no, his words could have been twisted to imply a claim to greater authority than either God or Tiberius Caesar, thereby causing Jesus to fall into their political and religious trap.  So Jesus responded wisely by asking them for a coin with which taxes to Caesar were paid. They brought a denarius to him, which, as was shown a few moments ago, contained an image of Tiberius Caesar on it. Jesus then took the coin and asked whose image was on it, to which they promptly replied, "Caesar's." He then suggested to pay both God and Caesar, but to Caesar, only those things which bear his image, yet to God those things which bear His image. As you can imagine, this created a dilemma for the Pharisees and Herodians, because it exposed the false dichotomy with which they were attempting to entrap him. But Jesus remained faithful to the truth and to the way of God, neither caring about their opinion, nor being swayed by their pious appearance. Jesus was Lord whether they wanted him to be their Lord or not. But Jesus also knew that the leadership of Israel didn't really want him to be their Lord, which is what makes the history surrounding his triumphal entry so profound. His triumphal entry into Jerusalem was a direct challenge to the tremendously corrupt and evil powers that existed in the first century.

This example of faithfulness on Jesus' part is a lesson which Christians need to learn and apply in every age, but it's especially important to keep in mind during this season of Lent as we await Palm Sunday (the day in which Christians commemorate Jesus' triumphal entry as the King of kings),  Good Friday (the day of Jesus' passion), and Pascha (the resurrection of Jesus).  As we just saw in Matthew 22, Jesus was not a careless man, easy to be entangled by the entrapments of powerful enemies of God; and neither should Christians be. When the world confronts the Christian with claims about Jesus's Lordship, and how he really is not presently reigning as The King of kings, we should not care about their opinions or be swayed by their pious appearance. We should recognize that every worldly authority -- whether it claims divinity for itself or not -- is still subservient to the real King of Kings, the Son of God, Jesus Christ the one and only Pontif Maxim. 

Jesus is King whether men accept him as the ruler of their lives or not. The world may want to claim a king of their own, and they might even get the military power and prestige that comes along with it, but Christians aren't flattered by worldly crowns and great military escapades which expand earthly empires. Christians cherish the humble glory of a life subservient to a King who rides into Jerusalem on a donkey and cleanses earthly temples of their man-made glory. Christians cherish the faithfulness of King Jesus because he is the way of God; he is the Truth even though many people prefer to believe in lies. Jesus is the Son of God whether Caesar claimed that title for himself or not. Men can claim anything they want for themselves, and they can even pay tribute to whatever man-made image they want. But if Jesus is true and he really did teach the way of God truthfully, then people had better pay tribute to the God who made man as His image. In other words, they ought to pay tribute to King Jesus. Sure, they ought to pay Caesar his tribute too, especially in those places where it is legitimately his due, but even Caesar would some day have to face the real Son of God. And if Caesar had to give an account before the real King of kings, how much more accountable are the worshipers of Caesar and other idolaters going to be on the day of judgment?

For our own well being, let us keep in mind as often as possible, but particularly in this season of Lent, that the one thing all men have in common is death. All men are appointed to die, and after that to face judgment for their own sins. And that judgment is going to come from God, the one and only, living and true judge of their sins (Heb. 9:27). But the great news of God's revelation is that He Himself has provided salvation from sin. It was that same Lord who rode into Jerusalem on a donkey long ago that also was crucified, died, and was buried as the only righteous man in history, and on the third day he rose again according to the promise of the Scriptures. Therefore men can face Him with their sins atoned in full if they die to self and live for Him. God's promise to us is that, 

If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. For the Scripture says, "Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame." For there is no distinction between Jew and Gentile; for the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing his riches on all who call on him. For "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved." (Romans 10:9-13)

Those who live and die with their own precious idols will not be saved from sin. Those who idolized Herod's Temple, like the Pharisees and Herodians, are dead, and they died in their sins. All those who worshiped Caesar and confessed his divine lordship over all are dead, and both Caesar and his worshipers died in their sins. But Christians who believe that Jesus Christ is Lord of all know that he is not dead. They know Jesus conquered through death, and the proof of his victory over death and it's enemies is his resurrection. The proof of his Lordship over your life is the pentecostal outpouring of His Spirit upon all nations (through which you believe today). Therefore, let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. Let us render unto God everything that is His, keeping in mind that everything is His.

Two Blind Men & The Burden of Israel

And as Jesus passed on from there, two blind men followed him, crying aloud, "Have mercy on us, Son of David!" When he entered the house, the blind men came near him, and Jesus said to them, "Do you believe that I am able to do this?" They said to him, "Yes, Lord!"  Then he touched their eyes, saying, "According to the faith of you both, for you both it is done." And their eyes had opened. And Jesus sternly warned them, "See that no one knows about it." But they went away and spread his fame through all that district.  (Matt. 9:27-31)

Throughout chapters eight and nine of Matthew's gospel, numerous miracles have taken place, and now we have finally arrived at one of the last two. At first glance this story might seem very ordinary, perhaps even bland because of its fast pace, but there is actually a lot packed into it, especially if this narrative is viewed in light of where and when it began (back in chapter eight).

In this brief narrative we learn that Jesus "passed on from there." We might then ask, from where?  Well, in context, Jesus has "passed on" from the Jewish "ruler's" house where Jesus had just performed a miracle. But more importantly, keep in mind the location from which Jesus had left in the first place. Keep in mind that immediately before Jesus followed the ruler to his house, Jesus had just left Matthew's house where a great feast was being held, and where Jesus was the honored guest. Now, in this brief narrative, we find Jesus leaving the ruler's house (presumably to return to Matthew's house) and immediately he's followed by blind men. This is somewhat ironic because Jesus had just left a place where the people were ridiculing him -- a place where faith in him was apparently minimal, if there was any faith to be found at all. Yet from what Matthew, Mark, and Luke all tell us, the people who ridiculed him could see clearly that the ruler's daughter was dead, which is why they ridiculed him.  And here we find blind men following after Jesus because apparently they see more clearly than anyone else at the ruler's house! 

But not only are these men blind, two of them are mentioned explicitly. The last time "two" of anything were mentioned was with the two demonic-oppressors on the other side of the Sea, in Gentile territory (Matt. 8:28), where the people rejected Jesus. But this mention of two men seems to be more than just a random, arbitrary fact. As Jesus returns from the "ruler's" house, these two men "cry aloud" to him as well. At this point, Matthew is striking a cord in the ears of those listening carefully to his gospel.

Can you remember the last time someone "cried out" to Jesus?

The last time that someone "cried aloud" to Jesus was, again, the two demonic oppressors on the other side of the Sea, in Gentile territory, where the people rejected Jesus for casting out demons. Matthew 8:28-29 describes part of that event:

And when he came to the other side [of the Sea of Galilee], ...two demonic-oppressors met him, coming out of the tombs, so fierce that no one could pass that way. And behold, they  cried out (krazo), "What have you to do with us, O Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?"

Just a couple verses before this brief encounter with the two blind men (Matt. 9:27-31) Jesus is pictured as leaving the ruler's house where a demonic spirit of ridicule is found (8:24), and because the people didn't even have enough faith to believe Jesus was making an elementary truth claim -- namely that the ruler's daughter was asleep, not dead -- Jesus didn't feel very welcome around that crowd for very long. And it's with that scenario in mind that we find Jesus returning back to the place from which he traveled, namely Matthew's house, and two blind men cry aloud (krazo) like the demons on the other side of the Sea; except this time, instead of attempting to flee away from Jesus, saying "What have you to do with us, O Son of God?" these two men are trying to draw near to Jesus, and to get his attention by shouting, "Have mercy on us, Son of David!" The vibe we should be getting from this brief encounter is that these two blind men might possibly be just as insincere and unfaithful as the crowd which just ridiculed Jesus. After all, these blind men were probably part of that crowd. But yet, considering all the other circumstances, these two blind men stand out as seeing what others in the crowd were unable to see, namely that Jesus was The King, the promised Messiah.

There also is a sense in which we learn these two blind men aren't very discerning. After all, they are making a very vocal display of their belief in his Kingly authority, and that probably was not something Jesus was as enthusiastic about vocalizing around the ruler's house. Just stop for a few moments to reflect on that possibility. When Jesus drew near to the ruler's house (i.e. the ruler of a synagogue), Jesus was very cautious about what he said and did. In Matthew's account, Jesus didn't make an ostentatious display of his power. He didn't even make any public promises. He simply saw all the flute players going through their professional routine, and that was enough evidence for him to draw as little attention as possible to his miraculous power and divine authority. He told everyone that the girl was asleep, not dead. And still, the crowds ridiculed him. But that didn't stop him from doing what he came to do. He walked into the ruler's house anyway, grabbed his daughter by the hand, and she rose from her previous state of unconsciousness. No other words are spoken; no ostentatious display of authority; just a quick, in-and-out encounter, and back to Matthew's house he goes. Yet these two blind men don't care that Jesus has just been ridiculed. These two blind men hear all of the commotion and they conclude that Jesus is indeed the King of kings -- the Messiah.  And so, while others stand in shock of what they just saw, these two blind men feel the urge to proclaim him as God's anointed One, even though they didn't see a thing!

From this point on, the story gets even more interesting. Now we have arrived at the point where we might expect Jesus to do something great in response to their "crying aloud." If we suspect their faith is indeed false, we might expect Jesus to rebuke them or to ask them to stop making a big scene. If we suspect their faith is great, we might expect Jesus to respond by healing them on the spot, just as he had done with the suffering woman in the previous narrative. But instead of responding to their cries, we find perplexing silence from Jesus. Jesus just keeps on walking without speaking a word. And it's not until Jesus returns to "the house" from which he left earlier (i.e. "the house" in which Matthew threw a feast for Jesus earlier that day; Matt. 9:10) that we find Jesus saying some thing to these blind men. Not only do these two blind men believe Jesus is the Messianic King -- which was a huge claim to be making publicly in those days -- but their faith carries them all the way back to Matthew's house! Remember, these men were blind, not deaf!

But this is not all. There are still a few subtleties which need to be drawn out in order to appreciate the depth of Matthew's narrative. Not only do these men follow Jesus back to Matthew's house (c.f. Matt. 9:10 & 9:28), but when they finally do enter his home, the first thing they do is "come near" him. In Greek, this word is proserchomai, which means to come or go toward something. It's the same verb used to describe the suffering woman in Matthew's house who "came near" behind Jesus and touched the tassel of his garments as he was leaving to heal the ruler's daughter. Here again in Matthew's house, the two blind men come near to Jesus, echoing the great faith of the woman who suffered for twelves years.

...and Jesus said to them, "Do you believe that I am able to do this?"

Now I don't know about you, but when I first read this, I got the impression that Jesus was still a bit skeptical about their sincerity. And if he wasn't skeptical (which might just be my own perception of Matthew's narrative), he was at least testing their commitment to their very own claims about his divinity. Notice carefully that Jesus doesn't simply heal them after they draw near. Instead, Jesus asks them about their belief in his ability. He asks, "Do you believe I am able to do this?  Again, we find an echo from a previous encounter with Jesus. At the very beginning of this ongoing series of miracles, Jesus is confronted by a leper who tells Jesus, "Lord, if you will, you are able to make me clean." Then Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, "I will. Be cleansed!" (Matt. 8:2-3). Here, towards the end of this ongoing series of miracles, we find a faith which Jesus seems skeptical about. Instead of presuming that they have come near to him because they believe he can do this, he asks if they believe he can do this. What the leper stated boldly at the outset of this larger narrative, Jesus wants to ensure is the case with these blind men. 

But sill, we might ask, what ability is he asking them to believe in? In other words, believe in what? So far, the only thing which the blind men have been crying out for Jesus to do is to show mercy on them. But what does the mercy they're interested in look like? Does Matthew assume some connection between the leper's belief in cleansing ability, or are we supposed to make a connection between something else? Perhaps Matthew writes it this way to have us question their faith, thereby making a connection between their need for true faith and Jesus' ability to provide it for them. There isn't any way to be sure what the exact idea was that Matthew had in mind. Perhaps it was all three abilities: the ability to cleanse, increase faith, and heal. Perhaps.

My own personal opinion is that within the immediate context of Matthew's narrative, mercy is most likely what Jesus had in mind when he asked them about their belief in his ability. In other words, Jesus asks them if they believe he is able to show mercy in tangible, practical ways (like cleansing and healing). After all, it was within Matthew's house that Jesus teaches God's desire for mercy, not sacrifice (9:13). And when the ruler of the synagogue came and knelt before Jesus, interrupting the feast, Jesus rose and followed him because God desires mercy, not sacrifice. When the unclean woman clung to the tassel of his garment to get his attention as he was leaving, Jesus stopped, turned around, and healed her because God desires mercy, not sacrifice. And when Jesus arrived at the ruler's house, only to find crowds who would sooner ridicule him than believe simple truths, he went into the house anyway to raise the girl to life again because God desires mercy, not sacrifice. Now, after returning to Matthew's house, these two blind men come near to him in faith, and instead of showing mercy immediately, Jesus asks them if they believe he is able to show mercy. How else would Jesus know they believe in his ability, other than to ask a simple question? After all, how would they have known Jesus healed the ruler's daughter? They didn't see Jesus heal anyone! They're blind! They can't see anything. The only evidence they had to "see" concerning Jesus' divine authority were the mixed opinions of crowds who ridiculed and gossiped about him. Yet still, they believed, and so even when they're confronted with Jesus' question, they answer unhesitatingly with an affirmative "Yes, Lord!"

Jesus therefore aptly responds with more than mere words. He responds with a "touch." This touch is the same action with which the suffering woman came near to Jesus for receiving life again (9:20), and it's also the same action which Jesus chose to use when cleansing the leper at the very beginning of this larger narrative (8:3). Then Jesus says:

"According to the faith of you both, for you both it is done." And their eyes had opened.

As I picture this historical event in my mind, I imagine Jesus reaching one hand out to each blind man, with his fingers resting upon their eyelids, and at the very moment when Jesus said the words "according to the faith of you both..." they knew the Son of God -- not just the Son of David -- was showing mercy upon them. They knew God himself was laying his hand upon them. They knew that the person they followed all the way back to Matthew's house was the living and true God who had come to show mercy upon the people of Israel. If this was indeed the case, what a tremendous faith!

But then the story makes a surprising shift again. After their eyes had opened, we find that Jesus "sternly warned them." This is not what one might expect to receive after traveling blindly from such a distance, and being drilled for an expression of sincere faith. Interestingly, in the original Greek text, the word translated as "sternly warned" denotes Jesus' indignation, giving the very clear impression that Jesus was scolding them. But because there isn't anything within the surrounding narrative to warrant indignation or scolding, "sternly warned" is probably a better way of smoothing over the connotations of Jesus' feelings toward them. The connotation of a stern warning is considerable caution, and even fatigue, which might be the reason why Matthew describes Jesus as warning so frankly and abruptly. And if his fatigue was truly an aspect of the caution Matthew is depicting, Matthew is finally coming around full circle in his depiction of Jesus the suffering servant (as quoted earlier in Matt. 8:17). 

Let us reconsider something I mentioned earlier in this post, namely that Jesus is not interested at all in ostentatious displays of power and authority. Jesus doesn't go around healing and working miracles to showboat his divine skills. He doesn't walk around touting how marvelously powerful he is, or how magnificent his display of Kingly authority can be. Even from the beginning of chapter eight, with the first miraculous account of healing a leper, we learned that Jesus cleansed him because the man was coming to him, and yet Jesus told him, "See that you say nothing to anyone..." (Matt. 8:4).  By the end of the third miracle -- and what appears to be the evening of that same day -- we learn that many Israelites were flocking to Jesus for healing. Nowhere does Matthew leave us with an impression that Jesus was advertising his power. As time moved on, more and more people within Israel recognized that he truly was unique among men. He cared for and healed the people of Israel, not because he gained more and more popularity from it, but because he loved them; that was the calling of the Messiah. After the third miracle (Matt. 8:16-17), we learn that:

That evening they brought to him many who were oppressed by demons, and he cast out the spirits with a word and healed all who were sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: "He took our illnesses and bore our diseases."

By the end of chapter nine, after a continual series of miracles and an increase of popularity throughout Israel, Jesus seems exhausted; Jesus seems burdened. And if we are reading this miracle with the two blind men within the larger context of chapters 8 & 9, the reason why Jesus probably didn't respond to the cries of these two blind men was because of the weight of the burdens he had already been carrying. Jesus is the God-man, but he is still human. He still needs rest. He needs practical help from others too. He can't do everything, all by himself, for ever. And yet throughout chapters 8 & 9, Matthew depicts the ministry of Jesus as though there is little-to-no rest for his head (8:20). So far, the only rest we find Jesus taking is in the bottom deck of a boat, and he's in such a deep sleep that he doesn't even know there's a storm so great outside that it's about to sink the boat! It's as though, no matter where Jesus goes, there's always something to be done and therefore some rest to be interrupted. And when Jesus gets back to land, there's always someone new who wants to follow him, or someone new who needs healing from him. Day after day, night after night, the burden increases. Yet Jesus doesn't stop showing compassion. Jesus continues to bear the burden no matter how little the sleep or how great the increase of burden. 

This unique account of ignoring, then questioning, then finally healing of these two blind men, followed by a stern warning, is designed to give us the clear impression that Jesus is burdened. And the final statement about their excitement, the statement that "they went away and spread his fame through all that district," should actually heighten our sense of the inescapable, unavoidable, and increasingly immense burden which Jesus had to bear for the people of Israel.  

Matthew's narrative, above all, makes clear that among all the people of Israel, especially among it's ruler's, Jesus alone truly carried Israel's burdens, taking upon himself their illnesses and diseases. Little did they know, at that time, that not only would Jesus carry their diseases, but he would be the only one willing carry all of their sins as well. This wilderness stage of Jesus' ministry is only the beginning of a burdened ministry, the destination of which is a crown of thorns and a cross with a sign affixed above it, saying, "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews."

Salvation from death, part 3

...While he was saying these things to them, behold! one of the rulers came in and knelt before him, saying, "My daughter has died just now! Nevertheless, come place your hand upon her, and she will live." And Jesus rose and followed him, with his disciples. And behold! a woman who had suffered from a discharge of blood for twelve years came near behind him and caught hold of the tassel of his garment, for she said to herself, "If only I just catch hold of his garment, I will be saved." Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, "Have courage, daughter! Your faith has saved you." And the woman was saved from that very moment. And when Jesus came to the ruler's house and saw the flute players and the crowd causing a disturbance, he said, "Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping." And they ridiculed him. But when the crowd had been cast out, he went in and grabbed hold of her by the hand; and the girl arose, and this news went out into all that district.  (Matthew 9:18-26)

As I mentioned in the previous post, salvation from death is the central focus of this narrative, and it's central character is a "daughter" of Israel (9:22) who had been suffering for twelve years because of a medical condition which made her ceremonially unclean according to Pharisaical standards of law. But before the arrival of this central character, Matthew began this miraculous narrative with a Jewish ruler interrupting table fellowship within his house. This ruler interrupted table-fellowship in order to tell Jesus about his dead daughter and his trust that if Jesus would only travel to his house to "place his hand upon her," her life would surely be restored. And to the amazement of everyone in the house, Jesus actually got up and followed this ruler to his house! It is only after the second interruption by the suffering "daughter" of Israel that Matthew tells us:

Jesus came to the ruler's house and saw the flute players and the crowd causing a disturbance, he said, "Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping." And they ridiculed him. But when the crowd had been cast out, he went in and grabbed hold of her by the hand; and the girl arose, and this news went out into all that district.

There are few things about the ending of Matthew's story which are very peculiar. First of all, Matthew's account of these events is much shorter than the gospels of Mark and Luke. Matthew's ending is merely four verses long, whereas Luke has expanded his ending to total nine verses, and Mark expanded his to ten verses in length. Therefore the endings of Mark and Luke are each more than double the length of Matthew's ending. Surely Matthew must have had a very different focus in mind when writing the details of his narrative. 

Secondarily, the description of people whom Matthew highlights at the ruler's house are very peculiar. In Mark and Luke, Jesus finally arrives at the ruler's house and he sees everyone mourning over the loss of the ruler's daughter. No specific description of people are mentioned as mourning because everyone is mourning. But in Matthew's story, he mentions two groups of people in sight: the "flute players" and "the crowd," and none of them are said to be mourning. In Matthew's account, there are no tears, no sorrow, and no weeping among the crowd. Instead, this nondescript "crowd" is described as "causing a disturbance," and nothing more is said about the way in which a disturbance was being caused. This disturbing crowd is simply a general reference to people who were already there at Matthew's house or had rushed ahead of Jesus as he followed the ruler to his house. But notice carefully that before Matthew mentions the very nondescript and general "crowd" of disturbance, he highlights a very descriptive group of people among the crowd, a group whom everyone recognized as flute players. This is interesting because the mention of "flute players" is unique to Matthew's account. There is no mention of flute players at all in Mark or Luke. Therefore it's reasonable to ask why Matthew goes out of his way to distinguish "flute players" among the rest of the crowd who are "causing a disturbance."  What would this have meant to Matthew's Jewish audience?  How would Jesus' audience have identified with these flute players?

I think the reason for this specific mention of flute players by name is because Matthew's Jewish audience would have been familiar with the common customs in Israel pertaining to the death of friends and family. Although this might sound strange to modern American and European customs, by the turn of the first century it was very common among the wealthier class of Jews to hire professional mourners upon the announcement of a deceased loved one; and these professional services included flute players. Commenting on this passage of Matthew's gospel, Craig Keener observes:

Mourning was of great importance, and because bodies decomposed rapidly, mourners gathered quickly. Women mourners (according to the rabbis: Jos. War. 3.437) were hired to display grief as ostentatiously as possible, and flutists normally accompanied them (11:17; Jos. War. 3437), as Matthew adds here.1

As one might imagine, the ostentatious profession of flute-playing could be viewed as a very insincere practice by many Jews, especially Jews who would have mourned out of the genuine sincerity of their own hearts and love toward their brethren. But such genuineness of heart and sympathy for the loss of loved ones is completely omitted from Matthew's account. Instead, Matthew portrays a crowd causing a "disturbance," while at the same time being accompanied by professional flute players that are paid to entertain the weeping friends and family. Instead of finding a scene where the righteous weep compassionately with other loved ones, Matthew gives the impression that the rabbinical traditions are interfering with the true healing that is needed. 

And this is an ironic twist of events because the story has begun with such an overwhelmingly positive account of faith by the Jewish ruler; and since his faith in Jesus was so great and so profound, we should expect to find another positive account of faith with someone at his house. But in fact, when we look carefully, sadly, we don't find any positive account of faith. We don't even find a repeated emphasis upon the ruler's faith as Jesus raises his daughter from death to life again! (And in fact, there really isn't any emphasis upon that miracle either!) This, I contend, is a very intriguing way to end such an emotionally charged and exciting narrative, and Matthew has done this intentionally. Matthew has structured this narrative so that at the point in which we expect to find something extraordinarily positive and faithful, we find the very opposite; we find an expression of piety which is surprisingly negative and faithless. And Jesus seems to have sensed this as well when he arrived at the ruler's house. Instead of telling the ruler or his wife or his disciples that he can raise the girl from death to life, the only thing that Matthew wants us to know is that Jesus was trying to avoid that kind of attention at the ruler's house. Instead of pronouncing his great power, he simply says: 

"Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping."

This statement is short, simple, and easy to believe. But immediately after Jesus speaks this way, any and all hopes we might have had for seeing another great testimony of faith, like the ruler or the suffering woman, get dashed to pieces. Immediately after Jesus tells them this simple, plausible statement -- that she's not actually dead, but instead is sleeping -- Matthew tells us that "they ridiculed him." Wow. Talk about a contrast of faith!  Jesus tells them something that is very easy to believe. He tells them that the girl is alive, not dead; she is sleeping, and all she needs to be is woken up. But the crowds think they know better than Jesus. They know what they're eyes have seen and what they're ears have heard. They understood that when professional flute players start playing some tunes, someone has died. And once someone has died for sure, there's no point in pretending it's only a deep sleep. And so, what we find in this ending of Matthew's narrative is a very clear portrait of faith, but it's not faith in Jesus; it's faith in their own traditions; it's faith in their own wisdom and experience; it's faith in their own ability to see and hear the truth. And interestingly, the following disciples who approach Jesus in faith are blind and deaf/mute (vv. 27, 32)!

Now let's take a few steps back and look at the entire picture of this brief narrative. Let's zoom out and compare the faith of this crowd, along with its flute players, with the faith of others in this story. Matthew begins this story with feasting and "reclining at table" with tax collectors and "sinners" (which was a snobbish Pharisaical label placed upon Jews who don't observe the Torah as strictly as the Pharisees). But Jesus stops feasting because he finally sees a "ruler" of Israel whose faith is tremendous. Jesus stops feasting in order to draw near to an unclean daughter of a faithful Jewish ruler. And as he is leaving the feast he finds another unclean "daughter" of Israel in great need already near to him. This woman draws near in trusting faith and full assurance that Jesus is the only ruler in Israel who can save. This woman, as well as the "ruler" of the synagogue, does not go to other well-known Jewish leaders -- not the Scribes, the Pharisees, or the disciples of John. Instead they both go to Jesus because they know Jesus alone has greater authority than the Scribes and Pharisees. They both believe in salvation from death. But not only do they believe that Jesus is the only one who could save from death, they believe that he could do so with only a touch. They believe Jesus was the only ruler of Israel who could make the unclean "sinner" clean, thereby bringing the ceremonially dead back to life again. Both the ruler and the suffering "daughter" of Israel draw near to Jesus because they see God in their midst first drawing near to "sinners" like themselves -- "sinners" whom the Scribes and Pharisees would refuse to eat with because of their man-made traditions. While the rulers of Israel restrict access into Herod's Temple for reasons of uncleanness, Jesus draws near to Israel by "tabernacling," teaching, and healing among them. 

And unlike the ruler and the suffering "daughter" whom Jesus gladly welcomed near to him, Jesus casts out (ekballo) the crowds from the ruler's house like the demonic oppressors on the other side of the Sea had been "cast out" (ekballo) by Jesus (8:31-32). And he does so for a very good reason: the crowd does not care about Jesus' authority, nor are they interested in trusting the words of Jesus as truth. And in this sense, even the demons on the other side of the Sea have greater faith in Jesus than they do! At least the demons believed Jesus was the "Son of God" (8:29)! Here in the ending of this narrative, the crowds and their flute players don't even believe that much. They don't care if he claims to be the Son of God, and they certainly don't believe Jesus has authority from God to show mercy by raising the girl to life again. Instead of desiring mercy, they only care about appearing merciful before others. Instead of sacrificing their own time and energy by weeping with those who weep, and comforting those who mourn, they play flutes because that's what they're paid to do. Instead of trusting the simplicity of God's word that the girl is not dead, but sleeping, they ridicule him. This is because their faith is worse than demons. Their faith is like the Scribes and Pharisees who question Jesus' authority to teach and heal Israel. Therefore it comes as no surprise to find out after the girl arises according to the word of Jesus, "this news went out into all that district." The crowds don't know what to think about Jesus and his authority. What kind of man is this? How did he know the girl was not dead, but sleeping? 

In Matthew’s story, the land of Israel is in great need of healing and restoration, and Jesus has come to do just that. But Jesus does not come to save the righteous. He comes to save sinners. Jesus comes to heal and save because his desire is not for adherence to Pharisaical law, but rather for loyal, merciful love. Among Israel, there are many who are outwardly clean, but their faith is really dead on the inside. Those who are clean, like the Scribes and Pharisees, may have access within the Temple granted to them, but the “ruler” of the synagogue and an unclean "daughter" of Israel both know better than the Scribes and Pharisees. They know God is tabernacling among them. And sadly, because the leadership of Israel is so unfaithful, deriding laughter among their disciples still remains. 

 1.  Craig Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company; 2009] p. 304