The Center of Matthew's Gospel (Matthew 13 & it's literary structure)

Continuing where I left off in this series of Matthew's Gospel, we finally arrive at the center of the book: chapter thirteen. As usual, with the way I prefer approaching each section of the Bible, identifying the literary structure is very important. It's not crucial or absolutely essential to a proper interpretation of every section, but it's extremely valuable to identify nonetheless. But chapter thirteen poses a few dilemmas in this regard. Some aspects of the structure are obvious, but because of multiple overlapping layers, it's difficult to reduce the overall structure to something simple.

At first glance, what is most obvious about chapter thirteen is that it's one of the five "pillar" discourses of Matthew's gospel, and it clearly begins at verse 1 and ends at verse 52. Verse 53 begins a new section with the literary marker, "and when Jesus had finished...", as found at the end of each of the five "pillars" of Matthew's gospel. 

A second glance will show that chapter 13 consists entirely of parables and explanations about parables. There are seven parables about the "Kingdom of Heaven" and an eighth parable addressed to the twelve apostles about scribes being trained for the "Kingdom of Heaven."

A few more glances will show similarities between parables. For example, the first parable (the parable of the sower) is presented and explained later on. The same is true for the "parable of the tares." That too is presented and then followed by a detailed explanation. Also, between these two parables (the parable of the sower with it's explanation and the parable of the tares with its explanation), there are two quotations from the old testament Scriptures in reference to "fulfillment." Even a cursory glance at the way modern bibles often subdivide each chapter into smaller sections will make this appear very obvious. This arrangement certainly seems intentional on Matthew's part. But that's not all. There are also a handful of very brief parables, sharing similarities between them. The third and fourth parables, the parable of the mustard seed and the parable of the leaven, are similar in meaning to each other. The fifth and sixth parables (of hidden treasure and a merchant who finds a pearl of great value) are both similar in meaning to each other. 

Below are a number of ways in which this structure can be laid out pictorially. Davies & Allison structure chapter 13 in three sections of three (as seen below)1:

13:1-9            Parable of the sower
13:10-17        Discussion of parables (+ scriptural allusion)
13:18-23        Interpretation of the sower

13:24-30        Parable of the tares
13:31-32        Parable of the mustard seed
13:33             Parable of the leaven
13:34-35        Discussion of parables (+ scriptural citation)
13:36-43        Interpretation of the tares

13:44             Parable of the treasure
13:45-46        Parable of the pearl
13:47-48        Parable of the net
13:49-50        Interpretation of the net
13:51-52        Discussion of parables (saying on treasure)


R.T. France attempts to lay the structure out somewhat chiastically2:

1-3a      Teaching by the lake
      3b-9      Opening parable: the sower
            10-17      About teaching in parables
            18-23      Explanation of the sower
      24-33      Three further parables of growth (weeds, mustard seed, leaven)
            34-35      About teaching in parables
            36-43      Explanation of the weeds
      44-50      Three further short parables (treasure, pearl, net)
      51-52      Concluding parable: the householder
53      Moving on

In my own attempt to outline the structure of chapter thirteen, I came up with three potential layouts, the first of which is very similar to France's chiastic outline above, and the last of which is similar to the triadic outline of Davies & Allison. Perhaps most important aspect worth noting about each of my outlines  (below) is the three fold division & progression of sowing, cultivating, and harvesting. That, to me, seems to be the logical progression of each triad of parables. 

Layout #1

A)  Teaching many things in parables (vv. 1-3a)

     

     B1)  Parable of The Sower, sowing the word of the kingdom (vv. 3b-9)

            C1)  Understanding parables (vv. 10-17)

            C2)  Parable explained (vv. 18-23)

     B2)  Three parables of cultivating the Kingdom (vv. 24-33)

            C1’)  Understanding parables (vv. 34-35)

            C2’)  Parables explained (vv. 36-43)

     B3)  Three parables about harvesting the Kingdom (vv. 44-50)

A’)  Understanding all these things in a parable (vv. 51-52)

Layout #2

A1)  Parable of The Sower, sowing the word of the kingdom (vv. 1-9)

      B1)  Understanding parables (vv. 10-17)

            C1)  Parable explained (vv. 18-23)

A2)  Three parables of cultivating the Kingdom (vv. 24-33)

      B2)  Understanding parables (vv. 34-35)

            C2)  Parables explained (vv. 36-43)

A3)  Three parables about harvesting the Kingdom (vv. 44-48)

            C3)  Parables explained (vv. 49-50)

      B3)  Understanding parables (vv. 51-52)

Layout #3

A1)  Parable of The Sower, sowing the word of the kingdom (vv. 1-9)

      B)  Understanding parables (vv. 10-17)

A1’)  Parable explained (vv. 18-23)

A2)  Three parables of cultivating the Kingdom (vv. 24-33)

      C)  Understanding parables (vv. 34-35)

A2’)  Parables explained (vv. 36-43)

A3)  Three parables about harvesting the Kingdom (vv. 44-48)

      D)  Parables explained (vv. 49-50)

A3’)  Understanding parables (vv. 51-52)

1.  W.D. Davies and D.C. Allison, International Critical Commentary: Matthew 8-18 (vol. 2) [New York, NY: T&T Clark, 1991] p. 371

2.  R.T. France, New International Commentary on the New Testament: The Gospel of Matthew [Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company; 2007] p. 501

Kingdom Not of this World

In my last post on John, I mentioned briefly the way in which I understand Jesus's statement about His kingdom not being "of this world." In context, I believe Jesus was describing a kingdom which has an origin that is not of ethnic Israel, and therefore Jesus' own kingship is not of ethnic Israel either, which Pilate had asked Him about immediately before. Jesus' response was to clarify that He is a king, but He is not a king in the sense which Pilate had asked concerning uniquely Jewish character and limitations (i.e. "are you the King of the Jews?"), as though being a descendant of David, the King of Israel, limits is His kingly domain and origin to geopolitical Israel.

In response to this perspective of mine, I imagine that someone reading this post might object, arguing that Jesus spoke of a "world," not a Jewish territory, and therefore Jesus was contrasting this present world in which fallen humanity lives (the cursed world prior to the promised consummation of all things) with another "world" that is not essential to this present world (whatever that looks like). My response to such an objection is two fold: first, I have a difficult time understanding why some christians have a fascination with imagining other "worlds," as though the Scriptures actually talk that way, using the term "world" in the same ways they imagine. I especially find this emphasis upon an imaginative duality of "worlds" to be odd considering the dominating emphasis of Scripture upon restoring this present world. And so, even the concept of "dual worlds" seems, in my mind, to be misplaced and even unnecessary. Second, such a duality of emphasis is not the way John uses the term "world" all throughout his own gospel, nor is that the way Jesus used the term in the immediate context surrounding His discussion with Pilate. 

As we saw a couple posts earlier, Jesus' discussion with Pilate takes place in the center of a much larger narrative, in the center of chapters 18 & 19. In the preceding pericope, Jesus uses similar language, arguing before the High Priest, saying,  "I have spoken openly to the world. I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all Jews come together" (18:20). Here, I think it is clear that "the world" is intentionally parallel with those meeting places of Jews. Jesus began with a reference to the world, but he clarifies further about where in "the world" and to whom in "the world" he spoke publicly. He spoke "in synagogues and in the temple, where all Jews come together." In fact, as far as John's gospel is concerned, there are very few places where Jesus is not found teaching Jews, speaking in "the world" of first century Judaism. John's gospel just so happens to be the only gospel in which the majority of Jesus' ministry takes place in Jerusalem, and I find it incredibly unlikely that John's audience would not have noticed that. All three synoptic gospels portray Jesus teaching outside Jerusalem and finally traveling to Jerusalem at the very end of His ministry. But John portrays "the world" in which Jesus ministered very differently. In John's gospel, Jesus is portrayed as "tabernacling" among His people in "the world" of Jews, especially in the world's capital, Jerusalem. And in John 18:20, Jesus describes this ministry, primarily located in Jerusalem, and more broadly with Jews, as speaking "to the world." In my mind, "the world" to which Jesus made reference about the origin of His kingdom is directly connected with a very Jewish cosmos.

But still there are those who may argue differently, insisting that I'm missing the point (or some excuse like that). A few recent examples come to mind, actually. Not too long ago, an acquaintance of mine told me that Jesus' kingdom does not presently reign over this fallen world, but instead consists of some qualitatively different reality, a reality that is "heavenly" and reigns over a qualitatively different "world" (whatever that means). One result from this view is that our citizenship in Jesus' kingdom consists of this same duality, a duality which does not actually reign over this fallen world. Indeed, through such a view, the kingdoms of this world are presumed to not become subservient to the Kingdom of our Lord, which seems to me to conflict with the dominating themes of Scripture that speak of dominion and victory in and over this world for the people of God.

In another recent discussion, a christian man told me that Jesus' words to Pilate about His kingdom were referring to where Christians ought to focus their attention at all times. He even went so far as to say that Jesus' words are "all the support needed for where our concern should be." In other words, he believed that according to Jesus' words to Pilate, and only Jesus' words to Pilate, Christians should be concerned with things going on in a location that is not "of this world" (ek tou kosmou). Of course, I questioned the arbitrariness of that interpretation. As far as I understood things at that time, I considered Jesus words to be very similar to words which He has spoken just a couple chapters earlier, in His high-priestly prayer. In John 17:14-16, Jesus referred to Himself and His disciples in a similar way as He did with His kingdom before Pilate. There His disciples are said to be not "of the world" (ek tou kosmou). I interpret that as meaning of a "wordiness" akin to the Jews who repeatedly rejected Him throughout John's gospel. Certainly what Jesus did not mean was that His disciples were not located within this present fallen world. That would be absurd because Jesus was in this fallen world as He prayed that prayer. And also, He couldn't have meant that His disciples were to have no direct transformational influence upon this present fallen world, because in the very next verses Jesus prays that they would impact the world in which they are sent. Jesus says, "Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth." Whatever kind of "world" we think Jesus was sending His disciples into, whether it's a particularly Jewish territory antagonistic to Jesus' message or a region encompassing all the earth, Jesus' point remains the same: He sent them into the "world" to have a transforming affect upon it. The earthly emphasis of Jesus is really difficult to avoid, especially given the much larger context of John's gospel. 

But still some might say, 'Well, what about Philippians 3:20, in which Paul says that "our citizenship is in heaven"?'

To answer that question, I will link to a blog post of John Barach which begins with a lengthy and helpful quote from N.T. Wright, and then follows through with some further thoughts about "citizenship in heaven." That blog post can be found here. Enjoy.

No guilt found in Him (John 18:28-19:16)

Continuing where I left off in John's gospel, we finally arrive at the central section of chapters 18 & 19. As shown below, John structures this section in a seven-point chiasm, with the center focusing upon Jesus' coronation as King. All seven points are easy to distinguish as well, primarily because the most noticeable literary feature of this section is its frequent movement from outside to inside and back outside again, repeated twice (as seen below):

John 18:28-19:6

A)  Outside the Praetorium  (18:28-32)

   B)  Inside the Praetorium  (18:33-38a)

      C)  Outside the Praetorium  (18:38b-40)

         D)  Pilate takes Jesus, punishes Him, crowns and clothes Him as "King of the Jews"  (19:1-3) 

      C')  Outside the Praetorium  (19:4-8)

   B')  Inside the Praetorium  (19:9-11)

A')  Outside the Praetorium  (19:12-16)

There are many ironies found within this central section, only a few of which I have time to list below in this post, but two great ironies come immediately to mind: first, ever since Jesus' arrest in the garden began in chapter 18, no one has been an advocate of Jesus' kingship, but in this section, John portrays Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, as being a ruler over the Jews, a "world ruler" of sorts, able to apply the heaviest punishment upon evildoers, the punishment of death; and in John's narrative, this world ruler is the only sincere advocate of Jesus' Kingship. This is especially noticeable when set in contrast with the second irony, that the chief priests refuse to enter the Praetorium where Jesus and Pilate privately discuss His kingship. John even tells us why they refused to enter the Praetorium. John says that "...it was early, and they [the Jewish Leaders] themselves did not enter into the Praetorium so that they would not be defiled, but might eat the Passover" (John 18:28). It was because of their own misunderstanding and distortion of God's Law that a firm belief developed about God disqualifying them from eating the Passover lamb, had they entered "unclean" space among the Gentiles. These kinds of man-made traditions were so precious that their eyes became blinded to who Yahweh really was, and by the time their Messiah arrives on the scene, they cared more about slaughtering and eating a literal lamb in God's sight than they did betraying and slaughtering the "Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world" (John 1:29, 36).

The way John compacts all of this together in chapters 18 & 19 is really interesting. Jesus has been arrested in a garden, examined in a courtyard, and now he's dragged out into the world, outside the courtyard, to be crowned by a world ruler and presented back to the Jews as "your King" (John 19:14). The "chief priests" (18:35) accuse Jesus of "doing evil" (18:30) in order to justify handing Him over to this world ruler to die (18:31-32). They would crucify Jesus themselves, but empirical Law won't allow them to do so (18:31). John also makes a point of telling us that this day of crowning and slaughtering Jesus was also the "Day of Preparation of the Passover" (19:14). So then, while the chief priests stay back in the "courtyard", they think they are spared from defilement in preparation for Passover; but little did they know that by handing Jesus over to Pilate they were defiling themselves by handing over the Lamb of God with hands full of innocent blood.

The narrative gets even more interesting once we see what goes on inside the Praetorium. While the chief priests stay outside, Pilate engages in two private discussions inside with Jesus. Pilate asks Jesus if He is the King of the Jews (18:33), which is an odd question in and of itself unless rumors had already spread throughout Judea about Jesus being the King of the Jews. Jesus' response to Pilate's question is also kind of odd. Instead of answering with a simple 'yes' or 'no', Jesus responds in a way which makes Pilate affirm His kingship (18:36-37). Pilate also asks Jesus what evil He has done to deserve being handed over by the chief priests, and Jesus responds, again somewhat oddly, by talking about His kingdom. By affirming that He has a kingdom, He infers that He is a King. By affirming that His kingdom is not "of this world" (ek tou kosmou), He is inferring that His kingship originates outside of and rules beyond Jewish aristocracy. In other words, Jesus answers Pilate's question negatively about being the "King of the Jews," while at the same time maintaining positively that He is indeed a King who has a Kingdom that is not of Jewish, or "this-worldly" origin. Jesus even repeats Himself, clarifying some of what we might consider to be ambiguity of meaning, saying that His kingdom is "not from this world" (18:36). In the second discussion with Jesus, Pilate asks Jesus where He, not His kingdom, is from, and Jesus gives no answer (19:9). Pilate informs Jesus that he has the authority to crucify or release Him, but Jesus reminds Pilate what it means for His kingdom to not be "of this world." Jesus informs Pilate that he would have no authority over Him unless it had been given to him from above (19:11); therefore Pilate is really off the hook as far as ultimate authority is concerned, and the Jewish rulers have the greater sin for preparing Him for slaughter.

Pilate then offers to release Jesus in the place of an insurrectionist named Barabbas. Pilate doesn't want to be the "bad guy," and so he declares Jesus' innocence and then appeals to the Jewish rulers to choose between Jesus and Barabbas. By appealing to the Jewish rulers to make a decision, the blood is on their hands. Interestingly, the name Barabbas means "son of the Father," but when given the choice between releasing a false son of the Father or the true Son of the Father, the Jewish rulers choose the false "son." This irony only adds to the contrast between Pilate's intentions and the chief priests. After each discussion inside, Pilate goes outside to defend Jesus, declaring Jesus' innocence publicly three times, saying "I find no guilt in Him" (18:38; 19:4, 6, sections C & C' above). By seeking to release Jesus, Pilate takes upon himself the role of a high priest, releasing a scapegoat on the day of atonement, the day in which Jesus would atone for the sins of the world. By publicly confessing Jesus' innocence three times, John also portrays Pilate as a type of Peter who makes a greater confession in all three places where Peter had the opportunity to, but instead denied his Lord. As a greater confessor, Pilate is portrayed as a "good guy" who, above all the people in chapter 18 & 19, seems to actually treat Jesus as a true King, a true world ruler whose authority is not vested in Jewish aristocracy. Pilate wants to release Jesus and He knows there is something significantly wrong with the situation he is in. He knows Jesus doesn't deserve death. He knows Jesus is considered a king of sorts in the eyes of some Jews, and so he shames Jesus by scourging and presenting Him before the Jews in mock-coronation fashion. Jesus is crowned with thorns and arrayed in a purple robe, a royal robe of glory worn by people of nobility. Jesus is even mocked by Pilate's officers, hailing Him as the "King of the Jews." Over and over again Pilate wants to release Jesus, but the Jewish rulers won't stop pressuring him until Jesus is slain. By handing Jesus over to Pilate, along with his repeated declaration of there being no blemish of evil in Him, the chief priests are portrayed as the ones who prepare the paschal lamb to be slaughtered on the Day of Preparation.

Toward the end of all these events with Pilate going inside and out, again and again, John tells us that Pilate finally brings Jesus out and sits down upon a "seat of judgment" in a place called "The Stone Pavement." Here the Greek is ambiguous, leaving at least the grammatical possibility that Pilate sat Jesus down in the "seat of judgment." Regardless of who actually sat down in the judgment seat, whether Pilate or Jesus, the overall scene of Jesus with Pilate, two "world rulers" together, at the judgment-seat is really the main picture John is portraying for us. Here at the judgment-seat, John tells us that the place of this final scene of judgment was called "The Stone Pavement." In Greek this "Stone Pavement" is lithostroton, and is found elsewhere in Scripture, and in a passage that would be very familiar to first century Jews. In II Chronicles chapter seven we find Solomon dedicating the Temple, and in verse 3 Yahweh is described as descending in glorious fire upon His House with the people of Israel bowing down with their faces to the "stone pavement" (lithostroton) before Him. In John's narrative, the King of the world stands before Israel, scourged and bloody, crowned and robed in purple, but they won't bow down with their faces to the stone pavement before Him. They act as though they are in the judgment-seat, saying things like "He ought to die because He made Himself the Son of God" (19:7). When faced with a choice of releasing a "son of the Father," they release an insurrectionist. When faced with acknowledging their king on the stone pavement, they cry out, "We have no King but Caesar!" (19:15). When faced with a choice of remaining clean and eating the Passover or defiling themselves by crucifying the Lamb of God, they shout, "Away with Him, away with Him! Crucify Him!" (19:15). The rulers of Israel think the Son of God ought to die, even though there truly was no guilt found in Him. They think they're purging leaven from their house in preparation for Passover, but what they're actually doing is leavening another lump. They think they're preparing for the angel of Yahweh to pass over their house, but what they're actually doing is preparing the blood of the Lamb to be spread upon the doorposts of new "house" prepared by His Father, a house made of disciples of Jesus, filled with the Spirit of God and fed with the flesh and blood of Jesus, fed with true meat and drink indeed.

Yahweh's Chosen Servant: Matt. 12:15-21 (section D3)

Continuing where I left off in this series of Matthew's Gospel, we come now to the final section in the center of the larger narrative structure. This section (Matt. 12:15-21, section D3) reads as follows:

Jesus, aware of this, withdrew from there. And many followed him, and he healed them all and ordered them not to make him known. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: "Behold, my servant whom I have chosen,
 my beloved with whom my soul is well pleased.
 I will put my Spirit upon him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. He will not quarrel or cry aloud, 
nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets; a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench,
 until he brings justice to victory; and in his name the nations will hope."

As mentioned in an earlier post, chapters 11-12 form one unit, and that unit centers on the theme of rest for the people of God. In chapters 1-4 we learn about the beginnings, birth, and exodus of the Son of God, but at the same time we learn that Jesus is really fulfilling the beginnings, birth, and exodus of Israel, God's "firstborn son". In chapters 5-7, after passing through the waters of baptism and entering into the wilderness, we find Jesus, as a new and greater Moses, ascending a mountain to give the people of Israel the Law. Afterward, in chapters 8-9, Jesus descends from the mountain to heal the people of Israel as many times as Israel fell in the wilderness (i.e. ten times; cf. Num. 14:22), and in Mosaic fashion we find Israel wandering in that wilderness like "sheep without a shepherd" (9:36; cf. Num. 27:17), whose burdens are carried by a greater Joshua. After that, in chapter 10, we find Jesus, the greater Joshua, commissioning and resting His authority upon 12 apostles, instructing and sending them into the land in preparation for future conquest. Finally, having reached chapters 11-12, Jesus and his disciples travel into the land, pronouncing woe after woe for the inhabitants who hate God, but also promising rest for those who put their trust in Him. It is in the very center of all this that we see the rise of Israel's Servant-King, Jesus.

When we looked at the rest of chapters 11-12 in detail, I pointed out that Jesus travels on the day of rest --the Sabbath-- to the synagogue of the Pharisees who are hostile to the gospel of His kingdom. After being harassed outside their synagogue, we then looked at His entrance into their synagogue, and there we found the Pharisees conspiring to destroy Him because He healed a man on the Sabbath, which was contrary to the traditions that held them in power. After that we arrive to the narrative before us. We arrive at a point when Jesus, aware of his enemies' plot to destroy Him, withdraws from their synagogue. It is at this point when we learn that "many followed Him, and he healed them all and ordered them not to make them known." It seems that in context the "many" who followed Jesus came from the synagogue of the Pharisees. In other words, when faced with a choice to follow Jesus (who bears the burdens of Israel) or the Pharisees (who lay heavy burdens on them, Matt. 23:4), many Jews openly choose Jesus over the Pharisees. Like Jairus, the ruler of the synagogue (Matt. 9:18-26; Mk. 5:22; Lk. 8:41), the people within the synagogue of the Pharisees are beginning to recognize that Jesus' yoke is easy, his burden is light, and he's even willing to carry it along with them, whereas the Pharisees weren't willing to carry Israel's burdens at all (Matt. 23:4).

In chapters 11-12 we also find Jesus as a greater David, protecting the borders of Israel and providing rest for those who are perishing from the harassment of God's enemies. But during this time of rest we find out for the first time in Matthew's Gospel that the established rulers of Israel don't want the rest Jesus has to offer; instead they seek to put Him to rest, to harass, trap, and cause Him to perish. However, like we find in the rise of the Davidic kingdom, opposition to the King doesn't keep the gospel of the kingdom from advancing. That is because Yahweh sent His Son into the world to inherit the world as a kingdom for Himself. He was sent to die for the world so that a new world --a new Israel united to Him-- would resurrect with Him. Yahweh's purpose in sending His Son was to save the world, not to destroy it, and by saving it the increase of His kingdom, power, and glory on earth shall have no end. In this section of Matthew's Gospel, Jesus even receives a taste of what it will be like for the future nations to hope in Him. Even when Jesus withdraws from the synagogue of His enemies, whom we now knows are conspiring to destroy Him (Matt. 12:14), an exodus of many more disciples follows in His train. Instead of opposition from the world diminishing His Kingdom, His enemies bring Him even more attention and popularity.

After this Sabbath exodus Jesus does something else, only this time what he does is not entirely unheard of. This time He orders His new disciples not to make Him known, just as He did earlier with the two blind men who followed Jesus from Jairus' house (Matt. 9:30-31). But why do this? Why not tell all of Israel that their King has come, and that the increase of His kingdom shall have no end? (After all, Jesus is King whether the rulers of the land like Him or not.) 

The answer to this has something to do with Matthew's reference to Isaiah 42:1-4, and the fact that, as the King, He is on a mission to bring justice and victory to the nations. Because it would be in His name that the nations of the world would hope, He did not come to contend his regal authority. Instead He came to assert His regal authority by modeling what truly Godly authority looks like. He came as the King to save the perishing sheep of the house of Israel (Matt. 10:6; 15:24), but He didn't come quarreling and making all kinds of commotion in the streets, as Isaiah says. He came to model faithful and compassionate service to the house of Israel (Matt. 9:36). For those Israelites who might have expected His voice to be heard in the streets like they did with John the Baptist, the message of Isaiah as quoted describes the character of His ministry well. He didn't come, bearing the burdens of Israel, healing withered hearts and hands as a form of self-aggrandizement. He came to take Israel's illnesses and diseases and carry them upon Himself because the people were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd, no longer being able to bear the weight of the burden placed upon them by the scribes and Pharisees (Matt. 8:17; 9:36).

When the Pharisees opposed Jesus, attempting to trap and destroy Him, Jesus also doesn't fight back the way we might expect Him to. Instead we find a humble Servant who is willing to lay down His life for His sheep. We find a gentle Servant who won't even break a bruised reed in His way (Matt. 11:29). Even at the point when the Pharisees fan the flame of controversy in their synagogue, Jesus makes no attempt to quench that flame either. Instead we find Jesus withdrawing from there, letting the fires which they started continue to smolder. This is because Jesus knows what the Father has in store for Him. He knows the great commission which His heavenly Father has sent Him to perform. Yahweh's Spirit is upon Him, and He will proclaim justice to the nations --the justice of reconciling the world to God-- until He brings justice to victory; and in His name the nations will hope. 

Faith is not resignation

In his commentary on 1-2 Kings, Peter Leithart provides some very helpful pastoral insights concerning the prophecy of Ahijah against Jeroboam’s son in 1 Kings 14. He writes:

Faith is often confused with resignation. The prophetic word comes, cutting like a double-edged sword, and we respond with tight-lipped silence. This is not faith. Faith responds to God’s word, not with silent submission, but with confession, praise, earnest and anguished petition. Faith responds with the desperate cries of a Job, the “my God, my God” of David and Jesus, the “how long, O Lord?” of the Psalms. God’s word is not the end of a conversation, but an invitation to renew conversation. God does not judge and condemn to send us slinking away in resigned silence. God judges and condemns so that we can give our “amen” to his judgment, humble ourselves, and be saved. Ultimately, the issues go to theology proper: the Triune God, the God whose life is an eternal conversation, does not create a world as a stage where he performs soliloquies before a respectfully hushed audience. God creates the world and humanity to enter into a dialogue. Ahijah delivers a devastating oracle to Jeroboam, but that is an invitation to repentance, as is Elijah’s oracle to Ahab (1 Kgs. 21). The text gives us a hint, if only a hint, that the end is not set out by the beginning, that there is yet hope for Israel.

Commenting on the way passages like this speak to Christians today, he concludes:

Jesus’s death, unlike the death of Jeroboam’s good son, does not spell the end of things, but the beginning of things, because Jesus’s death is followed by his resurrection. Jesus’s death is not an inverted Passover that leads to destruction, but a true Passover that liberates the people of God. Through Jesus, the guilt that plagues us from the past is forgiven, and through forgiveness and the renewing power of the Spirit the world is opened—Israel is opened—to a future for which none had dared to hope. This simply is the gospel, the good news that ends are not straight-line extrapolations from beginnings; this is the gospel, that the end reverses the beginning, as tears are washed away, the curse removed, the dead raised. The world is not condemned by its beginnings to a certain ending, for there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

That is the gospel we celebrate at the Lord’s Table: this is the blood of the new covenant, Jesus says, which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins. At the table, we are renewed in covenant, freshly forgiven, so that the past can be put behind us. At the table, we celebrate the opening of a new future, for Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us.2

1.  Leithart, P. J. (2006). 1 & 2 Kings (p. 107). Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press.

2.  Ibid., p. 109

Trinitarian Emperor

In 1 Kings 1-10 Solomon is set up to be a great ruler in the land, a greater Joseph whom Yahweh raises up to glorify His name in all the earth so long as he remains loyal to Yahweh. Solomon receives great wisdom as requested, and with that wisdom he expands his dominion, glorifying Yahweh. But by the end of chapter ten and the beginning of chapter eleven, when Solomon is much older, we see that glory fading as history repeats itself. Instead of Solomon remaining the greater Joseph, he becomes a greater Pharaoh who knew not Yahweh, forsaking His commands and His wisdom (Deut. 17:14-20). 

Solomon's fall is described in a triadic fashion, breaking three express commands of Yahweh in a row. He begins by multiplying gold and silver unto himself, as the wisdom of Yahweh had forbidden (Deut. 17:17). He multiplies so much gold for himself that silver devalues greatly in comparison (10:21), and this is quite a feat considering that year after year he received silver in abundance as well (10:22, 25, 27, 29). But Solomon doesn't stop with precious metals. He then moves on to multiply horses and chariots for himself as well (10:26), which was explicitly forbidden by Yahweh in the Torah (Deut. 17:16). By multiplying horses and chariots for his kingdom, a standing army of the kingdom was in the making along with the rise of Solomonic imperialism, even though the Torah nowhere allows Israel to build or keep a standing army. The further Israel would stray from Yahweh's wisdom, the more likely a standing army would be used offensively and tyrannically, policing other nations, instead of minding one's own business (or, I should say, minding Yahweh's business). An imperialism which forsakes Yahweh as its Emperor is the worst form of imperialism, conquering by warfare and bloodshed instead of wisdom and industry. Yahweh's Law taught that warfare and bloodshed are acceptable primarily a means of self-defense and ought to be considered a last resort after terms of peace are offered (Deut. 20). But when Solomon builds the empire and forsakes Yahweh, we can expect future generations of warfare and bloodshed to ensue. And that is what we find scattered throughout first and second Kings.

Not only does Solomon's imperialism rise from these two excesses forbidden by God, he goes one step further --a third step-- by multiplying wives unto himself as forbidden by Yahweh (Deut. 17:17), many of whom were foreigners and strangers to Yahweh's covenant. 

After completing this triad of forsaking Yahweh, Solomon is described for the first time in a negative light, as doing what is evil in the sight of Yahweh, which is a description that follows all of the idolatrous kings over future Israel. Solomon is even indicted for leading God's people into another triad of idolatry by "worshipping Ashtereth the goddess of the Zidonians, Chemosh the god of the Moabites, and Milcom the god of the children of Ammon" (1 Kng. 11:33). This indictment for betraying the Word of the Lord is also portrayed in a triadic fashion, as not walking in Yahweh's ways, not doing what is right in Yahweh's sight, and not keeping Yahweh's statutes and Judgments as did David his father (1 Kng. 11:33). Last of all, we are told that this triadic description of triadic idolatry leads Israel into a third and final triad of Yahweh's judgment. Yahweh "stirs up an adversary unto Solomon, Hadad the Edomite" (v. 14), and "another adversary, Rezon the son of Eliadah... an adversary to Israel all the days of Solomon" (v. 23-25),  "and Jereboam the son of Nebat," Solomon's servant and ruler over all the house of Joseph (v. 26-28).

At the end of Solomon's life we learn that he reigned over Jerusalem for forty years (v. 42), which is, providentially, a number repeated throughout Scripture as a time of testing from Yahweh. By allowing Solomon to reign for forty years, we learn something great about Yahweh's providential reign over history. First we learn that He tests even the wisest of men over time. Second, we learn   that sometimes it takes the wisest of men to make the most foolish decisions. Third, we learn the wisdom of waiting upon the Lord. By studying 1 Kings 1-11, we wait with anticipation to learn if Solomon in all of his wisdom would maintain the greater wisdom of Yahweh, the greater wisdom that once, long before Israel was even a people, blessed and prospered the kingdom of Joseph along with the seed of Abraham. 

By turning away from Yahweh, His word, and His Spirit, our anticipation of a great and glorious empire is met at the end of the story with a trinity of curses that fall upon the house of Israel, essentially dividing the kingdom against itself, causing it to falling down not long thereafter. By turning after the idols of land, our anticipation of Solomon's own greatness, too, is met in spades. He becomes exceedingly great in what we see him worshiping: a false god, a idolatrous leader, and a Pharaoh under which Israel would need a great exodus. Only by turning back to Yahweh in faithful obedience would a trinity of blessing for Israel result. But as we learn from the following chapters in the book of Kings, no one turns back to Yahweh without His gracious provision of a King after his own heart, who rules according to His Word and Spirit. We learn that only a trinitarian Emperor can save an empire from a trinity of false leaders, false worship, and false hope.