Tag: parables

You are that man! (2 Sam 11–12; Pentecost 11B)

Last Sunday we heard the story of David’s adultery with Bathsheba (2 Sam 11:1–15). It’s a story that has been known and remembered through the ages—although it has often been badly misinterpreted, in explanations that “blame the woman” for what, in the text, is clearly a series of actions undertaken explicitly by the man who has power, the man who decides to “take” the woman.

As we have seen in previous blogs, the person who emerges with most integrity from the story of David’s adultery and murder is Bathsheba. In the custom of the day, she had no choice but to obey the King and allow him to “lie with her” and make her pregnant (11:4–5). Bathsheba fittingly mourns for her husband (11:26). She will remain faithful to David, as king, over the years, as well as to her child, Solomon, who later becomes king (from 2 Sam 11:27 through until 1 Kings 2).

David, by contrast, continues his unseemly behaviour. In the passage that we hear this Sunday (2 Sam 11:26—12:13), the prophet Nathan regales him with a tale of a rich man with “very many flocks and herds” and a poor man with “nothing but one little ewe lamb” who was much loved and was “like a daughter to him” (12:1–3). Nathan’s story ends with a powerful punchline: “he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him” (12:4). The point is clear; the rich man has acted unjustly.

David immediately erupts in anger at the selfish acts of the rich man. “As the Lord lives”, he exclaims, “the man who has done this deserves to die” (12:5). As was to be expected of the king—who was execute justice in Israel (Ps 72:1; 99:4; 1 Ki 10:9)—punishment for this selfish deed was rightly to be implemented.

What provoked this strong response? The prophet has told the king a story which cut right to his heart. We recognise this story as a parable, perhaps the best-known of all parables in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus, we know, used parables as the chief means of his story-telling. A parable is a story told in a specific way, often to make a single clear point. Parables are conundrums. They contain unresolved tensions. They invite multiple understandings. They press for exploration and investigation.

The parable form used by Jesus has deep roots in Hebrew traditions. In Hebrew Scripture, there are examples of the short, sharp, pithy parables, often identified as a ḥidah, or riddle. A classic short, simple riddle is that spoken by Samson, “out of the eater came something to eat; out of the strong came something sweet” (Judg 14:14). The narrative comment that follows is delightful: “for three days they could not explain the riddle”!

Another example is the proverb quoted by two prophets, about the impact of the Exile: “the parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge” (Jer 31:29; Ezek 18:2). The point of this saying is clear and telling. Likewise, the point is conveyed directly when Hosea laments the rebellion of the people, describing them as “like a dove, silly and without sense”, and noting how the Lord will discipline them; “I will cast my net over them; I will bring them down like birds of the air” (Hos 7:11–12).

This is the classic form of a comparison, a mashal, in which one item is compared with another item. A parable, at its heart, is a comparison: “this is like that”.

There are also more extended parables, with multiple characters and an extended storyline, such as in the parable that Nathan tells David in 2 Sam 12. Often, the simple comparison that is intended is developed into an allegorical tale. In an allegory, particular individual features can play an independently figurative role, so that the story told becomes a kind of riddle which invites a response from the listener. “What do you think?” becomes the implied way that the allegory-riddle ends. Listening to the story is not enough—the listener needs to engage, enter the conundrum, make up their mind!

In Hebrew Scripture, the allegory of the Eagles and the Vine (Ezek 17:3–10) is described as both ḥidah (“riddle”) and mashal. The parable first describes “a great eagle, with great wings and long pinions”, who carried seed far away where it took root and became a vine (a classic symbol of Israel). It then offers a further description of “another great eagle, with great wings and much plumage”, which the teller of the parable fears may seek to uproot the vine. “When it is transplanted, will it thrive”, the parable ends (v.10)—will Israel, transplanted into exile, manage to survive that experience?

Further parable-riddles occur in subsequent chapters in Ezekiel. There is the Lamenting of the Lioness (Ezek 19:2–9) and the Transplanted Vine (Ezek 19:10–14), and the stories of the Harlot Sisters (ibid. 23:2–21). There is also one of my favourites, the very vivid—and gruesome—parable of the Cooking-Pot (Ezek 24:3b—5).

In this parable, the prophet warns the people of judgement: “set on the pot … pour in water … put in the pieces, the thigh and the shoulder … fill it with choice bones” (that is, the meat and bones of the Israelites being punished). The prophet concludes with a booming denunciation: “woe to the bloody city … the blood is shed inside it … to rouse my wrath, I have placed the blood she shed on on a bare rock” (Ezek 24:6–8, and then the metaphor extended still further in 24:9–14).

Each of these parables are clearly allegorical, in that the overall point is clear, and yet also the details in the story invite connection with specific people or events. Ezekiel is a powerful speaker, who utilises this dramatic story-form with great flair, and effect. So, too, is Nathan, in the passage we hear this Sunday; the simple comparison is advanced through the story, in which various elements correlate with the situation involving David and Bathsheba.

For more on parables, see the links at the end of this post.

Nathan’s confronting story cuts to the heart of David. As the prophet declares, the king has acted in exactly the way that the man in the story has acted. He is privileged and well-to-do, and yet he seeks more through his selfish actions; there is pure evil in what he has done. Nathan berates David at length (2 Sam 12:7–10), climaxing with the warning of the Lord, “I will raise up trouble against you from within your own house” (12:11–12).

So David retreats from his anger and backs down in repentance: “I have sinned against the Lord”, he says to Nathan, who then reassures him, “now the Lord has put away your sin; you shall not die” (12:13). Nathan has executed his prophetic role with power: he speaks forth the word of the Lord into the immediate situation, calling David to account. At least the king recognises his sin and repents. God both punishes and forgives him.

Writing in With Love to the World, Sarah Williamson characterises this as “a classic revenge tale”. She notes that “David has ruined a family by killing Uriah and taking Bathsheba as his wife” and that “the prophet Nathan helps David see what he has done and as he comes to face his actions, he is told that his first born child will suffer the consequences.”

“This reflects the punitive nature of ancient Israelite thinking”, Sarah writes; and yet, “it is possible to understand this story with a different angle”. She explains: “It shows that, even though we may be ‘forgiven’, as was David for his actions, so our choices are not without consequence.”

This then raises questions to consider: “Could God deliberately harm a child for the actions of a parent? What sort of understanding do we have about the forgiveness of God? Is forgiveness free or does a price need to be paid?” Her reflection is that “our poor judgments can have a generational power; that which the parents do can affect the children and generations to come”.

And so she concludes that this reading may be “an invitation to reflect on our own theology of forgiveness and the consequences of our actions. Perhaps we may invite the notion of grace into this space and ask, what sort of a God do I see in this story, and how does it fit with my own faith?”

With Love to the World is a daily Bible reading resource, written and produced within the Uniting Church in Australia, following the Revised Common Lectionary. It offers Sunday worshippers the opportunity to prepare for hearing passages of scripture in the week leading to that day of worship. It seeks to foster “an informed faith” amongst the people of God.

You can subscribe on your phone or iPad via an App, for a subscription of $28 per year. Search for With Love to the World on the App Store, or UCA—With Love to the World on Google Play. For the hard copy resource, for just $28 for a year’s subscription, email Trevor at wlwuca@bigpond.com or phone +61 (2) 9747-1369.

The Jewish Virtual Library article on “Parable” can be found at https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/parable

For further reading on parables in the rabbinic tradition, see

Click to access rabinnic-parables.pdf

https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/11898-parable

https://www.jerusalemperspective.com/2721/

See also

Bathsheba: “she was very beautiful” (2 Sam 11; Pentecost 10B)
David: “bring her to me, set him in the front of the fighting” (2 Sam 11; Pentecost 10B)

The kingdom, God’s justice, an invitation to all (Mark 4; Pentecost 4B)

In following the Revised Common Lectionary, we’ve just returned to passages from the beginning of the good news of Jesus, chosen one, after many months away in other gospel accounts of Jesus and his activity. See https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/19/1-where-has-mark-gone/

The work we know as “the Gospel according to Mark” is the shortest and earliest of the extant accounts that we have. It is a story-telling narrative, moving from one incident to the next in short order. It’s a dramatic and vivid account. See https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/20/2-mark-collector-of-stories-author-of-the-passion-narrative/

It’s fitting, therefore, that we hear today two of the really short stories that Jesus told. We know these short stories as parables. There is the parable of seed, scattered in the ground, that grows of its own accord (Mark 4:26–29). Then there’s the parable of the smallest seed that grows to a large shrub (4:30–32). These two short stories each reveal something about the way that God wants things to be, the kingdom of God. Such parables were typical of the way that Jesus taught his followers (4:33–34).

Parables were quite widespread in the society of Jesus’ day. They were evocative and effective means for telling stories. The most common means of entertainment in the ancient world was telling stories. This was done by word of mouth, from one person to another, or in small groups gathered in market places, courtyards or houses. Education also relied on the voice. Children were taught by word of mouth. Adults also learned by listening, discussing, debating.

Written materials were costly and only a small percentage of the population was literate. The natural tendency to tell stories was widely accepted in Jewish society, so that the most familiar pattern was that learning took place through the passing on of stories. So oral story telling was commonplace in the synagogues where Jews gathered for worship and instruction.

We can see the dominance of the oral medium most clearly in the literature which tells about the rabbis of Judaism. The story was the foundational building block for all the rabbis’ teaching activities. Beyond Judaism, we see it in the popularity of written biographies, romances, histories and adventure stories, throughout the ancient world.

Indeed, a second century Christian (Papias, the Bishop of Hierapolis) is reported as having stated that stories spoken by teachers are to be preferred as more reliable than written works (such as the Gospels)—an attitude that sounds incredible to our modern ears! See https://johntsquires.com/2020/10/15/what-do-we-know-about-who-wrote-the-new-testament-gospels-2/

A parable is an important type of story-telling. A parable is a story told in a specific way to make a single clear point. Parables are found in Jewish literature; the most famous examples in the Hebrew Bible are Samuel’s parable comparing David with a callous rich herdsman in 2 Samuel 12 and the prophet’s parable comparing Israel with an unfruitful vineyard in Isaiah 5.

Rabbis at the time of Jesus, and later, have used parables to make their point in their teachings. The Hebrew word for this form was mashal, a word meaning “to be like” or “a comparison”. Parables were told to make a point about something that may not be easily understood, by drawing a comparison with something else that was well-known or easily understood.

The mashal also opens up the possibility of a more developed form of comparison, the similitude, of which the best example is Nathan’s parable to David concerning the stolen lamb (2 Sam 12:1–4). This form flourishes in later Judaism, both in rabbinic literature, and in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ parables (“the kingdom of heaven is like…”). In fact, the parables told by Jesus follow the patterns and customs of the rabbinic mashal.

Both the parable of the seed growing in secret (4:26–29) and the parable of the mustard seed (4:30–32) are examples of a simple parable with a short plot development. The first parable moves quickly to the key point, when the farmer “goes in with the sickle, for the harvest has come”.

Judgement is integral to the message that Jesus preached. His vision of the kingdom involves standards that God imposes and that God judges. The seeds growing in secret will face this reckoning at the harvest. Our lives of discipleship will be measured by the righteous-justice of God that Jesus proclaimed. The harvest was an image of divine judgement for some of the prophets (Hosea 6:1–11, 8:1–10; Joel 3:9–16; and see Ps 126:1–6; Prov 22:8).

The second parable has a similar focus on the climax: “it becomes the greatest of shrubs”. The mustard seed grown into a shrub with branches in which the birds nest, indicates the inclusivity that is offered in the kingdom. It seems that Jesus May have been referencing the oracle of Ezekiel, about a sprig of cedar that grows so big that “under the shade of its branches birds of every sort will nest” (Ezek 17:22–24).

Measured by the standards of the righteous-justice of God, the kingdom is open to those who adhere to this measure, regardless of their status or origins. This was the message of Jesus, offering hope to all who followed in his way.

This pair of parables contain two key elements of the message of Jesus: justice, and inclusivity. We find these themes in the stories told and the guidance taught by Jesus throughout his ministry. The parables convey these messages in short, sharp, dramatic style.

The stone that the builders rejected (Mark 12; Narrative Lectionary for Lent 3)

The parable of Jesus which is set in this Sunday’s lectionary appears to offer an invitation to adopt a negative approach towards Jews and Judaism. The author of “the good news of Jesus, chosen one” (by tradition, the evangelist Mark) interpreted this story as a polemic against the Jewish authorities who had gathered to hear Jesus teach (Mark 11:27).

As Jesus concludes his parable with a typical rabbinic scripture citation, designed to drive the point home with deep authority (Mark 12:10–11, citing Ps 118:22–23), the narrator comments, “when they realized that he had told this parable against them, they wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowd; so they left him and went away” (Mark 12:12).

Often in Christian history, that negative portrayal of the Jewish authorities of the first century has been used as the basis for a direct attack on Jews of later times. That’s a very poor line of interpretation that we should ensure we do not follow.

The parable that Jesus tells is set in a vineyard. That’s an age-old symbol for the people of Israel. We can see this most clearly in passages of Hebrew Scripture such as Isaiah 5:1–7 and Psalm 80:7–15; they show how old and enduring this imagery was.

The parable that Jesus tells recounts the hard-hearted way in which the tenants in the vineyard (a traditional symbol for the people of Israel) reject the messengers sent to them by the landowner (seen as a symbol for God), culminating in the atrocious treatment meted out to the landowner’s son (whom we are meant to identify as Jesus, son of God).

The son is put to death. The punchline that Jesus crafts for this parable is potent: the owner of the vineyard “will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others” (vv.8–9). In Matthew’s parallel version of this parable, Jesus extends this ending to include the clear statement that “those who do not produce the fruits of the kingdom will not inherit the kingdom” (Matt 21:43).

The parable of the vineyard is one of the passages that has been difficult for us to understand accurately. When taken at a literal level, it has led to modern interpretations that are as damaging as they are unfair. The assumption is that the Pharisees and scribes are the ‘bad guys’, and this has led to the belief that Pharisee equals hypocrite. It is disturbing that such a stereotype has found its way into the language of our modern church.

The context of the parable suggests that although its message was aimed at the chief priests and the Pharisees, it does not exclude other Jewish people. The parable is told in one of a number of encounters between Jesus and Jewish leaders (11:27—12:44). Was this a consistent attitude of Jesus?

Equally disturbing is the notion that Jesus here seems to contradict his own teaching about loving one’s enemy and turning the other cheek. He depicts God as the avenging Lord. So what is really happening here?

I don’t think the parable of Jesus is intended to be simply an anti-Jewish polemic, an invitation to deride or dismiss Judaism and Jews.

It is true that, in the Gospel of Matthew, we find Jesus making some strident accusations and engaging in some vigorous debate with the Jewish authorities. But does he really believe that no faithful Jew will ever again enter the kingdom of heaven?

Judaism was in a state of flux as people lived under the continuing oppression of Roman rule. The destruction of the Temple in 70 CE was a pivotal moment. Evidence indicates that, during this time, there were various sectarian groups within Judaism who were contesting with each other for recognition and influence. Instead of making common cause against Rome, they continued to fight each other. Vigorous polemic and robust debate amongst Jews were not uncommon. See

“Go nowhere among the Gentiles” (Matt 10:5): the mission of Jesus in the book of origins (Pentecost 3A)

During this period, the Pharisees were becoming increasingly important as an alternative to the Temple cult, and emerging as the dominant Jewish religious movement. Their power base was moved from Jerusalem and spread throughout the area. When the Temple was destroyed, they moved into the vacuum that was created, and became even more dominant.

(From this time on, Pharisees evolved into the “Rabbis”, and they developed the kind of Judaism that became dominant through to the present time. We need to be sensitized to the fact that, for many modern Jews, when we make damning criticisms of the Pharisees, they hear that as a criticism of their Rabbis, and, by extension, of the faith that they practise today.)

The kind of debates that we see in the Gospels—debates where Jesus goes head-on with the Pharisees—need to be understood in this context. Jesus was not “cutting the cord” of his connection with Judaism. He was not rejecting his faith as irrelevant or obsolete.

He was advocating, vigorously and persistently, for the kind of faith that he firmly believed in—and criticisng the Pharisees for their failure, in his eyes, to adhere to all that they taught. He wanted to renew Israel, to refresh the covenant, as the prophets before him had done.

And let’s remember that the accounts that we have of these debates come from years later than when they actually occurred; years that had been strongly shaped by the polemic and antagonism of the intervening decades.

Older academic Christian scholarship and popular evangelical Christian tradition perpetuate the stereotype that the Judaism of the time of Jesus was a harsh, legalistic, rigid religion—a stereotype heightened by an unquestioning acceptance of the New Testament caricature of the Pharisees as hypocritical legalists who made heavy demands but had no soul commitment to their faith. It was claimed that they were the leaders of a static, dying religion.

This stereotype has been completely demolished in recent decades—both through the growing interaction between Christian and Jewish scholarship, and also through a more critical reading of the relevant primary texts. I am very pleased that the church to which I belong, the Uniting Church in Australia, has made it very clear that we do not adhere to these inaccurate and hurtful stereotypes.

In 2009, the UCA national Assembly adopted a Statement which says, amongst other things:

The Uniting Church does not accept Christian teaching that is derogatory towards Jews and Judaism; a belief that God has abolished the covenant with the Jewish people;  supersessionism, the belief that Christians have replaced Jews in the love and purpose of God; and forms of relationships with Jews that require them to become Christian, including coercion and manipulation, that violate their humanity, dignity and freedom.

We do not accept these things.

See https://www.jcrelations.net/article/jews-and-judaism.pdf

Indeed, when we look to Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus does nothing to overturn the Law or to encourage his followers to disregard the Law; he is portrayed as a Jew who keeps Torah to the full. “I have come, not to destroy, but to fulfil the Law”, he says (5:17). See

You have heard it said … but I say to you … (Matt 5; Epiphany 6A)

And in that same section of the Gospel, Jesus is quoted as advocating for a better righteous-justice; a righteous-justice that “exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees” (5:20). See

An excess of righteous-justice (Matt 5; Epiphany 5A)

Virtually all of his criticisms of the Pharisees in the Synoptic Gospels can be understood within the framework of first century debates over the meaning and application of Law. The memory of Jesus is as a Torah-abiding Jew, who nevertheless stakes out a distinctive position within the context of those contemporary debates.

We should not interpret the parable of Jesus in Mark 12 as an outright condemnation of Judaism as a whole. As he debates the Jewish leadership of his day, he makes strong statements. But let’s not claim that Jesus validates any sense of anti-Jewish or antisemitic attitude.

Unfortunately, these words of Jesus and other parts of the New Testament story have been used throughout the centuries to validate anti-Jewish attitudes, to foster antisemitic hatred of the Jews. It is important for us to remember the real sense of the words of Jesus, and not follow the pathway to bigotry, hatred, persecution, and tragic attempts to annihilate the Jews.

Parables of Jesus in Mark 4 (Narrative Lectionary)

Jesus used parables as the chief means of his story-telling. A parable is a story told in a specific way, often to make a single clear point. Parables are conundrums. They contain unresolved tensions. They invite multiple understandings. They press for exploration and investigation. We have a few parables in the Gospel reading for this coming Sunday!

The accounts of Jesus that we have in scripture—Mark’s “beginning of the good news of Jesus”, Matthew’s “book of origins of Jesus, Chosen One”, and Luke’s “orderly account of the things fulfilled”—each contain a number of parables. Even in John’s “book of signs”, there are some parable-like sections, buried in the midst of the long discourses that this book contains.

In the section of Mark’s “beginning of the good news of Jesus” that the narrative lectionary offers for this week (Mark 4:1–34), we begin with a parable (4:1–9), followed immediately by an “interpretation” of the parable (4:1–20). For years, I followed the line (and taught my students) that this later allegorising understanding of the parable has been placed on the lips of Jesus, in this Gospel account. In this understanding, the interpretation really treats the parable as an allegory, rather than as a simple parable.

In an allegory, each and every character and event in the story is regarded as being a symbol for something else beyond the story. Allegory literally means, “to say something other”; it comes from two Greek words, the verb agoreuo (to speak in the assembly), and the prefix allos (other). Allegories are found in ancient literature; in Greek, from the earliest literature, that of Homer, through to Plato, and on into the writings of people centuries after the time of Jesus. They were commonplace across Greek and Latin literature.

However, in more recent times, I have come to see parables differently—especially in light of how they were seen and used in Judaism. The idea that the allegorising interpretation was a later addition, beyond the time of Jesus, has held sway for a number of decades in critical biblical scholarship. Christian scholars are dubious about whether Jesus would have utilise this somewhat hellenised approach to stories. (We know that allegories were in evidence centuries before Jesus in Greek literature. Whether Jesus knew this long tradition is debated.)

This critical Christian perspective on parables overlooks the claim that Judaism, and the long stream of Jewish tellers of parables, have on such stories. Parables are found, in Jewish literature, in various forms. With that information, we might well come to the text of Mark 4 with a different set of questions. How do we hear these parables of Jesus? In what sense do they reveal “the secret of the kingdom of God”? (Mark 4:11). Do they remain to us words which we may well “listen, but not understand”? (4:12, quoting Isa 6:10).

How do we undertake the task that Jesus instructs of his disciples at the start (“listen!”, 4:3) and at the end of this section (“let anyone with ears to hear listen!” (4:21), which he then undergirds with a final saying, “pay attention to what you hear” (4:22). Will we be able to respond to the question of Jesus, “do you not understand this parable?” (4:13) with a resounding “of course we do!”? Or will we remain, as the disciples did, hard of hearing and lacking in understanding (see 6:52; 7:14, 18; 8:17, 21; 9:32). The task of interpretation in this passage is daunting indeed!

*****

Parables are found in various places in Hebrew Scripture. There is, for a start, a brief introductory announcement (“listen!”) and a single image which is used to describe a characteristic of the kingdom (a sower sowing seeds). The first part of this week’s parable (4:3) has this form. It is short and direct.

The parable then tells of the sowing of seeds onto a variety of surfaces, which gives the story plot development of a kind. In this regard, this is like other parables of Jesus, which are a little more developed; they still make a single point, but it is developed or explained a little more. What do these ground surfaces represent? What do we make of the actions of the sower?—they seem somewhat profligate, sowing on hard ground! So the questions are raised … and the listeners ponder, and consider their responses …

The development that occurs in the plot of this parable, and the subsequent allegorical interpretation, might well relate to the fact that the Hebrew Scriptures also contain parables with developed plots and allegorical elements. In an allegory, particular individual features can play an independently figurative role, so that the story told becomes a kind of riddle which invites a response from the listener. “What do you think?” becomes the implied way that the allegory-riddle ends. Listening to the story is not enough—the listener needs to engage, enter the conundrum, make up their mind!

What do you think, then, about the sower who sowed seed on four different types of ground. A symbol of the lavish generosity of God? A farmer who wasn’t really thinking sensibly? A pointer to the need to receive the seed, ground it deep, and nurture it, so that it will flourish? A warning about “the wiles of the devil” who waits to choke the growing plant? The possibilities are endless … … …

In like fashion, what do we make of the short,sharp parables in the latter part of this passage? The seed growing secretly seems to be a set-up,for some of the typical eschatological teaching that Jesus gave (“when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come”, 4:29).

And what do we make of the even shorter parable about the mustard seed? This tiny seed grows into a large shrub with large branches, such that “the birds of the air can make nests in its shade” (4:32). Is this, as is often suggested, a subtle indication of the worldwide spread of the good news of the kingdom? (The prophetic parable of the lofty cedar is often cited in this regard; see Ezek 31:2–9, esp. v.6 regarding the birds).

A classic short, simple riddle in Hebrew scripture is that spoken by Samson, “out of the eater came something to eat; out of the strong came something sweet” (Judg 14:14). The narrative comment that follows is delightful: “for three days they could not explain the riddle”! Another example is the proverb quoted by two prophets, about the impact of the Exile: “the parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge” (Jer 31:29; Ezek 18:2). The point of this saying is clear, and telling.

In Hebrew Scripture, the allegory of the Eagles and the Vine (Ezek 17:3–10) is described as both ḥidah (“riddle”) and mashal. The parable first describes “a great eagle, with great wings and long pinions”, who carried seed far away where it took root and became a vine (a classic symbol of Israel). It then offers a further description of “another great eagle, with great wings and much plumage”, which the teller of the parable fears may seek to uproot the vine. “When it is transplanted, will it thrive”, the parable ends (v.10)—will Israel, transplanted into exile, manage to survive that experience?

Further parable-riddles occur in subsequent chapters in Ezekiel. There is the Lamenting of the Lioness (Ezek 19:2–9) and the Transplanted Vine (Ezek 19:10–14), and the stories of the Harlot Sisters (ibid. 23:2–21). There is also one of my favourites, the very vivid—and gruesome—parable of the Cooking-Pot (Ezek 24:3b—5).

In this parable, the prophet warns the people of judgement: “set on the pot … pour in water … put in the pieces, the thigh and the shoulder … fill it with choice bones” (that is, the meat and bones of the Israelites being punished). The prophet concludes with a booming denunciation: “woe to the bloody city … the blood is shed inside it … to rouse my wrath, I have placed the blood she shed on on a bare rock” (Ezek 24:6–8, and then the metaphor extended still further in 24:9–14).

Each of these parables are clearly allegorical, in that the overall point is clear, and yet also the details in the story invite connection with specific people or events. Ezekiel is a powerful speaker, who utilises this dramatic story-form with great flair, and effect.

A third type of mashal is the fable, where animals or inanimate objects are made to speak and act like men. The article on “Parables” in the Jewish Virtual Library notes two good examples: Judg 9:8–15, where the trees confer as to who will become king, and 2 Ki 14:9–10, where a thornbush sends a message to a cedar, but a wild animal tramples down the thornbush. These fables can be seen to relate directly to the political situation of Israel at different times in their history.

The article on “Parable” in the Jewish Virtual Library also notes: “Mashal and ḥidah are used almost synonymously in Ezekiel 17:2; Habakkuk 2:6; Psalms 49:5 and 78:2; and Proverbs 1:6. Certain proverbs are in effect parable-riddles, e.g., Proverbs 30:15a, 15b–16, 18–19, and 21–31.

“Other biblical forms related to the parable type of mashal are: prophetic oracles where a metaphor is extended into a lively description, e.g., Isaiah 1:5–6; Hosea 2:2–15; 7:8–9, 11–12; Joel 4:13; and Jeremiah 25:15–29; prophetic oracles proclaimed through symbolic actions, e.g., I Kings 11:29; II Kings 13:15–19, and Isaiah 20:2–6; extended personifications as of Wisdom and Folly in Proverbs 1:20–33; 8:1–36; 9:1–6, 13–18; and revelatory dreams and visions having symbolism which the sequel interprets as allegorical, e.g., Genesis 37:6–11; 40:9–13, 16–19; Zechariah 1:8–11; 2:1–4; and Daniel 2:31–45.”

Beyond these many examples, there are the multitudes of parables in rabbinic literature (about which, see the further resources listed at the end of this blog).

All of which leaves us with the question: what do we make of these parables of Jesus? Have we gained insight into “the secret of the kingdom of God”? Or will we remain with the outsiders, deaf of hearing and unable to grasp the good news of what God is about to do? These questions confront us as we hear this passage, this coming Sunday.

*****

The Jewish Virtual Library article on “Parable” can be found at https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/parable

For further reading on parables in the rabbinic tradition, see

Click to access rabinnic-parables.pdf

https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/11898-parable

https://www.jerusalemperspective.com/2721/

Dark sayings from of old (Psalm 78; Pentecost 24A)

Scripture contains many sayings. Of particular note in the Hebrew Scriptures are “sayings of the wise” (Prov 24:23), offering insights into the best ways of living with integrity in daily life. The book of Proverbs refers to “thirty sayings of admonition and knowledge” (Prov 22:20), but in fact it contains a multitude of succinct two-part sayings, known as proverbs, attributed to King Solomon (Prov 10:1—29:27), Agur Ben Jakeh, a sage of Arabic descent (Prov 30:1–33), and King Lemuel, perhaps of Assyria (Masa) (Prov 31:1–9).

The Preacher, characteristically, bemoans that “the sayings of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings that are given by one shepherd” (Eccl 12:11). He notes that “of the making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh” (Eccl 12:12). He presumably sees little need for saying after saying after saying.

Nevertheless, scripture as a whole has collected and retained “treasuries of wisdom” in which there are many “sayings of the wise” (Sir 1:25), sayings which are “life to those who find them, and healing to all their flesh” (Prov 4:22). Attention to these words means that “you may hold on to prudence, and your lips may guard knowledge” (Prov 5:2).

Faithful people are advised to “keep your father’s commandment, and do not forsake your mother’s teaching; them upon your heart always; tie them around your neck” (Prov 6:20)—words which evoke the directions given to Israel concerning the Torah itself: “bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates” (Deut 6:8–9).

So the “sayings of the wise” are regularly described in some of the terms used to describe Torah: they are “commandments” (Prov 2:1; 3:1; 4:4; 7:1–2; 10:8) and “precepts” (Prov 4:2), and like the Torah itself, they provide “instruction” (Prov 1:8; 4:1, 13; 8:10, 33; 9:9; 10:17; 15:5, 32–33; 19:20, 27; 23:12, 23; 24:32). Ben Sirach links the two when he advises, “if you desire wisdom, keep the commandments, and the Lord will lavish her [i.e. Wisdom] upon you”, for “the fear of the Lord is wisdom and discipline” (Sir 1:26–27).

The people are told that, “if you accept my words and treasure up my commandments within you, making your ear attentive to wisdom and inclining your heart to understanding … then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God” (Prov 2:1–2, 5). The connection between “the fear of the Lord” and the wisdom that is conveyed by “the sayings of the wise” is manifest (Prov 1:7; 2:5; 9:10; 14:27; 15:33).

Penetrating into the wisdom contained within these sayings ought to come readily to those who are regular and persistent in listening to them; yet, as Job laments regarding God, “how small a whisper do we hear of him!”, and “the thunder of his power who can understand?” (Job 26:14). At the end of the long whirlwind speech of God, Job concedes that his knowledge of God had been quite inadequate, noting that “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you” (Job 42:5).

The introduction to the book of Proverbs recognises the difficulty of gaining clear understanding of these sayings, indicating that it takes work: “let the wise also hear and gain in learning, and the discerning acquire skill, to understand a proverb and a figure, the words of the wise and their riddles” (Prov 1:5–6).

Ben Sirach notes that “the one who devotes himself to the study of the law of the Most High” is one who “seeks out the wisdom of all the ancients, and is concerned with prophecies; he preserves the sayings of the famous and penetrates the subtleties of parables; he seeks out the hidden meanings of proverbs and is at home with the obscurities of parables” (Sir 39:1–3).

Those hidden meanings and obscurities may well be what has driven the psalmist, in the psalm offered in this coming Sunday”s lectionary psalm, to refer to “hidden things, things from of old” (Ps 78:2, NIV)—or more ominously, as the NRSV translates it, “dark sayings from of old” (Ps 78:2, NRSV). What are these hidden things, these dark sayings, from the past?

Although the psalmist refers to “the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done” in years past, recounting them with admiration and gratitude (Ps 78:5–16), they note with pathos that the people “did not keep God’s covenant … refused to walk according to his law … forgot what he had done”, that they “sinned still more against him, rebelling against the Most High in the desert … tested God in their heart … spoke against God” (Ps 78:10–11, 17–19). Understanding came hard to the people.

The psalmist places these “hidden things”, these “dark sayings from of old” in parallel with parables (Ps 78:2). The Hebrew word translated as parable is mashal, which signals a comparison; it literally means “is like”. We know about parables from the use that Jesus made of them in his teaching. “The kingdom of heaven is like …”, or “what shall I compare the kingdom of God to?” are introductions to short stories which Jesus tells, in which the realm of God is explained with reference to a familiar situation in daily life—making bread, keeping sheep, tending a vineyard, seeking work, attending a marriage.

A mashal, a parable, is simply a comparison. So in Proverbs, we can read various parables: “the path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day; but the way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know what makes them stumble” (Prov 4:18–19); “like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman who shows no discretion” (Prov 11:22); “the words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing” (Prov 12:18); “a king’s rage is like the roar of a lion, but his favour is like dew on the grass” (Prov 19:12); “like a roaring lion or a charging bear is a wicked ruler over a poor people” (Prov 28:15); and so on.

Elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures, we find comparisons—parables—that are short and succinct. A classic short, simple Another example is the proverb quoted by two prophets, about the impact of the Exile: “the parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge” (Jer 31:29; Ezek 18:2). The point of this saying is clear, and telling.

We also find more extended comparisons—parables with developed plots and allegorical elements. (In an allegory, particular individual features can play an independently figurative role, so that the story told becomes a kind of riddle which invites a response from the listener. “What do you think?” becomes the implied way that the allegory-riddle ends.) The most famous examples in the Hebrew Bible are Samuel’s story-parable comparing David with a callous rich herdsman in 2 Samuel 12 and the prophet’s lovesong-parable comparing Israel with an unfruitful vineyard in Isaiah 5.

Psalm 78:2 in Hebrew

The Hebrew word in parallel to mashal (משל, “parable”) in Ps 78:2, which is translated as “hidden things” (NIV) or “dark sayings” (NRSV), is the word chidah, חַידָה, which is most often translated as “riddle”. This word refers to a parable “whose point is deliberately obscured so that greater perception is needed to interpret it”, according to the Jewish Virtual Library (reference below). A good example is the riddle is that spoken by Samson, “out of the eater came something to eat; out of the strong came something sweet” (Judg 14:14). The narrative comment that follows is delightful: “for three days they could not explain the riddle”!

A number of proverbs are classified as riddles, especially in the section of Proverbs containing “the sayings of Agur son of Jakeh—an inspired utterance” (Prov 30:1). For instance: “There are three things that are never satisfied, four that never say, ‘Enough!’: the grave, the barren womb, land, which is never satisfied with water, and fire, which never says, ‘Enough!’” (Prov 30:15b—16). Another example comes a few verses later: ““There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand: the way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a snake on a rock, the way of a ship on the high seas, and the way of a man with a young woman” (Prov 30:18–19).

In Psalm 78, we do not seem to have specific verses that can be categorised as riddles—rather, it presents as one of the psalms which retell the saga of the origins of Israel (as well as this psalm, see also Psalms 105, 106, 135 and 136). The particular perspective of the psalmist in retelling this story in Psalm 78 is that the people “should set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments” (v.7), in the hope that “they should not be like their ancestors, a stubborn and rebellious generation, a generation whose heart was not steadfast, whose spirit was not faithful to God” (v.8). After all, God had performed many miracles in the Exodus, at the formational stage of the people of Israel (vv.12–16).

Nevertheless, the repeated sinfulness shown by Israel in the wilderness (vv.17–19) is replicated in later times; in spite of all that God did for them in the wilderness (vv.20, 23–29), “they still sinned; they did not believe in his wonders” (v.32), “their heart was not steadfast toward him; they were not true to his covenant” (v.37), “they tested God again and again, and provoked the Holy One of Israel” (v.41), thereby incurring the great wrath of God (vv.44–51).

Even when God led them to Canaan and “drove out nations before them; he apportioned them for a possession and settled the tribes of Israel in their tents” (v.56), still “they tested the Most High God and rebelled against him; they did not observe his decrees, but turned away and were faithless like their ancestors; they twisted like a treacherous bow” (vv.56–57), incurring still more punishment (vv.58–64).

The psalm ends with a picture of pastoral bliss as God favoured the tribe of Judah with the site of the temple, and David is installed as the shepherd-king of the people (vv.65–72). The conclusion is encouraging; “David shepherded them with integrity of heart; with skillful hands he led them” (v.72).

Perhaps, notwithstanding this irenic ending, this is the chidah, the riddle, the dark saying of the past? Perhaps it is about the stubborn, incorrigible nature of human beings—exemplified by Israel’s regular return to sinful ways?

Perhaps the psalm was written in the knowledge of the persistent inadequacies and sinfulness of the kings who came after David? (We might note the regular refrain about the kings who “did evil in the eyes of the Lord” throughout the narrative books, first applied to Solomon at 1 Ki 11:6 and then forming a recurring formula of condemnation of many of the kings that followed him in the northern kingdom as well as a number in the southern kingdom).

Perhaps it is that, no matter how much God did for God’s people, their persistent sinfulness would always rise to the surface? If that is so, it is a dark saying, indeed.

On parables in Hebrew Scripture, see https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/parable

On later developments on rabbinic literature, see https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/11898-parable

Going into the kingdom of God ahead of you (Matt 21; Pentecost 18A)

Two weeks ago, in following along with the excerpts from the Gospel of Matthew which the Revised Common Lectionary has been offering us this year, we heard a parable that threatened that God would torture a person until they forgave a person who owed them a modest debt (18:23–35). Where is the compassion in that? Is this really what we understand God to be like? Should this story really be in our scriptures?

Last week, we heard a parable in which people who laboured in a vineyard for quite different lengths of time were given the same pay at the end of the day (20:1–16). Where is the justice in that? The rationale for this is that “the last will be first, and the first will be last” (20:16)—a saying that Jesus utters on other occasions, as well. Is this really what we understand the kingdom will be like? Does this unjust story really deserve a place in our scriptures?

This week, we will be confronted with a parable in which two sons each say one thing, but do the opposite (21:28–30). Where is the honesty in that? Be a person of your word—do what you say, say what you mean to do! But there is even more, as Jesus continues on after having spoken this parable with words that are even more confronting: “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you” (21: 31). Is this really what we have to look forward to? It makes me want to cry out, “Hey! there’s a queue here—just wait your turn!”

Parables, according to Tim Mackie and Jon Collins of the Bible Project, were used by Jesus as “a means of indirect communication to critique and dismantle his listener’s views of the world to show them the true nature of God’s Kingdom.” See https://bibleproject.com/podcast/parables-subversive-critique/

And so that is the case in each of these parables. There’s a good amount of critiquing and dismantling going on; and a fair bit, also, of reconstructing a picture of what that kingdom might well be like. Whilst we might expect—indeed, we might yearn—to have stories which reinforce our view that God is loving, kind, and compassionate to all, the fact is that the parable of the unjust steward—and other sayings of Jesus—insist that God exercises vengeance in the course of ensuring justice.

We might well hope to have stories that communicate that God’s justice means equity and fairness for everyone; yet the parable of the labourers in the vineyard—and other sayings of Jesus—insist that God operates in ways that are counter-cultural and in opposition to the expected norms of fairness in society.

And certainly we might anticipate that Jesus will tell stories that assure us of the claim that a life of faithful obedience and careful adherence to stringent ethical standards will lead to our experiencing the welcoming arms of God, perhaps a prioritised means of entry into the loving embrace of God; yet the conclusion that Jesus offers to the parable of the two sons is completely different, with a shocking declaration that those entering the kingdom ahead of us will be precisely the people that we would expect to be debarred from entry!

What is going on? And in particular, why does Jesus assert that “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you” (21:31)?

*****

In the three Synoptic Gospels, Jesus is presented as one who “eats with tax collectors and sinners” (Mark 2:15–16; Matt 9:10–11; Luke 5:30–31). Jesus clearly declares, “I have come to call not the righteous but sinners” (Mark 2:17; Matt 9:13; Luke 5:32). Two of those Gospels also report that he was known as “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Matt 11:19; Luke 7:34).

Indeed, Matthew, one of the twelve men initially called to be a disciple, was a tax collector (Matt 9:9; 10:3), although in Luke’s narrative he is named as Levi (Luke 5:27). This man, Levi, does not appear amongst the twelve named disciples (Luke 6:13–16; Acts 1:13), and the Matthew named in these Lukan lists is not identified as a tax collector.

In a striking parable reported only by Luke, a tax collector is presented favourably, in contrast to a Pharisee (Luke 18:9–14); that story resonates with the affirmation of tax collectors given at Matt 21:31–32. Soon after that parable is told, Luke reports an encounter that Jesus had with a rich chief tax collector named Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1–10). In this passage, the tax collector acts above and beyond the call,of duty, announcing that “half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much” (Luke 19:8).

By contrast, in a teaching passage found only in Matthew’s Gospel, tax collectors are linked with Gentiles in a declaration that a recalcitrant sinner who refuses to repent after being given multiple opportunities should be considered “as a Gentile and a tax collector” (Matt 18:17), clearly indicating that they are to be expelled from the community.

That statement appears to be in direct contradiction to the later declaration of the Matthean Jesus that we hear in this coming Sunday’s passage—a declaration that “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God” ahead of the (presumably) faithful disciples, because “John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him” (Matt 21:31–32).

These words seem to correlate with the earlier aphorism of Jesus, “the last will be first, and the first will be last” (Matt 20:16), a saying that recurs in other contexts, when Jesus points to a child as a sign of the kingdom (Mark 9:35) and in response to a declaration of fidelity made by Peter (Mark 10:31; Matt 19:30). Indeed, this latter occurrence in Matthew’s Gospel not only concludes a sequence of incidents set in Judea (Matt 19:1–30), but also introduces the parable we heard last Sunday (20:1–16)—a parable which ends with the very same saying.

“The last will be first, and the first will be last” thus bookends that parable, indicating that it has a programmatic significance. And it is that claim from which Jesus then launches, in this coming Sunday’s reading, into the parable that drives home this upside-down character of the coming kingdom, noting that “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom” ahead of the disciples, which he then drives home the point with intensity: “even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him” (21:32).

That’s fair warning: Jesus is giving plenty of opportunity for his disciples to hear, understand, and respond to his message. And if we don’t, then he won’t pull any punches! Perhaps that’s actually the point of this parable. So it seems we are back to judgement—a motif that I have noted is intensified and amplified in Matthew’s account of Jesus, when compared with the Gospels of either Mark or Luke. See

Darkness, weeping, and gnashing of teeth: the scene of judgement (Matt 22; Pentecost 20A)

A final parable from the book of origins: on sheep and goats, on judgement and righteous-justice (Matt 25; Pentecost 26A)

We have been given fair warning!!

A parable of grace—and a story of grace (Matt 20 and Matt 27; Pentecost 17A)

A sermon on Matthew 20:1–16, written and preached by the Rev. Elizabeth Raine

The Gospel of Matthew was the subject of my PhD research, and I so enjoy teaching that Gospel to groups of people, especially when it comes around in the lectionary (as it has this year). And this might well lead you to think that I look forward to being able to share something of my interest in that gospel in weekly sermons.

However, I have found that as much as I like teaching Matthew, I actually don’t like preaching Matthew—at least not the passages that have fallen to my lot in recent months. You may have noticed that in most of the gospel readings we have heard over the few months, there is almost always a line or two about judgment, eternal punishment, and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Last week’s reading was no exception, with the unforgiving slave finding himself not only unforgiven, but also condemned to be tortured.

Matthew is very fond of predicting a harsh judgment and eternal punishment for his enemies. His gospel contains more references to hell and eternal punishment that most of the New Testament put together, with the possible exception of the book of Revelation. He sneaks these references into his material wherever possible, changing his Markan source to reflect his own interests in God’s wrath.

Now while this is interesting to teach, it is not very helpful when trying to construct a sermon that is meant to give food for thought and help folk reflect on their faith. Not all of us want our enemies to be gnashing teeth and wailing in hell. When I teach and research Matthew, I find myself often asking this question of Matthew’s gospel: what are its redeeming features as far as nurturing faith goes?

This is actually tricky to answer. Even last week’s teaching on forgiveness was undermined by the harsh punishment of the slave. And Matthew is actually a grace-free gospel, in that the Greek word for grace, charis, is never used by the author. Many of the stories in Matthew have a pronounced down side. Matthew often includes things such as alienation from family, name-calling, murder, impossible ethical demands and eternal damnation in his gospel.

However, Matthew does have one unique and I think, extraordinary act of redemption in his gospel, apart from Jesus’ death.

I will start with explaining what this is by using this week’s reading. The parable we encounter in this passage (Matt 20:1–16) is unique to Matthew’s Gospel. As such, it may be considered an insight into the special focus of the Gospel, and reflect something of the writer’s understanding of life around him in first century Palestine.

This story of the vineyard workers may well be taken straight from agricultural life in a Palestinian village. Like many of Jesus’ parables, it draws on images and practices familiar to the lifestyle of the crowds who gathered around Jesus to listen to him. Such familiarity would have caught the crowd’s attention and helped them understand the religious teaching that Jesus wanted to convey.

Like many of Jesus’ parables, though, the story has an unexpected twist. Even in first century Palestine, the concept of equal work for equal pay was an established principle. But here we find the vineyard owner paying the same wage to the labourers, regardless of how much or how little time they worked during the day. Such an uneconomical practice must have taken the crowd by surprise. What lord or owner would make such a foolishly generous offer?

The clue is in the last verse of the story, in a saying that Jesus has used a number of times, and one that was no doubt familiar to his disciples and regular followers: “the last shall be first and the first shall be last”.

With this phrase, the vineyard is revealed as the kingdom of heaven, and the owner is, of course, God – the God who is as generous to those who seek his kingdom at the last minute as he is to those who found it much earlier.

The verses which follow after this parable show that it must have been difficult for the disciples to hear, especially James and John! The request of the mother of James and John made it clear that they and the other disciples had given up everything they had to follow Jesus, with the expectation of heavenly reward. Now those who would join the movement later, who have not given up so much or suffered as long, would be greeted by God as equals.

Most scholars think that Matthew may have included this story to defend Jesus’ inclusion of sinners in the kingdom as well as the righteous, though this doesn’t explain why the emphasis is on those who come to the kingdom later. Maybe Jesus meant the story to be understood symbolically, with the ‘last’ being the same as the ‘least’, and thus servanthood and humbleness are being emphasised.

I have another take on this. In a swift segue, I am now jumping into another story in Matthew that does not make it into the lectionary. And that is the story of Judas.

What do we remember Judas for? What is his story? Does anyone remember how Judas died?

All the gospels state that Judas goes to the chief priests and asks for money to betray Jesus. Luke and John both state that Satan entered into Judas. John also calls him a devil and a thief. All the gospels have Judas arrive in the Garden of Gethsemane to betray Jesus with a kiss. It is what happens after this that is unique to Matthew.

Judas, as befitting his actions, meets with an untimely end. There is one version of Judas’ death in Acts: this man acquired a field with the reward of his wickedness; and falling headlong, he burst open in the middle and all his bowels gushed out. This became known to all the residents of Jerusalem, so that the field was called in their language Hakeldama, that is, Field of Blood. (Acts 1:18).

Another less familiar version of Judas’ death is found in the second century church father Papias. Papias obviously had a colourful imagination. A fourth century bishop named Apollonius cites what a second century bishop named Papias apparently claimed about Judas: Judas did not die by hanging, but lived on, having been cut down before choking. And this the Acts of the Apostles makes clear, that falling headlong his middle burst and his bowels poured forth.

Apollonius goes on to say that Papias the disciple of John records this most clearly, saying thus in the fourth of the Exegeses of the Words of the Lord: Judas walked about as an example of godlessness in this world, having been bloated so much in the flesh that he could not go through where a chariot goes easily, indeed not even his swollen head by itself. For the lids of his eyes, they say, were so puffed up that he could not see the light, and his own eyes could not be seen, not even by a physician with optics, such depth had they from the outer apparent surface. And his genitalia appeared more disgusting and greater than all formlessness, and he bore through them from his whole body flowing pus and worms, and to his shame these things alone were forced [out]. And after many tortures and torments, they say, when he had come to his end in his own place, from the place became deserted and uninhabited until now from the stench, but not even to this day can anyone go by that place unless they pinch their nostrils with their hands, so great did the outflow from his body spread out upon the earth.

One of the exercises we do in introduction to New Testament Studies is to examine which, or indeed, any account of the death of Judas could be historical. Most of the students find these two versions to be fiction. But we do have another account in the gospel of Matthew.

Matthew treats Judas differently from the beginning. For a start, only Matthew mentions the sum of 30 pieces of silver being Judas’ fee for the betrayal. The sum of 30 shekels of silver was the value put on the Lord by the corrupt leaders of Israel in the book of Zechariah.

Only in Matthew does Judas ask the question “Is it I, Rabbi?” when Jesus states that one of them will betray him. Just as an aside here, in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus is only called rabbi twice, and both times it is by Judas.

At the moment of the betrayal, only in Matthew does Jesus refer to Judas as ‘friend’, and he also tells him “may that for which you are here be done”. This is rather different to the question of Luke’s Jesus: “Judas, do you betray me with a kiss?” The Jesus of Mark and John says nothing to Judas at this point.

Whilst the account found in Luke—Acts indicates that Judas goes off to enjoy his ill-gotten gains, and is only cut short in this aim by some judicious punishment on God’s part, the story is very different in Matthew.

In a passage unique to this gospel, the Judas of Matthew is overcome with remorse when he sees Jesus is condemned. He repents, returns the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, and states that he has “sinned by betraying innocent blood”. Met with disinterest and no compassion by the priests, Judas throws the money down in the temple, then leaves, to hang himself. The Greek in Matthew leaves us in no doubt as to Judas’ self-inflicted fate, despite Papias’ attempts to resurrect him so he can then unrepent, and go off and buy his field as per the account in Acts.

Judas, through Christian history, has been demonized for his actions. One can see this beginning in the later gospels of Luke and John, who insist that Judas was a sinner possessed by the devil or Satan, and of course in the later Papias, whose Judas is a very caricature of evil. Matthew does not join in this demonisation of Judas. Not only that though, Matthew goes even further, in that Matthew offers to Judas one of the greatest acts of salvation in our New Testament – he actually redeems Judas.

How can you be sure of that?, I hear you cry. Firstly, note that Judas repents. Repent is a word used sparingly in this gospel. It first appears with John the Baptist, he cries to people to ‘repent for the kingdom of heaven draws near”. John also tells them to ‘bear fruit worthy of repentance’. Jesus echoes the cry of ‘Repent, for the kingdom has drawn near’ in the next chapter.

In chapter 11, Jesus upbraids the cities of Chorazin and Bethsaida for not repenting, despite having many miracles carried out in them. In chapter 12, he reminds the unrepentant that the city of Ninevah repented when hearing Jonah’s proclamation about God. Where does Judas’ repentance fit with this?

The depiction of Judas throughout Christian history as infamy embodied has led most exegetes to the conclusion that this repentance in Matthew is merely regret, and not genuine repentance.

I have two things to say to this view. Firstly, it would seem that suicide is a rather drastic reaction to mere regret. Suicide speaks of deep remorse and repentance to me. Secondly, Matthew does not use ‘repent’ unless he means it. In fact, in the parable that follows this one in chapter 22, Matthew uses this very word to describe the actions of the son that initially refused to work in the vineyard, then changed his mind (or repented) and went. Jesus makes the point it is this son who did the will of the father.

So we should assume that Judas’ repentance is genuine. This is underscored by Judas not keeping the money but returning it.

Last of all, we need to consider Judas’ motivation in his act of betrayal. In looking at this, we should note firstly that Jesus goes to his death obedient to the will of God. Judas, therefore, becomes part of enacting the will of God. So the question is raised, “Does Judas have a choice”? I am sure that Matthew doesn’t think so, despite Jesus saying earlier ‘woe to the one who betrays the son of man’. The eventual fate of Judas bears out Jesus words, but does not damn him eternally.

The next surprise is that Jesus calls Judas ‘friend’ at the moment of betrayal, and makes the thoughtful statement “may that for which you are here be done” to Judas, implying some sort of foreordained action. 

The knock down argument is the scriptural fulfillment that follows hard on the telling of Judas’ demise, when the priests decide to purchase a field with the money:

Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah, “And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of the one on whom a price had been set, on whom some of the people of Israel had set a price, and they gave them for the potter’s field, as the Lord commanded me.” (Matt 27:9–10)

And Judas’ actions in betraying Jesus for 30 pieces of silver, is from the prophet Zechariah, another scriptural fulfillment allusion to the betrayal and sale of the Lord.

Now Matthew’s God is somewhat wrathful in his judgments, but is always just. If Judas had no choice, how can he then be condemned?

Judas’ suicide resembles that of Ahithophel, the man who had assisted Absalom in his rebellion against King David, and was thus the betrayer of David. Like Judas, Ahithophel hangs himself, yet is still described by many of the rabbis as having entered the world to come, or heaven as this world was known.

Judas not only shows regret and remorse, he repents, and in doing so, makes a confession to the priests of his guilt. He returns his ill-gotten gains. When the priests refuse to take the money, Judas throws it into the temple. When they do not reconsider his crime for the shedding of innocent blood, Judas enacts the appropriate punishment on himself. He seeks to make atonement through his own death.

Christians have always given lip service to the notion that even in the last days of life, true repentance is possible. However, the tradition in regard to Judas has consistently and systematically denied him this.

Not so Matthew. His parable of the workers in the vineyard insists that all who come to the right understanding of Jesus and God, even if it be very late in the day, will be welcome in the kingdom. Surely, in accord with the story he tells, this must include Judas.

Matthew, this grace-free, most judgmental of gospels, is also the gospel that extends the most mercy to one of Christianity’s most hated characters. Whatever Matthew’s exact reasons for his version of events, the parable – and its corollary in the story of Judas – surely must remind us of God’s overwhelming grace, a grace that is inclusive of all who would seek God.

Parables, riddles, and allegories: the craft of Jewish storytelling (Matt 13; Pentecost 8A)

Jesus used parables as the chief means of his story-telling. A parable is a story told in a specific way, often to make a single clear point. Parables are conundrums. They contain unresolved tensions. They invite multiple understandings. They press for exploration and investigation. We have another parable in the Gospel reading for this coming Sunday!

The accounts of Jesus that we have in scripture—Mark’s beginning of the good news of Jesus, Matthew’s book of origins of Jesus, Chosen One, and Luke’s orderly account of the things fulfilled—each contain a number of parables. Even in John’s book of signs, there are some parable-like sections, buried in the midst of the long discourses that this book contains.

Last week (Pentecost 7A), we had the parable of the seeds and the sower (13:3-9) and its interpretation (13:18-23). This week (Pentecost 8A), we will hear the parable of the weeds among the wheat (13:24-30) and its interpretation (13:36-43). Then in the following week (Pentecost 9A), we will hear the other five parables in this chapter: the mustard seed (13:31-32), the yeast in the flour (13:33), hidden treasure (13:44), a pearl of great value (13:45-46), and the net that caught fish (13:47-48)—each one offered without interpretation.

As with last week, so also this week we are given a parable, followed immediately by an interpretation of the parable. I had a spout last week about the way that a later allegorising understanding of the parable has been placed on the lips of Jesus, in this Gospel account. You can read that at https://johntsquires.com/2020/07/09/parables-the-craft-of-storytelling-in-the-book-of-origins-matt-13/

However, Elizabeth and I have had a rolling conversation about parables, and how they were seen and used in Judaism. The idea that the allegorising interpretation was a later addition, beyond the time of Jesus, has held sway for a number of decades in critical biblical scholarship. Christian scholars are dubious about whether Jesus would have utilise this somewhat hellenised approach to stories. (We know that allegories were in evidence centuries before Jesus in Greek literature. Whether Jesus knew this long tradition is debatable.)

Yet this critical Christian perspective overlooks the claim that Judaism, and the long stream of Jewish tellers of parables, have on such stories. Parables are found, in Jewish literature, in various forms. There are, for a start in Hebrew Scripture, a number of short, succinct, one-liners, often introduced as a simple comparison (“this is like that”), making just one focussed point. (Indeed, that is what the Greek word parabolē means—it signals two things that are “thrown beside” each other.)

The widow in Tekoa explains her plight to King David, explaining that “your servant had two sons, and they fought with one another in the field; there was no one to part them, and one struck the other and killed him; now the whole family has risen against your servant” (2 Sam 14:6–7).

When Ahab was king, a prophet waited beside the road, disguised with a bandage over his eyes, and taunts the king: “your servant went out into the thick of the battle; then a soldier turned and brought a man to me, and said, ‘Guard this man; if he is missing, your life shall be given for his life, or else you shall pay a talent of silver.’ While your servant was busy here and there, he was gone.” (1 Ki 20:38–40).

The “song of my lover about his vineyard” that Isaiah tells (Isa 5:1–7) is longer, but drives relentlessly to the single point: the Lord of hosts “expected justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!”. Another agricultural parable relates the skill of the farmer who utilises good practices to produce abundant harvests; “they are well instructed; their God teaches them”, and so “this also comes from the Lord of hosts; he is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in wisdom” (Isa 28:24–29).

The classic example from Hebrew Scripture comes after David pursues Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, after he has sent Uriah off into battle. The adultery of King David leads the prophet Nathan to confront him with a story about “a rich man who had many flocks” and “a poor man who had nothing but one little ewe lamb” (2 Sam 12:1–4).

As the story develops, and the rich man took the poor man’s lamb to feed a visitor, the king explodes into anger (2 Sam 12:5–6)—only to be met by the damning words of the prophet: “you are the man!” (2 Sam 12:7). The parable had drawn David into the web of the story, and there was now no escape!

In the parable of the weeds and the wheat which Jesus tells (Matt 13:24–30), there is a simple contrast drawn between the weeds and the wheat, and a story which develops so that the conclusion that is drawn can only be seen as inevitable. That simplicity, and also that technique of drawing the listener into the story, is typical of parables that Jesus told.

A number of the parables told be Jesus were indeed short and direct, making a single point and needing little explanation: see the parables of the treasure (13:44) and the pearl (13:45), for instance. This made the parable easy to remember and repeat orally.

These parables are little more than an introduction (“the kingdom of heaven is like…”) and a single image which is used to describe a characteristic of the kingdom (hidden treasure, or fine pearls). The first part of this week’s parable (13:24–26) has this form. It is short and direct.

It starts with the classic introduction, “the kingdom of heaven may be compared to …”. It goes on to tell of the good seeds, which grow into wheat, and the bad seeds, which grow into weeds. This part of the parable has a simple contrasting form, like the parable of the good fish and the bad fish caught in the net, as told in the last of the seven parables (13:47–48).

But the parable has a story attached to these weeds among the wheat (13:27–30). So Jesus continues with a little plot development, which brings in a reflection on the human characters who sowed the seeds. In this regard, this is like other parables of Jesus, which are a little more developed; they still make a single point, but it is developed or explained a little more. And the questions are raised … and the listeners ponder, and consider their responses …

This parable plays,quite cleverly, on the fact that there is, indeed, a type of “weed” which, for much of its life, looks quite like wheat (the bearded darnel, lolium temulentum, or Darnel Ryegrass). So it is a story which is quite credible in the scenario it proposes. And then, added to the actual parable, there comes a separate section that provides a strongly allegorised interpretation of what happened in the field where the wheat and the weeds grew (13:24–30).

That development in the plot of this parable, and the subsequent allegorical interpretation, might well relate to the fact that the Hebrew Scriptures also contain parables with developed plots and allegorical elements. In an allegory, particular individual features can play an independently figurative role, so that the story told becomes a kind of riddle which invites a response from the listener. “What do you think?” becomes the implied way that the allegory-riddle ends. Listening to the story is not enough—the listener needs to engage, enter the conundrum, make up their mind!

A classic short, simple riddle is that spoken by Samson, “out of the eater came something to eat; out of the strong came something sweet” (Judg 14:14). The narrative comment that follows is delightful: “for three days they could not explain the riddle”! Another example is the proverb quoted by two prophets, about the impact of the Exile: “the parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge” (Jer 31:29; Ezek 18:2). The point of this saying is clear, and telling.

In Hebrew Scripture, the allegory of the Eagles and the Vine (Ezek 17:3–10) is described as both ḥidah (“riddle”) and mashal in verse 2. The parable first describes “a great eagle, with great wings and long pinions”, who carried seed far away where it took root and became a vine (a classic symbol of Israel). It then offers a further description of “another great eagle, with great wings and much plumage”, which the teller of the parable fears may seek to uproot the vine.

“When it is transplanted, will it thrive”, the parable ends (v.10)—will Israel, transplanted into exile, manage to survive that experience? Then follows an explanation of the details of the parable (Ezek 17:11–21), relating the story to the immediate situation of Israel.

Further parable-riddles occur in subsequent chapters in Ezekiel. There is the Lamenting of the Lioness (Ezek 19:2–9) and the Transplanted Vine (Ezek 19:10–14), and the stories of the Harlot Sisters (ibid. 23:2–21). There is also one of my favourites, the very vivid—and gruesome—parable of the Cooking-Pot (Ezek 24:3b—5).

In this parable, the prophet warns the people of judgement: “set on the pot … pour in water … put in the pieces, the thigh and the shoulder … fill it with choice bones” (that is, the meat and bones of the Israelites being punished). The prophet concludes with a booming denunciation: “woe to the bloody city … the blood is shed inside it … to rouse my wrath, I have placed the blood she shed on on a bare rock” (Ezek 24:6–8, and then the metaphor extended still further in 24:9–14).

Each of these parables are clearly allegorical, in that the overall point is clear, and yet also the details in the story invite connection with specific people or events. Ezekiel is a powerful speaker, who utilises this dramatic story-form with great flair, and effect.

A third type of mashal is the fable, where animals or inanimate objects are made to speak and act like men. We know about fables in Greek literature from Aesop, of course, and in more recent literature through those tales collected by the Brothers Grimm; but the article on “Parables” in the Jewish Virtual Library notes a number of instances where Hebrew Scripture contains fables. One good example is Judges 9:8–15, where the trees confer as to who will become king. Another is 2 Kings 14:9–10, where a thornbush sends a message to a cedar, but a wild animal tramples down the thornbush. These fables can be seen to relate directly to the political situation of Israel at different times in their history.

The article on “Parable” in the Jewish Virtual Library also notes: “Mashal and ḥidah are used almost synonymously in Ezekiel 17:2; Habakkuk 2:6; Psalms 49:5 and 78:2; and Proverbs 1:6. Certain proverbs are in effect parable-riddles, e.g., Proverbs 30:15a, 15b–16, 18–19, and 21–31.

“Other biblical forms related to the parable type of mashal are: prophetic oracles where a metaphor is extended into a lively description, e.g., Isaiah 1:5–6; Hosea 2:2–15; 7:8–9, 11–12; Joel 4:13; and Jeremiah 25:15–29; prophetic oracles proclaimed through symbolic actions, e.g., I Kings 11:29; II Kings 13:15–19, and Isaiah 20:2–6; extended personifications as of Wisdom and Folly in Proverbs 1:20–33; 8:1–36; 9:1–6, 13–18; and revelatory dreams and visions having symbolism which the sequel interprets as allegorical, e.g., Genesis 37:6–11; 40:9–13, 16–19; Zechariah 1:8–11; 2:1–4; and Daniel 2:31–45.”

Beyond these many examples, there are the multitudes of parables in rabbinic literature (about which, see the further resources listed at the end of this blog).

Returning to the parable of the wheat and the weeds: if we take an agricultural approach to the story, it is a mystery why the weeds had to be burnt, and not just pulled out—as in the version of this parable found in the Gospel of Thomas—and composted—as would occur in my own gardening!

My own take would be that this links with the Jewish prophetic tendency to connect burning with God’s judgement (see Isa 27:2–4; Jer 4:4, 7:20, 15:14, 17:4; Nahum 1:13; Malachi 4:1; see also Ps 79:5, 89:46, and Exod 15:7). And we saw in my comments on the earlier parable that God’s judgement was a strong motif in the parables and teachings of Jesus, especially strengthened in Matthew’s account.

The parable of the mustard seed (13:31–32) is another example of a simple parable with a short plot development. This parable uses the same introductory phrase, “the kingdom of heaven is like …”, and conveys its main point in an image (mustard seed, 13:31) which is further developed to convey what happens to the mustard seed as it grows and forms “the greatest of shrubs” (13:32).

So the plot of the parable of the wheat and the weeds continues until the punchline is reached. It is not during the growing that any distinction is to be made; it is at the harvest that this distinction is enforced. Wheat that grew from good seeds is to be collected and stored; weeds that grew from bad seeds are to be bundled and burnt (13:28–30).

That much, as a parable, has a clear message: don’t intervene into the process of growing, don’t judge (recalling words of Jesus reported at Matt 7:1), but let the end result of the process of growing be the moment when the judgement occurs—and let that judgement be undertaken by God. And that taps into a strong interest, throughout the book of origins, for depicting Jesus as the eschatological preacher of judgement. See

Parables: the craft of storytelling in the book of origins (Matt 13; Pentecost 7A)

This probably explains one curious aspect of the parable, that we noted above: why the weeds had to be burnt, and not just pulled out. It connects with Jewish understandings of judgement. Consistently throughout the book of origins, Jesus is presented as a prophetic eschatological figure. And yet alongside that, he functions as a master story-teller, in the mode of prophets of old as well as the rabbis to come!

In his capacity as God’s Messiah, Jesus frequently promises (or threatens) judgement (5:21–26; 7:1–2; 10:15; 11:21–24; 12:36–37; 19:28– 30; 21:33–44; 22:1–14; 24:29–31, 36-44, 45–51; 25:1–13, 14–30, 31–46; 26:64). The language of burning in the eternal fire characterises both conclusions to parables of Jesus, and the warnings of earlier prophets. Many of these declarations occur in eschatological contexts, where Jesus is warning about the punishment that is to come at “the end of time”, unless the righteous-justice that he advocates is followed in the present.

In the previous chapter, a quotation from the prophet Isaiah (Isa 42:1–4, at Matt 12:15–21) includes an extended quotation from Isaiah 42, where the servant of the Lord proclaims judgement to the Gentiles and they are said to have hope in his name (presumably because they repent and believe him). This is the function that Jesus, as God’s servant, the Chosen One, carries out. It’s not for us human beings to take on the role of judge. That belongs to God, carried out through his chosen agent, Jesus.

The parable of the wheat and the weeds has an intensity because of its focus and orientation towards this fearsome judgement, executed by Jesus as “the Son of Man” (24:30–31), in obedience to the desire of God. The interpretation of the parable might be seen to defuse the intensity of the parable by fussing about what each element refers to: the Sower is the Son of Man, the good seeds are the children of the kingdom, the bad seeds are the children of the evil one, the enemy is the devil, and so on (13:39). But the end point remains clear: judgement is a hand!

The interpretation of the parable ends with a repetition and expansion of the scene of judgement that ended the parable—but the good seed is not simply stored, it morphs into the righteous in the kingdom, and the bad seed is not burnt as seed, but it becomes the ones who disobeyed the law, burning in the furnace (13:41–43). And there will be “weeping and gnashing of teeth” (13:42; see also 13:50; 22:14; 25:30). So the same punchline holds in this section, as in the parable itself.

Interestingly, the interpretation ends with the same punchline that concluded the parable of the seeds and the sower: let anyone with ears, listen! (13:43, cf. 13:9). Jesus continues to press the point. Judgement is inevitable. He will continue to articulate this ominous message throughout the remainder of the Gospel—right through to the sequence of the four parables of judgement that conclude the final teachings of Jesus (24:44—25:46). Let anyone with ears, listen, indeed!

This blog draws on material in MESSIAH, MOUNTAINS, AND MISSION: an exploration of the Gospel for Year A, by Elizabeth Raine and John Squires (self-published 2012), and from ongoing conversations that Elizabeth and I have had about parables, Christian interpretation, Jewish storytelling techniques, and associated matters.

On Jesus’ language of judgement elsewhere in Matthew’s book of origins, see

Darkness, weeping, and gnashing of teeth: the scene of judgement (Matt 22; Pentecost 20A)
Discipleship in an apocalyptic framework (Matt 23–25; Pentecost 23–26A)
A final parable from the book of origins: on sheep and goats, on judgement and righteous-justice (Matt 25; Pentecost 26A)
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The Jewish Virtual Library article on “Parable” can be found at https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/parable

For further reading on parables in the rabbinic tradition, see

https://www.cfi.org.uk/downloads/rabinnic-parables.pdf

https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/11898-parable

https://www.jerusalemperspective.com/2721/