Pondering the Parables

 

REFLECTIONS ON THE PARABLES OF JESUS
BY FR. BERNARD CAMIRÉ, S.S.S.

 

From the Bulletin of Saint Jean Baptiste Catholic Church, New York City

 

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June 15, 2008
The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats (Matthew 25:31-46)

The scene described in this passage of Matthew’s Gospel, the final section of Jesus’ concluding discourse, is one of power and grandeur.  Though it is frequently called a parable, the formal parabolic element here is the comparison of the separation of the nations with the division of sheep and goats.  Nevertheless, the scene has many of the characteristics of Gospel parables, especially with its realistic and vivid dialogue between the king and those who are judged and the surprising questions that are put to the king.  Many Scripture scholars maintain that this scene should more accurately be called an "apocalyptic parable" and should be interpreted from the horizon of the apocalyptic genre. For ease of discourse, here we shall refer to it simply as a parable.

The classic interpretation of this Gospel passage is the following: When Jesus, the Son of Man, comes in glory, he will judge all peoples and the criterion of judgment will be the works of mercy and charity shown to the needy, the marginalized, and the suffering of the world.  Jesus so identifies himself with these that whatever is done to them, by way of service or neglect, is done to Jesus — "Whatever you did [did not do] for one of these least brothers of mine, you did [did not do] for me" (verses 40 and 45).  People will be called "blessed" and "righteous" on the basis of actions that are done simply for any person in need.

Against this classic interpretation, a number of objections have been raised.  For example, in Judaism and early Christianity, there is no clear instance where an unconverted Gentile is spoken of as an adelphos, the Greek word for "brother."  This word in Matthew’s Gospel is used in reference to Christian disciples.  Also, Matthew uses the term "little ones" for the vulnerable members of the Christian community.  Finally, this judgment scene comes at the end of a discourse that is delivered to disciples, and is preceded by three parables concerning proper discipleship.  In light of these objections, it has been argued that the "least brothers" of Jesus are Christian missionaries, who often endured privations and hardships, rather than the needy as such, and that the pagan nations will be judged on how they have received these missionaries.  Though this judgment scene has undergone certain interpretative developments from Jesus to the written Gospel, it is surely true to say that it brings together many important themes from Matthew’s Gospel and remains an inspiring source for Christian social ethics.

This parable transports us to that moment when Jesus, the Son of Man, will come in his glory; when all the nations will be assembled before him, and its people will be separated "as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats."  The time for change and conversion is past; what people have done during their earthly life will determine their eternal destiny.  They will be compelled to recognize the judgment given, not avoid it.  The king addresses a group as either blessed or accursed, and announces their fates: they will enter into his kingdom or be forced to depart from him, In parallel statements, the king affirms why those on his right are blessed and those on his left are accursed, namely, because definite needs — feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, etc. — were either attended to or ignored.

The surprise element in the parable is in the question that the blessed and then the accursed put to the king, and the response the king gives them.  The blessed are admitted to the kingdom not because they were fully aware of serving Christ in attending to the needs of the hungry, the naked, or the ill, but simply because they cared for the "least brothers" of Jesus.  In other words, Christ was served because he identified himself with those in need.  Likewise, the accursed are denied the kingdom not because they refused to see Christ in the destitute, but because they withheld necessary care of those in need.

As we said earlier, this parable constitutes an inspiring source for the social ethics of Christians.  It urges and motivates us to recognize the presence of Christ in his "least brothers," those who are in want and, because of their sometimes unattractive appearance and offensive character, are shunned by society.  Moreover, the parable warns us of the seriousness of sins of omission.  Because Jesus has identified himself with every human person, to refuse consistently acts of charity to those in need, especially those in grave need, is so serious an omission that our eternal destiny is placed in jeopardy.

Very appropriately, we conclude our reflection on this parable with a quote from the Second Vatican Council’s Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World: "Today there is an inescapable duty to make ourselves the neighbor of every man, no matter who he is, and if we meet him, to come to his aid in a positive way , whether he is an aged person abandoned by all, a foreign worker despised without reason, a refugee, an illegitimate child wrongly suffering for a sin he did not commit, or a starving human being who awakens our conscience by calling to mind the words of Christ: ‘Whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me’" (27).

 

May 4, 2008
The Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30)

This parable, one of the longest in the Gospel of Matthew, has always been known as the Parable of the Talents.  It is good to point out, at the start, that the talent in question was not a coin but a weight.  Its value depended on whether the coinage it represented was copper, gold, or silver, which was the most common metal in use.  A talent would have amounted to about 15 years worth of wages of an ordinary laborer.

Although the comparison is not made explicit in the parable, the kingdom of heaven is compared to the situation of a man who, before leaving on a journey, entrusts his possessions to his servants.  The distribution of the property is unequal, but each servant, "according to his abilities," receives specific talents: five, two, or one.  The servant who receives the five talents immediately trades and doubles his talents, as does the servant who receives the two.  However, the servant who receives the one talent simply buries it in the ground.

Upon the master’s return after a prolonged absence, the servants are summoned for a settling of accounts.  The first two servants report a profit on the talents entrusted to them.  Both receive the same praise: "Well done, my good and faithful servant.  Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities.  Come, share your master’s joy."

When the servant who received the one talent appears before the master, the mood of the narrative changes.  The master’s opening words to the servant are very similar to what he said to the other servants, almost raising the reader’s expectation that a similar favorable outcome will ensue; but upon hearing the servant’s report, the master’s response is severe.  The servant thought that, in view of the master’s exacting character, it was sufficient for him to hide safely what was entrusted to him and then restore it.  He was wrong.  The master calls him "wicked and lazy," and then has him cast into the darkness outside, after giving the one talent to the servant who possessed the ten.

At first sight, it may seem that the mater’s reaction is out of proportion to the servant’s offense.  The servant did not attempt to defraud his master; his burying the money merely reflected a timid prudence.  Although the master, in his response to the servant’s report, echoes the servant’s characterization of him as being very exacting, there is actually nothing in the parable to warrant such a characterization.  On the contrary, the master’s giving to the first servant the one talent of the third servant reveals a true magnanimity.  It was the servant’s total inactivity and fear of failure that the master could not abide.

In his recounting of this parable, the evangelist Matthew sees the first two servants as symbols of faithful discipleship.  This stands in contrast to the indolence and paralyzing fear of the third servant.  The point is made that in the time before the Lord’s return, Christian disciples must act in a productive and responsible manner; they must avoid those attitudes and actions that will result in exclusion from the kingdom of heaven.

The parable provides much matter for reflection.  For example, we learn from this parable that God gives individuals differing gifts.  The servants in the parable were entrusted with varying amounts of talents.  Had the third servant used his one talent responsibly and productively, he too, like the first two servants, would have been rewarded and made to share in the master’s joy.  It is not talents that are of importance, but the use we make of them.  God does not demand of us abilities which we do not have; but he does expect of us the full use of the abilities we possess.

Also, we learn from this parable that the individual who fails God and falls from his favor is the one who does not bother to try.  The servant entrusted with the one talent was punished not because he lost it, but because he simply did nothing with it.  Even if he had been enterprising with it and failed, that would have been better than to do nothing at all.

To summarize the message of this parable, we can say quite simply: through all of our life we must make fruitful use of the gifts of nature and grace that God has given us.  What matters is not the many or few gifts we have received but the generous and good use we make of these gifts.

 

March 30, 2008
The Parable of the Ten Virgins (Matthew 25:1-13)

This parable is the second of Matthew’s parables on vigilance in view of the second coming of Jesus.  Scripture scholars debate whether the story is a parable as such or an allegory, depending on the extent to which they accept the details of the story as reflecting accurately the wedding customs of first century Palestine.  The fact is, there is a lack of sure data regarding the wedding customs of that time and place; and even the evidence of the Gospels in this matter does not show complete consistency.  In our consideration of the parable here, our approach will reflect a more allegorical understanding.

As regards weddings in ancient Palestine, one thing is certain: they were great festive occasions when whole villages would turn out to greet a couple and accompany them to their new home.  The actual wedding, however, took place ordinarily in the house of the bride’s father and was a feast to which the couple’s closest relatives and friends were admitted.  The bridegroom’s time for arrival at the bride’s home was only vaguely determined; if he was delayed, he could arrive in the dark of the night.  When his approach at some distance was announced, members of the bridal party would meet and accompany him with lighted oil lamps.

In the parable we are considering, the arrival of the bridegroom in the middle of the night reflects scenes found in other parables, for example, the return of Jesus like a thief in the night (Mt 24:43) or in the middle of the night (Mt 13:35).  Also, in the midnight "cry" to go out and "meet" the bridegroom we have imagery that recalls Saint Paul’s description of the Christian’s encounter with the Lord Jesus at the end of time (1 Thes 4:16-17).

It is interesting to note that of all the parables dealing with servants who watch and wait, this parable alone has female lead characters.  They are explicitly called "virgins"; this causes us to reflect how Saint Paul, in his First Letter to the Corinthians, discusses virginity in an end-of-time context (7:25-31).  Virginity, there, is recommended because the unmarried person is concerned for the things of the Lord rather than for one’s spouse.  In our parable, Matthew reflects a similar world of thought: the five virgins who are prepared for the bridegroom’s return are symbols of life lived in light of the Lord’s coming, as well as of authentic Christian discipleship during the Lord’s delay.

Crucial to our understanding of the parable’s message is the stress on oil and lighted lamps.  Five of the virgins are excluded from the wedding feast not because they slept ("they all became drowsy and fell asleep") but because they did not have lighted lamps.  This imagery should be seen in light of other texts of Matthew’s Gospel, for example, 5:14-16 and 13:43, where, respectively, Christian disciples are exhorted to let their "light" shine before all and are told that the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their heavenly Father.

Moreover, the division of the virgins into five wise and five foolish indicates that the Lord’s final coming will be a time that discloses and separates the good from the bad.  The cry of the foolish maidens, "Lord, Lord," and their exclusion from the wedding feast recall Jesus’ warning in Matthew 7:21: "Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven."

With the Parable of the Ten Virgins, Mathew summons Christians to be attentive and responsible disciples in face of the "delay" of the Lord’s return.  This note of "delay," however, must not obscure the element of "threat" connected with the uncertainty of the Lord’s return.  Christian discipleship does not simply consist of passive waiting for the world’s end and Christ’s return.  Christians, like the wise virgins, must know how to be prepared ("flasks of oil with their lamps") and engage in good deeds.  Christian vigilance is not merely waiting for the consummating future; rather, it is an active engagement with present realities, the day-to-day living of Gospel teaching, that will favorably shape the future.

 

February 17, 2008
The Parable of the Faithful and Wise Servant (Mt 24:45-51)

This parable begins with a rhetorical question: "Who, then, is the faithful and wise servant . . .?" which sets the tone for this and the two parables that follow (25:1-13 and 24:14-30).  Since the parable makes evident who the faithful and wise servant is, the question is actually directed to the hearers, summoning them to answer the question in light of the lives they lead.

A master of the house, upon departing for some reason, puts a servant in charge of the proper distribution of food to the household.  Two ways of carrying out the charge are described.  In the first, the master returns and finds the servant doing as he was instructed; he is described as "blessed."  (We note that in Matthew’s Gospel "blessed" suggests divine favor, and not mere happiness.)  The servant is then put in charge of all of the master’s property.

In the second instance, the servant is described in greater detail.  His interior deliberations about his master’s return are revealed; also, he becomes abusive toward his fellow servants and behaves irresponsibly in other matters.  When his master returns unexpectedly, he is punished severely and ejected from the household.

In its original and simplest form, the Parable of the Faithful and Wise Servant may have been directed by Jesus to the Jewish leaders of his time.  Jesus’ hearers would have been familiar with the Scriptural image of official spiritual leaders as "servants."  The parable, then, is spoken as a warning to them that the time of reckoning is near and will reveal whether they have been faithful to the trust placed in them.  Deliberate resistance to the message of Jesus, in whom the kingdom of God has dawned, will result in exclusion from that kingdom.

It is possible that Matthew’s narration of this parable reflects concerns that were particular to the Christian community of his time.  This would seem to be substantiated by a number of elements found in the parable.  For example, there is reference to a "faithful and wise servant."  The concept of "faithfulness," in the sense of being reliable, is frequently found in association with leadership in the early church, especially in the letters of Saint Paul (1 Cor 4:17; Eph 6:21; Col 1:7).  Also, there are references to the task of distributing food at the proper time and to the drunken conduct of the unfaithful servant.  Such references call to mind that food and "eating" sometimes serve as metaphors in the New Testament for teaching and learning (Jn 6:25-33; 1 Cor 5:11; 6:10; 11:21) and a disqualifying characteristic for pastoral leadership (1 Tm 3:3; Ti 1:7).  The wicked servant in the parable, then, exemplifies unfaithful leadership in the Christian community.

In this perspective, Matthew has allegorized an original parable of Jesus and addressed it to leaders of the Christian community who behave irresponsibly by failing to administer properly the goods of the community and exercise faithful oversight of its material and spiritual sustenance, and by abusing fellow Christians.  In this way, Matthew is interested less in the events that will accompany the return of Jesus than in giving instruction to church leaders as they await the second coming.

This parable, however, should be read as having application to all members of Christ’s church.  The opposite of a Christian life lived in fidelity and charity and in eager expectation of the glory and joy that will accompany the face-to-face meeting with Christ is a carefree attitude about life’s responsibilities and the committing of sin, especially serious sin.  A terrible spiritual delusion would be to think that we shall have ample time to put things aright before the Master returns.  All of the Christian life must be a constant preparation for the Lord who "will come on an unexpected day and at an unknown hour."

 

January 6, 2008
The Parable of the Wedding Feast (Matthew 22:1-14)

This parable of Matthew is also found in Luke (14:16-24), but in a form that reflects Luke’s particular theological concern.  In both versions, the parable has to do with a man who prepares a feast to which guests had been invited.  However, when the announcement is sent out that the feast is about to begin, those invited offer various excuses.  In response, the man giving the feast substitutes for the invited guests people chosen haphazardly.

In Matthew’s Gospel, the banquet is pictured as a marriage feast given for a king’s son.  The opening scene of the parable was very much in accordance with Jewish custom.  When invitations to a great feast, like a wedding banquet, were sent out, the precise time was not indicated.  It was only when everything was ready that servants were sent out to inform the invited guests that it was time to come.  We see this procedure reflected in our parable; however, when the guests were actually summoned they refused to come and even acted shamefully.

The original perspective of the parable would appear to be the rejection of Jesus’ message by most of his contemporaries and their substitution by the motley group that made up the following of Jesus.  A double focus is discernible: a vindication of Jesus’ openness and offer of forgiveness to tax collectors and sinners while the Jewish leaders (the invited guests) express rejection of him; also, a warning that failure to act when the decisive moment comes (the actual summons to the feast) brings exclusion from the banquet.

A word must be said about a verse within the parable that seems strangely out of place ― a verse that likely was not part of the parable as Jesus told it, but an interpretation by Matthew.  That verse concerns the king who, enraged by the mistreatment and murder of his servants, sent troops who destroyed the murderers and burned their city.  Matthew, who wrote his Gospel sometime after 80 A.D., appears to be making a reference to the destruction of Jerusalem by the armies of Rome in 70 A.D.

Also, we should make mention here of something else that is particular to Matthew ― his conclusion to the parable, which is not found in Luke.  Actually, these concluding verses are a little parable within a parable: the story of a guest who appears at a royal wedding feast without a wedding garment and is therefore ejected.  This idea of a parable used to conclude another parable would explain and soften somewhat the jarring effect we are left with.  How would poor guests, gathered in from the thoroughfares without a previous invitation, be expected to be wearing proper attire?  Their treatment by the king would seem to be unfair.

In the Parable of the Wedding Feast, we note that some of the originally invited guests refused the king’s invitation in order to attend to matters that were not bad in themselves: to look after the administration of a livelihood or to attend to business.  This reminds us that we must never be so busy with the things of daily living ― work, social involvement, recreation ― that we neglect the things of God; never so responsive to the clamor of the world that we do not hear the gentle invitation of the voice of Christ.

Fundamentally, this parable is about God’s gratuitous invitation to live in his grace, to partake of the lavish banquet of his loving favor.  The originally invited guests and, even more so, those who were invited in from the thoroughfares had no claim whatever on the king.  The invitation extended to them came from nothing other than the king’s open-hearted and generous hospitality.  So it is with us humans and God’s munificent offer of grace in Jesus Christ.

Finally, the parable’s conclusion invites us to reflect that prior to the final judgment, the church will necessarily be composed of both the good and the bad; however, that will not be true of the "eternal banquet" with God.  Those who respond to God’s invitation, both the good and the bad, must have something other than a "Yes, Lord" to bring them to the judgment; they must be clothed with grace and with the deeds expected of a Christian disciple.

 

November 25, 2007
The Parable of the Two Sons (Matthew 21:28-32)

This parable, peculiar to Matthew, is rather simple in character and has none of the elements of surprise and paradox that we associate with the other parables of Jesus.  A father asks one of his sons to go and work in the vineyard.  The son refuses at first, but then has a change of heart and goes to work in the vineyard.  The father, who knows only of his first son’s refusal, goes to his second son and makes a like request of him.  The man immediately agrees to the request but does not go to work.

Jesus then asks the chief priests and elders of the people: "Which of the two did his father’s will?"  After they give the obvious answer, Jesus lays before them the parable’s application: "Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you."  Jesus then recalls the ministry of John the Baptist whom "when (he) came to you in the way of righteousness, you did not believe . . .; but tax collectors and prostitutes did."

A key to interpreting this parable is to be found in the question that Jesus puts to the chief priests and elders: "Which of the two sons did his father’s will?"  The son who says "Yes" to his father but then does not go to work as requested is contrasted to the son who rejects the Father’s request but subsequently goes to work.  The parable, in its original form, could have been meant simply to highlight the difference between saying and doing in living the faith that one professes.  However, the addition of verses 31-32, where Jesus describes the reaction of the chief priests and elders to the Baptist’s preaching, gives the parable a more specific application.  The two sons represent, respectively, the religious leaders who prided themselves on their external religious observance but lacked genuine interiority, and the outcasts of Jewish society who responded positively to John’s call to repentance and change of heart.  By their answer to Jesus’ question, the religious leaders pronounce a condemnation on themselves.  However, Matthew, as he recounts this parable, may have in mind the Jewish religious leaders of his own day.  He does not despair of them; on the contrary, though they may resemble the second son who said "Yes" but did not obey, they are now summoned to that life and truth by the Gospel.  They can still say "Yes."

Perhaps in the two sons of the parable we can see two contrasting groups of people in the Christian community.  There are those who, like the second son in the parable, seem to speak a ready "Yes" to God, but their profession is better than their practice.  They give a great exterior display of religious piety and fidelity, but interiorly they lack a genuine appreciation and assimilation of the spirit and ideals of Christ’s Gospel and of the teachings of his church.  On the other hand, there are those who at one time, and perhaps even for a lengthy period, strayed widely from Christ and his church; but at some point they were deeply touched by grace and underwent a profound conversion.  Their reconciliation with Christ and his church was perhaps without exterior drama and fanfare, and they endured the continuing suspicions and calumnies of their "pious" coreligionists.  These people may be regarded with disdain and go about the living of their faith in quiet humility, but they are the ones who truly do the will of their Father.

Finally, our parable reminds us that mere promises cannot replace true performance; fine words cannot substitute for genuine deeds.  The son who said he would go to work in the vineyard and then did not, showed the outward marks of courtesy toward his father, calling him "Sir," a term of respect, but it was a courtesy vitiated by disobedience.  On the other hand, the son who at first refused to go to work but subsequently went demonstrates how basic obedience can, to a degree, make up for a lack of courtesy and respect.  Both sons have something to teach us.  The Christian way is in the actual performance of God’s will and not simply in promise; and the ideal in giving obedience to God’s will is in assenting to it with reverence and readiness.

 

October 28, 2007
The Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16)

Far from depicting an imaginary situation, this parable describes something that occurred frequently at particular times in Palestine, namely, the practice of hiring day-laborers for occasional work.  Soon after the grape harvest ripened toward the end of September, came the rains.  If the grapes were not gathered in before the rains fell, the harvest was ruined.  Since getting the harvest in was a race against time, any available laborers were welcome, even if only an hour of work was all they put in.

Like the Parable of the Unmerciful Servant, this parable can be seen as a drama that unfolds in several acts: the hiring of workers at various times of the day; the paying of wages at the end of the day; and a dénouement, the dialogue between the landowner and the grumbling workers.  The narrative of the parable holds a few surprises, the first of which is the fact that the landowner, rather than his steward, goes out from morning till evening to recruit laborers. Important to note, also, is the fact that all the laborers agree, explicitly or implicitly, to a just wage, a denarius.

A second surprise is anticipated when the payment of the laborers is reversed; normally those who had worked the full day would be the first to receive their wage.  Then, the truly shocking surprise appears: the landowner, portrayed as both just and generous, pays those who were hired last, at early evening (the "eleventh hour"), the same amount as those who were hired at dawn.

The parable concludes with a dialogue between the landowner and the disgruntled workers.  The landowner’s countering response to their complaint is threefold: 1. he did them no injustice; 2. he is free to do as he wishes with his money, namely, to be generous to those hired last; 3. he questions the attitude of the disgruntled, "Are you envious because I am generous?"  The parable is then capped with the famous saying: "Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last" ― a saying which, according to some Scripture scholars, may be an interpretive addition to the parable, making the point that in the reign of God "the first," the Jews or Jewish Christians, have no advantage over "the last," the Gentiles.

The Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard can be interpreted within a narrow or a broader perspective.  In the first perspective, the parable looks to the early disciples, perhaps even to Jesus’ closest disciples, the Twelve.  We are to understand that an early call to discipleship has no relevance to status in the kingdom of God.  Whenever it should happen that we are called to the kingdom, we are admitted to full participation.  The kingdom does not become the "possession" of those who were first called by Jesus, not even of those who designated to hold positions of prominence or authority.

An interpretation of our parable within a broader perspective looks to God’s saving and generous intervention in regard to those who might be seen as outside the bounds of God’s care.  The justice of God is not to be measured against human justice.  Divine justice, for example, forgives our unpayable debts and summons us to forgive others without limit as an expression of gratitude.  If we do otherwise, we risk the judgment pronounced on the unmerciful servant (Mt 18:21-35).  Like the complaining laborers, we are challenged by mercy and goodness to move beyond our stringent sense of justice.

God’s ways are not our ways.  God reverses the categories of value and worth that we tend to erect to separate ourselves from others.  The Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard invites us not only to renounce any attitudes of resentment where the gift of God’s grace to others is concerned, but even to rejoice with all who are the beneficiaries of God’s great generosity.

 

September 23, 2007
The Parable of the Unmerciful Servant (Matthew 18:23-35)

As the final parable in chapter 18 of Matthew’s Gospel, the Parable of the Unmerciful Servant is also the evangelist’s first major dramatic parable.  The narrative is introduced by a saying on forgiveness, in which Peter asks Jesus: "Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him?  As many as seven times?" to which Jesus responds, "I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times" (18:21-22).  We note that our parable, while following upon Peter’s question, goes beyond the question, "How often?" and deals with the precondition of forgiveness rather than the number of times forgiveness must be extended.

The parable can be seen as a drama that unfolds in several acts: a debtor-servant, owing a huge amount, is summoned to his master, a king; the king, moved with compassion at the servant’s pleading, forgives him his entire debt since he was unable to pay it; this same servant meets up with a fellow servant and demands payment of a debt owed to him; the servant, unable to pay his debt, is dealt with unmercifully; the king learns of what has transpired, summons again the debtor-servant, rebukes him, and deals with him severely.  The drama is capped with an epilogue in which Jesus teaches that the heavenly Father’s generous forgiveness will, at the final judgment, be extended only to those who imitated his forgiveness by their own.

The power of this parable emerges gradually as the story engages us with its characters.  At first, our sympathies are drawn to the debtor-servant.  Something of an ominous tone is struck with the description of this servant as one who is "brought" before the king who wished "to settle accounts" with his servants.  The disquiet of this scene is further heightened when we learn that the servant owed a huge amount which he had no way of paying back, causing the king to issue a most severe punishment.  The real enormity of the servant’s debt, literally "ten thousand talents," is revealed when we realize that the annual income of Herod the Great was about nine thousand talents, and that taxes for Galilee and Perea were two hundred talents a year.  A debt of ten thousand talents would have evoked a great gasp, for it was simply an unpayable debt.

Our image of the heartless master, the king, begins to change when the servant pleads for patience and promises to pay back his debt in full ― an obviously empty promise, given the size of the debt.  The king is now depicted as someone capable of great compassion and pity, even to the point of forgiving the debt in whole.

The sympathy we feel for the debtor-servant now alters as we see him chance upon a fellow servant who owed him "a much smaller amount," literally, a hundred denarii.  The debt, in itself, is not to be seen as inconsequential when we appreciate that one denarius was the equivalent of a day’s wage and that 15 years of daily wages amounted to one talent.  Nevertheless, the contrast between the two debts is immense.  A rough demand for payment is made of the second servant who likewise falls on his knees, pleads for patience, and promises to pay the debt, a debt that could actually be repaid.  But the first servant refuses any show of pity and has his debtor thrown into prison.  The sympathy we initially felt for the first servant has changed to revulsion.

The servants who witnessed this deeply disturbing scene report the whole incident to the king in the hope of redressing the affair.  The king calls in the first servant, reminds him of the great forgiveness extended to him, and reasons that he should have shown a like forgiveness to his fellow servant.  The parable ends on a note of tragic irony in as much as the first servant now has what he originally requested, time to pay his debt, only now his time will be spent in prison and at the hands of torturers.  Since the debt is unpayable, the implication is that his punishment will be endless.

What we see unfold in this parable in the interaction of its characters is an interplay of justice, mercy, and forgiveness ― a mercy and forgiveness, however, that go far beyond expectation.  The recipient of the king’s mercy and forgiveness takes these great gifts for granted; he is unchanged by them, as his subsequent behavior toward a fellow servant reveals.  However, his strict "justice" toward a fellow servant must be accounted for; the king rebukes him for not seeing that the mercy that was "right" in his case was also owed to his fellow servant.  Behind the image of the "king" or "master" in the parable is the God proclaimed by Jesus, one who requires people to be merciful and forgiving because they themselves have been granted mercy and forgiveness.

The concluding words of Jesus (18:35) emphasize that our forgiveness of others must be "from the heart" ― a warning that the Gospel must truly transform our innermost dispositions; otherwise we shall act in much the same fashion as the first servant and suffer the same fate.

 

August 26, 2007
The Parable of the Lost Sheep (Matthew 18:12-14)

This has been called the simplest of all Jesus’ parables: a sheep wanders away from the fold, gets lost, and is sought and found by the shepherd of the flock.  Such an occurrence, in ancient Judea, was not uncommon on the pasture lands of the hill country.  Only a few miles across, the grazing lands were narrow, without natural enclosures and somewhat sparse in pasturage.  The sheep, if they strayed from the grass of the plateau, were liable to meander into ravines or onto high ledges where escape would prove difficult.  An experienced shepherd had little trouble tracking down lost sheep, and was prepared to brave the dangers of rugged cliffs to rescue a stray.

In Jesus’ day, sheep were often kept in communal flocks.  They were the possession, not of an individual but of an entire village.  This meant that a flock would be herded by several shepherds at a time, making it possible for one shepherd to leave the flock ("the ninety-nine") in the care of fellow shepherds and go in search of a stray.  A good shepherd was prepared to make the most strenuous and even sacrificial of efforts to retrieve a lost sheep.  It is no surprise, then, that the good shepherd was Jesus’ favorite image of God and of God’s love for all humans, even sinners.

The Parable of the Lost Sheep conveys several telling characteristics of God’s love for humanity.  First of all, it is a personal love, a love of great concern directed to the individual.  Just as a good parent of a large family would never take an attitude of indifference toward a son or daughter who drifted into some difficulty or threatening life-situation, so a good shepherd would never be content that ninety-nine of the flock were safe and sound, and discount the loss of only one. He would scour the hillsides, cliffs, and ravines in search of the lost one; he would make every effort to return it to the flock.  Such is God’s love for each of us, even when we stray spiritually.

Moreover, God’s love is a love filled with patience.  Sheep, being skittish creatures, are susceptible to behaving in an unpredictable and foolish manner.  The shepherd, then, can never take the attitude that the sheep has only itself to blame if it wanders into danger.  The sheep’s foolishness will not be reason for the shepherd’s unconcern and neglect.  The shepherd’s long-suffering and forbearance are a touching picture of God’s great patience with us humans ― creatures who, endowed with free will, have only ourselves to blame for our sins, but who nonetheless are pursued by God.

Lastly, God’s love is a love marked by rejoicing.  Jesus said that the shepherd has greater joy over the lost sheep that has been found than over the ninety-nine that did not go astray.  Here, there is nothing of harsh words, rough handling, or beating ― only rejoicing.  How unlike the reaction of the parable’s shepherd is the behavior of persons who, when dealing with a delinquent, are prone to attitudes of recrimination and contempt.  But that is his embrace.  On the contrary, "God does not always rebuke, nurses no lasting anger, does not deal with us as our sins deserve" (Ps 103:9-10).  When we have strayed and are once again found, all is rejoicing.

What great reassurance and consolation is offered us in the Parable of the Lost Sheep!  Even though we may wander into the foolishness and deception of sin or lose our way spiritually, the Good Shepherd’s eye is always trained on us; his concern and love are ever fixed on us, seeking to rescue us with great patience and bring us home with joy.

 

July 29, 2007
The Parable of the Net (Matthew 13:47-50)

The Parable of the Net, which is peculiar to Matthew, reiterates motifs from the parable concerning the wheat and the weeds: the kingdom of God, in its present manifestation, includes both the good and the bad; but at the "close of the age" the righteous will be separated from the wicked.  Again, Jesus sets before his audience the tasks of everyday life to provoke reflection on spiritual realities.

In Palestine, in ancient times, there were two principal methods of fishing.  The first method involved the use of a hand-net that was cast from the shore.  When a school of fish was in sight, the fisherman skillfully threw out his net and allowed its leaded circumference to strike the water’s bottom.  The net with its catch was then drawn to shore.

The second method, the one referred to in this parable, was the dragnet, also called a seine.  The seine-net was a very large oblong net having floats at the top edge and weights at the bottom.  Certain members of a fishing group would stand on the shore paying out the net, while others in a boat would lead the other end of the net round in a circle till the circle was closed, the boat returning to the point of departure.  At rest in the water, the net hung in a vertical position.  Then, with its bottom first brought tight to prevent the fish from escaping, the net was pulled in.

The use of the dragnet was very familiar to at least several of Jesus’ disciples.  They themselves had frequently employed this fishing technique; they were practiced at drawing the squirming catch to shore and then sorting it.  Fish without scales and fins, forbidden as food by the Levitical law, were discarded; edible fish were set aside to sell.  The disciples were, no doubt, struck by the aptness of Jesus’ imagery to describe the event of God’s kingdom.

Two great lessons are set before us in this parable.  Firstly, a dragnet, by its nature, cannot discriminate in regard to the fish caught.  As the net makes its way through the water, it is bound to draw in all kinds of fish.  This image reminds us that the church, the instrument of God’s kingdom on earth, is bound to be a mixture of many kinds of people, the good and the bad, the fervent and the lukewarm, the productive and the ineffectual.  This parable is a strong reminder that we must resist the notion of a church composed exclusively of the "perfect" and "worthy."  As we had occasion to say when considering the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds, in its present stage the kingdom of God, in its earthly manifestation, the church, is necessarily a mixture of the good and the bad.

Secondly, the parable teaches that the time of separation, the bad from the good, will eventually come ― a time of judgment when the just and the wicked will be sent to their respective designations.  However, that separation and judgment is not the responsibility of humans but of God.  For the present, it is the church’s task to invite, welcome, instruct, and exhort all who will come in; and, of course, rebuke those of its members who stray (Lk 17:3; 1 Tm 5:20).  Final judgment, however, must be left to God.

Finally, we should be aware that no parable does justice to all the facts and complexities of life.  No concept of predestination can be drawn from the image of the dragnet that gathers into itself both the good and the bad, the good to be saved, the bad to be thrown away.  We humans are endowed with the God-given gift of freedom; we can choose to live or refuse to live for him who draws the net.

 

July 8, 2007
The Parable of the Precious Pearl (Matthew 13:45-46)

This parable concerning the pearl of great price is twin with that of the hidden treasure, but it has significant differences.  The "hero" in the Parable of the Hidden Treasure was not a man of means ― he had, out of necessity, to sell all his possessions to buy the field ― whereas the merchant in search of fine pearls was, apparently, a relatively wealthy individual, and perhaps a connoisseur of pearls.  The plowman did not expect to find anything, but the merchant was on the lookout for a surpassing jewel.  Yet, the focused truth of the parable is the same: it is worth every effort to come into possession of it.

In the ancient world, pearls had a certain fascination for those who could afford them.  Pearls were prized not only for their money value but also for their beauty.  People found pleasure in handling a pearl and admiring its luster.  Perhaps the fascination of this jewel stemmed, in part, from the fact that it originated in far-off places like the shores of the Red Sea, which for the people of Palestine at the time of Jesus was the main source of pearls.  A merchant, however, might scour the markets of quite distant lands in search of a pearl of surpassing beauty.

It is quite suggestive that Jesus would compare the kingdom of heaven to a pearl.  To the people of the ancient world, a pearl was, as we said, a greatly prized possession, something of value, beauty, and delight.  So the kingdom of heaven, in a far surpassing way, is a reality of value, beauty, and delight.

To possess this reality, to live within its actuality is to open one’s mind, heart, and soul lovingly to the will of God.  This means that the giving of one’s will and life to God does not entail anything that is grim, gloomy, and agonizing; it is, rather, a thing of satisfaction and blessedness.

Beyond the discipline, the sacrifice, the self-denial, the "cross" that every true follower of Jesus must shoulder, there lies the supreme goodness, truth, and beauty that is to be found nowhere else.  There is only one way to bring peace to one’s heart, truth to one’s mind, joy and beauty to one’s life, and that is to open one’s self absolutely to the will and love of God.

Suggestive, also, is Jesus’ reference in this parable to "a pearl of great price."  There are other pearls, but only one pearl of great price.  In other words, there are many fine things in this world and many things in which a person can find goodness, beauty, and delight.

Such things, for example, can be found in knowledge and intellectual exploration, in literature, art, and music.  They are to be found in human relationships and close friendships as well as in the service of one’s fellow men and women.  All such things are sources from which it is possible to derive an experience of goodness, beauty, and delight; but they pale before the supreme goodness, beauty, and delight of God’s kingdom.

In both the Parable of the Hidden Treasure and the Parable of the Precious Pearl, the protagonist "goes and sells all that he has" to obtain his great discovery.  The renunciation involved, however, is not without a joy and satisfaction in finally possessing the treasure and the precious pearl.  With these parables, Jesus assures his original disciples, and us, that our renunciations for the sake of attaining "the kingdom of heaven" will have their reward.

 

June 17, 2007
The Parable of the Hidden Treasure (Matthew 13:44)

Again, with the Parable of the Hidden Treasure, Jesus uses imagery that was familiar to his audience.  Finding a treasure in a field was a real possibility.  Banks existed in the ancient world, but they were not such as the real average person would use.  Ordinary people believed that the ground was the safest place to keep possessions of worth.

Secreting one’s valuables in a garden or field was common practice, especially in times of civil unrest or war.  This would be done before fleeing a danger at hand and in the firm hope that the day would come when the hidden valuables could be retrieved.  Josephus Flavius, the Jewish historian and statesman, speaks of "the gold and the silver . . . which the Jews had, and which the owners treasured up underground against the uncertain fortunes of war."

Without a doubt, the treasure in the field is the bright focus of this parable.  The finder did not display exemplary ethics when he purchased the field while still keeping the owner in ignorance about the buried trove; but the man’s character has nothing to do with the point of the parable.  Rather, the point is that the finder is ready to sacrifice whatever he must to obtain something of supreme value.  To be noted, also, is the joy that the finder experiences over his discovery.  With this parable, the disciples of Jesus are reminded that giving up everything is an essential part of discipleship, but that such a sacrifice entails the aspect of joy.  The disciples, then, must have a steadfast regard for the "treasure" which they already possess in being followers of Jesus, and alongside which all else is to be counted for nothing.

A reflection on the Parable of the Hidden Treasure might have us note that the man in the parable was, apparently, not looking for the treasure.  He did not expect to find it, but was taken by surprise.  Perhaps this is instructive for our experience of the Christian life.  Perhaps our spiritual life has been drifting in doldrums, our religious duties are done perfunctorily, our relationship with God is cool, our prayer is dry.  Then we are taken by surprise; God, in his great goodness, gives us a new start.  God sets before us the treasure of an intense attraction for fullness of life in the grace of Christ, and it is ours to possess if we are prepared to pursue it with the whole of our mind and heart.  We are reminded, here, of what Saint Paul, echoing the prophet Isaiah, has God declare: "I was found by those who were not seeking me; I revealed myself to those who were not asking for me" (Rom 10:20).

Also to be noted is how Matthew has Jesus use present tense verbs in describing the reaction of the one who finds the treasure: "he goes, . . . sells, . . . buys" ― a way of showing the man’s eagerness and joy.  Life shaped by the Gospel and lived in the radiance of God’s kingdom is a supreme spiritual treasure.  Once we have truly discovered and selflessly embraced this treasure, we are compelled to say with Paul, "Whatever gains I once had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ" . . . "For to me life is Christ, and death is gain" (Phil 3:7, 1:21).

 

June 10, 2007
The Parable of the Leaven (Matthew 13:33)

As we had occasion to say when we began our consideration of the Gospel parables, Jesus drew his parables from the scenes and activities of everyday life.  He set before his hearers things that were entirely familiar to them in order to lead them to things they had never thought of.  He took the Parable of the Sower from the farmer’s field, and the Parable of the Mustard Seed from the gardener’s yard.  He took the Parable of the Wheat and the Darnel from the perennial problem that confronted farmers in the struggle with weeds, and the Parable of the Hidden Treasure from the everyday task of digging in a field.  But in the Parable of the Leaven, Jesus came nearer home than in any other because he took it from the kitchen of an ordinary house.

In Palestine, bread was baked at home, and three measures of meal would have been the average amount needed for a baking for a family of several people.  Jesus took his parable concerning the kingdom from something he had frequently seen his mother do.  Leaven was a little piece of dough kept over from a previous baking, which had fermented in the keeping.

In the language and thought of the Jewish people, leaven was frequently connected with an evil influence.  Fermentation was associated with decay, and leaven represented what was evil.  For example, in his first letter to the Corinthians as well as in his letter to the Galatians, Saint Paul uses leaven as a metaphor for the corruptive influence of evil (1 Cor 5:6-8; Gal 5:9).  One of the preparatory ceremonies for the feast of Passover was the seeking out and the burning of every scrap of leaven in a household.

It may well be that Jesus deliberately chose the image of leaven in teaching about God’s kingdom; hearing the kingdom of God compared to leaven was bound to have a jarring effect on his audience.  The shock of such an unusual and unexpected image would arouse interest and rivet attention.

The whole point of the Parable of the Leaven lies in one thing, namely, the transforming power of the leaven, an ingredient that changed the character of a whole baking.  Unleavened bread, such as is used in the Jewish Seder, is hard, dry, and not especially appetizing.  Bread baked with leaven, especially when the bread is fresh, is spongy, fragrant, and tasty.  If the introduction of leaven causes a transformation in the dough, the coming of God’s kingdom causes a transformation in life.

Christian history offers a powerful witness to the transforming capability of the Gospel.  Besides the remarkable transformation that Christianity wrought in individual lives, there are the revolutionary changes that Christianity brought about by its care for the sick, the aged, and the physically and mentally disabled, as well as by its defense of the inherent rights of women and children.

Almost all Scripture scholars agree that the Parable of the Leaven speaks of the transforming power of Christ and of his kingdom, but there is a difference as to how that transforming power works.  Some believe that the lesson of the parable is that the kingdom works unseen.  Just as the work of the leaven, though unseen, is always going on, so the work of the kingdom, the active presence of Christ, his grace and his Gospel in the world, is always going on.  The lesson to draw from this, then, is one of encouragement.

Others, however, believe that far from being unseen, the working of the kingdom can be plainly seen.  If leaven is placed into dough, its work is plain for all to see; it changes the dough from a passive lump into a bubbling and heaving mass.  Just so, the working of the kingdom in the world is a manifest and restless force that is plain for all to see, a force that frequently arouses suspicion, resentment, and opposition.

Both views in regard to this parable are, of course, true.  There are aspects of the kingdom, of the power of Christ and of his Spirit, that work quietly within human minds and hearts, and have an effect within human society.  And then there are aspects of that kingdom that reveal themselves evidently and strikingly in individual lives and leave their mark on history as it unfolds.

There is a sense in which these two aspects of the kingdom find expression in the rhythm of our own Christian lives as they sometimes conceal and sometimes reveal the mystery of the growth of God’s grace within us.

 

June, 3, 2007
The Parable of the Wheat Among the Weeds (Matthew 13:24-30)

With this installment of Pondering the Parables, we move from the Gospel of Mark to the Gospel of Matthew.  In contrast to Mark, Matthew has a great number of parables, many of which are impressive narratives wherein human actions and decisions engage the hearer.  Matthew loves the grand scale; for example, the treasure and the pearl exceed all value (13:44-46), and the ten bridesmaids are the retinue for a rich man’s daughter (25:1-13).  Also, Matthew exhibits a fondness for "end of time" imagery to underscore the crucial life decisions occasioned by the teaching of Jesus.  The stakes are heaven or hell, darkness, weeping, and gnashing of teeth.  Dramatic interaction, imaginative language, and religious awe provide the grand setting of the theological world Matthew wishes to convey.

A striking thrust in the Parable of the Wheat among the Weeds, a parable peculiar to Matthew, is the contrast between the householder who waits until the harvest and the servants who are eager to root out the weeds at first sight.  Also, the parable contains the paradox that the action of the enemy, which was meant to harm the owner of the field, ends by benefiting him in as much as the weeds are used for fuel.

The series of pictures within this parable was familiar to the people of Palestine.  The weed in question was the bearded darnel, a vegetation curse against which farmers had to labor.  In its early stages, the bearded darnel resembled wheat so closely that it was impossible to distinguish the one from the other.  It was only when they had grown to maturity that it became possible to tell them apart.  By that time, however, their roots were so intertwined that the darnel could not be pulled out without tearing up the wheat with them.  But the two had to be separated because if the darnel, a poisonous plant, were ground up with the wheat, it contaminated the flour; and any bread made with such flour caused nausea if eaten.

The picture of a man deliberately sowing darnel in the field of an enemy is by no means far fetched.  Such a thing was actually done out of personal vengeance, and it was considered a crime for which Roman law prescribed penalties.  Even today, in certain countries of the Near East, one of the direct threats a man can make to an enemy is: "I will sow bad seed in your field."

For all its simplicity, the parable is one of the most practical ever told by Jesus, and contains important lessons.  The refusal of the householder to allow his servants to separate the wheat from the weeds, while they were still growing, is a warning to the disciples, and of course to us, not to attempt to anticipate the final judgment of God by a definite exclusion of sinners from the kingdom.  In its present stage, that kingdom ― we must think, here, of the church also ― is composed of the good and the bad.  It is not to be thought of as a community of the pure or righteous only.

The parable clearly conveys the truth that though evil individuals may seem to thrive in this world and be exempt from indications of divine judgment, judgment will indeed come when God will separate the sinful from the good (Mt 25:31-46).  Until then, there must be patience and the preaching of repentance; there must be mercy, forgiveness, and the refusal to judge and condemn.

 

May 5, 2007
The Parable of the Doorkeeper (Mark 13:33-37)

The Parable of the Doorkeeper brings us to the last of the parables found in the Gospel of Mark.  The parable, as originally spoken by Jesus, was probably a simple exhortation to watchfulness in the face of the advent of God’s kingdom.  Some Scripture scholars, however, believe that in his recounting of the parable, Mark intends an allegory about the life of the Christian community between the resurrection and the final coming of Jesus.

By the phrasing of the introductory verse (13:33) and by the addition of important details, Mark gives a distinctive meaning to this parable.  He begins with Jesus’ words: "Be watchful!  Be alert!  You do not know when the time will come."  These very first words link this parable with three other places in Jesus’ "end of time" discourse where Mark, in effect, warns his community to be observant and to exercise watchful care in light of the final coming of Jesus that was thought to be imminent.

Mark compares the life of his community to a situation where a man, later identified as "lord of the house" (13:35), goes on a distant journey.  This is intended as a metaphor for the absence of Jesus before his final return.  Before the lord of the house leaves on his journey, he entrusts his authority to his servants and in particular to the doorkeeper.  This imagery makes us recall that Jesus’ first appearance in Mark’s Gospel is as one who possesses a new teaching with authority (1:22, 27) and as the "Son of Man" who has power to forgive sin.  When Jesus issues his call to his disciples, he bestows power on them.  Also, we should note that the parable’s description of the servants placed in charge not only reflects early Christian usage, such as we find in the letters of Saint Paul, but also recalls Jesus’ command to the disciples to be servants of all, after the example of the Son of Man who came not to be served but to serve (10:45).  The power of authority, in Mark’s community, is to be expressed in service.

The brief indication that the lord of the house leaves the servants with power, "each with his work," has wider significance.  The phrase initially suggests that there are different tasks to be performed in the community even though they all share the same power.  We have, here, a perspective similar to Saint Paul’s description of different gifts and different ministries, all inspired "by one and the same Spirit" (1 Cor 12:4-11).  The tasks entrusted to the servants in the parable are both received from the lord of the house and carried out on his behalf.  From this, we conclude that tasks within the Christian community include both service within the community as well as missionary activity.

Approaching the parable from the angle of allegory, the household language used by Mark links this parable with other parts of his Gospel.  Mark reveals a number of places where significant events take place in a "house," such as healings and private instructions to the disciples.  Worthy of note, also, is the fact that "house" is a designation for the community itself.  Mark also uses household and family imagery to describe doing the will of God, as in 3:31-35 where those who do the will of God are seen as Jesus’ new family; also, in 10:28-31 the disciples who have left all to follow Jesus receive a new family along with houses.  Since we know from other passages of the New Testament, e.g., 1 Cor 16:19, that the first Christian meeting places were "house churches," we may assume that Mark’s community was such, and that our parable is an allegory of Christian life centered in house churches prior to the return of Jesus.

The Parable of the Doorkeeper has enduring significance for us Christians.  We simply do not know the day of the Lord’s return into our life (through personal death).  Whatever our position in Christ’s church, whether that of "doorkeeper" or of simple "servant," we must exercise spiritual watchfulness and application to our tasks.  Jesus’ concluding command must continually resound in our ears: "I say to all: ‘Watch!’"

 

April 29, 2007
The Parable of the Fig Tree (Mark 13:28, 29)

The Parable of the Fig Tree and the Parable of the Doorkeeper (Mk 13:33-37) conclude Jesus’ discourse concerning his return at the end of the world.  The discourse is a final testament of Jesus before his passion and death.

The illustration in the parable that concerns us here is the budding fig tree.  In Palestine, the fig tree is distinguished from other trees by completely shedding its leaves in winter, so that its first budding is a sign of the return of summer which comes quickly after a short spring.  The significance of the example chosen by Jesus, the fig tree, is due to its predictability.  In contrast to the fig tree, the almond tree may often flower prematurely and have its flowers withered by a late frost.  In recording this parable of Jesus, the evangelist Mark is exhorting his community, a community expecting the final and even imminent coming to Jesus, to be watchful, observant, and persevering in faith.

The discourse of Jesus, which concluded with the parables of the Fig Tree and the Doorkeeper, began with a prediction that the temple in Jerusalem would be destroyed (13:2) ― a prediction that precipitated a double question by the disciples: "When will this be, and what will be the sign when these things are to be accomplished?" (13:4).  In the first major section of Jesus’ discourse, traditional "end of time" motifs ― wars, earthquakes, plagues, and famines ― are taken up.  These motifs are meant to signal the end of history; and that period is to be characterized by persecution and the profanation and destruction of the temple (13:9-23), after which there will be cosmic disturbances preceding the return of the Son of Man in order to gather the elect from the ends of the earth (13:24-27).

Mark narrates this discourse of Jesus in view of problems that were alive in his community.  Mark does not want his community to view the wars, civil disturbances, and persecutions that preceded the destruction of the temple in 70 A.D. as the sign of the return of Jesus, as some claimed.  These things, as Jesus himself foretold, are only the antecedents to the end (13:7, 8) and the end will come only "after that tribulation" (13:24).  Mark counters those in his community, or individuals known by his community, who interpreted the destruction of the temple as the final days and claimed that in some way Jesus had returned and that his power and authority were being manifested (13:21, 22).  Mark uses the concluding parables to counter such claims with a proper understanding of the "end of time" and a perspective on life in community prior to the return of Jesus.

With the Scripture passage that we have just cited, Mark wishes to present a balanced understanding of the end of time and the Lord’s return.  Mark simply declares that the consummation of time and history, when the Son of Man will return, is as near as the summer after the budding of the fig tree ― no more than that.  In contrast to an enthusiasm that would claim that the "end time" has arrived and that Christ has returned, Mark says that the words of Jesus cannot be invoked to determine the precise day and hour of his return (13:32).  That precise day and hour must remain unknown to us; but that the Lord Jesus will return is as certain as the return of summer after the budding of the fig tree.  Christians, then, are to await the Lord’s return with great assurance and faithful vigilance.

 

March 11, 2007
The Parable of the Wicked Tenants (Mk 12:1-11)

This parable is actually a "hybrid," a cross between a parable and an allegory.  Though not all the details of the story have an inner meaning, they reveal such a meaning more than usual.  This is so because Jesus was employing images, situations, and facts that were part and parcel of Jewish thought and experience.

The story that Jesus narrates concerns something that could well happen in the Palestine of his day.  The country had much labor unrest and many absentee landlords.  The owner of the vineyard that is described might be someone who had sought a more comfortable location than Palestine.  If the owner followed the law, the first time for collecting the rental would be five years after the planting of the vineyard.  In such a case, the rental was paid in kind.  It might be a fixed and agreed percentage of the crop, or it might be a stated amount, irrespective of what the crop came to.

The persons and other details of the narrative are quite easily identified.  The owner of the vineyard is God, and the vineyard itself the people of Israel ― a picture with which Jews were perfectly familiar.  In the Old Testament, it is vividly depicted in Isaiah 5:1-7, a passage from which some of the details and language of our parable are taken.  This vineyard was fully equipped.  There was a wall to mark out boundaries, to keep out robbers, and to defend it from the assaults of wild animals.  There was a winepress, in which the grapes were crushed with the feet, and a wine vat into which the pressed-out juice flowed.  There was also a tower in which the wine was stored and the tenant farmers took shelter, and from which was kept watch for robbers at harvest time.

The tenant farmers represent the religious authorities throughout the history of the Jewish nation.  The servants sent by the vineyard owner stand for Israel’s prophets; also, the term servant is applied both to Moses (Jos 14:7) and to David (2 Sm 3:18).  The son is Jesus himself, the one who is seized, taken outside the vineyard (Jerusalem), and killed.

The parable contains such a wealth of truths that we can dwell on only a few of them here.  For one thing, the parable reveals the generosity, the trust, the patience, and the justice of God.  The vineyard was equipped with everything necessary to make the work of the tenant farmers easy and profitable.  Overall, human life and creation reveal the abundance of God’s gifts.  The owner of the vineyard went away and left the tenant farmers to tend to the vineyard themselves.  God trusts us enough to make our own way through life with much freedom of action.  Moreover, the owner gave the tenant farmers many chances to pay the debt they owed; he treated them with a patience they little deserved.  Finally, humans may take advantage of God’s patience, but in the end comes judgment and justice.

Central to the parable, however, is what it says about Jesus.  In the context of the parable, Jesus regarded himself not as one of the "servants" but as the "son."  Jesus was not in the succession of Israel’s prophets, but was God’s Son, his last and final word spoken to his people.  The parable was a deliberate challenge to the Jewish authorities because it contained the unmistakable claim of Jesus to be the Messiah.  Besides, the parable tells us that Jesus knew that he was to die violently.  The cross did not come to him as a surprise.  He knew that the way he had chosen could have no other ending.

Lastly, the parable tells us that Jesus was sure of his ultimate triumph.  He knew that his mistreatment and death would not be the end but that after the rejection would come the glory.  Jesus, "the stone which the builders rejected" (Ps 118:22), became the cornerstone.  He who was regarded as insignificant to human beings has become the foundational reality of the world’s re-creation.  This foundational reality was, in the eyes of the New Testament writers such as Luke, Paul, and Peter, Jesus in his salvific dying and rising.

With this parable, Jesus, who represents God as the one who longs for a loving response from us humans, summons us to a conversion, and warns us of the consequences of rejecting God’s continued behest to us.  The parable invites us to think of ourselves as the vineyard workers, confronted by a God who, in his Son, continually seeks us, but one whom we are capable of rejecting.

 

February 11, 2007
The Parable of the Mustard Seed (Mk 4:30-32)

There are in this parable two pictures that every Jew of Jesus’ day would readily recognize.  First, in Palestine a grain of mustard seed, though not the smallest of seeds, stood proverbially for the smallest possible thing.  This very small seed did in fact grow into something like a tree, attaining a height of seven or eight feet.  Also, birds were very fond of the little black seeds of this shrub, and a cloud of birds hovering over and settling on a mustard plant was a common sight.

Second, in the Old Testament one of the most common ways of describing a great kingdom was to depict it as a tree; and subsidiary nations within it were said to be like birds finding shelter within the shadow of its branches (Ez 17:22ff; 31:1ff).  The figure of a tree with birds in its branches stands for a great kingdom and the many nations that form part of it.

In comparing the kingdom of God to a tiny mustard seed, Jesus is telling his hearers, and especially his disciples, that they must not be daunted by small beginnings.  Even the kingdom of God begins by producing a small effect; but if that effect is repeated many times over, it will become very great.  Jesus’ small band of disciples, called upon to announce and promote God’s kingdom according to Jesus’ teaching and example, were people of ordinary social status and of limited means; yet, the cumulative effect of their small but dedicated efforts would ultimately produce an amazing result.  Jesus’ disciples are to understand that the kingdom of God must begin in a very small and almost hidden manner, but its eventual growth will be greatly disproportionate to its beginnings and will bring forth surprising results.

Christian history offers an astonishing commentary on this parable.  The church, the historical embodiment of God’s kingdom, had a tiny beginning: the work of an obscure itinerant preacher named Jesus and of a small group of disciples, twelve very ordinary men; and yet, this small entity has become "the greatest of all shrubs."  No limits can be set on the accomplishments of a small group of individuals whose lives are imbued with the grace of the kingdom, possessed by the Spirit of God, and dedicated utterly to the person of Christ.  For nearly two thousand years, we see in history the divine impulsion upon humanity and the world.  We can see the tiny beginnings in Saint Paul, journeying to Athens and Rome; face to face with the overwhelming intellectual and political powers of his time.  We can see it also in the church’s great missionary saints: Patrick, Boniface, Cyril and Methodius, Isaac Jogues, Junipero Serra ― to name only a few.

Jesus’ Parable of the Mustard Seed was evidently given to reassure his disciples that the apparently meager results of his preaching and ministry are no measure by which to judge the greatness of the kingdom of God that he proclaims.  The growth of this kingdom is of God’s determination and providence, but that it will grow and come to realization is certain.

From our historical vantage point, we are heartened to see Christ’s church, the temporal expression of God’s kingdom, implanted in every part of the world and encompassing every race and nationality.  Also, like the birds of the parable, we delight in having spiritual nourishment, protection, and refreshment in the "shade" of his church.

 

January 14, 2007
The Parable of the Seed Growing Slowly (Mk 4:26-29)

Here we have a parable that is found only in the Gospel of Mark.  It is also the first parable that Mark explicitly calls a kingdom parable.

Like the Parable of the Sower, this parable admits of several points of interest in its interpretation.  There is an initial contrast between the inactivity of the farmer who simply scatters the seed and then returns to the rhythm of this daily activities and the dynamic activity of the seed.  The description of the seed as sprouting and growing, without the farmer knowing how, suggests that the central thrust, here, is the mystery of growth.  On the other hand, as verse eight states: the earth yields fruit "of its own accord" ― which underscores the power of the earth and the seed.  The final verse of the parable announces that the ripening of the grain is the signal for the harvest to begin so that no time should be lost: "he wields the sickle at once."

As has been said, the text of the parable lends itself to a wide range of interpretive possibilities, and through the centuries Christians have articulated many interpretations.  Some commentators have placed the emphasis on the harvest, suggesting that the conclusion of time and history is realized in the coming of Jesus.  Others have stressed the contrast between the inactivity of the farmer and the certainty of the harvest.  In other words, it is a parable of assurance that the final "end of time" realities (appearance of Christ, judgment, etc.) begun in the ministry of Jesus are manifesting themselves, and nothing can be done to hasten their arrival.  Still other commentators have suggested that the parable was meant to counter a zealot-like impulse to hasten the arrival of God’s kingdom through the use of force; but patient waiting, and not violent activity, brings the harvest.

As in the Parable of the Sower, a lulling effect is conveyed by the picture of the farmer who follows the natural rhythms of life ― sleep and rising, night and day ― juxtaposed with the rhythms of the growth of vegetation: "first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear."  This rhythmic balancing recalls the rhythms of times in the book Ecclesiastes, "a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted" (3:2); there is God’s time and human time.  In Jesus’ parable, these times inter-sect when the grain is ripe and the harvest has come ― an image with strong overtones of end-of-time judgment.  Now is the time for the rhythm of nature to cease and for the farmer to take action.

With this parable, Jesus offers a simple proclamation of God’s kingdom.  He invites his original hearers, and us, his present-day hearers, to connect with the images he sets before them ― to see their daily lives mirrored in the parable.  God’s activity and power have their times and rhythms, and human activity cannot control or hasten their manifestation.  On the other hand, we are summoned to think of a new time when God’s reign and season of grace may intersect with our lives and shake up their ordinary and tranquil rhythm.  Then is the time for immediate and generous response on our part.

 

December 17, 2006
The Parable of the Sower (Mk 4:3-8)

We begin our consideration of the parables of Jesus with the first of six parables found in the Gospel According to Mark, the Parable of the Sower.  We have here a little narrative that paints a rather simple and idyllic picture.  In what seems a haphazard manner, a sower goes out into a field and scatters seed.  The parable describes the failure of three sowings: that which fell on the path and was devoured by birds; that which landed on rocky ground and was scorched by the sun because it had no roots; and that which dropped among thorns and was eventually choked.  One-fourth of the seed, however, yields a harvest that is not only bountiful but also extraordinary, since a tenfold yield was a very good harvest indeed.

This is a parable that lends itself to various interpretations.  Some Scripture scholars maintain that its common designation, Parable of the Sower, is the least apt, because the sower is simply mentioned and does not appear as a dramatic character.  He does not rejoice in the bountiful harvest nor does he order it to be harvested.  Neither is it a parable of the seed as such, since it is the same seed that lands on four different locations.

Concentration on different aspects of the parable has yielded some fruitful interpretations.  Some commentators point out that since a very good harvest emerged from the seed sown on rich soil, Jesus is proclaiming that now is the time to reap the fruit of the harvest.  Others call attention to the difference between the time of sowing and that of the harvest as well as to the discrepancy between the three failures and the great harvest.  So then, in this parable Jesus is assuring his disciples that what God has begun in his ministry, despite some failures, will have ultimate success.

A close examination of the movement and images of the parable yields another and perhaps more exact interpretation.  The first three sowings are shown in their temporal progression.  Each begins with a mention of the seed itself; then proceeds to the situation that the seed encounters (path, rocky ground, thorns), and concludes with the failure of the seed to mature.  The parable creates a dramatic effect, not by simply listing the three failures in contrast to the one great harvest but by depicting a progression in the growth of the seed.  The description of the three failures first builds up the hearer’s expectation, and then shatters it.  This is the rhythmic progress of nature ― a fact that can lull the hearer into a sense of resignation about the way things unfold in nature.  But then, the description of the successful sowing explodes with verbs of motion: the seed fell, brought forth grain, grew up, increased, and yielded thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold.

The contrast between a 75% failure and an extraordinary harvest suggests that there is no comparison between the expectation people have concerning God’s kingdom and the final glorious reality and effect of that kingdom.  Jesus’ teaching about the kingdom and his activity on its behalf is something that overturns the way in which we feel that life normally operates and the usual patterns it follows.

With the Parable of the Sower, Jesus wished to move his listeners to open their hearts generously to the word of God and to expect wonderful things from the in-breaking of God’s kingdom ― a kingdom of truth and life, holiness and grace, justice, love, and peace ― into their lives and into human history.  He wishes to do the same in our regard for our hearing the parable of the sower.

 

December 3, 2006
Introduction

The parables of Jesus are passages of Scripture that we hear proclaimed with some frequency in the Gospel reading at Mass as the liturgical year unfolds.  And, of course, in our personal reading of the four Gospels, we inevitably come upon them ― and sometimes in quick succession.  The parables of Jesus, short fictitious narratives that make a moral or religious point, have perhaps struck us in a variety of ways.  Possibly they stirred our imagination, or confirmed a personal conviction, or caused us to reflect on a particular point.  Then again, perhaps they left us somewhat bewildered.  If that was their effect, they probably kindled within us a desire to deepen our understanding of them and to penetrate their meaning.  That desire, perhaps, was present but never carried through for one reason or another.  In the coming months, in this column, I would like to explain that fascinating portion of New Testament Scripture that is the parables of Jesus.

Background Information
Before we delve into Jesus’ parables as such, it would be useful to say a few words about the parable as a device in literature in general and in Scripture.  The English word parable is from a Greek word whose root connotation signifies the placing of things side by side for the sake of comparison.  As we learned in our high school literature class, comparisons fall into two general categories: the simile and the metaphor.  In a simile, one thing is likened or compared to another of a different kind for the purpose of illustration.  Often in a simile, we find the word "like" or "as"; for example, in the Gospel of Matthew we hear Jesus say, "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites.  You are like whitewashed tombs" (23:27).  This colorful method of describing something is quite common in our everyday speech.  On the other hand, metaphor is a compressed simile in which one thing is identified or equated with another, or else the qualities of one thing are directly ascribed to another.  In Matthew 5:13-14, for example, we hear Jesus exclaim: "You are the salt of the earth . . . you are the light of the world."  This figure is more literary than the simile and is frequently found in poetry.

The more elaborate forms of illustration that we find in the parable and the allegory are really expansions of the basic figures.  A parable is a developed simile in which the story, while fictitious, is true to life, differentiating a parable from a fable.  An allegory is a developed metaphor prolonged into a continuous narrative.  Ideally, the parable is distinct from allegory.  In the parable, the details and characters have no hidden meaning, the important thing being the lesson of the story.  But in practice, as a number of Gospel parables show, the traits of allegory are often present in a parable.

Jesus, the Storyteller
Jesus was a master storyteller, knowing how to make use of illustrations from daily life that attracted his hearers’ attention.  Outdoor scenes of farming and shepherding, indoor scenes in simple one-room houses, laborers and merchants at their workplace, children in the marketplace, wild and domestic animals, lamps and wineskins, harvests, fields, trees, and flowers ― all figured in parables narrated with vividness and color.

Jesus employed well the techniques of storytelling.  One of these was the "rule of three," according to which it was customary to have three characters with the point of illustration lying in the third.  We find this, for example, in the parable of the three servants entrusted with the talents (Mt 25: 14-30), and the three individuals who pass the man who fell among robbers (Lk 10:30-36).  Another technique is that of direct discourse; characters talk aloud to themselves so that the hearer may find out what is in their minds.  We have an example of this in the parable of the rich fool (Lk 12:16-21) and of the Pharisee and the publican (Lk 18:9-14).

The Purpose of Parables
Finally, we may ask: what was the purpose of Jesus’ parables?  The overwhelming evidence of the Gospels is that the parables were spoken by Jesus to give his message greater intelligibility and appeal.  If at times particular parables left individuals uncomprehending, blinded in mind and heart (Mk 4:1-12), it was more because these individuals refused their piercing challenge than because they could not be intellectually understood.

Having provided this all too brief background, we are now ready to delve into the parables narrated in the Gospels.  Our hope is that in the coming months we shall be enlightened intellectually and enriched spiritually for our pondering the parables of Jesus.

 

 

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