THE PRODIGAL SON
The parable of the prodigal son begins with a request that his father would anticipate his inheritance. The anticipation was a legitimate custom, at the time of Jesus. Through it, the hereditary successor received his legal lot before the father's death.
This means that, although conceiving a plan to use the father’s assets to enjoy the pleasures of life, the younger son is not wrong in asking the anticipation. He does not fall into sin just by using or intending to use what the world offers him. "All things are lawful" (1 Cor 6:12; 10:23). Sin arises, it shows its silhouette only when man takes the next step. When he demands what is rightfully his and strays from God. When he turns away, perhaps forever.
The departure from the father's house symbolizes the abandonment of God by the man who lives with him and knows him, though not in a vital way, which is only the way of love. To describe this voluntary abandonment, the parable adds a term which does not appear in the texts of the sheep and of the silver coin, that is, death. More than once, the father says that his son was dead and lived again, got lost and was found (Luke 15:24,32).
Here we have two evils, two consequences of desertion of God by the man who knows him. The first one is death, the other is getting lost. The parables of the sheep and of the coin focus on becoming lost. That of the prodigal son describes death. Presents it as a voluntary separation from God. The son dies while leaving his father, and revives when returns to him.
In Genesis 2, God's word to man who was created to maintain a relationship with him was: "In the day you eat thereof you shall surely die" (Gen. 2:17). In fact, when sinned, Adam and Eve were separated from God's presence. The word of God was dramatically fulfilled in their experience of death as abandonment.
The parable of the prodigal son does not tell us another experience. The drama of the child is much more serious than that of the sheep or of the coin’s owner. It is the greatest tragedy, because it leads not only to deviation, but to death itself. In the parable, death is going to a distant country and adopting a dissolute living, whereby man dissipates himself. No experience deserves more disgusting names, none deserves to be placed under the emblem of death, even of Adam’s death, as much as this one. When chooses to forsake God, no matter he sees him as a living person or as a bundle of obligations, man is over for him.
The Greek word for assets, in Luke 15:12, is generally translated essence. It was a term of deep philosophical significance in the first century. The prodigal son not only squandered his property, but lost his very essence. He dissipated himself. He died the most consummate death, the death that is most up to the name, the death which is separation from God.
And it does not matter which father or God man strays from. To the prodigal son the father of the parable was not quite different from what he was to his second child. He was no sublime figure to any of them. Was rather a bundle of legal obligations, a list of rules to be observed, a dark hell like that of the Brazilian song, thinking about which the son had chills. That father could not be and was not love. So, the son looked for love as far from him as he could. He went into hell in search of the brightest light, not realizing that darkness was not around him, but in his conscience, and would follow him everywhere.
The death of the prodigal son is not only a consequence of the abandonment of the parental home, but of his dissolution. The younger son does not realize he spends himself, when spends his fortune. So famine befalls him. This is the final stage of the soul that exchanges God for delights.
Two ideas occur to the man, in that context: add up to a citizen of the distant country, and return to his father. First, he sets in motion the purpose of joining a local citizen, thus becoming a member of a typical family of the foreign land. On departing from God, the sinner is not content to live as an outsider. He feels the urgency to multiply his aversion towards his father, adding up to a system exactly contrary to the paternal home. He has to demand the interest of his blasphemies at the bank of the world.
The problem is that, despite its brilliance, all that the system can offer is slavery and swine food. In the context of the time, the work to which the son was reduced, the care of pigs, was typical of a slave. It was not paid. Worse, the only wage he received was the husks given to pigs. Incidentally, that retribution was hardly offered him. All the son had was the desire to obtain it. It was a sigh for the beans the pigs received.
If something is hell, this is it. I do not know if some representation of Tartarus, the Greek image of hell, is worse than that. Hardly think so. But in that anticlimax, the son remembers the opposite. Remembers the father's house: "How many of my father's have bread in abundance and I perish here!" (Luke 15:17). He also compares his later state with the one he enjoyed in his father’s house.
Everyone has two and only two choices in life: to embrace the world with the brilliance it has in the beginning and the slavery and pig life of the end, or to live by the word that comes from the mouth of God. Today’s overdeveloped world intoxicates people and causes them to live as if had discovered a third option. To live as if science, technology and democratic institutions had afforded them to detach themselves from God, without falling into a brutal lifestyle. But, as always, the dream of this third position will end in a frenzied longing for pigs beans.
The end of all ages of the world is to embitter. It is to become the maddening desire for swine food. It will not be different when the curtain of time falls over the stage of science, technology and democratic institutions. Blessed is he who regains his sense and realizes it. The Greek New Testament equals this awakening of the man who has got lost to the action of "getting into himself". The son entered himself, so to speak, he regained his sense after having lost it, after having become alienated. In the Bible, to get alienated from God is to get alienated from self. So, for a man to get into himself is what we call conversion. It does not mean to improve behavior. Nor is it a kind of disoriented mystical experience. It is rather the experience of man finding himself and finding God.
Blessed are those that have Moses and the prophets, and not just keep, but hear them. Blessed are those who have the New Testament and listen to it as one who recalls a distant paradise. Blessed are those who hear both the Old and the New Testaments, though in deep doubt. Only when compares his second state with the first, the son is able to reach the third.
Before fulfilling the purpose of returning home, our man conceives the words that will express his bitter regret to his progenitor: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants "(Luke 15:18-19). Rehearses this profession of faith as catechumens learn theirs. But he has learned something quite different. He has learned how to speak it in a grieved way.
And the synthesis minimum of the bitter experience of the son contained in the precarious confession sounded so maximum to his father that he did not allow it come to an end: he threw himself upon his neck, before he concluded the painful words.
The intervention of the father shows that the effectiveness of salvation lies not in formulas that the sinner pronounces, but in the hug with which he is narrowed by God. Theological reasoning tends to associate forgiveness to formulas, but love links it to the embrace. All sins and all sinful life end in the arms of the loving Father, who constantly watches over the horizon.
If there is theology in the Bible, its purpose is not to verbalize what does not fit into words. It is not to give the shape of words to what transcends them. It is only to say that God asks us to embrace him. And to deliver to all the prodigal of the world an invitation to the embrace that forgives the unforgivable debt.
This means that, although conceiving a plan to use the father’s assets to enjoy the pleasures of life, the younger son is not wrong in asking the anticipation. He does not fall into sin just by using or intending to use what the world offers him. "All things are lawful" (1 Cor 6:12; 10:23). Sin arises, it shows its silhouette only when man takes the next step. When he demands what is rightfully his and strays from God. When he turns away, perhaps forever.
The departure from the father's house symbolizes the abandonment of God by the man who lives with him and knows him, though not in a vital way, which is only the way of love. To describe this voluntary abandonment, the parable adds a term which does not appear in the texts of the sheep and of the silver coin, that is, death. More than once, the father says that his son was dead and lived again, got lost and was found (Luke 15:24,32).
Here we have two evils, two consequences of desertion of God by the man who knows him. The first one is death, the other is getting lost. The parables of the sheep and of the coin focus on becoming lost. That of the prodigal son describes death. Presents it as a voluntary separation from God. The son dies while leaving his father, and revives when returns to him.
In Genesis 2, God's word to man who was created to maintain a relationship with him was: "In the day you eat thereof you shall surely die" (Gen. 2:17). In fact, when sinned, Adam and Eve were separated from God's presence. The word of God was dramatically fulfilled in their experience of death as abandonment.
The parable of the prodigal son does not tell us another experience. The drama of the child is much more serious than that of the sheep or of the coin’s owner. It is the greatest tragedy, because it leads not only to deviation, but to death itself. In the parable, death is going to a distant country and adopting a dissolute living, whereby man dissipates himself. No experience deserves more disgusting names, none deserves to be placed under the emblem of death, even of Adam’s death, as much as this one. When chooses to forsake God, no matter he sees him as a living person or as a bundle of obligations, man is over for him.
The Greek word for assets, in Luke 15:12, is generally translated essence. It was a term of deep philosophical significance in the first century. The prodigal son not only squandered his property, but lost his very essence. He dissipated himself. He died the most consummate death, the death that is most up to the name, the death which is separation from God.
And it does not matter which father or God man strays from. To the prodigal son the father of the parable was not quite different from what he was to his second child. He was no sublime figure to any of them. Was rather a bundle of legal obligations, a list of rules to be observed, a dark hell like that of the Brazilian song, thinking about which the son had chills. That father could not be and was not love. So, the son looked for love as far from him as he could. He went into hell in search of the brightest light, not realizing that darkness was not around him, but in his conscience, and would follow him everywhere.
The death of the prodigal son is not only a consequence of the abandonment of the parental home, but of his dissolution. The younger son does not realize he spends himself, when spends his fortune. So famine befalls him. This is the final stage of the soul that exchanges God for delights.
Two ideas occur to the man, in that context: add up to a citizen of the distant country, and return to his father. First, he sets in motion the purpose of joining a local citizen, thus becoming a member of a typical family of the foreign land. On departing from God, the sinner is not content to live as an outsider. He feels the urgency to multiply his aversion towards his father, adding up to a system exactly contrary to the paternal home. He has to demand the interest of his blasphemies at the bank of the world.
The problem is that, despite its brilliance, all that the system can offer is slavery and swine food. In the context of the time, the work to which the son was reduced, the care of pigs, was typical of a slave. It was not paid. Worse, the only wage he received was the husks given to pigs. Incidentally, that retribution was hardly offered him. All the son had was the desire to obtain it. It was a sigh for the beans the pigs received.
If something is hell, this is it. I do not know if some representation of Tartarus, the Greek image of hell, is worse than that. Hardly think so. But in that anticlimax, the son remembers the opposite. Remembers the father's house: "How many of my father's have bread in abundance and I perish here!" (Luke 15:17). He also compares his later state with the one he enjoyed in his father’s house.
Everyone has two and only two choices in life: to embrace the world with the brilliance it has in the beginning and the slavery and pig life of the end, or to live by the word that comes from the mouth of God. Today’s overdeveloped world intoxicates people and causes them to live as if had discovered a third option. To live as if science, technology and democratic institutions had afforded them to detach themselves from God, without falling into a brutal lifestyle. But, as always, the dream of this third position will end in a frenzied longing for pigs beans.
The end of all ages of the world is to embitter. It is to become the maddening desire for swine food. It will not be different when the curtain of time falls over the stage of science, technology and democratic institutions. Blessed is he who regains his sense and realizes it. The Greek New Testament equals this awakening of the man who has got lost to the action of "getting into himself". The son entered himself, so to speak, he regained his sense after having lost it, after having become alienated. In the Bible, to get alienated from God is to get alienated from self. So, for a man to get into himself is what we call conversion. It does not mean to improve behavior. Nor is it a kind of disoriented mystical experience. It is rather the experience of man finding himself and finding God.
Blessed are those that have Moses and the prophets, and not just keep, but hear them. Blessed are those who have the New Testament and listen to it as one who recalls a distant paradise. Blessed are those who hear both the Old and the New Testaments, though in deep doubt. Only when compares his second state with the first, the son is able to reach the third.
Before fulfilling the purpose of returning home, our man conceives the words that will express his bitter regret to his progenitor: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants "(Luke 15:18-19). Rehearses this profession of faith as catechumens learn theirs. But he has learned something quite different. He has learned how to speak it in a grieved way.
And the synthesis minimum of the bitter experience of the son contained in the precarious confession sounded so maximum to his father that he did not allow it come to an end: he threw himself upon his neck, before he concluded the painful words.
The intervention of the father shows that the effectiveness of salvation lies not in formulas that the sinner pronounces, but in the hug with which he is narrowed by God. Theological reasoning tends to associate forgiveness to formulas, but love links it to the embrace. All sins and all sinful life end in the arms of the loving Father, who constantly watches over the horizon.
If there is theology in the Bible, its purpose is not to verbalize what does not fit into words. It is not to give the shape of words to what transcends them. It is only to say that God asks us to embrace him. And to deliver to all the prodigal of the world an invitation to the embrace that forgives the unforgivable debt.
THE GOOD SAMARITAN
For centuries, the road from Jerusalem to Jericho was the most important transport route in Judea. H. B. Tristram described it in the following terms:
"After leaving the poor village of Bethany [beside Jerusalem], we turned left, and the descent became increasingly faster along the rocky steps [...] Two miles before reaching the plain, a canyon widened sharply, and we were dominated by abrupt and jagged cliffs, on the brink of a precipice 500 feet deep, whose wall was perforated by numerous caves [...] And at the base of those cliffs, whence the road winded down to the bottom of the valley, we considered one of the most beautiful sights of Palestine South: a lush forest that had grown after a large brown plain, and finally the Jordan "(TRISTAM. H. B. Cited in The Bible - Land, history and culture of the sacred texts. Lisbon: Del Prado, 1984. Vol. II, p. 184).
Unfortunately, robberies were common in the dusty road to Jericho. The numerous caves mentioned by Tristam served as hideout for thieves, who appeared by surprise to rob and attack travelers. So, Jesus referred to a typical scene of the time, when he pronounced the parable of the good Samaritan:
"A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who having stripped him and beaten him, went away, leaving him half dead. And by coincidence a certain priest was going down on that road: and when he saw him, he passed on the opposite side. And likewise also a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed on the opposite side. But a certain Samaritan, who was journeying, came upon him; and when he saw him, he was moved with compassion; and he came to him and bound up his wounds and poured oil and wine on them. And placing him on his own beast, he brought him to an inn and took care of him. And on the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, Take care of him, and whatever you
"After leaving the poor village of Bethany [beside Jerusalem], we turned left, and the descent became increasingly faster along the rocky steps [...] Two miles before reaching the plain, a canyon widened sharply, and we were dominated by abrupt and jagged cliffs, on the brink of a precipice 500 feet deep, whose wall was perforated by numerous caves [...] And at the base of those cliffs, whence the road winded down to the bottom of the valley, we considered one of the most beautiful sights of Palestine South: a lush forest that had grown after a large brown plain, and finally the Jordan "(TRISTAM. H. B. Cited in The Bible - Land, history and culture of the sacred texts. Lisbon: Del Prado, 1984. Vol. II, p. 184).
Unfortunately, robberies were common in the dusty road to Jericho. The numerous caves mentioned by Tristam served as hideout for thieves, who appeared by surprise to rob and attack travelers. So, Jesus referred to a typical scene of the time, when he pronounced the parable of the good Samaritan:
"A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who having stripped him and beaten him, went away, leaving him half dead. And by coincidence a certain priest was going down on that road: and when he saw him, he passed on the opposite side. And likewise also a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed on the opposite side. But a certain Samaritan, who was journeying, came upon him; and when he saw him, he was moved with compassion; and he came to him and bound up his wounds and poured oil and wine on them. And placing him on his own beast, he brought him to an inn and took care of him. And on the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, Take care of him, and whatever you
spend in addition to this, when I return, I will repay you" (Luke 10:30-35).
The parable was uttered in answer to the interpreter of the law, who had questioned Jesus about whom should be considered man’s neighbor. The answer may seem obvious today, but at that time it was the subject of an intense debate. Rabbis and scribes questioned each other whether the care of neighbors should be extended only to Jews or also to foreigners. And, if it was due also to foreigners, as the Torah established, which variety of people should be included in the concept of non-Jewish? For example, after having departed from the worship in Jerusalem, should the Samaritans still be an object of Jewish solidarity?
In answering the question of his inquirer, Jesus did not refute the notion of proximity based on blood relations, physical neighborhood or religious position (Samaritan, Levite or priest), since a nation needs these criteria to make visible the boundaries of solidarity among its citizens. Showed, however, that human closeness should transcend these criteria to be based mainly on compassion for others in real situations of life.
The need for this teaching may sound strange to us, since we are not used to conceiving priesthood as a cause of solidarity. Why is it necessary to show that a priest is not someone close, if life already teaches so with many examples? If we all know from experience that a priest remains isolated in a temple and away from people’s problems? But, given the context of the time, Jesus had to fight the idea that outward dispositions such as the priestly condition could be enough to warrant proximity to other people.
However, he also showed that the inner criterion of proximity based on compassion was much more important and was not observed by religious Jews. Neither the priest nor the Levite who passed by the place where the traveler was stretched aided him. This indicates that the holders of those offices often neglected their vocation. Compassion had become as strange a feeling for them as it was for the thieves who had left the victim half dead.
However, besides the priest and the Levite, the parable shows a Samaritan who passed by the way, was moved by compassion and rescued the traveler. A Samaritan was the reverse of all that the priesthood represented at that time. Its origin was well known: when the Northern Kingdom was conquered by the Assyrians, the local cities were populated with Israelites and Gentiles from various places. These people gave rise to a mixed population, which adopted a mixed worship, of God and idols.
In the second century B. C., Samaria’s mixed population came into serious conflict with the Jews. And to further complicate the relationship of the two peoples, in year 6 d. C., the Samaritans desecrated the Temple in Jerusalem with human bones. These incidents were so serious that the Gospel of John reports us that, at the time of Jesus, "the Jews had no dealings with the Samaritans" (John 4:9).
The lack of communication is one of the biggest signs of enmity. Enemies do not talk with each other. On the contrary, they hate and, if possible, slay one another. Therefore, more than a heretic, the Samaritan was an incarnation of the Jew's ultimate enemy. This visceral enmity, this dealing determined by man’s most degraded instincts, form the backdrop of the scene. But the Jew robbed, beaten and left half dead was loved by his greatest enemy.
From a cultural standpoint, the Samaritan passerby had no reason to love the half dead Jew, but was moved by tender compassion. The word translated "moved by" originally indicated the viscera of a mother’s body. Indicated, therefore, that the love of the Samaritan was similar to that a mother devoted to her offspring. This is the true and highest response to the legal question "who is my neighbor?"
It is curious that the Samaritan did not love the miserable man, by bringing him home. Nor sought to know who were his relatives or acquaintances. In delivering the parable, Jesus simply left no room for formal relations, for relations that were aged by time. The new wine of love should not be poured into old wineskins, because this would be the same as to waste it. Helping one another is an obligation for relatives. But the good Samaritan rescued by compassion, even by the compassion of a mother for her child. And he did so to his greatest enemy. Drained to the last drop, the hatred of his heart gave way to love, like the wine of the festival, once exhausted, created a new space for the better wine.
The Samaritan’s deep love cannot be likened to the fulfillment of an obligation arising from kinship, professional camaraderie or any other external link. Jesus did not say the Samaritan took the man home and informed his sad state to his relatives. The victim of human lack of loving kindness should not be saved by relatives or friends, since these are not unlike the first wine of the wedding at Cana. He should be saved by the tightening of compassion in the chest of his very enemy.
"And on the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, Take care of him, and whatever you spend in addition to this, when I return, I will repay you" (Luke 10:35). The parable tells us of one nothing and three alls. The victim was robbed of all he owned, except the last thread of life. He was reduced to nothing, but received a second all (all he needed to recover), at the price of all it might cost. These alls came from the same unequivocal source: the ingrained compassion of his former Samaritan enemy.
It is often said that the Samaritan represents Christ. And he undoubtedly does. But I think he also portrays the Gentile enemy of the Jew. From this enmity that rocked the whole Earth on a vertigo, Jesus withdrew his definition of what truly meant to love the neighbor. The definition has little to do with theology, and still less with religion. It has all to do with subversion of enmity by compassion. Like a vulture, love feeds on the corpse of enmity. It sucks its carcass until there are but bones. This is the true love that God and only God can give birth to.
There was no difference between a Samaritan and a Gentile, except the larger hatred that Jews vowed to the first. Thus, the Samaritan was also a Gentile. Ephesians 2:14-15 refers to the wall of separation between Jews and Gentiles. That wall was higher and longer than China’s. Started at Samaria and made the lap of the Earth, imprisoning all men. Until the heretical Samaritan was moved by compassion and began the destruction of the wall.
It has been taught that the inn is the church. For a time, I rebelled against this interpretation, since the inns beside the Jewish roads were places of dubious reputation, which were not rarely crowded with malefactors. But I concluded that, if the hero of the parable is an anti-hero, a picture of the ultimate enemy, the place where the victim convalesces can well be a den of robbers. St. Augustine and many others pointed out that the church on Earth is not only a community of saints. It is also that den. But it must still be recognized as the best place for man beaten by life to recover. In an inhospitable world, though imperfect, the inn is a center of salvation for many.
The scribe who questioned Jesus about love was not himself in a position to love. He believed that love was to greet his neighbor with the word prescribed by law: how could he truly love? He had also been stripped of everything and was half dead. And a half dead man could only love as zombies do. But that zombies’ love, which is based on greeting others with the exact word and telling the acceptable prayer, was nothing more than feeding the deepest enmity. To love truly is to tremble with compassion for others. It is to love with the strength of a will reborn of water and the Spirit.
The need for this teaching may sound strange to us, since we are not used to conceiving priesthood as a cause of solidarity. Why is it necessary to show that a priest is not someone close, if life already teaches so with many examples? If we all know from experience that a priest remains isolated in a temple and away from people’s problems? But, given the context of the time, Jesus had to fight the idea that outward dispositions such as the priestly condition could be enough to warrant proximity to other people.
However, he also showed that the inner criterion of proximity based on compassion was much more important and was not observed by religious Jews. Neither the priest nor the Levite who passed by the place where the traveler was stretched aided him. This indicates that the holders of those offices often neglected their vocation. Compassion had become as strange a feeling for them as it was for the thieves who had left the victim half dead.
However, besides the priest and the Levite, the parable shows a Samaritan who passed by the way, was moved by compassion and rescued the traveler. A Samaritan was the reverse of all that the priesthood represented at that time. Its origin was well known: when the Northern Kingdom was conquered by the Assyrians, the local cities were populated with Israelites and Gentiles from various places. These people gave rise to a mixed population, which adopted a mixed worship, of God and idols.
In the second century B. C., Samaria’s mixed population came into serious conflict with the Jews. And to further complicate the relationship of the two peoples, in year 6 d. C., the Samaritans desecrated the Temple in Jerusalem with human bones. These incidents were so serious that the Gospel of John reports us that, at the time of Jesus, "the Jews had no dealings with the Samaritans" (John 4:9).
The lack of communication is one of the biggest signs of enmity. Enemies do not talk with each other. On the contrary, they hate and, if possible, slay one another. Therefore, more than a heretic, the Samaritan was an incarnation of the Jew's ultimate enemy. This visceral enmity, this dealing determined by man’s most degraded instincts, form the backdrop of the scene. But the Jew robbed, beaten and left half dead was loved by his greatest enemy.
From a cultural standpoint, the Samaritan passerby had no reason to love the half dead Jew, but was moved by tender compassion. The word translated "moved by" originally indicated the viscera of a mother’s body. Indicated, therefore, that the love of the Samaritan was similar to that a mother devoted to her offspring. This is the true and highest response to the legal question "who is my neighbor?"
It is curious that the Samaritan did not love the miserable man, by bringing him home. Nor sought to know who were his relatives or acquaintances. In delivering the parable, Jesus simply left no room for formal relations, for relations that were aged by time. The new wine of love should not be poured into old wineskins, because this would be the same as to waste it. Helping one another is an obligation for relatives. But the good Samaritan rescued by compassion, even by the compassion of a mother for her child. And he did so to his greatest enemy. Drained to the last drop, the hatred of his heart gave way to love, like the wine of the festival, once exhausted, created a new space for the better wine.
The Samaritan’s deep love cannot be likened to the fulfillment of an obligation arising from kinship, professional camaraderie or any other external link. Jesus did not say the Samaritan took the man home and informed his sad state to his relatives. The victim of human lack of loving kindness should not be saved by relatives or friends, since these are not unlike the first wine of the wedding at Cana. He should be saved by the tightening of compassion in the chest of his very enemy.
"And on the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, Take care of him, and whatever you spend in addition to this, when I return, I will repay you" (Luke 10:35). The parable tells us of one nothing and three alls. The victim was robbed of all he owned, except the last thread of life. He was reduced to nothing, but received a second all (all he needed to recover), at the price of all it might cost. These alls came from the same unequivocal source: the ingrained compassion of his former Samaritan enemy.
It is often said that the Samaritan represents Christ. And he undoubtedly does. But I think he also portrays the Gentile enemy of the Jew. From this enmity that rocked the whole Earth on a vertigo, Jesus withdrew his definition of what truly meant to love the neighbor. The definition has little to do with theology, and still less with religion. It has all to do with subversion of enmity by compassion. Like a vulture, love feeds on the corpse of enmity. It sucks its carcass until there are but bones. This is the true love that God and only God can give birth to.
There was no difference between a Samaritan and a Gentile, except the larger hatred that Jews vowed to the first. Thus, the Samaritan was also a Gentile. Ephesians 2:14-15 refers to the wall of separation between Jews and Gentiles. That wall was higher and longer than China’s. Started at Samaria and made the lap of the Earth, imprisoning all men. Until the heretical Samaritan was moved by compassion and began the destruction of the wall.
It has been taught that the inn is the church. For a time, I rebelled against this interpretation, since the inns beside the Jewish roads were places of dubious reputation, which were not rarely crowded with malefactors. But I concluded that, if the hero of the parable is an anti-hero, a picture of the ultimate enemy, the place where the victim convalesces can well be a den of robbers. St. Augustine and many others pointed out that the church on Earth is not only a community of saints. It is also that den. But it must still be recognized as the best place for man beaten by life to recover. In an inhospitable world, though imperfect, the inn is a center of salvation for many.
The scribe who questioned Jesus about love was not himself in a position to love. He believed that love was to greet his neighbor with the word prescribed by law: how could he truly love? He had also been stripped of everything and was half dead. And a half dead man could only love as zombies do. But that zombies’ love, which is based on greeting others with the exact word and telling the acceptable prayer, was nothing more than feeding the deepest enmity. To love truly is to tremble with compassion for others. It is to love with the strength of a will reborn of water and the Spirit.
THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS
Jesus told his disciples the following story about a rich man and a beggar: "There was a certain rich man, and he clothed himself in purple and fine linen, making merry every day in splendor. And a certain beggar named Lazarus was laid at his gate, covered with sores [...] And the beggar died and he was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom; and the rich man also died and was buried. And in Hades he lifted his eyes, being in torment, and saw Abraham from afar and Lazarus in his bosom. And he called out and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue because I am in anguish in this flame" (Luke 16:19-20,22-24).
It is sometimes remembered that this story has traits which do not appear in other Gospel parables. It gives names of real people to two of its characters (Lazarus and Abraham) and mentions a specific place where they go after death (hades). This is something to be considered. But Jesus told so many parables and so few stories on real facts of the present that it seems unlikely that the text on Lazarus and the beggar was not one of his allegoric stories.
In fact, as our knowledge of ancient literature grows, the number of texts interpreted as parables increases. And it increases so wildly that, in modern exegesis, the Old Testament proverbs and Jesus’ saying about the unclean spirit who returns to his house are considered parables. Not only them, but many other examples, comparisons, maxims, figurative stories of the Bible also are. And in this transformed picture of the holy texts, there remains little doubt that the story of the rich man and Lazarus should be considered a parable, though of a special kind.
In it, the precise allusions to hades and the after death must be due to the preexistence of teachings about them. They also show that the object of the parable is not the actions of its characters, but precisely those teachings. They are the main symbols employed to indicate spiritual realities. For instance, the rich man’s statements about his eyes, tongue and finger echo the first century belief that the soul survived death. The same is true of the disposition of the two sections of hades, implicit in the statements that the rich man looked up to see Abraham and Lazarus, and that a chasm separated the two sections. These data were part of the teaching about the intermediate state, which was adopted as a symbol of after death's sufferings and rewards.
At the same time, the Pharisaic teaching of the postmortem state also echoed the Bible’s numerous allusions to death as a kind of sleep. If we add the teaching behind those allusions to the representation of hades we see in the parable, the resultant doctrine will be that the intermediate state is totally dominated by creations of the mind, which are similar to dreams. From this viewpoint, the torment of the rich, his visualization of Abraham and Lazarus, the dialogue he held with the first are not real experiences, but imaginative creations of his mind after death.
Jesus referred to all these doctrines and implications of doctrines that circulated at his time, in order to add the teaching that the sort of life the rich man lived filled his mind with thoughts that would later explode in the form of suffering. We are told that the rich man, when alive, saw Lazarus, but did not help him. This was surely his fault. But the verb tense used to describe Lazarus’ lying at the door of the rich man is the pluperfect (“more than perfect” in Greek). That tense was considered a luxury in the language of the New Testament (koiné), for people felt no need of expressing what it was supposed to express (TAYLOR, W. C. Introduction to the study of the Greek New Testament. 6ª ed., Rio de Janeiro: JUERP, 1980. p. 332). Huckabee says the pluperfect used to indicate that both the action and its effect were past (www.palavraprudente.com.br/estudos/dwhuckabee/hermeneutica/ cap05.html). This implies that both the rich man’s action of seeing Lazarus and its effect had ceased at the decisive time of Lazarus' death.
This verb tense is in sharp contrast with the rich man’s habitual feasting, which is indicated by the verb in the imperfect. The imperfect tense conveys the idea of a continuous action, which in the parable is exaggerated by the addition of the expression every day (kat emeran). Rienecker and Rogers explain the meaning of this tense in the following way: “imperfect of habit, [meaning] habitually dressed” (RIENECKER, Fritz and ROGERS, Cleon. Linguistic key to the Greek New Testament. Sao Paulo: Vida Nova, 1988. p. 141).
If all this is right, and we have good reasons to think it may be, the teaching of Jesus is that the action that makes the rich man blamed is not having seen Lazarus at his door in the past, but feasting and merrying continuosly. It is not so much the social aspect of the story, or the man’s relation with Lazarus, but his action of continually directing his whole life to pleasure.
Psalms 73 describes the consequences of such a life: “I was envious of the arrogant, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For they have no pangs in their death, and their body is well nourished. They do not find themselves in the hardship of men, nor are they plagued like other men. Therefore pride is a necklace for them, violence covers them like a garment. Their eyes bulge out from fatness; the imaginations of their heart overflow […] And they say, How does God know? And is there knowledge with the Most High? Behold, these are the wicked; and always at ease, they heap up riches” (Psalms 73:3-7,11-12).
When uttered the story about Lazarus, Jesus had just told two other parables of rich men, who were wise and represented God (those of the prodigal son and of the prudent steward). It would be strange to make the man of the third parable evil, just because he was rich. So he was said evil, not because he had much money, but because he lived to pleasures. Jesus also called Mammon unrighteous, in Luke 16:11, not in itself, but because fortunes were usually accumulated by means of unrighteous deeds.
The flame that the rich man mentions in 16:24 appears in other parables. In all of them, it represents judgment. Particularly in the parable of the tares, Jesus says that “the angels will gather the stumbling blocks and those who practice lawlessness, and will cast them into the furnace of fire” (Matthew 13:41-42), and in the text on the great fishing, he again says the angels will cast the evil ones into the furnace of fire, where “there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (Matthew 13:50).
Weeping may indicate distress, but also grief or sadness. And the gnashing of teeth sometimes accompanies pain, sometimes anger. So the furnace of Matthew 13:50 can be variously interpreted as a place of suffering and pain or of sadness and anger. In children, crying most commonly relate to suffering, but in adults, it usually indicates sadness. If we understand that the furnace is designed for adults, it is more consistent to interpret crying as a sign of sorrow, and gnashing of teeth as the anger for being disqualified.
So, even in the judgment that will be carried out with the aid of angels, suffering will be a consequence of the state of mind of sinners, represented by the weeping and gnashing of teeth, not something infused into them. How much more in the judgment of the intermediate state portrayed in Luke 16! As in a nightmare produced by the mind packed up with strife and challenges, the wicked will suffer because of their own proud thoughts and of the vain imaginations of their heart.
However, when that happens, the soul starts to judge things under a new light. When saw it was impossible to receive even a water drop from the other part of hades, the rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus to his five brothers. The plead indicates a change of perspective. It can be argued that the change came too late, but the parable does not develop this point. It rather leaves the question unanswered.
Abraham only said that those who lived like the rich man would not be persuaded, if someone rose from the dead. As we have seen, the life that leads to torment is a consequence of day by day attachment to pleasures. Change of behavior can happen without anyone ressurrecting. Age produces it much more simply. But the weight of sensations, lusts, unbelief and pride cannot be easily removed from the heart. They are like the root of a tree, that remains under the ground, when the leaves and fruits fall. And which causes the tree to awake and bring forth new rotten fruits.
In it, the precise allusions to hades and the after death must be due to the preexistence of teachings about them. They also show that the object of the parable is not the actions of its characters, but precisely those teachings. They are the main symbols employed to indicate spiritual realities. For instance, the rich man’s statements about his eyes, tongue and finger echo the first century belief that the soul survived death. The same is true of the disposition of the two sections of hades, implicit in the statements that the rich man looked up to see Abraham and Lazarus, and that a chasm separated the two sections. These data were part of the teaching about the intermediate state, which was adopted as a symbol of after death's sufferings and rewards.
At the same time, the Pharisaic teaching of the postmortem state also echoed the Bible’s numerous allusions to death as a kind of sleep. If we add the teaching behind those allusions to the representation of hades we see in the parable, the resultant doctrine will be that the intermediate state is totally dominated by creations of the mind, which are similar to dreams. From this viewpoint, the torment of the rich, his visualization of Abraham and Lazarus, the dialogue he held with the first are not real experiences, but imaginative creations of his mind after death.
Jesus referred to all these doctrines and implications of doctrines that circulated at his time, in order to add the teaching that the sort of life the rich man lived filled his mind with thoughts that would later explode in the form of suffering. We are told that the rich man, when alive, saw Lazarus, but did not help him. This was surely his fault. But the verb tense used to describe Lazarus’ lying at the door of the rich man is the pluperfect (“more than perfect” in Greek). That tense was considered a luxury in the language of the New Testament (koiné), for people felt no need of expressing what it was supposed to express (TAYLOR, W. C. Introduction to the study of the Greek New Testament. 6ª ed., Rio de Janeiro: JUERP, 1980. p. 332). Huckabee says the pluperfect used to indicate that both the action and its effect were past (www.palavraprudente.com.br/estudos/dwhuckabee/hermeneutica/ cap05.html). This implies that both the rich man’s action of seeing Lazarus and its effect had ceased at the decisive time of Lazarus' death.
This verb tense is in sharp contrast with the rich man’s habitual feasting, which is indicated by the verb in the imperfect. The imperfect tense conveys the idea of a continuous action, which in the parable is exaggerated by the addition of the expression every day (kat emeran). Rienecker and Rogers explain the meaning of this tense in the following way: “imperfect of habit, [meaning] habitually dressed” (RIENECKER, Fritz and ROGERS, Cleon. Linguistic key to the Greek New Testament. Sao Paulo: Vida Nova, 1988. p. 141).
If all this is right, and we have good reasons to think it may be, the teaching of Jesus is that the action that makes the rich man blamed is not having seen Lazarus at his door in the past, but feasting and merrying continuosly. It is not so much the social aspect of the story, or the man’s relation with Lazarus, but his action of continually directing his whole life to pleasure.
Psalms 73 describes the consequences of such a life: “I was envious of the arrogant, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For they have no pangs in their death, and their body is well nourished. They do not find themselves in the hardship of men, nor are they plagued like other men. Therefore pride is a necklace for them, violence covers them like a garment. Their eyes bulge out from fatness; the imaginations of their heart overflow […] And they say, How does God know? And is there knowledge with the Most High? Behold, these are the wicked; and always at ease, they heap up riches” (Psalms 73:3-7,11-12).
When uttered the story about Lazarus, Jesus had just told two other parables of rich men, who were wise and represented God (those of the prodigal son and of the prudent steward). It would be strange to make the man of the third parable evil, just because he was rich. So he was said evil, not because he had much money, but because he lived to pleasures. Jesus also called Mammon unrighteous, in Luke 16:11, not in itself, but because fortunes were usually accumulated by means of unrighteous deeds.
The flame that the rich man mentions in 16:24 appears in other parables. In all of them, it represents judgment. Particularly in the parable of the tares, Jesus says that “the angels will gather the stumbling blocks and those who practice lawlessness, and will cast them into the furnace of fire” (Matthew 13:41-42), and in the text on the great fishing, he again says the angels will cast the evil ones into the furnace of fire, where “there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (Matthew 13:50).
Weeping may indicate distress, but also grief or sadness. And the gnashing of teeth sometimes accompanies pain, sometimes anger. So the furnace of Matthew 13:50 can be variously interpreted as a place of suffering and pain or of sadness and anger. In children, crying most commonly relate to suffering, but in adults, it usually indicates sadness. If we understand that the furnace is designed for adults, it is more consistent to interpret crying as a sign of sorrow, and gnashing of teeth as the anger for being disqualified.
So, even in the judgment that will be carried out with the aid of angels, suffering will be a consequence of the state of mind of sinners, represented by the weeping and gnashing of teeth, not something infused into them. How much more in the judgment of the intermediate state portrayed in Luke 16! As in a nightmare produced by the mind packed up with strife and challenges, the wicked will suffer because of their own proud thoughts and of the vain imaginations of their heart.
However, when that happens, the soul starts to judge things under a new light. When saw it was impossible to receive even a water drop from the other part of hades, the rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus to his five brothers. The plead indicates a change of perspective. It can be argued that the change came too late, but the parable does not develop this point. It rather leaves the question unanswered.
Abraham only said that those who lived like the rich man would not be persuaded, if someone rose from the dead. As we have seen, the life that leads to torment is a consequence of day by day attachment to pleasures. Change of behavior can happen without anyone ressurrecting. Age produces it much more simply. But the weight of sensations, lusts, unbelief and pride cannot be easily removed from the heart. They are like the root of a tree, that remains under the ground, when the leaves and fruits fall. And which causes the tree to awake and bring forth new rotten fruits.
THE GOOD SHEPHERD
In Christian churches, it is almost inconceivable to admit a new member, celebrate a wedding or bury the dead, without the intervention of ordained ministers. Not only because they have greater acquaintance with the word of God, but because of the symbolic role they perform, these leaders are invariably asked to act in the crucial moments of the life of communities. As if the effectiveness of the acts then practiced would be withdrawn or diminished, if they did not intervene in some way.
We may feel uncomfortable with this way of thinking, but the fact is that dependence on traditional leadership is based on very deep reasons. Building the cohesion of groups by the intrinsic eminence of their leaders is an ancestral human habit. The words leader, leadership and authority are true euphemisms in this matter. They conceal much cruder realities and obscure the fact that the cohesion of communities is often kept by the mere power of a leader over all other people.
It is not different in the church. Throughout History, Christian unity has always depended on the power wielded by three types of leaders: the hierarch, the pastor and the icon. The first one is the typical Catholic or Orthodox clergyman, who is moved by the weight of the ecclesiastical structure he is part of. The second one is the Protestant leader, whose main function is to teach and preach the word of God. By working more with the word, the pastor has a kind of power which is more symbolic than coercive. Finally, the icon is a charismatic figure, around which a splinter group of autonomous believers is formed within or without formal Chistianity. The most outstanding Augustinians, Franciscans, Dominicans, Jesuits, Salesians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Mormons in History are examples of this last kind of leaders. While the power of pastors springs from the position they hold, the authority of the great icons springs from themselves, their personal history and predicates.
It cannot be denied that the action of these leaders is what prevents the church from disassembling into a multitude of disconnected cells. This shows that, while recognizing the word of God as its only foundation, the church lives in constant contradiction with it. If the word were the church's sole support, in practice as it is in doctrine, it would not tend to dissolve in disconnected cells, because its leaders fail to exercise their traditional roles. So, at a time, the church is based on the word of God and maintains its cohesion through traditional leadership.
This contradiction is a tremendous dilemma, in which the church is immersed. It may be said one of her most prominent historical problems. In the parable of the good shepherd, Jesus addressed the dilemma bluntly and without mitigations. It seems the parable was uttered to show that Jesus introduced a new kind of authority (that of the good shepherd), which has little in common with the three types of regular religious leaders.
Jesus first compared the behaviors of the shepherd and the thief of the sheep. While the former promotes the cohesion of the flock by his voice, the second does his works by violent means. The pastor goes to the watchman, who opens the door of the corral to him, but the robber scales on the other side, in search of an opening through which he enters to steal the sheep. As he cannot lead them by his voice, the thief needs to beat the sheep to remove them from the fold. And in doing so, he comes to kill some. Still other times, he destroys corral in order to remove the sheep. That is why the text says the thief comes to kill, steal and destroy.
However, among all the differences discussed so far, the one that reveals the intrinsic character of the relationship of the shepherd with the sheep is the voice he directs to them and through which he commands them. This voice is heard and recognized by the sheep. The talk of the robber is not. When entering the fold, the thief tries to lead the sheep with his voice, but they not recognize it.
We may feel uncomfortable with this way of thinking, but the fact is that dependence on traditional leadership is based on very deep reasons. Building the cohesion of groups by the intrinsic eminence of their leaders is an ancestral human habit. The words leader, leadership and authority are true euphemisms in this matter. They conceal much cruder realities and obscure the fact that the cohesion of communities is often kept by the mere power of a leader over all other people.
It is not different in the church. Throughout History, Christian unity has always depended on the power wielded by three types of leaders: the hierarch, the pastor and the icon. The first one is the typical Catholic or Orthodox clergyman, who is moved by the weight of the ecclesiastical structure he is part of. The second one is the Protestant leader, whose main function is to teach and preach the word of God. By working more with the word, the pastor has a kind of power which is more symbolic than coercive. Finally, the icon is a charismatic figure, around which a splinter group of autonomous believers is formed within or without formal Chistianity. The most outstanding Augustinians, Franciscans, Dominicans, Jesuits, Salesians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Mormons in History are examples of this last kind of leaders. While the power of pastors springs from the position they hold, the authority of the great icons springs from themselves, their personal history and predicates.
It cannot be denied that the action of these leaders is what prevents the church from disassembling into a multitude of disconnected cells. This shows that, while recognizing the word of God as its only foundation, the church lives in constant contradiction with it. If the word were the church's sole support, in practice as it is in doctrine, it would not tend to dissolve in disconnected cells, because its leaders fail to exercise their traditional roles. So, at a time, the church is based on the word of God and maintains its cohesion through traditional leadership.
This contradiction is a tremendous dilemma, in which the church is immersed. It may be said one of her most prominent historical problems. In the parable of the good shepherd, Jesus addressed the dilemma bluntly and without mitigations. It seems the parable was uttered to show that Jesus introduced a new kind of authority (that of the good shepherd), which has little in common with the three types of regular religious leaders.
Jesus first compared the behaviors of the shepherd and the thief of the sheep. While the former promotes the cohesion of the flock by his voice, the second does his works by violent means. The pastor goes to the watchman, who opens the door of the corral to him, but the robber scales on the other side, in search of an opening through which he enters to steal the sheep. As he cannot lead them by his voice, the thief needs to beat the sheep to remove them from the fold. And in doing so, he comes to kill some. Still other times, he destroys corral in order to remove the sheep. That is why the text says the thief comes to kill, steal and destroy.
However, among all the differences discussed so far, the one that reveals the intrinsic character of the relationship of the shepherd with the sheep is the voice he directs to them and through which he commands them. This voice is heard and recognized by the sheep. The talk of the robber is not. When entering the fold, the thief tries to lead the sheep with his voice, but they not recognize it.
By this observation about the voice, Jesus wanted to show that the essential function of the pastor of souls is to speak the word of God. The pastor is not obeyed by the use he makes of the stick, but by his handling of the word. This particular timbre, that he and only he delivers, is unmistakable. By it, the parable indicates that, in the kingdom of God, something different takes place: the aggregation of the flock of God starts to depend more on the echo of the divine word in the hearts of people than on the mechanisms of cohesion based on the three types of traditional power (coercive, symbolic and personal).
No statement could express this better than "All who came before me are thieves and robbers" (John 10:8). The words "before me" do not have a chronological meaning. Otherwise, all leaders of the Old Testament should be considered thieves. The words point to a subjective experience. They really mean “before meeting me” in a personal way. No matter they are leaders of other religions, hierarchs, pastors or Christian icons, those who guide the sheep without being guided by this experience are not good shepherds.
However, we should not understand the good shepherd only by the ideal of love he represents. The ancient figure of the herdsman did not represent only love, but also physical might. Revelation 2:26-27 gives us a good description of this aspect of the shepherd: “He who overcomes and he who keeps my words until the end, to him I will give authority over the nations; and he will shepherd them with an iron rod, as vessels of pottery are broken in pieces”.
These verses refer to the ancient ideal of the king-shepherd, of the king who exercised authority by shepherding. They show very strongly that the idea of a shepherd was not of an ever peaceful person. In Revelation 2, authority and shepherding are parallel words with parallel meanings: “I will give him authority over the nations”, and: “He will shepherd them”. How will he shepherd? The verse says he will break them into pieces with an iron rod.
A surprising feature of Jesus’ words to the angels of the seven churches, in Revelation 2 and 3, is not that they contradict those of the loving Jesus of the Gospels, but that they show the demanding face of such lovingness. “As many as I love I reprove and discipline” (Revelation 3:19). Love is not only love. It is also discipline and correction. Therefore, shepherding is not only caring, but also breaking in pieces.
It is true that sheep do not need to be broken in pieces, but nations do. So, Christian leaders must learn to be shepherds in both senses. They must not be fools, but know that the two kinds of sherperding are one in principle, and that the difference between them has to do only with the degree in which each one shows the mild and the stern faces of love.
The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche accused Christianity and Christ himself of disseminating such values as love and compassion, which imply the praise of weakness. He thought those values would bring civilization to collapse. But he did not see that Christ’s love is a two-faced animal. It has an aspect of tenderness and another of discipline and force.
But starting from verse 12 of John 10, Jesus referred to yet another symbolic character: the mercenary. "The hireling and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them" (John 10:12).
The hireling does almost everything the good shepherd does: addresses the doorman, enters the sheepfold through the door, talks to the sheep and is recognized, leads them to the pasture and collects them back at the end of the day. The difference between the two is manifested only when the wolf comes. On that extreme occasion, the hireling flees, the good shepherd gives his life for the sheep.
The pair shepherd-mercenary shows that the first one is not only different from those who lead by power, but also from those who lead by the word, but based on the wrong reason. Such is the attitude of the mercenary. His problem is not what he does to the sheep, but the motivation by which he leads them. The mercenary does all he is supposed to do, but he does so with a view to the money he receives. All the time, he thinks in himself and not in the sheep. When the final proof comes, the money he gets is no sufficient motive for him to protect the sheep. So he abandons them.
The parable of the good shepherd encloses and besieges all kinds of misconceptions on traditional leadership. Unfortunately, we usually read it as if it made reference to a problem of Judaism or of heretics. It is difficult for us to acknowledge that traditional Christian models of authority also follow the exact pattern the parable combats. And it is even more difficult to cut relations with that pattern.
The traditional and the new leaderships are rooted in the hearts of individual Christians, as well as in the church. In the hearts, they stare one another, as two Titans before battle. One of the Titans wants to guide the sheep by his stick, the other by his voice. The first one directs the sheep, but is himself directed by an ancestral habit of power. The other guides them because his infinite love has freed him from that very habit. And the saying entirely applies to the impasse thus formed: "No one can serve two masters."
THE SOWER
The longest sequence of parables of Jesus is found in Matthew 13. It opens with the story of the sower and ends with a short saying about the father who takes new and old things from his deposit. A common feature of most parables of the sequence is representing the kingdom of heaven by agricultural practices. That is what we see in the texts on the sower, the wheat and the tare, the grain of mustard, the leaven and the flour.
In his wisdom, the sower does not throw the grains only on good ground, but also by the roadside and on the ground that has thorns and stones. And he does not do it carelessly. The parable does not give the smallest hint that the farmer sows all these various soils by chance. No word indicates that some grains fall from his hands on the wayside and others are voluntarily thrown on the good soil. The same words are used to describe both acts of sowing.
And it is easy to understand why, when we turn to the agricultural practices of Ancient Palestine. The theologian Joachim Jeremias wrote in his famous book on the parables: "The sower walks on a field that was not yet plowed [...] He sows on purpose on the path that the villagers opened through the stubble field, because this path will be plowed together with the rest of the ground. He also seeds on purpose among parched thorns of the uncultivated land, because they will also be included in the plowing. And the grains that fall on the stony ground should not surprise us, for the limestone [...] does not stand out of the field that was not plowed until the ploughshare, creaking, strikes against it" (JEREMIAH,
In his wisdom, the sower does not throw the grains only on good ground, but also by the roadside and on the ground that has thorns and stones. And he does not do it carelessly. The parable does not give the smallest hint that the farmer sows all these various soils by chance. No word indicates that some grains fall from his hands on the wayside and others are voluntarily thrown on the good soil. The same words are used to describe both acts of sowing.
And it is easy to understand why, when we turn to the agricultural practices of Ancient Palestine. The theologian Joachim Jeremias wrote in his famous book on the parables: "The sower walks on a field that was not yet plowed [...] He sows on purpose on the path that the villagers opened through the stubble field, because this path will be plowed together with the rest of the ground. He also seeds on purpose among parched thorns of the uncultivated land, because they will also be included in the plowing. And the grains that fall on the stony ground should not surprise us, for the limestone [...] does not stand out of the field that was not plowed until the ploughshare, creaking, strikes against it" (JEREMIAH,
Joachim. Parables of Jesus. São Paulo: Paulinas, 1976The custom mentioned by Jeremiah is exactly opposite to modern agricultural practices. Today’s farmers first plow, then sow. At the time of Jesus, the husbandmen first sowed, then plowed. And when they sowed, they turned the precarious ways of the field into farm. They also did not take in account if some parts of the field had rocks or thorns, for the plough would latter prepare them to grow plants.
We are used to hearing and repeating that the three kinds of soil that did not bring forth fruits are negative, if not cursed, but Jesus taught another thing. He meant he did not carry out his mission as a sower with partiality. He did not go into the world saying "yes to this, no to that, yes to this, no to that". On the contrary, he brought the kingdom of heavens to all types of men. The fact that some soils did not bring forth fruits does not mean they were to be rejected. According to the agricultural practice of the time, they were not. Rather, when the next sowing season came, they would receive new seeds and be ploughed again. Maybe they would grow the expected vegetables, maybe not. If they did not, they would still be sown again.
This is the meaning of the parable strictly speaking. It has been expounded several times, though in a way that excludes the chance of the three bad soils coming to produce fruit. The deficiencies of the three soils are indeed obvious and should not be denied. But we must also learn the lesson implicit in the agricultural methods of the time that they would be sown and ploughed again and again in the future. This is the strict meaning of the sower`s story.
But the parable also has a broad meaning, which Jesus expounded when the disciples asked him "Why do you speak in parables to them?" (Matthew 13:10). It is meaningful that this question is connected to the parable in all three synoptic Gospels, though Mark and Luke present it differently from Matthew. Mark says: "When He was alone, those around Him, with the twelve, asked Him about the parables" (Mark 4:10). In Luke we read: "His disciples questioned Him as to what this parable [the sower's] might be" (Luke 8:9).
In all cases, Jesus answered that "to you it has been given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of the heavens, but to them [the crowds] it has not been given" (Matthew 13:11). And in all three Gospels the quote from Isaiah was added: "In them the prophecy of Isaiah is being fulfilled, which says, In hearing you shall hear and by no means understand, and seeing you shall see and by no means perceive. For the heart of this people has become fat, and with their ears they have heard heavily, and their eyes have closed, lest they perceive with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their heart, and they turn around, and I will heal them" (Matthew 13:14-15).
These last words are not only a teaching about parables, but about the parable of the sower in particular. They unveil that Jesus’ ministry brought in the terrible crisis Isaiah had predicted. From the viewpoint of the prophetic ministry which was Isaiah's, nothing could be more dramatic than people hear and do not understand, see and do not perceive. No crisis could be more extreme than the one that led God to harden people's heart, so that they did not understand what was preached to them. That was the consummate denial of the prophetic ministry and its total failure.
It is astonishing that, in John 12:12, the crowd of Matthew reappears. And so does the grain of wheat, in John 12:24, which is again said to fall on the ground and bear much fruit: "Truly, truly I say to you, Unless the grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it abides alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit". These verses are the parable repeated in all that concerns the good land. And the prophecy of Isaiah is also seen once more: "That the word of the prophet Isaiah which he said might be fulfilled [...] He has blinded their eyes and He hardened their heart" etc. (John 12:38,40).
John 12 really shows that the parable of the sower remained in the heart of Jesus much after he taught it in Matthew 13. But in both passages it may be read as a disclosure of the Jews' negative situation. And it truly is, but not only. It is even more a teaching about the solution of the problem of the people's hardening. Throughout the Bible, we see the children of Israel being unfaithful and God being faithful, up to a point when God gets tired of them and abandons them. Not few times, this abandonment seems to be definite and irreversible. In all this, God's feelings seem like those of the best men, who can be faithful and loyal to other people, but not indefinitely. For men, the time always comes when they leave those who are unfaithful and disloyal to them.
These feelings that God has in common with men explain much of the judgment and of the suffering we find in human life. But the Bible shows that God also has feelings that are quite different from man's. And that these different feelings are God's last word to man. As Jeremiah wrote: "If a man divorces his wife and she goes from him and becomes another man`s wife, will he return to her again? Will not that land be utterly polluted? But you have committed fornication with many lovers. Yet return to Me, declares Jehovah" (Jer 3:1). And Isaiah: "For a short moment I forsook you, but with great compassion I will gather you. In a flood of wrath I hid my face from you for a moment, but with eternal lovingkindness I will have mercy on you, says Jehovah your Redeemer. For this is like the waters of Noah to Me, when I swore that the waters of Noah would not overflow the earth ever again, so I have sworn that I will not be angry with you, nor will I rebuke you. For the mountains may depart, and the hills may shake, but my lovingkindness will not depart from you, and my covenant of peace will not shake" (Isa 54:7-10).
The dying of the grain and its bearing much fruit are the symbols of God`s unchanging mercy towards men. They are no longer the problem that Isaiah presented, but its solution, the fulfillment of Isaiah`s words of peace to Israel. The parable of the sower was pronounced to bring in the solution. "The seed is the word of God" (Luke 8:11), said Jesus. When the word falls in the heart and dies, which means is opened up, the power of its life fully renews man.
But how we want the word to be sown only in one kind of people! How we want all believers to be alike! And how we also want the seed to grow into tree right away! We want to convince people and vanquish their understanding immediately. Thus we transform the preaching of the gospel in conflict, in an effort to disintegrate ways of thinking, feeling and acting. Such are the Crusades we see in today's Christian world.
Jesus did nothing comparable to this. He was and still is a mere sower. Two thousand years ago, he launched the grains to the soil. And as a good sower, he left all the rest to nature. That means to the nature of the word and of the heart. God's plan of salvation and lovingkindness is not implanting trees, but this grain of the word in the heart. And in spite of all the discrimination of men, in the heart does not mean in a certain kind of heart or in a certain standard of men, but in all kinds of hearts and in all kinds of men.
We are used to hearing and repeating that the three kinds of soil that did not bring forth fruits are negative, if not cursed, but Jesus taught another thing. He meant he did not carry out his mission as a sower with partiality. He did not go into the world saying "yes to this, no to that, yes to this, no to that". On the contrary, he brought the kingdom of heavens to all types of men. The fact that some soils did not bring forth fruits does not mean they were to be rejected. According to the agricultural practice of the time, they were not. Rather, when the next sowing season came, they would receive new seeds and be ploughed again. Maybe they would grow the expected vegetables, maybe not. If they did not, they would still be sown again.
This is the meaning of the parable strictly speaking. It has been expounded several times, though in a way that excludes the chance of the three bad soils coming to produce fruit. The deficiencies of the three soils are indeed obvious and should not be denied. But we must also learn the lesson implicit in the agricultural methods of the time that they would be sown and ploughed again and again in the future. This is the strict meaning of the sower`s story.
But the parable also has a broad meaning, which Jesus expounded when the disciples asked him "Why do you speak in parables to them?" (Matthew 13:10). It is meaningful that this question is connected to the parable in all three synoptic Gospels, though Mark and Luke present it differently from Matthew. Mark says: "When He was alone, those around Him, with the twelve, asked Him about the parables" (Mark 4:10). In Luke we read: "His disciples questioned Him as to what this parable [the sower's] might be" (Luke 8:9).
In all cases, Jesus answered that "to you it has been given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of the heavens, but to them [the crowds] it has not been given" (Matthew 13:11). And in all three Gospels the quote from Isaiah was added: "In them the prophecy of Isaiah is being fulfilled, which says, In hearing you shall hear and by no means understand, and seeing you shall see and by no means perceive. For the heart of this people has become fat, and with their ears they have heard heavily, and their eyes have closed, lest they perceive with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their heart, and they turn around, and I will heal them" (Matthew 13:14-15).
These last words are not only a teaching about parables, but about the parable of the sower in particular. They unveil that Jesus’ ministry brought in the terrible crisis Isaiah had predicted. From the viewpoint of the prophetic ministry which was Isaiah's, nothing could be more dramatic than people hear and do not understand, see and do not perceive. No crisis could be more extreme than the one that led God to harden people's heart, so that they did not understand what was preached to them. That was the consummate denial of the prophetic ministry and its total failure.
It is astonishing that, in John 12:12, the crowd of Matthew reappears. And so does the grain of wheat, in John 12:24, which is again said to fall on the ground and bear much fruit: "Truly, truly I say to you, Unless the grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it abides alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit". These verses are the parable repeated in all that concerns the good land. And the prophecy of Isaiah is also seen once more: "That the word of the prophet Isaiah which he said might be fulfilled [...] He has blinded their eyes and He hardened their heart" etc. (John 12:38,40).
John 12 really shows that the parable of the sower remained in the heart of Jesus much after he taught it in Matthew 13. But in both passages it may be read as a disclosure of the Jews' negative situation. And it truly is, but not only. It is even more a teaching about the solution of the problem of the people's hardening. Throughout the Bible, we see the children of Israel being unfaithful and God being faithful, up to a point when God gets tired of them and abandons them. Not few times, this abandonment seems to be definite and irreversible. In all this, God's feelings seem like those of the best men, who can be faithful and loyal to other people, but not indefinitely. For men, the time always comes when they leave those who are unfaithful and disloyal to them.
These feelings that God has in common with men explain much of the judgment and of the suffering we find in human life. But the Bible shows that God also has feelings that are quite different from man's. And that these different feelings are God's last word to man. As Jeremiah wrote: "If a man divorces his wife and she goes from him and becomes another man`s wife, will he return to her again? Will not that land be utterly polluted? But you have committed fornication with many lovers. Yet return to Me, declares Jehovah" (Jer 3:1). And Isaiah: "For a short moment I forsook you, but with great compassion I will gather you. In a flood of wrath I hid my face from you for a moment, but with eternal lovingkindness I will have mercy on you, says Jehovah your Redeemer. For this is like the waters of Noah to Me, when I swore that the waters of Noah would not overflow the earth ever again, so I have sworn that I will not be angry with you, nor will I rebuke you. For the mountains may depart, and the hills may shake, but my lovingkindness will not depart from you, and my covenant of peace will not shake" (Isa 54:7-10).
The dying of the grain and its bearing much fruit are the symbols of God`s unchanging mercy towards men. They are no longer the problem that Isaiah presented, but its solution, the fulfillment of Isaiah`s words of peace to Israel. The parable of the sower was pronounced to bring in the solution. "The seed is the word of God" (Luke 8:11), said Jesus. When the word falls in the heart and dies, which means is opened up, the power of its life fully renews man.
But how we want the word to be sown only in one kind of people! How we want all believers to be alike! And how we also want the seed to grow into tree right away! We want to convince people and vanquish their understanding immediately. Thus we transform the preaching of the gospel in conflict, in an effort to disintegrate ways of thinking, feeling and acting. Such are the Crusades we see in today's Christian world.
Jesus did nothing comparable to this. He was and still is a mere sower. Two thousand years ago, he launched the grains to the soil. And as a good sower, he left all the rest to nature. That means to the nature of the word and of the heart. God's plan of salvation and lovingkindness is not implanting trees, but this grain of the word in the heart. And in spite of all the discrimination of men, in the heart does not mean in a certain kind of heart or in a certain standard of men, but in all kinds of hearts and in all kinds of men.
