Calling His Disciples (part 3)

Strangely, and though there is no mention of fishing in connection to their initial call, it is following the crucifixion, Resurrection, and appearance of Jesus that the Gospel of John provides the first inkling that the disciples had in fact been fishermen (though this fact was probably something that was well known to the early church community and the audience of the author of this Gospel).  In the twenty-first chapter the author writes: “After this Jesus revealed Himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias.  Now this is how He did so.  Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael (who was from Cana in Galilee), the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples of His were together” (21:1-2).  As an aside, the mention of Nathanael being from Cana in Galilee provides a clue as to why Jesus, His mother, and His disciples were at the wedding feast in Cana, the story of which is presented immediately following Jesus’ words to Nathanael at the close of the first chapter.  Returning to the text of the twenty-first chapter: “Simon Peter told them, ‘I am going fishing.’ ‘We will go with you,’ they replied.  They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing” (21:3) 

Where Mark, Matthew, and Luke have Jesus calling His first disciples in Galilee, John has them being called outside of Galilee, and there are no boats or fish anywhere in sight.  At the close of their narratives, Mark concludes with the report of the Resurrection, Luke (and Acts) has Jesus speaking to the disciples in Jerusalem, and Matthew has the disciples on a mountain in the Galilee.  John follows Matthew’s account, at least in terms of region, with the final appearance of Jesus to His disciples taking place in Galilee.  Ironically, Mark, Matthew, and Luke have the disciples fishing when Jesus first calls them, and it is an occupation to which they do not return, whereas John, which offers up a wholly different setting at the time of their calls, has the disciples off and fishing after Jesus makes His first post-Resurrection appearance to them, and it is at this time that they catch a great number of fish.      

The only other specific calling of a disciple recorded in the Gospels is that of Matthew, who is also called Levi.  Similar to the presentation of the calling of the first four, Mark reports that “Jesus went out again by the sea.  The whole crowd came to Him, and He taught them” (2:13).  Once again then, Jesus is near the sea of Galilee.  This time though, similar to Luke’s record of the calling of the first four, Jesus is in the act and process of teaching.  “As He went along, He saw Levi, the son of Alphaeus, sitting at the tax booth.  ‘Follow Me,’ He said to him.  And he got up and followed Him” (2:14).  Matthew says “As Jesus went on from there, He saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax booth.  ‘Follow Me,’ He said to him.  And he got up and followed Him” (9:9).  Luke writes that “After this, Jesus went out and saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at the tax booth.  ‘Follow Me,” He said to him.  And he got up and followed Him, leaving everything behind” (5:27-28). 

As can be seen, the synoptics are essentially univocal in their witness to this particular calling event.  To the contrary though, John does not present the call of Matthew.  In all three synoptic narratives, the calling of Matthew follows the healing of the paralyzed man that had been brought to Jesus by his friends.  In Matthew, there is a significant textual gap between the call of the first four disciples and the call of Matthew, but this gap is not to be found in Mark and Luke, as the call of Matthew comes quickly on the heels of the calling of Simon, Andrew, James, and John.  Not only do all three synoptic accounts of the call of Matthew follow immediately after the healing of the paralyzed man, what follows the record of the call is nearly identical in all three as well.  With the differences to be found in these Gospels, as they frequently diverge in their order of presentation, this nearly identical presentation of three events in sequence, with minor differences in detail, is quite remarkable. 

Love On John's Terms (part 7)

The second chapter of John begins with the story of Jesus and His disciples attending a wedding feast in Cana.  John’s report of Jesus’ actions at this wedding feast continue to aid in defining love on John’s terms.  There is not the space here to go into great detail (see the study entitled “Water Into Wine”), but when Jesus turns the water into wine, thus providing the best wine to those who are going to be served towards the end of the feast, He is making it possible for those at the lower end of the societal spectrum (less honorable) to enjoy something better than those at the higher end of society (the more honorable).  With his actions there, He provides an illustration of the last becoming first while the first become last, and in so doing teaches His disciples about preferring others, while also demonstrating what it will look like when the kingdom of the Creator God is present among them. 

In the fourth chapter of John, one encounters the story of Jesus and His conversation with a Samaritan woman.  This was taken to be a highly unusual event.  It is written that Jesus, while passing through Samaria, which was a customary practice of a Jew, “was tired from the journey” (4:6b), so He sat down next to a well.  The author reports that this well was known as “Jacob’s well” 4:6a), and that it was “near the plot of land that Jacob had given to his son Joseph” (4:5b).  Because these are not haphazard presentations, but calculated theological treatises, mention of a well, along with mentions of Jacob and Joseph, are clearly designed to cause the listener or the reader to reflect upon the patriarchs of Israel (and indeed Israel’s self-defining historical narrative).  It is unsurprising to find this to be the case, as there has already been a reflection back to Jacob at the close of the first chapter (“heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man”).

This talk of Jacob’s well is John’s Gospel is significant.  Without going into an exhaustive recounting of all of the instances in which they are to be found, let it be said that wells are a rather prominent feature of the Genesis narrative.  Wells are found in association with the stories of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  Of course, the words that open this Gospel account, “In the beginning” (1:1a), indicate that the author intends the Genesis narrative to lie consistently in the background as the story unfolds.  Beyond Genesis, wells are mentioned in connection with men such as David and Samson, among others, so it only seems natural that the story of Jesus would also include a story about a well. 

In addition to such thoughts, a cursory glance at the narrative itself demonstrates that the treatise of John is deeply rooted in the history of Israel---giving it a historical depth, which is a consideration that should weigh on the mind of the audience that, in the end, the author indeed intends to convey a message about a man that actually lived, actually died, actually rose again, and is still, by the presence of His Spirit, alive, well, and an abiding force within and for this world. 

This historical rooting is amplified when taking note of the fact that questions about John the Baptist are couched within concerns related to the prophet Elijah.  Along with that, Israel’s history is called upon in the encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus in the third chapter, as Jesus mentions Moses and alludes to Israel’s time in the wilderness following the exodus (which plays right into the exile and exodus theme that is found in John 3:16’s statement that contrasts perishing and eternal life).  So even though John offers up a very different type of historical narrative than that to which the modern reader may be accustomed, it is worth noting that the narrative is not to be looked upon as being ahistorical.

Corinth's Communion (part 6)

One must not short the understanding of what is being said by thinking of the Lord’s Supper as simply the bread and the cup of the communion.  The Lord’s Supper must here be understood in the context of the well understood tradition of the entire meal of Jesus and His disciples (and Jesus’ repeated meal practice), of what that meal and the specific and identifiable tool for remembrance and identification of kingdom participants that Jesus provided to His disciples at that meal, and of the hopes of the messianic banquet.  Thinking must be adjusted so that when the Lord’s Supper is considered, that thinking goes beyond just the bread and the cup of communion and of those few minutes of church services that are taken up by the practice.  Participants must force themselves to think of the Lord’s Supper in its larger context and against the background of the common meal practice of the ancient world.  

Moving then to the twenty-first verse, where the facts of the matter seem to become more glaring, Paul writes: “For when it is time to eat, everyone proceeds with his own supper.  One is hungry and another becomes drunk” (1 Corinthians 11:21).  With this, when considered along with what is now known about the banqueting tables of the ancient world, in which the most honored get the best food and drink, whereas those possessive of less honor get lesser food and drink, whereas some in attendance may get nothing at all, with service taking place in order of most honorable to least honorable.  Thus it becomes quite evident that Paul is taking issue with the meal practice of the Corinthian church. 

Reiterating then because this is important, this serves as a reminder of the common and accepted situation of banquets, in that the honored guests would eat first, and that they would also eat the best food while receiving the best wine, while the guests towards the other end of the social spectrum would have to wait to be served, and perhaps may not be served at all.  In practice, some guests could be full and drunk before other guests receive a single morsel of food. 

Here then, it is appropriate to reflect on the story of Jesus turning the water into wine at the wedding feast of Cana, and in the context of what Paul writes to this church, consider that the best wine was then going to be reserved for those that would be receiving their food and drink at the very end of the meal.  This would have been contrary to all custom, and serves as a reminder that Jesus regularly flouts societal customs that He believes to be out of step with the ideals of the presence of the kingdom of heaven (heaven, the realm of the Creator God’s existence, coming to earth and appearing where Jesus is and where those that believe in Him act according to what they believe to be His ideals).

Returning to consideration of Paul’s statement about one being hungry while another is drunk, it is important to remember that in some cases when it came to the meals of that time, invited guests would receive nothing at all.  In that time, such a situation would not necessarily have been thought to be a problem, especially if the honored guests (those possessive of more honor in the court of public opinion) had received their food and drink. 

It would appear that this altogether unfortunate situation was occurring within this church at their common meals.  Rather than demonstrating that they truly believed that all were one because of their belief in Jesus as the Christ, and that there was neither slave nor free, neither male nor female, and neither Jew nor Greek, there were divisions being put on display at the very meal that was supposed to be demonstrative of the messianic banquet, and to which they were apparently making reference as being the “Lord’s Supper.”  

Water Into Wine (part 7 of 8)

If a reader of the story was to have been present at the feast in Cana (and if the two protagonists of the scene were speaking English), it is likely that said reader would have heard the head steward putting a tremendous amount of emphasis on the word “you” when he says to the bridegroom “You have kept the good wine until now!”  Based on the presence of the honor competition in the honor and shame culture, and with the perceived intense slighting of the more honored guests perpetrated through the best wine now being served at the end of the feast to the less honored guests, this could certainly be seen as an attempt at self-preservation by the head steward. 

Yes, what the head steward is doing is protecting himself and his own honor.  He is not congratulating the bridegroom.  Almost assuredly, these words to the bridegroom would have been spoken in a manner that would allow them to be heard, and heard well by the honored guests, so that as and when the new and better wine begins to be enjoyed by those who would normally have received the inferior wine (if any at all), the honored guests, who have now become the insulted guests, will see that the head steward recognized their honor status and hence the problems inherent in the situation. 

The head steward, it would seem, wanted to position himself as being more concerned with the honor of these sure-to-be-offended guests than was the bridegroom, so that if and when the bridegroom relieved him of his duties as head steward, with this happening due to the public shaming that was now sure to be coming to the bridegroom because of the very words of the head steward and the service that was now taking place, he would be welcomed into the home of one of these other guests and charged with similar types of duties.  Most importantly, his own honor would be undiminished. 

Now it may seem as if the head steward is acting somewhat dishonorably here, but that would be over-reading the situation and ignoring a key feature provided by the text itself.  It is clear that the head steward did not know the source of the new wine.  The text is clear in its indication that he did not know, though the servants knew (John 2:9), while ironically also knowing that they were going to be the ones that got to drink the new wine, as regardless of the quality of the wine, the honored but insulted guests would not lower themselves to partake of the wine that was being provided to the servants and those at the tail end of the table service structure.  What was transpiring was unthinkable. Indeed, it would strike the honored guests as absolutely impossible that the wine served to the less honorable and the servants would be better than what had been served to them.   

Water Into Wine (part 4)

With his actions, Jesus has created a problematic situation for all involved.  This should not be overlooked.  There is a tendency to romanticize the words of Scripture, looking at them through goggles that distort the image that would have been easily seen and obvious to the first century author, reader, and hearer.  That distorted image can cause a distant or detached observer to hear the head steward going to the bridegroom and offering him a compliment in regards to his generosity and his unexpected grace, which has been put on display by lavishing the best wine upon his guests at the end of his party, clearly sparing no expense in so doing. 

From that distorted image, commentators often take it upon themselves to make an analogy about the grace of the Creator God as shown through Jesus, and perhaps even toss around a couple of ideas about the law as good wine, gifted by God, whereas the Gospel is an even better wine that has been saved for the end.  Consequently, Jesus is placed in the role of head steward, God the Father as presented as the obviously generous bridegroom, the servants that filled the purification jars (now obviously representing the strictures of the law---with an associated new wine versus old wineskin paradigm) representing the church, and the historical Jesus that speaks to the servants now functioning as more of a Holy Spirit figure, commanding the eager servants (the church). 

This popular mode of comprehension of the story of the wedding feast at Cana sets off something of a spiritualized, proof-texting binge in which this miracle is taken and folded in with other miracle reports in the Gospels as little more than evidences of the divinity of Jesus---as if the Gospels were merely meant to function in such a way.  In an even more entertaining venture, some attempt to use this event as Jesus’ own approbation of drinking alcoholic beverages, as if this occurrence was the Creator God’s way, through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit on the writers of Scripture, of legitimating what some consider to be a questionable activity. 

Amazingly and in the same vein, some individuals with equally narrow fields of vision as those who actually want to use this event as a sanction for the drinking of wine, endeavor to employ the miracle at this wedding feast as a polemic against the drinking of alcohol.  As surprising and antithetical as that may sound, the claim is made with the argument running along the lines of “because the wine was new, it had not had time to ferment and was therefore non-alcoholic.  This therefore means that the newly made wine was nothing more than grape juice, which is Jesus’ (and therefore the Creator God’s) way of informing the world that since this ‘wine’ (though it’s really just grape juice) is clearly recognized as being better than what had gotten everybody drunk to that point, then this is what the Creator God would prefer His people imbibe from this point.”  Both positions, of course, are equally ridiculous.  Any attempts to draw inferences for Christian practice in the area of beverage consumption from this miraculous intervention by Jesus and its presentation by the author of John, is an exercise in woefully missing the point.

Now, all of this is not to say that the world does not have a lavishly generous and unexpectedly gracious Creator God.  It is not to say that implausible or inappropriate to draw inferences from the events in the life of Jesus that will assist believers in their spirit-animated journey of faith as functionaries in this world on behalf of their God’s kingdom.  It is to say, however, that if one is not attuned to the real world importance of the life of Jesus, and if these stories are not properly shared and heard from within their historical, cultural, and social contexts, with every effort made to first understand them on their own terms as they would be understood by those who experienced them first-hand, then it is highly likely that the observer is going to miss out on the true theological richness that lies ready at hand, as Jesus does go about revealing the Creator God.  The fact must not be overlooked that this is, first and foremost, a real-world event happening to and with real-world people with real-world customs and concerns.

Water Into Wine (part 3)

A Latin poet named Martial, who lived just a few years after the time of Jesus, provides yet another interesting illustration of the honor and shame culture that played out at the banqueting tables of the ancient world.  In his work one finds: “Since I am asked to dinner… why is not the same dinner served to me as to you?  You take oysters fattened in the Lucrine lake, I suck a mussel through a hole in the shell; you get mushrooms, I take hog funguses; you tackle turbot, but I brill.  Golden with fat, a turtle-dove gorges you with its bloated rump; there is set before me magpie that has died in its cage.  Why do I recline with you?”  It is a simple thing to observe that there is a significant dichotomy of quality at play here in this setting.  By now, one should be able to begin making the mental analogy to Jesus’ conversion of water into wine? 

Considering what has been reported by both Pliny and Martial, and as one attempts to take up a position of observation and participation in that foreign and ancient world of which woefully little is known by most readers of Scripture, one would simply be amazed---indeed, all those in attendance at such a function would find themselves amazed if the very best food and the premium wine was served at the tail end of the banquet?  Amazement would be the order of the day, and the fact that such a thing happened would be the talk of the town for weeks on end, because such a thing would be a scandalous reversal of the expectations of those in attendance, and it would fly in the face of cultural norms.. 

So is that not what happens in Cana?  It is now possible to look at the story with a far better mental construct from which to operate.  Remember, Jesus was initially unconcerned but eventually involves Himself in the situation that has been brought to His attention by His mother.  When He does finally get involved, “Jesus told the servants, ‘Fill the water jars with water.’  So they filled them up to the very top.  Then He told them, ‘Now draw some out and take it to the head steward,’ and they did.  When the head steward tasted the water that had been turned to wine, not knowing where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), he called the bridegroom and said to him, ‘Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the cheaper wine when the guests are drunk.  You have kept the good wine until now!’” (John 2:7-10) 

As this passage is considered, the reader must be sure to avoid falling into the trap of thinking about parties in contemporary terms, thereby applying anachronisms or ideas too broadly that might naturally occur based on experiences that would be foreign to the Scriptural setting.  This is not an issue of simply throwing a party, making sure that everybody at the party gets the good drinks first, and then, once everybody at the entire party is drunk, bringing out the lower quality beverages and doing so at a time when attendees are less likely to care what they are imbibing.  This is, quite simply, not the situation at hand in Cana. 

As indicated by both Pliny and Martial, and as would be understood by all that would observe the events firsthand or learn about them secondhand (through the oral telling or the written Gospel record), there is an order of quality and an order of service.  The best food and the largest amount of food, along with the best and largest amount of wine, would as a matter of course go to the more honored or honorable guests, with the guests at the far end of the table, and therefore at the lower end of the social spectrum (less honor), left with items of much lower quality.

Water Into Wine (part 2)

Returning then to the wedding banquet that Jesus would have been attending, with it taking place in the context of a culture that overtly operated on the premises of honor and shame, those considered to be possessive of the least amount of honor would be seated at the far end of the table.  Thus, the banquet table in the ancient world would be an effective microcosm of the stratifications of the existing social order.

So how does this visible social stratification at the banqueting table have any bearing on Jesus turning the water into wine?  It would seem that it has much to do with the “when” of the miracle.  To understand the significance of what has happened, and to continue layering in levels of understanding, it is necessary to do some historical contextualizing so as to recover an aspect of the ancient world and its feasts that has been almost completely lost to the modern, western world. 

This effort at contextualization turns first to Pliny the younger, a magistrate of ancient Rome, who lived from the late first century into the early second century.  As a part of his writings, he provided information about feasts and community meals in and before his day, and his reports speak to the social order that is demonstrable in the service progressions in the meals.  In reference to a meal at which he was an honored guest (and so would have been seated adjacent to or quite near the host), Pliny writes: “Some very elegant dishes were served up to himself and a few more of the company; while those which were placed before the rest were cheap and paltry.  He apportioned in small flagons three different sorts of wines; but it was not that the guests might take their choice: on the contrary, that they might not choose at all.  One was for himself and me; the next for his friends of lower order (for you must know the measures of friendship according to degrees of quality); and the third for his own free men.” 

What Pliny here describes is quite common, and one can see how this report might be applied to painting an appropriate picture of the wedding feast at Cana and the attendant miraculous turning of the water into wine.  Pliny makes the point that while there were three different sorts of wines presented to the table, one should not be deluded into thinking that each person at the table was going to be able to choose which of the three wines they were going to take for themselves.  If all were looked upon as equals, this might be the case, but this was not the prevailing situation. 

It can here be seen that there were clear delineations made between and among guests.  In case the seating position relative to the host was not a sufficient indicator to a person of his perceived (and thus actual) societal ranking as adjudicated in the court of public opinion, the quality of the food and wine which he would find offered to him (which would also be connected to his seating position) would be a further indicator. 

Naturally and as one would expect, the host would have the finest wine and food served to his most honored guests, with the lesser wine served to those that were understood to be slightly less honorable (in this honor and shame society in which all competed to accrue honor and eschew shame---this would not be a commentary on someone’s character, but merely their public standing), with the poorest quality wine and food offered to those that were the least honorable, who also would have been seated the furthest away from him at the u-shaped table, if they were fortunate enough to be seated at the table at all (women, for instance, would not be seated at the table, but would be positioned in seats along the walls). 

Water Into Wine (part 1)

Now on the third day there was a wedding at Cana in Galilee. – John 2:1a  (NET)

At the beginning of this story, the author reports that “Jesus and His disciples” (John 2:2a) were invited to a wedding and its associated feast.  Quickly, the fact that there was a problem is encountered, which was that “the wine ran out” (2:3a).  As one might imagine, this is an issue.  For some reason, the fact that the supply of wine had been exhausted was of some concern to Jesus’ mother, so she is said to have taken it upon herself to inform Jesus that “They have no wine left” (2:3b).  Apparently, there was something about Jesus’ personality and character that caused His mother to think that Jesus would be interested in addressing this obviously pressing issue.  It would seem that Jesus’ mother was of the opinion that Jesus would take it upon Himself to fix this problem. 

However, based upon His initial response, Jesus does not sense that this is an issue in which He wants to involve Himself, saying “Woman, why are you saying this to Me?  My time has not yet come” (2:4).  Even though Jesus says this to His mother, Mary believes (with this apparently based on what she knows about her Son) that He is going to do something.  In accordance with that belief, she “told the servants, ‘Whatever He tells you, do it.’” (2:5)  Most likely, though one knows not how long, some time elapsed between the time at which Mary speaks to the servants and Jesus’ reported act of intervention in the problem at hand.  Eventually, and though the story does not set forth an overt reason for it, Jesus is spurred into action.  For some reason, though He had seemed uninterested when first told of the wine shortage, Jesus takes action to correct the situation. 

Why is the fact that there is no wine a problem?  Why is Mary concerned with this?  Why does she think Jesus will be interested in involving Himself to rectify the situation?  Why does the author of this Gospel see fit to include this story?  The answers to these questions come through an examination of the setting and the culture.  In the end, this becomes an opportunity for Jesus to provide instruction (albeit indirectly) to those in attendance.  Ultimately, it appears that the author of the Gospel of John finds it useful to include this story because it serves to provide elucidating information about the nature of Jesus’ kingdom and His mission. 

In order to understand the goings-on here in Cana, one must make an effort to understand the nature of feasts in the world occupied by Jesus.  When it came to feasts (or really any public meal in general), there were rules in place for the table.  For all practical purposes, meals were miniaturized pictures of the society in which they were taking place, and there were “rules” (unwritten though they may be) governing association and socialization in meals and other areas of life.  Importantly, the positioning of guests around a meal table was a visible demonstration of social hierarchy and political differentiation. 

What was quite common in the ancient world, and which can be safely presumed was present at this particular meal as a matter of course, was a u-shaped table known as a “triclinium.”  Banquets were organized around this table, using dining couches, with the host sitting at the center of the bottom of the “u”, with the two most prominent positions of honor to the right and to the left of the host.  This arrangement should be entirely unfamiliar, as even though there is not an ongoing overt honor and shame culture (and its associated competition for honor as a limited public good) in the western world, public occasions that include a meal in the world of today are generally arranged somewhat accordingly, with those more important to the organizer or the host or the cause seated closer to the front of the room, whereas those that are considered less important seated further away.  A major difference, of course, is that the seating does not necessarily reflect the attendees’ standing in the wider culture, and (at least in the western world) there are no hard and fast application of unwritten rules based on public perception.