Invitations (part 2)

This is where it gets even more interesting, and also where the narrative connections, both that of Jesus in Luke/Acts and Jesus inside the Creator God’s plan, take over and are revealed.  As has already been seen, “…The the master of the household was furious at the report of the excuses for lack of attendance at the banquet and said to his slave “Go out quickly to the streets and alleys of the city, and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.”  Then the slave said, “Sir, what you instructed has been done, and there is still room.”  So the master said to his slave, “Go out to the highways and the country roads and urge people to come in, so that my house will be filled” (14:21b-23).  How does this fit within the over-arching Biblical narrative? 

Taking in the whole scope of Scripture, the offering of excuses should remind an observer of the oft-repeated offering of excuses to be found within the pages of the sacred writ.  While one can think about the excuses on offer from Jeremiah, Saul, Gideon, and Moses, as to why the Creator God could not effectively use them, one can here be sent all the way back to the very first excuses of Scripture, which are to be found in the opening pages of Genesis.  There, effectively, the Creator God had made preparations for something wonderful (a banquet of sorts) and sent out His invitations.  Those invitations, of course, were extended to the first divine image-bearers, that being Adam and Eve. 

“God created humankind in His own image, in the image of God He created them, male and female He created them” (1:27).  It is then that a directive (an invitation) is given to this pair.  They are invited to partake in the Creator’s intentions for His world.  “God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply!  Fill the earth and subdue it!  Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and every creature that moves on the ground.’” (1:28) 

Without getting into the order of the creation accounts on offer in chapters one and two, the reader will go on to learn that “The Lord God took the man and placed him in the orchard in Eden to care for it and to maintain it.  Then the Lord God commanded the man, ‘You may freely eat fruit from every tree of the orchard, but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will surely die” (2:15-17).  With this, the invitation takes on specificity. 

Shortly thereafter, at least in terms of the narrative, it is reported that “the serpent was more shrewd than any of the wild animals that the Lord God had made.  He said to the woman, ‘Is it really true that God said, “You must not eat from any tree of the orchard?”  The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit from the trees of the orchard; but concerning the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the orchard God said, ‘You must not eat from it, and you must not touch it, or else you will die.’”’” (3:1-3) 

Without offering up the remainder of this part of the story, as all should be quite familiar with how it turned out, suffice it to say that both Adam and Eve ate from the tree, thereby introducing death into the world.  They rejected the Creator’s invitation.  Then what did they do?  They offered up excuses.  The Creator God asked “Did you eat from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?” (3:11b)  What was Adam’s excuse?  “The woman whom You gave me, she gave me some fruit from the tree and I ate it” (3:12).  What was Eve’s excuse?  “The serpent tricked me, and I ate” (3:13b). 

Understandably, the covenant God is angry with these individuals that have now declined His invitation of participation in His purposes.  However, what the big picture of Scripture reveals is that the same God re-directs His anger.  That re-direction begins, in earnest, in chapter twelve of Genesis, when the covenant God invites Abraham (Abram) to participate in His plan.  Abraham’s (Abram’s) acceptance of the Creator God’s gracious invitation is prelude to, and because of the promise of descendants, looks toward Israel’s invitation to participate with their God in His plans for the redemption of the entire creation. 

Compassionate Brother (part 18 of 18)

In the parable of the prodigal, the younger son returns home, doing so with the knowledge that he is taking a risk and potentially putting his life in jeopardy.  If he is seen and recognized by the community, he is possibly going to be subject to stoning at worst, and a very public ceremony of shaming at best.  However, Jesus says that “while he was still a long way from home his father saw him, and his heart went out to him: he ran and hugged his son and kissed him” (Luke 15:20b).  Like Esau running to Jacob, the compassionate father ran to his son, subjecting himself to loss of honor (increase in shame).  As is said of Esau, who did not take it upon himself to inflict pain and suffering on Jacob, the compassionate father, following the model of the compassionate brother, shamed and dishonored himself, rather than allowing his son to suffer. 

As Esau hugged and kissed his brother, enduring the shame and extending compassion, so too did the father and true star of the parable hug and kiss his son, in a similar demonstration of merciful compassion.  The son of the parable attempted to execute the plan that he formulated and rehearsed, but before he was able to deliver his prepared speech, the father cuts him off and restores him to the position of honor as if he had never wronged his father, his family, or his community.  Likewise, Jacob’s planning and preparations were wholly unnecessary, as Esau welcomed him with open arms, celebrating a joyous reunion with no apparent thought of retribution or a need to re-pay (thought Jacob is revealed to not be fully convinced of his brother’s compassion). 

The father in the parable exclaims that “this son of mine was dead, and is alive again---he was lost and is found!” (15:24a).  Esau, who had wished his brother dead, and to whom he was effectively dead, celebrates the return of his brother---alive again.  Here are the stories of a compassionate brother and a compassionate father, who dealt with a brother and a son whose stories shared some common features.  Both had been dishonored and both had been shamed.  Both had the right to take vengeance.  Both exercised compassion. 

Both stories, as told to and for a people of the covenant-making and providential Creator God that seeks to reconcile His image-bearers and His world to Himself, reveal a God that revels in compassion---willing to take the pain and shame and suffering that rightfully belong to others upon Himself (there was no greater shame than the curse of the cross) so as to set His world to rights, restore the beings created and set forth as His image in the world, and show forth His kingdom and His glory.           

Compassionate Brother (part 16)

With the gifts of a substantial number of animals, the words of the messengers, the bowing before Esau, and the repeated use of “servant” and “lord,” that plan could be seen unfolding.  However, it was also seen that Esau felt these things to have been completely unnecessary, as he runs to his brother, welcoming him with open arms and demonstrating compassion in his words and actions.  Basically, though Esau will begrudgingly accept the gifts that are on offer from his brother, Jacob’s well-rehearsed plan is dismissed out of hand, as Esau counters Jacob’s attempt to attract shame to himself in order to elevate his aggrieved brother. 

In stark contrast and as something of a reversal, Esau’s own actions bring shame upon himself, as he runs to his brother and refrains from taking action to avenge the dishonor done to him many years prior.  Whereas Jacob expected conflict, Esau appeared to be in favor of celebration.  Though Jacob had been dead to him, and though part of the plot was the thought that Esau had wanted him dead, it was now as if Jacob had returned to life.      

Though it has taken some work to get to this point, this story of the compassionate brother sounds remarkably similar to a story that would eventually be offered up by Jesus.  Though Esau generally gets a bad rap, and though there is precious little positive talk of Esau in Scriptures, perhaps the man who regularly dined with tax collectors and sinners, who offered up stories commending “unjust” stewards and good Samaritans, and generally opened up the kingdom of God to what were considered to be all the wrong people, had the story of Esau as the compassionate brother in mind when He offered up the parable of the compassionate father (often incorrectly labeled as the parable of the prodigal son). 

In that story, Jesus tells about a man with two sons.  The younger of the two demanded that his father give him the assets that would eventually come to him upon his father’s death.  This is the equivalent of wishing his father dead, which would have been well understood by those that would hear this tale from the lips of Jesus.  The father, who would be immensely dishonored by this action (the family would also suffer dishonor in the community), accedes to his son’s wishes. 

Though this is not precisely what happened with Isaac and his two sons, Isaac insisted on blessing Esau (the older son), indicating that he wanted to do so before he died.  However, rather than Esau receiving the blessing as the firstborn, the blessing fell to Jacob.  In the parable, as it is presented by Jesus, the son dishonored his father by his request, just as Jacob dishonored his father.  In both cases, the father has every right to take vengeance on his son, but he restrains himself.  There is compassion in evidence. 

In the parable, reports of the actions of the son would have quickly spread through the community, creating a growing hostility towards this presumptuous and shameful son.  It is not unreasonable to suggest that his life would have possibly been in jeopardy (as was Jacob’s), so it is quite likely that he quickly sells the assets in order to gain liquidity and leaves.  As did Jacob, with possible death looming, the son leaves on a journey to a distant country.  Jesus informs His hearers that the son “squandered his wealth with a wild lifestyle” (Luke 15:13b).  

Compassionate Brother (part 12)

Jacob extended his instructions, as he “gave these instructions to the second and third servants, as well as all those who were following the herds, saying ‘You must say the same thing to Esau when you meet him.  You must also say, “In fact your servant Jacob is behind us!”’” (Genesis 32:19-20)  Notice the language that is being used.  Jacob is asking his servants to refer to him, before Esau, as “your servant,” while also asking them to refer to Esau as “my lord.”  The goings-on could not be more obvious. 

Jacob’s plan is now in full effect.  He knows that this must be done in order to, as he hopes, deflect the vengeance that he knows is due him.  The author confirms this, once again sharing a thought process (with this forming part of the oral tradition that had, no doubt, been passed down through the generations beginning with Jacob’s own telling, before it would be composed in written form), in which “Jacob thought, ‘I will first appease him by sending a gift ahead of me.  After that I will meet him.  Perhaps he will accept me.’” (32:20b)  This process of appeasement would be terribly important, as Jacob, dishonored his father, his brother, himself (shaming himself), and his entire family, is well aware that he deserves something far different.

The thirty-third chapter (though it is necessary to always be cognizant of the fact that there would have been no chapter and verse divisions, especially considering that the primary means of conveying the story would have been orally rather than as a written story to be read) begins rather ominously for the hopeful Jacob.  “Jacob looked up and saw that Esau was coming along with four hundred men” (33:1).  At this point, the herds of animals have already been presented to Esau.  The servants have already made repeated references to Jacob as Esau’s servant.  Esau has already heard himself referred to as lord on a number of occasions.  Yet here he is, coming with his four hundred men. 

What must Jacob be thinking at this point?  If this story was being told afresh into a community shaped by honor and shame concerns, or if it is being read for the first time by an individual who has grown up steeped in a culture that values honor and shame, what would the hearer or reader be thinking?  Clearly, Jacob is still fearful.  He can probably surmise that his plan has been unsuccessful to this point.  Taking further steps, “he divided the children among Leah, Rachel, and the two female servants” (33:1b).  These, lest it has been forgotten, are Bilhah and Zilpah---his other two wives.  “He put the servants and their children in front, with Leah and her children behind them, and Rachel and Joseph behind them” (33:2).

Jacob, with what would appear to be a lavish display of humility on his part, and in a last ditch effort to avert his brother’s wrath (while also knowing that, if he survives, he will still have to deal with the wrath of his dis-honored father), “went on ahead of them, and he bowed toward the ground seven times as he approached his brother” (33:3).  One should not underestimate what this would have communicated to all involved---Esau included. 

Jacob is actively humbling himself.  He is divesting himself of his honor, and demonstrating that he is willing to shame himself before his brother.  The total effort has been a substantial gesture, indicating Jacob’s penitent spirit and his willingness to do whatever it takes to rectify the shame while preserving his own life.  So how does Esau respond?  To what would be the astonishment of those hearing or reading the story, “Esau ran to meet him, embraced him, hugged his neck, and kissed him.  Then they both wept” (33:4). 

Ahab, Jezebel & A Vineyard (part 2 of 2)

So what happens with this plan that has been set in motion by Jezebel?  As directed, “The men of the city, the leaders and the nobles who lived there, followed the written orders Jezebel had sent them” (1 Kings 21:11), unaware of the source of the orders, and believing that they had come from the king.  With this belief in mind as the story is read, one can surmise that it is doubtful that the original communication that was presumed to have come from Ahab used the term “villains” (at least, not in the way that some tend to think of villains---in reality, they were the unwitting dupes of an oppressor). 

Ultimately, the men who carried out these orders would have believed that they were simply acting in accordance with the demands of justice.  As far as they knew, and regardless of his honor standing in the community, one would suppose that there would be little reason for them to think otherwise, Naboth had actually done that of which he was accused.  Accordingly, they would be predisposed to believe that he was indeed deserving of the rightful judgment that they knew would take place.  Jezebel took advantage of this situation.  So “They observed a time of fasting and put Naboth in front of the people.  The two villains arrived and sat opposite him.  Then the villains testified against Naboth right before the people” (21:12-13a), as this would have been a gathering of the entire community, “saying ‘Naboth cursed God and the king.’” (21:13b) 

Just as the community leaders were not necessarily complicit in this act of injustice, neither were those who testified against Naboth.  Again, as far as they knew, this information and directive came from the king himself.  Predictably, “they dragged him outside the city and stoned him to death” (21:13c). 

It would seem that this horrible achievement of Naboth’s death was predicated on honor and the meal table.  The two “villains” that were set opposite Naboth would be seated to his right and left, in what would likely have been the positions of greatest honor at a meal or any community gathering.  These persons that were seated immediately to the right and to the left of the chief seat could also have been presumed to be possessive of even greater honor than the one seated in the host position, and these two men would not have been unknown to the community.  If there were unknown, or known to be men of lesser honor, their testimony would not have been acted upon so seriously. 

Accordingly then, when these two men, who were undoubtedly well-respected men of the community and not simple villains whose words would carry no weight with the community, offered these words of testimony about Naboth, their testimony would have been presumed to be truthful and would have carried a tremendous amount of weight.  Thus the resulting fate of Naboth.  

Clearly then, when the opportunity is taken to move past a merely superficial reading of the story of Ahab, Jezebel, Naboth, and the vineyard, one can conclude that the story is less about Jezebel (who is undoubtedly cast as a villain) and Ahab, and much more about the abuse of power, corruption, and injustice that so often accompanies unnecessary acquisitiveness (desire to continually acquire things).  It is not primarily (or even necessarily) a story about a rebellious wife usurping her husband’s authority and lording over him, or the story of a weak man and husband, as it is so often portrayed.  It is a story of oppression and murder that is brought about by a perverted use of the very provisions of justice that were put in place by the Creator God so as to enable His image-bearers to reflect His glory.