Timothy & Countering The Culture (part 26)

Taken together then, not only do the words sound very similar to that which is spoken of widows (“for some have already wandered away to follow Satan”), but combined with the need to be well thought of by those outside the faith, one can here sense a prohibition against being a gossip or a busybody, about being lazy, and about going from house to house talking about things they should not.  There’s no reason to believe that this is somehow the exclusive domain of women. 

If this is what will give the adversary the opportunity to vilify the church when such activities are undertaken by the widows (those normally dismissed by the wider culture), how much more than when the overseers of the meal table---the ones who would naturally be looked upon with as leaders of the assembly by the surrounding world (though they do not hold a formal position)---engage in the same.  Concurrently, one can notice that the same words are not applied to deacons. 

This is understandable, because as table servants they would not be accorded the same type of respect by those outside the church as would the meal overseer, though those who serve are accorded the highest honor within the church.  Such is the nature of Paul’s witness to the church, as he always has his eye on the church’s interaction with the culture and its need to be a counter-balance to the stifling of true humanity that takes place in the cultures that do not bow the knee to the Lordship of Jesus.

Finally, rounding out his words for Timothy and the church in regards to widows, having given this group a seemingly inordinate amount of attention, Paul writes “If a believing woman has widows in her family, let her help them.  The church should not be burdened, so that it may help the widows who are truly in need” (1 Timothy 5:16).  While Paul’s words clearly operate at a level that allows the church for all time to ascertain direction and ideals, one can’t help but believe that Paul has some specific people in mind here as he writes. 

There is little reason to think otherwise, and there is even less reason---considering the fact that Paul is dealing with specific situations that have arisen in the church letters---to imagine that Paul is suggesting guidelines to be applied to the church universally and for all time.  What should get a reader’s attention, when considering how to apply these words of Paul, are the counter-cultural elements and the implications for service within the church and the church’s interaction with the world. 

One stumbles dangerously into anachronisms when losing sight of the fact that Paul writes to real people, in real churches, at a definite time in history, dealing with real and pressing situations as the church sought to find its way in representing the kingdom of the Creator God while standing against the forces, though defeated by the cross and by the Resurrection, that sought to infiltrate and destroy the people of that God---attempting to destroy the church’s ability to stand as witness to its sovereign Lord. 

When taking the honor and shame competition of the day into consideration, while also considering the possibility that in all of this talk (concerning overseers, deacons, and widows), Paul has certain problematic individuals in view, one can move helpfully away from reading this letter solely as some tractate concerning church discipline, and instead read it as a clarion call to a church, through the apostle’s emissary, to continue to align itself with kingdom ideals, seeking the way of the cross and of shame, as all honor continues to accrue to Jesus. 

Timothy & Countering The Culture (part 17)

Despite what could be viewed as the short-sightedness of the disciples with their statements about the ministry of the word of God and praying, and their setting that against their own taking up of the role of slaves at the church’s meal tables, the church prospered.  Luke writes that “The proposal pleased the entire group” (Acts 6:5a).  Seven men were chosen as deacons (diakonous in the Greek, which means “servants”).  “They stood these men before the apostles, who prayed and placed their hands upon them” (6:6).

Not surprisingly then, with service at the root of the church’s witness, and men chosen specifically to serve food to widows (and all who came to the table, with no distinctions or divisions), “The word of God continued to spread, the number of disciples in Jerusalem increased greatly, and a large group of priests became obedient to the faith” (6:7).  With this success in mind, and this success much owing to the counter-cultural witness of servanthood by the ambassadors of the kingdom of the Creator God, it is possible to step back and wonder if it is possible to imagine Jesus creating this division of labor.  While believers stand in the stream of that Spirit-led success, can they dream about the church that may have developed had the very men that were looked to as the pillars and foundation of the church, been the ones that had served all, in full equality, at the church’s meal table?  What divisions may have been avoided had the church of the Christ had this example from which to draw?

Luke moves directly from the ordination of the group that came to be referred to as deacons, to the particular story of one of those men---a man by the name of Stephen.  Stephen, who is said to be “a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit” (6:5b), which was one of the requirements as suggested by the disciples, served admirably.  One goes on to read that “Stephen, full of grace and power, was performing great wonders and miraculous signs among the people” (6:8).

As this performance of wonders and signs was undoubtedly linked to the fact of his service at the church’s meal table, and as it was owing to the covenant God’s special attention to widows as revealed by the Hebrew Scriptures, his service to widows must figure prominently in the Spirit’s growing presence in his ministry.  Might it also be presumed that the people wondered at what they were seeing from Stephen, which was his willful service to the least, eschewing both honor and shame?

While many are transfixed on signs and wonders, looking to such things as the evidence of the Spirit’s working, the working of the Spirit is just as present and just as powerful when a widow is served.  When that widow is served in a way that stands in sharp distinction from the way that she would normally be treated by her culture, with somebody sacrificing their own honor and prestige in order to see to it that she is served, then that is just as great a wonder and sign of the in-breaking kingdom of the Creator God as would be someone being raised from the dead.

However, rather than receiving honor and praise, Stephen would come to be accused of blasphemy, of speaking against the Temple and Moses, and was ultimately sentenced to death, experiencing the pain and shame of stoning.  This was the honor that one could come to expect from being a deacon---a servant of the church’s table.  This is the example that Paul, if indeed he is the author of this letter, would have in mind when writing to Timothy concerning deacons.

Speaking In Tongues (part 9)

Now it is possible to read through Paul’s Corinthian correspondence against the appropriate backdrop of the prizing of rhetorical skill and the honor competition and assignment associated with public speech acts.  In this, one gets the distinct impression that Paul did not quite measure up in this area.  It appears that some of the Corinthian believers derided Paul, going so far as to question his apostolic credentials, simply because, in his speeches before the assembled church community, he failed to employ the rhetoric and rhetorical skill that was so-highly-valued.  At the same time however, Paul had no difficulty whatsoever in deploying his rhetorical arsenal in his written communications. 

One can see evidence of this attitude towards Paul in the second Corinthian letter, when reading “For they say, ‘His letters are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak and his speeches of no account.’” (10:10)  It seems that they were uncomfortable with the idea that the person to whom they pointed as the presumptive founder of their community was not able to command respect through his public speaking.  Thus, because Paul was unable to accrue honor for himself through his rhetorical abilities, the community was also going to be unable to accrue honor.   

This goes a long way towards understanding the divisiveness in the Corinthian church that Paul references in the third chapter of the first letter.  Paul writes “For whenever someone says, ‘I am with Paul,’ or ‘I am with Apollos,’ are you not merely human?  What is Apollos really?  Or what is Paul?  Servants through whom you came to believe, and each of us in the ministry the Lord gave us.  I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused it to grow” (3:4-6).  Apollos, according to the eighteenth chapter of Acts, “was an eloquent speaker, well-versed in the Scriptures.  He had been instructed in the way of the Lord, and with great enthusiasm he spoke and taught accurately the facts about Jesus, although he knew only the baptism of John.  He began to speak out fearlessly in the synagogue” (18:24b-26a).  Chapter nineteen commences with mention of Apollos in Corinth, while Paul is in Ephesus. 

Apparently, Apollos put his skills to use in service of the church at Corinth, with his eloquent speech causing some to see him in a more positive light than Paul (read: more honorable).  One should not immediately surmise that Apollos was somehow in competition with Paul, but with some understanding of the honor and shame culture, it is not difficult to figure out that his rhetorical abilities caused him to be assigned honor in a way to which Paul apparently did not have the same access.  Thus, again, because Apollos could accrue honor through the use of his rhetorical skills, so too could a community that he led accrue honor.

Paul, without condemning or criticizing Apollos, his speaking, his eloquence, or his learning, refocuses the Corinthian believers by criticizing them and their continued introduction of societal (old age) values into the church as they elevated and assigned honor to one based on accepted custom.  Paul attempted to make sure that they understood that both he and Apollos were nothing more than servants (diakonoi in Greek, those who were assigned to “wait on tables” in Acts 6), and that honor was to be assigned to the one that they served (both the believers and the Creator God).  Paul stresses the unity and equality between he and Apollos in their role of servants, disavowing the attempts at elevation and emphasizing the need for the same amongst the congregation of believers, writing “The one who plants and the one who waters work as one, but each will receive his reward according to his work.  We are coworkers belonging to God.  You are God’s field, God’s building” (3:8-9). 

Galatians & Giving (part 7)

The bottom line for this and every Jesus community was that “through love,” they were to “serve one another” (Galatians 5:13b).  Though this can be heard in the general sense of Christian service, it can also be taken more literally as Paul can be heard insisting that all were and are to take the opportunity to be servants at the meal table.  Just because somebody was responsible for serving at meal tables (women, slaves) outside the church gathering, that did not automatically mean that they were to be the servants at the church gathering.  In fact, the church and the Gospel may very well have insisted upon the opposite.  Regardless of that possibility, Paul insists that the appropriate attitude is “You must love your neighbor as yourself” (5:14b); and just as their service was not some generalized service, so too this “love” was not some general, undefined love. 

To that end, Paul quotes from the nineteenth chapter of Leviticus, making allusion to all that surrounds the specific quotation.  Further insight into the social dynamic that is at work can be gained by looking to that passage in Leviticus and finding “You must not deal unjustly in judgment: you must neither show partiality to the poor nor honor the rich.  You must judge your fellow citizen fairly.  You must not go about as a slanderer among your people.  You must not stand idly by when your neighbor’s life is at stake.  I am the Lord.  You must not hate your brother in your heart.  You must surely reprove your fellow citizen so that you do not incur sin on account of him.  You must not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the children of your people, but you must love your neighbor as yourself.  I am the Lord.  You must keep My statutes” (19:15-19a).  It would seem clear that Paul has this in mind when he appends his thoughts, adding “However, if you continually bite and devour one another, beware that you are not consumed by one another” (5:15).  Interestingly enough, it would seem that talk of biting, devouring, and consuming can be understood as language that is connected to a meal table. 

Bearing in mind the Levitical allusion, and even though there is some intervening material dealing with the operation of the Spirit and the subsequent contrast between the works of the Spirit and the works of the flesh, does one not hear the Levitical pronouncement heavily informing the introduction to the sixth chapter, when Paul speaks and says “Brothers and sisters, if a person is discovered in some sin, you who are spiritual restore such a person in a spirit of gentleness.  Pay close attention to yourselves, so that you are not tempted too.  Carry one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (6:1-2)? 

Certainly, the words that lead into the opening statement of the sixth chapter could be brought into service here, as Paul writes “Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, being jealous of one another” (5:26).  When these words are heard at a mixed meal table, where all are cognizant of the wide range of potential sources of divisions and classifications and groupings that would be a natural component of every other meal gathering that would be known and even participated in on a regular basis by those that compose the church of Galatia, they should take on an even more profound meaning.    

Compassionate Brother (part 15)

One could go on at great length in discussing the honor and shame connotations so as to be able to gain a more robust reading of Scripture, but it seems as if the point has been made.  Considerations of honor and shame are more than necessary if there is a desire to rightly understand the stories and movement of Scripture, as this cultural component looms large.  Approaching the text from this angle allows a reader to make sense of the stories on their own terms, rather than reading terms and ideas into them (however noble or uplifting those things might be) that simply are not there. 

Additionally, as was previously said, proceeding along these lines allows for the narrative to be heard as it would have been heard by the people for whom it was written, while also allowing for a better comprehension of the movement of Scripture, and therefore an enhanced ability to comprehend and serve the God that is said to be revealed in and through those Scriptures.  This then, of course, allows a divine image-bearer to better understand the words and deeds of the God that was made manifest in human form, that being Jesus of Nazareth.    

So what has been seen in the course of this study?  What is it that prompted travel down the path that has revealed that Esau, perhaps surprisingly, was the compassionate brother?  To answer that question, the story of Jacob must be reviewed in broad terms.  Jacob, as is known, was one of two sons.  He was the younger of fraternal twins.  In a deceptive and dishonorable action, he secured for himself the blessing of his (purportedly dying---a deception in its own right) father---a blessing that rightfully belonged to his brother.  This generated anger on behalf of his brother, and most likely on the part of his father as well (due to the shame that would have been generated by the deception).  It is said that his brother was determined to kill him, so rather than staying, Jacob left, putting distance between himself and those that he had dishonored, ending up in the house of his uncle Laban. 

As was seen, Jacob lived a rather interesting and tumultuous life.  In particular, the report of his wives competing for his attention and his affection, with them offering up their female servants as wives to their husband, is revealed as being rather riotous.  When one considers the lifestyle, the adjective “wild” comes to mind.  By all indications he worked very hard for his uncle.  It appears to be the case that his labor served to increase his uncle’s wealth (and honor), but when it came to his own wealth, possessions, and honor, though he had surreptitiously secured the blessing of his father (which promised the richness of the earth along with plenty of grain and new wine), it was as if his life was gripped by famine.  Seeking to rectify this situation, he struck a deal with his uncle.  Though at first it seems like a legitimate agreement, closer inspection reveals that Laban may very well have intended to cause Jacob to become discouraged and despondent over his situation, possibly hopeful that this would result in Jacob leaving (and leaving behind his wives and children that would have been the property of his uncle). 

Eventually, after realizing that there was nothing more to be gained by staying where he was, and continuing to live in what was going to be a difficult and ultimately unsatisfying situation, Jacob expresses a desire to return to his father’s house.  He shares with his wives the reasons for acting on this desire.  However, there is the problem of his dishonored and angry brother, not to mention the dishonored and angry father, whose son had brought shame on the entire family.  Jacob had no idea how Esau would respond, and he figured that it was likely that he would meet up with Esau somewhere along the journey to his father’s house.  With this in mind, he devises a plan by which he will attempt to soothe his brother, even if it means dishonor for himself. 

Water Into Wine (part 8 of 8)

To assist in further explaining the head steward’s words and actions towards the bridegroom, one must bear in mind that as far as he is concerned, it is in fact the bridegroom that has provided this new wine.  This is truly the only reasonable assessment at hand.  If this is so, then for some reason the bridegroom has gone behind the back of the head steward and colluded against him in this area, in what could be easily understood to be an attempt to make him look bad before the community. 

Also, the head steward would be completely justified in thinking that, for some reason, the bridegroom was making an overt attempt to dishonor his honored guests by purposely not providing them with the best wine.  The head steward, apparently, is not only not willing to let this blame be put on him, thereby letting the scheming bridegroom off the hook, he is also not willing to go along with the dishonoring that he sees taking place. 

Finally, and though things should probably not be pushed too far in this area, it should be noted that the wine was produced in the “six stone water jars… for Jewish ceremonial washing” (John 2:6b).  For reasons of purity, ceremonial washing was of crucial importance.  These ceremonial washings may have been limited to the hands, but one can also bear in mind the incident recorded in the seventh chapter of Luke, in which Jesus, while a woman is washing His feet with her hair, mentions to Simon that He had not had his feet washed when He entered Simon’s house. 

So it is within the realm of possibility that these jars had been the jars employed in the washing of the guests hands and feet as they arrived for the wedding feast.  If this is so, then the servants of the house would have been employed in this process, as they assisted the attendees in the process of washing, and perhaps were even completely responsible for doing the washing of the feet themselves.  It is these servants then, who are part of the group of people will be drinking the best wine, which now flows from out of their jars of service. 

With this, those at the party and those learning about the party afterwards through either the social network or via the text, are able to witness the first becoming last (ironically because they refuse to drink the better wine being served at the end of the meal), while the last become first (as those who had been relegated, due to the prevailing social structure, to the end of the meal now drink the finest wine).  As this thought is entertained, it is quite useful to hear the author say “Jesus did this as the first of His miraculous signs” (2:11a), with the first becoming last and the last becoming first.  “In this way He revealed His glory” (2:11b) and the advent of the kingdom of the Creator God.

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 6)

Rather than looking upon this sharing of the best wine at the latter end of the wedding feast as an act of considerable generosity and thoughtfulness on the behalf of this bridegroom, which some may be prone to do, this would be readily perceived as a slight to his honored guests.  Questions would arise.  Why was it that they not receive this wine?  Why was it that they were not thought to be good enough to receive these superior libations? 

It would be wondered why the bridegroom was mocking his guests in this way.  Rather than being enjoyed by the elites and those in the community that possessed the most honor according to the court of public opinion and reputation, the best wine is now going to be enjoyed by the servants and less honored guests, thus putting those that were less honorable on the same level as the honored guests.  Worse still, what this would have accomplished at the level of perception (which is what mattered), this elevated those that were possessive of less honor above the honored guests, which could be perceived as an insult to honor, thereby becoming a source of conflict for the bridegroom and his family (as well as the family of the bride).  

The head steward, as indicated by the presentation of the author of the text, comes to realize the dynamics that are now at play.  It is interesting that the author includes the information that the head steward of the feast did not know the source of the wine (John 2:9), and it is upon his tasting of the wine that he is spurred into action.  The actions that follow, which are often interpreted as his commendation of the bridegroom, can only be so interpreted outside the context of cultural meal practice and the social constructs that are on display in the meal. 

Rather than interpreting his actions in this way, what can also be realized is that the head steward, as he thinks about all of the problems that have now been presented to both him and the bridegroom due to the revelation of this new and better wine that is now being served at the end of the meal, must take quick action on his own behalf, so as to preserve his own place of honor and standing in the community (whatever that may have been).  If he does not take these actions, it is he that runs the risk of being shamed, and this is what can be understood to be playing out in the story. 

The head steward, of course, is the master of the feast.  Chief among his duties would be the duty to see to it that the most honored guests had received the best wine and the best food.  This is crucial.  Now, unbeknownst to him, and certainly without his approval, the best wine is going to go to the guests at the lower end of the honor spectrum.  Among other things, this would mean that the head steward had not done his job, thus he would be shamed (though this shaming would not stop with him). 

Thinking quickly then, the steward makes his way to the bridegroom and says “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the cheaper wine when the guests are drunk.  You have kept the good wine until now!” (2:10)  Again, one must resist the temptation to think of this as simply a matter of the head steward offering some type of praise to the bridegroom for his unexpected generosity.  This is much more likely to be the head steward’s attempt to shift the negative reactions that are sure to come, along with the associated dishonoring that is bound to take place, on to the bridegroom and away from himself. 

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.

Nebuchadnezzar's Fall (part 5)

As man is driven from the good and bountiful garden, which had freely yielded the fruit of the trees for his sustenance, he is informed about a different way that his food is going to come to him from that point forward.  The Creator God told Adam, “cursed is the ground thanks to you; in painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life.  It will produce thorns and thistles for you, but you will eat the grain of the field” (Genesis 3:17b-18).  This eating of the grain of the field---of what grows from the ground---could be likened to Nebuchadnezzar’s being “fed grass like oxen,” as both are now going to be eating what grows from the ground, as they live among the wild animals, rather than having plenteous quantities of food delivered to them by their humble servants. 

Humble servants?  In Adam’s case, because he was the Creator God’s image-bearing steward over all creation, and because he had been given a responsible dominion over the works of his God’s hands, his humble servants would have been the trees of the garden.  Scripture seems to suggest that creation itself would have willingly yielded its bounty to its steward.  For Nebuchadnezzar, of course, his servants would have been those men and women over which he ruled.  This eating of grass, for both Nebuchadnezzar and Adam, as Adam (man) was now forced to till the ground to yield food (“eating grass” then serving as metaphor), would serve as a constant reminder that they had fallen from what had been intended for them.  Yes, if He truly holds the world in His hands, it is to be borne in mind that the Creator God had purposeful intentions for Nebuchadnezzar.   

As has been said, the respective falls came through pride and self-worship, as both Adam and the king of Babylon presumptuously reached for that which did not belong to them.  Each time they ate the grass of the field, they would be reminded of their having been driven from human society.  Adam would be forced to remember that he had willfully departed from what it meant to be fully human, which was living in a complete, trusting allegiance to his Creator, faithfully carrying out his divine purpose to be the bearer of the divine image.  He now lived in cursing and exile, fallen from glory, and now inhabiting a world cursed because of his faithlessness.  Nebuchadnezzar would be separated from fellowship with his fellow human beings, therefore separated from relationship with others that had been created in the image of the covenant God of Israel, and therefore even further separated from that God, in an awful state of exile and in full experience of the Creator God’s cursing upon himself.

After this pronouncement on the man that is so often thought of as an evil and idolatrous king, the story of Nebuchadnezzar takes what might be perceived as an unexpected turn.  The Creator God makes a promise to Nebuchadnezzar that this state of affairs in which he finds himself living a beastly existence, will go on for “seven periods of time” (4:32d).  So it was not going to be a permanent condition for Nebuchadnezzar.  As the story goes, he was informed that he was going to undergo this cursing and exile so that he would be made to “understand that the Most High is ruler over human kingdoms and gives them to whomever He wishes” (4:32e). 

There is grace and mercy for Nebuchadnezzar here.  Not only is his time of insanity going to have a defined limit, but through it, the Creator God is going to enter in so as to reveal Himself to this king.  He will do this in a way that will, for Nebuchadnezzar, give real meaning and substance and conviction to his previous declaration about that God, in which he had said, “How great are His signs!  How mighty are His wonders!  His kingdom will last forever, and His authority continues from one generation to the next” (4:3).  In these words, Nebuchadnezzar had told “all peoples, nations, and language groups that live in all the land” (4:1), that he was “delighted to tell  you about the signs and wonders that the most high God has done for me” (4:2).  Perhaps this was nothing more than lip service following that to which he had been witness in the situation with Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, and the fourth man in the fiery furnace?  Perhaps not? 

Christ's Peace (part 2 of 2)

It is possible to see further evidence that Jesus might very well have been thinking of “peace” in the context that has been suggested when He appears before Pilate.  While standing before the man who represented Rome and its might, and having been questioned as to whether or not He was “the King of the Jews” (John 18:34), Jesus replied by saying, “My kingdom is not from this world” (18:36a).  Just as the peace He was going to provide was not going to come in the way that the world provided, so He was also not going to establish His kingdom as the world does. 

Elaborating on the point made, Jesus thus continued on to say, “If My kingdom were from this world, My servants would be fighting to keep Me from being handed over to the Jewish authorities” (18:36b).  Had they fought to establish Jesus’ kingdom, then the “peace” of that kingdom would have been achieved in the same way as the Roman peace had been achieved.  This peace, as can be seen when one glances through the history of the Roman empire, was not terribly peaceful outside of the city of Rome itself, as the years at which Rome was not at war or putting down rebellions in order to extend or preserve its peace were few and far between. 

Finally, providing a significant underscore to what He has insisted concerning His kingdom and the nature of what it brings, Jesus adds, “But as it is, My kingdom is not from here” (18:36c).  With this, He reinforces the point that He has just made, saying, “As you can see, I have no servants fighting for Me.  So yes, though I am a King, as you have said, My kingdom is dramatically different from any that has come before, is going to be established and inaugurated in a radically different way than you could possibly imagine, and it will be extended through the foolish means of telling people about the fact that I was crucified and raised up from the grave.”   

After His Resurrection, when Jesus appears to His disciples, the author of the Gospel calls attention to the theme that has been created, as Jesus revisits His talk of peace (with its underlying kingdom sensibility) says, “Peace be with you.  Just as the Father has sent Me, I also send you” (20:21).  Could this not have served as a reminder of words that He had previously spoken to His disciples in regards to the peace that He was leaving with them and giving to them?  His crucifixion had just taken place at the hands of the Romans, so it would have been quite natural for His disciples to be harboring a substantial measure of hostility towards them, hardly thinking of peace nor desiring peace to be visited upon them. 

In the midst of that possible mindset, Jesus comes to remind them that His kingdom was to be established according to His means.  He came and reminded them that they were to extend the knowledge of the Creator God, and of the Creator God as demonstrated through the mission of the Christ, to the peoples of all nations, including those very Roman soldiers that had nailed Him to His cross.  Indeed, to that end, the disciples would have had the very example that Jesus had provided them, not only in remembrance of His daily course of life in which He routinely engaged with Gentiles, but in that He had asked the Father to forgive those that were involved in the terrible ordeal. 

How could they do this?  How could they extend His peace?  At this point, all indications are that they were fearful of the Jews and angry at the Romans.  Clearly, Jesus was special.  Sure, it was easy for Him to say that they needed to put aside their fear and their anger, and to go out of that place with Jesus’ mindset of “as the Father has sent Me, I also send you.”  For them, doing this was going to be a bit more difficult.  It is understandable that Jesus would know this, so “after He said this, He breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit’.” (20:22)  With that, a new creation (heavy Genesis/garden/Adam imagery at work here) springs forth, and His disciples were covenanted to carry the Gospel message of Jesus as Lord of all, representing the Creator God and His purposes of renewal and recreation, and of peaceful submission to Him and His claim to rule.  This would stand in stark contrast to the Caesar of Rome’s demand, at the point of the sword, to bow the knee in exchange for his version of peace.