Letter To Laodicea (part 113)

To talk of service and stewardship, and as we consider the setting, Peter joins “Whoever speaks, let it be with God’s words.  Whoever serves, do so with the strength that God supplies, so that in everything God will be glorified through Jesus Christ” (4:11a).  This is then punctuated with a declaration of the Lordship of Jesus, as Peter writes “To Him belong the glory and the power forever and ever” (4:11b).  While we would certainly agree that there is a burden on the one that speaks, and that service can be tiring, we must not allow ourselves to drift too far from the setting into which these words were delivered and for which they provide a controlling authority.  We dare not become too far removed from the meal table, as it is the meal table that keeps us in the proper interpretive context, instead of drifting off into anachronistic ideas about what is implied by speaking and serving. 

Modern conceptions should not be thrust on the text in a way that creates an artificial division of labor between preachers that preach and those that go about serving.  This is not an attempt to draw a dichotomy between the person that occupies the pulpit on Sunday morning and those that are then charged with visiting hospitals or distributing food to shut-ins.  Rather, we understand these words in relation to that which defines the community of Christ-followers, which is their table fellowship.  When one speaks, he or she must do so with a heart of love, as well as grace, conscious of the demand for harmony at a table that could rightly have a bit of awkwardness associated with it. 

The one that speaks does so with sympathy, compassion, and humility, always mindful of the fact that in Christ’s kingdom, the first shall be last and the last shall be first.  So it is with the one who serves.  As was said, service can be tiring, and yes, one is able to serve the kingdom of God through the strength that God supplies; but in context, the strength that God supplies for service is the strength that allows the one that would generally be considered more honorable, to humbly, willfully, and lovingly serve the one that would generally be considered to be less honorable.  It is that type of service, in which the first become last and the last become first because of an active embracing of the message of the cross inside the message of the Gospel, and not because of some type of forceful reversal in which the previously oppressed take it upon themselves to lord it over those that may or may not have had a hand in the oppression, that demonstrates true strength.  It is in this that God is glorified, as this self-abnegating service is done in deference to the kingly claim of the one to whom belongs glory and power forever and ever. 

At verse twelve, Peter begins the insertion of an interlude related to suffering on behalf of Christ.  Much of this suffering, of course, will come about because of what it is that is learned at their meal table.  The messianic, kingly declaration of the Christian meal table will practically work itself out in a lifestyle that demonstrates one’s adherence to the Lordship of Jesus and to his claims to power, rather than any over-reaching and illegitimate claims on offer from the Caesar.  However, because Christ’s kingdom model is one of self-sacrifice and service, the Christian, recognizing the legitimate extent of human authority, actually seeks to solidify the role of human authorities.  By taking up the cause of Christ’s kingdom and properly applying its principles of service and compassion through good works and public benefaction, the care of orphans and widows, the feeding of the hungry and thirsty, and the clothing of the naked, the Christian is able to inform the governing powers that they have a limit imposed upon them by God that they can reach, and upon reaching that limit are to be told that they are to go here and no further, for then they would be intruding on the responsibilities of those that claim to represent the world’s true imperial power. 

For Peter, as for Paul, the Christian becomes the model citizen.  He does not foment unrest but informs the world and its rulers about a king and a kingdom, doing so through service and sacrifice, thus putting the Gospel on display and allowing the Spirit to do the work of the transformation of hearts and minds.  Peter pleads with these denizens of a greater kingdom---one that demonstrates what it truly means to be human, saying “But let none of you suffer as a murderer or thief or criminal or as a troublemaker.  But if you suffer as a Christian,” that is, if you suffer because your practice makes it clear that you are not a participant in the worship of Caesar and his power, “do not be ashamed, but glorify God that you bear such a name” (4:15-16).           

Letter To Laodicea (part 112)

In keeping with the theme of covenant bearers being identified with the meal table and with meal practice, especially as it relates to the identifying practice of the messianic feast (as highlighted in Luke 13:29 in a well-placed elaboration on the pronouncements of prophets like Isaiah), and in-between the use of “non-Christian” (4:3) and “Christian” (4:16), we are not at all surprised to find Peter instructing this church to “Show hospitality to one another without complaining” (4:9).  We cannot escape the implications of the meal table here, as this is yet another demand to contravene the existing customs of the table and of the social constructs that would be on display. 

This showing of hospitality, without concern for social rank or honor, could be quite difficult to achieve, as the corrupted nature reacts against such notions.  This is where the transformative power of the Gospel is sorely needed, and where it and its Spirit-empowered love is most visible, achieving its greatest impact.  It is as we make such considerations, letting the implications sink deep into our hearts and minds, that we are left with little wonder as to why Jesus spent so much time at banqueting tables.  Clearly, this is something to which the culture, in His time, was attuned.  Accordingly, the impact of the table fellowship that Jesus displayed, as He modeled out the messianic banquet, was significant.  His followers seemed to have understood this well, making it a major focal point of the life lived in accordance with confession of Jesus as Messiah. 

If we are honest with ourselves, we should be able to confess that the impact of table fellowship has not been blunted or muted over the passing years as the sands of culture have shifted and swirled.  In this world we now inhabit, though customs have changed, the table has maintained its importance.  This should be the case if the kingdom of heaven, marked by the messianic feast, was inaugurated at the Resurrection and has been relentlessly advancing since that day.  Unfortunately, it is the church that, in many ways, has failed to maintain its grasp upon the practical significance of the table of fellowship, that has lost the dramatic and world-altering essence and context of the communion table, and has reduced it to an intensely private, personal, spiritual experience which has as its focus the destination of the eternal soul rather than the declaration of the rule of God and the accompanying demand upon those that call Jesus Lord to show forth the cross-shaped love of God to the world. 

When Peter tells this church to “Show hospitality to one another without complaining,” we cannot allow ourselves to imagine that this was limited to “members in good standing.”  Surely, we can imagine that those who had not yet made a confession of Jesus’ Lordship, such as we find in the stories of Jesus Himself, might find themselves at the church’s meal table.  If we limit the call for hospitality only to other Christians, then what do we do with Peter (and Paul’s) insistence that good deeds of public benefaction be performed for the wider community, along with the household of faith (Galatians 6:10). 

What does Peter attach to the table-fellowship-linked “hospitality directive”?  He adds “Just as each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of the varied grace of God” (4:10).  This sounds suspiciously like Paul’s words directed to the churches at Rome and Corinth, in which he encourages unity across the church, not allowing any stratification or honor-appropriation in accordance with spiritual gifts, but insists that the purpose of any gift is for the strengthening of the community of believers.  Those directives from Paul, we cannot forget, were provided with the context of the meal table, as the churches sought to model and to live out the messianic banquet.  Paul wrote, and no doubt Peter would agree, that the only legitimate use of spiritual gifts was for the service of others in a self-sacrificial love that did not seek honor or position.  We can surmise that the use of spiritual gifts as a way to accord honor to oneself, or in order to attain to a position of spiritual authority, would be illegitimate and entirely contrary to the spirit of the Gospel that is defined by the cross of Christ. 

While Christ was glorified in His Resurrection, let us never forget that the near-constant rejoinder to any mention of said Resurrection is that “God raised Him.”  Jesus humbled Himself, broke religious and political custom and tradition in His shared breaking of bread, touched the outcasts, taught openly to men, women, and children, washed feet, endured rejection and persecution, and willingly went to the cross in His demonstration of the appearance that would be taken on by the kingdom of God.  Though glory and authority came to Him, it was not sought, and it came to Him after He had gone to the lowest place of cursing and shame.  Truly, He showed hospitality (acted out the messianic banquet) without complaining, and even more truly, served all as a good steward of the grace of God.  Indeed, the very language here employed calls our attention to that which is expected of those that bear the divine covenant.  Peter writes of serving and stewardship.  These terms are only separated from the meal table with great difficulty, while the grace of God, as He calls a people to Himself without regard to race or class, is rightly put on display at the Christian meal table as it celebrates the Lord Jesus.           

Letter To Laodicea (part 111)

With that point sufficiently made, we continue on to the fourth chapter of this first letter of Peter.  As we maintain our position at the table of fellowship, hearing these words along with their original hearers from within the context provided by the meal culture of the ancient world and the meal culture of the church, we continue to interpret their meaning accordingly.  Therefore, we are able to make the intended application when we hear “For the time that has passed was sufficient for you to do what the non-Christians desire” (4:3a).  What are those things?  In relation to the practices and customs of the banqueting tables of the ancient world and to what we have learned about them, Peter adds, “You lived then in debauchery, evil desires, drunkenness, carousing, drinking bouts, and wanton idolatries” (4:3b), all of which would feature prominently in feasts and celebrations, as honor and exploitation of position was a primary pursuit. 

Christians, as we would expect, were to be different.  Their table was to represent far more.  It represented their Lord and God and His rule, so it must be different and look different, and it will command the attention of the watching world.  Peter writes “So they are astonished when you do not rush with them into the same flood of wickedness, and they vilify you” (4:4).  As has been noted, Christians (noting that this letter is the only New Testament letter to employ the term) were accused of heinous activity in association with their meals (e.g. cannibalism), charged with atheism and with having a destructive effect on the social cohesion of their communities and of the empire itself.  Indeed, vilification took place, and it did so in conjunction with the derisive name of “Christian” (kristianos as opposed to kaisarianos), so it is quite interesting that Peter takes up its usage in the sixteenth verse of this chapter, mentioning suffering “as a Christian,” as well as in the third verse, using it negatively with the term “non-Christians.” 

Based on what comes in between the use of non-Christian and Christian, it becomes strikingly clear that Christians were to be primarily identified by their meal practice.  This would, of course, be in keeping with the fact that those with whom God has entered into covenant, have largely been identified by meal practice of some form.  This is patently obvious when it comes to the Jews, as the major provisions of God’s covenant involved keeping His Sabbaths, which were the feasts ordained in the Mosaic law.  This also included dietary laws that would come to be used as a means to readily identify an individual as being in good covenant standing and able to participate in the rule of God.  This notion, however, stretches back to the very first covenant of Scripture. 

In Genesis, we read 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)  There, the bearer of the divine covenant, who was charged to represent God in and for the whole of the creation, has his covenant marked out by what we could term as meal practice.  Keeping ourselves in Genesis, the next covenant, which God made with Noah when He “blessed Noah and his sons and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth’” (9:1), was codified with “You may eat any moving thing that lives.  As I gave you the green plants, I now give you everything.  But you must not eat meet with its life (that is, its blood) in it” (9:3-4). 

From there we move to Abraham, and though we do not see any type of meal associated with the initial report of God’s covenant with him that occurs in chapter twelve of Genesis, we do find such things just two chapters later.  After Abraham defeats the kings that had captured his nephew, we see that “Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine” (14:18a), learning that “he was the priest of the Most High God” (14:18b).  Though it may be somewhat disconnected, and though it may be a tenuous stretch, as we reach the eighteenth chapter, we should note with interest that Abraham, the one that was blessed of God so as to exemplify divine blessing, “looked up and saw three men standing across from him.  When he saw them he ran from the entrance of the tent to meet them and bowed low to the ground.  He said, ‘My lord, if I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by and leave your servant.  Let a little water be brought so that you may all wash your feet and rest under the tree.  And let me get a bit of food so that you may refresh yourselves since you have passed by your servant’s home.  After that you may be on your way.’” (18:2-5).  It is further reported that “They ate while he was standing near them under a tree” (18:8b).  Though we do not presume that Abraham washed the feet of his visitors, we should be unable to pass by such words without a contemplation of the washing of the disciples’ feet that Jesus undertook before returning to the table where He would speak of “the one who eats My bread” (John 13:18) before passing a piece of bread to Judas.  While we naturally associate this action with Judas’ betrayal, the record of the Gospel of John only makes this clear in retrospect.  When Jesus gave Judas the bread and accompanying instruction, “none of those present at the table understood why Jesus said this to Judas.  Some thought that, because Judas had the money box, Jesus was telling him to buy whatever they needed for the feast, or to give something to the poor” (13:28-29).         

Letter To Laodicea (part 110)

Summing up what he has just communicated to the gathered congregation, Peter writes “Finally, all of you be harmonious, sympathetic, affectionate, compassionate, and humble” (3:8).  With the specter of division and social stratification (always based on honor and shame, as there was no “middle class” of which to speak, though honor would naturally gravitate towards wealth and vice versa) looming large in the background, it seems reasonable to posit that the problems being experienced in the churches were nearly universal, as these words from Peter are effectively what we hear Paul saying to the churches in Rome and Corinth.  If asking the members of the churches to function together as a unified body, independent of honor and shame constructs, always considering the body of the community and its overall health as the visual representation of God’s ruling kingdom, cannot be, based on what we have learned to this point, summarized in our thoughts as “be harmonious, sympathetic, affectionate, compassionate, and humble,” then we simply lack the power of deductive reasoning. 

Truly, this language echoes Paul’s call “not to think more highly of yourself than you ought to think, but to think with sober discernment, as God has distributed to each of you a measure of faith” (Romans 12:3), as he goes on to use metaphorical terms in relation to the functioning of the body of Christ, grounded in the operation of self-sacrificial love.  The metaphorical treatment in Romans, as we have seen, possesses great similarity to that which is to be found in the first Corinthian letter.  Harmony, sympathy, affection, compassion, and humility are the clarion calls of the thirteen chapter of first Corinthians, and contrary to any and all thinking about the subject, the concept of love therein expressed is (colored by the cross) what is demanded by one’s confession of Jesus as Lord, especially given the competition for honor and shame that provides the social context in which the words are first heard. 

Across the letters, what we see is that preference and humility are the demands of the example of Christ, and to what might strike most of us as an unusually high degree, the call for humility and consideration of others in the light of the cross is consistently and almost exclusively framed by references to the meal table.  This is more obvious in the letters to Rome and Corinth, and especially the latter, as the dissertation of chapters twelve through fourteen, which outline the way that the church is to behave (not in cultivation of a private spirituality or a quest for personal holiness but as the witness of a vibrant, present, and demanding kingdom), has for its foundation Paul’s treatment of the Lord’s Supper (that which, for all practical purposes, came to be the church’s representation of the messianic banquet, and therefore, it’s declaration that Jesus is Lord and ruler of all creation).

The next verse in this letter, after extolling Christian love, evokes the Jesus tradition in play in that day, giving a pre-Gospel composition voice to that which will be a cornerstone of Jesus’ truly revolutionary notions of how it is that the God’s rule will come to earth.  When Peter insists that this church “not return evil for evil or insult for insult, but instead bless others because you were called to inherit a blessing” (3:9), he speaks to a group of people that were very much in line to experience evil and insults, as they refused to participate in the emperor cult or the public religion.  Naturally, this calls to mind that which would come to be codified in the Gospels, and which we treated briefly in its context as to its meaning, which would be “Do not resist the evildoer.  But whoever strike you on the right cheek, turn the other to him as well” (Matthew 5:39). 

Some would look at as the Gospels simply putting into Jesus’ mouth that which the early church leaders desired to hear Jesus saying, so as to provide back up to their positions and a legitimization of their authority.  However, because what Peter is insisting upon flies in the face of basic social code and of predominant Jewish sensibilities in an era of nearly constant revolutionary activity, it most certainly must go back to the lips of one that put such activity on display in willingly going to the cross, with the power of the Resurrection later serving to back up the words that would serve to inspire actions (by the Spirit, as through such responses it is being declared that Jesus is Lord---that God rules) that would transform the world. 

Beyond that, Peter insists that the focus be on blessing others---good deeds/public benefaction again---because of the blessing that was being inherited.  Does Peter here speak of heaven?  In the sense that it was the role of the people of God, in participation with God by His Spirit (which is the means by which a person is able to confess that Jesus is Lord) to bring heaven to earth (God’s will being done on earth as in heaven), yes, that’s exactly what it means.  However, it goes further than that, in that any mention of blessing automatically reverts to the concept of the Abrahamic covenant, and its promise to bless Abraham for the purpose of exemplifying divine blessing, as part of God’s plan to set the world to rights (to restore it from its fallen condition).  Consequently then, calling attention to the Abrahamic covenant calls to mind the worldwide body of Abraham’s children coming together for the great eschatological (end times=the time of God’s rule, which began with Jesus’ Resurrection) feast that would mark God’s rule.  So, once again, we have landed on the power and importance of the Christian meal table, as it becomes increasingly clear that it is something of a social and cultural phenomenon that cannot be ignored in our interpretation of Scripture, whether that interpretation is spoken, written, or lived.             

Letter To Laodicea (part 109)

Returning to our Petrine analysis, we recover our position in the third chapter, re-grasping the handle of mutual self-sacrificial love that undergirds the call for wives to be subject to their husbands.  From there, Peter moves to a directive to “Let your beauty not be external---the braiding of hair and wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes---but the inner person of the heart, the lasting beauty of a gentle and tranquil spirit, which is precious in God’s sight” (3:3-4).  We hear these words, of course, in the context of table fellowship, having completed our complementary trek to the books of the Kings in hopes of solidifying our position of the power and prominence of the meal table in Jewish mindset and culture, as informed by their determinative and shared history.  One might also consider the fact that, in the process of that solidification, reference was made to a horrific case of corruption and abusive injustice that was conceived of and executed by a woman named Jezebel.  Ironically, we approach this section of Peter, having recently considered the case of a woman that, prior to meeting her demise, “put on some eye-liner” and “fixed up her hair” (2 Kings 9:30), while demonstrating a spirit that, as reported, was far from gentle, tranquil, or precious in God’s sight.  Though she is not personally referenced again, she becomes something of a counter-example in the history of Israel and to the church (Revelation 2:20), primarily because she does not serve the cause of justice and compassion, but rather, is shown to readily engage oppositely.  Very little is made of her relationship to her husband, whilst much is made of her opposition to the God that commands His people to be a light to all nations and to reflect His glory to the world. 

So is Peter worried about a “Jezebel spirit” invading the church.  No, and that is not the point that is to be drawn by the ironic juxtaposition.  What he is concerned about is the other-preferring love that is to be on display at the church’s meal table, which will then, because of the Gospel’s transformational power combined with the power of the meal table, be translated into other-preferring actions in and for the community (the world) in which the Christians find themselves.  How can we make this conclusion?  We can make it precisely because of what we read.  Here, Peter calls for the wealthier women in the church community---those that can avail themselves of the costly braiding of hair (in which jewels, precious metals, and other ornamentations would be woven into the hair), gold jewelry, and fine clothes---to consider those in their church community that are far less fortunate than they when it comes to such things.  This is not a blanket directive, nor should it be considered a ban or a condemnation of these types of things.  Rather, it is an inducement from Peter to this church to act in love towards one another.  In this case, Peter is asking the wealthier women of the church---the women who would, though they had no real honor of their own, share in the honor of their husband, dressing and presenting themselves accordingly---to leave such things aside when they gather with their fellow believers and participate at meals together.  By removing the trappings of honor and dignity that garner the respect and admiration of the world, which can serve, albeit perhaps unintentionally, to keep true and undivided fellowship from taking place, the “inner person of the heart” comes to the fore, as love and respect for one’s fellow Christian is demonstrated. 

It is then, when that which is considered precious by the world is put aside, what is “precious in God’s sight,” which is “the lasting beauty of a gentle and tranquil spirit,” and which can be seen in the willful sacrifice of honor and a willful, equalizing identification with those that do not posses honor or its trappings, that the Gospel is lived out before an amazed and confused world.  What will result from this?  One can imagine that, having gone without these things of external beauty in the course of table fellowship, and undoubtedly experiencing the power of the Gospel and the presence of the Spirit because of this act of self-sacrifice, that a conclusion may be reached that such things of external beauty are not entirely necessary.  This could very well lead to an unforced and un-coerced, sacrificial liquidation of assets once held so dear (in opposition to the acquisitive nature that we see in the stories of Ahab and even David), so that the community might be benefited, the hungry fed, the thirsty given drink (not unlike the story of Elisha and the king of Syria), and the naked clothed, while the widow and orphan receive the care that God demands from His people.  Indeed, it is with such thoughts in mind that we go on to hear Peter remind this church of their responsibility to engage in public benefaction as the kingdom of God, as he writes in reference to Abraham’s wife Sarah and the example she provided (in contrast to that of Jezebel), that “You become her children when you do what is good (providing food, drink, clothing, etc…) and have no fear in doing so” (3:6b). 

That last line is a strange addition.  Why would they have to fear doing good?  Well, those very things of which Peter speaks---the jewelry and fine clothes---represented a wife’s economic security in the event of her husband’s death or his decree of divorce.  Peter’s insistence that all engage in doing good works, and his insistence on a loving and preferring attitude that could cause a woman to forego that which may be her only means of subsistence apart from her husband in the event of death or divorce, is a radical demand upon the follower of the Christ.  It can be a cause for fear, while being an exercise in faith.  In accordance with this line of thinking then, Peter writes “Husbands, in the same way, treat your wives with consideration as the weaker partners” (3:7a), recognizing the potential hardship that they are creating for themselves as they do that which will allow them to also engage in good works.  This use of weaker, quite naturally, is not to be understood as weak in the sense that raises the ire of feminists in the western world, but rather, in the sense that, in that day (and in our own day in many unfortunate cases and places) women were far more vulnerable and more likely to be subjected to oppression.  Peter takes this one step further, and in the midst of a culture that prized honor and shame, husbands are instructed to do that which will cause the last to be first and the first to be last, writing “show them honor as fellows heirs of the grace of life” (3:7b).  All of this would play out at the meal table.          

Letter To Laodicea (part 108)

Clearly then, when we get past a merely superficial reading of the story of Ahab, Jezebel, Naboth, and the vineyard, we are able to conclude that the story is less about Jezebel and Ahab, and more about the abuse of power, corruption, and injustice that so often accompanies unnecessary acquisitiveness.  In this story, these things are unmistakably linked to and result from Ahab’s idolatry and to his failures in regards to the covenant.  While it also gives us a unique glimpse into the meal culture that aids in informing our understanding of the subject, it serves to remind us that these abuses and injustices were not limited to Ahab and Jezebel, by any means.  We also see them in play, rather often, in the life of men such as King David. 

In one story (though there are several from which to choose), David killed a man to take his wife.  Jezebel, on the other hand, killed a man to take his land.  Such is the nature of power.  So much more then, do we comprehend the nature of the cross and what it says about power.  Interestingly enough, when Ahab was confronted by Elijah in regards to the action that had been taken by his wife, “he tore his clothes, put on sackcloth, and fasted.  He slept in sackcloth, and walked around dejected.  The Lord said to Elijah the Tishbite, ‘Have you noticed how Ahab shows remorse before Me?  Because he shows remorse, I will not bring disaster on his dynasty during his lifetime, but during the reign of his son.’” (21:27b-29).  This is not dissimilar to the response that David gave to Nathan, when confronted with his own actions.  So too do we see a similar response from the Lord.  The Lord spoke about bringing disaster to the reign of Ahab’s son, and death came to the son that was born to David and Bathsheba.

For the second example at which we will take a look during this interlude, we venture to the sixth chapter of the second book of the Kings.  There, we find that “the king of Syria was at war with Israel” (6:8a).  We learn that the King of Syria has become upset at the prophet Elisha, and the reason given is that “The prophet Elisha who lives in Israel keeps telling the king of Israel the things you say in your bedroom” (6:12b).  This was an obvious source of frustration for the king of Syria, as it continually thwarted him in his battle plans against Israel.  For this reason, the king of Syria sought to capture Elisha, and to accomplish this, sent “a good-sized army” (6:14) to surround the city in which Elisha was located.  Elisha asks the Lord to strike the army with blindness.  The Lord intervenes accordingly, producing a rather humorous episode in which Elisha goes to the army and tells them “This is not the right road or city.  Follow me, and I will lead you to the man you’re looking for” (6:19b). 

Elisha then leads this detachment of the Syrian army into Samaria, which was part of the territory of the king of Israel.  The king of Israel, quite naturally, is pleased with this turn of events, asking Elisha “Should I strike them down, my master?”  (6:21b).  With what we can see as a glimpse of what God ultimately expected of His covenant people, Elisha replies by saying “Do not strike them down!  You did not capture them with your sword or bow, so what gives you the right to strike them down?” (6:22a).  He continues on, and we find ourselves contemplating our Lord, His cross, and the power of His meal table as we read “Give them some food and water, so they can eat and drink and then go back to their master” (6:22b).  Fascinating, is it not?  While we remember that the king of Israel was the representative of the people of Israel, and as we contemplate the overall meal culture and the power of participation in a meal, we go on to see how he responded, reading “So he threw a big banquet for them and they ate and drank.  Then he sent them back to their master” (6:23a).  What was the long-ranging impact of this action?  What resulted from this feeding?  “After that no Syrian raiding parties again invaded the land of Israel” (6:23b).     

If we are willing to look for it, we find such examples throughout the Scriptures.  If we are willing to take the examples seriously, contextualize them with that which is spoken and acted out by the Messiah (the physical embodiment of Israel’s God), and understand how the early church picked up on what they were learning about Jesus through the oral traditions while filtering the message of God and the requirements of the covenant people through the message of the cross (Paul’s quotation of Proverbs 25:21: “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him a drink” while informing the church at Rome as to the shape that the acted-out love of God will take), then we will have a wide and clear lens through which to view the situation at Laodicea.  We will then in a position, properly informed about the relative circumstances of Laodicea, to make the application of the absolute truths there presented.      

Letter To Laodicea (part 107)

With the issue of good deeds sending us again to the meal table, we now pause (with a humble acknowledgment of a considerable amount of pauses and redirection in the course of this study), having returned to the Hebrew Scriptures (specifically Leviticus) to gain some perspective on what appearances may have been taken on by social benefaction, and embark upon another return that will allow us to situate the importance of the meal table squarely within Jewish culture, heritage, and historical memory, all of which would have played a role in the way that the earliest Christians, having their understanding informed by Jewish history and messianic understandings, would have interpreted the words and actions of Jesus that were centered upon meal culture.  Lest it be thought that we are only considering the predominating Greco-Roman sensibilities when examining social customs in connection with the meal table, we will look at two interesting examples from the history of Israel, both of which are derived from the books of the Kings. 

In the twenty-first chapter of the first book of the Kings, we encounter the story of Ahab and Naboth.  A quick summary of the story has Ahab, the king of Israel, desirous of obtaining a vineyard that belongs to a man by the name of Naboth.  Ahab offers to purchase the vineyard or to trade a more valuable piece of land to Naboth in exchange for his vineyard that was said to adjoin the palace grounds.  Naboth politely declines the offer, saying “The Lord forbid that I should sell you my ancestral inheritance” (1 Kings 21:3b).  As Ahab had his heart set on acquiring the vineyard, this rejection made him both “bitter and angry” (21:4).  His wife, Jezebel, noticed her husband’s demeanor, and inquired as to its source.  Ahab informed Jezebel about the situation, spurring Jezebel to take matters into her own hands.  This is where the intrigue for us begins, as we will be able to see why this particular story is included in this ongoing attempt to discern the nature of Jesus’ communication to the church at Laodicea. 

Jezebel “wrote out orders, signed Ahab’s name to them, and sealed them with his seal.  She then sent the orders to the leaders and to the nobles who lived in Naboth’s city.  This is what she wrote: ‘Observe a time of fasting and seat Naboth in front of the people.  Also seat two villains opposite him and have them testify, “You cursed God and the king.”  Then take him out and stone him to death.’” (21:8-10)  It should not be difficult to see what is at work here, what is left out, and what is implied.  This is a shrewd plan, and it is rooted in a knowledge of public sensibilities that are heavily dependent on meal customs. 

A time of fasting is declared.  Naturally, a time of fasting would be concluded by a time of feasting.  Now, it is necessary to parse some of what we know or have seen to this point.  Jezebel has given an order related to Naboth’s city.  Though Naboth owns a vineyard adjacent to the king’s abode, this does not mean that he lived on this piece of land, but that he either worked the land himself or hired laborers to work it for him.  Owing to this, we can presume that Naboth is probably a relatively wealthy individual, possessive of some measure of honor within the community, so it does not come as a surprise, considering the location of his vineyard, that he is being chosen out for a special honor by the king, to host a community feast and therefore occupy what we know as the protoklisian at the feast that followed the fast.  There is also this mention of seating two “villains” opposite Naboth at this feast.  Naturally, these men will not be known to the community as villains, but rather, since this story is a decided polemic against Jezebel that seeks to at least partially exculpate Ahab from blame in this manner, the men are going to play the villain in the story, right along with Jezebel. 

So what happens?  As directed, “The men of the city, the leaders and the nobles who lived there, followed the written orders Jezebel had sent them” (21:11), believing that they had come from the king.  With this belief in our minds as we read the story, we 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 we tend to think of villains).  Along with that, the men who carried out these orders were simply acting in accordance with the demands of justice.  As far as they knew, Naboth had actually done that of which he was accused, and accordingly, was deserving of the judgment that they knew would take place.  Jezebel took advantage of this.  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 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.  Predictably, “they dragged him outside the city and stoned him to death” (21:13c).  This horrible achievement was predicated on honor and the meal table.  The two “villains” that were set opposite Naboth would be seated to his right and left, the positions of greatest honor at a meal.  The persons seated immediately to the right and to the left of the chief seat were presumed to be possessive of even greater honor that the one seated in the host position.  Accordingly, 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.