The Uncultured Saints

It’s a story about redemption; about redemption and sacrifice, forgiveness and mercy. A son wishing his father was dead and his brother was no longer a brother. That same son denouncing his sonship in Israel, casting his lot in with the Gentiles and the pig farmers. A father who loves his son so much that he gives an inheritance that shouldn’t be given; and he doesn’t think twice. An older brother concerned with appearances, concerned with “doing it the right way,” concerned with nothing except the Law. And it leaves us with an open question. The prodigal knows the Gospel through his father; he eats the fatten calf and wears the signet ring. Will the older brother now join them in the feast…

A parable about stewardship, if stewardship was about taking other peoples money and giving it away. We might have the most difficult time with this parable because the dishonest manager is praised for his shrewdness, he is praised for doing that which is not right. Perhaps that is why this parable is one of the best examples to show that parables are not about morals and ethics or about becoming a better person, they are about Jesus...

Jesus isn’t in this parable, not explicitly. We do have Abraham alluding to the resurrection and the Law and the prophets speaking about the Messiah. So yeah, He is there. But this is also the only parable that has a name: Lazarus. Might that be a clue? Might that be where we should begin? Yes, there is that whole thing about a great divide that can’t be crossed. And that is true. But the name is important. Names are always important. So what is in a name? Let’s find out…

Pray enough and you will force God’s hand. Isn’t that what this parable seems to be about? How else could we take it? But then we have to rectify an unrighteous judge standing as the Jesus figure, and that is just weird. But is it any weirder than Jesus hiding away a treasure and swindling the owner of the field out of it? Or Jesus being a dishonest manager that gives away his master’s money and is commended for it? Maybe there is something Gospelly about this parable after all. Maybe it isn’t so much about the persistent widow earning for herself justice as it is the widow receiving a verdict in her favor completely outside of herself. Maybe a judgment in her favor has nothing to do with her deserving it at all…

Here is perhaps the most straightforward parable of them all. We know who Jesus is: He is the son that is murdered. We get that. And perhaps we should just leave it at that, because there is still the mystery of the father sending his son, knowing full well that he will end up dead. What sort of father is this? What sort of father would sacrifice his son like that? …I think we know the answer to that…

Each of the ten virgins wants to get into the wedding feast. They are all there, all prepared, at least prepared for the rational. Some are prepared for the irrational and have lugged along extra oil for their lamps. Knowing this, we start scouring the parable to figure out the specifics. What is the oil? What is the lamp? But none of that matters, because none of that gets the virgins into the wedding feast. They all had an invitation. They all had a lamp and they all had enough oil at the beginning. But none of those things were their ticket into the feast. So their ticket inside has to be something else, has to be someone else…

Here is the second to last parable Jesus ever teaches His disciples. It is the middle of Holy Week. The Triumphal Entry has taken place and in a few short days Jesus will be strung up on a cross. And so at this crucial time Jesus makes certain to gather His disciples aside in order to teach them about…stewardship…No, that can’t be right…Stewardship is important, but it isn’t a mystery of the kingdom of heaven. So this has to be about something else. It has to be about the Gospel and the forgiveness of sins. It has to be about the cross. But how…

Make sure that you are a sheep. Or at least make sure that you are not a goat. Judgment Day is coming and you must be certain to find yourself in the right flock. But if we start looking at our works to assure us of our place amongst the sheep we will find ourselves amongst the goats asking, “But when didn’t we…?” Demand that God looks at your works and uses them as a checklist for your entrance into life everlasting and you will be surely disappointed. Better to bleat along with the sheep, “Lord, when did we…” Those are the words of sheep that know nothing of the Law for salvation and know only of the Gospel.

What’s the big deal about saying my nature is sinful or my nature is corrupted by original sin? It seems like a puny detail to focus on…but it’s really not. If we get this wrong, it messes up all our theology. Sin isn’t just the actions we do, it’s hereditary, a fatal disease we ALL inherit. And yet, sin is not who we are, it’s a condition we have. Original sin means that something has changed from the way we’re supposed to be, the way that God created all of humanity to be. This doesn’t mean that we have an excuse to sin just because it comes naturally to us. It means that we need a Savior.

In spite of all the smiles and material successes, at the end of the day, most of us know we’re not doing or being our best selves. We can always do better. There is a huge chasm between who we are and who we want to be. The entire self-help industry has been built up to try and bridge that divide. When Christians talk about sin, the world hears it as a religion trying to prevent people from fully and freely living out their lives the best they can. But the reality of the situation is that sin is exactly WHY we fail, and why we never really get to where we want to be.