THE LESSONS OF A FEAST

'And it came to pass, as He went into the house of one

of the chief Pharisees to eat bread on the Sabbath day,

that they watched Him. 2. And, behold, there was a

certain man before Him which had the dropsy. 3. And

Jesus answering spake unto the lawyers and Pharisees,

saying, Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day? 4. And

they held their peace. And He took him, and healed him,

and let him go; 5. And answered them, saying, Which of

you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and

will not straightway pull him out on the Sabbath day?

6. And they could not answer Him again to these things.

7. And He put forth a parable to those which were

bidden, when He marked how they chose out the chief

rooms; saying unto them, 8. When thou art bidden of any

man to a wedding, sit not down in the highest room,

lest a more honourable man than thou be bidden of him;

9. And he that bade thee and him come and say to thee,

Give this man place; and thou begin with shame to take

the lowest room. 10. But when thou art bidden, go and

sit down in the lowest room; that when he that bade

thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up

higher: then shalt thou have worship in the presence

of them that sit at meat with thee. 11. For whosoever

exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth

himself shall be exalted. 12. Then said He also to him

that bade Him, When thou makest a dinner or a supper,

call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy

kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours; lest they also bid

thee again, and a recompense be made thee. 13. But when

thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the

lame, the blind: 14. And thou shalt be blessed; for

they cannot recompense thee: for thou shalt be

recompensed at the resurrection of the just.'

--LUKE xiv. 1-14.

Jesus never refused an invitation, whether the inviter were a

Pharisee or a publican, a friend or a foe. He never mistook the

disposition of His host. He accepted 'greetings where no kindness

is,' and on this occasion there was none. The entertainer was a spy,

and the feast was a trap. What a contrast between the malicious

watchers at the table, ready to note and to interpret in the worst

sense every action of His, and Him loving and wishing to bless even

them! The chill atmosphere of suspicion did not freeze the flow of

His gentle beneficence and wise teaching. His meek goodness remained

itself in the face of hostile observers. The miracle and the two

parables are aimed straight at their errors.

I. How came the dropsical man there? Possibly he had simply strayed

in to look on at the feast, as the freedom of manners then would

permit him to do. The absence of any hint that he came hoping for a

cure, and of any trace of faith on his part, or of speech to him on

Christ's, joined with his immediate dismissal after his cure, rather

favours the supposition that he had been put as the bait of the

trap, on the calculation that the sight of him would move Jesus to

heal him. The setters of the snare were 'watching' whether it would

work, and Jesus 'answered' their thoughts, which were, doubtless,

visible in their eyes. His answer has three stages--a question which

is an assertion, the cure, and another affirming question. All three

are met with sulky silence, which speaks more than words would have

done. The first question takes the 'lawyers' on their own ground,

and in effect asserts that to heal did not break the Sabbath. Jesus

challenges denial of the lawfulness of it, and the silence of the

Pharisees confesses that they dare not deny. 'The bare fact of

healing is not prohibited,' they might have said, 'but the acts

necessary for healing are.' But no acts were necessary for this

Healer's power to operate. The outgoing of His will had power. Their

finespun distinctions of deeds lawful and unlawful were spiders'

webs, and His act of mercy flew high above the webs, like some fair

winged creature glancing in the sunshine, while the spider sits in

his crevice balked. The broad principle involved in Jesus' first

question is that no Sabbath law, no so-called religious restriction,

can ever forbid helping the miserable. The repose of the Sabbath is

deepened, not disturbed, by activity for man's good.

The cure is told without detail, probably because there were no

details to tell. There is no sign of request or of faith on the

sufferer's part; there seems to have been no outward act on Christ's

beyond 'taking' him, which appears simply to mean that He called him

nearer, and then, by a simple exercise of His will, healed him.

There is no trace of thanks or of wonder in the heart of the

sufferer, who probably never had anything more to do with his

benefactor. Silently he comes on the stage, silently he gets his

blessing, silently he disappears. A strange, sad instance of how

possible it is to have a momentary connection with Jesus, and even

to receive gifts from His hand, and yet to have no real, permanent

relation to Him!

The second question turns from the legal to a broader consideration.

The spontaneous workings of the heart are not to be dammed back by

ceremonial laws. Need calls for immediate succour. You do not wait

for the Sabbath's sun to set when your ox or your ass is in a pit.

(The reading 'son' instead of 'ox,' as in the Revised Version

margin, is incongruous.) Jesus is appealing to the instinctive wish

to give immediate help even to a beast in trouble, and implies that

much more should the same instinct be allowed immediate play when

its object is a man. The listeners were self-condemned, and their

obstinate silence proves that the arrow had struck deep.

II. The cure seems to have taken place before the guests seated

themselves. Then came a scramble for the most honourable places, on

which He looked with perhaps a sad smile. Again the silence of the

guests is noticeable, as well as the calm assumption of authority

by Jesus, even among such hostile company. Where He comes a guest,

He becomes teacher, and by divine right He rebukes. The lesson is

given, says Luke, as 'a parable,' by which we are to understand that

our Lord is not here giving, as might appear if His words are

superficially interpreted, a mere lesson of proper behaviour at a

feast, but is taking that behaviour as an illustration of a far

deeper thing. Possibly some too ambitious guest had contrived to

seat himself in the place of honour, and had had to turn out, and,

with an embarrassed mien, had to go down to the very lowest place,

as all the intermediate ones were full. His eagerness to be at the

top had ended in his being at the bottom. That is a 'parable,' says

Jesus, an illustration in the region of daily life, of large truths

in morals and religion. It is a poor motive for outward humility and

self-abasement that it may end in higher honour. And if Jesus was

here only giving directions for conduct in regard to men, He was

inculcating a doubtful kind of morality. The devil's

darling sin

Is the pride that apes humility.'

Jesus was not recommending that, but what is crafty ambition,

veiling itself in lowliness for its own purposes, when exercised in

outward life, becomes a noble, pure, and altogether worthy, thing in

the spiritual sphere. For to desire to be exalted in the kingdom is

wholly right, and to humble one's self with a direct view to that

exaltation is to tread the path which He has hallowed by His own

footsteps. The true aim for ambition is the honour that cometh from

God only, and the true path to it is through the valley; for 'God

resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble.'

III. Unbroken silence still prevailed among the guests, but again

Jesus speaks as teacher, and now to the host. A guest does not

usually make remarks on the composition of the company, Jesus could

make no 'recompense' to His entertainer, but to give him this

counsel. Again, He inculcated a wide general lesson under the guise

of a particular exhortation appropriate to the occasion. Probably

the bulk of the guests were well-to-do people of the host's own

social rank, and, as probably, there were onlookers of a lower

degree, like the dropsical man. The prohibition is not directed

against the natural custom of inviting one's associates and equals,

but against inviting them only, and against doing so with a sharp

eye to the advantages to be derived from it. That weary round of

giving a self-regarding hospitality, and then getting a return

dinner or evening entertainment from each guest, which makes up so

much of the social life among us, is a pitiful affair, hollow and

selfish. What would Jesus say--what does Jesus say--about it all?

The sacred name of hospitality is profaned, and the very springs of

it dried up by much of our social customs, and the most literal

application of our Lord's teaching here is sorely needed.

But the words are meant as a 'parable,' and are to be widened out to

include all sorts of kindnesses and helps given in the sacred name

of charity to those whose only claim is their need. 'They cannot

recompense thee'--so much the better, for, if an eye to their doing

so could have influenced thee, thy beneficence would have lost its

grace and savour, and would have been simple selfishness, and, as

such, incapable of future reward. It is only love that is lavished

on those who can make no return which is so free from the taint of

secret regard to self that it is fit to be recognised as love in the

revealing light of that great day, and therefore is fit to be

'recompensed in the resurrection of the just.'

Expositions of Holy Scripture: St. Luke · 第 191 / 274 题