On a Windy Day

The Golan Heights is a hilly elevated area measuring 718 square miles, itself dominated by the 9,000 foot tall Mount Hermon – this according to a Wikipedia article. The Golan overlooks the Jordan Rift Valley in which is found the Sea of Galilee. This body of water is the lowest freshwater lake on Earth measuring between 686 and 705 feet below sea level. Anyone living in such a geographical region would be accustomed to winds rushing down from the higher elevations.

It is not a strange thing to read about such a windstorm in Luke 8:22-25. This is the place where Jesus rebuked the wind and wave to amaze his fearful disciples. This is where he asked the convicting question, “Where is your faith?” Here, I will not cover the religious import of the power of Christ over the elements. That may be found in a worthy church sermon.

Here, I wish to focus on details overshadowed by topics for sermons. In this story of the power of the Son of God, there are lesser facts, or details, that paint a clear picture of the physical event. The ship was certainly solid and built well enough to take them across the lake. The lake was large – somewhere in the ballpark of a 33-mile circumference. As to how long the trip from one side to the other might have taken, I have no clue as much would depend on the type of ship and prevalent weather conditions.

Let us look at the wording of the tale. First, is the ambiguity of the timeline. Those who knew the details surrounding Jesus should have been able to place the event more precisely than, “on a certain day”. Then there was the ship – named a ship as opposed to a boat – obviously large enough to carry all of them: at least twelve disciples and one master, but there could have been others, a crew for example. It was not claimed to be a fishing vessel, so perhaps it was a ship made for the transport of people.

Then, there was the “storm of wind” that was described as coming 'down.' It is easy to race past such a small detail, but for me, such wording supports the authenticity of the story, for it shows an accustomed knowledge of the events typical of that geographical setting. Speaking of authenticity, let us look next at the reaction of the disciples to the storm of wind. The story text informs us simply that “they were filled with water.” It tells us nothing of waves or choppy water or the rocking of the ship in a storm.

We are informed, in verse 24, that along with the wind, Jesus also rebuked the “raging of the water.” But, how might the water rage? I can imagine straight line winds driving both water and ship in a single direction. Was the ship facing into the wind? Was the wind pushing against the side of the ship? In straight line circumstances the ship might have one side high and one side at the water line – and of course, the wind would blow sea spray into the ship.

Not much could be done in a sudden storm. Perhaps there was not so much as a bucket with which to bail. They could only watch as the ship filled with water and assume they were about to capsize and sink. Another detail we must consider here is the sleeping Jesus. What does the fact that he had to be awakened suggest? Was he really tired? The transference of virtue can really take the wind out of one's sails. Was he a heavy sleeper? Did he not know he was getting soaked? Within this scenario is the possibility that the ship might have sported an enclosed area, or cabin, in which a passenger might find a bed to sleep in – further indicating a lengthy voyage. Or, did he simply sleep the sleep of faith?

Understandably, the disciples feared for their lives. When they awoke their master, it was not with a request to help bail water from the ship – they were beyond that. Against the roar of wind and wave they simply shouted, “we perish.” Perhaps crew members had already been swept overboard.

I believe that whoever remembered the story, while lacking the specific memory of time and date with which to place it properly, still recounted a true tale, a physical event. Relatively speaking, the event occurred early in the ministry of Christ, and I say that for the reason of raw reaction. Here were disciples who had traveled with Jesus on a daily basis. They witnessed the healings. They witnessed the dead raised. Yet, as they were witness to another of his many miracles, namely the calming of the sea, in their awe, they questioned what kind of man it was they followed.

It seems almost as if they were not quite convinced that Jesus was the Son of God, did not fully believe in him. It was a real and timely point when Jesus asked them, “Where is your faith?” So, what about the rest of us? Jesus asks us the same question. Are you convinced? Do you believe? Where is your faith?

Candlesticks and Spiritual Dynamics

Candlesticks and secrets. This is a small side-explanation and summation immediately following the sower parable. What we have here is an explanation of an explanation. The sower parable, itself, was an explanation of a spiritual dynamic, but it was long and complex. Jesus felt the need of an addendum.

Luke 8:16-18, “No man, when he has lit a candle, covers it with a vessel, or puts it under a bed; but sets it on a candlestick, that they which enter in may see the light.

For nothing is secret, that shall not be made manifest; neither any thing hid, that shall not be known and come abroad.

Take heed therefore how you hear: for whosoever has, to him shall be given; and whosoever has not, from him shall be taken even that which he seems to have.”

We often see that Jesus used the commonplace – simple ordinary everyday things – to further illuminate a truth. In this instance, he turns to candlesticks. The dynamic of the sower parable involved taking ownership of one's spiritual qualities and working them to produce more of the same. The dynamic was hidden inside a parable as a secret, and yet, that secret was explained to the disciples.

The addendum was meant to show the disciples that secrets are a part of the overall answer. Lighting a candle is not merely a symbol of light as opposed to darkness, but more to the point, it represents the navigation of that darkness. Darkness, therefore, might be deemed representative of the secrets hidden within while the addition of light may be viewed as a first step toward successful navigation.

One lights a candle to expose the secrets of the dark. It is common to most of us; it is something done daily by millions of people. When I go into a room, I turn on the lights. I want to know where the leg of the couch is so I do not stump my toe. I wish to avoid all stumbling and all tripping over things. I want to see where each step is supposed to go. I may not always remember which side of the room my dresser is on. I may not have a clear mental concept of how high up on the door the lock is found. I could feel around in the dark, or I could better train my memory, but for me and for millions of others, it is simply more efficient to turn on the lights.

We are digging through a drawer in a chest of drawers. It is a drawer of possibilities. Let's see – where is that muscle I wish to add? In the dark, there are secrets; in the light, there are realizations. A seeker's first step of discovery is to turn on the light. How does this apply itself to the dynamic of the sower parable? I want biceps and I am in the gym looking at the exercise equipment. Looking at the equipment is of no use to me, neither is the knowledge of what they are for. Nothing at all will happen until I take that first step.

On a spiritual level, my first step is the light of life. By that alone may I discover, and use, those secrets which otherwise would have only tripped me up. There is something hidden inside of me; I believe it is there, but I cannot see it. I say this about the 'me' I wish to be. What is my first step in becoming that person? Where do I start? I can make a start – but what must I do? Once I see what I want to become and once I see what I have to work with, what can I expect for all my faith and labor? The light of life answers all of these questions.

My personal harvest can only be a better me – that is, more of who and what I already was. When I went digging through my drawer in search of a muscle to exercise, it was not a muscle that I found, rather it was a muscle illuminated. The muscle by itself would have been nothing but a secret shrouded in darkness – unfound and unused. What I found and what I exercised was only possible in the light of life. As it turns out, that light of life is the muscle – and it is the exercise – and it is the 'me' I have wanted all along.

So we fire up our personal candle with the light of life. We do not hide the light, we embrace it as the first step in a battle to wrestle secrets from the dark. The whole point of the light is that we want to see. We want a clear line of sight and a complete vision. We want to find ourselves and know the illumination of who we really are. The more we exercise that illumination the more we become that illumination. The hidden parts of us are rescued from the darkness to be added into our whole illuminated being.

The seed that was planted in our fertile soil was nothing less than the light of life. The muscle that we now exercise is our 'Jesus muscle'. The seeker who seeks truth is actually seeking to become truth. It bears repeating, “Whosoever has, to him shall be given; and whosoever has not, from him shall be taken even that which he seems to have.” What, then, as seekers, is our first step?

Jesus tells us this, “Take heed therefore how you hear.”

That is not 'what' you hear, or 'why' you hear, nor again is it 'when' or 'who' or 'where'. It is only the 'how' that will prove true. Lighting that candle is the how. That is our first step and starting place. It is the commencement of the exercise of illumination. It is the seeker becoming Jesus, and while that may seem a strange and off-the-wall comment to the conservative Christian, Jesus himself declared that truth when he said in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”

Therefore, every soul faces one of only two possible directions in life. What will you choose? Will you choose the exercise of life and light to become life and light, or will you choose to waste away through attrition until you are erased by the darkness of death? My choice is the way, the truth, and the life.

Collateral Points

Luke 8 is one of the places where we find the sower parable, but it is also found in Matthew. I have already covered this parable – see the study entitled 'As a man thinks' – so here in Luke, I will focus on collateral points.

What do I mean by collateral points? We all too often concern ourselves with only the core topic of a study. We look through our personal telescopes and count off the planets but disregard the moons. We hurry to reach the end of the labor, willing to relegate all minor points to the category of trivia. These are the collateral points, the things we hurry past without giving due credit. If we were to look through our personal telescope at the earth, an appraisal of its moon would render truths about the tides and how they help drive the weather of an entire world.

Let us look at the little things. Let us seek meaning and strive for definition. Luke 8 begins with Jesus traveling through the towns and cities of a region. You may well ask, 'what region?' In Luke 7, Jesus had last been seen in the city of Nain. Let us find out where that was. A quick internet search gives us this information: less than ten miles south of Nazareth and near Mount Tabor, Nain is located in lower Galilee. Jesus traveled through the region of Galilee visiting “every” town and city. The unmentioned time frame for these events would have been between weeks and months.

The account tells us that all of the twelve disciples traveled with him. For them, it was more than a learning experience. They served the mission needs in multiple stations: seating agents, ushers, security – just to name three. Women also traveled with him, and certain facts are given. Here, I would like us to linger over the collateral points.

Only three of the women are named, but it is said that beside these, many other women traveled in his company. These women are said to have “ministered unto him” and it is assumed that it was put this way for a reason. Jesus managed the entire troop, as well as all public speaking engagements, from a singular position. Such daily rigors will take a toll on any man. Many women, each with a job to do, each volunteering to use their own “substance.”

What did they own? Did they have food? Did they share fabric for clothing? Who among them had currency to spend? I am no expert on the status of women in those times, but it is clear these women had possessions over which they had the final say and gladly used them to attend the needs of Jesus.

Of what kind or type were these women? There are the “certain women” which are described in part, and there are the “many others” who are only mentioned in passing. It may be that the certain women are representative, at least in part, of the many others. It might well have taken a chapter or two to list and describe all the women with their infirmities. So it is that through the certain women we get a sense of them all. Susanna is named but not described. Joanna was known as the wife of Herod's steward, Chuza. This woman, at least, gives us an idea of how a woman might have acquired substance, being a woman with connections.

The most explicit description is of Mary, who was as often as not, simply called Magdalene. It was as if her fame or notoriety lay in her association to the city of Magdala. She may have been recognized as typical, through her looks or appearance, as one from that city. Be that as it may, she was also the most recognized among the healed as the one from whom seven devils were driven out.

She may have been a wild one. Such women were put away or stoned. Yet, she may have been hidden – I am thinking of blood ties to important people. Some scholars think Joanna may have been the granddaughter of the high priest Theophilus, a 'person of eminent quality.' If so, could not Mary have been of similar standing? If she had a connection to high station, that would more readily explain her access to substance.

When Jesus spoke to the gathered people in verse 4, it was in the open countryside between the cities. It may have been more practical, considering the size of his troop and the number of people who came to hear him, to make camp outside city limits. It was in such a setting that Jesus delivered the sower parable.

All of us know this parable and most of us understand it. Many of us feel a connection to it for we are the physical field in which a spiritual God has planted a spiritual seed. We feel a certainty that what develops in our spirits – that is, who and what we are becoming – is the harvest that God expects.

What is especially interesting about this parable is how Jesus explains it to his disciples later. Even though he had delivered the same parable to both the people and his disciples, there was a certain dynamic at work that separated the disciples from the common crowd. That same dynamic works today to divide the believer from the non-believer.

The best way I can explain it is with an illustration of biceps. Think of the believer as the bicep on the right arm and the non-believer as the bicep on the left arm. The believer is exercised where the non-believer goes unused. The same dynamic that sees the exercised muscle grow sees the unexercised muscle shrivel away.

Mark 4:25 says, “For he that hath, to him shall be given: and he that hath not, from him shall be taken even that which he hath.” That is the dynamic, and every time I think of it I am reminded of how exercised muscles get bigger while ignored muscles get smaller.

Just like physical muscles, our spiritual attributes may either be exercised or ignored. If you do either, even in secret, the proof of it will be evident. That same dynamic is applied through Jesus' statement that a tree is known by its fruit. There are basically the two directions: being more or being less.

The more you are, the more you become. The more effort you put into something, the more you will get out of it.

Jesus confirmed this with his own words. The same disciples who had just heard his explanation of the sower parable, who had been made aware of a truth that was withheld from the majority, were present when it was told Jesus that his mother and siblings wanted to see him but could not reach him for the overwhelming number of people.

And this is how Jesus responded in verse 21: “My mother and my brethren are these which hear the word of God and do it.” My friends, that is 'do' as in seek, as in strive. That is 'do' as in exercise. Anyone who seeks to be more of himself can ill afford to ignore the word of God. Anyone who seeks truth must give credence to his spiritual qualities. He must not only seek, but grasp, and most importantly, he must exercise.

Human Nature

Luke 7:36-50 continues from the same events. To remind ourselves of those events, Jesus had been witnessed healing plagues and infirmities, driving out evil spirits, giving sight to the blind, cleansing lepers, putting the lame back on their feet, and raising the dead. The witnesses included disciples, a crowd, the locals of Nain and their religious leaders. One of the local Pharisees invited Jesus to eat with him in the house where he lived in Nain.

We are somewhat inclined to view the Pharisees only as the enemies of Jesus, always offended by his claims, always planning his demise. We gather this from their words and deeds. That this Pharisee invited him into his home shows us a different side to their nature. They were, after all, members of their respective communities. They were often social and civil. Pharisees cared adamantly about the law. That was their bone of contention with Jesus.

The fact that this Pharisee, Simon by name, was so kindly disposed toward Jesus might indicate a certain kinship of spirit, for it is obvious that Simon did not invite just anyone into his home. There were a whole city full of sinners to whom Simon's home was off-limits. And yet, a sinner somehow managed to get past the Pharisee's house servants to crash the party.

Having gotten past the witless servants, Simon still spotted the intruder. He could tell a sinner from a block away. What I want to ask here is how did he know at a glance? Was it the way the woman dressed, or the fact that she was female, or uninvited? Was she poor and ragged? Was she of the Samaritan people? Did Simon know this particular sinner personally? I doubt this woman's sin was adultery, else she might already have been stoned and unable to attend.

Yes, this is the story of the woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears. I am not here to rehash that tale; you can hear the forgiveness end of that story in church. Having no clear answer how Simon knew she was a sinner, I turn my attention to a detail few of us consider – that is where she stood. The Bible text informs us that she stood behind Jesus in a position conducive to the washing of his feet. That fact is an indication of the seating of those times.

It is believed that there were no chairs in those days, that people reclined on padded benches, or else on arranged pillows. In an arrangement like that, reaching the food becomes an issue. Of course, servants might have served them, but other than that, the seating would have been close. I think this may have been the case for there is no mention of anyone other than Jesus being invited to eat. So then, the picture is this: Jesus and Simon reclining close to one another – a comfortable situation that allowed casual conversation and easy access to the food.

An easily identifiable sinner came in. She carried an alabaster box of ointment. Were they expensive in those days? Was the ointment expensive? How did the sinner come by the box of ointment? Did she steal it, or had she spent hard earned coin to buy it? At any rate, she was able to stand behind Jesus and wash his feet with tears and anoint his feet with ointment.

This portion of text is also the place we find the parable of the two debtors. I have treated this parable elsewhere. I'll not rehash it here, instead, I would like to turn our attention to what the Pharisee forgot to do. While Simon was being civil and social, why did he not complete the custom with a kiss and with water for Jesus to wash his feet in? Was Simon being rude? Was he so overwhelmed with recent events that he simply forgot? Was he, perhaps, focused on a plan to get Jesus alone and trap him in word games while Jesus' guard was down?

After the short parable about the two debtors, which Jesus employed to show Simon the link between love and forgiveness, he told him that the woman's sins were all forgiven. There are two points in that exchange that I wish to address. First was the beginning of the exchange.

Jesus told Simon he had something to tell him. In his own words, this is how Simon answered in verse 40, “Master, say on.” What we have here is a case of a Master calling a Master 'Master.' Was that a professional courtesy? Is this an indication that Jesus was one of them – a Pharisee? It certainly gives me pause for thought. Second is the aftermath of forgiving a sinner.

Jesus explained himself with the parable and in the light of that explanation, turned and forgave the woman. The aftermath shows me that there was at least one other person eating with Simon and Jesus: thus the use of 'they.' The fact that they thought the same or similar thought, comparing his actions of forgiveness to his previous miracles of the day, lead me to believe that there was at least one other Pharisee in the group. Their mindset is portrayed thus: ' He performed miracles, he raised the dead, he also forgives sins. Who is he?'

For that matter, who was it, exactly, that recounted this exchange? Was it one of the Pharisees? To be fair, some scripture references indicate a close relationship between the Pharisees and at least one of the disciples of Christ, yet it still seems to me that none of them appeared on the invitation list. What I base my current opinion on is the fact that the person who recounted the tale (not necessarily the person who was the final author of the gospel) pegged the woman as a sinner initially in verse 37.

Finally, there is the point of the forgiveness of sin as Jesus explained it. Forgiveness and love go hand-in-hand. The more you are forgiven, the more you love. Also, the more you love, the more you are forgiven. Was Jesus telling us any more than that it is human nature? We love those who give us the most. We love those who give us the best. In a bar, the one who buys the drunk the most drinks is his best pal.

That is just how we are on the receiving end, but how are we on the giving end? Our human nature dictates that we either give, or forgive, those we deem the most worthy. Most of us, upon getting an unexpected gift, feel somehow obligated to give something back. When we have a choice in who we might forgive, we lean toward the innocent, or toward the person of good character. Our human nature gives us a resounding 'no' when it comes to persons of a nasty character or reputation. When they are against us, they just don't deserve the time of day.

This shows us that there is not love only on the receiving end. It is a reflection of the love on the giving and forgiving end. Likewise, I think that the love found on the giving and forgiving end is a reflection of the love that is found on the end in need. There is an unmistakable connection between the one who loves much and the one who forgives much. That connection reveals that the one who forgives sees something of himself in the one he pities. Likewise, we who stand in the greatest need look always to the one so like ourselves that he will surely understand.

It is clear that Jesus came to us in human nature and for human nature. It is clear that the reflection of the divine is seen as much in the contrite as the reflection of the humble is seen in the divine.