The Tower

The next parable is about assessment and sufficiency. It may be found in Luke 14:28-33. Christ spoke to his disciples about the cost of discipleship. Do you want to be a disciple? Check first to see if you have what it takes. It is not a thing that one may take lightly. It is not a mere title that allows one to sit on imagined laurels, rather it is an undertaking, a task, an ongoing endeavor.

If you intend to build a tower, you sit down first to count the cost. Do you have the resources to finish what you begin? If you lay the foundation, but the tower sits unfinished, you will be mocked as someone who had no clue about the real work or financing that goes into such a matter.

If you are a king at war with another king, you sit down first with your counselors to see if your 10,000 soldiers even have a chance against those 20,000 enemy combatants. If not, you send an ambassador seeking terms of peace while the enemy is still a great way off. This is your ship, and if you must, you will go down with it. First, however, you must ensure the safety of your people. There is no place here for bluster or pride.

We must question the tower builder and the king. What must they have drawn on to accomplish each task at hand? What sacrifices would they have made to ensure the completion of their hopes and plans? If the tower builder had seen an insufficiency of funds, he might have borrowed from a lender, or sold some possessions. The fact that he wanted a tower suggests that he already had possessions: a farm with fields, and crops that required enhanced storage, or else a business that needed surveillance, else a means of communication with other towers.

The king is shown to have 10,000 troops. That number is indicative of the population from which the soldiers were drawn. A kingdom suggests powers and assets from which to draw further. There are businesses paying taxes – take some extra in time of need. There are citizens which may be drafted and trained to fight – do so.

Sacrifices are sometimes needful. The builder might not want to sell his possessions or place himself in debt, but if he is really committed to his hope, he will even give up all that he has. The king may not wish to strain the relationship he has with the citizenry, he may be having his reputation tested. He will have to make choices, even sacrifices. He will have to choose between his reputation and his kingship. He may be called upon to give, or to give up, all that he has. It was common knowledge that losing kings did not fare well.

Christ made a strong case: forsake all that you have or you cannot be a disciple.

Will you be found?

Speaking of treasure, the next parable describes a windfall. We find it in Matthew 13:44. “The kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field.”
This is a small parable that paints a big picture. Let's take a moment to visualize the scenario.

Let's say you are out walking. You are in a field. It is not your usual place. It is a piece of land that is owned by another person. It is not currently in use, and, as a result, wander walk freely. You stub a toe or catch a glint of something out of place – like yourself. No one is around; you start to dig a little. You find something of interest, something of value, but you are uncertain how much is buried there. So you cover the item of interest and run home for your special investigation tools.

That night, when you are sure you will not be discovered, you return with a shovel and spade to dig until there is nothing left to discover. Your eyes are wide, you pant for air. Aside from your labors, you are unquestionably beside yourself with excitement. What you've uncovered is special. It is quite literally a treasure.

It is a banner day, but there is a problem with your windfall – it is on land that belongs to another. It is certain the owner is unaware of it, else he would have availed himself of it. It is probable that the previous owner knew nothing of it as well. Yet, by all rights, it belongs to the owner of the land. Then it dawns on you, you can be the owner. You hatch a mighty plan.

You go to great lengths to hide the treasure in the same field; you want no one else to stumble upon it. So you hide the treasure in a place, and in a manner, that is least likely to be found by another. You realize that the land is owned only by default. If the owner was well to do, the land would most certainly be worked. You feel confident the owner will respond to an offer of purchase.

Phase two of the plan is more difficult. You gather your resources, liquidate your assets. Nothing is spared, and you feel you can offer a price the owner will view favorably. To your great delight, the owner sells, and you become the rightful and lawful owner. You did not steal the treasure; it is truly yours.

The parable does not so much depict the one-up you might happily experience. Rather, it depicts the lengths to which the kingdom of heaven is willing to go. The world may own you, and there you sit, undeveloped, going to weed. The treasure hidden within you is wasted on the current owner.

Then, a price is paid. You lawfully belong to one who can make the most of us.

Another thought has occurred to me. What if the owner of the field knew about the treasure? I'm wondering if the owner saw that treasure as a treasure. We have a saying that goes like this: one man's rubbish is another man's treasure. He neither wanted it nor did he make any use of it. It was only a treasure for you. So when you hid it, it was not from the owner, but others like yourself. Others might have done the same thing, but you wanted the treasure alone. It was just that personal.

Are you a scribe?

This next parable is not only one of my personal favorites, but also seems to link several other parables into a cohesive synthesis. It may be found in Matthew 13:47-50. In it, heaven is compared to a net that is cast into the sea, which gathered of every kind of fish indiscriminately. The net is only the first part of a work, and may at once be seen to represent the many pearls of the merchant, or the seeds of the farmer which are sown broadcast into the field.

In all of the scenarios, we see a clear and unmistakable intent. It was always the goal of the merchant to trade up. It was the intent of the farmer, that while many situations were supplied equally, the best seeds in the best soil was always the hoped for combination. As for the fishermen, when their net was full, they drew it to shore and sat down to complete the final phase of their labor. Many are called, but few are chosen. Only what the fishermen deem most desirable is gathered into vessels for safe keeping. The good choice is their livelihood, it is their life – literally.

So what happens to the many? Are they thrown back into the sea? Are they used as fertilizer? No. They are thrown into the fire so they won't raise a stink. Remember here that fire and fuel goes together. But, the point here defines what is kept, and what is removed from the catch. The entire work, with attention given to phase two, is compared to the end of the world, a time foretold when heaven's catch will be sorted.

In the end of the world, God's angels, Christ's mighty army, will be sent into the world. At that point, the many will have been called, the net will have been dragged to shore; the work of phase two will begin. Here, we recall what Christ said about two men in one bed: one is taken, one remains. A common interpretation, here, is that of the Rapture, in which God's elect are taken, and the undesirable are left behind. However, that is not the case.

The work of the angels is to sever the wicked from among the just. It is not the just that are taken, for they are preserved in vessels. It is the wicked that are taken out from among the just. Throwing them back into the sea is not an option. Christ makes it quite plain that the wicked will be thrown into a furnace of fire, which must be viewed in spiritual terms rather than a destruction of carcasses. Yes, there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth, but that is not the point of the parable.

When Christ finished the parable, he asked his disciples if they understood what he was trying to get across. When they answered in the affirmative, Christ then tied the parable to his summation. It was more like a mini-parable, no more than a rudimentary comparison, a simple statement, but that final statement was intended to be the point of the previous parable.

What was that statement, and what was that point? We look in Matthew 13:52, “Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is a householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old.”

Christ is literally telling his disciples, 'this is what I want you to get from the net parable.' If the seeker of truth wishes to get the same thing from the parable, he or she must dissect the summation into its various parts, and define them.

Those parts are: 'every scribe', 'instructed unto', 'kingdom of heaven', 'householder', 'bring forth', 'his treasure', 'things new and old.' All of the definitions that we will derive have a direct link to the parable of the net. Before we can tie a scribe to a fisherman, we must be able to see what a scribe and a householder have in common. Our first definition will be scribe/householder and fisherman/net user(possible angel).

A scribe is defined by his or her calling. The fact that Christ referenced 'every scribe', places the individual in question into a less than specific realm, somewhere between the absolute commonplace and the absolute unconventional. The calling would include secretarial and administrative duties, and the impetus would be one of acquisition and building. A data analyst would build his database. A farmer would build barns and silos. A fisherman would build his stockpile. A scribe would build upon a wealth of discovery and revelation. A householder will build a unique and defensible domain.

A modern twist on scribe is the seeker: curious, earnest, and focused. He is like the householder in that both live in their acquisitions. All that they seek and acquire becomes their personal domain and private treasure. These two are like the fisherman in that they must pick and choose the thing that will sustain them.

The fisherman fishes to live. The householder adds to and maintains what is his apart. The scribe, the seeker, is the 'prepared soil' of the farmer. He or she has the heavenly inclination. Christ made the point that we are instructed 'unto' the kingdom of heaven. We are prepared and trained. Our eyes and ears are geared toward, or 'unto', the truth. The kingdom of heaven, therefore, must be defined as that which a scribe or a seeker may see, hear, understand and record. We might alternatively call the kingdom of heaven the kingdom of the message. Heaven, being spiritual, must always be viewed as the reception and transmission of the Word.

For a fisherman to earn a living, he must be able to produce a catch. That is his treasure. For a farmer to have a harvest, he must transmit to his fields the seeds of a previous harvest. That is his treasure. Likewise, the householder and scribe must also be able to bring forth from their treasures, neither of which can be insubstantial or illusory. The scribe and householder use their respective treasures just like the merchant of pearls. They must use them to trade up, to bring forth more of the same. Like the merchant, the householder will use old treasures to obtain new treasures.

The fisherman may find a strange new fish in his net some day. If it meets the criteria of what he wants, he will not discard it. The common link in all these scenarios is the scribe, the disciple, the seeker of and maintainer of the message. The work of the scribe is not unlike the work of heaven, for heaven is the householder/fisherman/scribe/pearl merchant who takes of his old treasure to bring forth treasure that is new. Heaven trades up to itself. Heaven gathers itself into vessels. Heaven is the seeker seeking the truth of itself, and, as the householder knows, it takes treasure to make treasure.

One-up

Next up: Matthew 13:45-46 – Heaven is like a merchant man seeking goodly pearls. Most of us have more than a passing familiarity with this parable, as it is used both by the church, and by the secular sector. We recall that the merchant found one pearl of great price, and when he had, he sold all that he had to obtain it.

Most people view this as an allegory that loosely defines an individual's quest toward spirituality. The common understanding places the individual as central, and in an upward transition where he or she does, finds, achieves, or becomes more.

However, it is not the merchant, but heaven, that is the true subject of the parable. Heaven owns, seeks, sorts through many 'pearls' – all of which hold qualities of value, and unique beauty. The substance of heaven is spent in the acquisition of such notable treasure. The focus of heaven is bent toward these alone.

And yet, when a pearl is found to be more than notable – when one is found to be exceptional, uncommon, extraordinary – that pearly treasure is sought at the expense of the rest. Heaven trades in all the notable pearls for this one pearl of great price. How great is the value of this one pearl? That should be plain in the fact that all other pearls are sold, and using not just the price of the pearls, but all that he possesses to purchase it. That, of course, would include possessions beyond the pearls.

We are the pearls that heaven deals in. Most of us possess a unique beauty, and value. But for most of us, our highest value consists in our being traded up to obtain the uncommon individual of great price. Heaven stands ready to surrender all it possesses to acquire it, moreover, heaven places in that object all of its desire, and attention. Heaven's full focus turns to the one.

That alone should give us a new perspective on the expression “many are called, but few are chosen.” We should, therefore, be thoroughly impressed with the difficulty of reaching the strait gate. The way is actually so narrow that only the one may pass through it. If we, as individuals, are attempting to one-up, especially those of us with spiritual inclinations, we must derive a definition for the one, and with full focus, seek what that is.

For Christians, that will be one of two things: either you busy yourselves saving others, or you busy yourselves becoming the one. If any of you are willing to look it up, a hint toward the latter goal may be found in John 17.

Heaven like leaven

Heaven like leaven ( a nice rhyme ) – this curious parable is found in Matthew 13:33. Is it mere chance that these words come down to us rhyming each other? Now, this parable, for all its brevity, is rich in food for thought. We note that leaven is something small, on the order of a mustard seed. One needs a microscope to see the actual work of yeast. Leaven gets bigger with time. It grows. We think of expansion, we think of increase, we think of rising.

We are told that a woman 'took' the leaven. She would have to, I'm sure, as she was not born with leaven in her hands. The representation is of something outside of ourselves, of something that we take up, and add to our state – something that we can work with, and make something by its inclusion. But, why a woman?

Traditionally, that is to say: from the point of view of that time and culture, bread making was a woman's work. It fell outside the purview of the common man. It was a restricted field of activity, a thing of narrow focus. The only one we might expect to take up leaven and bread making was the woman.

Here, we should not view the parable as relating only to women, per se – since we must make the leap from leaven to heaven – rather, we must see the issue as something that is taken up by individuals with an inclination to that particular narrow focus, individuals focused and dedicated to their own narrow field of personal interest.

As I am fond of saying – that particular path is open only to those who are open to that particular path. Therefore, taking up heaven, or truth, or the work of the kingdom – that is a particular matter that falls to those with an inclination to take up that particular matter. We are a qualified group of narrowly focused individuals, we find the matter to be one of personal interest.

The common man is a far-reaching group comprised of individuals spinning in tight restrictive circles. There are atheists and agnostics, people interested in work, and people interested in play, professionals, scholars, transients, butchers, bakers, and preachers. All of them are focused on what is in front of them. None of them stray from their field of focus. Like the others in the list, there are also truth seekers, laborers for the kingdom, and those with a heavenly inclination. These also remain true to their field of focus. They are the bread makers; think of that when you recall that Christ said, “I am that bread of life” and “This is the bread which comes down from heaven . . .”


The final detail of this parable is the richest morsel of them all. You'd think the most efficient way to make bread would be to simply throw the yeast in the whole lump, that is not the case in this parable; the leaven is added to three small measures. In effect, the leaven is taken up, and included into three divisions of our state, with a personal interest, or goal, in mind. Here is where definition serves us best, for we must define our 'state', and the three divisions of our state into which we include the heavenly leaven.

Our state is ever connected. We are connected to our environment, our community, our family, our co-workers – and, just as surely as our left brain is connected to our right, our physical/emotional self is connected to our spiritual self. Each and every self, or group of selves, is connected to the spirit through the spiritual self. Every point in the list above is connected to every other point via some form of communication. No state is without communication, therefore, we must define our state as a relay point in a chain of looped communication.

The three communicative divisions of our state exist in our physical, emotional, and spiritual natures. The three measures of meal are seen, then, as equally distributed to, as well as equal in development. No part is, or should be deprived. We may infer from this what kind of individual we wish to be. Each division may develop best in the company of other such divisions – thus the whole point of dividing in the first place, but to truly get the meaning of this, we must see that these divisions are meant to be a whole.

No one part of us should develop at the expense of some other part. All three of our natures: physical, emotional, and spiritual are meant to combine as a whole, and not just that, but intentionally, by predisposition, design, and as a set goal. If we view the combined three natures as a living creature – say, a head connected to two legs, each with hands instead of feet, we might well imagine how some creatures will look due to poorly developed appendages.

Some will be all head, two small tabs struggling to hold it up. Some will have one or more mighty legs, adept in grasping and taking, but so blind they continuously run into walls. The common man is such a creature, well-developed emotions and or physicality, the head only developed enough to aid it's grasping appendages. Even the common preacher, who claims to be spiritual, is seen as more emotionally developed than spiritual. Those with a heavenly inclination, those who labor for the kingdom, must seek the truth of wholeness.

Our physical/emotional half is a relay point in a looped communication between the physical experience, and our spiritual half. Our spiritual half is a relay point in a looped communication between our spiritual roots and our more corporeal branches. We must deprive ourselves of no one part to favor another, for we are meant to be whole: just as spiritual as physical/emotional.

Can you fly?

The three versions of the mustard seed parable are found in Matthew 13:31-32, Mark 4:31-32, and Luke 13:19.

The basic elements of these three parables are the same, with the supporting details differing only in the smallest of deviations. The mustard seed was sown in a field, sown in the earth and cast into a garden. The seed is described as the least of all seeds, less than all the seeds that be in the earth, and in Luke, is not described in any fashion.

This seed, which was twice sown and once cast, was the greatest among herbs, becoming a tree in Matthew, while in Mark, it grows to become greater than all herbs, shooting out great branches. In Luke, the seed grew and waxed a great tree. In all the parables, the birds and fowls of the air found lodging in the branches of, and under the shadow of the mustard tree. We may take this to mean that the birds found a temporary home, a place of refreshing, and a platform from which sprang the usual business of employed birds.

Other than the rather generic “sown in the earth”, placing such a tree in a field or garden carries with it a two-fold intent. The purpose of a large tree in a field or garden is not merely one of decoration. During harvest, one may imagine the workers seeking respite from the heat of the day. While the field or garden matures, birds will come down from their roost to eat the parasites that normally plague the fruit.

The birds are employees whose every need is satisfied. In symbolic terms, we may see the church as a mustard seed for the field, and the faithful as gainfully employed. We may also view the mustard tree as the more spiritually capable individual, to which fly all who are in need of direction, instruction, and personal growth. To what might we liken the field or garden? It may sound strange to some, but I envision a field of birds, a garden of birds. They are immature, unable to fly. It is only through the employment of the birds of the air that the birds of the ground may ever arise.

Second Chances

More on those servants in our next parable. We find this one in Luke 13:6-8. The story goes like this – a man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard. He looked to have fruit from it for three years, and for three years was disappointed. He finally gave up and told the dresser to have it removed, for he now thought that it took up space that might be put to better use. It cumbered the ground, he thought, choking and limiting the place it occupied. The dresser asked him to give it one more year so that he might dig around it and add fertilizer. It is a small parable, but a large story.

If we think of God as the man who had the fig tree planted in his vineyard, what does this parable tell us about God's purposes? A man with a vineyard grows grapes, that's the fact of the matter. What he wants is a harvest of grapes. Why put a fig tree in the middle of all those grapes? An experiment? Aesthetics? Leviticus 19:19 shows us that God placed a restriction on experimentation: “thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed.”

Was God being a rebel? Was he bending his own rules? Why was there room enough to put a fig tree among the grapes – and what does that say of you and I? Are we grapes or figs? I should ask, rather, is our thinking like the fruitful vine, or the unfruitful tree? How long has God hoped to get something out of us, only to be disappointed?

Slated to be uprooted and used as firewood, an unlikely individual thought to give us one last chance. Who does the dresser represent? Is he an angel, or is he that obnoxious neighbor who is always trying to cram his religion down our throats? (I am speaking here for the fruitless trees.) We would rather hope for the angel, a being of splendor and power. The neighbor offers us only what we don't want.

If I was a tree being dunged, I doubt I would understand the good of it. I doubt I could fully appreciate the power of the obnoxious neighbor. That power, of course, is the power to care, to love, to hope in second chances. As I said before, Those who attend such truths, as the servants of the parable, approach the matter only through a genuine interest in the outcome. It is we the servants who keep an eye on the fields.

The Harvest

Continuing in the vein of seeds and sowing, let us consider the parable found in Matthew 13:24-30. Christ describes for us the kingdom of heaven, showing us whose it is, what it includes, and what is removed. By implication, the location of the kingdom is also shown.

'The kingdom of heaven is like a man that sowed good seed in his field.'

At once, we see that one entity possesses the entire farm: the field, the barn, and all else. It is the farmer. In other words, it is the one who has invested himself into the labor. This farmer has bought land, built a barn, prepared the field, and put his best seed toward his goal.

We can see a clear connection between the farmer in the parable and God in his kingdom of heaven. What we must also be able to see is that God is not a flesh and blood farmer. He is a spiritual farmer, who plants spiritual seed in a spiritual field. If it has anything at all to do with flesh and blood people like you and me, it has to do with our spirits – that is to say: our minds.

What might be the goal of a spiritual farmer? If he prepares our spirits, and plants spiritual seed there, he himself being spirit, he expects a spiritual harvest: a matured spiritual product, or the end result of growing spiritual seed in the field of our spirits. This harvest will see two ends. One is storage for reuse, while the other is consumption.

As the story continues, the flesh and blood farmer of the parable slept, and while he did, his enemy sought to spoil the harvest by planting among the wheat a weed that is fit neither for consumption, nor again for reuse. The tares of the parable are a plant that is almost identical to the wheat. At maturation, however, it proves its uselessness with an obvious lack of fruit. The enemy went his way, the hired help noticed the tares, and the farmer concluded that his enemy was to blame.

What might this part of the story say about the spiritual truths to which Christ points? Does God sleep? Is the devil waging a war of attrition? Is the planting of tares part of a cycle – to which we must ask, are there enough good seed to insure a continued and flourishing enterprise? The spiritual nature is indeed one of cycles. Those who attend such truths, like the servants in the parable, approach the matter only through a genuine interest in the outcome, and despite natural passions, will always defer to the wisdom of the farmer.

Many of us picture this parable as a depiction of the end (the one in which the angels come forth and sever the wicked from among the just.) We tend to see our souls, that is to say: our personal identities, as the harvest. If that is the case, then we must also assume that the tares are almost identical to who we are: pseudo-souls, almost-people, not-quite-folk. They walk among us.

On the other hand, it is safe to say that a spiritual entity, who plants spirit in spirits, is not planting people. It is also safe to say that people are not the desired harvest. What is the good spiritual seed of a spiritual farmer? God is God, good is good, spirit is spirit, mind is mind. There is only the One. What we see in the parable is the mind of wheat as opposed to the mind of tare. We see a fruitful mind as opposed to a fruitless mind.

It is true enough to assume that our identities are not the same as our souls – for as we see in the Biblical creation story, a living soul includes a body of flesh and blood. Still from our point of view, we are very much attached to our spiritual allegiances. We either think and act like what God is working toward, or we think and act like the thing Satan planted in the field – which field still very much belongs to God.

The final determination of the parable is that both wheat and tare develop together. The wheat becomes more wheat-like, and will never change its nature. The tare becomes more tare-like, and its nature cannot be changed. If the tare is in your mind, God will bundle all such thinking together to be burned (and here, my suggestion is to view that not as hell and damnation, but as a source of fuel.) If the wheat is in your mind, the fruit will be consumed spiritually to maintain and magnify the spirit, while some of that fruit will be stored, to be planted in new fields.

I alluded to the location of the kingdom of heaven at the beginning of this study. Like the farmer, who has his field and barn and seed and hoped for harvest, all of this work being his – heaven's kingdom is where the work of God is enacted. It is all here, in the thoughts of our minds, and all around us in our works, for it is we the servants who watch the fields.

As a man thinks

Now we turn to farming. 'A sower went out to sow'. We see intent; we see the purpose – but not necessarily the sower's qualifications. Instead, we see that this sower throws seeds anywhere and everywhere. Perhaps he is not the farmer, but a hired hand. This parable is found in Matthew 13:3-9.

Some fell: by the way side, on stony ground, among thorns, on good ground. Seems this guy was in a hurry to get through. Impoverishment was not an issue, neither scarcity of seed. The process seems disorderly, yet a certain amount of seed does appear to fall within the parameters of 'good ground'.

Each final location of sown seed, of course, is meant to represent a measure of human reception. All are measures of the human condition, and show plainly not only that all of us receive the same seed, but also illuminates what each of us might do with what we receive.

Way side? Too busy. Stony ground? Uncommitted. Thorns? Hanging with the wrong crowd. For the way side, the parable states that the gift is trampled down without concern, that it is fodder for the wild animals. Some variations of the parable also show the gift being eaten by worms, or in other words, spoiling and becoming foul.

For the stony ground, the parable expresses a lack of moisture and depth of earth. It cannot find a place to take root, and thus becomes a pitiful attempt that ends in harsh failure. Does the seed fail? No, It is of the same stock that falls into good ground. No, it is the stony ground that fails. And for thorns, the parable shows us that the fruit can only be choked out – thwarted by the proliferation of everything other.

The parable gives us only one winning combination: seed falling into good ground. In certain variations of this parable, the 'good ground' is put forth as ground that has been prepared for the seed. Let us take a moment to consider the standard for successful farming.

Firstly, it cannot be the way side; prepared ground is ground dedicated to one purpose. Stones must be removed so that the seeds can take root. The thorn bush must also be removed: the farmer wants no competition with his seed as he has dedicated the good ground only to his own seed. So then, the entire field must be worked to insure that the seed gets equitable amounts of moisture and sunshine.

In this parable, the seed sprang up and increased. Some thirty, sixty, and a hundred fold. Let us briefly consider seeds that produce ears – like wheat or corn. How many ears can a single ear reproduce? Here in the Midwest, I see huge fields of corn, and know that each ear contains the potential to make hundreds more.

Is it only a coincidence, then, that Christ concludes with “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear?” I think not. Let us imagine that the seed is the mind of God. All of us receive it, not just the Christian, but Jews, Muslims, Atheists, and every other mind set. What we do with it is what makes of us 'way side' or 'stony ground' or 'thorns' or 'good ground'.

Since we have assumed that the seed is the mind of God, let us further consider that the 'good ground', or prepared ground, must be an adequate habitat for such mentality, and that the preparation is Christ's closing statement. The more one trains his ear to hear, the more that ear will receive. What we hear takes root in our minds. Proverbs 23:7 tells us, 'As a man thinks, so is he.'

Mind of God

Christ speaks of his relationship with Satan in Matthew 12:29, so naturally, we want to know the meaning of this parable. He had just told his audience that a house divided cannot stand, for they, including Pharisees, at least thought, and perhaps voiced the bold assertion that Jesus cast out devils by the power of Satan.

On the most basic level, none of us can do two things at once – if those two things are opposites. I can face forward, but not forward and backward. In fact, no matter how fast I might try to spin around, my back will always be behind me. How then can I both gather, and scatter abroad?

So Christ gave an example of this conundrum in a parable. It immediately points out both the problems of the situation, and the planned focus inherent in such problem solving. Not only must one map out one step at a time, but one must place those steps in their proper order. 'First, bind the strong man, then spoil his house.'

In this, Christ presaged his coming conflict with Satan, moreover his intent to take from Satan what he was guarding. Christ foretold his victory in the clear steps of the parable. Luke 11:21-22 is an alternate telling of the parable that illuminates the attributes both of the standing enemy and the coming conqueror.

The strong man armed to guard his palace represents Satan. His palace was this world, and his goods were the allegiances we made with him, and the practices we held in common. He had not only armed himself with handy weapons, but also with supposedly superior armor. If you think your armor is good enough, you feel distanced from attack. You feel safe, in a place all your own, and untouchable.

Christ said of himself, 'When a stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he takes from him all his armor wherein he trusted'. This shows us that Satan had built not only his palace, but indeed, his entire kingdom, trusting in armor that could be defeated. If he trusted in it, then so did his legions of enslaved minions, associates, and collaborators.

So then, what is the fall of such a strong man? The leader of the host is both shamed and destroyed; he is displayed as a public example. Then, the legions are judged. They are stripped of all advantages afforded by the former association, and they are punished in a manner befitting their former association. What was taken from them is divided among the new regime. The spoils of conquest are an intrinsic element of war. What side are you on?

Now, there was a moral to this story, for the teaching of Christ often extends past the parable to a closing argument. In this case, Christ points out the difference between the host of the strong man, and the host of the conqueror. It is a difference that damns the one and blesses the other.

Matthew 12:31-32 is the summation in Christ's own words. “Wherefore I say unto you, all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men, but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men. And whosoever speaks a word against the son of man, it shall be forgiven him, but whosoever speaks against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, nor in the world to come.”

So, was that the armor that Satan trusted in? Was that the price of collaboration with the strong man armed to guard his palace? What was that armor, and that perceived advantage? What were they all hiding behind? A lie will always evaporate under the conquering light of the truth.

Essentially, Christ's closing argument compared Christ with the Holy Spirit. We must be certain we have not overlooked this telling point. From the human point of view, the Trinity occupies a single entity. We may recall that Christ is, at times, portrayed as a messenger bringing a message from a higher authority. We must ask, what makes Christ the son of man, if indeed he only referenced himself?

Jesus was a man imbued with the mind of God; that is to say the spirit of God. How such a thing comes together in a man is seen in two truths. God is a spirit named Holy. And, the Holy Ghost is a spirit named Holy. Picture the host of the strong man, and also the host of the conqueror. What we actually see is what one group encourages and the other does not – a Holy mindset: the mind or spirit of God. It is both the nature and message of the messenger. You can dis the messenger, but not the message.

New wine

Matthew 9:16-17 is where we find our next parable. It speaks of sewing, cloth, wine and bottles. By now, I sincerely hope that all of us know that the language of a parable is symbolic. Parables are not merely quaint; parables use what we already understand to help us understand things we don't understand – things we're not even thinking about.

I bundle myself tightly in my work. I sit in an easy chair with my computer in front of me, my legs up, and a mouse and keyboard in my lap. It takes about a minute if I need to get up or reach something. Sometimes, what I need to reach is frustratingly just out of reach. Fortunately, I have a back scratcher sitting on my portable office nearby. It is about a foot long, and with it I can easily extend my reach.

Those things that are taught in a parable are just out of reach. The parable is a tool that extends our reach – so when Christ tells us about sewing a new piece of cloth onto an old garment, he is speaking of a common problem that many of us are already acquainted with. We, then, become equipped to reach the higher spiritual problem he wants us to pick up.

He tells us the same thing a second time using a variant, but still common problem: putting new wine into old bottles. There is a problem in both of these scenarios. It is a problem that hinges on the difference between success and failure.

What is the meaning of putting new cloth on an old garment? Firstly, it is an attempt at repairing a problem – it is a cheap fix realized through chewing gum and paperclips. The problem not only remains unresolved, it actually gets quite bad. In the illustration, the rent is made worse: the breach opens wider, and the new cloth is lost. Loss, here, is the point. Had an old piece of cloth been used, and the tear opened again, both fabrics were suitable as they were both already closer to loss than the new.

The old garment must run its course. It is meant to be lost. Old can never be made new – but new can be preserved. Adding new to old in an attempted rescue is a waste of the new. It is like casting pearls before swine. Then, there is the wine. Some cheap souls might attempt to reuse an old wine bottle, but the pressure of the new will always prove to powerful. As the Luke 5:37 variant of the parable goes: “the new wine will burst the bottles, and be spilled, and the bottles shall perish.”

New goes in new, and both are preserved. Meaning: a thing is meant to reach its end; it cannot be unnaturally preserved past its time and purpose. However, it may be renewed, by which I mean something new is spawned from the old. Something new is made to replace the old. Saving is not about the old garment, but about the type of it. Life, and eternity is not about dragging the old bottles along. Its about something totally new, and totally different.

There is a contention between success and failure – between the new and old. Success is keyed into the new and failure is keyed into the old. We naturally want to patch our favorite old jeans. Luke 5:39 tells us that our very nature strives to hang on to the old, the dear, the comforting – what we have had for so long, and invested so much of ourselves into. Any one who has tasted the old wine, will resist the new, and say the old is better.

So then, that spiritual problem just out of reach. Let us extend our reach, and take hold of it. Christ is a messenger with a new message. To put it in the old invites certain failure. Christ is life communicating life –how then can we hope to make it fit in a thing that must perish? If sight for the blind is preached, it must be preached to seeing eyes. That is the paradox. The definition is this: a way is opened only to those who are open to the way. New light for new eyes, a new message for new ears, new life for a new body. Salvation is that way. What will you make of it, failure or success?

Do the Math

Next parable, Luke 12:16-20. 'A man with a large harvest thought to pull down his old barns and build new'. It's that point many of us know and want. The upgrade; the one-up. In a sense, exchanging several old inadequate barns for one large state-of-the-art storage facility is comparable to the merchant who sold his little pearls in order to buy the pearl of great price.

'I have no room where to bestow my fruits'. It was a simple matter of logistics. The fact that he had a large harvest – what does that tell you? It tells me that he was not scratching out a simple existence. More likely, he sold his goods. The fact of several smaller barns speaks of expansion. The new storage facility speaks of a level of success that permitted the business to take the next logical step.

These elements are not the story, merely the backdrop. The story is the man's attitude of pride, his selfish driven quest for more, and of course, the blind spot in his reasoning. With greater storage filled to the max, he got cocky and proud. He thought he could live off his plenty for years, but he didn't know he was soon to die and leave everything to others.

'I will say to my soul' is a statement comparable to the pat on the back one gives oneself upon reaching a personal milestone. Such markers are reached in due time, and through no small measure of hardship. Doubtless, the man in this parable was an older man who had worked hard for many years to get where he was. He looked forward to many more years, years of ease, living off the fruit of his labors, and there is nothing necessarily wrong with that – except the math.

People die. They died sooner back then. Everyone of us faces such a point in our lives: namely the end of our lives. Many of us are hard workers, and frugal, saving up for our retirements – hoping for a few good years of ease. But, in every case where one of us dies, what we acquired in life is always left to those who remain. Sometimes, we plan it out, and other times it falls to chance.

The part about our life's work being left to others is never a problem for those who are in the habit of sharing, of caring for others. None of us know the day or hour; no one makes it out alive. But, is there room in our attitudes for other people. In our drive to be successful, have we made a place for fullness of life? The sad part of this story is not that the man died, but that he was so consumed with his plans and purposes that he overlooked the joys of the time he lived in.

What is the meaning here? Live now, love now. Do the math.

Listen to the Ages

The present was made to be a past. When you finally reach your future, it will be present but for a short time.

D L Herring

The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time.

Abraham Lincoln

It is always wise to look ahead, but difficult to look further than you can see.

Winston Churchill

It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.

William Shakespeare

Education is the passport to the future, for tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today.

Malcolm X

Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.

Corrie Ten Boom

Let the future tell the truth, and evaluate each one according to his work and accomplishments. The present is theirs; the future, for which I have really worked, is mine.

Nikola Tesla

We must welcome the future, remembering that soon it will be the past; and we must respect the past, remembering that it was once all that was humanly possible.

George Santayana

A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.

Jean de La Fontaine

The secret of your future is hidden in your daily routine.

Mike Murdock

No work or love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now.

Alan Watts

Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.

Marcus Aurelius

The empires of the future are the empires of the mind.

Winston Churchill

Let others lead small lives, but not you. Let others argue over small things, but not you. Let others cry over small hurts, but not you. Let others leave their future in someone else's hands, but not you.

Jim Rohn

The future ain't what it used to be.

Yogi Berra

Even though the future seems far away, it is actually beginning right now.

Mattie Stepanek

Hold fast to the Bible. To the influence of this Book we are indebted for all the progress made in true civilization and to this we must look as our guide in the future.

Ulysses S. Grant

It is not enough to understand, or to see clearly. The future will be shaped in the arena of human activity, by those willing to commit their minds and their bodies to the task.

Robert Kennedy

My interest is in the future because I am going to spend the rest of my life there.

Charles Kettering

The future influences the present just as much as the past.

Friedrich Nietzsche

The essence of optimism is that it takes no account of the present, but it is a source of inspiration, of vitality and hope where others have resigned; it enables a man to hold his head high, to claim the future for himself and not to abandon it to his enemy.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Choose your friends with caution; plan your future with purpose, and frame your life with faith.

Thomas S. Monson

Without forgiveness, there's no future.

Desmond Tutu

For time and the world do not stand still. Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or the present are certain to miss the future.

John F. Kennedy

I can look at the future with anticipation. And it's comforting to know that someday, as Christians, we'll be able to look back and have a little more clarity on why certain things in life happened.

Amy Grant

You know when you're young you think you will always be. As you become more fragile, you reflect and you realize how much comfort can come from the past. Hymns can carry you into the future.

Andy Griffith

We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future.

George Bernard Shaw

Let us make our future now, and let us make our dreams tomorrow's reality.

Malala Yousafzai

Prayer fine-tuned

In Luke 11:5-13, Christ begins a short parable with a question to his disciples. He had just taught them how to pray. In other words, he had taught them how to approach God with a personal request. Using their own experience, he presented a scenario, and asked them how it would most likely play out.

These are the elements of the query: approach a friend and ask for help at an inconvenient hour, the friend has settled his household for the night, his children are asleep in bed.

The scenario is easy to visualize. I see a man clutching his night clothes answering in whispers from an upstairs window: “Shoo! Go away,” he says, “You'll wake the children.” At that point, the friendship matters less than his family obligations.

From my own experience, I can say, the whole day is filled with more convenient times. When I get home from work, and I am resting – enjoying and making the most of the few hours left to my day, I am less likely to accept a visitor, or even a phone call.

Likewise, my wife settles into her evening hours after a day spent in cleaning, ordering her house, working in the yard, and other activities – all of which tax her reserves of energy and patience. In the evening, she likes to watch her soaps. She is hard pressed to take a call even from a brother or sister.

The householder in the parable is reluctant to be disturbed. Yet, he sees that the most effective return to his ordered peace is to give his friend whatever he wants, and send him quickly on his way. Christ points out to his disciples that even though the householder is not motivated by the friendship, he is moved by the importunity.

It is a life lesson many of us already understand. But, there is more. The parable falls between two important points. The first was the prayer Christ had just explained to his disciples. The second was his affirmations on asking, seeking, and knocking.

He continued by asking his disciples a series of questions with obvious answers. This he did to show natural consequence. The obvious answers were things that occurred commonly – rather like the cause and effect of family ties. The point was, if they could give what was asked for, being sinners, then surely a righteous God could.

The entire exchange relayed through these verses targets prayer, or making a request of God. It is put forth that God is not subject to importunity, as the householder of the parable was. The relationship between God, our heavenly Father, and man is also put forth. Moreover, it is not only the asking of prayer that is considered, but seeking and knocking as well.

The topics of seeking and knocking may be dealt with separately – suffice it to say that the iterated 'asking' is shown to be something not broad and general, but rather, a thing fine-tuned and specific. The point that Christ comes to is specific, and relates to the initial prayer that he taught his disciples. The point is precisely this: one thing is asked for in prayer, that being the Holy Spirit (the mind of God.)