The Numbers in Nine

The ninth chapter of the gospel of Luke is a chapter of numbers. Let us list and consider these numbers. There were the twelve disciples, the two coats, the five loaves and two fishes, and the five thousand men – a number we should keep in mind whenever we read about 'multitudes' or 'throngs'. Then there was the number fifty; Jesus had his disciples manage the crowd, seating them in groups of that number with space enough between for the disciples to move freely. Finally, there were the twelve baskets.

Twelve is used twice, being concerned firstly with a connection to Jesus and secondly to the evidence of miracles – and not the first miracle of that day for Christ had been healing people all day. We see an unmistakable link between the twelve who belonged to Christ and the twelve that proved the miraculous power of the divine.

Two is used twice, firstly as advice not to overstock, but to allow for whatsoever might happen and secondly for the pitifully insufficient amount of fish in the face of such monumental need. There is a link here, as well. The meaning to be derived from either is not to control the miraculous but to allow for it, to serve it if need be.

We come to the five, the five thousand, and the fifty. In the tradition of Jewish numerology, known as gematria, five is the number of protection and grace, fifty is the number for the jubilee, meaning atonement, liberty, and freedom. Five thousand is not especially Jewish, in regard to their gematria, but one may see a vague reference to the plate mail that contained five thousand shekels of brass. Such a reference might also put protection in mind.

Five thousand has no numerological meaning, per se, however, one thousand symbolizes the multitude. Five thousand might then stand for grace to the multitude. Doubtless, Jesus' multitude was larger than the men who were numbered. There were also women and children. To help the reader get his or her head around such a number, the Shrine Auditorium, and Expo Hall, in Los Angeles, California, has a seating capacity of some 6,300 individuals. In terms of required space, it uses 54,000 square feet.

The number five, in some form or other, is used three times between verses one and seventeen. Jewish gematria, while it may not include five thousand, does concern itself with the number 555. Their word for it translates as 'an eagle' and specifies a swift attack. From the Greek, we derive the meaning 'discernment of spirits'. Another Greek word that adds up to 555 can mean 'desire', which might reference, for our purposes, the multitude that Jesus fed – but it can also mean 'sacrifice'.

A final interesting aside about the gematria meaning of 'an eagle' – Israel's 1970's fighter jet, Nesher (Eagle), was replaced by the American-made F-15 Eagle.

Maintaining Our Focus

It must be obvious, for those who've read my recent studies, that I've wandered somewhat afield of the topic of parables. Indeed, that was my original point of embarkation, but I feel we must maintain our focus wherever we turn our attention, for definition is essential to any scripture that is normally raced past without due contemplation.

And so, I continue, arriving now at the ninth chapter of Luke. If a man recites the numbers one through three and having just finished the first number of the three, we may not apply the word 'then' to his recitation of the last numeral. If we say, “He said one, then he said . . .”, we must apply the word then to the next numeral in line.

'Then' is defined thus: next in order of time; next in order of place. Chapter nine of Luke begins with the word 'then'. We must stop long enough to ask ourselves what this beginning follows. Jesus had just returned from the Decapolis to find the crowd patiently awaiting his return. This should indicate to us that Jesus sailed back to the place from which he had departed – the place where he healed the woman with the issue of blood and raised the only daughter Jairus.

From the city of Nain in the lower Galilee, Jesus had set about to go, as it says in Luke 8:1, “throughout every city and village.” His journey took him from the lower Galilee to a place on the coast of the lake from which he could sail across to the Decapolis and then back again. Most have Jesus sailing north to south and back again. I rather think the narrative keeps him in the lower Galilee. My own thought is that Jesus sailed across from Tiberius, or that general area, and back again.

We come to the word 'then' at the beginning of chapter nine. What better place to bring up Herod than in his own capitol city. It seems altogether reasonable that if Jesus and his disciples were in Tiberius, and people were being healed, word would get around quickly. Luke 9:9 seems very much like a clue, “And Herod said, John I have beheaded: but who is this, of whom I hear such things? And he desired to see him.” Tiberius was closer to John's stomping grounds along the Jordan than was Capernaum.

It is in this ninth chapter that we find Jesus sending out the twelve to preach and heal in the surrounding cities and towns. One thing we do not often stop to think is this: those twelve disciples were out there doing the same sort of things as Jesus had been doing. They were healing people – performing miracles. And they must have done well for when they returned, in verse 10, they were pleased enough with their first solo flight to tell their Master “all that they had done.”

Very little information is given to the seeker. We are told nothing of where the disciples went or what they did. We can infer from their manner of return that Jesus did not go with them. But, how long were they gone, and what did Jesus do in their absence? If, as I am inclined to think, Jesus was still in the lower Galilee, then he was just a hop, skip and a jump away from Magdala, the home of Mary – which was not that far from the town of Cana, where Jesus attended a certain wedding.

He was not that far from where his family lived. He could have visited home for awhile. So little information – so much imagination. It was alluded to that Herod wanted to meet him. What if he did? Herod certainly had the pull to have a man brought to his palace. Herod had listened to John. Perhaps he wanted to hear what Jesus had to say. Or, perhaps Herod perceived a threat. A conversation between the two would have developed the opinions of each for the other. We find that later, in chapter 13 of Luke, Jesus has, in fact, quite a negative opinion of Herod, calling him a 'fox'.

Fox, as an expression, implies wiliness, trickery, and deceit. These are traits one might determine of another through conversation and interaction. Consider the exchange found in Luke 13:31-32. “Certain” of the Pharisees came to warn Jesus that Herod was plotting to kill him. That was nice of them, but it also brings up the question of Jesus' relationship to the order of the Pharisees. Jesus told them to go back to the Tetrarch and tell him that on the third day he would be “perfected”. One has to stop and wonder what Jesus intended to convey with that word – and why. Herod was Jewish, therefore moved by Jewish custom and religious thought. Although Herod had John killed, we perceive from scripture that Herod, reluctant to execute the prophet, respected and feared the man.

For a Jewish leader, alone between Rome and his own people, yet still connected to his Jewish heritage and culture, what pertinence might the concept of a prophet being 'perfected', or reaching his goal, have. How might have Herod learned of Jesus' goal but through conversation? It is said that when Jesus was sent to Herod by Pilate, Herod desired to see a miracle. Had Herod tried to get a miracle out Jesus way back in chapter nine – perhaps by craft or trickery?

So, was Jesus brave enough to enter Tiberius, the home of Herod, who murdered his cousin John? After his disciples told him all that they had done, Jesus took them to a desert place that belonged to the city called Bethsaida, possibly Bethsaida Julias. Seems rather like a former city gone to ruin, a place where animals grazed. Many argue that it is a location near where the Jordan flows into the lake, and it may be where the baptisms took place. Many also think this is where the five thousand were fed.

As to that, when I explore that number in my next study, I will look also at all the numbers of this chapter.

Picture What You Read

Our habit: read and move on. We read too quickly for our own good. I suggest we slow down. It is common for me to read a sentence two or three times. I'm a very slow reader – I linger. I ask questions. I count alternate possibilities. I form a picture in my mind. One does not seek truth by zipping through a text.

We study Luke 8:40-56. Here, I will ask the reader to slow down and picture what you read. For instance, the crowd that Jesus left behind when he crossed over to the Decapolis waited patiently for his return and received him back with gladness. What should that tell us? Obviously, after the healing of the possessed man, Jesus and those with him could simply have walked down the coast to another town.

When you stop to think about it, it is as if Jesus told them, “wait here, I'll be right back.” Certainly, there are occasions where Jesus traveled by ship and the multitudes ran down the coast to meet him where he stopped. Yet, these did not anticipate his next departure, rather, they stayed in one place and waited patiently.

Now, the story that follows in these verses occurs solely within the parameters of Jesus' walk to Jairus' house. Two miracles occur. That may be enough information to build a sermon around one's predisposition, but there is a bigger picture. There are details which those who zip through fail to see.

Jairus was a ruler of the local Synagogue, a married man with a twelve-year-old daughter. It was his only child. What should that tell us? Had Jairus been married long, a twelve-year-old would have perhaps been the youngest of many children. I see a possibility that Jairus was a young man, and the twelve-year-old was his first child. Otherwise, it is possible that the family had lost children to disease or in childbirth.

This particular leader of the Synagogue made a public display of his desperation. An older leader might have tripped over his pride. As we, the seekers, are forced to move forward without the benefit of sufficient facts, it is the imagination that fills in the blanks. We are not told, at this point in the text, whether Jairus walked with Jesus or ran ahead to be with his daughter. We are told this: “But as he (Jesus) went the people thronged him.”

Anyone who has been in the middle of a large crowd knows that there is a level of noise that is pervasive. One must speak loudly to be heard above the normal susurrus of the crowd. That crowd noise, even whispered, is the result of people talking to and listening to one another. How does one get the attention of a crowd? How does one stop such a self-absorbed movement?

One could throw up their hands and yell, “Hey!” Someone had touched Jesus, and he wanted to know who. His disciples did not have to explain much – it was obvious – but they said to him, 'look around, we're all bumping into each other.' It was a woman with a twelve-year issue of blood (at which point, we must wonder why a double dose of the number 12.)

Jesus had stopped an entire multitude. He had gotten their attention. I imagine there was not so much as a whisper as they listened for what he might say next. Jesus spoke, the disciples answered, the crowd took a step back Just in case the Rabbi was angry (who knows – maybe one of them had accidentally stepped on the heel of his sandal.) The woman, with nowhere to hide, stepped forward and confessed.

Had Jairus been present on the march to his house, he would have had to wait patiently for these events to unfold – all while his little girl lay dying at home. Had I been Jairus, and knowing Jesus agreed to come, I think I would have run back home. However, Jairus did walk with, he did wait while the events unfolded. He did not know that his only child had already died.

The walk to his house might not have been that far. Towns were small in those days. Two things slowed the march, they were the woman with the issue and the crowd. Even as Jesus spoke to the woman, someone came to Jairus to tell him the sad news. Before we move on to that, let us finish with the woman.

The whole account: stopping the crowd, getting their attention, asking who touched him, disciples answering, the woman confessing, and Jesus' response – that all may have taken no more than fifteen minutes. There are two points to consider, and they are related. The first is that Jesus told the woman it was her own faith that had healed her, and yet, (point two:) Jesus claimed to have perceived virtue leaving his person.

We must consider the connection between a faith-based decision and the divine response. They go hand in hand it seems. We must also consider the woman's desperation as parallel to the desperation of Jairus. Finally, let us also consider the physical effect on Jesus. All that depletion of virtue might have left Jesus weak and exhausted. At some future point, the seeker of truth will need to ponder the exact nature of virtue as it seems to be a real quality shared between the physical and spiritual identity.

Now, even after Jairus had been told of the death of his daughter, Jesus insisted they have faith. The woman with the issue had faith and was healed – not only had Jesus made a point of it to the crowd, but Jairus himself heard the same words. He was a witness that the woman's faith had made her whole. In this, we should be warned that none of us may approach an expectation on this order without the corresponding faith.

At the house of Jairus, Jesus allowed no one to go in with him except “Peter, and James, and John, and the father and the mother of the maiden.” Two points assert themselves: first is the list of disciples and second is the location of the mother. This list of disciples seems to be the standard fare. Peter, James, and John are the same three disciples that witnessed the transfiguration and closest to Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

If the two faith-related issues involved in these verses are a cue, then we must consider this trio of disciples in the light of faith. Perhaps, while the other disciples administered the everyday operations of Jesus' ministry, Jesus relied more on the trio for faith and spiritual bolstering. We might consider them as his prayer warriors. Their station might have been somewhat akin to that of the men who held up Moses' arms while he divided the sea.

As to the mother of the maiden, we ask why she was not inside weeping over her lost daughter? That she was standing outside the house, and thus able to be allowed in with the rest, seems somewhat less distraught and tragic. Had she come out to meet them at the door? Was she one of those who had come to Jairus with the news? It is a small point, I agree, and you might wonder why I even bring it up. What is a seeker to do with such a small detail? For me, it paints the picture more vividly in the hues of human nature and adds to the veracity of the account.

Six people enter, Jesus, Peter, James, John, and the parents. There are people present in the room where the body lies. Relatives, perhaps, and friends of the family. Professional mourners, I expect. All of them were familiar with death. Others had died, they had gone to comfort other families and other friends. In those days, death was to be expected – more so than in our modern era of medicine.

So, when Jesus claimed the girl only slept, “they laughed him to scorn.” That is some pretty severe laughing, and bitter ridicule. Obviously, the disciples did not laugh – they had already seen him raise the dead. I would not imagine that the parents laughed as their hope for remedy was too dire. Here, we see more of the authority of Jesus – the same authority that stopped the crowd and commanded their immediate attention.

He, the girl, her parents in a tearful embrace, and with his three stalwart companions by his side, Jesus took the hand of the girl and brought her back. Let us go further than most and see the things that others overlook. Jesus was in the habit of being spot-on. He told it like it was. One thing we find in this account, as compared to other dead being raised, Is what Jesus tells the parents. He tells them to feed her. We do not often see that in an account of Jesus raising the dead – and he had said that she only slept. His words are rather like those of a Doctor.

Perhaps the girl had a condition that only looked like death. But, Jesus told the parents one other thing, and it is most curious. He told them to tell no one. Obviously, that didn't happen, but, why would he say such a thing? As soon as the girl came out of the house, it would be known. Jesus had just ejected those who had laughed him to scorn because they knew the girl was dead. They stood outside speaking with people in the crowd.

And the crowd, based on the reputation of the Rabbi, would certainly be expecting something of the kind. We know that Jesus said similar things to others – but, what was it Jesus thought to hide? Unless – such words were reverse psychology. All had heard his words regarding faith. I suppose he preferred that the facts not be reported where they might hinder the growth of faith.

Pigs and Devils

On the shore of Lake Gennesaret, below Mount Hermon, in the city of Hippos, or possibly a town slightly to the north in the Decapolis, Jesus stepped off the ship. He had just calmed the wind and sea. There, he was met by a man possessed of devils. A similar account in the Gospel of Matthew speaks of two possessed men.

The possessed man in the Gospel of Luke, 8:27-38, wore no clothes. He ran wild where the dead were interred. Men had often tried to restrain him, but he had always broken free of his bonds. In today's Western culture, that man might go unnoticed, or even find acceptance. Make no mistake, however, we are reading an account of actual demonic possession. It is described for us in black and white, so, let us examine that description.

The expression “unclean spirit” can be interpreted as 'unclean mind' speaking more of moral abandon than violence or evil intent. Unclean is also a word used in connection with Jewish ceremonial acceptance. For an example, touching a dead body made one ceremonially unclean. The fact that it is said “ for oftentimes it had caught him” denotes a state that was not consistent. Sometimes on and sometimes off might be an apt description of his condition. That the town folk attempted to restrain him, lends itself to several interpretations.

It could be that when the man found himself in his altered state, that he would hurt himself and that might be one reason he was constrained. He could have occasionally hurt others. While that area is normally considered to have been more Greek and Roman than Jewish, it still might have been possible that his state of wild moral abandon was seen as offensive. It might have been that the town folk simply wanted to shut him away from their women and children. It might also have been that his altered state somehow affected their livelihoods. They were hard working gentile swine herders after all.

One of the most important descriptions of his possessed state, however, was the fact that he could speak and reason. When He met Jesus on the shore, Jesus commanded the unclean spirit to remove itself. The man was in one of his possessed states. Yet, even being possessed as he was, he fell to his knees, reasoning and pleading with Jesus in a knowledgeable fashion.

Here is a startling fact: the history of mankind is the history of possession. Man has either been found in his right mind or in his wrong mind. When I say 'mind' you should understand by now that I mean 'spirit'. The spirit, or mind, is non-corporeal, yet, it does its best in connection to a physical vehicle. In the Biblical creation story, we find the physical vehicle (Adam) being enhanced with a spirit (mind) after which he was identified as a 'living soul'.

It may be said that the spirit 'needs' even 'craves' a connection with a physical host. Here, I would remind the reader, in defense of my statement, that Jesus explained that connection in this way in Matthew 12:43, “When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walks through dry places, seeking rest, and finding none.” Every spirit needs a home. So sometimes, when the bad spirits find a place that is 'swept', they move all their buddies in with them. Then, to the 'imminent rueage' of a quiet community, these devils begin to party like there is no tomorrow.

So Jesus takes a moment to talk to this guy. He addresses the spirit inside, who names himself Legion because there were many of them. Rather smacks of schizophrenia. Jesus and Legion come to an understanding, in other words, they strike a bargain. They have to come out of the man, but Jesus won't drive them out entirely. Instead, he will allow the spirits (minds) to possess nearby pigs. Every spirit craves a vehicle.

But – was this cunning on the part of the Son of God? Did he know the vehicles would reject the sudden introduction of alien minds? Did he know the brains and bodies would react violently? Or – did Jesus, at that point deliberately drive the pigs into the lake? Here's the thing: the pigs didn't run in circles, and they didn't run in odd directions. As one, the all ran in one direction: down the slope and into the lake. Whether the pigs panicked or the Lord drove them to their deaths, the result was the same. Legion lost his home and was forced to walk through dry places seeking rest and finding none.

Now, the villagers lost their living in this exchange. If they had lost their livelihoods to a normal circumstance, they would have come out in anger rather than fear, but fear the Lord they did, because they knew the man who had been possessed. They had tried and failed to constrain him, yet, here he sat at the feet of a powerful Rabbi whose exploits preceded him. All they could do was ask him to leave and cause no more grief. This man could have lived anywhere, and Jesus could have found a possessed man to save anywhere else. Jesus, for that matter, could have sent the unclean Legion into the birds flying above, but he didn't. He destroyed a herd of nasty pigs. Is there a message in that?

In verse 31, Legion asked that they not be commanded to “go out into the deep.” Yet, when they entered the pigs, the herd ran into the lake and were drowned. We might think of the lake as 'the deep', but on another hand altogether, the deep spoken of in verse 31 might be the definition of the 'dry places' devils seek to avoid. I can imagine the deep as a great void (Luke 16:26) that is neither here nor there. It might be a dark and featureless hell where any spirit (mind) would find great difficulty navigating. We might think of that 'deep' as a bottomless pit or even a lake of burning fiery torment.

How does a spirit navigate such a deep? Indeed, all navigation there may be no more than an attempt to escape. How does one walk without feet or grasp without fingers? How does anyone navigate without a vehicle? We have a saying which may well come from that hellish void, and it goes like this: 'I feel for you; I just can't reach you.' 

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.