Chapter 3: Jesus And The People

The territories and towns in this portion of the Gospel are the same as in the last, but the focus is different. Although Jesus had dealt constantly with the people and performed miracles in their behalf the disciples were always present, and Jesus explained to them all that he said and did. Indeed, the Sermon on the Mount was addressed specifically to the disciples. The closing discourse was a 'brief" of their apostolate. Even the miracles done for the people were all illustrative of the Master's expectations of the disciples. The situation was similar to a teaching hospital connected to the medical school of a large university today. To be sure, the doctors in such a hospital treat sick patients, but everything they do is in the presence of their students. The enterprise is designed to teach students how to practice medicine. The primary purpose of the previous section of Matthew is to teach the disciples how to practice discipleship and to carry on the work of the Master.

In this section of the Gospel, Jesus shifts his attention from the disciples to the crowds. Here Matthew shows Jesus dealing directly with the masses of the people. After all, they are the ones he came to seek and to save. Keep in mind that this sharp division may not have been Jesus'. Indeed, it is safe to say it was not Jesus'. We do not find such a distinct arrangement of events and teachings in either Mark's or Luke's account. Rather, this is Matthew's arrangement of the materials. All three Synoptic Gospels deal with the same material. It is the way each evangelist presents his message that makes each Gospel unique. Matthew's aim is to present Jesus as the messianic king. In this portion of Matthew's Gospel we will see Jesus in relationship with his potential subjects, the people in whose behalf he came to bring the kingdom of heaven. Even the confession of Peter, which only the Twelve experience, and the Transfiguration, witnessed by Peter, James, and John, are designed as proofs of the kingdom to be proclaimed to all after the Resurrection.

1. Recalcitrance of the Jews (Matt. 11.1 -13:58) These three chapters portend ill for the mission of Jesus in his own country. There are signs of frustration and exasperation on the part of the Master. Those who hear his words do not seem to comprehend. The people see the miracles and even benefit from them, but they have no idea at all what the miracles indicate about Jesus.

Even John the Baptist seems to have forgotten all that happened at Jesus' baptism, including his own words of testimony that the person he baptized was far greater than he, one whose sandals he was not worthy to unloose. Ile seems to have come to doubt his own mission as herald of the Messiah. From prison he sends to Jesus to ask him if he really is the promised one sent by God or if he and the people should wait in expectation of another. Jesus responds by sending word back to John of all that has happened as a result of Jesus' work. Let John make his own decision about who Jesus really is. Maybe those whom Jesus has helped can supply John with the answer: the poor, the blind, the lame, the lepers, the deaf, and even those who were raised from the dead. Jesus affirms that John the Baptist, while he was active, was the greatest of all the prophets. Why was this true? Jesus does not give the answer. But it is simply this: John is the only prophet who lived to see his prophecy fulfilled. Unfortunately he is still unaware that what he proclaimed about Jesus has all come true (Matt. 11: 1-15).

Jesus compares the unbelieving public to children playing games on the streets. At times they play ''wedding'' and so make music and dance. At other times they play ''funeral'' and cry and mourn. Jesus says that John the Baptist came with a sad face and preached judgment, but the people did not believe him. They said he was crazy. Jesus continues: ''I preached the good news of the kingdom of heaven. I ate and drank and made merry. But then you people thought I had drunk too much wine. There just seems to be no way to reach you'' (Matt. 11:16-19, AP). All the big towns around the Sea of Galilee where Jesus worked are more scandalous and reprehensible than was Sodom in Abraham's time, and they will be brought down to hell because of their recalcitrance (Matt. 11:20-24).

If the wise and prestigious members of society will not heed the Gospel, fortunately there are some who will -- the simple, the openhearted, babes, as it were, whose innocence is credulous and believing. There is pathos in this prayer of Jesus, where he thanks God that he has revealed the truth at least to this precious little band of people (Matt..11:25-26). Jesus, in desperation, tells the people that they have never really come to know him; in fact, he does not think anybody really knows him except his heavenly Father. And he is certain that he is the only one who knows God If anybody else ever comes to know God, it will be because Jesus reveals God to that person. If people only realized it, they could cast all their burdens on Jesus, and he could give them the rest they need. What he would lay on them in exchange would be a light load. "If you only knew," he says, "I am gentle, and in me you will find rest for your souls" (Matt. 11:27-30, AP). The Jews insisted on complete rest on the sabbath, anticipating perfect rest in the messianic age. Jesus says, "That rest has already come in me. The messianic age has arrived" (Matt. 12:8, AP).

The Pharisees stood aghast when Jesus and his disciples crossed through the grain fields on the sabbath, and the disciples plucked the ears of grain and ate them. This did not bother Jesus in the least, for David and his men ate the consecrated bread on the altar of the Tabernacle, and the priests changed the twelve loaves on the altar of the Temple every sabbath and ate what they took off. Now, says Jesus, one greater than the Temple is here, and the God of the sabbath can determine how that day will be spent. After all, it is set aside for God. The sabbath was for the benefit of the people. It was made for them. They were not made for it. Consequently, when the Pharisees tested him in the synagogue by pointing to a man with a withered arm and asking whether it was lawful to heal that man on the sabbath, Jesus responded by healing him. His retort was: You would rescue one of your own sheep from the ditch on the sabbath, wouldn't you? Isn't a human much more valuable than an animal? When he withdrew from town, the crowds followed him, and he responded to all their needs (Mart. 12:1-2]). He asked them not to publicize his miracles. Jesus cautioned silence, Matthew says, to fulfill another prophecy, and then Matthew gives the longest Old Testament quotation in his Gospel (Isa. 42:1-4). Many commentators think that Jesus' withdrawal from the synagogue at this point marked his abandonment of the old Israel and his inauguration of the new Israel through the church. However, this thought is not expressed in Matthew, and the inference is farfetched.

Jesus returns to heal the person who had been made blind and dumb by a devil and to show how ridiculous was the contention of the Pharisees that he performed this miracle through the power of the devil. Why, said Jesus, would the devil destroy his own work and through me tumble his own kingdom? Jesus wants them to look at the results of his actions, which had to indicate a good, benevolent source, rather than an evil source of power. When the Pharisees ask him for a sign to prove the validity of his ministry, Jesus refuses their request. If they can not deduce from what they have already seen who he is and what he is about, no additional sign will help them. The only sign that will be given them is that of the prophet Jonah. Jesus says, "For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth" (Mart. 12:40). Jonah's mission was to preach to Nineveh until Nineveh repented. That is what Jesus has been doing all the while.

Jesus says people can blaspheme against him and be forgiven, but they can never be forgiven if they blaspheme against the Holy Ghost. To blaspheme against the Holy Ghost is to refuse to believe the Gospel.

The people with whom Jesus must deal are like the Ninevites of Jonah's day. They are not different from the Queen of Sheba. However, in the end both the Ninevites and the Queen of Sheba will condemn them, because Nineveh did repent, and the Queen of Sheba left her own land and journeyed to Israel to benefit from the wisdom of Solomon (Matt. 12:41-42). These people do not realize that One greater than Solomon is standing before them. Their status will be worse than that of the man who got rid of one devil but did nothing to fill the vacuum the devil's departure had created, allowing the devil to return with seven other devils (Matt.12:43-45).

Even Jesus' own family was not free from the unbelief that afflicted the people in general. Consequently, when he was told his mother and brothers were nearby and wanted to see him, Jesus said sadly that he had no mother or brothers other than his disciples who did believe him and were trying to do the will of God (Matt. 12:46-50).

After these various encounters, Jesus speaks to the crowds in parables, that is, in stories designed to set forth principles and truths. His parables deal entirely with the kingdom of heaven. There are here recorded seven of them. The first is about a sower who sows seed in various types of soil. The birds ate some of the seed. The rocky soil did not provide enough moisture for some plants, and they withered in the sun. The thorns choked other plants as they grew. But some seed fell on good soil and yielded a good crop (Matt. 13:3-9). Jesus explains the meaning of the parable to the disciples. Some people are too superficial to understand the word and, as its meaning eludes them they forget what they heard just after the message has been given to them. The birds are the evil one (the devil) who snatches the gospel from them. The seed on thorny ground represents those people who rejoice when they first hear the Gospel but accept it only to lose faith when tribulation arises. The thorns represent the pleasures of this life which stifle the Gospel. The meaning of the good yield is obvious (Mart. 13: 18-23).

The second is the parable of the weeds which grow up with the plants. They cannot be removed until after harvest when they are burned. The wicked therefore will be separated from the good at the judgment (Matt. 13:24-30). The third is the parable of the mustard seed, the tiniest of all seeds, which grows up into a large tree (Matt. 13:31-32). That is the way the kingdom of heaven is. It starts off small and inconsequential, only in the end to be so large that it controls everything. Like leaven in dough, it lifts society to a higher level (Matt. 13:33). This is the fourth parable. The fifth and sixth parables, about the tares in the field and the priceless pearl, which a man sells all that he has to purchase and own, illustrate the inestimable value of the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 13:44-46). The seventh parable, of the net and the fishes (Matt. 13:47-50), is like that of the weeds and the wheat. It shows that the good and bad exist side by side, the hypocrites with the righteous, but God will separate the one from the other in the end.

Jesus tells these stories to the crowds, but they do not understand them. He explains them to his disciples. Sadly he admits that the crowds in and around Galilee will not accept him and will not heed his message. Seemingly a prophet is without honor in that person's own country (Matt. 13:53-58).

2 . . Mighty Acts of Mercy (Matt. 14:1-16:12) In spite of the recalcitrance of the Jews, especially their leaders, Jesus continues to minister to human need wherever he finds it, and the crowds respond to his mercy and kindness. The compassion of Jesus is inexhaustible, but Matthew says explicitly that Jesus "had compassion" only four times in his Gospel: (1) when he saw the crowds who were disorganized and helpless, "as sheep having no shepherd" (Matt. 9:36; (2) when he fed first the five thousand after healing their sick (Matt. 14:14) and (3) later the four thousand (Matt. 15:32); and (4) when he gave sight to the two blind men at Jericho (Matt. 20:34).

The news of John the Baptist's death at the hands of Herod Antipas, which Matthew treats almost incidentally (Mart. 14:1-12) in contrast to Mark's detailed account (Mark 6:14-30), causes Jesus to withdraw to a desert place. However, the news of Jesus' successes alarms Herod, for he had thought that only John the Baptist could do these mighty deeds, and so Jesus must be John the Baptist come to life again. Matthew correctly designates Herod as tetrarch, the ruler for Rome of only a small district. He was not a king like his father Herod the Great who ruled over the whole country, but people persisted in calling him king as they had his father. Herod was king to the people who were his subjects but not to the Romans whose subject he was.

The people followed Jesus to the desert place, and he ministered to their needs by curing those who were sick. At eventide the disciples wanted to dismiss the people, so that they could go back to the villages for food. But Jesus said that was unnecessary. He would feed them. He took five loaves of bread and two fish, which they had on hand, multiplied them, and fed the whole lot. Matthew says there were five thousand men in addition to the women and children, whom he does not number. This means we do not know how many were really fed, for surely the women and children ate the loaves and fish just as the men did. The significance of the story lies in what was left over. The remains of the meal filled twelve baskets. There were twelve tribes of Israel, a basket for each tribe. The food of the Gospel is for the Jews, and it is sufficient to satisfy their needs entirely. As Moses kept the children of Israel alive on manna in the wilderness, so Jesus is prepared to feed them now with bread from heaven which will provide them with strength, body and soul, for everlasting life (Matt. 14:13-21).

Jesus dismissed both the crowds and the disciples, whom he told to take a boat and cross back over the Sea of Galilee while he remained alone to pray. This is an interesting point. Here and later in the Garden of Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36-45) are the only two instances in the whole of Matthew's Gospel where Jesus is shown in the act of prayer. A storm arose. The disciples were in the boat alone. They were in danger. So Jesus walked to them across the water as if it had been dry land. Peter saw Jesus coming and called to him and asked permission and power to come and meet him on the water. In the process of doing so, Peter became frightened and began to sink. Jesus rebuked him for his lack of faith. "O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" (Matt. 14:31). The phrase "of little faith" is peculiar to Matthew. We use it now frequently. It is Matthew's contribution to the language of Christendom. As a result of this miracle, the disciples in the boat worshiped Jesus, saying to him: "Of a truth thou art the Son of God" (Matt. 14:33). Matthew uses this incident to emphasize his theme: the kingship of Christ.

The crowds around Gennesaret sought just to touch his garments, believing that this contact with Jesus would be sufficient to heal their diseases (Matt. 14:34-36). The scribes and Pharisees thought otherwise. They accused the disciples of transgressing oral tradition by failing to wash their hands before a meal. Jesus was outraged at their criticism. The disciples' fault was minor compared to their transgression of the sixth commandment. Moses had commanded them to honor their parents, but they used the so-called "tradition of the elders" to evade the commandment. They put their estates in trust to the Temple. They could use the revenue from this trust themselves, but nobody else could benefit from it. Therefore, they used the law to free themselves from the Mosaic obligation to care for their parents. "Thus have ye made the commandment of God of none effect by your tradition. Ye hypocrites" (Mart. 15:6-7). Once again Matthew calls attention to a prophecy of Isaiah by indicating that Jesus quoted Isaiah 29:13 in his rebuke to the scribes and Pharisees.

The real cause of defilement is not what we take into our mouths but rather what comes out of our mouths, for the words we speak reflect our thoughts and the purpose of our hearts. Murder, adultery, theft, and slander are all acts and expressions of the inner disposition of the heart. Note that these all follow the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth commandments of Moses. Peter asks for an explanation, which prompts Jesus to be so explicit. Before explaining, however, he shows disgust with Peter. "Haven't you got any sense?" he said. "You donor seem to have one grain of intelligence, Peter."

At this juncture Matthew records the healing of the daughter of the Canaanite woman. The disciples want to send her away, and even Jesus tells her that his mission is limited to the Jews. But when she is so humble as to say that even dogs are fed scraps from their master's table, Jesus cannot deny her. He tells her to go home, for her daughter is already well (Matt. 15:21-28). The power of Christ is for the Gentiles as well as the Jews.

On the shores of the Sea of Galilee the lame, the maimed, the blind, the dumb, and many other diseased people are healed by Jesus (Matt. 15:29-31). This time the crowds bringing all their sick people number four thousand men exclusive of women and children. People today must wonder about the male chauvinism of Matthew. Here for the second time he does not count the women and children. In this regard he was typical of the time in which he lived. Jewish society has always been patriarchal, and Matthew leans heavily on the ideas and practices of the Old Testament.

Some think that the feeding of the four thousand was the feeding of the Gentiles -- that the large crowd consisted of Gentiles, not Jews, as in the case of the five thousand. Therefore they say that the seven baskets of food left over represent the seventy gentile nations, and that the four thousand people symbolize the four winds of heaven and the four corners of the earth. All this is allegorizing. There is nothing explicitly stated in Matthew's text to warrant such a fanciful interpretation (Matt. 15:32-39).

Once again Jesus refuses to give a sign to the Pharisees and Sadducees of the authenticity of his mission, telling them that they are skillful enough in reading the sky to predict the weather, but they are blind to spiritual reality and the meaning of his own authority (Mart. 16:1-4). The sign Jesus gives is that of the prophet Jonah. This means that as Jonah was in the belly of the fish for three days, so the Messiah will be in the tomb three days. The sign is Jesus' resurrection.

Jesus cautions the disciples to beware of the teaching of Pharisees and Sadducees, which he calls leaven. They fix on that word and mistakenly assume that he is criticizing them for not taking food with them as they once again cross over the Sea of Galilee with Jesus. He is disgusted with them. He could not possibly need food. If he could feed four thousand people as he had just done, he could readily feed twelve and himself. They have focused on material needs. He is warning them against spiritual misunderstanding (Matt. 16:5-12). The leaven of bread is quite different from the leaven of theology. Though Jesus uses leaven in one of his parables in a good sense (Matt. 13:33), it is used here and elsewhere in the New Testament to mean something evil.

3. Preparation for the Establishment of the Church (16:13 - 18:35) Technically speaking, Jesus did not establish the church. He lived his life under the ceremonies of the Temple and prayed and taught in the synagogues of Israel. The church did not come into existence until after his death, resurrection, and ascension. The birthday of the church is Pentecost.

However, Jesus conceived the church. He formulated the principles for its operation. His life was its example. His death was the means of the church's forgiveness of sin. His resurrection was its power of new life and the promise of life in the presence of God forever in the world to come. The church was to be the new Israel. It was to be the embodiment of the kingdom of heaven. Jesus was both the cause of and impetus for the church.

In this section of Matthew we receive from Jesus the blueprints for the building of the church. The divine architect himself gives the plan. Here for the first time the word church is used. Literally it means congregation. It is the assembly of the people of God, the followers of Jesus, the representatives of the kingdom of heaven on earth.

The confession of Peter provides the church with its theology. Peter tells Jesus who he is. "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Matt. 16:16). This is the first confession of the Christian church. To the Christian, Jesus is God in human form. Jesus not only represents God, he is God. We need not, indeed cannot, go beyond Jesus in our understanding of the divine nature and our apprehension of the divine mind and will.

Christ, meaning messiah or anointed one, is technically the title of an office or position, the designation of the person who holds that office and fulfills that position. The word Christ becomes a name, for in Jesus person and office are inextricably one. In the Old Testament we see the change of the name of a person taking place in keeping with a change in that person's work and mission. For example, Abram, which means revered father, became Abraham, father of a multitude (Gen. 17:5); and Jacob became Israel a name his progeny keep even to the present day. So Jesus the Christ, the messiah, the king becomes Jesus Christ, for Jesus of Nazareth is the only messiah there ever was or ever will be, and to the Christian he is king forever and ever.

Likewise, he who makes the confession has his name changed from Simon, the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew Simeon, to Peter, which means rock. This man, representing the apostolate, is the foundation of the church. His name always and invariably stands at the top of the list of all the apostles. Indeed, from the very beginning he was the Prince of the Apostles. The apostolate is the heart and soul of the corporate body of the church. It is to become the governing instrument of the church. It is to be the teaching authority, the ruling power, and the pastoral directive of the future church. In some Christian traditions, the episcopacy is considered to be a continuation in history of the apostolate with the bishops regarded as successors of the apostles. In other traditions, the continuation of the apostolate is more diffused among the corporate body of Christians.

The power to bind and loose was given to Peter and to his fellow apostles. This means that the church is commissioned through its organization to forgive sin in the name of Jesus and by God's grace to make believers fit for the kingdom of heaven. The clergy have in this regard a special and peculiar privilege, for in the performance of this office they represent Christ; but at the same time they have an awesome responsibility. When the church is faithful to Christ, the church is indefectible, even infallible. Hell itself cannot prevail against the church, for the church belongs, body and soul, to Jesus Christ. That institution becomes the continuation of his incarnation throughout all history (Matt. 16:13-19).

Peter, who speaks for Christ, indeed for God, in his confession, speaks for his fellow apostles immediately thereafter. In doing so, both he and they make a serious mistake. Just after Peter's confession, Jesus tells the disciples for the first time of his passion and death. They do not understand this. They associate the Messiah with power, triumph, victory. It is inconceivable to them that the Messiah should have any relationship whatever with weakness and defeat. So Peter asks Jesus to step aside. Privately he tells him to correct what he has just said. People will misinterpret it. It will injure his work. Jesus' response to Peter is primarily the same as was his response to the devil at the end of the temptations. He calls Peter the devil, and tells Peter to get behind him. His rebuke is severe. Jesus tells Peter that he is an embarrassment to him and a hindrance to his work (Matt. 16:21-23).

Then Jesus explains the pattern of true discipleship and predicts what may happen to those who follow him all the way. Just as he will be persecuted and killed, the same fate will be theirs as well. Only people who are willing to abandon everything, even life itself, for God will discover what true life is all about. In contrast, those who work for secular reward will in the end lose everything. 'Those who follow Jesus will never really experience death at all, for the abundant life is unending in the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 16:24-28).

The next great event after the confession of Peter in the preparation for the establishment of the church is the Transfiguration of Jesus. We do not really know where it took place. We know that it was atop a mountain. Matthew locates the place of the confession of Peter. He tells us it was just outside Caesarea Philippi. This was a pagan city not far from Mount Hermon at the headwater of the Jordan River. Its earlier name had been Paneas, for it houses shrines of the god Pan. Titus came there to give thanks to his Roman gods for the conquest of Judea. Perhaps then Mount Hermon was the site of the Transfiguration, though Mount Tabor near Tiberias is the traditional place.

Only Jesus' intimates -- Peter, James, and John -- went with him to the top of the mountain. They saw him transfigured, his garments white as snow and his face aglow with the presence of God. Moses and Elijah met him there; and on that mountain with Jesus this world had juncture with the world to come.

Moses and Elijah are two of the greatest character in the Old Testament. Neither died in the presence of his people. God took the life of Moses while he was alone with God on top of Mount Nebo, and angels buried his body so that to this day the site of his grave is unknown. Elijah, in the sight of his successor Elijah, was carried to heaven in a chariot of fire. These two great prophets from the Old Testament came to testify to Jesus and to relate their covenant to his.

Peter and the other two disciples, representatives of this world, see it all, and Peter wants to build three tabernacles, one for Jesus and one for Moses and one for Elijah. God spoke as he spoke at Jesus' baptism: "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." As they descend from the mountain, Jesus cautionshis disciples to keep silent about what they have seen until after the Resurrection (Matt.17:1-13).

The Old Testament had predicted that Elijah would come back to earth to prepare the way for the Messiah. "Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse" (Mal. 4:5-6). These are the words the angel uses to Zechariah regarding the birth of his son, John the Baptist (Luke 1:17). Jesus told the disciples that Elijah had already come, and they were correct in their assumption that he meant John the Baptist (Matt.17:12-13).

The Transfiguration confirms the confession of Peter. It validates and seals the theology of Christianity as being primarily Christology. Everything Christianity purports to do and all the good the church is to perform will be in the name and in the spirit of Jesus Christ.

The disciples who remained in the valley have been unable to cure a boy victimized by epilepsy. They still lack the confidence to fulfill their mission. This will be the fate of the church too, if and when that institution tries to do anything independently of Jesus and alien to the mission Jesus has given to the church (Matt. 17:14-20). Only through Jesus is the church fully the church. Trust in God is like the grain of mustard seed. Though ever so small, it is great enough to remove a mountain. The disciples had been unable to do what needed to be done because they had too little faith.

Jesus again distresses the disciples by repeating the prediction of his impending death (Matt. 17:22-23). He tells Peter to pay the temple tax for himself and Jesus, though really if the authorities understood who he was, they would not tax Jesus just as a prince is not taxed because he is the son of the king (Matt. 17:24-27).

Chapter eighteen gives us a concrete picture of Jesus' expectations regarding the attitude and behavior of Christians, requirements of his followers, and discipline for those who will constitute his church.

He uses a little child as an example of greatness in the kingdom of heaven: innocence, dependence, openness to guidance and instruction, no consciousness whatever of self- importance, willingness to be

reproved, always seeking an example for imitation, devotion, and love. The basic element in Christian greatness is humility. Jesus called a little child and stood the child before his followers. "Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven" Matt. 18:4).

The disposition of the follower of Jesus is to love little children, always seeking their welfare and happiness. Indeed, to do good to a little child is to do good to Jesus himself, while to cause injury or hurt to one is a moral and spiritual calamity, deserving the punishment of death itself. "It were better for lim that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea" Matt. 18:6).

Influence is powerful and pervasive. Everyone has influence. Good influences are blessings. Bad influences are curses. It is inevitable that some people will exert a bad influence. Damage to others will come because of them, because of their words and deeds, their examples, because of the evil they exert. Damnation will be their end. Therefore, carefully avoid injury to others. At the same time, carefully guard against any occasions for sinning. If a part of the human body causes a person to sin, it would be better for that person to lose that part of the body rather than commit sin. If the eye, for example, should Lead one to lust or become covetous, then it would be better to lose one's sight than to yield to unwholesome desire. "And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire" (Matt. 18:9).

Jesus again defines his mission in the world to seek and to save the lost and that will be the mission of the church after he has gone. Evangelism, though Jesus does not use that word nor does it as a word belong to the Gospel, is the supreme business of Christianity, namely, reclaiming the lost for God. Every person is precious in God's sight. Jesus is the good shepherd who will leave ninety-nine sheep safely in the fold and go out all night on the mountains to find one sheep that is lost. His followers cannot afford to do less. God rejoices over one reclaimed sinner more than over ninety-nine persons who need no reclamation (Mart. 18:11-13).

Jesus provides his followers with the prescription for handling mistreatment and injury at the hands of others. If a person in any way misuses a follower of Jesus, the injured person shall go quietly and privately to the offender and point out the grievance. If the offender does nothing about it and fails to provide a remedy for the offense, then the injured person is to go again with two or three witnesses. If the offender still does not provide satisfaction, the injured person is to take the issue publicly before the church. When the church renders a decision on the issue, the offender must comply with that decision or be expelled, treated as "an heathen man and a publican" (Matt. 18:17). Jesus repeats what he said earlier to Peter and this time confers the power of binding and loosing on the church itself. "Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" (Matt. 18:18). The church, in the plan of Jesus, is definitely his agency for salvation. Here Jesus clearly teaches that outside the church there is little hope for salvation.

Though the church as an institution possesses authority entrusted to it by Christ himself and is expected to exercise that authority, the individual person does not have such authority. For a person to attempt to exercise this authority is presumptuous and dangerous. Peter, for example, asks Jesus "How many times should I forgive another person for sinning against me, say, seven times?" That, after all, is a lot of sinning. Jesus says one must forgive another seventy times seven, that is, indefinitely, just so long as that person asks forgiveness.

At this point Jesus tells the story of the king who went over the accounts of his servants. One highly placed person owed the king ten thousand talents. When the servant could not pay, the king commanded that he, his wife, and his children be sold into slavery and that all his possessions be liquidated and applied to the debt. The man fell on his knees and begged for an extension of time. The king was moved by his pleas and forgave him his debt. He did not have to pay anything. But when this servant began to settle his own accounts, he found that a fellow servant owed him a hundred denarii. This servant also asked for an extension of time, but the man would not give it to him. Indeed, he put the fellow servant in prison until he could pay the debt. The other servants who knew that the king had relieved this highly placed person of his debt reported to the king what had happened.

A talent represented the highest form of currency in Jesus' day. It was a gold piece. Ten thousand talents was an inordinate amount of money, something like a million or more dollars today. It was a fortune. A denarius was one of the lowest forms of currency. The debt of the second servant was about like a dollar today. Yet this wicked man was willing to throw the other servant into jail for this paltry sum of money.

The king was indignant. He changed swiftly from mercy to judgment, from forgiveness to condemnation and punishment. He threw his highly placed servant who owed him so much into jail. "O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee?" (Matt. 18:32-33).

We cannot expect God to be merciful to us if we are unmerciful to others. Forgiveness comes from God only to those who forgive. "And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses" (Matt. 18:34~35).

The basic pattern of the church is delineated by Jesus in this portion of Matthew's Gospel. Both doctrine and discipline are explicitly set forth. Mercy and retribution, deliverance and destruction,

forgiveness and punishment all belong to the teachings of Jesus and therefore to the belief of his followers.

 

 Personal Reflection

1. Does it seem strange to you that John the Baptist doubted who Jesus was, even after baptizing him? Do you find it hard to admit your doubts when they occur? What tenets of your faith do you have questions about?

2. Using the parable of the sower, what concerns, preoccupations, or affections are most apt to choke off growth in your life?

3. Have you ever let your involvement with the church take you away from family responsibilities? How may rules be used to escape responsibility, as with the Jews who avoided caring for their parents? How does Peter's question about how many times to forgive-' 'Seven times seven?' '- show the same attitude?

4. How many of the Ten Commandments deal with observable actions and how many with attitudes? Which are easier to change? (Exod. 20)

5. Have you ever felt "without honor in your own country" in regard to your Christian witness? Is it hard for you to discuss your faith with those closest to you?

 

 

Chapter 2: The Teacher And His Pupils

First Matthew uses the testimony of God, through the virgin birth, the baptism, and the temptations, to establish the identity of Jesus.

Now Jesus offers his own testimony to those about him concerning the purpose of his mission and how it is to be accomplished. If he is the true king, then he must possess a kingdom and have subjects over whom to rule. His subjects constitute his kingdom, and they abide by his edicts and live according to his directives. Matthew portrays Jesus as the sublime teacher. Before the multitudes can be brought into the kingdom, however, the Master must teach his own disciples, who later will teach others and give organization to the kingdom of heaven here on earth. Matthew, in this section of his Gospel, portrays Jesus as he trains his disciples. He recounts both the content of Jesus' teaching and the method of its presentation.

1. The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5:1-7:29) Just as Moses received the Ten Commandments from the top of a high mountain, gives his gospel in a discourse on a mountain. Matthew is always eager to relate his account of Jesus to the Old Testament. He constantly draws parallels between the old dispensation and the new. The Jews are the children of the law. The followers of Jesus will be the recipients of the gospel. The Sermon on the Mount was delivered to the disciples. John Wesley says that in this instance the disciples not just the Twelve but all who desired to learn from him. Wesley's view is dubious. Since Jesus sat down on the mountainside, there must have been only a small group of people gathered around him to hear what he said. Probably it was only the Twelve.

The Sermon on the Mount, from the literary homiletical point of view, is a perfect document impossible to rearrange it in any way to improve on it. It contains only one hundred nine verses. A little more than half of these verses are peculiar Matthew's Gospel. They cannot be found anywhere else. The others are in Luke's as well, many in so-called Sermon on the Plain. Some modern scholars discount the fact that Jesus delivered the message as we have it and attribute the Sermon on the to Matthew's arrangement of Jesus' thoughts gleaned from many different occasions. But it is difficult to conceive of a perfect document such as this apart from an author who is perfection itself. To attribute it to Matthew is almost to make the disciple greater than his Master. No doubt Jesus did repeat his ideas under various circumstances. This is demonstrated in Luke's account where Jesus' many sayings in the Sermon on the Mount are preached in a different setting altogether. But repetitions like these do not preclude a full discourse such as the Sermon on the Mount, where the essence of the Master's teachings is set forth. The Sermon on the Mount is a gorgeous mosaic of the mind of Christ.

The sermon achieves its unity by means of an orderly transition from one section to the next, where each major division carries its special message but needs the others in order for the sermon to make its full impact. The discourse resembles a pyramid with a broad base of specificity. The picture of the two houses is the climax as well as the conclusion of the sermon.

The base of the sermon is the Beatitudes (Matt. 5:3-12), together with their enforcement in terms of Jesus' expectations of his disciples (Matt. 5:13-20). There are eight beatitudes. They have in common the characteristic of the unlikely and unexpected. How can one who is poor in spirit be happy? The opinion of society then, as now, might be that a person who is not motivated to acquire wealth is lazy. Added to this in Jesus' time was the religious interpretation that the good prospered, while the wicked suffered adversity. Not so, Jesus affirms. Those who possess the wealth of heaven cannot be encumbered with the material things of this world. The reward in the first beatitude is the same as that in the last, for those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake as well as the poor in spirit have heaven as their reward.

How do the meek possess the earth? By refusing to contend with others for it, they enjoy their lot in life to the extent that they believe they have everything Those who moan because of sorrow and pain and untoward circumstances receive divine comfort which more than compensates for anything that distresses them. Likewise, those who are righteous above everything else, who constantly pray for righteousness, will have their prayers answered. We become, Jesus says, what we most desire. The heart was to the Israelites of Jesus' day the center of understanding and the seat of the will. Therefore, if one's mind was clear of wicked thoughts and one's will anchored in the will of God, there would be no obstruction to spiritual vision. A person could not fail to see God. God loves peacemakers more than any other people; therefore, those who promote peace are called God's own children. What God calls anything, that something invariably is, because in God there is no distinction between appearance and reality.

Secular society has a different set of values. Therefore, Jesus tells his disciples that they shall be happy when society persecutes them, for such persecution only increases their rewards from God. He tells them they are like light, and they shine as examples of goodness to humankind. They are a preservative like salt. When people see genuinely good works, good deeds, they respond by acknowledging God whom those doing such good deeds worship and praise.

The Beatitudes are Jesus' transvaluation of all merely human values. They are the hallmarks of his kingdom. They are the basic characteristics of his subjects, of those who become true citizens of the kingdom of heaven, even though they continue to dwell on earth.

There is a decided contrast between the gospel of the kingdom of heaven and the law of the old dispensation (Matt. 5:21-48). The latter regulates behavior and conduct, while the former has to do with the riches of the mind, the feelings of the heart, and the disposition of the will. Consequently Moses forbade murder and manslaughter, while Jesus warns against anger out of which such misdeeds emerge. Moses outlawed adultery. Jesus will not even tolerate lust. He equates the inward craving with the external act. The Old Testament abounds in oaths and swearing, but Jesus says one's whole disposition shall be so oriented to honesty that swearing or taking an oath is unnecessary. A person's character is sufficient bond. Moses taught retaliation and retribution-"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life -- but Jesus teaches his disciples to practice nonresistance by enduring wrongs that others inflict on them rather than defending themselves against evildoers. Love in the kingdom of heaven reaches beyond affection for those who have affection for us. We must love even our enemies. Our standard is not goals we set for ourselves. Our standard is the perfection of God. "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect" (Mart. 5:48).

The only important requirement for a citizen of the kingdom of heaven is that the person please God. One's reward is inward and spiritual with no concern for the recognition and praise of others here on earth. The outward display of piety is distasteful, as it is also counterproductive. People who engage in such acts are insincere. The purpose of almsgiving is to help the unfortunate. It is not to let the general public know one’s worth and generosity. Giving a fifth of one's income to charity instead of the prescribed tenth should bring satisfaction in the greater good it does, not in the reputation it establishes. Both prayer and fasting which accompanies prayer are to be done in secret and not openly to advertise one's piety to the world. Only the treasures accumulated in heaven abide. No matter how extensive one's possessions, nor their guarantee by government, nothing is secure here, not even Social Security. Therefore, it does not pay to worry over gains and losses. It is enough to realize that God loves and cares for us. Trust in God is the only cure for anxiety.

The section of the Sermon on the Mount in which these teachings are set forth (Matt. 6:1-34) is among the noblest passages in all literature. The imagery of Jesus in this passage is exquisite. The Lord's Prayer (Matt. 6:9-13), as Matthew gives it, is the one we repeat collectively in our services of worship. The description of the fowls of the air, the lilies of the field, the grass which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven, and Solomon in all his glory, has etched itself forever on the memory of humanity in most of the languages of the world.

The last segment of the teachings in the Sermon on the Mount is a collection of admonitions (Matt. 7:1-23). Our Lord admonishes his disciples to refrain from judging others, censuring their deeds and

scrutinizing their attitudes and behavior in order to find fault with them. Such people are so busy criticizing others that they do not take time to observe their own faults, which generally are more grievous than the faults of those they condemn. Jesus also cautions his followers against assuming good of everyone and wasting their efforts on those who are too indifferent to appreciate them. Do not throw away the pearls of the gospel on a bunch of hogs who cannot recognize their value.

Jesus promises that what we ask of God is what God will give to us. God rewards in keeping with God's own character and is incapable of giving anything less than the best to us.

Everyone on this earthly pilgrimage is presented, sooner or later, with two ways: the easy way of indifference and self-indulgence which leads inevitably to death and destruction and the more difficult way of hard choices and self-denying experiences, the end of which is life. On the journey we will run into false teachings and dishonest advisors. These people must be tested by the effects of their work. Jesus does not want only verbal assent from his followers but a life of obedience where his disciples actually perform in deeds the will of God.

The sermon concludes with the foolish person who builds his house without foundations, and it collapses. In contrast, the wise man sets his house on a rock foundation which enables it to withstand all calamities.

Here before our eyes in the Sermon on the Mount is the picture of the kingdom of heaven, the means of entering it, the rigorous demands of maintaining one s citizenship in it, and the guarantee of its certain rewards.

2. Miracles Around the Sea of Galilee (Mat 8:1-9:38)-The three chapters in Matthew devote to the Sermon on the Mount are followed by two chapters describing the miracles of Jesus. These miracles were not, strictly speaking, all performed in Galilee. At least one was done in the Hellenized region of the Decapolis. We do not know precisely where either the centurion's house was or where the ruler lived, so Jesus may have performed a miracle in the Tetrarchy of Philip as well. But we can be certain that all these miracles took place around the Sea o Galilee, a small body of water only seven miles wide and twelve miles long. Unless the weather conditions are unfavorable, one can see all round it from most any vantage point along the shore. So when Jesus was on the mount with his disciples, he had perspective of all the places where he would perform these miracles.

Matthew, as we will see, alternates his Gospel between teaching and narrative, between the words of Jesus and his deeds. Indeed, Matthew has a little rubric for ending a section of Jesus' teachings and beginning a section of narrative. ''And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended these sayings. . .(Matt 7:28). It would appear, therefore, that Matthew intentionally uses the miracles to illustrate and enforce the teaching, and likewise uses the teaching to explain the miracles.

There are ten specific miracles in the two chapters of Matthew under consideration. These ten miracles are divided into three groups, and the groups are separated from one another by further narrative, but these interspersed bits of narrative present incidents that are not miraculous.

When Jesus first comes down from the mount, he is confronted by a leper who tells him that if he wants to, he can cure him of leprosy. Immediately Jesus replies, "I want to; so you are clean." He touches the leper and tells him to report to the priest and receive from him certification that he is entirely well. Leprosy, a skin disease, during the last stages of which members of the body rot away, was considered a communicable disease in ancient society. Lepers were forbidden to associate with other people. There was a stigma attached to the disease. The person was called "unclean." (Leprosy was looked on then the way our society looks on venereal disease.) It was a disgrace to have it. A leper could not mix again in society until a priest assured the public that the leper was ritually clean (Matt. 8:1-4).

In Capernaum Jesus received an appeal from a centurion to heal his servant. When Jesus volunteered to go with the centurion to see the sick servant, the centurion told him that would not be necessary. This Gentile did not want to contaminate Jesus by taking him into his home. "Just say the word," he said, "and I know my servant will be healed." Jesus was amazed and complimented him by saying that he, a Gentile, had more faith than any Jew Jesus knew (Matt. 8:5-13).

The third miracle in the first group is Jesus' curing of the mother-in-law of Peter, who had a persistent fever that would not break. He touched her as he had the leper, and she was cured. Indeed, she immediately resumed her household chores and entertained their guests.

Why do these three miracles form one group? They do not seem to have anything in common. They are put together, it seems to me, to show the catholicity of Jesus' work. He heals a Jew, a fellow countryman -- the leper. He heals a foreigner, a Roman, one who belonged to the nation which had subjugated and now ruled Jesus' land -- the centurion's servant. Finally Jesus heals a close personal friend -- the mother-in-law of his disciple, Peter. This was like curing a member of the family. Jesus no doubt stayed in the home of Simon Peter when he was in Capernaum (Matt. 8:14-17).

This first group of miracles is separated from the second group by two unusual incidents (Matt. 8:18-22). One is Jesus' discouragement of the scribe who wanted to follow him. He tells the scribe that he has no place to take him. Animals and birds have habitations, but Jesus has no home of his own, no place to lay his head. The other is the rebuke he administers to one of the disciples who gives what appears to us to be the most primary of all reasons to be excused temporarily from Jesus' company. He wants to go home to bury his father. Our Lord appears heartless. He does not excuse him. The miracles show the Master's dispersal of power in behalf of all types of people in need. He cures the incurable and does not limit his service just to his own. The two incidents show the expectations

of discipleship. The catholicity of Jesus' deeds is matched by the exactitude of his demands. A disciple must give up every-thing if he is to have Jesus for his Master. And anyone less than a fully committed disciple, such as the scribe, has no place in his company. Totality of power carries with it totality of obedience from those who will benefit from that power.

The second group of three miracles consists of the calming of the storm, the only nature miracle in this section; the expulsion of devils from two demented persons; and the healing of the paralytic. The storm was calmed for the disciples who were in the boat with Jesus and thought that he and they were about to drown (Matt. 8:23-27). In the second miracle, Jesus exorcised a company of demons residing in two helpless men. The demons had made the men so ferocious that travelers could not safely pass near them. Jesus destroys the demons. Matthew does not tell us anything more about the two men whom the demons controlled and misused. Presumably they got well (Matt. 8:28-34). Jesus performed the third miracle for the friends of the paralytic who carried him on a pallet into our Lord's presence. At the same time, he did it to display his ability to forgive sins. He tells the paralytic, to the horror of the scribes, "Thy sins be forgiven" (Matt. 9:1-8).

These three miracles are all of a class. What they have in common is the element of demonstration. Jesus, the man, demonstrates his divine power -- power to control nature, destroy evil, forgive sins, and relieve the ill effects of sin.

The narrative that follows is in support of these demonstrations (Matt. 9:9-17). Jesus calls a tax collector, a hated and despised publican who raises revenue for the Roman oppressors, and causes him to give up his job in order to be a disciple (Matt. 9:9). He eats with publicans and sinners because they need him. It is his disposition to be merciful. His mission is not to the righteous but to sinners whom he has come to save (Matt. 9:10-13). And finally he answers the disciples of John, saying that there is no need for his disciples to fast for there is nothing for them to fast over (Matt. 9:14-17). What they have fasted for and prayed for has now come about. The Messiah is their Master and Lord. The king resides in the presence of his subjects. God is at home with the people. The old order that John represents has passed away. A new order has taken its place.

The last group of miracles seems almost anticlimactic compared with this middle group. The last group is not followed by any specific incidents from the career of Jesus but only by a general observation. There are in this last group four miracles: the raising of the ruler's daughter from the dead, the healing of the woman with a continuous menstrual hemorrhage, the restoration of sight to two blind men, and the enabling of a dumb man to speak (Matt. 9:18-34). The very order of these miracles is on a descending scale. Matthew starts with the dead daughter to whom Jesus restores life and ends with the casting out of a little devil who had tied a man's tongue so he could not speak until the devil was removed. The last group is made to correspond with the first group, except in the first group each person cured came from a different category: fellow countryman, foreigner, friend. There are not any such categories in the last group. This group just represents all sorts and conditions of people. Therefore, the narrative that follows supports the same by saying that Jesus went about everywhere in the region teaching and preaching and healing all manner of disease. These four cures are typical examples of all the misery that flesh is heir to. But Jesus is capable of meeting any human demand; he can cope with any and all infirmities.

Now Jesus does all this in company with his disciples. He says that the needs of people are so great that there are not enough disciples to cope with these needs. "The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few" (Matt. 9:37).

3. The Formation of the Apostolate (Matt.1O:.1-42) Though Jesus has done a lot for many individuals through these ten miracles and though the general public has been greatly impressed by his wonderful works, everything that he has said and done around the Sea of Galilee has been in the presence of his disciples and, from Matthew's viewpoint, principally for their benefit. The Sermon on the Mount was preached to them. They, too, were spectators at all his miracles.

At this juncture Matthew makes clear that Jesus has been preparing his disciples for their mission in the world. By precept and example he has been developing them to do the work he has called them to do. The plenteous harvest, which heretofore has had too few laborers to pluck it, will soon have more than enough to gather its crops. The Master will not have to work alone. There will be other laborers to assist him.

Note carefully the chief characteristic of the newly formed apostolate. Jesus first gives his disciples power to cast out unclean spirits and to cure all types of sickness and disease. He does not mention here having given them the gifts either of preaching or of pastoral visitation, regardless of how important these seem to be to us. The first disciples are given by their Master the power to cure diseases and also the power to cope with sin. No matter how strong and vigorous a person is, without a transformed soul that person is little more than an animal.

Matthew is prepared only now to present the roster of the disciples. This roster contains the names of those who are later to constitute the apostolate and govern the church. At the head of the list is the name Simon called Peter. At the bottom of the list is Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Jesus.

Matthew's roster contains twelve names. Here again his Old Testament predilections are manifested. He is most careful to note this. There were twelve tribes in ancient Israel. There will be an apostle for every tribe. The new Israel of the church will be ruled by them and later by their successors.

This is the first time Matthew enters their names collectively in his Gospel, though he has already mentioned five of them. When Jesus begins his vocation, he calls Andrew and Peter first and shortly thereafter James and John (Matt. 4:18-22). The fifth disciple Matthew mentions prior to this complete list is not one of the greats. He is the publican Matthew, whom Jesus called from his seat at the receipt of custom (Matt. 9:9). If the two Matthews are one and the same person, it is obvious why this fifth disciple would have been named. Matthew just could not resist this allusion to himself and the circumstances that characterized his call.

When we get the list of the names of all the disciples, it is no more than a list. It does not provide us with any information about any of them, not even the so-called greats at the top of the list. The only one about whom Matthew gives any information beyond family identity and vocation is the one whose name is last on the list, and the information given about him is such that he should not have been a disciple at all. Matthew says that Judas Iscariot is the disciple who betrayed Jesus.

More important than who the disciples were is what the disciples became. The means of their becoming, what enabled them to be what they later were, is the content of this section of Matthew.

Jesus at first delimited their mission. They were to work only as Israelites. Evidently our Lord wanted to be sure they could succeed at home before he was willing to risk sending them abroad. A person who tries to function at the general church level when that person is not influential in his or her local congregation has very little to commend him or her to anybody. Many people feel that a person who is not respected at home does not deserve a heating abroad.

At this point the apostles are admonished to preach, and their theme is that the kingdom of God is at hand. Consequently, their message is one of urgency. The demonstration they give of its authenticity and validity as well as of their own credibility is that in preaching they at the same time "heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils'' (Mart. 10:8). As they have received their call and its gifts without compensation, so they will give what they have to others without price. All they are to expect is hospitality: housing, food, raiment from time to time, and, above all else, receptive minds and hearts from those to whom they minister. When they do not get this, they are to leave immediately, and God will condemn all who do not receive and heed them. Judgment and punishment are emphasized here. Those who are inhospitable to a minister of Jesus Christ and indifferent to Christ's message jeopardize their own salvation and imperil their own souls.

Nonetheless, people do not know what is conducive to their own welfare, and the prospects for the apostles in the hands of those to whom they are sent are not the best. The chances are that they will be mistreated, maligned, persecuted, misunderstood, and condemned. Feuds will break out within families. Siblings will be against siblings, parents against children, and children against parents even to the point of death. The apostles will be hated simply because they are apostles. All this evil will befall them simply because of their allegiance to Jesus. But if they can stand such abuse and remain loyal through out it all, they will be saved. When they are rejected in one place, they must hasten to another. Their consolation lies in the fact that this cannot last too long, for the Son of man will soon return. Matthew quotes Jesus as saying: "Ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the Son of man be come" (Matt. 10:23). The nearness of Jesus and the effectiveness of his presence are more than enough to offset the most adverse of all conditions.

The disciples must realize that they cannot expect better treatment than their Master received. A servant has no right to more than his lord. Jesus warns that if society has labeled him the prince of devils, those who belong to him cannot expect any higher label for themselves.

The worst enemies of the apostles are not those who declare themselves to be enemies. The worst enemy of the apostles is fear. It is only natural for them to fear those who hurt them. But there is a limit to any damage a mere human can inflict on another human. If one goes so far as to take a human life, even then that person has not taken everything from the person who has been killed. One person cannot take another person's immortal soul. Jesus says: "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell" (Matt. 10:28). The most important thing in life is for a person to acknowledge Jesus. If a person does, Jesus will acknowledge that person before his Father n heaven. But if a person denies him, Jesus will deny that person before his Father in heaven. Fear is relative. Our real concern should be our relationship with God rather than fearing mortals who are bent on inflicting evil.

The very nature of Christianity is divisive. The claims of the Gospel are total; there can be no compromise. There is no way to divide loyalty between Christ and another. The ones who accept Jesus within a family will by that act be set at odds with those who do not accept him. Jesus will tolerate no loyalty above loyalty to him. "He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." (Mart. 10:37).

The prediction Jesus makes here that a person's enemies "shall be they of his own household" (Matt. 10:36) was literally fulfilled time and time again in the days of the early church. Take the family of Augustine, for example; his mother was a devout Christian, but his father was originally a pagan. Roman slaves became Christian. Some slaves were en-trusted as nurses in pagan families. Often they won the children to Christ. The children would then try to win their fathers to Christ, but not always with success. "For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law" (Matt 10:35).

The cross is the emblem of Christianity because sooner or later every Christian has to bear it. The glory of discipleship is that the person who receives the disciple and the message at the same time receives the disciple's Master and Lord.



Personal Reflection

 1. Many people in Jesus' day believed that the good prospered while the wicked suffered adversity. Do good things happen only to good people and bad things happen only to bad people?

2. Why is it hard to feel good about being poor in spirit or even being called poor in spirit? What character traits that are valued in our culture (for instance, the qualities that make a good executive) work at cross purposes to being poor in spirit?

3. Does being meek mean refusing to contend with others? Did Jesus refuse to confront and oppose others?

4. Matthew reports Jesus' teachings and miracles as schooling to prepare the disciples for their own ministries. Look back on your own life and name three or four things that you now see as preparation for your life today.

5 Why was the decision to follow Christ divisive in Jesus' time? Is it still divisive? Is that good or bad?

 

Chapter 1: The Promised King

Chapters, sections, and paragraphs, such as our Bibles display, were unknown in antiquity; so that the divisions we make within the Gospels are artificial. They are ours, not the authors.

Matthew uses the first few pages of his Gospel, which have been designated as the first four chapters, to introduce Jesus to the readers of his Gospel. Matthew wants us to know at the outset who Jesus is and why he is writing a book about him.

1.Ancestry (Matt. 1:1-17) What better way to introduce a person than to describe that person’s ancestry! Matthew, in keeping with the messianic theme of his Gospel, traces the ancestry of Jesus back to King David and also back to Abraham. The Messiah in Old Testament prophecy would come from the line, or lineage, of David. But before David, God had promised that from the seed of Abraham all the nations of the earth would be blessed. So Matthew opens his Gospel with the statement: "The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham" (Matt. 1:1). This is an echo of what God said to David:

And it shall come to pass, when thy days be expired that thou must go to be with thy fathers, that I will raise up thy seed after thee, which shall be of thy sons; and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build me an house, and I will stablish his throne for ever. I will be his father, and he shall be my son: and I will not take my mercy away from him, as I took it from him that was before thee: But I will settle him in mine house and in my kingdom for ever: and his throne shall be established for evermore. 1 Chronicles 17:11-14

This refers to Solomon and Solomon's successors. But the proof of its truthfulness had to await the coming of Jesus.

Luke traces the ancestry of Jesus back to Adam. That is because he wrote especially for the Gentiles and presented Jesus to them as the universal man. But Matthew felt it was enough when the genealogy of Jesus reached Abraham, for he sincerely believed that salvation for everybody would come only through the Jews. They were God's chosen people. God did not choose them just to favor them and bestow all benefits upon them. He chose the Jews to prepare and use them for the benefit of all others. "That in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice" (Gen. 22:17-18).

The nation faltered and fell. The earthly successors to David and Solomon on the throne of Judah were no more. Nonetheless, the work of God had not been invalidated, nor God's promise forfeited. The Messiah had come. He was of the race of Abraham and of the family of David.

 For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this. Isaiah 9:6-7

 Matthew divides the genealogy of Jesus into three historical eras consisting of fourteen generations apiece. The first era is from Abraham to David, the second from David to the captivity of Judah and the exile of the Jews in Babylon, and the third from the captivity to the birth of Jesus. Each of these three eras has special significance. The first is a period of formation: the development of a small clan into a large society of people; the unification of disparate tribes into a nation; migration in and out of slavery, through the wilderness, and into the land of promise. The second is a period of fulfillment and deterioration: the grandeur of David and the glory of Solomon, followed by deterioration and decline under their successors. The third is a period of patience, long-suffering, and expectancy: the captivity and exile, the return and temporary restoration of the nation, and subjugation by Rome.

Within these periods there are three arresting pieces of information. Matthew does not mention the wife of Abraham, the mother of Isaac. Nor does he include the wife of Jesse, the mother of David, or give the wife of Josiah, the mother of Josiah's son who was king when Jerusalem fell. He omits the names of the women throughout the whole genealogy before Joseph and Mary except for three persons. He says that the mother of Pharez and Zarah was Tamar and their father was Judah, and he calls our attention to the fact that the mother of Boaz was Rahab and that Ruth was the wife of Boaz and the mother of Obed, who was the grandfather of David. Why are these three women included when all the others are not?

Tamar was Judah's daughter-in-law. Her husband had died. The younger brother of her husband failed to honor his obligation to take her as his wife and rear children in honor of the deceased. So Tamar disguised herself as a harlot and tricked her father-in-law into committing adultery with her, and the offspring of this act of adultery were twins, Pharez and Zarah (Gen. 38:6-30). Salmon's wife who bore his son Boaz was Rahab, the harlot of Jericho, who concealed and protected the Israelite spies (Josh. 2; 6:22-27). And Ruth was not Jewish. She was a Moabitess, a foreigner, a woman from a despised enemy of Israel (Ruth 1:4).

There are skeletons in the closet of every family, no matter how respectable. But Matthew insures an accurate record. There was an act of incest and adultery in the ancestry of Jesus. One of the progenitors of the Savior was a prostitute. And the blood of the Messiah was not pure Jewish blood but had mingled with it the blood of an alien people.

This draws our attention to the inclusiveness of the genealogy of Jesus. He belongs to the Gentile as well as the Jew. Even the sinner can identify with the ancestry of Christ. Here at the outset of the career of Jesus we are made to realize the strange and unpredictable providence of God.

But then, after Matthew has gone to such pains to lay out this complicated genealogy, we find it is not that of Jesus after all. It is the genealogy of Joseph, who was only the stepfather of Jesus. The Davidic ancestry is lent to him, because he is the adopted son of Joseph. Mary had conceived her son before her marriage to Joseph took place. To be sure, in the eyes of the general public, he was Joseph's son, and Joseph looked on him and treated him as his own boy. But this in itself would not have been enough to confer Davidic sonship on him, nor would it have thrown on his shoulders the true messianic mantle. Matthew would not have bothered to supply his readers with the family tree unless it had been Jesus' true and authentic lineage.

Matthew knew that Mary, like Joseph, was of the house of David. The two came out of the same family and remained within that large family through marriage. This was not unusual in Jewish society in Bible times. Moses' parents, for example, came from the same family. "And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi" (Exod. 2:1). Zechariah realized Mary's Davidic origins when he said: "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; for he hath visited and redeemed his people, And hath raised up an horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David; as he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, which have been since the world began" (Luke 1:68-70). Though it is not explicitly stated in the New Testament that Mary's ancestry is Davidic, this has been the tradition of the church since its inception; and this is the only way satisfactorily to explain the genealogies in Matthew and Luke who both report the virgin birth of Jesus.

2. Birth and Childhood (Matt. 1:18-2:23) Only two persons had to know of the virgin birth of Jesus, the mother who bore him and the alleged father who realized the child was not his. Indeed, Mary alone might have known the exact circumstances surrounding the event, and her husband could have misunderstood what had taken place. As a matter of fact, this was about to happen when God intervened in a dream and told Joseph that his pregnant fiancee was still a virgin and that the embryo in her womb had been miraculously conceived.

Betrothal in those days was different from an engagement today. Back then it gave the man extensive rights over and privileges with the woman he planned to marry but left the woman altogether dependent upon the honor and faithfulness of her affianced. If he decided she was unsuited for him, he could nullify the betrothal simply by telling her in the presence of two witnesses. If his fiancee had illicit relations with another man after her betrothal to him, the Mosaic law was that she should be sentenced to death, together with the guilty male (Deut. 22:23-24). Evidently the betrothed couple could have sexual relations with one another. Therefore, had Joseph broken his engagement to Mary without making a public issue of it, people would have assumed that her child was Joseph's. She would have been disgraced but not physically harmed.

Luke tells the story of the conception of Jesus from Mary's point of view, but we are indebted to Matthew for the same account from the perspective of Joseph.

We think of the name Jesus as unique. It was not in that time. Its Hebrew equivalent is Joshua, which is still quite frequently used. The meaning of the word in Hebrew is "God is salvation." Jesus will save his people from their sins. Here in Joseph's dream, Jesus is given his name -- a name with a mission to and in behalf of the people. Immediately Matthew attaches the messianic people to their Messiah. In his thinking, the two are inseparable. The uniqueness today of the name Jesus is as a result of his mission. We seldom name a person Jesus, because only Jesus of Nazareth is able to save us from our sins.

At this point Matthew uses his rubric to introduce a quotation from the Old Testament, which he amplifies a bit by explaining what the name Emmanuel means (Matt. 1:23; Isa. 7:14). In Jesus, God will be with the people, for Emmanuel means "God with us." Oddly enough, the word also means "prosperity." If God is with us, we will always be prosperous, not necessarily in material goods, but rather in the spiritual satisfaction of being with God. Then we will be rich indeed.

Matthew gives us information about the birth of Jesus not given by Luke, just as Luke supplies us with details not found in Matthew's Gospel. The two Gospels complement and supplement one another. Matthew tells of the Wise Men from the East who were led to Judea by the light of a wandering star. They came to Herod in Jerusalem and asked him about the habitation of the newborn king. Herod's Sanhedrin gave them the probable place of birth by consulting the Old Testament and finding a prophecy which designated Bethlehem as the birthplace of the Messiah (Mic. 5:2). Herod pretended to be pleased. He sent them ahead but told them to come back for him when they had found the babe. Herod lied, saying that he, too, wanted to worship the Messiah.

The Wise Men followed a star, which means they were astrologers and had received guidance by divining the heavens. Hebrew thought was divided concerning the value of astrology. Some rabbis accepted it as a gift from God. Others condemned it as necromancy and witchcraft. There are the signs of the zodiac in the mosaic floors of some synagogues, though those are later than the first century. More important than their being astrologers is the fact that the Wise Men were Gentiles. In them, people beyond Jewry paid tribute to Jesus. They were rich and powerful, too, which means that Jesus came not to the poor only but to all people, no matter what their class or station might have been. To delimit the work of Jesus to one class or group is to restrict God's mission of salvation.

Herod was in the last year of his reign, and his life was fast coming to a close. His body was ravaged with disease. Indeed, he was infested with worms which were eating away his flesh. Yet his pride had not waned, and he was maniacally jealous and hungry for power to the end. Herod knew he was hated by the people, so he decreed that members of the Sanhedrin be slain when he died in order to guarantee mourning at his funeral. His sister mercifully lied, saying he had countermanded this order on his deathbed, and so spared the religious leaders of the nation. But there was mourning aplenty anyway, for just before his death Herod had slain all the male children of Bethlehem two years old and younger in an effort to kill the little Messiah whose identity the Wise Men had withheld from him. Fortunately Joseph and Mary had already fled with Jesus into Egypt.

If the Wise Men and shepherds had come to Bethlehem at the same time, there would be a conflict in the accounts of Matthew and Luke. Luke says that Jesus was taken to Jerusalem to be circumcised eight days after he was born. But if we allow time for the Wise Men to get from the East to Bethlehem, there is no conflict. Thus Christmas is the day of the shepherds, and Epiphany is the day of the Wise Men.

The holy family stayed in Egypt until Herod was dead. They did not go back to Judea but returned to Nazareth. Herod's murder of the children in Bethlehem reminds Matthew of a prophecy from Jeremiah when Rachel, who is buried near Bethlehem, weeps for her children jet. 31:15). Matthew thinks of Jesus as a second Moses, who will add his new teachings to the Mosaic law, making him a second but greater lawgiver. Therefore, it is appropriate that Jesus should, like Moses, come up out of Egypt. This also is fulfillment of prophecy (Hos. 11:1).

3. Baptism (Matt. 3:1-17)-For Matthew, John the Baptist is the equivalent in the New Testament of the prophet Elijah in the Old Testament. Elijah preached the wrath of God. He condemned Ahab and Ahab's subjects in the Northern Kingdom for their apostasy and their sins. They worshiped Baal, a Canaanite god of fertility, caring more for their crops and the yield of their fields than for righteousness and the service of God (1 Kings 16:29-22:38).

The Pharisees and Sadducees cared more for their ancestry and tradition than they did for the people. They were like vipers to John, who refused to baptize them. He baptized those who were genuinely sorry for their sins and wished to do better. In his appearance, his habits, even his diet, he imitated Elijah. He fulfilled Isaiah's prophecy of a voice crying in the wilderness on behalf of God and God's righteousness (Isa. 40:3). His influence over Judea was considerable, so great in fact that he embarrassed Herod Antipas and his corrupt court.

But John's importance to Matthew was that he heralded the coming of the Messiah and that he was the authentic forerunner of Jesus. John is the first to use the phrase "kingdom of heaven," so frequently on the lips of Jesus, and his assurance that the kingdom is at hand provides Matthew with his first opportunity to use that phrase.

Jesus accepted baptism of John in the River Jordan, not that he needed it as a sign of his own repentance for sin, but only to conform to the providential pattern. The children of Israel had experienced the baptism of deliverance along with adversity when they had come out of slavery in Egypt and crossed the Red Sea into the wilderness. The Apostle Paul says that they "were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea" (1 Cor. 10:2). So Jesus was baptized of John and signified thereby his fulfillment of the old dispensation and inauguration of the new, though it meant for him also the experience of alienation and death on the cross.

Matthew says the heavens were opened, the Holy Spirit descended in the form of a dove and lighted on Jesus, and a voice from heaven said, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased"(Matt. 3:17). Was this an event observed by John and those with him? Was this a public announcement of Jesus' mission? Such could hardly have been the case, since Matthew is careful to remark that the heavens were opened unto Jesus, who saw the spirit of God descending. What is seen by him is also confirmed by what he heard. What does this mean?

In my opinion it means that the kingdom of God, which Matthew usually calls the kingdom of heaven, can now through Jesus be seen on earth, for this will be the central concern of Jesus' ministry. The spirit of God that moved upon the face of the waters in creation (Gen. 1:2) now lights on Jesus to signify that Jesus will by his life and work effect the new creation. "Therefore," says Paul, "if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new" (2 Cor. 5.17).

4. Temptations (Matt. 4:1-11)-Even the Son of God had to be tempted. Matthew is careful to point out that God himself led his Son into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. The apprentice is not the master, but neither does anyone ever become a master until as an apprentice he has learned the master's art. Aristotle was a pupil of Plato before he became a teacher with pupils of his own. According to William Wordsworth, "The child is father of the man, which is to say that a grown person has no more at his disposal than what he has acquired in the process of growing up. Like Ulysses, we are a part of all that we have met.

Jesus met the devil, and because he did he knew how to cope with him and how to instruct his disciples to do the same. Goodness is not synonymous with innocence. Goodness, if it is genuine and enduring, comes only after a struggle with evil.

The first temptation had to do with physical and material needs. Jesus had fasted forty days and nights and was depleted and hungry. The devil said, "If you are who people say you are, then your present state should present no problem to you. If you really are the Son of God, then make bread out of these stones" (Matt. 4:3, AP). Jesus answered the devil with a quotation of Moses: "And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know; that he might make thee know that man doth not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live" (Deut. 8:3). This shows the inadequacy of material things. The acquisition of goods and the purchase of services, self-indulgence, personal opulence and ease are not consistent with being human. We were created not to please ourselves, but to please God. And knowledge of God and God's will for us is more important than what we can get for ourselves from material things. Jesus would not misuse his divine powers for purely personal ends. He would not employ a miracle to get what he could earn from hard work.

The second temptation had to do with reputation. The devil set Jesus on the pinnacle of the Temple, which is the corner of the wall overlooking the Kidron Valley. "Jump off," he said, "for it is written, 'He shall give his angels charge over thee; to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone, (Psalm 91:11-12). The devil shows Jesus that he can quote scripture, too. Jesus refuses to jump, recalling another verse from Deuteronomy, Ye shall not tempt the Lord your God" (6:16). The quest for fame and notoriety is just as unworthy as the quest for material things.

In the last temptation the devil comes out in the open. He does not flatter Jesus anymore by calling him the Son of God. He shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and tells him they will be his if he will forget who he is and fall down and worship him, the devil. Again the second Moses recalls the first, and Jesus answers with still another statement of the great lawgiver in the Book of Deuteronomy, "Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, and serve him, and shalt swear by his name" (6:13).

The trial is over. The testing period by the devil is at an end. The threefold temptation of wealth, fame, and power, in ascending order, has failed to seduce Jesus. The voice from heaven heard at the baptism of Jesus has been confirmed. He has proved that he deserves the plaudit: "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (Matt. 3:17). 5. Vocation (Matt. 4:12-25)-The student has been graduated. The apprentice has left the master's studio and is now on his own. The new master assumes authority on his own credentials. Just as John the Baptist goes to prison, Jesus goes into Galilee, the Galilee of the Gentiles, where Jews live alongside people of other races and where many of the Jews themselves have been Hellenized.

Jesus establishes himself at Capernaum on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, a city with a synagogue built by a Roman centurion and not far from Julias, a thoroughly Hellenized and pagan city. As master, he is now in position to have disciples of his own. He calls Simon and Andrew from their fishing nets on the Sea of Galilee, saying, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men" (Matt. 4:19). Later, he sees James and John with their father in a boat. The three men are mending their nets. He calls to them, and they leave their equipment in the boat with their father and follow Jesus. It could be that these four men, the nucleus of the later Twelve, had been disciples of John the Baptist and had been with John when he baptized Jesus. If so, they no longer had a master since John had gone to jail. Also, they would have remembered what John had said about Jesus. This would account for the ease with which Jesus won them. In going to Jesus from John they had exchanged the lesser for the greater.

Shortly it seems the reputation of the new master was established. His fame spread. He healed all manner of sickness and disease among the people, including lunacy and demon possession. Folk came to him in Capernaum from all around: Galilee, the Decapolis (ten Romanized towns), Jerusalem, and even from beyond the Jordan. Jesus had found his vocation, which was to perform in behalf of the people the role of God's messiah and minister on earth. He proclaimed that the kingdom of heaven was at hand. He fulfilled before their eyes the prophecy of Isaiah:

Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her vexation, when at the first he lightly afflicted the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, and afterward did more grievously afflict her by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the nations. The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death upon them hath the light shined. Isaiah 9:1-2

 Matthew says Jesus is that light, and in Capernaum and the region of Galilee it has begun to shine.

Personal Reflection

 1. Do you think of yourself as having a Jewish faith heritage ? Why or why not ?

2. John the Baptist as a prophet in the Old Testament mold, dressing oddly and living a separate life. How night a contemporary prophet signal holiness and complete dedication to God ?

3. Why is a public act of repentance valuable ? Should repentance be a public, one-time act ? Why?

4. Consider yourself and your faith. What of the "old you" has disappeared because of your relationship with Christ ? What about you is new because of your faith in Christ ?

5. The author says that goodness is not synonymous with innocence. What rules of morality seem to equate the two ? How did Jesus deal with the sin and evil around him ?

6. Do you know anyone who proclaims god’s truth uncompromisingly ? Is it possible to be a prophet privately ? Is private holiness a different kind of devotion than being a prophet in public ?

 

 

 

Introduction

The symbol of Matthew is a man, while the symbols of the other evangelists are animals and a bird: the lion of Mark, the ox of Luke, and the eagle of John. There is a reason why antiquity gave to each of the writers of the Gospels the symbol it did. Each symbol then had reference to a particular wording. But now, when we consider the purpose of the author and the nature of the document he produced, these ancient symbols do not convey the same meaning they conveyed to people of earlier times. We are interested in the impression the evangelist had of Jesus and his motif for the presentation he makes of his Lord. The four symbols are adequate enough collectively since they indicate the fourfold picture of Jesus recorded in the Gospels. Through them we see the same person but from different perspectives. However, in my opinion, they need to be reassigned.

The ox as a beast of burden belongs most appropriately to Mark, who sees Jesus as the servant of the God who sent him, while the man should be given to Luke, who presents Jesus to the Gentiles as the universal man. John's symbol of the eagle is still applicable, for to him Jesus is the divine word made flesh. Many lecterns in our churches carry the Bible on the back of the eagle.

The lion, however, belongs preeminently to Matthew. The lion is the king of beasts. Judah, also, is presented in the Old Testament in the form of a lion. Judah, thou art he whom thy brethren shall praise: thy hand shall be in the neck of thine enemies; thy father's children shall bow down before thee. Judah is a lion's whelp: from the prey, my son, thou art gone up: he stooped down, he couched as a lion, and as an old lion; who shall rouse him up? The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be. Binding his foal unto the vine, and his ass's colt unto the choice vine; he washed his garments in wine, and his clothes in the blood of grapes: His eyes shall be red with wine, and his teeth white with milk. Genesis 49:8-12



Matthew's purpose is to present Jesus as the long expected Messiah. He is the king who has been sent to rule his people. There is from start to finish a royal aspect to this Gospel. The nature of the first Gospel is the good news of prophetic fulfillment. That which was foretold long ago by the prophets has at last come about. Matthew's impression of Jesus is that he is of royal lineage, possesses divine authority, and has the prerogatives and powers of God. The Matthean motif in the presentation of Jesus is his inherent relationship to the Old Testament, showing he is not a contradiction to Judaism but rather the climax and completion of Judaic faith.

When Marcion in the second century tried to sever Christianity from its Hebrew origins and to disavow the Old Testament altogether, the Gospel he used was Luke's. After all, Luke had been written for the Gentiles.

But Matthew shows us that we could not have the New Testament if it were not for the Old Testament and that Jesus would not be Jesus if it were not for the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Matthew's is the most Jewish of all the Gospels. We are indebted to this book and its gifted author for maintaining Christianity's continuity with its past. Often, therefore, when Matthew narrates an important event in the life of Jesus, he calls the reader's attention to a prophecy in the Old Testament of which this event is the fulfillment. Indeed, Matthew has devised his own rubric for doing this, and he uses the same pattern each time. ''Now,'' he says, ''all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet" (Matt. 1:22). There are nine other specific instances of this in his Gospel (Matt. 2:15, 17, 23; 4:14; 8:17; 12:17; 13:35; 21:4; 27:9). But many more times than this Matthew makes allusions to various passages in the Old Testament as he tells his story.

The Gospel was obviously written by a Jew and one who knew his Old Testament well. One British commentator thinks the book is decidedly anti-Jewish, anti-Semitic, as we would say today. I have not been able to detect this in my study of the Gospel. What the British commentator cites as his evidence of anti-Semitism impresses me as being pro-Jewish, an eagerness on the part of a converted Jew to convince his own people of the truth of the message of Jesus and to offer them his savior as their savior, too.

The Gospel of Matthew is probably the fullest and the most well rounded of the four. It is designed especially for use by the growing and expanding church. The early church put Matthew first in the New Testament canon, and it has remained in that position ever since. The early church assumed that it had been written first and by a disciple of Jesus.

There are very close similarities between Matthew and Mark. Most modern scholars, especially among the Protestants, believe that Mark antedates Matthew by twenty or thirty years and that the author of Matthew used Mark as his principal source. Others think that Mark is a condensation of Matthew from a different perspective. Be that as it may, each Gospel has its own special emphasis. Here in Matthew we meet our teacher and savior as King and Lord, before whom in the end every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess him to be the rightful ruler over all.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18:<B> </B>The Challenge to Living

There is a tendency in most of us to avoid the crucial and painful issues. This is perfectly obvious in the weak character who, in common parlance, "takes the line of least resistance." But even in characters whom we should call "strong," that is, in properly integrated, mature and purposeful people, there is frequently a reluctance to decide upon radical spiritual issues. A well disciplined human character will seek with determination the solution to a "scientific" problem, or deal courageously with the complexities of a political or "business" situation; many men are capable of exhibiting the highest qualities of courage and endurance in the face of terrible physical handicaps and dangers. But it remains comparatively rare for a man to be willing to fight the spiritual battle, to put into practice the principle of outgoing love which is the heart of Christianity. The moment we begin to come within range, as it were, of the danger area, a great many people take refuge in what I can only call "cozy agnosticism." For so long as a man can persuade himself that he may honestly maintain an open mind about the identity and person of Jesus Christ, he remains uncommitted to the real business of living. Since he has no real standards he can be tolerant in isolation instead of becoming embarrassingly involved. Since he is unenlisted in any supra-human purpose, he is free to give or withhold himself as he chooses. Since he owes loyalty to nothing but his own humanist ideals, he is under no personal obligation to touch or be touched by the evil he deplores. And since he is responsible to no one, he need feel no particular guilt or failure in avoiding battles in which he can observe a pitiful minority struggling ineffectually. This attitude of noncommittal detachment is one of the most crippling evils of our time. Of course, there are thousands of people who, with the greatest moral courage, are coping with the sufferings, evils and distresses of our common social life, but if we come to examine any of these human efforts to deal with human needs, there is almost always a desperate shortage of dedicated men and women. "Dedicated" is the operative word, for so long as people have no faith in any value or purpose beyond the immediate human situation, there is nothing, in the last analysis, to which they can be truly dedicated. People may be "nice," honest and kind within certain limits, but nothing is going to break the coziness of agnosticism except a resurgence of faith. It is absolutely necessary for us to recapture the sense that this limited human life is surrounded and interpenetrated by a timeless spiritual dimension. Christ spoke unequivocally about "coming from" the Father, and "going to" the Father. It was said of him that "he went about doing good and healing all manner of sickness and disease among the people." He claimed that the work which he did, whether it was the healing of body, mind or soul was the work of God himself. Yet at the same time he stated quite definitely that his "Kingdom is not of this world." In other words, while he operated within the time-and-space situation, and neither despised nor detached himself from actual human living, he lived in continual awareness of what, for want of a better word, we call "eternity."

We may think his free use in the parables of the ideas of rewards, compensations and punishments in "the life to come" somewhat crude. We like to think that we do good for the sake of doing good and not for any reward or through fear of any punishment. But if we take Christ seriously we cannot avoid the conclusion that our status in the next stage of existence will be largely determined by our behavior in this one. As far as I know Christ nowhere suggests that we should be "good," unselfish and loving merely because we shall thereby win a heavenly reward. Nor does he suggest that we should avoid evil merely because we shall otherwise suffer for it hereafter. He is simply concerned to state what he clearly sees to be inevitable consequence; he is neither threatening nor promising, but stating inescapable fact. His chief call therefore is to what is usually rather misleadingly translated "repentance," actually to metanoia, which means a fundamental change of outlook, the acceptance of a quite different scale of values. The call to follow him, to enlist in the service of his Kingdom, must sooner or later include this revolution in thinking. It is really a call to freedom, freedom from the preoccupation with self, and from the preoccupation with the values of the closed-system of this world. It is as though he were showing men something of their true dignity and destiny -- he is revealing the fact that they are all potentially, and may become actually, sons of God. He exposes the play-acting (that is, the hypocrisies) of human living, its lovelessness toward fellow men, and its blindness to the contemporary presence and purpose of God. In effect, he calls men to a new pattern of life, the way of self-giving love, which is not shaped by earthly caution and prudence, but guided by his own living Spirit. It is a call to heroic and adventurous living, dangerous and exciting. For it is nothing less than the following, in this present level of living, of the timeless pattern which extends far beyond it. It cannot be contained by the old forms and traditions, and, as he himself remarked, any attempt to put the new wine into old wineskins would be disastrous.

Now it does seem to me that, in an age which has done and is doing exciting things in almost every department of life, this call to a new and true way of living should have a wide appeal. We have come to equate the supernatural with the "spooky" and the spiritual with the nebulous. But suppose we ourselves are being called to a metanoia. Suppose we are asked to believe that the dimension of ultimate reality is only partially adumbrated by what we see happening in human life? Can we not, on the authority of the historic visit, make at least a leap of imagination and see our lives as a temporary indication in time and space of something of far greater value and significance? Must we be so geocentric in our thinking? Can we not see that it is only from our point of view that this life looks like the whole? Could we not for a moment forget to be "sensible" and "scientific" and believe that our dreams, our longings and our intuitions, which can never be satisfied in this life, are not vapors of wishful thinking, but quietly insistent reminders of our true destiny?

Now although Christianity is an "otherworldly" way of living in that it derives its values, its power and ultimate purpose from a source outside this planet, it is, as we have seen above, incurably earthly. Therefore, we must not be surprised, if we embark on the course of following the way of Christ, to find that we are at once challenged by mundane difficulties. It is no good pretending that the way of freedom, of true insight and of deep joy is some painless primrose path. If it were so all men would unquestionably by now have become devoted followers of Christ. The way of living which recognizes God as the center of life instead of the self, or the aggregate of selves which we call humanity, does carry an endorsement of truth, but not without arousing hostility both inside and outside ourselves. We do not realize the depth of our former blindness, or the distortion of our previous values until we begin to live by the Light of the world.

We are in fact called to a battle, a battle which is largely a matter of holding tenaciously to what we inwardly know to be true in spite of apparent contradiction. But however sharp the conflict may be, no one who has seriously put his faith in Christ’s revelation ever wants to go back to a blind and purposeless existence. The Christian holds a clue to the meaning of life which is a pearl of very great price, and he will never let it go. It is true that he is faced by problems of every kind, by strains within and without himself, but he is no longer walking in darkness, and he knows that he is not walking alone. At the best he sees life and its purpose with such clarity that he is amazed that all men cannot see and embrace the truth; but at the very worst, whatever life may inflict upon him, he knows himself to be indissolubly joined to the reality which is God and he is in no doubt about the ultimate outcome. Following the way of real living may prove costly and difficult; but I know from my own experience and from that of many others that it provides increasingly a sense of satisfaction which is almost indefinable. Something very deep within us knows that we are in harmony with the real pattern, the real purpose -- we have begun to live as sons of God.

I see some clue to the spiritual satisfaction afforded by acceptance of the Christian Faith in what have now become established as the psychological essentials of human living. For the distilled wisdom of psychological schools of thought really amounts to this: that human beings need above all love, security and significance. The personality deprived of any of these three, especially during the formative years, is inevitably bound to show signs of inner deprivation. To put it in plain terms, everybody needs to love and be loved, everybody needs a reasonable degree of security, and everybody needs to feel he holds a significant place in human society. A great many human evils are directly attributable to the fact that people have been or are deprived of these basic requirements. Now the conscientious humanist society will do its utmost to meet these psychological needs, but I believe that they must also be recognized at a much deeper level, at the level of the naked and lonely human spirit. Because many people live most of their lives in the company of others, and indeed many cannot bear to be alone, these deep needs are often concealed. But when circumstances force men, possibly through tragedy, bereavement or personal suffering, to realize their solitariness, a need far deeper than the basic psychological requirements is, often poignantly, experienced. Man finds that he needs both to love and be loved by God, not in any sentimental sense, but at the center of his being where pretense is impossible. He desperately needs real security, not physical security, for life has probably taught him that comparatively few can enjoy this, and in any case, sooner or later, it is knocked from their grasp by the fact of death. He wants the deep security of knowing that he is in fact a son of God, and that there is nothing whatever which could possibly happen to him which can affect the ultimate safety of that relationship. Spiritually, too, he deeply needs to know that he is of value, that his little life is significant in the vast eternal scheme of things. Properly understood, the Christian Faith answers these needs at the deepest level. Countless men and women have in their own darkness and solitariness found that there is "someone there." In the God revealed by Christ they discover love, security and significance of a quality inexpressible in words.

But there is no need to wait for life to strip us of our armor and reveal us to ourselves in our solitariness. We need not wait till the superficialities are destroyed before we make a determined plunge beneath the surface to find the meaning and significance of life. God, I repeat, is inescapably and at all times contemporary.

Conclusion

Many people of sensitivity and perception, whether they have a religious faith or not, view with dismay the growing materialism of this age. To anyone who is in the least alive to the contemporary God, the general life of this country, despite many virtues, exhibits all the symptoms of God-deficiency. For the present generation is, albeit unconsciously, attempting to prove that man can live by bread alone. "The good life" is conceived almost entirely in terms of creature comforts, labor-saving appliances, better clothes, better and longer holidays, more money to spend and more leisure to enjoy. None of these things is wrong in itself. But when they are assumed to satisfy every desire, ambition and aspiration of man, we are surely right to be alarmed at the grip of materialism. For when possessions, pleasures and the thought of physical security fill a man’s horizon, he ceases to ask himself such basic questions as, "What am I?" or "What am I here for?" He may gain the whole world but he will lose his own soul.

Now I do not believe there is any remedy for this suffocating materialism except the recovery of a religious faith, and that means, above all, the recovery of true, essential Christianity. For it is only when it is plainly seen that the great purpose is the building of the universal Kingdom of God, and that the object of human living is the development of the human spirit, that the irrelevance of such things as material success becomes apparent. Close contact with the living Spirit of the living God, whether it be by conventional religious approach or not, is the only thing that will reveal to us the lunatic topsy-turvydom of many of our current values. Without the Christian revelation, without a point of reference which lies beyond the present human situation, I cannot myself see that any really cogent argument can be advanced against materialism.

Man does not of course live by bread alone; he merely continues his physical existence with some concomitant mental phenomena. It is the authentic Word of God, the suprahuman truth which challenges him and brings his spirit to life. Sooner or later, if men will only pursue their thoughts far enough, they must see that life without a true faith is quite literally a dead loss. At present the religious instinct, which I believe to exist in every man, is being penetrated. All men naturally worship someone or something, but in the commonly assumed absence of God, this worship is given almost wholly to such things as success, sport, the heroes or heroines of the fantasy-world of the screen or stage, or to the mysteries of science. Such a superstition as astrology may flourish as a substitute-religion for the ignorant, while some fancy version of an Eastern religion may attract the intellectual agnostic. But perversions of the instinct to worship God do not in the long run rescue man either from his own solitariness or from the closed-system of materialism. The way out, paradoxically enough, lies in no form of uncommitted escapism, but in a closer commitment to life. Christianity shows the way of such closer commitment; it does not merely restore a man’s faith in God but inevitably involves him in compassion and service. This is both the strength and the difficulty about the Christian way of life. Other methods may give "religious" experiences, but only Christianity insists that the life of the spirit must be expressed within the terms of the present human predicament. That is why only Christianity can fully satisfy the desire to worship and the desire to serve. It is demonstrably true that when men begin to love their neighbors as themselves, to experience and to express compassion for those in all kinds of human need, they become spiritually alive.

In Christ’s teaching enormous stress is laid upon the way in which men and women treat one another, and the whole concept of a human being is raised in value because he is declared to be a loved and valued son of God. The relief of human suffering, of whatever kind, the liberation of human beings from fear, ignorance and evil, the compassionate use of human talents and personality -- all these are shown to be of the highest importance. For they are expressions of the divine purpose as well as the means of developing the human spirit. But because we are infected personally, nationally and internationally with the prideful spirit of competitiveness, we have got our priorities hopelessly mixed, and cannot see the truth. Most men admire compassion from a safe distance, and applaud good works which do not involve them personally. But willing compassionate involvement in dark and difficult human problems stands very low in the list of most men’s plans and ambitions. In our modern world we have come to accept it as commonplace that the launching of a single small satellite should cost more than the building and equipping of a modern hospital. We find it easier to be fascinated by the possibilities of space travel than to be distressed by the plight of millions of refugees living in misery on our own planet. Real Christianity is good bread-and-butter stuff which nourishes men’s souls by the worship of the true God and by the exercise of practical compassion. But the fascination of modern technical advances in every department of our physical life has made us like spoiled children who long for candies and more candies, and have lost their stomach for truly nourishing food.

At the risk of being repetitious, I must say once more that I believe that only a new grasp of Christian humanism can save us from the subtle deteriorations of materialism. Good will, kindheartedness, self-sacrifice and the willingness to serve are, of course, good, but they are absorbed in the desert of material godlessness unless they are joined to a supranatural purpose and reinforced by a supranatural power. And this is exactly what the Christian Church should be. For any army of men and women who are conscious, despite their own defects, of cooperating with the Mind and Purpose which began, and will end, the human scene, cannot be lightly dismissed as a crowd of "do-gooders."

Whenever the Christian Church has in fact been such a dedicated fellowship, it has often met with hostility, ridicule and persecution, but it has never been disregarded. At this present time the Church is taken very seriously in atheist-Communist countries, and hardly ever looked upon as a mere hangover from a superstitious past. For the men with hard faces, the men who lust for power and see their fellows as no more than units in a machine, know intuitively that the Church is the implacable champion of human liberty, of the truly human values and the finest human aspirations. Recent history shows quite clearly that when the conflict becomes acute in a totalitarian society it is the Christian Church which alone can successfully stand up for human liberty and conscience. It should be remembered that it was not the well meaning agnostics who were able to defy Hitler but the Christian churches. Today it is not the vague humanist who is regarded as the enemy of Communism in, for example, Eastern Germany; it is the Christian, who has standards and loyalties which are rooted in God.

I think something else should be said. If we were able to conduct a survey of those human beings who are giving the most devoted service to people in need, whether it is to the blind, the deaf and dumb, the leper, the spastic or any other of our afflicted fellow human beings, I am confident that we should find the Christians in the majority. I believe ordinary men and women would be amazed if they could see how often, in the black spots of the world’s superstition, ignorance, disease and fear, the Christians were the first to arrive. There are, to my knowledge, many thousands of dedicated Christian men and women who are day after day mediating the love of God despite every difficulty and discouragement.

Now in this country of traditional Christian values, a land which may well lead the world in matters of justice and liberty, it is very easy to underestimate the powers of evil. The issues are blurred and the battle between good and evil is scarcely recognized by the majority of people. We know nothing at first hand of the cruelty of dictatorship. We rarely have to suffer much for our faith, if indeed we have one. But how much longer this atmosphere of comfortable apathy is going to last is anybody’s guess. Already we have a generation growing up without moral standards, with no sense of purpose and with little, if any, concern for the enormous human problems which are coming to light all over the world. Mere "kindness," "niceness," "good will" or "tolerance" is never going to supply a dynamic for living, a cause for which to live and die, or a purpose commanding a man’s total dedication. We who are middle-aged may have jogged along, content with those liberal humanist values left to us by preceding ages of faith. But nothing less than the recovery of real Christianity, with its ineradicable emphasis upon human compassion, and its inexorable insistence upon the transience of this world and the reality of eternity, will ever put back into the disillusioned the faith, hope, courage and gaiety which are the marks of a human being cooperating with his Creator.

I believe it to be essential for us to recover the dimension of eternity if we are to value this life properly and live it with sanity and courage. The pieties of former ages cannot satisfy the modern mind. For example, the conception of `’eternity" as merely endless æons of time has given many people an idea of "Heaven" which they have rejected as absurd. But surely here the conception of another "dimension" can come to the aid of our thought. No thinking Christian today believes in "Heaven" or "everlasting life" as a mere extension of time-and-space existence, however purified and exalted! He believes that after the death of the body there is a release from the time-and-space predicament and a conscious sharing in the timeless Life of God, in which there are probably various stages of enlightenment and knowledge. There may be no words to describe such a timeless state, but that proves no more than that its reality is beyond present human expression. Yet it remains the unshakable conviction of Christians, from New Testament days until today, that there is what must be called, for want of a better word, an "eternal" order, an "eternal" plan and an "eternal" life. Compared with these eternal verities the present human scene gives no more than a hint of unimagined realities.

The trend of modern thought, with its concentration upon making the most of this present life and the tacit assumption that death means extinction, makes it particularly easy for people to disbelieve in, or to ridicule, life after death. But historically, it is the conviction of unseen realities which has given men and women invincible strength. There might be some truth in the old gibe of pie-in-the-sky if we found all Christians doing absolutely nothing to better the world, on the grounds that they have Heaven to look forward to; and all the atheists working like mad to relieve every form of human distress, since this life is all that we have! But that is obviously and demonstrably untrue, and something very like the reverse is sometimes the case. It is those who are in touch with the eternal order who make the most heroic and sustained efforts to improve conditions for their fellows. It is those who know God to be eternal who most satisfactorily prove that God is their contemporary.

Chapter 21:<B> </B>Christ and the Church

If we can accept the divine entry of God into human history through the man Jesus Christ, we cannot help accepting the unique nature of the fellowship which he founded. For in a true sense it is an extension of the actual visit, sustained by the living God. This explains the extraordinary strength and resilience of the Christian Church, and also why it is a mistake to regard it as a purely human organization of those who happen to share the same religious views. Neither its own failures or stupidities, nor the neglect or the persecution of the surrounding world can ever destroy it. Sometimes outstandingly, but more often imperfectly, men and women all over the world have allowed something of the life, and therefore of the love, of God to invade their own personalities. Individually they are expendable, but as the agency of God they are indestructible. Maddening as this fact may be to the atheistic humanist, both past and present history confirm it over and over again.

For Jesus Christ himself began the vast project of establishing the Kingdom of God upon earth by calling together a handful of men. Before his own departure from the visible human scene he entrusted to these few the awe-inspiring task of telling the world about God and his Kingdom. He promised them supranatural power, wisdom and love, and The Acts of the Apostles shows how this close-knit fellowship set out with joyful and hopeful audacity to build the Kingdom of Light in the Stygian darkness of the pagan world. These early Christians were held together by their common love for their Lord and his purpose, by their worship and their prayer. Violent persecution, public torture, social ostracism and dreadful forms of death could neither quench the fire nor defeat the purpose of the young Church. The movement proved unconquerable, and still proves unconquerable, because its unseen roots are in the eternal God.

Now it may seem a far cry indeed from that pristine, heroic fellowship to the Christians of today, who are too often tied by tradition and prejudice. Yet it remains true that wherever a church is sincerely dedicated to the living God and committed to the pattern of outgoing love, the same joyful certainty and the same paradox of vulnerable indestructibility continue to be exhibited. When we have made all the criticisms we can of those sections of the Church which are antiquated and backwardlooking, we still have to reckon with the real builders of the Kingdom, who exist in every branch of the Christian Church. Having worked with and lived with such people for many years, I am ready to believe the truth of Paul’s startling statement that Christians are "the Body of Christ."

The work of the Christian Church in the dark, fear-ridden parts of the world today is almost completely unknown to the ordinary man of good will. But anyone who takes the trouble to study what the churches are actually doing will see how they are proving to be the spearhead of good against centuries-old fear, superstition and prejudice. I believe the man of good will without much religious faith would be enormously impressed if he could realize what is being done by the Christian churches in works of human compassion alone. The true lover of humanity could not but feel deep sympathy with those Christians who are impelled by the love of God to serve fear-ridden and disease-stricken humanity in almost all parts of the world. But the man of good will takes, as a rule, not much more than a passing glance at the existing churches in this country. He sees readily enough the outmoded pieties and the undoubted pettiness of some Church members. But if he would penetrate further and seek the heart and soul of the whole matter, he would find in any true Christian fellowship that quality of compassionate love which is both inspired and sustained by the living God.

While it is true that the Christian Church has proved itself to be the spearhead of light in primitive pagan darkness, and indeed is still proving so today, its task in this country is not nearly so clear-cut. The true Christian sees with painful clarity the need for a recovery of a true religious faith, and many heroic efforts have been made, and are being made, to communicate it. I have already suggested that one of the Christian’s urgent tasks is the giving of essential information, and I do not think that can be denied, but I am coming to believe more and more that the right "way in" in the prevailing atmosphere of today is to stress the need for compassionate service.

For although I do not doubt that some have found a religious faith in the mammoth evangelistic rallies which are held from time to time, I find it impossible to believe that this is ever going to be the way for a large-scale recovery of religious faith among ordinary people. The Englishman is basically sensible and practical, and although like anybody else he can be swept by superficial emotion for a time, his life is actually governed by much deeper emotions and affections. On the whole he is not "spiritual" by nature at all, and unless "faith" is expressed in actions which he can see and appreciate he is not likely to be convinced. Because of his unconscious but centuries-old impregnation by Christian belief, he often knows instinctively what is genuinely good and kind and unselfish, and on the whole he admires it. He may be Pelagian, (The heresy of the monk Pelagius was that he considered people to be fundamentally good rather than fundamentally evil.) but, to be blunt, no argument in the world is ever going to persuade him that a good man, however irreligious, goes to hell, or that a bad man, however religious, goes to heaven!

It seems to me that the re-presentation of Christianity in today’s situation might well begin with a re-emphasis of the teaching of Matthew 25, verses 31 to the end, to which I have already referred. It seems to me a most useful argumentum ad hominem with the strongest possible authority behind it. People have never been so aware of the dire distress of other human beings, and in this parable -- the only recorded picture of the final judgment --we have an argument which appeals alike to the basic kindliness and powerful sense of justice which lie deep in the British character. For here we find the King categorically stating that the way in which we treat people, consciously or unconsciously, willingly or unwillingly, is the way in which we treat him. Here, in the ultimate issue, is no airy-fairy religious notion but downright practicality. If a man helps a fellow man in need he is to that extent serving Christ. Inasmuch as he turns a blind eye or deaf ear to human need he is failing to serve Christ the King. It is as simple and as profound as that.

Of course the moment we can get people to take such teaching seriously they find themselves confronted with their own prejudice, intolerance and lack of outgoing love. Indeed, they may well become aware that their real sin, as distinct from the "sins" which they may or may not have committed, is a failure to love, a refusal to be committed, a dislike of being involved. Valuable as human love is, something is needed to deepen, enlarge and strengthen it. And here, I believe, is the point where men can come into contact with the living God. I do not mean merely that a man’s own insufficiency of love drives him back upon the resources of God, although this is true, and such an experience has happened to many people. I mean that when a man wholeheartedly commits himself to the way of love, compassion and service, he finds that the pattern itself is surprisingly, and perhaps disconcertingly, alive. For the living Christ is really quite easily discoverable and no one recovers a true religious faith without a personal encounter with him.

We have now to face an unpleasant fact. It would be delightful indeed to imagine that all the nice, good, kind people would immediately become wholehearted Christians if only they were properly to grasp the true nature and purpose of the Christian Faith. I believe this is true of a good many men and women of good will, who live in almost complete ignorance of what Christianity is all about, and that is why I have constantly stressed the need for Christian information. But there is a challenge and a demand made by the living Christ that many people would rather avoid. It is far easier to evade the moral responsibility which Christ may put upon a man, by criticizing the churches and satisfying the conscience by doing deeds of kindness, than to declare oneself boldly and unequivocally ready to serve the King. The unpleasant truth must be stated: some people deliberately avoid anything that may lead them to the divine encounter.

Further, it is significant that those who write of their experience of true conversion to the Christian Faith always tell of a time of struggle. Their struggle is not with an historic fact, not with a philosophy of living, and not with any branch of the Church, but with the gently persistent, inexorable claim of Jesus Christ. The very bitterness of their attacks upon Christianity is later revealed to be only the measure of their fight against the one ultimate authority, the Son of God. Some of those whom we know to have had such experience (and there must be many thousands of whom there is no record) have found this penetrating, challenging spirit through contact with a group of true Christians, who were themselves probably quite unaware of issuing any challenge. Others, who have taken the trouble to read and study, have found to their alarm and discomfiture that what they thought was a safely distant historical figure becomes disconcertingly alive and contemporary.

But for every one who makes contact with a living Christian fellowship or studies the New Testament for himself there are thousands who do neither. They know nothing of the historic origin of Christianity, its present-day battles, or of the fundamental difference which the presence of Christ makes to so many people. If the churches were seen to be focal points of love and compassion, of understanding and service, if their services were known to be meetings of worship for those who are, or would like to be, agents of self-giving love, then at least the nice, friendly people without faith would know "what religion is all about." They might or might not accept the challenge to Christian living, but at least there would be the chance that the people of good will without faith might join forces with the people of good will with faith, to the very great spiritual benefit of all concerned.

Thus, I have come to believe that at the present time our best chance of creating the conditions for a spiritual revival lies in the repeated stressing of Christian humanism. Humanism without religion lacks depth, purpose and authority, but the humanism advocated by Jesus Christ seems to me peculiarly appropriate to our age. For even the least intelligent of men are beginning to see that unless they love and understand one another they will most certainly destroy one another. If the true nature and function of the Christian Church were rediscovered many might come to realize that only in the Kingdom of God, which is the Kingdom of Love, is there hope and strength, and the only possible security. For what ultimately matters is not religious exercises per se but the way in which we behave toward other people, our willingness or unwillingness to be involved in the vast purpose of love. The Englishman may be suspicious of churchiness, of technical religious terms, of rites and robes, of bells and smells, which seem to him irrelevant to the business of living. But he is by no means unmoved by the needs of the handicapped and underprivileged, the homeless and the helpless, when he is made aware of them. It seems to me therefore that the most hopeful place in which to build a bridge between the worlds of faith and unfaith is on the common ground of human compassion.

I have written in this book about two worlds of good will which are known to me personally -- the one whose compassion and love flow out of its faith in God, and the other which produces actions of compassion and self-giving service with little or no articulate religious faith. I am not for a moment suggesting that these are the only two worlds which exist in our country today --there are vast fields of greed, stupidity, selfishness and fear, which lie quite outside the categories under consideration. No, what I am pleading for is that these two worlds, which are at present largely strangers to each other, might become one in spirit, a powerful army of true goodness and true love, following the pattern and inspired by the Spirit of the contemporary God. On the one hand the Church should welcome with open arms those who are plainly exhibiting the fruits of the Spirit, however sketchy and ill informed their ideas of the Christian Faith may be. On the other hand I would like to see the men and women of good will but little faith making a positive invasion of the churches, bringing with them their own insights, refusing to be dismayed by what appears to be outdated and irrelevant, and joining in what is the heart and soul of the matter, the worship of the living God and the expression of his love and purpose in everyday human life.

Chapter 19: The Missing Dimension

The longer we live the more life will reveal to us our inescapable loneliness, insignificance and insecurity. No one can be said to be living at all until he has realized and come to terms with the real and permanent which transcends change and decay. A man without the sense of reality underlying and extending far beyond present realities is, to anyone who has even glimpsed the dimension of true living, a deficient and pathetic figure. He may be brave, kindly and unselfish but he cannot escape being a clueless cardboard figure in a meaningless, purposeless world. I believe the time is coming when this geocentric conception of the human predicament will seem foolish and inadequate. I believe that as science discovers more of that unseen which "programs" and "patterns" the seen, it will become more and more clear that physical death is not always a disaster and is never a finality.

I wonder why it should be thought unscientific to believe in the dimension of God, in spiritual forces and spiritual realities which have demonstrable effects upon people. An everyday example will show the illogicality of such thinking. We are surrounded by such things as radio, television, radar, X-rays, sunlight and the artificial lighting of our streets and homes. All these things produce or are produced by vibrations of various "wavelengths" in what used to be called the "ether." Now in spite of the fact that the wavelength of any of the above-mentioned phenomena can be accurately measured, and despite the fact that the speed of these vibrations through the "ether" is known, it has become scientifically unfashionable to talk about "ether" at all. These vibrations occur in "space," and "space" has the ability to support or transmit vibrations of widely varying frequency. Indeed, the radio-telescope at Jodrell Bank can detect "radio" vibrations from exceedingly distant stars whose light-vibrations cannot be received at all by any optical telescope in the world. Yet we are told that this medium which transmits measurable vibrations at a measurable speed has no objective existence; its function is simply a property of space. All right, then. But if we can swallow such a dictum of science without a murmur, why should the values and realities of the spirit be held to be unreal and imaginary? We might, for instance, suggest, in imitation of scientific terms, that there are "vibrations" of the human personality higher up the spectrum than our scientific humanists will allow. We might go further and suggest that these "vibrations" are a property of the "spiritual dimension" just as truly as the etheric vibrations are a property of "space." And it is really a poor argument to say that the existence and reality of the spiritual are purely subjective phenomena. For, after all, the result of every scientific experiment is ultimately a subjective one, since it is human beings who decide whether a theory is proved or not. There are millions of people today to whom the spiritual and supra-human are quite satisfactorily "proved."

The discovery of God, his purpose, the dimension of "eternity" and all that follows from this experience seem to me to come along certain lines. And these, which I now mention, are based upon actual observed experience, although of course there must be many others.

(1) A man, for reasons that he certainly could not put into words, is dissatisfied with the atmosphere of non-faith in which he has been brought up. Unlike the noble souls who apparently find satisfaction in pursuing purposes in the certain knowledge that the whole universe is purposeless, he is oppressed with the futility of an ordinary human life. For some reason or another, and very often because he has observed the stability and satisfaction which a true religion has given to someone else, he begins to seek with an open mind. For the first time he reads and studies as an adult the documents of the New Testament. During this period of study he "prays" and attempts to open his whole personality to God, if indeed there be one. This is normally a fairly slow process, but again and again I have observed such a man, or woman, discover the livingness of God. Christ steps out of the ancient pages and becomes an unseen but real contemporary person.

Now I would emphasize that in these conditions, which apply to quite a number of the Christians whom I know, there have been no outward pressure and no indoctrination. It is true that such Christians may later ask for "instruction," so that their knowledge of this new truth may be deepened and widened. But in the first instance neither guilt, fear nor the pressure of anybody else’s personality forced such people into religious faith.

(2) There has been in my experience a small number of people who came "to seek God" almost in despair because they were defeated by their own temperaments, desires or circumstances. To put it quite bluntly, they saw themselves being pulled down by something either inside or outside themselves which they were growing less and less able to resist. Such people turn to God as a kind of last resort. I know several who found that the hitherto inexperienced God does in fact exist. They received, in varying degrees, an experience of reconciliation, and to some extent this may be explained purely in terms of internal psychology. But what I personally find so remarkable about such happenings is that men and women find in God a power greater than themselves, which is demonstrably available in their situation. It is naturally very easy for the clever and well adjusted to sneer at simple people "finding Christ," "knowing the saving power of Jesus," and to forget that behind the "corny" expressions that may be used there lies a rather awe-inspiring truth. For that which is theoretically unattainable is in fact attained: human nature is changed both in direction and in disposition..

Because this is a genuine experience of some people, it is only too easy for certain evangelists to assume that it is the right way for all. They therefore concentrate all their energies upon inducing a sense of guilt, and then presenting the message of salvation and forgiveness. Unfortunately it is quite easy, especially among young people, to produce this feeling of guilt. And once it has been produced sufficiently strongly, a personality may be led in almost any direction -- a truth which is well known to Communist indoctrinators. But in practice, and as a result of observation, the induction of guilt by methods of mass evangelism frequently has one of two unfortunate results. First, after the experience of having the feeling of guilt aroused and then tranquilized the man of intelligence may come to see how he has been emotionally exploited. I have known of men whose last state was thus much worse than their first because, once having got over the humiliating experience, they are thereafter suspicious of what true religion is trying to say. The second unfortunate result, and again I know this from observation, is that people may come to regard the guilt-forgiveness experience as the high spot of the religious life. Indeed, it assumes such paramount importance in their minds that anything else in the complex business of living seems scarcely worth consideration. Consequently we find people clinging to their experience of being "converted," "saved" or "born again," but quite obviously never allowing the revolutionary message of true Christianity to penetrate their thinking or their feeling. Fascinated by the wonder of their own "redemption" they continue to live in a cocoon of forgiveness and let the world go hang.

(3) There are people, people of intelligence and integrity, some of whom at least have been nominal members of a church for many years, upon whom the truth seems to break in quite sudden illumination. This may happen through a study group, through a mission, through the ordinary ministry of the Church, through the reading of a book, or through personal conversation. The significance and relevance of Christianity, which had previously been dulled or impotent, become radiantly clear and strong. Words and phrases which were meaningless suddenly become alive and meaningful. Christianity is no longer just a reasonable hypothesis, but the truth by which all other truths are judged. God, vaguely believed in as a background power, becomes alive, operating in and through the contemporary scene.

(4) Then there are a few people whom I know (and I wish with all my heart that there were more), who have, apparently accidentally, discovered the relevance of the Christian Faith to the work that they have been trying to do for humanity’s sake. I can think of a probation officer, a male nurse in a mental hospital, a hospital sister, a youth worker, and some others who, over the years, discovered that they were unconsciously (or perhaps intuitively is a better word) following the way of outgoing love, which is the way of Christ. I have no wish to make exaggerated claims, but I think I can fairly say that in all these cases the sense of worthwhileness and purpose was deepened and strengthened when the work was seen to be part of the "immemorial plan." These people also gained in their personal lives because God became to them a living and active power instead of a vague possibility.

The above examples of a few people who have found God real and contemporary, and who have thereby gained a sense of purpose which far transcends this little life, are no more than a brief record of those whom I have personally known. Obviously, such experience could be multiplied by thousands, if not by millions, throughout the world. It is an undeniable fact of human experience that contact can be made with a reality beyond the visible realities. To me at least this is evidence for the existence of God which simply cannot, in common fairness, be lightly dismissed.

Now unfortunately for the scientifically-minded, God is not discoverable or demonstrable by purely scientific means. But that really proves nothing; it simply means that the wrong instruments are being used for the job. God is discoverable in life, in human relationships, in the everlasting battle between good and evil, even though he may be conceived as transcending all these things. There is no discovery of the truth of Christ’s teaching, no unanswerable inward endorsement of it, without committing oneself to his way of life. We can observe with detachment the failures of Christians and the virtues of non-Christians as though life were a competition in goodness, but we can never know for certain what life is really all about until we have honestly committed ourselves to the Christian way of living. The test lies in the doing, and as Jesus himself once said (I translate freely from John 7: 17): "If any man wants to know whether this teaching comes from God or is of purely human invention, he must set himself to follow the purpose of God."

Christianity is an invitation to true living, and its truth is endorsed only by actual experience. When a man becomes a committed Christian he sooner or later sees the falsity, the illusions, and the limitations of the humanist geocentric way of thinking. He becomes (sometimes suddenly, but more often gradually) aware of a greatly enhanced meaning in life and of a greatly heightened personal responsibility. Beneath the surface of things as they seem to be, he can discern a kind of cosmic conflict in which he is now personally and consciously involved. He has ceased to be a spectator or a commentator and a certain small part of the battlefield is his alone. Consequently he also becomes aware, as probably never before, of the forces ranged against him. As in every evolutionary process, including the growth of a normal human being, there is a force which pulls upward, but there is also a force making for relapse and regression. We must not be surprised to find a man whose eyes have been opened to spiritual reality experiencing again and again reactionary forces within himself. He is, I believe, being drawn to a higher level of human living, a greater awareness, and a greater responsibility. In the nature of things there will inevitably be a pull back to the former, more comfortable, mode of non-committed thinking and feeling.

In addition to this tendency within himself he will in all likelihood be surrounded by many people who regard his new enlightenment as moonshine and will exert a day-by-day pressure to bring him back into line with "ordinary" life. But there is a third factor of opposition which I attempt to define with some hesitation. For it appears to me, on comparing my own experience with that of many friends, that once one has seriously enlisted on the side of God and his purpose some considerable spiritual opposition is provoked and encountered. Quite apart from one’s own tendency to regress and quite apart from the atmosphere of non-faith in which many Christians have to live, the Christian finds himself attacked by nameless spiritual forces. It is very easy for the non-committed agnostic, or indeed for any non-Christian to make light of an organized force of evil. But it is highly significant to me to find that in every case of a person becoming a Christian, of which I have personal knowledge, this sense of spiritual opposition is experienced, and sometimes felt very keenly. If we may personify the forces of evil for a moment, it would appear that "Satan," does not bother to attack, for example, a university professor of philosophy, a popular film star, a busy farmer, a telephone operator or a worker in heavy industry, or anyone else, just so long as they are uncommitted in the real spiritual battle. There is no particular point in producing pressures of evil against a man or woman who moves harmlessly and respectably with the normal currents of contemporary human living. But should they once begin to embark on real living, to assist in the building of the Kingdom of God, then the attack begins. We may read Dr. C. S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters superficially with amusement, but if we are committed Christians, we know that the diabolical subtlety and ingenuity are no mere literary fancies.

To my mind, we are driven, if we are honest, into an inescapable personal decision if we are determined to know the truth. God remains unproved or a myth until we commit ourselves to the way of Christ. The forces of evil, "the devil," "Satan," and all such conceptions remain as a laughable superstitious hangover until we seriously attempt to lead Christian lives. I have therefore no hesitation in challenging any agnostic who wants to test the truth of the Christian Faith. Let him commit himself and before long he will know both the splendor of the truth and the seriousness of the struggle.

Chapter 20:<B> </B>Re-presenting Christianity

I am sometimes inclined to think that what the Church of England, at any rate, lacks more than anything else is a proper means of disseminating information. (At the moment of writing, the urgency of this matter is beginning to be recognized "at the top" but it has been urgent for at least two generations.) Its pressing task is quite simply to tell people what the basic content of Christianity is, and to give them some information of what the Christian Church is achieving in the face of ignorance, fear, disease and sheer physical human need in many parts of the world. Since 90 per cent of the people in this country are never inside the churches, and since only a tiny fraction even of church people regularly read any church literature, some means must be found of propagating true Christianity. This, I think, must mean buying newspaper and magazine space, making the fullest possible use of radio and television opportunities, employing highly skilled professional journalists, establishing information centers and providing literature "popular" enough to be available in the secular bookshop and bookstall. In fact, I believe we must seize every modern means of communication for re-presenting Christianity.

Of course such dissemination of information can never be a substitute for Christian living, for Christian witness to the truth and Christian ways of coping with human situations. I do not mean that at all; I am concerned only to point out the need for sheer elementary information. Such a work requires a very great deal of money as well as the highest gifts of imagination, insight and sympathy. But I remain convinced that it must be done and should command urgent priority. I have found that a prodigious ignorance about Christianity exists in all classes of people, but I have not always seen this recognized in church circles. Indeed I have often heard opinions expressed, at meetings of clergy and others, which assume that the people of this country are openly and defiantly rejecting the standards and claims of Christian living. I am sure that this is an entirely false view. A few random conversations with ordinary non-church-going people in different parts of the country quickly reveal that most people have only the haziest idea of what the Christian Faith is all about. I am not sure that we are even living in a "post-Christian" era. It would be far more true to say that our society is neopagan. For although it may well be that a certain brand of Victorian piety was rejected during or soon after the First World War, there has been no wholesale repudiation of the basic message of Christ. I do not know whether there would be, but at least it seems to me of the greatest importance that people should know, in terms which they can understand, what it is they are being asked to accept or reject. The stuffy materialism, the lack of purpose, the uncertainty about moral values and the collapse of belief in anything beyond the tomb, are not in themselves a rejection of Christianity so much as a cri de cœur the truth of the Gospel.

Now although it is true that in a sense the task of the Church is always the same, for it always means introducing something of the spiritual life of the contemporary God into a community, in another sense its work must differ according to circumstances. When Christianity began, the young Church sprang into urgent life in spite of the darkest and most discouraging circumstances. Our own circumstances may look dark and discouraging enough for the rebirth of true Christianity, but they differ almost in toto from those of the first century A.D. If we read the New Testament documents we see that their background is largely one of fear, cruelty, superstition, corruption and a callous lack of consideration for human beings. The widest disparity between rich and poor aroused no censorious voice; slavery, exploitation and immorality of all kinds were commonplace, while a gang of more or less discarded gods and a bevy of passé goddesses permeated the common life of the countries surrounding the eastern Mediterranean. The only religion which maintained strict monotheism and upheld moral standards, and which might have proved a friend and helper, became a bitter foe. It is abundantly clear from the New Testament record of Paul’s life that the Jewish religion, in which he himself was nurtured, proved as implacable an enemy to the new Faith as paganism itself. In those circumstances the early Christians called men from faith in false gods to faith in the living God, from lives ridden by fear to a life lighted by the love of God. They called men from multifarious sins to a life of wholesome confidence, supported and reinforced by a God who actually pervaded their personalities. Perhaps above all they called men to share the timeless life of God so that they could regard their present lives as an almost infinitesimal part of an awe-inspiring and magnificent whole. The call was a definite one; it was from darkness to light, from fear to confidence.

The issue today in this country is nothing like so clear-cut. The vast majority of people are not living evil or depraved lives. There is still a public conscience of considerable strength ready to condemn greed, exploitation and cruelty. There is still a great deal of willing self-giving service which, when it is known, commands widespread admiration. The "gods" and "goddesses" which rule the lives of many of our people are not personified and cannot easily be denounced or dethroned. The growth of "scientific" knowledge, to which I have referred many times, coupled with the increasing urbanization of our society, has destroyed primitive fears of divine justice either before or after death. Gross inequalities between rich and poor no longer exist, exploitation in its obvious forms is rare, while the Welfare State has removed many secular anxieties. Since the grosser sins are mostly avoided and apathy is not considered wrong except in time of war, most people are not oppressed with a sense of guilt or sin. It is a pagan world all right, but it is a very different world from the cruel, lustful, callous, violent world of two thousand years ago.

Somehow or another those of us who believe that Christianity is good and relevant news for a bewildered generation have got to do some hard thinking about our methods of re-presentation. For example, there has never been a time when the value of human life has been so highly regarded and when what are loosely called "human" values are the sole guiding principles for most people. This seems to me to offer a very great opportunity for Christianity to make its unique claim for the value of human beings. "People matter" not simply because the nicest people think so or because humanists say so, but because God focused himself in a human being. Human values, instead of being variable and uncertain because they are established by human beings themselves, are revealed by God-become-man. The essence of Christian behavior is to treat people as people, all equally loved by the same Father, however much they may differ in talents or development. But we must go far beyond mere humanism. It is not simply that the value of human beings has been established by an act of God, but that a huge far-reaching plan has been begun. The Kingdom of God, a Kingdom of inner loyalty, which has neither its roots nor its culmination in this temporary life, has nevertheless been established as an historic fact upon this planet. This Kingdom already exists, and its standards and methods of working challenge the life of everyone. A new dignity, a new importance and a new responsibility, have all been brought into the life of man. He can cooperate or he can refuse to cooperate with the patient way of love. He may or may not be religious, but since "no man is an island" he cannot escape from the issue involved -- he either helps or hinders. The refusal to be committed and the attitude of indifference can in fact never be neutral.

To re-establish this concept of the importance and responsibility of living means speaking with the utmost conviction and speaking repeatedly. This is no time for offering people completely out of touch with the Church a snippet of religious comfort or an isolated text from the Bible in some obscure corner of the daily or Sunday newspaper. It is no time for assuming on the radio, on television or in any other public place that people have somehow carelessly lapsed from the Christian way. It is no use blaming people for failing to reach moral standards when many of them scarcely possess any definite standards at all. It is equally useless to belabor people for not attending public worship when they have only the sketchiest idea of what Christianity really means and even less of what the Church stands for. The time has come for the Church to restate boldly and unequivocally that the Way, the Truth and the Life have all been revealed, that the Kingdom is here already and that the battle in which there can be no neutrality is on. The bankruptcy of humanism without God should be ruthlessly exposed and its disquieting similarity to godless Communism deliberately pointed out. The added depth, the added dimension, which human life receives when linked to the timeless Life of God, should be fearlessly proclaimed. False gods do not exhibit their power or even their existence until the living God is experienced. Sin and failure have no meaning until the challenge of a new way of living is thrown down. Noncommittal agnosticism is never seen as an avoidance of the responsibility of living so long as the truth remains unknown. No man knows the strength of the enemy until he has fully enlisted on one side or the other. People will never take evil seriously nor ever see much need to tap the resources of God until they join in with the costly redemptive purposes of love.

We cannot, of course, command success, but we can, at least, present people with the truth as relevant, practical and rewarding in our modern life. We proclaim not a myth but a historic fact, not an idealistic pattern of behavior, but an active, joyful way of living life. We do not preach a stoic courage in the face of life’s ills and accidents, but an acceptance of living from a heavenly Father whose final purpose can never be defeated. Above all, we do not preach outworn pieties reeking of superstition and medieval misunderstandings, but honest contact with the living God. By sheer force of circumstance we are beginning to recover the good sense shown by Paul and many of the early Christians. We are beginning to see that this little world never has offered and never can offer physical security. We are beginning to see that the vast purpose of God can never be confined to individual salvation or to the welfare of any particular race or nation, or even to the necessarily restricted physical life of human beings on this planet. Perhaps, not without wonder and awe, we can at last see how bold and imaginative was the man Jesus when he called a few fishermen and others to found a world-wide Kingdom!

Chapter 17:<B> </B>Problems of Suffering and Evil (2)

Some of the physical "evils" in the world are plainly inimical to human life and constitute a continual challenge to man’s vigilance and ingenuity. Man had made enormous strides in discovering the causes of disease, and is still fighting a long-drawn-out battle against such things as the incredibly minute viruses, and the apparently arbitrary cell-degeneration known as cancer. Of equal importance with these discoveries is the increasing knowledge of the influence of the mind upon the health or disease of the body. A vast amount of further experiment and correlation of experience is needed in this field. Before long more emphasis will be placed upon curing a disease by working from the inside out, so to speak, that is, by paying far more attention to the condition of the center which controls the functioning of that organic whole which we call the body. But again, though we may hope for many significant answers to our hows, we have no answer at all to our whys. Why, for example, should the virus of poliomyelitis exist at all? Or why indeed should there be disease, not merely in human beings but throughout the whole animal creation? Some of our forefathers were apparently satisfied to believe that the whole army of bacteria, germs and viruses which lie in wait to injure or destroy human life were the direct consequence of the sin of Adam. Of course it is possible to concede that the breaking of natural laws, as for instance those of health and hygiene, can incur natural penalties, but surely it surpasses even the most vivid imagination to suppose that one man’s disobedience to, and defiance of, his Creator, could actually create deadly organisms and viruses! Moreover, when it is known from the malformation of bone structure of animals which existed a very long time before man appeared on the earth that they also suffered from disease, the argument falls flat on its face. We still have no clue whatever as to why what we call "disease" should exist at all.

To connect human disease with human sin is an easy and obvious, but to my mind, misleading thing to do. It is altogether too facile an explanation and is contradicted by the evidence every day. We can probably all think of people who live good and unselfish lives yet suffer from disease. And we can also think of people who are thoroughly self-centered who are full of energy and have not had a day’s illness in their lives! Indeed it would appear that there is a monstrous unfairness about the incidence of physical disease I am well aware that certain kinds of functional disorder and even actual disease are being more and more frequently alleviated and cured by increasing the health of the human spirit, and I regard this as a most hopeful approach to the whole question of healing. But that does not alter the fact that, as one looks upon life dispassionately, those in robust health are for the most part extroverts who feel no particular concern for the world around them, while those who suffer from poor health and an assortment of diseases are often sensitive, conscientious people who are doing what they can to lessen the world’s sorrows.

Although we are quite in the dark about the why of human disease and suffering, ordinary observation can show us that the result of their occurrence is by no means necessarily evil. It is not in the sentimental novel only that the self-centered husband has been shocked back into responsibility, and even into a renewal of true love by the sickness of his wife. Similarly the illness of a child can and does renew and deepen the love between a husband and wife. And I can recall quite a number of occasions when visiting men in hospital who had never previously been ill in their lives, being told that such a forcible withdrawal from life came to be regarded far more as a friend than as an enemy. "It gives you a chance to think." "It makes me think about myself and what I’m in this life for." "It’s made me think about God and pray to him for the first time since I was a kid." "It’s opened my eyes to a new world -- I just didn’t realize that this sort of thing [that is, suffering and nursing care], was going on all the time." "I didn’t know what human kindness was till I came here [that is, into the hospital]." These are only a few typical remarks made to me in recent years, and they far outnumber those of the self-pitying or embittered. What is even more impressive and moving is the almost superhuman courage, hope and faith shown by the human spirit when the body is attacked by pain and disease. I am sure that disease is in itself evil, but I am left wondering how the courage, love and compassion it evokes would be produced in a world where everybody was perfectly healthy. Perhaps physical health is not of such paramount importance as our modern geocentric materialist would suppose.

This question of the physical evil in the world leads us naturally on to the question of moral evil, which poses at least as difficult a question, even though it is sometimes argued that they are but different manifestations of the same thing. It is customary nowadays to look upon evil as either the absence of good through ignorance or fear, or else as something which manifests itself through maladjustment of personality. It is not considered to have any objective reality. I believe this to be as fallacious a point of view as to look upon disease as the mere absence of health. It is certainly true that the healthy body, controlled by the healthy mind, will successfully resist all kinds of disease-producing organisms. But this does not prove that the organisms do not exist, for their objective existence can be demonstrated to anybody’s satisfaction. I believe there is a valid parallel here. The fact that moral evil is defeated by the spiritually healthy human being does not prove the non-existence of moral evil.

We have unfortunately grown accustomed to the monstrous inhumanities and cruelties of our modern world. Shocked as we have been by well attested stories of unspeakable tortures and degradation’s, by the mass exterminations of the gas chamber, and by the living death of such places as Belsen and Buchenwald, many people find it difficult to react with proper indignation to contemporary cruelties such as the Communist slave camps in Siberia, or the callous indifference of most people to the plight of millions of refugees. It is as though human sensibility has been dulled by repeated shocks, and has even come to accept the most revolting barbarity as an inescapable part of the modern human scene. At the moment of writing this book, for example, we know that the Communists hold as slave laborers in Siberia great numbers of wretched human beings who are treated with deliberate brutality. We know this; it has been reliably attested by several witnesses who have had the courage and good fortune to escape. But it has come to mean no more to us than, say, the fact that there are penguins in the Antarctic. In time of war we may perhaps say that men revert to the impulses of primitive savagery, and this may well be true. But no savage, however primitive, can show the cold, calculated ruthlessness of, for example, a Communist government. This is not a question of going back to the fight for survival, to "nature red in tooth and claw," but the appearance of something infinitely more radical and sinister. This is not "the growing pains of civilization," but the premeditated use of terror, degradation and vicious brutality.

How are we to begin to explain the existence of such evil? It is not the case of a few maladjusted personalities exhibiting antisocial tendencies; it is like some frightening moral infection which can basically affect thousands, if not millions, of people. But where does it come from? Admittedly I have drawn attention to large-scale suffering, but the question is just as difficult to answer when we come to the hatred, lust, malice, greed, pride and selfishness which mar the national, social and family life of our own country. It seems to me quite inadequate to regard the qualities which spoil relationships as mere absence of good, and for myself I am driven to the conclusion that there is such a thing as evil which can infect and distort human personality just as certainly as there are germs and viruses which attack and damage the physical body.

It is clear, at least to me, that people who worship and love the true God, and open their spirits to the active Spirit of Love, show to a greater or less degree the presence of good within them. It does not seem to me therefore unreasonable to suppose that those who worship and love the wrong things create conditions whereby they are actuated, and to some extent possessed, by "evil." In fact, although it may sound old-fashioned, I do not believe that we take the question of "evil" seriously enough in modern days, so that we are continually being disappointed, shocked or horrified by its manifestations. Although I am very far from subscribing to the doctrine of the total depravity of man, it does seem to me to have been proved within my own lifetime that the problem of human evil is not much affected by better education, better housing, higher wages, holidays with pay, and the National Health Service -- desirable as all these things may be for other good reasons. We need a much more realistic approach to the problem of human evil, and I am perfectly certain that no really effective way of dealing with it will be found apart from the rediscovery of true religion.

When we come to examine the life and teaching of Jesus Christ we may at first be surprised to find how little explanation he gives of the human situation. He does not argue about the existence of suffering or evil, still less does he seek "to justify God’s ways to man." He does not appear to waste time in arguing about the desirability or otherwise of the human situation. He accepts it and he concentrates upon the center to which everything else, however important or impressive, is merely peripheral. That center is, of course, the human heart, or perhaps we might be more particular and say that inner center of human personality, where the very springs of action are conceived. As we study the admittedly incomplete records of that unique life, we shall see that his particular genius lies in concentration upon what is really essential. The deep fundamental problems of human life are really neither intellectual nor technical; they are always in the last resort problems of human relationship. It would seem that Jesus (regarding him for the moment purely as a man of poetic insight) could quite easily disregard the non-essentials, the mere trappings and scenery of human life. His concern was with the quality of human living, and in his eyes aspects of our human life, which appear to us of pressing importance, were of little significance. It might indeed be fair to epitomize his whole attitude in his own famous words "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"

Now this refusal to be influenced by non-essentials never meant in Christ’s life an indifferent pietism. For although it is plain from his life and teaching that he looked upon this life as a prelude to something infinitely more important, yet, where ever it was possible, he restored health of mind and body. He was deeply moved by the strains and distresses of men, by their hunger and thirst and weariness, and he was roused to passionate indignation by the exploitation of the weak. Indeed, he alone of all religious leaders of all time was bold enough to state, as we saw above (see Matthew 25, verses 31 to the end), that love of God must be expressed by love of man, even in his earthly and sordid distresses. For although Christianity is an incurably otherworldly religion and speaks unhesitatingly of sharing the timeless Life of God, it is also devastatingly practical and down to earth. It holds out the highest ideals and promises, and yet faces life with a downright and almost frightening realism. If we regard Christ seriously as God-become-man we shall find his reaction to the life around him extraordinarily illuminating. Yet he offers no explanation of the origin of evil or of human sin and suffering. No doubt he used the language of his own day it would be difficult to know what else he could have done -- but surely there can be no doubt that behind such expressions as "Satan," "the Evil One," "the Prince of this world," "Beelzebub" and "the Devil" there is recognition of the power of evil. His concern was not to explain how such a power came into existence, but to defeat it. It seems probable that we shall have to share this attitude and spend our energies not in discussing the origins of evil, but in defeating it, both in ourselves and in the world around us.

Now I venture to suggest at this point that we need resources outside ourselves to defeat this evil. So long as we cling to the idea that we live in a closed-world-system, the most we do is adjust and rearrange existing forces. But if it is true that spiritual energies of constructive good are really available in a dimension of which we know very little, surely we are very foolish to ignore them. We should know by now that "Satan cannot cast out Satan," and that although force may restrain evil it is powerless to transform it into good. We probably all know from experience that the only quality which has patience and strength enough to redeem either people or situations is the quality of outgoing love, the very thing of which we are all so lamentably short. If, again, we look at God-become-man we find that as a matter of course and of habit he opened his personality to God not merely to be sure that he was following the divine plan of action but to receive potent spiritual reinforcement for the overcoming of evil. If this was necessary for him we might sensibly conclude that it is even more necessary for us. And yet how few, even alas among professing Christians, deliberately and of set purpose draw upon the unseen spiritual resources of God? We are so infected by the prevailing atmosphere of thought, which assumes that nothing can enter our earthly lives from outside, that a great deal of what the New Testament takes for granted does not strike us as realistic or practical. Yet I would suggest that there are discoveries to be made here which would prove far more revolutionary in the solving of human problems than any purely physical marvels.