Fear not, little flock, for it has been the good pleasure of your Father to give you the kingdom.
Jesus has just told His disciples to stop worrying and to seek the kingdom. Now He tells them what the Father plans to give, and the gift is far larger than the worry it answers.
The Lord repeats this command through Scripture, always to people with a real reason to fear. Here the danger is not a storm or a shipwreck but wolves, and the flock has no defence of its own.
"Fear not," said Jesus to the sinner who throws himself at His feet, rebuked in his conscience in the presence of His mighty grace (Luke 5:10). It is the first word of our history. "Fear not," He said to His disciples when the storm rose up, threatening to swallow them (Matt. 14:27). "Fear not," when shipwreck is certain (Acts 27:24). "Fear not," He says to the little defenceless flock surrounded by wolves who have the power to kill the sheep (Luke 12:32; Matt. 10:28; Rev. 2:10).
Believers have always been outnumbered. That fact says nothing about how the Father regards them.
The word "little" does not necessarily mean that it is insignificant. The Christian testimony has always been small compared with the huge number of people who do not believe. Here the Lord calls them a "little flock" — yet the Father's good pleasure is connected with them.
Some read the promise as a prediction that the flock will grow until it wins the world. The wording points the other way: what changes is not the size of the flock but the arrival of its Lord.
The faithful are called a little flock, and at the Lord's return they will receive the kingdom. This is the character of Christ's people until His return. It does not say, "Fear not, little flock, for the people of the earth will soon be converted to you." It does not say, "Fear not, little flock, for all the wolves around you will soon become sheep."
The previous verse tells them to seek. This one drops the command and states a gift.
There is an exhortation to seek in the previous verse; now it is all grace. He wants to establish the hearts of His people in the grace of the Father. It is the Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom; that brings in relationship. It is His delight as the Father to do it… The whole force of the scripture lies in that word "give"; it is the grace of the Father.
The name of the Giver carries its own comfort. Knowing the Father takes away the fear of going without:
He says to them, "Fear not, little flock." Why? "It is your Father's good pleasure" to be a Father to you — for that is the meaning of "to give you the kingdom." That is what takes the fear out of one's heart. I am not afraid of want or care. Why? Because I have my Father, and more than that, my Father knows.
If the Father gives the kingdom, no smaller need is in doubt.
Beloved, if He has good pleasure in giving you the kingdom, do you think He would begrudge you a loaf of bread? Look at the kingdom. It is all that goes with the glory of Christ. It is the scene where the Father's love is known, and where everything will speak of Christ. It is all that belongs to the heavenly place Christ now has, and which He shares with His people.
This promise also changes what they do with what they own.
The Lord now takes higher ground for them… So instead they were to get rid of what they had as men. They were to provide the things the Father gives to the heirs of the kingdom. They were to act the part of kings, called to a higher inheritance and possessing it. The heart follows the treasure. Let them provide a treasure in the heavens, and their heart will be there too.
- Fear — He speaks to a flock with no defence of its own, as in every other "Fear not" He gives to people in real danger.
- Little — small in number, never small in value. The flock does not grow into a crowd; it waits for its Lord.
- Father — the Giver is your Father, and that is what takes the fear out of the heart.
- Given — the kingdom comes as grace, not as a wage. If He gives that, He will not begrudge a loaf of bread.
- Kingdom — all that belongs to the glory Christ now has and shares. Heirs of it can let go here and store their treasure in heaven.
Sell what ye possess and give alms; make to yourselves purses which do not grow old, a treasure which does not fail in the heavens, where thief does not draw near nor moth destroy.
Jesus has just called His followers a little flock and promised them the kingdom. Now He tells them what to do with what they own. Is this meant word for word? And how does anyone hold property that lightly?
The command follows a promise. One writer says that order is what makes it possible.
In Luke 12 we find a similar passage. He first brings in God's care for His people: "Your Father knows that you need them." Only when He has won the heart's loyalty for God does He say, "Sell your possessions." For only now can they afford to do so.
Why give at all? Because a believer is meant to display the God he knows.
If I am established in grace, then I have to become a representative of grace to those around me… Unless I am in the truth of grace I cannot express grace. It is a principle in Scripture that the believer in any age is to reveal God as He is known in that age… He is a giving God; "giving" characterises the day of grace, and we are to be givers too, and so express the heart of God in our contact with people as we pass through this world.
Jesus does not forbid saving. He tells them what kind of bag to use — one no thief and no moth can empty.
He told them to sell what they had… Everything that showed love flowing out to the needy suited them. It was their Father's way with them who were once poor indeed, and they were to keep up the family character. They could provide bags, it is true. But the bags had to be ones that do not wear out, the kind heavenly treasure demands… Nothing is forgotten: "God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for His name." And, what matters too, there is no disappointment with the treasure. No thief approaches it on the one hand, no moth corrupts it on the other.
Nobody makes this exchange unless he already has something better.
He becomes in practice a pilgrim and a stranger. He can part with things here, for he has a treasure in heaven… The world's motto is "Slave, and gather." The Lord's instruction to His own is "Sell, and give." What a difference! But the saint will never do this until he has a treasure in heaven — even Jesus Himself… Moth, rust, and thieves sooner or later sweep away everything we set our hearts on here.
But how does a heart already tied to its things let go? Not by effort, one writer says, but by replacement.
If I have treasure on earth, no matter in what form, my heart will be there also, and I shall be a thoroughly worldly man. How shall I most effectively empty my heart of the world? By getting it filled with Christ… The world has its "barns" and its "bags," where it hoards its "goods." But its barns will fall and its bags will wear out. What will become of the treasure then?
Commentators differ on whether to obey this to the letter. One looks back to the earliest days of the church:
The Lord states the principle of it in Luke 12:33… On the day of Pentecost the believers gave up everything and laid it at the apostles' feet, to be shared equally among all. This did not continue in the later times of the church. But the principle surely remains, and so 1 Timothy 6 urges the rich to do good, to be rich in good works, ready to share, willing to give.
Another warns about those who give away everything at once and then live on other people's support:
Instead of distributing their income as the Lord's stewards, and as He might call for it, they have handed it over to others and taken the place of dependence themselves. The first way is certainly much easier than the second. But which is right? To hold property for Christ and His service in this world, and to give it out as a steward according to His mind — that is a Christian service. And it needs much waiting on the Master.
Why sell at all? One writer points to the Lord's return.
The faithful are called a little flock, and at His return the Lord will give them the kingdom… So they were to get rid of all unnecessary treasure and lay it up in heaven. Their path in this present period was that of a stranger and a pilgrim. The disciple was to stay ready and expectant.
- Given first. The Father promises the kingdom and His care before He asks for anything.
- Given through. God gives, so the believer gives too — and shows others what God is like.
- Given upward. Giving is not loss but transfer. It moves treasure into bags that never wear out, where no thief and no moth can reach it, and where God forgets no work of love.
- Given inward. The heart follows its treasure. Fill it with Christ and the world loses its grip.
- Given back. The little flock travels light. Their Lord is coming back to hand them the kingdom.
For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.
Jesus has just told His followers to sell what they have, give to the needy, and store up treasure in heaven that no thief or moth can touch. Then He gives the reason, and the reason is the heart.
The words describe how people work. Whatever we set our sights on shapes us.
The aim was that their heart should be settled on things above, and it would be so if their treasure were there. A man is always determined by what he seeks, by his objects. If he sets his heart on a degrading object, he is degraded; if on what is noble and generous, his character is raised. So if Christ at the right hand of God attracts him, if heavenly treasure is before his eyes, his heart follows his treasure. He is taken entirely above the power of present things, and they can no longer drag him down.
Notice the exact wording. It closes a door on an excuse many of us keep half-open.
Let us note well that the Lord says, "where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." He does not say, "ought to be," but "will." We cannot escape with the easy claim that our hearts are not tied to what we work hard to pile up. Why, then, accumulate it? We would say of a man heaping up sticks and straws and rubbish that he was a maniac. But to him the worthless pile is valuable, and the surest proof of that is that he keeps piling it up.
The same writer turns this into an opportunity. Swapping worthless paper for good security is what we are free to do. Treasure in heaven keeps the heart there, and draws the feet after it.
The verse never says what the treasure is. Commentators name a Person.
The heart must follow the object of its affection. And Christ, the treasure of the Christian, was not of the earth. He comes from above, from heaven, and above all.
Another writer names the same treasure, then does the arithmetic:
The treasure in the heavens is certainly Christ, and for Him we may wisely "suffer the loss of all things," as Paul put it (Philippians 3:8). For what sensible person would not be willing to lose what he cannot hold anyway, to gain what cannot be lost for eternity?
Some people turn the saying around: my treasure is wherever my heart is. One writer allows a grain of truth in that, then asks what such a treasure is worth.
I know men often say, "Where my heart is, that is where my treasure is." In a certain sense that is true. But even then the treasure is worthless, because it lasts only for a time. Sometimes you find people who have let their hearts go after earthly treasures. What do you find soon after? The treasure is gone, and the heart is left desolate. They have not had a treasure in the heavens.
Since the heart follows the treasure, trying to force affection is working from the wrong end. The way forward is to occupy yourself with the One who is worth loving.
The prayer is often heard, and perhaps offered by ourselves, that our hearts may be set on Christ. But He Himself said, "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Matthew 6:21). So if our hearts are not occupied with Him, it is because we do not treasure Him enough. If, then, we would have our hearts detached from this scene and its objects, we must begin with Christ. We must trace out His many perfections, His varied beauties, His indescribable grace and unchanging love. Then our hearts will be drawn towards Him.
The very next thing Jesus says is about belts fastened and lamps burning (verse 35). The order is not accidental.
There is a clear connection between that statement and what follows… Let me say at once that if your treasure is on earth, your belt will not be fastened and your lamp will not be burning. It is impossible. You absolutely must have your treasure in heaven if you want to be found waiting for the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ.
- Treasure first. The heart does not lead; it follows. Whatever you value most has already decided where your heart lives.
- "Will," not "ought." Jesus states a fact, not an ideal. What you keep piling up proves what you prize, whatever you tell yourself.
- Christ is the treasure. The heavenly treasure is a Person at God's right hand. Losing what you cannot keep, to gain what cannot be lost, is plain good sense.
- Move the treasure, not the heart. You cannot command affection into existence. Occupy yourself with Christ's grace and love, and the heart follows on its own.
- Then you can watch. Belts fastened and lamps burning are impossible while the treasure is here. Heavenly treasure is what makes a person ready for the Lord's return.
Let your loins be girded about, and lamps burning;
The picture is a household at night: servants dressed for work, lamps lit, ready for their master's return. Jesus has just spoken about treasure in heaven. Now He shows what a heart set there looks like after dark.
Commentators tie the command to the verses just before it, where the only safe wealth is wealth kept out of reach.
In Luke 12 this truth is put more broadly: "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." It is tied not only to the warning that nothing is safe except a treasure in the heavens, but also to the Lord's coming as a hope close at hand. It would be hard to imagine words more clearly showing the call to be constantly looking out for Him.
The image comes from clothing. Long robes were tied up out of the way when a person meant to move.
The opening words point back to their ancestors at the first Passover, who ate with belts fastened and staff in hand — a people shielded from God's judgment, leaving the house of slavery in haste. The Lord used the same picture here, along with others, to impress on His disciples that they were travellers passing through, waiting for His coming. They were not to take their ease. They were to be constantly ready to do His will earnestly. That is what their loins being girded means. When hard work was needed, people tucked their garments up instead of letting them hang loose, so nothing got in the way. So He would have our hearts engaged now, with no wandering affections and no distraction of mind.
Loose garments have an inward counterpart, and holding them in costs something.
You must not let your garments hang loose. That is, you must not let your thoughts and affections spread abroad. This is not rest, for it is an exceedingly tiring thing to sit up and watch through a long dark night. But in the spirit of service the heart, affections, thoughts, feelings, and desires must all be tied up. And this takes real effort, so that the flesh does not go its own way. It is sometimes a great comfort to let it, even for a moment — but if we do, we shall surely fall asleep like the virgins in Jesus' story.
You only need a lamp in the dark. So the lamp here tells us what time it is.
The lights burning show that it is night — the night of the Lord's absence. At night the tendency is to loosen your belt and go to sleep. Spiritually we must not do that. The girded loins and the burning light mean readiness to move at the word of the Lord. There must be no scrambling and scurrying when He comes.
The lamp is not the believer's own brightness. Others trace it back to its source, and to the order in which it works.
The "lights" in this verse and elsewhere in Scripture always mean Christ. They mean Christ shining out through the life of the believer, in the power of the Holy Spirit. When He was in this scene Christ was the light of the world; and in His absence believers take that same place. But they only answer to it so far as Christ shows in their walk and ways. We must have Christ inside before He can show through us. The light must be within before it can shine out into the darkness around us.
Everyone in the story agreed the master was returning. What the Lord asks for is something more.
The coming of the Lord is not just one special doctrine. It is what ought to mark the Christian, and it did mark him at the start. It is not just the fact that He will come again; every person who calls himself a Christian believes that. It is the present expectation of the Lord that marks the Christian. The same happened with the virgins: they all fell asleep. They had not given up the truth, but it stopped being a present expectation.
Elsewhere in Luke the Lord gives events to watch for. Here He gives none.
It is not prophecy, but character and position. In Luke 17 and 21 there are signs and events in history for people on earth. Here there are none; here there is heavenly separation from the earth. They were therefore left in uncertainty, and so the church, when formed, was left. The church is always to wait for Christ, having no set time: every moment is its time in desire and in duty.
The verse asks servants to be dressed and ready. Two verses later the roles reverse, and one writer insists this is not the language of wages.
What is this? Reward under God's government? Not in the least. It is grace and nothing else. The Lord coming forth to serve us! Have we any claim to this? We? Certainly not. It is a deeper blessedness. People like us have the Lord, the Son of God, serving them in the fullness of His grace.
- Treasure — the belt follows the treasure. A heart stored in heaven keeps the eyes open for Him.
- Belt — girding means tucking up loose robes for work. Inside, it means holding in thoughts and affections instead of letting them wander.
- Lamp — the lamp proves it is night, the night of His absence. The light itself is Christ, shining out through a life that has Him.
- Watch — believing He will return is not the same as expecting Him now. The virgins never denied the truth. They just stopped looking.
- Reversal — the servant watches through the night. In the end the Master serves him. That is grace, not payment.
and *ye* like men who wait their own lord whenever he may leave the wedding, that when he comes and knocks, they may open to him immediately.
Here the Lord tells His disciples how to live while they wait for Him. He pictures household servants inside the door at night, listening for their master's knock. What does that waiting look like?
Believing that Christ will return is not the same as looking for Him. This hope does not depend on a timetable:
Look at Luke 12:35-36. The Christian hope is quite independent of times and seasons. It is Christ coming in person, and it is exactly the same now as when the first disciples waited for Him from heaven. Prophecy may confirm our hope, but it is quite different in its nature. So a Christian who knows nothing of prophecy might be overflowing with hope by the power of the Spirit. He waits for Christ as a true servant waits for his master's return, ready to open the door the moment he hears the knock.
What the Lord asks for is affection fixed on a person, and the test of it is simple.
But the Lord wants us to be like men who wait for their Lord. Are our hearts really waiting for God's Son from heaven? I am not talking about understanding the prophecies — very blessed in their place — but the Morning Star is what belongs to us, a heavenly Christ who has given His life for us. The character that belongs to the Christian is that of watching. It is not understanding prophecy; it is attachment to Christ, having received the promise that He is coming, so that we are waiting for Him. Such people have found Christ precious to them, and they say, "Oh, that He would come!"
The force of the verse lies in two words: at once. A servant who must first get ready was not waiting.
Think of servants who do not know when their master will come back from the wedding. They stand waiting inside the house, with their hand as it were on the door, ready to throw it open at the first sign of his approach. In the same way, believers should keep up the constant expectation of their Lord's coming, while also taking care that they are morally ready.
The two commands of the previous verse are what make instant opening possible. The girded loins clear away what would trip a servant up; the lit lamp declares whose servant he is.
This is another grand point. He is linked with joy, and they are to be free from every earthly hindrance. So the moment the Lord knocks, in the terms of the figure, they can open to Him at once — with no distraction, and with nothing to get ready. Their hearts are waiting for Him, for their Lord; they love Him, they are waiting for Him. He knocks, and they open to Him at once.
Readers often ask whether this wedding points to some future event:
The return from the wedding in verse 36 does not apply to our Lord. It is only an illustration. The comparison shows the fitting attitude for those who are waiting for Christ to return for His people. So the figure of the wedding is not teaching us anything about future events. The passage presses one point only: be ready for the Lord's return, and keep expecting it.
The figure still does real work. It sets the mood of the waiting:
The return from the wedding feast was the best possible figure the Lord could use. It is a shared occasion of festive joy, yet the night may be more or less spent. As a figure it expresses a duty that suits His loving fellowship. It is filled with bright joy, and it shuts out every association of judgment and sadness. What could be more fitting? What could so well draw out the warm affections of the servants to their own Lord?
One change of heart undoes all of this:
They did not know when He would come, but they still waited for Him. What has ruined the church morally is this: she stopped looking for the Lord and said, "My master is delayed."
- Waiting — the verse asks for more than believing Christ will come. It asks for hearts set on His return tonight.
- Free — a heart free from every earthly hindrance has nothing left to arrange when the knock comes.
- At once — the servant's hand is already on the door. Readiness that still needs time is not readiness.
- Joy — the master comes home from a wedding. The scene is one of welcome, not dread or judgment.
- Delay — once the heart says "my master is delayed," the watching stops. Keeping the expectation alive keeps the servant faithful.
Blessed are those bondmen whom the lord [on] coming shall find watching; verily I say unto you, that he will gird himself and make them recline at table, and coming up will serve them.
A master comes home late from a wedding feast. The servants who stayed awake get his blessing. Then the picture turns over: the master serves them. Two questions follow. What does this watching involve? And how can the Master serve those who serve Him?
The blessing does not rest on knowing the doctrine. It rests on a heart that is looking for Him.
The blessing is not in holding the doctrine of the Lord's coming: it rests on those who are watching. They must be girded and have their lights bright while He is away, and watch for His return. Then He makes them sit down to eat, and girds Himself, and comes out and serves them. Now they must be girded and watch; our rest is not here. But, says the Lord, when I have things all My own way, you shall sit down to eat, and I will gird Myself and come out and serve you. I will make you enjoy all the best that I have in heaven, and I will minister it to you: only be found watching.
Being ready and being expectant are not the same thing.
Both have their place, but watching means expectancy — the heart is engaged. A servant might be quite ready for his master's return, just obeying a command. But if he is watching, it shows that his master's return is filling his thoughts. With the Christian the two must go together. If the heart is not right towards the Lord, the belt will come loose and the light will grow dim.
Which matters more to the Lord — busy service, or waiting for Him?
The blessing here is the watching — not so much working as watching, not so much occupation with others as watching for Him. Watching comes even before working. There is no doubt that working has real value, and the Lord will remember it and reward it. But watching is far more bound up with His person and with His love.
Does the wedding in this picture point to a set future event? One commentator says no.
I do not take this mention of returning from the wedding as prophecy. I take it as moral teaching, in keeping with Luke's usual style. It is meant to present no aspect of judgment, but of joy... They were to be free from everything on earth that ties them down. Then the moment the Lord knocks, in the terms of the picture, they can open to Him at once — without distraction or having to get ready.
Now the roles switch. The servants sit down, and the Master serves them.
Christ will serve us in the kingdom. He will serve us forever. His ministry overlaps our entire history. It reaches down to the very deepest depths of our need as sinners, and up to the very highest heights of the glory. He loves to serve us. And He gives us this assurance: the very moment He enters on the glory of His own kingdom, He will gratify His loving heart by making us sit down in the very brightness of that glory. There He will serve us in the same love that has marked His service from the very first.
The table and the seating are read as imagery, and the imagery carries a promise about what will never end.
He spreads the table for them in heaven, and then He sets them down at it. He spreads it with the best things of heaven; and not only that, He comes Himself and ministers to them... Of course, it is only a figure, to show us that He will never cease to minister the fullest blessedness to His own.
The act of girding is a sign, and it reaches back to a servant in Exodus 21.
The girdle is the sign of service... He took the form of a bondservant when He became man, and He will never lay it aside. He was not only the untiring servant of all in the days of His humiliation. Like the Hebrew servant of Exodus 21, He had purposed to be a servant forever. So He ministers on our behalf in the heavenly sanctuary while we travel here on earth. And Luke 12:37 tells us this: when He gets His waiting ones home, it will be His joy to gird Himself, seat them at the table, and come and serve them.
A few verses later comes a second blessing, given to a faithful steward. The two are not the same.
It is the position of one called to be faithful and wise as a steward... Still, it does not have to carry the closeness of personal affection that continual watching for Him implies... "Truly, I say to you, he will set him over all his possessions." That is not the return of His love so much as the post of honour in His kingdom. Both are "blessed"; but the heart ought to need little light to see which of the two is better.
- Watch, don't just agree. The blessing rests on those looking for Him, not on those who only know the truth of His coming.
- Watching is affection. Readiness obeys an order; watching shows the Master fills the servant's thoughts — and it comes even before working.
- The wedding is joy. The scene points to joy, not judgment, and calls for hearts free enough to open the door at once.
- The Master serves. His ministry spans our whole history, from our deepest need as sinners to the heights of glory.
- He is Servant forever. He took the servant's place when He became man, like the Hebrew servant of Exodus 21, and He will never lay it aside.
And if he come in the second watch, and come in the third watch, and find [them] thus, blessed are those [bondmen].
Jesus has just told His followers to stay dressed for action with their lamps burning. Now He names the middle watches of the night, and raises the question every generation faces: what happens to watchfulness when the wait drags on?
The night ran in four fixed periods of guard duty. One explanation looks at why the Lord names the middle two and skips the first and the last:
Van Oosterzee says: "The Romans divided the night into four night-watches, and the Jews had taken this division from them... He says nothing of the fourth watch, for one reason only. The disciples were to learn from that that they must not expect His return as late as possible. He does not name the first watch either, because that would weaken the whole picture of the watchful servants. The coming does not happen as fast as impatience expects, nor as late as carelessness supposes. It comes in the very middle of the night, when the temptation to fall asleep is great and so must be fought hardest."
The same blessing covers two different watches. One writer takes that as advance warning that the wait may be long:
In the parable of the servants waiting for their Lord's return from the wedding, the parable teaches the same general lesson of watchfulness. But it adds another element of great importance: a caution about the uncertainty and possible distance of the time... What is this but a hint that while the watch ought to be constant it might be drawn out? ... this parable warns us against letting our watchfulness slip, or growing careless because the expected coming has not yet taken place... In the Letter of James, those who suffer are told to look for the Lord's coming, but also that the watch may require "long patience." So it is here; but the blessing of faithfulness is all the greater. The warning against careless watching is just as strong in the third watch as in the first, and so is the promise of reward for diligence.
If both watches bring the same blessing, no one can fix the hour. That is the point:
Think what a joy it is that this apostolic hope is ours today, just as much as the apostolic faith and fellowship, if anyone has ears to hear. "If he comes in the second watch, or in the third, and finds them awake, blessed are those servants!" It is clear then that expecting the Lord at a distant and fixed moment is not what He presses on us. The object is that His servants should always be on the watch.
One writer holds two motives together: love, which makes the delay worth bearing, and conscience, which the same coming reaches:
If He does tarry, and the heart that loves Him finds it long and has need of patience, it is well worth waiting for Him, whatever the delay... At the same time, it is important to add the aspect of His coming for the conscience. The return from the wedding does not present this... Present ease and unwatchfulness in such a world as this always make the return of the Lord more or less unwelcome. The only right attitude for love or conscience is the attitude of watching for Him.
The opposite of watching is the settled assumption that there is time to spare. One writer traces the church's decline to exactly that:
Christ had marked the Church's unfaithfulness by the servants saying, "My lord delays his coming." Paul did not fall into this. The Lord at the same time prophetically declared that, while the bridegroom tarried (no one knew how long), the virgins would slumber and sleep. He has tarried, and the early expectation of the Church has been lost. It went to sleep. Its worldliness and corruption and the loss of this expectation went on together.
Waiting, watching and working are not the same thing. One writer separates them:
To be waiting indicates readiness. To be watching shows expectation. To be working is a sign of faithfulness to a charge. And the servants of the Lord are to be ready, expectant, and faithful in view of His coming again.
That call is not limited to the first hearers.
May we hear His voice to us in these encouraging words, and not only wait for Him, but watch; for He said, "What I say to you I say to all: Stay awake." (Mark 13:37)
- Watch — the night ran in guard shifts. Naming the middle two shows He comes neither as fast as impatience wants nor as late as carelessness assumes.
- Wait — the second watch and the third carry the same blessing, so a long delay takes nothing from the reward; faithfulness through it counts all the more.
- Watch on — no hour is fixed, so the task is not working out a date but standing ready, expectant and faithful at every hour.
- Wake — love makes the wait worth it, and the same coming wakes a conscience grown comfortable in an easy world.
- Sleep — the one ruin to fear is the heart that says the master is delayed. Worldliness and lost expectation came in with it.
But this know, that if the master of the house had known in what hour the thief was coming, he would have watched, and not have suffered his house to be dug through.
The Lord has just described a master coming home from a wedding, met by servants who open the door at once. Now He pictures a thief breaking into a house — the same arrival, a very different welcome, and everything turns on one thing nobody has: the hour.
The verse turns on something that never happened. Nobody gets warning of a break-in.
The Lord has a word on the other side, where the servant has somehow become "the master of the house," and the coming of the Son of Man is like the unwelcome visit of a thief. Such a person needs to remember that the thief does not come at an expected hour, or perhaps the house would not have been dug through. "If he had known" only presses the fact that he does not know.
Older translations read "dug through" where the ESV has "broken into."
Commentators read the shift from "servant" to "master of the house" as deliberate. The man is no longer waiting for someone; he is settled at home, defending his own property.
Verse 39 speaks differently. Instead of a servant, we read of the master of the house, the ruler, and the Lord's coming is likened to the visit of a thief. He does not come as a thief to the Church, but to the world (1 Thess. 5:2-4). The man here had lost his servant character, and was really part of an ungodly world, whatever his profession might have been… Luke is not concerned with the time element, but with the reality of the Lord's coming, whether to reward watchfulness or to judge the careless.
The wedding picture speaks to the heart that loves Him. This one speaks to the conscience.
If He does tarry, and the heart that loves Him finds it long and has need of patience, it is well worth waiting for Him, whatever the delay… At the same time, it is important to add the aspect of His coming for the conscience. The return from the wedding does not present this… Present ease and unwatchfulness in such a world as this always make the return of the Lord to be more or less unwelcome. The only right attitude for love or conscience is the attitude of watching for Him.
The same thief picture turns up in 1 Thessalonians, where the apostle rules it out for believers. His reason is not that they watch better. It is that they belong to the day.
The words "they" and "you" make it still clearer that the day of the Lord is for the world. He does not say "When you shall say, Peace and safety" but when "they shall say." The apostle excludes the believer completely from that day when sudden destruction falls, for he says, "you are not in darkness, brothers, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all children of light, children of the day. We are not of the night or of the darkness"… therefore belonging to that coming day to be with the Lord when He comes to judge, it cannot overtake them as a thief.
Still, the warning is not wasted on believers. One writer shows what this picture does for the watcher: it starts low, then lifts higher.
Look at Matthew 24:43, and you will see how well the mind of Christ trains the soul in watching for His coming. How graciously He begins! At first He gives our watching a very low character. The master of the house watches against the coming of "a thief in the night." This shows the duty in its very lowest form. It pictures us watching for His return as though it were something against us, an object of dread and worry. The mind of Christ meets us here on very low ground, but it does not leave us here; it trains our hearts to reach a much higher level, raises our watching to a finer character, and gives higher beauty to the same features.
The break-in is not the end of the story. When the Son of Man arrives, He deals with the intruder — and the faithful servant meanwhile has one limited job.
Therefore not only watch, for you do not know the hour your Lord comes, but also be ready, for in the hour you do not think the Son of Man comes — to destroy the thief and restore His house. Meanwhile all the faithful servant can do is to give the household food in season. He cannot repair the damage to the house.
- Unknown — nobody knows the hour. "If he had known" only presses the point that he does not know.
- Unwatched — the owner is robbed because he is at ease. Present ease and unwatchfulness make the Lord's return unwelcome.
- Unwelcome — the thief picture fits a man who has lost his servant character and belongs to the world. To children of the day His coming is no break-in.
- Unfinished — the servant cannot repair the house. He feeds the household in season and leaves the restoring to his Lord.
- Upward — Christ starts our watching at its lowest form, dread, and then trains it into something finer.
And ye therefore, be *ye* ready, for in the hour in which ye do not think [it], the Son of man comes.
Jesus has just pictured a householder who would have stayed awake if he had known when the thief was coming. Then He turns the picture on His hearers. The command is not to calculate the hour but to live in a condition where any hour would be fine.
The verse gives its own reason for readiness: no one can time the arrival. Men mishandle that fact in two opposite ways.
That uncertainty was arranged to keep men always expecting. It is remarkable that men have taken it and used it as a reason for not expecting at all.
The opposite error is trying to pin down the date. One writer answers it from the Lord's own words to His closest followers.
Setting dates for the coming of the Lord is a harmful thing, and those who do it are presumptuous people... The apostles gave us the Word of God by the Holy Spirit's inspiration. Yet the Lord said to them, "It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by His own authority" (Acts 1). The Father in His wisdom kept this knowledge from them. So where is there any hint in the Word that He would reveal it to us?
Jesus names Himself here as "the Son of Man." Commentators tie that title to His coming in judgment on the world, not to His coming for the Church.
He does not come as a thief to the Church, but to the world (1 Thess. 5:2-4)... What the Lord said in verse 40 is clearly connected with verse 39. His coming as the Son of Man is His coming to the world in judgment, and it will be at an unexpected hour. Of course, no one knows when He will come for the Church either. But that coming is not unexpected, and we are to be watching!
One writer watched two passengers reach the same harbour on the same ship. The arrival meant opposite things to them.
For the bride, the end of the voyage meant hopes realised: a husband, gladness and home. For the criminal, it meant a judge, conviction, and punishment to follow.
"Be ready" raises the obvious question: ready how? One writer says it covers two things, resting on two different works.
First, we must be "ready" in title; and secondly, we must be ready in our moral state — ready in conscience, and ready in heart. The one is founded on the work of Christ for us; the other is connected with the work of the Spirit in us. Suppose we are simply resting by faith on the finished work of Christ. Suppose we are leaning only on what He has done and what He is. Then we are ready in title indeed, and we may be sure of being with Him when He comes.
The same writer answers a common plea: that outward things do not matter.
Some may say — and some have said — "As long as we have Christ in our hearts, it doesn't matter what we have on our heads or in our hands." We reply: if we really have Christ in our hearts, it will regulate what we put on our heads and take into our hands. Yes, it will have a visible influence on our whole behaviour and character.
Readiness is measurable by a simple test: would today be a good day for Him to arrive? One writer put that question to a dinner guest.
"Would you like the Lord Jesus to return today?" "No," she said, "I would not." "And why not?" "Well," she said, "I have many things to settle up first; there are many things I would not like Him to see. I would rather He did not come today." Well, the Lord says, "You also must be ready." That means everything settled up. It means living as real pilgrims and strangers, passing through this world with nothing to hold us here. And why? Because our hearts are on Him where He is now.
How a person feels about His return exposes how that person has been living.
Ease and lack of watching in a world like this always make the Lord's return more or less unwelcome. The only right attitude, whether for love or for conscience, is the attitude of watching for Him.
- Hidden by design. The unknown hour keeps believers expecting. It is no excuse for drifting, and no invitation to set dates.
- Ready in title. Rest on the finished work of Christ alone. That settles your standing before He comes.
- Ready in state. What is in the heart shows up in the hands, the habits and the whole character.
- Ready means settled. Nothing you would rather He did not see; a pilgrim with nothing holding him here.
- Ready is love's posture. When love is real, conscience agrees. Watching becomes natural, not a strain.