Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them, think ye that *they* were debtors beyond all the men who dwell in Jerusalem?
A tower in Siloam fell and killed eighteen people. No soldier and no politics were involved — just falling stone. Jesus raises this case Himself. His question is not "why did it happen?" It is "what does this prove about the dead, and what does it ask of the living?"
People first told Jesus about a massacre. He answers that, then points to a second case where no human hand played any part. One writer notes the step from one to the other:
In answer, our Lord corrects their thought that these people were especially guilty. He warns them solemnly that unless they repented they would all perish in the same way. More than that, He points to the eighteen men on whom the tower of Siloam fell. No cruel and brutal Roman killed them. Yet were they debtors beyond all the men in Jerusalem? On the contrary He repeats, "unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." This is God's voice to sinful man in the present disorder of the world. Man is no fit judge of this tangled scene. But such events call him loudly to judge himself before God — in short, to repent.
Readers often ask what this tower was and why it fell.
Nothing is known of the falling of this tower except what the Scripture states in Luke 13:4.
Some translations render the word as "debtors," people who owed God more than their neighbours. One writer shows that Jesus does not soften the charge against these eighteen. He changes the whole basis of the argument:
Note that the Lord says not a word about them to lessen the thought of evil in them: that is not the point. On the contrary, make of it as much as possible — the lesson is only deeper. For the question is not, were they sinners beyond others? but, does the hand of God upon them prove them to be that? And if they had not been such, could they have claimed to be free from God's judgment on that ground? And to this He answers, No: judgment from God, and even to perdition, will come upon all, unless they repent. Admitting the ruin we all share alike is what throws us, as sinners, on unfailing mercy. It brings us out from under judgment — this, and this alone.
If sudden death marked out the worst sinners, the world would be a readable ledger. It is not, because God is not settling accounts yet:
The consequences of sin are not known yet. God is saving now, not judging in righteousness. There is a time coming when He will rule in righteousness. He is saving souls now for a better state hereafter... We cannot judge people's state of soul by their circumstances. We cannot say that those on whom the tower of Siloam fell were worse than everyone else living in Jerusalem.
The people brought Jesus the news of the day. A commentator reads the motive behind that kind of conversation:
There are quite a few today who are very fond of talking about other great sinners. When a person does this, it is a sure sign of a deceived heart. By telling of the sins of others, he is only showing how much better he thinks himself to be than they are.
So the Lord's answer looks past the victims entirely:
Those events had a voice for the living, and concerned not only the dead.
The warning "you will all likewise perish" fell on a whole nation. History caught up with it:
They were not finally condemned as sinners here. This was God's judgment in His government of this world, and it would overtake them all unless they repented. God had sent out His judgment and caught these Galileans, and would catch the Jews also unless they repented. For not only Pilate but God's Son was there, and they were in practice rejecting Him. And how many of the Jews had their blood mingled with their sacrifices when the Roman general Titus destroyed Jerusalem!
- Two deaths, one lesson. Pilate's killings and a falling tower had nothing in common in cause. Jesus draws the same conclusion from both. How a person died says nothing about who they were.
- The wrong question. "Were they worse than others?" assumes disaster measures guilt. Jesus replaces it: does God's hand falling on some prove that the rest are exempt? No.
- No ledger yet. God is saving now, not judging in righteousness. So no one can read a person's circumstances as a scoreboard of their standing with Him.
- The talk that exposes us. Talking about other people's ruin is a quiet claim that we are better than them. The Lord turns the news of the day back on the listener's conscience.
- The only escape. Admitting the ruin we all share throws us on mercy. Those who would not repent saw the warning come true when Jerusalem fell.
No, I say to you, but if ye repent not, ye shall all perish in like manner.
The second disaster Jesus names is a fall, not a massacre — eighteen people crushed under a tower at Siloam, a pool in Jerusalem. People brought both stories to Him as news about other people's guilt, and both times He turned the question back on them with the same warning, word for word.
The crowd assumed that a violent death exposed unusual sin. One writer separates two very different questions, and then points to the only way out.
He does not leave the answer to others; He answers it Himself, in the same way as before... The question is not, were they sinners beyond others? It is this: does God's hand falling on them prove that they were? And if they had not been such sinners, could they have claimed exemption from God's judgment on that ground? To this He answers, No: judgment from God, and even to final ruin, will come on all, unless they repent... Owning the ruin we are all alike in is what casts us, as sinners, on unfailing mercy and brings us out from under judgment: this, and this alone.
The first story was about Galileans, at a distance from Jerusalem. The second lands closer.
They had spoken of Galileans; He reminds them of a case nearer home — men of Jerusalem, eighteen of whom had died some time before when a tower in Siloam fell on them... That a special disaster struck Galileans, or men of Jerusalem, is not what is most serious before God, nor what touches man's danger and best interests most closely. What Jesus shows is the certain ruin of all who do not repent.
Reading the news is not the same as hearing God in it. One writer notes that these tragedies "had a voice for the living, and concerned not only the dead" (C. E. Stuart).
The word asks for more than regret. One writer, on this very sentence, marks off what the Lord was not asking for and what He was.
When the Lord said, "Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish," He did not mean believing a free gospel. He meant judging themselves and their sins, with a heart turned to God.
The same writer tests a familiar definition: "the definition that it is merely change of mind is not enough... it is the soul judging itself before God — the eye turned inward, not outward" (J. N. Darby).
Commentators differ on what is mainly in view. Some read it as God's dealing with the nation in this world. They point to what happened a generation later, when Roman armies destroyed Jerusalem.
They were not finally condemned as sinners here. This was judgment in God's government of this world, and it would overtake them all unless they repented. God had sent out His judgment and caught these Galileans, and He would catch the Jews too unless they repented. Pilate was there, but so was God's Son, and they were in fact rejecting Him. And how many of the Jews had their blood mingled with their sacrifices by Titus in the destruction of Jerusalem!
Others take the word "perish" at its full weight.
"You will." If someone keeps refusing to repent and rests in mere outward religion, there is no hope for the future: the soul must "perish." What a dreadful thought that dreadful word "perish" carries. It means all is lost — lost forever! The soul perished, hope perished, everything perished forever, body, soul, and spirit, in the place of misery.
The warning is not the last word. Jesus goes straight on to the picture of a fig tree with no fruit.
He does grant that there was a time of delay. In fact it was He Himself, the Lord Jesus, who had pleaded for a further trial. If after this the fig tree still bore no fruit, it must be cut down. And so it happened: judgment came after grace, not law.
- Others — We want to measure the guilt of people hit by disaster. God's hand falling on them proves nothing about how they compare with anyone else.
- Yourself — Such events carry a voice for the living, not just a verdict on the dead. Turn the eye inward.
- All — Galileans and people of Jerusalem stand alike, and so does everyone else. Ruin is certain for all who do not repent.
- Repent — Not just agreeing with a message, and not just regret. It is judging yourself and your sins, with the heart turned to God — and owning the ruin we all share is what casts us on unfailing mercy.
- Now — Commentators read "perish" as the judgment that fell on the nation, and as the soul's final loss. Either way, the time left is a respite Christ pleaded for, not a permanent stay.