To whom therefore shall I liken the men of this generation, and to whom are they like?
The Lord has just praised John the Baptist, and now He turns to the crowd that heard both John and Himself. He asks what this generation is like, because it had refused God's message in two very different tones.
Some older Bibles open this verse with "And the Lord said." Later copyists added those words. Drop them, and you can see that the Lord is still speaking without a break.
In Luke 7:31 the Revisers are right to drop the false words that begin the verse, along with other small additions that have no proper support. Copyists put them there because they did not see that verses 29 and 30 are an aside by the writer of the Gospel, and that the Lord carries on from the end of verse 28.
The question has a purpose. After defending His servant, the Lord turns to the listeners themselves.
After defending His servant, He also wanted to reach the consciences of His hearers... He answers His own question with a picture of children playing in the market who do not react to any tune.
Commentators differ over how wide the phrase reaches. Kelly notes that some limit it to one group:
"This generation." Meyer, Hofmann and Hahn take this to mean the Pharisees.
Others take it as a description of the whole crowd, not just one party:
The Lord used a question to stir the interest of the people. He asked what He might compare with "the people of this generation" — that is, a generation of self-righteous men.
The Lord compares them to children playing games in the place where adults do serious business.
They were merely like children in the middle of the serious business going on around them, idling away their time by mocking the realities of life. They trifled in their pleasure, they trifled with sorrow... They would have had John dance to their piping, and Jesus and His disciples beat their breasts to their idle dirge.
Notice who gives the orders in this picture. These people expected God's messengers to dance to their tune. They would not answer God's call.
Two very different messages came. John came with strict demands. Jesus came with grace. The crowd refused both, for opposite reasons.
They were equally displeased with John and with Jesus, content with neither law nor grace. People do not like righteousness — that is too strict for them; and they do not like grace — that is too free. They would have part of one and part of the other.
The problem was never the form of the message. Whatever way God spoke, this crowd found an excuse to refuse it.
It would be easy to treat this verse as old history about other people. One writer will not let us.
In verse 31 He looks at the generation and says, "Now what are you like?" ... In substance He says, "We have come to you, children of the marketplace, both piping and lamenting, and you have neither danced nor wept." God's hand is very skilful in touching the instrument, but He cannot get a single note of music in return. That is you and me, dear reader, for the Lord is describing our common nature. God's finger has touched the instrument in every possible way, and He can get no answer. "Nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh."
The Lord does not stop at the charge. He ends with wisdom justified by her children, and Luke gives a living example next.
The one was too strict, the other too free. The gladness of the one and the sorrowful strain of the other were both disdained. But the Lord adds, "wisdom is justified by all her children." Then the Spirit adds the beautiful account that illustrates this. The woman who was a sinner is the contrast to the unwise generation, and enters the family of Wisdom.
- Question — The Lord keeps speaking from verse 28. Verses 29–30 are the writer's aside, and later copyists added the opening "And the Lord said."
- Childishness — The picture is children playing in a marketplace. They want God's messengers to dance to their tune instead of listening to His.
- Both tunes — God played two tunes, law through John and grace through Christ. This generation refused both: one too strict, one too free.
- Mirror — God's finger touched the instrument in every possible way and drew no note back. That is our common nature, not one nation's fault.
- Response — Wisdom is justified by her children. Luke's next scene shows one: a woman known as a sinner, the opposite of a generation that would not answer.
They are like children sitting in the market-place, and calling one to another and saying, We have piped to you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not wept.
Jesus has just been speaking about John the Baptist and the people who refused his call. Now He compares this generation to children at play, sulking because no one joins their game, and He asks what would ever satisfy them.
The sting of the picture is in its setting.
They were children — childish and immature. They sat about in the marketplace, the place where people do serious business. They complained that no one had danced to their music, and that no one had wept to the tune of their mournful song.
One writer names the game they were playing.
They were nothing more than children in the middle of the serious business going on around them. They idled away their time in mocking the realities of life. They trifled in their pleasure, and they trifled with sorrow — even with the sorrow that lay on man for his sins. They would have had John dance to their piping, and Jesus and His disciples beat their breasts to their idle funeral song.
The two tunes stand for two ministries. God sent one messenger in severity and one in kindness. The generation had an objection ready for each.
They were like the young people in a marketplace, who oppose each other in every possible way. No dancing when one pipes, no weeping when one wails. So it was here. God sent John the Baptist in a way of strict self-denial and outward separation, keeping apart even from the ordinary food of men, and they slandered him. God sent the Son of Man in the way of the most familiar love, and they mocked Him as well as insulted Him. The one was too strict, the other too free.
The complaint was never about the messengers' manner. Another writer traces the same spirit back to the youths who jeered at Elisha:
They did not want to hear of God's rights or of their rebellion. They were glad when Elijah left for heaven, and they wanted Elisha to go too. They did not want to hear of the goodness of God either. It was just as distasteful to them as His righteous claims. They did not want God in any way.
Commentators differ over who is piping in the picture. One writer hears God's own appeal in it — and the picture then reaches past that one generation.
He says that God's finger has touched the instrument in every possible way, and He can get no answer. The hand of God is very skilful in touching the instrument, but He cannot get one single note of music in return. That is you and me, dear friends, for the Lord is describing our common nature.
So why could neither tune reach them? One writer points to the conscience.
Having refused the lesser testimony, they never passed on to the greater things — the reality from God. Their own consciences ought to have proved it true. Because they refused it, they were not ready to receive the gift of His grace. A person receives Christ to salvation only in the conscience. Feeling and understanding will never do on their own. There must be conscience.
Not everyone in that crowd refused. Some had already owned God's verdict on themselves.
They bowed to God's testimony through John the Baptist. They agreed that God was righteous in condemning their sins. Many confessed their sins and took their place in the Jordan. And so they also received the grace of God in the person of Christ with deep gratitude. They declared it right when many condemned it. In this way they showed themselves to be the children of wisdom.
One writer leaves the crowd's fault-finding as a question for today:
Nothing was right, or fitting, in their eyes. Has that generation become extinct?
- The scene. Children idle in a marketplace where adults do serious business. They make a game of life's real joys and sorrows while God is calling.
- The tunes. The dirge is John's severity; the flute is the grace that came in Christ. God played both, so no one could say His appeal came in only one key.
- The excuse. They called John too strict and Jesus too free. Their quarrel was not with the messenger but with the God who sent him.
- The diagnosis. Refuse the smaller testimony and you never reach the greater gift. It is the conscience that receives Christ, not feeling or understanding on their own.
- The exception. Wisdom's children moved to both tunes. They owned God's verdict against themselves at the Jordan, then welcomed His grace in Christ.
For John the baptist has come neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and ye say, He has a demon.
Here Jesus describes how His generation answered God's messengers. He starts with John the Baptist, whose plain diet matched his plain message — and whose reward was the charge that a demon was behind it.
John's separation was literal. A Nazarite was someone under a vow of strict separation from ordinary comforts.
John the Baptist was a literal Nazarite. He was a man who abstained from all kinds of things. "He came neither eating nor drinking," and the compliment he got was that he had a demon. The Son of Man came eating and drinking. He was a Man with men.
Kelly explains why God sent a messenger who would not share a table.
When John the Baptist came, eating no bread and drinking no wine, that showed there was no fellowship, because sin was in question. How could God send someone to have fellowship with sin? So they said he had a demon.
The accusation was not random. It grew directly out of the distance John kept from the people he preached to.
John the Baptist came requiring fruit and calling people to repentance. The tax collectors and sinners justified God in this. The axe lay at the root of the trees; these poor sinners admitted it and repented. They justified God. The first good fruit is always the admission that we produce bad fruit… John was so strict he would not even eat with anyone. He could have nothing to say to these sinners. That was why they said, "He has a demon."
God sent a stern voice first, then a gracious one. The same generation turned down both.
John the Baptist they did not like: he was too strict for them. Then came the Son of Man, the Saviour Himself. They called Him by even worse names: He was too loose for them. So it does not matter what testimony God gives — man always has some reason for refusing.
Each messenger was slandered in a way that fitted his manner — and both slanders landed on Christ.
The first presented himself with the severity of a prophet, separated from the people on whom judgment was pronounced; the second made Himself accessible to men, in order, if it were possible, to win for God the confidence of sinners. These two testimonies had found no echo; these two witnesses had been rejected; man did worse than that, he accused John of having a demon, and Christ of sharing in the sins of those He came to save. By refusing grace, by refusing it in this way, what a weight of suffering has man not piled on the heart of the Saviour!
The problem was not John's diet. It was a conscience left untouched, and turning down the smaller witness closed the door on the greater one.
But the prudent and wise, the religious, learned, and great — "the Pharisees and the lawyers" — rejected God's purpose for themselves. They refused even the preparatory work of John the Baptist. Having refused the lesser testimony, they never passed on into the greater things — the reality from God… A person receives Christ for salvation only in the conscience. Feeling and understanding will never do alone.
The same attitude shows up in religious people today.
They did not like John the Baptist's serious call to repentance. In effect they played their frivolous music to him, complaining that he was too serious to dance. But how could John join in, when their true state was one of departure from God? He refused even to eat and drink with them. God had sent him for the serious purpose of bringing them down in self-judgment, so as to prepare the way of the Lord. They then accused him of having a demon… Religious zealots today glory in their boasted self-denial and despise others who do not do the same. So self-righteousness despises the grace of God, and is grossly unfair in its accusations.
Others heard the same preaching and agreed with God about themselves. That is what the crowds and tax collectors did earlier in the chapter.
They justified God! What does this mean? If we speak of God justifying the sinner — well, he is made right with God, he is declared to be righteous before God. If we justify God we do not make Him right, but declare that the way He has taken to reach and bless us is just the right way.
John's abstaining was his own calling, not a higher standard than his Lord's.
Is the use of bread or wine wrong in itself? Was John the Baptist more pure than his Lord and Saviour? Note well, too, that he abstained from bread as well as from wine. Are we, then, to give up either or both?
- Sent — John came as a literal Nazarite. He gave up bread as well as wine, so his whole way of life preached repentance.
- Slandered — his strictness gave them their hook for the charge of a demon. They slandered Christ's grace just as freely, so the fault lay in the hearers, not the messengers.
- Stopped — refusing John's smaller testimony left them unable to receive the greater One. A person receives Christ in the conscience, not by feeling alone.
- Submitting — the tax collectors and sinners justified God. They admitted the judgment against them and repented, and the first good fruit is always admitting that we produce bad fruit.
- Sober — John's abstaining was his own calling, not a purity higher than his Lord's. It makes no rule for anyone else.
The Son of man has come eating and drinking, and ye say, Behold an eater and wine-drinker, a friend of tax-gatherers and sinners;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and wisdom has been justified of all her children.
Jesus has just summed up a generation that found fault with John's strictness and then with His own freedom. He closes the verdict with one sentence about wisdom and her children. So who are these children? The story Luke tells right next answers that.
One writer traces how the two messengers God sent were each turned away for opposite reasons:
The Lord had just been speaking of the folly and caprice shown by the men of this generation. They were like young people in a marketplace who frustrate each other in every possible way. One plays a tune, and nobody dances; one sings a sad song, and nobody weeps. Just so, when God sent John the Baptist in the way of severity and outward separation — even from the ordinary food of men — people slandered him. When He sent the Son of Man in the way of the closest and friendliest love, they mocked and reproached Him. The one was too strict, the other too free.
The problem was never the messenger. Whatever testimony God gives, "man has always some reason for refusing" (William Kelly).
To justify wisdom is to agree with God — and it begins with agreeing about yourself. Earlier in the chapter, some people had already done this under John's preaching:
The wise are not the Pharisees and the scribes. In verse 29 it says that some justified God. That is, they bowed to God's testimony through John the Baptist. They recognised that God was righteous in His condemnation of their sins. Many confessed their sins and took their place in the Jordan, owning in this way that death was what they truly deserved. So they proclaimed God's righteousness against themselves. And therefore they also received the grace of God in the person of Christ with all gratefulness. They justified that grace when many condemned it. In doing so they showed themselves to be the children of wisdom.
The same writer names the root problem: "They pretend to be wise enough to judge God, but not to judge themselves" (Henrik Gautesen).
Luke does not leave the saying as an idea. He follows it with a dinner in a Pharisee's house and a woman weeping at Jesus' feet. That story has one centre: "Everything in the story revolves around Christ's person. God is here in Him, God's wisdom is presented in Him" (Henrik Gautesen). Both the wisdom and the folly stand side by side in the same room:
The Holy Spirit led Luke to give here the most striking possible commentary on the folly of self-righteousness and the wisdom of faith. He brings forward exactly a case in point. The worth of man's wisdom appears in the Pharisee, while the true wisdom of God, which comes down from above, appears where His own grace alone created it. For who seemed less likely to hold it than a woman of ruined and depraved character — a sinner whose very name God withholds?
The verse says all her children. Wisdom's family turns out to include people nobody would have picked:
Who could have expected that from now on a child of wisdom was to be found in a notorious child of folly? That was her known and evil character; but when God drew her to the feet of Jesus, everything was changed. Such is the power of His grace in Jesus. Who else would have thought of a robber reconciled to God on the cross? Who would have thought of a sinful woman picked out from the mass of human beings — a disgraceful character saved by faith and sent away in peace?
The dying criminal shows how little human standing counts: "The robber had nothing to boast of in the way of education. But he justified the wisdom of God against all the pride, knowledge, power, and glory of man" (William Kelly).
One writer takes the verse into everyday life:
We are children of Wisdom by faith, as Luke 7:35 assures us: "wisdom is justified by all her children." But by paying attention to these instructions we become Wisdom's children in practice. Wisdom instructs us in right conduct in each area: under the governing authorities of this world, in life in the city (which for us is the business world), and in the family circle.
- Refusal. The generation faulted John for being too strict and Jesus for being too free. The fault lay in them, not in God's messengers.
- Justification. To justify wisdom is to take God's side against yourself first, owning that His verdict on your sin is right.
- Evidence. Luke answers the saying with a story: the child of wisdom in that house was the weeping woman, not the host who judged her.
- Reach. The word "all" stretches the family to a notorious woman and a dying robber — the last people anyone would have picked.
- Practice. Faith puts you in the family; obedience shows it — at work, under authority, and at home.