Luke 9:51–19:27

In Luke 9 the crowd is fed, but our Lord's rejection shows more clearly. Soon after the transfiguration and the healing of the demon-possessed boy, His rejection begins to unfold. Luke 9:51 seems to gather all the rest of the Gospel narrative under this one subject. The journey led on to Jerusalem, the place where He would be crucified, and everything stands in that light. If men are to follow Him, it is following One who is going to the cross.

The same Greek word for "taken up" is translated "received up" in Mark 16:19 and 1 Timothy 3:16. It is also found in Luke 9:51... How much lay before the blessed Lord. Pharisees, scribes, Herodians and Sadducees all tried to trap Him. Then came the abuse, wickedness and injustice before the kings of the earth and the leaders of Israel. Then Gethsemane, Gabbatha and Golgotha, with all its shame, weakness and divine judgment. Still, the Lord is able to look beyond it all to His being received up into heaven. It was "for the joy that was set before Him" that He "endured the cross, despising the shame" (Hebrews 12:2). This joy would be His at His receiving up.

In Isaiah, "I have set my face like a flint." He was carrying out His Father's will here, as in all His course. Redemption had to come through the cross... It was the same obedience as at the beginning. It was more painful now, and of course He felt the difference. But still He goes in the same blessed spirit and earnestness... He had found it His food to do the will of Him who sent Him. There was joy to Him in this; but in the cup of wrath He was going to drink there was no joy... His holy nature shrank from it, yet there was the same quiet, steady, patient obedience.

No affliction, toil, or suffering that He endured ever stopped this love from working. Neither did His disciples' errors, weaknesses, or faults. One denied Him and all deserted Him, yet that did not lessen it... Death was before Him — the death He had taken on Himself so that they might live for ever with Him in glory. He looked at it with a full understanding of its sufferings. Did this stand in the way of His love? No: His was a love stronger than death... He knew He had to fight there with the powers of darkness. His sufferings, death and the grave would follow. Yet, with the full prospect of it all, He set His face to go to Jerusalem. Why? Love urged Him onward.

Luke brings out the lingering of our Lord's love and pity. His face is set on the place where He was to die. But His slow steps show the reluctance and the sorrow with which He visits Jerusalem for the last time. There He gives the crowning proof of man's total ruin in His blood and cross.

He seems to act in the awareness that this journey leads Him to glory. He sends messengers ahead of Him, as though to prepare a way that suits the glory He expects. The chariot of God would be ready to carry Him up from Jerusalem (Luke 24:51). But first it was for men to prepare His way from the place where He then was to that city. So He was, as it were, testing whether the world would own His claim to be "received up." Later He tested whether Israel would own His royal place in Zion (Luke 19:28). But neither would the world know Him, nor Israel receive Him. The earth did not care for His heavenly glory.

Long ago these Samaritans had rejected the Lord's servant who was about to be taken up. Now, in the same circumstances, they reject the Lord Himself. The everlasting doors were about to open to the King of glory. After the victory of the cross heaven was ready to receive the Lord mighty in battle. But on earth, we read, "they did not receive Him."

The word "angel" in itself does not describe a nature, but an office. It means a messenger. Only the context and the particular use of the word can decide. The word may apply to people, or to spiritual beings. In Luke 7:24; 9:52; 2 Corinthians 12:7; James 2:25 the term "angel," or its plural, refers to those sent on errands of various kinds.

At Sychar, very early in our Lord's ministry, before John the Baptist was even put in prison, a work went on there. We know something about it, and it came out of the Lord's conversation with the woman at the well (John 4). Later, in Samaria, the Lord met opposition. The people of one village refused to receive Him (Luke 9:52), because His face was as though He were going to Jerusalem. Warm welcome and flat rejection — these had been the Lord's experiences in Samaria.

At the start, conscious of His personal glory, He looked forward to His being "raised up," as He was later. Then He sends messengers ahead of Him, in the ordinary, well-known manner of someone who wants it known that a person of distinction is coming that way. But the unbelief of the Samaritans changes the scene. They would not receive Him. They refused to build a road for the feet of this glorious One. Instead they forced Him to find the best path He could for Himself, as the rejected One. But He accepts this place at once, without a murmur in His heart.

We see the reason they did not receive Him was that His face was set towards Jerusalem. He was going to do God's will without honour or attractiveness or reputation. His obedience and singleness of purpose in going to Jerusalem is the very reason they would have nothing to do with Him. […] The Samaritans would not submit to God's way: Christ did. That is the difference.

The Samaritans had no excuse. Loyalty to their own sect ruled them completely, in its worst form, and they were hostile to God's centre. They had their own form of worship. They would not receive anyone whose face was turned the opposite way to theirs, and so they refused Christ, the Son of God, on that basis.

In the Gospel of Luke the Lord is a vessel of grace. He longs for the blessing even of those who are against Him. The disciples had to learn this. They had to watch their spirits; they did not know the kind of people they were. They were in the company of the vessel of grace, so they ought to be like Him. They ought to long for the blessing and salvation of those who are hostile to Christ Himself.

These Samaritans made a great mistake in refusing to receive the Saviour even as a passing guest. Strong religious prejudices were at the bottom of it. They disagreed sharply with the Jews about the place where people should worship. Mount Gerizim was their sacred spot, and Jerusalem was that of their rivals. Now Jesus had set His face towards Jerusalem. They knew it, and they would not let Him stay in their village — not even for an hour. They were wrong, very wrong. But their refusal shows how religious prejudices darken the understanding and lead to sorrowful results.

There was no readiness for the Lord. Their dislike of favoured Jerusalem made them forget everything: the glory of Jesus, and the proof of His gracious power. These very Samaritans had every reason to know that power and to be grateful for it... How often circumstances bring out the state of our hearts! They would never dare do this if Jesus alone were in view. But some petty selfish feeling stirs up a hidden jealousy and brings everything to light.

He obeyed, and His purpose was undivided. He went to do God's will without honour or attractiveness or reputation. He went to Jerusalem. That is the very reason they would have nothing to do with Him... The Samaritans would not submit to God's way; Christ did. That is the difference.

The first hindrance is selfishness, plain to see... It may come under cover of zeal for the Master's reputation, and this is the most subtle form of all. The Samaritans were altogether wrong in their attitude. He was going up to Jerusalem to die. James and John wanted to defend His importance — and their own along with it — by bringing death on others. Elijah had indeed acted this way when faced with the violence of a king who had turned away from God, but the Son of Man is of another spirit. That was the trouble with the disciples. They had not yet entered into the spirit of grace — the grace that marked their Master.

But He knew "how to be brought low" too. Look at Him with the Samaritan villagers in Luke 9... He sends messengers ahead of Him, in the familiar style of someone announcing that an important person is coming that way. But the unbelief of the Samaritans changes the scene. They would not receive Him. They refused to build a road for the feet of this glorious One. They forced Him to find the best path He could for Himself, as the rejected One. But He accepts this place at once, without a murmur in His heart.

Though Lord of all, He was here with a tender heart and a lowly mind, having no self-importance to maintain... Christ, without resentment and without retaliation, will pass on to another village.

How changed were the people of that province and that sect! The Lord was going towards Jerusalem. He entered a village of theirs, and they made Him leave. They would not receive Him, because His face was set toward the mother-city, Jerusalem (Luke 9:53). Now Peter and John, who had been with Him at that time, met with no coldness. Nobody in the Samaritan villages turned them away, even though they were going up to Jerusalem... When the Spirit is at work, prejudices of ages melt away. Difficulties that once looked impossible are no longer there.

They disliked Jerusalem, the favoured city, and that dislike made them forget the glory of Jesus. They forgot the proof of His gracious power — something these very Samaritans had every reason to know and to be grateful for. How often circumstances bring out the state of our hearts! If it were only a question of Jesus, they would not dare to act like this. But some petty selfish feeling stirs up a hidden jealousy, and brings everything to light.

The spirit of the sons of Zebedee is aflame, and they would bring fire down from heaven in the manner of Elijah, to consume the rude Samaritans. Their appeal to Elijah's example seems to show that they were already far from sure. Would the Lord want to punish an offence like this in such a way? But they had lately seen Elijah with Him. They could quote his example to One who upheld the authority of Scripture so fully. Yet He makes it no question of Scripture; it was they who did not know what spirit they were of. They were not of His spirit, for the Son of Man had not come to destroy men's lives but to save them.

Of all forms of selfishness this is the most subtle and hardest to detect, for who can complain of zeal for the Lord, or say that it is wrong? And yet under zeal for the Lord there may lurk zeal for self. Zeal for Christ would want His enemies judged. Righteousness might seem to demand it, and a Scripture precedent would support such a course. Still, the Lord rebukes His disciples, saying, "You do not know what manner of spirit you are of." Underneath their zeal the Lord detects and exposes a spirit completely foreign to Himself. The Lord was exercising power in grace to meet man's need. The disciples would exercise power in judgment to gratify their own self-importance.

They did not know what spirit they were of. That is, they did not discern the time. They did not understand the Lord and His work in this world. They misread the age they were in, and would have treated it as a time of judgment. Their affections were right. Their purpose and design will find its answer in due season, when the day of vengeance comes. So their error was not in affection, but in their grasp of the age they were in. Their Lord had come to save, not to kill.

Elijah acted here as a representative of the law, which showed no leniency. The disciples of Christ were representatives of the gospel, which proclaims the forgiveness of sins. The old covenant had to alarm and subdue the enemies of the kingdom of God, and it used threatening words and punishing measures. The new covenant aimed to disarm them and, if possible, to win them by forgiving love.

Mr. Darby rightly said that divine principles in the hands of an unspiritual man are like a sword in the hands of a child or a drunk man. How true this is! What damage wrong spirits have done, with hard, harsh speaking that is not of Christ — and all of it supposedly in the name of Christ Himself! They were always in the company of One who showed kindness and love at every point. Yet here they were, still not having learned that lesson, wanting to be cruel and wanting others judged.

Later John went again into Samaria, but showed a far different spirit (Acts 8).

By pleading Elijah's example they seem to show that they were not at all sure the Lord would want to punish an offence like this in such a way. They could hardly have been with Him so long without learning this much of His patience. But they had just seen Elijah with Him, and they could quote his example to One who upheld the authority of Scripture so fully. But He makes it no question of Scripture. It was they who did not know what spirit they were of.

James and John later carried great weight and value in the church of God. Yet how painfully they showed here how little they saw of the grace of Jesus! The Lord of glory passes on, accepting His rejection... But His two servants owed everything to the only One who could take away their evil and give them the goodness of God. Yet they would command fire to come down from heaven and consume them like a Jewish prophet — all under the pretence of honouring Jesus. How little love had they for souls! Just as little was it a true regard for Jesus... Jesus turned therefore and rebuked them. It was not now simply a correction of what they were saying, but a rebuke to themselves.

First we saw selfishness in zeal for self, then selfishness hiding under zeal for a party. Now selfishness cloaks itself in zeal for the Lord. Of all forms of selfishness this is the most subtle and the hardest to detect. Who can complain of zeal for the Lord, or say that it is wrong? And yet under zeal for the Lord there may lurk zeal for self... The Lord was exercising power in grace to meet man's need. The disciples would exercise power in judgment to gratify their own self-importance.

They were in a different dispensation of God. It was not the dispensation of law, but of grace, since "grace and truth came through Jesus Christ." As long as God proclaims grace, judgment must wait. Yet judgment must come at last on those who refuse the grace of God.

If inserted here, it would make man the reason and the end. But the idea went against the display of what God is. It did not fit His grace, which does not only save the soul but fills the heart with the moral glory of the Lord Jesus.

Thus rejected, the Lord judges no one. He does not avenge Himself... That a Samaritan should turn away the Messiah was, to the disciples, worthy of destruction. Christ came to save men's lives. He submits to the insult, and goes elsewhere.

How many un-Christlike things have been done under the plea of faithfulness to Christ! Possibly we have done them ourselves. And when we did them, our zeal for our Master's honour came from one spirit. It was the same spirit that made James and John eager to call down fire from heaven... We would defend our Master's name. We would stand up for His rights, whatever it cost — and we called down the fire!

Rejected like this, the Lord judges no one. He does not avenge Himself; He had come to save men's lives. To the disciples, a Samaritan who turned the Messiah away deserved destruction. Christ came to save the lives of men. He accepts the insult and goes elsewhere.

The last form of selfishness is the lifting up of self under the cover of zeal for the Lord... Of all forms of selfishness this is the most subtle and the hardest to spot. Who can complain of zeal for the Lord, or say that is wrong? Yet under zeal for the Lord there may hide zeal for self... The Lord was using power in grace to meet man's need. The disciples would use power in judgment to gratify their own self-importance.

The disciples would take advantage of the wickedness of these people to exercise a judgment they deserved, but they would do so in the spirit of retaliation. Self was the secret of their proposal, but hidden under the cloak of zeal for the Lord.

So, when Elijah asked for fire from heaven to burn up the men sent to arrest him, the fire came. God put His seal on that prayer, terrible as it was. Yet the disciples asked the same about the Samaritans: "Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?" They met rebuke, not approval: "You do not know what kind of spirit you are of." But why should what was right in Elijah be wrong in them? For this reason: "the Son of Man did not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them."

They did not understand how God was dealing with the world now, in sending His Son into it. He had come in grace, not in judgment. The lesson for us is plain. We must not simply copy what was right for another time. We should truly know our own time and what suits it.

The law required judgment of sin, and Elijah pressed this on Israel with force, even to the point of bringing God's judgment down on their heads. Yet the Lord Jesus insists that He Himself had not come to carry out the sentence of the law against men. He had come to save them. If this is the very reason for His coming, then the message of His saving grace is clearly the main message of His servants today.

The Lord does not take that place now. He is saving sinners and showing full grace in other ways. As long as He acts like this, He does not want His people to hold earthly power... Suppose someone opposes a believer with evil intent, and the believer wishes him death or injury. That would be foreign to Christianity and against everything it breathes. Christianity shows that the victory grace gives us is to show love and kindness to one's enemy.

He turned round and went to another village. It is not pleasant to be trampled on in this world, but Christ was. To do good, suffer for it, and bear it patiently — that is our part... Christ came to suffer, to bear anything for the sake of others. He would not have been doing this if He had called down fire from heaven on the Samaritans. We have to follow Christ in carrying the testimony of God's love into the world in all our walk through it.

The next verse seems to be — the first part at least — a later addition. It was not a question of saving souls in this place.

Luke 9:51 seems to include all the rest of the Gospel narrative under this general subject. The journey led on to Jerusalem, the place where He was to be crucified, and everything is in the light of that. If men are to follow Him, it is following One who is going to the cross.

It seemed a good confession, and it was a zealous resolution; but man can never go ahead of the Lord. No one ever did give himself up to God — he must be called. The person who says "I will follow you" does not know his own weakness. Think what man is and what Jesus is. For a man to say "I will follow you wherever you go" is plain presumption of the worst kind. Yet man sees no presumption in it. Man is so ignorant, so dulled by unbelief, that real faith looks presumptuous to him. Yet nothing is so humble. Faith forgets itself in the goodness and might of the One it leans on.

One man says, "Lord, I will follow you wherever you go," but Christ puts him to the test. You cannot go unless you share the lot of One who had nowhere to lay His head. You would sooner go to the birds of the air for a nest, or to the foxes for a hole, than to the Son of Man for a home in this world. They were not to come to Him now as the One who held the promises. They were to come to One whose portion was utter and complete rejection. Following Him could not come with ease and comfort here.

The Lord's quiet answer neither pushed him away nor scolded him. It told him that true discipleship was not an easy calling... The Lord was a stranger in the middle of His own creation, though everything belonged to Him. One day He will rule over it all in the open as Son of Man (Psalm 8:6; Heb. 2:7-9). What effect the Lord's answer had on the man is not stated, and it does not concern us. What we need to know is the character of the path a true disciple must be willing to face.

No man is fit to follow the Lord until grace calls him. And when we are called, the Lord does not send us out at our own expense. He gives generously the wisdom and ability needed to those who ask Him; but He goes before us.

Some people say without thinking, "I would like to follow Him." That is just like the man who said, "Lord, I will follow you wherever you go." But Jesus spoke to this man. It was as if He said: Do you know what you are saying? Do you know why you are so ready to come? "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." Will you follow the Homeless Stranger?

It seemed to be a good confession, and it was a zealous resolution; but man can never go ahead of the Lord. No one ever did give himself up to God — he must be called. The person who says "I will follow you" does not know his own weakness... He miscalculates. He overlooks the glory of Christ and the depth of His grace. He overlooks his own total lack of power, and perhaps even his need of forgiveness. No one is fit to follow the Lord until he is called by grace.

One says, "Lord, I will follow you wherever you go," but Christ puts him to the test. You cannot go unless you take up your lot with One who had nowhere to lay His head. You would sooner go to the birds of the air for a nest, or to the foxes for a hole, than to the Son of Man for a home in this world. They were not to come to Him now as the One who held the promises. They were to come to One whose portion was utter and complete rejection... At His birth we see the same thing. Everyone found room in the inn except Him.

The Word who became flesh was the Son of Man, with rights to the whole creation. Yet He had nowhere to lay His head... Foxes and birds are creatures of His hand, members of the lower creation. They had their lairs and their nests, but He, the Lord of them all, was homeless.

By personal right this Son of Man owned everything; He had never lost Eden... With all this title, He took nothing. He had lost nothing, but still He would have nothing. No sentence of judgement had exposed Him to hardship or sorrow. The earth on which He had the right to walk was not one of thorns and thistles. But He willingly took up all sorrow and hardship, and walked as one acquainted with grief all His days.

This may have been the outcome of a generous impulse that drew the man to the Lord. At the same time it betrays the shallowness of nature. Nature did not grasp who the Lord was, where He was going, or the path He was treading... The energy of nature, however genuine, was not prepared for such a path. Nature can do much, but it cannot give up itself, its ease, its comforts, to follow a rejected Lord. And so, once the Lord set this path before the volunteer, we hear no more of him.

The man was judged. He came for what he could get, and the Lord had nothing to give him — nothing but shame, and suffering, and destitution... There was no man in Israel so poor as the Lord Jesus. So it was no use for this man to follow Him in the hope of gaining by it.

There is only one man who never had a place of rest... And if we now have a nest, a place of rest in God, it is because for our sakes Jesus was without rest on earth.

No one likes to be without a home. There is a longing in everyone's heart for a resting place... But one blessed Stranger was here. He was the true Pilgrim, and He tells those who would follow Him that His was not a path of ease, of wealth or of power... We may have what we call a home. But as far as the real home of the soul goes, are we not joined with Him who had nowhere to lay His head?

And He said to another, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, let me first go and bury my father." Jesus said to him, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Now here is real faith; and where this exists, it is more than a theory — difficulties are felt. So the man begins to make an excuse. On one side he feels the attraction of the word of Jesus. But at the same time he is not free from the force that drags him back into nature.

The word "first" — let me first go and bury my father — shows something put before Christ. It is as if the man said, "There is something I put ahead of Your calling." Death had come in, and this very plea told Christ that they were all under death. It was quite a right thing for the man to bury his father. But if life has come in, and the question is redemption — to be lost or saved — you must give yourself up to it.

This man pleads the very first of all human duties. What could seem not only reasonable, but so binding on him, as to go first and bury his father? Did not the law command the child to honour father and mother? Certainly; but One was there greater than the law. The God who gave the law was calling. If He says, "Follow Me," faith gives up everything — father, or mother, or wife, or children — for Christ's sake. Jews counted a man who did not bury his father with proper care and affection as unworthy of any place among them.

In the one case, He set the divine call above the claims of family duty. In the other He condemned the Pharisees, who set human tradition above family duty. That reversal had no adequate warrant. God established the responsibility of children to their parents, and God alone can set it aside.

The Lord's answer to him is, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." That was a puzzling answer to a person whose heart was divided. This is how the Lord tests faith. He does not put things in the simplest possible form, above all where a person allows something that hinders. So He says, let those who are spiritually dead bury their natural dead — but you go and announce the kingdom of God. This man was not only called to follow Jesus, but to be a witness for Him.

The claims of natural relationship can be a serious hindrance to following the Lord with an undivided heart, but His claims come first. This does not contradict 1 Timothy 5:8, "if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever." A person can do the Lord's work and provide for his own house at the same time. But this man wanted to delay doing the Lord's work until he was completely free of any obligation to his father.

There cannot be any "firsts" if we are disciples, because the Lord must be first. It was a perfectly legitimate thing to do — "let me first go and bury my father." We would all say, "Well, that man had a very good reason for going and doing this." But our lives will come under review. Then the Lord will decide what was right and what was wrong. He will decide it by how we lived in relation to Himself.

The flesh is so bold in its offers to go after Jesus, but in reality it is slow to follow when He calls. This man, though called, feels the difficulties at once, and says, "Lord, let me first go and bury my father." You find this in true believers. When a person has Christianity before his mind as a theory, all seems easy. He thinks he can do anything. Usually, where the faith is genuine, a person feels the difficulties; and this man pleads the very first of all human duties. What could seem more reasonable, or more binding on him, than to go first and bury his father? Did not the law command the child to honour father and mother? To be sure; but One was there greater than the law.

This was a test. Christ knew everything, and He called this man at that exact moment for a reason: was Christ worth more to his soul than anyone or anything else in the world? The Lord's answer to him is a puzzling one to a person who was not single-minded. This is how the Lord tests faith… So He says here, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead" — that is, let those who are spiritually dead bury their natural dead. It was not only that this man was called to follow Jesus, but to be a witness for Him, to be a proclaimer of God's kingdom.

Here it was only a dead father needing to be buried. The living disciple, the messenger of life, was not to be kept in the region of death, away from delivering his gracious message. Let the dead attend to death, is the Lord's word. The two deaths spoken of here are not the same, yet there is a simple and clear connection between them.

The Lord's words, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead" (v.60), show that those who have no spiritual life can occupy themselves with natural matters only. But when the Lord calls someone to preach the kingdom of God, he is to obey. The Lord allows no excuse. This does not contradict 1 Timothy 5:8: "If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever." One can do the Lord's work and provide for his own house at the same time. But this man wanted to put off the Lord's work until he was free of every obligation to his father.

This does not mean that we are to give up natural relationships. God formed them. We are to bring the grace of Christ into them. But we must not let them hinder us in the path of God's will.

The sense of the dignity of His ministry was strong in Him. He answers, "One fellow creature may do the service of the dying for the dying. But you go and do the work of a living Saviour in the world."… "Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God" — go and do My business, the business of life, and not of death, in a world struck by sin.

Meanwhile, for this very reason, the preaching of the kingdom was the only thing His unwearying love could do. The dead (to God) might bury the dead. The man who was called, who was alive, must be taken up with one thing — the kingdom — to bear witness to it. And that without looking back, the urgency of the matter lifting him above all other thoughts.

Here we have someone who lets the pleasant courtesies of life come "first." It was no serious delay. It was merely paying them ordinary politeness. But the Lord insists on the absolute giving up of every hindrance. If Christianity is anything, it must be everything. It allows no rivals and no delays. It could not be the kingdom of the true God if it tolerated His servants turning aside even a little. Christ is the first and the last. He must be everything to the heart, or through the schemes of the enemy He becomes nothing.

Anyone holding a hand plough must give his whole attention to the work. He keeps his eyes forward, both to make a straight furrow and to keep the plough at an even depth. If someone has no real purpose to follow the path of discipleship steadily and without swerving, he is not fit for the kingdom of God.

He would gladly put his hand to the plough — take up service — but his heart was "looking back" to the home, and we go the way we look. How impossible for a worker to plough his furrow while walking one way and looking another. The service of the Lord demands an undivided heart.

This case shows that those at home were not left behind in his heart. He felt he had to break with them, and yet his heart lingered. … If Christ is not first and last, He will always be last, for faith is not at work. … People may talk about the claims of affection. Yet it is not really family affection alone; what they feel is the end of it that ties back to self.

Now this was most natural, and, as some would say, kind and affectionate. But sadly, pleasantness and natural affection have often kept people from entering the Lord's service as they should.

It is not that the Lord sets aside the mercy of a home on earth, the claims and duties of natural relationships, or the affections that belong to them. He puts His own claims first, and looks for a devotedness that surrenders everything to Him. Only in the light of the glory of Christ in the kingdom of God, and in the power of the grace of Christ, will we be able to refuse our sinful nature in its many forms, the selfishness of our hearts, and the claims of nature.

The first statement — being made fit for the inheritance — is absolute and unconditional. The second — fitness for the kingdom — is strictly conditional. To look back from the plough shows unfitness. The first is the fruit of God's pure and boundless grace. … The second lies wholly in the line of responsibility — holding the plough of service. It depends on faithfulness on our part.

He knows he is running a race. He knows he is weak and easily turned aside, prone to look back and spoil his furrow, and possibly to lose the prize on the coming day. This is all deeply serious, but he has no question about the inheritance. That is settled. … So he seeks grace, in order to be as fit for the kingdom as he has been made fit for the inheritance.

The Lord would make one last appeal. For that He chose and sent seventy disciples. They were to go as He had sent the twelve: two by two, ahead of Him, into every city and place where He Himself would come. The mission of the twelve had clearly not won the nation to listen to the prophet foretold by Moses. So He would make another effort, sending messengers ahead of Him to prepare His way. This appeal was not the fruit of human pleading. It rose out of the grace of His heart, and out of that love which nothing could quench.

The mission of the Seventy is peculiar to Luke. In itself it has a character of grace. Yet once it is rejected, it becomes the herald of judgment soon to fall on Israel. Since the transfiguration of the Lord, everything is now out in the open. The earlier mission came before that great event, and other Gospels record it; Luke adds the mission of the seventy. He has now fully announced His death, His suffering, His rejection… And now, closing the testimony to Israel, this new mission goes out to announce the kingdom of God — a message given before He revealed His rejection, and given again since.

This chapter gives us the mission of the Seventy. But it is only here that we get this. In this Gospel, as I have already said, the Lord looks out to people beyond the Jewish boundary. So we see a ministry wider in character than one that fitted itself to Jewish arrangements. It signalled a departure from strict original order in Israel, as did a similar appointment of seventy elders in the days of Moses.

The sending out of the twelve was the start of an extension of the Lord's ministry and service. Until then all had been in His own hands, with the disciples as onlookers; now they are to act on His behalf. He was completely enough in Himself. They are not, and so they are to go out two by two. There is help and courage in companionship, for just where one is weak another may be strong, and He who sent them knew exactly how to pair them together. Companionship helps most in pioneering work. In Acts we see Paul following this instruction of the Lord.

It is significant that the Lord sent the seventy out two by two, ahead of Him, into every city and place where He Himself would come. So even as His busy life on earth drew to a close, He was planning to visit at least thirty-five more places.

The Lord Himself "sent" the Twelve and the Seventy when He was here. Now that He is above, He, by the Spirit of God, gives and sends out those alive again for evermore whom He has qualified for His work, whatever that work may be. He has not given up His rights. He has not handed them over to the church, or to any people in it… Mission, like gift, belongs to the Lord; and He is the same still.

Clearly the mission of the twelve had not won the nation to listen to the prophet Moses foretold. So He would make another effort, sending messengers ahead of Him to prepare His way. This appeal did not come from anyone's prayers. It came from the grace of His heart, and from a love that nothing could quench... Matthew introduces the mission of the twelve with the same words. But comparing Luke and Matthew, we cannot doubt that the Lord said this on more than one occasion, as He said other things.

Still the harvest was great. For love, unchilled by sin, saw the need through the outward opposition; but there were few moved by this love. The Lord of the harvest alone could send forth true labourers.

They were not to think of themselves as a select group on a higher level than others. They were to pray instead that the Lord of the harvest would send out more labourers into His harvest. The term labourers describes those on the lowest level of employment; though they have no dignified title, they do the hard work. Yet what is their work compared to His? He was coming to every place where it took seventy men, plus the twelve, to prepare the way for Him.

The New Testament uses many words for pray, but this is the strongest of them all. It is deomai: it might be translated 'beseech', or 'supplicate'... I wonder how many of us obey the Lord's command (for it is a command) given in these verses. I wonder how often in our own private prayers we plead with the Lord of the harvest to thrust out labourers. I wonder how often in the prayer meetings we hear this earnest, fervent pleading. I fear not very often. Is this why the labourers are so pitifully few?

The word translated 'send forth' is ek-ballo in each of these Gospels. The Lord of the harvest Himself is the one who sends out, or thrusts out, these labourers. It is not left to the labourer's own choice whether he will go or not. No man, and no mission board, has the authority to send out these labourers. The Lord of the harvest alone has the right to send a labourer. And I hardly need add that if the Lord of the harvest sends out a labourer, He makes Himself responsible for the support and care of that labourer.

In no part of scripture is man said to send out the preacher: God keeps this prerogative in His own hands.

The Lord's heart felt for the people as He said, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few"... "Pray earnestly therefore to the Lord of the harvest." Still, He was encouraging prayer, because He is Himself appointing these seventy to go out before He tells them to pray. He was the Lord of the harvest.

Bright spots there are, thank God — places where the Spirit of God is clearly at work. But taken as a whole, the picture is a dark one... even where the Spirit of God is working, wholehearted servants of God are all too few. Who stirs himself up to take hold of God about it? Who prays to the Lord of the harvest, that He will send out labourers into His harvest?

The Lord's heart felt for the people as He said, "The harvest indeed is great, but the workmen few." Now He raises up far more labourers, because the need pressed on His soul. "Pray therefore to the Lord of the harvest." Yet He was encouraging prayer. The reason is this: before He tells them to pray, He is Himself appointing these seventy to go out. He was the Lord of the harvest. At the same time He warns them what to expect. "Go your way; behold, I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves." He knew well what man was, even in Israel, and they were to know it too. Flesh was completely judged. The Jews are no longer seen as the lost sheep of Israel, but as wolves — with the messengers themselves as the lambs they prey on.

"I send you" is the great basis. The Lord knew what He was doing when He sent them. He knew it was "as sheep in the midst of wolves." Knowing that He knew this took away its sting, if they felt the force of that "I." He did not merely say, you will be. He said, "I send you as." It was a supreme commission.

They were to be perfectly dependent on God, and independent of everything else. They were to expect to meet enemies, wolves. "Go your way; behold, I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves." You cannot turn a lamb into a wolf to defend itself. Peter wanted to take a sword and cut off the servant's right ear. But the Lord forbids him and says, "All who take the sword will perish by the sword." It is difficult to receive everything and do nothing, to be a lamb among wolves — as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were. Facing the fiery furnace, they said, "we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us."

How thoroughly the Lord is supposing the hostility of man! He expects it, for in truth the gospel starts with it. "I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves." He did not say lambs among lambs. He said lambs among wolves. So, dear friends, if you meet this hostility, "do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you." What Christ met in His own person down here He fully expects for all His followers. So "rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings." But it is as lambs — not in rashness, but harmless as doves, though wise as serpents. Be careful not to give occasion for hostility. But if confessing the name of Christ brings it out, take it patiently and trust God.

The instructions the Lord gave to the seventy are similar to those given to the twelve. There was the same simplicity and absence of self-seeking, the same dependence on Him for the supply of their needs. They had, however, extra warnings which showed growing opposition from the people. The Lord told them they would be as lambs among wolves, a very striking picture. Yet even when people refused, they were to make it very plain that the kingdom had come near to the people.

He sent them out in a spirit of grace, exposed to the evil of man. Yet they were to go with the full awareness of His glory. "Carry no moneybag, no knapsack, no sandals, and greet no one on the road." The danger was imminent, the duty was urgent. They needed no preparation and no resources from outside. They had every right to count on the power of His name to provide for them in Israel, for He was the King, however much men rejected Him. On the other hand, there was no time for greetings. Such courtesy is fine for the earth and for the present time. But eternity was coming more and more clearly before the minds of the servants, as it was fully before the Lord. Deeper interests were at stake, and anything that filled their minds with what could be done without was only a hindrance.

As with the twelve disciples in chapter 9:1-5, He told them to carry no provisions: no purse for money, no bag for food, no extra shoes. The testimony is toward Israel, God's chosen nation, and they were responsible to care for the servants of Israel's Messiah. They were not to carry anything unnecessary. They were also to hold back from what was irrelevant, even from greeting people along the way. They had a single purpose, and even social courtesy must not get in its way — that is, spending time in social conversation. This did not mean they should be rude.

"Greet no one" means avoid what in that part of the world is a prolonged ceremony (compare 2 Kings 4:29). Ryle: "The man of God ought to have no leisure for any work but that of his Master."

"Carry no moneybag, no knapsack, no sandals, and greet no one on the road." This did not mean they should be rude. They were not to waste time in useless ceremonies. When in God's service, and among God's enemies, God must be everything. It needs concentration of heart in Him. You know that the world has rejected your Master, and that it will reject you if you are faithful to Him. Faith knows this and goes on, not with worldly prudence and human wisdom, but knowing what to do and going on to do it.

They received the generosity of their hosts in each village where they preached and found a welcome. Yet the Lord who had sent them would move hearts to be favourable to them. And so it was, as they later acknowledged. They went out just as they were, with no bag, no provisions, no money, no extra clothing.

In Luke 22:35, referring to this very mission, the Lord asks, "When I sent you out with no moneybag or knapsack or sandals, did you lack anything?" And they said, "Nothing." Then the Lord tells them to provide themselves now with moneybag, knapsack and sword. The very things they were not to do before, they were to do from that time. The Lord cancels what He had earlier commanded, so far as those special circumstances went. His goodness and love to them would remain, and so would their walking in wisdom and harmlessness. But the particular character of this mission ended at the death of Christ.

"Whatever house you enter, first say, 'Peace be to this house!'" So the full word of grace was sent out to them. At the same time, so much the worse for those who rejected it.

Then, though they are in the middle of wolves, let their business be that of peacemakers.

This mission goes out with a message of peace from God to every city and every house. Along with that, the messengers were to greet no one on the way. Jesus is not settling how people deal with each other in society, dear friends. He is settling the connection between God and sinners. That is the great matter, and the Lord must provide for it first… The Lord's messengers were not to carry the courtesies of human life on their lips. They carried a happy, holy, and weighty message from God to sinners.

Do not be discourteous, but do not waste time on useless ceremonies. When you are in God's service, and among God's enemies, God must be everything.

This was a greeting, a wishing well, an announcement of good-will towards the house. It was not an authoritative pronouncement of peace. That would come once a son of peace was found there.

Faith always carries peace to the house. It produces hostility — two against three, and three against two — because some will receive it and some will not. But the thing brought is always peace.

Theirs was a message of peace. If a house welcomed them when they entered a city, God would see that peace was effective in that house. The servant was to stay in that house as long as he stayed in the city. He was not to be ashamed to share the food they offered him. This was God's means of provision, and their labour deserved such recognition.

The testimony is toward Israel, God's chosen nation, whose people were responsible to care for the servants of Israel's Messiah… We have noticed before that these instructions are not a commission for our day, for this was changed completely by the Lord in view of His approaching death (Luke 22:35-37).

The condition of the world now is that it has rejected Christ… we bring the testimony of peace to it — peace that has been made, for the sacrifice has been offered.

"Sons of the resurrection" (Luke 20:36). Compare Hebrew expressions like it that we have already met: "sons of the bride-chamber" (Luke 5:34), "sons of peace" (Luke 10:6), and "sons of this age" (Luke 16:8).

This was a greeting, a wishing well, a declaration of goodwill towards the house. It was not an authoritative pronouncement of peace. That would follow instead, once the son of peace was found to be there.

"Peace be with you," the risen Saviour said to His disciples... and when He said that, He showed them His hands and His side. He let them read their title to peace. Peace was now not merely wished; it was announced with authority, given to them on the ground of the cross. Jesus now gave peace to them, because He had already made it for them... We do not merely say, like the seventy who were sent out, "Peace be to this house," greeting it or wishing it well. We proclaim to it the sure, settled, purchased peace that sinners have a right to, in the blood of the cross.

So the full word of grace went out to them. At the same time, so much the worse for those who rejected it. Nevertheless the peace should turn to them again. It was not war; they had nothing to do with that. "And if a son of peace is there, your peace will rest upon him. But if not, it will return to you." Rejected peace came back to the messengers themselves.

That was a blessing for those they greeted. But those who gave the greeting lost nothing if the message was rejected, and the greeting itself was not lost. In principle that may be true now. When a faithful message is not received, a blessing returns to the messenger.

When they wished peace to a house, the peace would stay there if the son of peace lived there. If not, it would return on them. This is not the gospel sent to the world, to sinners. It is the gospel of the kingdom, sent to those in Israel who had ears to hear.

There were those in Israel who were not children of peace. The remnant would be marked out by the effect of their mission on people's hearts, not yet by judgment. But peace should rest on the children of peace.

Faith always carries peace to the house. It stirs up hostility — two against three, and three against two — because some will receive it and some will not. But the thing brought is always peace.

The Lord Jesus wants us, as His disciples, to represent Him in a world where He is rejected. We are here as sons of peace (Luke 10:6).

The seventy were sent as lambs in the midst of wolves (v.3). As with the twelve in chapter 9:1-5, the Lord told them to carry no provisions with them: no purse (for money), no bag (for food), no extra shoes. The testimony was toward Israel, God's chosen nation, and Israel was responsible to care for the servants of Israel's Messiah… These instructions are not a commission for our day, for the Lord changed this completely in view of His coming death (Luke 22:35-37). But the seventy were to expect the hospitality of the houses they visited… The servant was to remain in that house as long as he stayed in the city, and was not to feel ashamed to share the food they offered. This was God's way of providing, and their labour deserved such recognition. Faith, in its simplicity and humility, would accept this, and would not restlessly try to pass the responsibility for one's keep around to others as well.

There was to be no greed and no self-seeking. They cast themselves on hearts that were loyal to the Messiah, and took such things as were given. The Messiah Himself acknowledges the worthiness of the labourer: the labourer is worthy of his hire… They were not to go from house to house. That would take away from His glory, because it could look like self-seeking.

"Remain in the same house." We had this in the mission of the twelve — "Do not be looking out for better fare." What a defiling thing, to see the followers of Christ trying to make themselves comfortable here!

The labourer is indeed worthy of his food, and of his hire, for there are other needs beyond food. The Lord forgot none of them, as this twofold statement makes plain (Matt. 10:10; Luke 10:7, as cited in 1 Tim. 5:18). So the apostle declares that the Lord ordained that those who preach the gospel should live by the gospel (1 Cor. 9:14), as the law had done before for those who served at the holy things. Yet in the same passage, while he insists on a right so just and true for others, we see this blessed man give it up for himself.

God did use the willing hands of His people here too. But no one thought that they "hired" him, or that he was their labourer. What they gave, it was to God they gave it, and his privilege was to be Christ's servant. His responsibility was to the Lord, and theirs also. They did not understand that they were to get so much work for so much money. They did not pay, but "offered." There is a wonderful difference; for you cannot "pay" God… The moment you pay, God is out of the question.

The saying may well be a proverb, but the apostle quotes the phrase itself as "the scripture." Where did he get it? From the Gospel of Luke (Luke 10:7); for so it stands there word for word, not in Matt. 10:10, where the Lord says the workman is worthy "of his food."… it is a decisive instance of an apostle quoting from another inspired man as "scripture."

The mission of the seventy is found only in Luke. It has in itself a character of grace about it, though really, once rejected, it becomes the herald of judgment about to fall on Israel... Now, as the closing testimony to Israel, this new mission goes out to announce the kingdom of God — not only before the Lord had spoken of His rejection, but after it.

They were to trust (like the twelve apostles) the care of the Messiah, who was present on earth and moved hearts by divine power. They were to go as the Lord's labourers, openly declaring their purpose, not working for their food, but as having a claim on His behalf... Time pressed. Judgment was coming.

They were to eat the food given them, willingly identifying themselves with those who received them.

There was to be no covetousness, no self-seeking. Casting themselves on the loyalty of hearts to the Messiah, they were to take whatever people gave them... They were not to go from house to house. This would take away from His glory, because it could look like self-seeking. The great point was the solemn claim of the Lord Jesus in Israel.

"Do not go looking for better food." What a defiling thing, to see the followers of Christ trying to make themselves comfortable here!

So rejecting this mission would be very serious. The greatness of the grace behind it made unbelief more dangerous, and its judgment more final... It would not alter the truth. They might reject it, but the kingdom of God had come near to them.

In Luke 22:35 the Lord looks back on this very mission and asks, "When I sent you out with no moneybag or knapsack or sandals, did you lack anything?" They said, "Nothing." Then the Lord tells them to provide themselves with a moneybag, a knapsack, and a sword. The very things they were not to take before, they were to take from that time on. The Lord sets aside what He had earlier commanded, so far as the special circumstances went. His goodness and love toward them would remain, and so would their walk in wisdom and harmlessness. But the special character of this mission ended at the death of Christ.

Only Luke records the mission of the Seventy. It has a character of grace about it. Yet once rejected, it heralded the judgment about to fall on Israel.

They were to heal the sick by the miraculous power the Lord gave them. The purpose was to focus attention on their message: the kingdom of God had come near. This kingdom's authority rested in the person of the Lord Jesus, Israel's true King. Yet He made no claim to a kingdom on public display. The kingdom was among men in hidden form. It will be public when the Lord reigns. For now it had come in the person of the King. Many were subject to Him in heart, though He was not yet reigning.

The apostles received delegated power to raise the dead (Matt. 10:8). The seventy received power to heal the sick, which included casting out demons (Luke 10:9, 17). But we have not a word about their raising the dead, and we read of no case of it except by the Lord and the apostles.

There was no lack of power, but the word was, "The kingdom of God has come near to you." This they were to say to them. It was not a matter of a miraculous display to strike the mind or the eye, or of anything for this present life only.

They were to say, "The kingdom of God has come near to you," as well as to heal the sick. What a terrible verdict against this world, that God has to announce His kingdom in it! A well-ordered family would be insulted if you told the children to obey their parents. Yet the world has to be told to submit to God. That alone shows its true condition.

He published God's claims while He met man's need.

This is not just a statement that this or that is God's will. Whatever you do, whether you receive it or reject it, "the kingdom of God has come near to you." The condition of the world now is that it has rejected Christ. The Son of God, the King, has come into the world, put it to the test, and it says, We will not have Him.

That city might reject them. They would then shake off all connection with it, even the very dust its streets had left on their feet. But those who rejected the messengers could not shake off their responsibility. The kingdom of God had come near, and they had cared nothing about it. People may indulge in carelessness, indifference and scoffing, but a day of reckoning must come... What a responsibility rests on anyone who gets the chance to hear the message of God! It was so then. It is so now.

The number of those sent shows the urgency of the message, as the woe added upon the cities of Israel implies the nearing judgment of the nation. In practice, though not openly, everything was already decided. So the only result could be the separation of a remnant from a people who had doomed themselves. Yet the kingdom of God has come near, and its glories are opening more than ever before. They are still hidden from eyes that have no care to see them.

So the rejection of this mission would be most serious. The very measure of grace it springs from would make unbelief the more dangerous, and the judgment of it more final.

If His subjects refused such a message from the King, the servants were to leave and wipe the very dust of the city off their feet, as a testimony against that city. It was to be a solemn act of separation, giving up all connection with the city that rejected their Lord. Preaching the gospel today calls for no such action. The gospel goes to people in an evil world, not to cities. But cities are earthly, and these cities were tied to God's earthly people Israel. As cities, they would suffer for refusing their Messiah.

If anyone rejected them, they were to bow to it, and yet shake the dust off their feet against such people. The servant was not to strive, but God would surely remember it, for these were His messengers, and this was the treatment they got.

That city might reject them. They would then shake off all connection with it, even the very dust its streets had left on their feet. But there was something those who rejected the messengers could not shake off — their responsibility. The kingdom of God had come near, and they had cared nothing about it. They might indulge in carelessness, indifference and scoffing, but a day of reckoning must come.

People tend to judge how free they are to refuse the message by looking at the messengers. The right thing is to think whose messengers they are, and to own it. The One who sends them is received or refused, depending on whether the messengers are welcomed or not.

It is not just that such and such a thing is God's will. Whatever you do, whether you receive it or reject it, "the kingdom of God has come near to you." The world's condition now is that it has rejected Christ. The Son of God, the King, has come into the world, put it to the test, and it says, We will not have Him. That fact has not lost its solemnity now. We are walking through a world that has rejected Christ, and we bring the testimony of peace to it — peace that has been made, for the sacrifice has been offered.

In sending out these seventy we see the same patient grace at work as when He sent out the twelve. If they were not received, they were to shake the dust off their feet. God's love never stops, whatever the wickedness of man, until His work is done. His grace never fails. Christ looks at the power of grace in God more than at the wickedness of men.

They were to say, "The kingdom of God has come near to you," as well as to heal the sick. What a terrible verdict against this world, that God has to publish His kingdom in it! A well-run family would take it as an insult if you told the children to obey their parents. But the world has to be told to obey God — and that only shows its true condition.

If His subjects refused such a message from the King, the servants were to leave. They were to wipe the very dust of the city off their feet, as a testimony against the city. It was to be a solemn act of separation, refusing all connection with the city that rejected their Lord.

That city might reject them. They would then shake off all connection with it, even the very dust collected there by their feet. But those who rejected the messengers could not shake off one thing — their responsibility. For the kingdom of God had come near, and they had cared nothing about it. They might go on being careless, indifferent or scoffing. But a day of reckoning must come.

"The kingdom of God has come near to you." This is not just a statement that such and such a thing is God's will. Whatever you do, whether you receive it or reject it, "the kingdom of God has come near to you." The world's condition now is that it has rejected Christ. The Son of God, the King, has come into the world, put it to the test, and it says, We will not have Him.

So the rejection of this mission would be very serious. The measure of the grace it springs from would make unbelief all the more dangerous, and the judgment of it all the more final... It would not change the truth. They might reject, but the kingdom of God had come near to them.

The number of those sent shows how urgent the message was. The woe added on the cities of Israel implies that judgment on the nation was near... Yet the kingdom of God has come near. Its glories are opening more than ever before, though hidden from eyes that have no care to see them.

That city might reject them. They would then shake off all connection with it, even the very dust collected there by their feet. But there was something the rejecters of the messengers could not shake off — their responsibility. The kingdom of God had come near, and they had cared nothing about it. They might indulge in carelessness, indifference, or scoffing. But a day of reckoning must come.

Wiping off the dust is not how the gospel goes out today, because the gospel goes to individuals in an evil world, not to cities… But cities are earthly, and these cities were connected with God's earthly people Israel. As cities they would suffer for refusing their Messiah. Sodom's judgment would be more tolerable than God's judgment on a city that rejected them (v.12). The reason is that Sodom never had the witness of the Lord Jesus present in person. So Sodom was not as responsible as these cities.

The Lord attaches a more awful judgment to the words of His disciples than to His own. He does this because people were more likely to despise the disciples than their Master. People might use this against His disciples and say they were only men with the same passions as themselves, and that they had faults — and so they did. But the question was, what was their testimony, their mission, and from whom? … They testified of God's kingdom at hand. There was nothing ever presented to man to compare with this.

It is very solemn and very striking about Sodom. At the Great White Throne, those who rejected Christ will face a harsher judgment and a harsher penalty than even the filthy people of Sodom. God alone knows how to apportion the measure of guilt to each. The greatest guilt that can rest on any soul is the rejection of Him.

The Gentile will not be judged on the same ground as the Jew, nor the Jew on the same ground as the nominal Christian. God will deal with each one on his own ground, according to his light and privilege… The Judge of all the earth will do right. But man is responsible, and God measures that responsibility by the light and advantage He gave him. All are not huddled together carelessly, as though they were all on one common ground. On the contrary, God distinguishes with perfect accuracy. He will never condemn anyone for slighting and refusing advantages that were never within his reach.

This is a solemn principle far too easily and too often forgotten. People are quick to pity those who have never heard, and to think of distant lands… But there is no greater delusion than this: to suppose that when the judgment comes, people will be better off in England than in central Asia. No doubt, wherever there is faith in a rejected Christ, that faith will bring people into heavenly glory. But rejecting Christ is fatal — whether when He was on earth, or now that He is in heaven… Privileges despised or misused bring only a deeper ruin on those who reject or pervert them.

The mission of the seventy comes before us next, and only Luke records it. It has a solemn and final character, with an urgency beyond that of the twelve in chapter 9. It is an errand of grace, since the One who sent them had a heart that longed over a great harvest of blessing. But it carries a last warning with it, and He pronounces woes here on the cities where He had worked in vain.

With what deep and awful solemnity the word "Woe!" falls on the ear, coming from the lips of the Son of God. It is the woe that follows rejected grace. It is no longer only a question of a broken law. It is no longer only ordinances dishonoured and abused, God-given institutions shamefully corrupted, prophets and wise men rejected and stoned.

The Lord was not at all unfeeling about His rejection. He felt it deeply, though in a spirit of grace… He had shown His power in blessings and in testimony. It had all been in vain. He had reproached them for the hardness of their heart. He had spent Himself for them, but their hearts felt nothing. Neither Tyre nor Sidon, neither Sodom nor Gomorrah would have stayed unmoved in the same circumstances. They would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.

Tyre and Sidon were nothing like Jerusalem. They were known everywhere for their wickedness. The Lord picks them out as such when He says… He holds them up as two of the vilest cities He could have named.

Why then did He not do these works in Tyre and Sidon? Because He was sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and would give them every opportunity to repent.

No doubt Tyre and Sidon will not be condemned for not seeing what they could not see: no one believes they will. But they are responsible for the light they had. There is a "more tolerable" judgment, "few stripes" instead of "many."

This is a solemn principle, far too easily and too often forgotten. People tend to pity those in distant lands who have never heard. It is right for those who rejoice in the Lord to feel for people who lack Him. But there is no greater delusion than to think that at the judgment people will be better off in England than in central Asia… Israel did have its privileges, no doubt. But privileges despised or misused only bring a deeper ruin on those who reject or twist them.

But does this not speak to people today who hear the gospel and have every privilege? It certainly does… The higher the place of privilege, the deeper must be the fall of those who are untrue. They have only the name of Christ, without the reality.

That city might reject them. They would then shake off all connection with it, even the very dust collected there by their feet. But there was something those who rejected the messengers could not shake off — their responsibility. The kingdom of God had come near, and they had cared nothing about it. They might give themselves to carelessness, indifference, and scoffing, but a day of reckoning must come.

It will be "more tolerable" for some in the day of judgement than for others. Not that the place or duration of punishment varies for any of the lost. Eternity in the lake of fire is the portion of all who die in their sins. Yet the Saviour speaks of "few stripes" and "many stripes," showing degrees of severity in the divine inflictions.

The Gentile will not be judged on the same ground as the Jew, and the Jew not on the same ground as the person who is a Christian in name only. Each will be dealt with on his own distinct ground and according to his light and privilege... All are not huddled together carelessly, as though they were all on one common ground. Instead, God makes the most exact distinctions. No one will ever be condemned for despising and refusing advantages that were never within his reach.

He says that if Tyre and Sidon, cities outside Israel, had seen the mighty works He did in Chorazin and Bethsaida, those cities would have repented in sackcloth and ashes long before. Why then did He not do these works there? Because He was sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and would give them every opportunity to repent.

The comparison shows that the Lord does not say Tyre and Sidon could have been brought to God and saved in that way. He does say they would at least have been moved and humbled, like Nineveh, by a visit from God that the cities of Israel met with hard indifference.

God had already judged Tyre and Sidon; Nebuchadnezzar, for instance, destroyed them. But God has not finished with them. Temporal judgments are not eternal ones. They will have to appear before the Great White Throne. It is then that it will be more tolerable for them. They were an immoral people. But their guilt was not as great as the guilt of those who rejected the testimony of Christ. Their punishment will not be as great either.

This is a solemn principle much too easily and too often forgotten. People are apt to pity the heathen and to think of distant lands... there cannot be a greater mistake than to think that, when the judgment comes, people will be better off simply for living in England instead of Tartary... Israel was certainly privileged. But privileges despised or misused bring only deeper ruin on those who reject or twist them.

On some of these towns — the scene of His work, which He was now leaving — He passes sentence Himself. In declaring the distinct judgment of each place, He shows His title, His power and His righteous judgment. Here is divine knowledge, competence and title. Here is the announcement of the judgment of God, known to Him before the time arrives — and yet all this done as a Servant! Note, too, that the Lord never says "Woe" at the beginning of His course.

It is remarkable to find that Capernaum was the very place which saw the first goings out of His wonder-working power, and His words too — the teaching of the great servant-prophet in this world. That is what made Capernaum's great exaltation. It was lifted up to heaven — how? Because it saw His mightiest works. It was allowed to see the divine display of power in the words as well as in the works of our Lord Jesus Christ. And so it was privileged.

We should drop our English word "hell" here and put "hades," meaning the unseen, in its place. People have tried to fix the location of hades. It is impossible to do so. Hades is a state, not a place. It is the condition of all people, good and bad, after death and before the resurrection. For believers, hades is to be with Christ; for unbelievers, hades is to be in torment.

Capernaum did not repent at the preaching of Jesus. Its unbelieving people must each answer for themselves in a day of judgment still to come. And this, the Lord's own city in Galilee, has been so fully overthrown that no one can identify its site with certainty.

This is a solemn principle far too easily and too often forgotten. People are apt to pity the heathen and to think of distant lands... there cannot be a greater delusion than to think that, when the judgment comes, people, considered simply as people, will be better off in England than in Tartary... Israel was indeed privileged. But privileges despised or misused only bring a deeper ruin on those who reject or twist them.

Capernaum, where He had mainly lived, was exalted to heaven in the greatness of this privilege, and so would be brought down to the desolation of hades. If the mighty works done there had been done in Sodom, the Lord says it would have remained to this day. Here the Lord must be referring to eternal judgment, for Sodom was totally destroyed and so already received a complete judgment in time. It will be more bearable for Sodom in the day of judgment than for Capernaum. Luke 12:47-48 shows that though all unbelievers will be sent to hell, there will still be different degrees of punishment for them, depending on the measure of responsibility.

Privileges not valued bring the severest judgment from God. How far does this principle apply to our favoured land?

These seventy did not have the distinguished place of the twelve apostles, but they still stood for the Lord in full, as verse 16 makes clear. The verse sets out the same principle as Luke 9:48, only here the Lord carries the matter back to "Him who sent Me." The seventy might be ordinary people, yet much depended on how people took their message.

The Lord clothes the words of His disciples with a more awful judgment than His own, because people were more likely to despise the disciples than their Master. People might take advantage of His disciples and say they were only men with the same weaknesses as themselves, and that they had their faults — and so they did. But the question was this: what was their testimony, what was their mission, and who sent them? What blessings did they hold out? What penalties did God threaten against those who scorned them? They testified of God's kingdom at hand… now that it was near, to despise those who preached it would be to despise Jesus and God Himself, while to listen to them would be a true way of honouring Jesus.

It was contempt of God Himself — and this in the middle of all the painstaking care of grace, and the loving desire that His people should have the truth. It is still worse now when people refuse the Gospel. Its message is the revelation not only of the kingdom but of the grace of God that brings salvation. To put it away from the soul is to insult God in the depth of His love, and knowingly to reject His mercy for eternity… Whether then or now, to reject His testimony, no matter who brings it, is to reject Himself and God.

In the original language, the verb seems to mean slighting or disregarding the claims the law had on them, as if those claims were not worth recognising… The Lord used this same word when He spoke to the seventy about their preaching.

To reject a servant who is really sent out by the Lord, and who is doing His will and standing for Him, is to reject the Lord Himself. God taught Samuel this lesson. Samuel was displeased with Israel for wanting a king to judge them like the other nations… Like a true man of God he prayed about it, and in answer the Lord told him to listen to the voice of the people: "They have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them." … Blessed is that servant who, through grace, is so hidden behind his Lord that he is lost in the Lord's aims and interests, and thinks only of HIS honour and HIS claims.

Where is there any allusion to the church or its authority here? It has always been true that to receive or reject the servant is to receive or reject the One who sent him. Here the servant is heard because he came to them in Messiah's name. We know from Matthew 16:18 and other scriptures that the church on earth did not yet exist. It could not exist until the Holy Spirit came down, as recorded in Acts chapter 2.

The seventy finished their mission, gave their testimony, and came back saying, "Lord, even the demons are subject to us through your name." This was a great witness to Messiah's power. Men in Israel always looked — the faithful most of all — for God to show His power over Satan through the Messiah in the world... And now what a sign and a seal He gave! He cast out demons, and His servants did the same through His name.

He gave others the power to work miracles, to heal the sick, to cleanse the lepers, to raise the dead, to cast out demons. As another has said, any man may work a wonder if God empowers him; but none except God can give the power to do so. Elijah's cloak fell on Elisha; but when Elisha used it, he asked, "Where is the Lord God of Elijah?" The disciples, though, cast out demons in His name — the name of Jesus — when He sent them. They used in His name the power that He had given them.

He who sends us out to act in His name sustains us in the mission with all His power. No one goes to war at his own expense at any time. His name, indeed, when rightly borne and used, carries omnipotence with it. So when the seventy returned to the Lord, they said, "Lord, even the demons are subject to us" — not "through" Your name, as some translate it, but "in Your name."... So the mission and the power to carry it out belong together. Only faith — faith in action — is the essential condition for using that power.

They should have expected this, since the Lord had sent them for it. He did not encourage their excitement over the work, though He did speak of seeing Satan fall from heaven...

"Subject to us," they said; not going in thought beyond themselves. But the Lord took at once a comprehensive view of it all. He knew what it pointed to — the downfall of the enemy. They spoke of the demons. He spoke of Satan... The subjection of the demons to His name was the guarantee of complete victory over all the power of the enemy. As yet men might not, did not see that. It was like the cloud the size of a man's hand, which Elijah's servant saw. But that cloud grew until it covered the whole sky. In the same way, the enemy's power had begun to give way, and it would be destroyed completely.

They had been preaching their first sermons and performing their first miracles. They were therefore exposed to the deadly trap of the beginner... But the Lord showed them that their immature judgment had made them miss the true proportion of things. The gifts of grace far exceeded in value the equipment for service. Their names were written in heaven and not in the dust of the earth.

No power over evil can be compared to the joy of His grace. That power is real now, and in the end it will display the full glory of God. But the joy of grace is greater: not merely seeing Satan turned out, but God brought in. And meanwhile, in the communion of the Father and of the Son, they have their portion and their names enrolled in heaven.

The Lord said He gave the disciples authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy. He was speaking of the hostility of demons. He would also protect the disciples from the harm satanic power wants to do. But this was not meant to draw attention to the messengers. It pointed to Him, the blessed Lord of glory, who gave this authority Himself.

They spoke of the demons. He spoke of Satan. "I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven," He said. The demons obeying His name was the first instalment of complete victory over all the power of the enemy. At the time people did not see that. It was like the cloud the size of a man's hand, which Elijah's servant saw. But that cloud grew until it covered the whole sky. In the same way, the power of the enemy had begun to give way and would be destroyed entirely. His final defeat was certain.

What peace it gives our souls to see Christ's power over all creation, and Satan's power all broken! In the new age this will be shown in full. The miracles the disciples worked were a sign of that energy and power of the Son of Man. The world to come will know it.

These crowds of satanic agents cause intense anguish. It is like the torment of the scorpion's poisonous sting. The scorpion avoids the light, and people across Africa and Asia dread it with good reason. The sting is not often deadly, but the suffering is dreadful… In Luke 10:19 the Lord connects serpents, scorpions, and the power of the enemy with the fall of Satan.

His name, when rightly borne and used, carries omnipotence with it. So when the seventy returned to the Lord, they said, "Lord, even the demons are subject to us in Your name!" The word is "in" His name, not "through" it, as some older translations read. "Yes," replied the Lord, "behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy." The mission and the power to carry it out belong together. Only one thing is needed to use that power: faith, faith in action.

It is not that He undervalues power, or withdraws it from them. No, He rejoices in it, and confirms it in their hands, saying, "I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions." But there is something better. The children's home in heaven is more precious than the earthly power of the heirs of God.

They spoke of the demons. He spoke of Satan. "I saw," He said, "Satan fall like lightning from heaven." The demons' obedience to His name guaranteed complete victory over all the power of the enemy. Men did not see that yet. It was like the cloud the size of a man's hand which Elijah's servant saw. That cloud grew until it covered the whole sky. In the same way, the enemy's power had begun to give way, and it would be wiped out completely. His final overthrow was certain.

But the Lord showed them that their immature judgment had made them miss the true proportion of things. The endowments of grace far exceeded in value the equipment for service. Their names were written in heaven and not in the dust of the earth. Being enrolled for heavenly blessing was the right thing to rejoice in, rather than the power over unclean spirits handed to them.

Power over evil is real now, and in the end it will display the full glory of God. Even so, it cannot be compared to the joy of His grace — the joy of seeing not only Satan turned out, but God brought in.

The figure is a simple one. Our names are enrolled in the city or district where we live. The Lord said to these men, in effect: heavenly citizenship is to be yours. That is a greater cause of rejoicing than any power given on earth. Luke's Gospel gives us the change from law to grace and from earth to heaven. This verse is a clear landmark along the way.

This was something entirely new for the disciples. They had no doubt believed in the resurrection of the dead. But they expected a portion on earth after being raised. Instead, the Lord points towards heaven. There God in His grace had written their names, to give them a portion with Christ Himself.

There was, however, something greater than this in which they could rejoice: their names were "written in heaven." … God had marked them out for a place in heaven. That is PREDESTINATION. God had marked them out for heavenly citizenship. It was His purpose before time began. They could not have written their names there. The names were already there — a truth never before made known to the sons of men.

And so it is with all true believers. Gifts, service and miracles can never touch this basic fact: they rest for themselves alone upon Christ and His work. … Paul was sure of his present and eternal security, for he knew whom he had believed. He did not rest one shred of his soul's salvation on his apostleship and ministry. As our Lord said to His disciples when they rejoiced that they could cast out demons, "rejoice that your names are written in heaven."

Let us rejoice that our names are written in the "Lamb's book of life." Scripture never speaks of any name being erased from that book. The names are there because Jesus, God's Lamb, died. They will remain there to the eternal glory of God's blessed Son.

In that same hour — the hour when the seventy rejoiced — Jesus Himself rejoiced. He saw not only the coming fall of Satan, and with it the ruin of all his evil plans, but also the Father at work to establish all His own plans. At the base of those bright plans lay this: He Himself is to be fully revealed and known, and "babes", not the wise and clever of this world, are to receive that revelation.

The seventy had rejoiced in the power they were given. He, who had received all power, found His joy in the Father acting as He willed, and revealing things to babes. What a difference!

Here we learn the secret of the Son's joy. If there was sorrow over what His people Israel had done in rejecting Him and His works, He could still rejoice in the Father and in the Father's will. If Israel shut its door against Him, the Son saw the Father open another door for others to enter. In this there would be greater glory for the Father and greater joy for His heart. The wise and prudent of Israel, the leaders of the people, knew nothing of the Father's secret plans for the blessing of men. But those whom the great of the earth despised — the Lord's humble disciples — received from the Son this wonderful knowledge of the Father and of His purposes of eternal love.

By the world's standards "the wise and prudent" were left in the dark, while babes — those who took a lowly place of submission — were shown what is of eternal, vital value. People who think of themselves as wise usually accept only what they can reason out. The sheer simplicity of what God offers His creatures trips them up. Meanwhile the unquestioning faith of babes accepts it and understands it without difficulty.

Human wisdom failed. That was fitting, even necessary. How could it, low and earthly as it is, understand God's ways? These things were hidden, and hidden by the Lord of all from the wise and prudent. He puts man's wisdom in its place, its true moral place. But grace revealed them to the simple and modest — to the unsuspecting trust of the babe.

What men prize highly, God counts an abomination. He had revealed His mind to babes. This was clearly grace. There was no claim; and babes would have seemed the very last people to whom God would reveal what lay beyond the wise and prudent... And grace does not find objects fit for itself; it makes them, for God's glory. Grace creates; the law does not.

Grace meets a ruined world once the law's order is set aside. Jesus, rejected by those who boasted of the law, rejoices in the grace of God and thanks Him as the Father — the One whom the law never revealed. He was Father in His own divine relationship to the Son, far beyond the knowledge of men or the reach of their thoughts and imagination... All through that time God was veiled, dwelling in thick darkness, not revealed as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Hopes are no longer limited to the earth. God is now looked to as Lord of heaven and earth — sovereign over all things.

Knowing God means everything must be good to us, because it comes from Him. It may go strongly against our nature. Men's rejection of His message was of course painful to Jesus. It threw Him back on the sovereignty of God His Father, whom He knew.

It was His pleasure; He took delight in His own love.

It is not now just the land of Israel or the Jewish people, but "all things." The Son of Man has all things handed over to Him. That is a higher glory even than rule over all peoples and languages. It is the universe put under Him, and this because He is the Son of God... But He speaks of a far deeper blessing and glory than even this universal inheritance.

The Son of God was there. The Father had handed all things over to Him, and no one knew the Son but the Father. He was there in the full truth of His person, and no one knew it. In His humiliation His divinity was guarded, because no one could search out His person.

Men saw the Son as a Man. Yet "no one knows who the Son is except the Father." The Son had not come to reveal Himself. There is a divine mystery about the Son that only the Father knows, and that should stop anyone from speculating about the Person of the Son. Some things about Him can be known, and some things cannot be known.

There are two steps in knowing the Father: (1) the Son reveals Him, and (2) then those to whom the Son reveals Him know Him too. With the Son there is only one step. In the sense of this verse, only the Father knows Him, and that is true for ever.

"All things have been handed over to Me by My Father." What was Christ's thought about this universal power? "I have the secret of the Father. I have power to reveal Him. I will look out for some to whom the Father can be revealed." That is the thought of Christ's heart. Does that not tell us a great deal about His character? What a contrast to ourselves. If we had all things in our power, what would we do with them all?

The Son was making the Father known, but only as He chose. So men depended on the will and grace of the Son to know the Father. It was a new revelation. How blessed those must be who share in it.

Zophar's question still challenges the "explainers": "Can you find out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limit of the Almighty?"... It is not equally the Father's will to explain the complex Person of the Son, as it is the Son's will to reveal the Father. But a son does not know his father simply by the fact of human birth. And how can this unique mutual knowledge, existing between the Father and the Son, depend on or originate in the Incarnation?

He then turned to His disciples privately (v. 23). He spoke not to the great and noble men of the earth, but to those who were little more than "babes." He told them that their eyes were blessed in seeing what they were seeing... How little the disciples realised and valued the wonder of it! The great Creator had come down among them in gracious Manhood, the One in whom all the fullness of the Godhead lived in bodily form.

Turning to His disciples privately He said, "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!" — that is, the understanding perception of Messiah's power now revealed, for it took in everything else He had just been looking ahead to. But He brings them back in joy to the present object of their faith (whatever the outcome in His mind). For this real showing of the Messiah had been the longing desire of many a prophet and king. They passed from the scene below without ever gaining their deep wish — blessed and honoured as they were, but not as these were. Such is the effect on the soul of a well-understood rejection!

No one would say that the Lord tied this blessedness to mere outward seeing and hearing. Elsewhere He describes that outward seeing in another way, and He contrasts it with the real understanding of the disciples: "because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand... But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear."

We can look back at the privileges of the fathers of Israel, of the prophets and the kings of Old Testament times — how the Lord appeared to them and spoke to them. Great as these things were, they could not compare with the presence of the Son of God come in flesh, with the words He spoke and the works He did.

We must admit something about the words before us. However much the men of old loved the coming Messiah, their love could not have the drive and strength that the power of His infinite grace gave to renewed hearts. Those hearts followed His steps, hung on His words, and delighted in His ways here below. The Lord could say, "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!" Yet even that wonderful privilege was clearly less than the mighty gain brought in by His death, resurrection and ascension. This is even more true once God gave the Holy Spirit, to grasp it all fully and to bear witness to it.

Day by day a display of heavenly deeds like no other moved before the eyes of these privileged men. Yet none of the apostles truly saw the wonder of the Messiah and His ways. The Lord Himself said to His disciples privately, "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!" But to the very men He called blessed He also said, in reproof, "Having eyes, do you not see? Having ears, do you not hear?"

Luke 10:18-24 gives a wonderfully full revelation of all that was in Christ's heart at that moment when He was going away. There are the "names written in heaven," and the revelation "to babes." There is the Son, too glorious to be known — that was His true character. There is the Father, known to Him only and to those He revealed Him to. And there is the blessing of those whose eyes had been opened to see what they saw by His presence. It is an exquisite expression of Christ's heart when passing from this world to the Father.

The Father was working, revealing things to babes. The Son was revealing the Father, as He alone could, who knew Him as the Father. There was something men could not know — the Son. That is for the Father alone to know. There was something they could know — the Father — and the Son was making Him known, but as He chose. So men depended on the will and grace of the Son to know the Father. It was a new revelation. Blessed must they be who share in it… What a privilege the disciples enjoyed — and Christians enjoy it too!

The Lord did not attach this blessedness to mere outward seeing and hearing. He describes that kind of seeing elsewhere, and He contrasts it with the intelligent understanding of the disciples: "seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand… But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear."

Day after day a unique display of heavenly deeds passed before the eyes of these privileged men. Yet none of the apostles truly grasped the wonder of the Messiah and His ways… And to these same blessed men He said in rebuke, "You have eyes — do you not see? You have ears — do you not hear?"

Many prophets and many kings waited for God's covenant with longing patience. They passed their days on earth as strangers and travellers, until that day of Christ should come — the day that would justify and reward the long-tried patience of their souls.

Many prophets and righteous men had wanted to see what the disciples saw, but they never lived to see that day. Will they lose their joy? No. They will see the day of Christ's glory. They will see the harvest that grew from the seed they sowed in patience and under difficulty — a harvest known perhaps only to themselves and to God.

Even that wonderful privilege was less than the mighty increase brought in by His death, and resurrection, and ascension. This was true above all when the Holy Spirit was given, so that they could grasp it all fully and bear witness to it.

I know of nothing more deadening to the conscience, nothing more damaging to the spiritual life, than to handle holy truths while they have no power in our hearts. The same is true when we fail to realise what a wonderful privilege we have… The Lord Jesus could say that to His disciples when He was here on earth. How much more does it apply to us? We have received the Holy Spirit, the wonderful unfolding of the secrets of the very heart of God.

A teacher of the law, one who explained the law. Nicodemus was probably one, for the Lord called him a "teacher of Israel." The Lord said of the lawyers that they put heavy burdens on others but did not touch them themselves. In their explanations they took away the key of knowledge.

The "tempting" was, of course, to test the Lord's orthodoxy.

As a matter of fact his question spoiled the atmosphere of the chapter. The Lord had sent out the 70 disciples on a special mission of grace. He was occupied with names written in heaven, with the Father being revealed, with the wonderful fruits of grace. He "rejoiced in spirit" (v. 21) and pronounced a special blessing on the eyes that saw these wonderful things (v. 23) — things that had never been told before. But the lawyer appears completely insensitive to the greatness of the moment. His question is an entirely legalistic one: "What shall I do …?" or, "having done what …?"

All His inquirers seemed to be of one mind in supposing it to be the reward of human effort... It was natural for them to speak this way. Among people, nothing worth having comes except by money or work. But suppose they had realised man's true condition in God's sight, and their own condition in particular. Then they would have spoken differently. Has not the Spirit of God described men as "dead in the trespasses and sins"? (Eph. 2:1). What can the dead do? Did not the Saviour compare men to a debtor who "could not pay"? (Luke 7:42). What price can bankrupts pay?

The poor broken-hearted jailer at Philippi asked a far different question, and one more fitting for a sinner — what he should do to be saved. The lawyer was not in earnest; he was a mere theorist. It was a subject for a discourse or an argument. There was no real concern about his soul, no sense of his own condition or of what God is... The Lord answers him, "What is written in the Law? How do you read it?" because, when he took this ground of doing something to inherit eternal life, he had really put himself under the law.

He goes far beyond it, and brings to light what the lawyer had to learn. The lawyer was concerned with principles of the law. But the law did not come in to give life to man. It came in to prove what his state was long before the law came in. The law did not produce that state, but it most definitely brought it to light.

Then the Law is morally turned into grace as far as man down here is concerned. It is not: "Who is my neighbour?" But to whom am I neighbour, as the good Samaritan was? Priests and Levites are not grace.

The lawyer was not in earnest; he was a mere theorist. It was a subject for a discourse or argument. There was no real concern about his soul, no sense of his own condition or of what God is. The Lord answers him, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?" because, when he took this ground of doing something to inherit eternal life, he had really gone to the law... He says this because He is going to convict him of the complete futility of all efforts on that ground.

The Lord read his heart, and, no doubt to his surprise, made him answer his own question, and that from the book with which he claimed real acquaintance. "What shall I do?" asked the man, implying that, lawyer though he was, he did not know how to get that blessing. Claiming ignorance, he effectively took the ground that God had not supplied the information needed. For why ask the Lord about something that the lawgiver had answered ages before?

What we have to see is this: that the great law-question, "What must I do?" is here raised and answered. If a man is to get life by keeping the commandments, he must keep them. There is no mystery about this. It is so plain that the question is, "How do you read it?" A man has only to read Exodus 20 to know his duty toward God and his duty toward his neighbour.

The lawyer's response showed that, like many today, he knew the letter of the law. But he knew nothing of its killing, condemning power, which lays the conscience bare and shows him the depravity of his own evil heart. He answered without hesitation, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart... and your neighbor as yourself," to which our Lord replied, "You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live."

The lawyer's answer (from Deuteronomy 6:5) was the best the law could possibly give, for it is a most striking summing up of the whole law. But how strong and uncompromising are its demands! Who has loved the Lord God with his whole heart, his whole soul, his whole strength, his whole mind? It is impossible to think of this being true of anyone except the Lord Jesus Himself.

The lawyer knew the law of Moses, and hoped to inherit eternal life by law-keeping. But he had to learn that the law had no power to give life... The life which we have is life in Christ, and the power of that life is in the Holy Spirit.

Christ's hour was not yet come; as to the ways of God, the door was not yet shut; the Christ was not yet rejected. Jesus said to him, "Do this, and you will live." The lawyer had not asked, What must I do to be saved? but what to do to inherit eternal life. Had a man fulfilled the law (though we know man was incapable of it), he would have had eternal life. But now, if there is not the knowledge of the Father and the Son, there is no eternal life.

The lawyer was not in earnest; he was a mere theorist. There was no real concern about his soul, no sense of his own condition or of what God is... This was excellent as a statement of duty: nothing could be better; but how had he done it? And what hope was there for his soul on any such footing as this?... He could not do it, and on that ground he could not live. He was dead, though he did not know it himself, morally dead while he lived.

The law demanded love. That very fact shows the demand came from God's own nature, and that nature is love — "God is love." And the law does not just ask for love from the whole heart, as people sometimes say. It asks for love from the whole being!

First, God is one and He never changes: "The LORD our God, the LORD is one." On this rests His claim to the undivided loyalty of man... If there is only one God, there is no other to share the heart with. The LORD claims the whole of it in the most absolute way. The words stand for the inner man, with all his affections, and in their full energy.

In the first four commandments we have the claims of law in relation to God, and in the last six those claims in relation to man... If such a demand as that is made upon fallen man, he can no more meet it than create a world.

Some read the second part of the great commandment as a limit on how far love to our neighbour must go, as though we need not love him better than that. Weigh the obligation that way and we lose the very principle. Self-love becomes the judge of how far we go in kindness to our neighbour. What is meant instead is a holy urgency that joins another's interests to our own in unity of love, not setting his claims against ours... Love to our neighbour is different in nature from love to God.

The law does not give life, and it does not give strength... Neither does the law give a motive to love. It tells me to love God with all my heart (and conscience admits I ought to do so), but why? Because I shall be cursed if I do not. But that will not produce love... Have you loved God with all your heart? Has there been no love of anything else?

All this love, this costly and needed love, we have in the Son of God, the Stranger from heaven, the True Good Samaritan. He kept the law of love to His neighbour — He alone. So we must learn the way from Him. We must do "likewise," and kindle our heart at His heart, if we hope in any way to answer that end of the law... We see nothing worthy of that word... until we trace the well-spent life of Jesus.

The law says, "You shall love the Lord your God," and conscience approves this. It also says, Do this, or you shall die. But that terrible alternative can never bring my affections back to Him from whom they have wandered. "We love Him because He first loved us" (1 John 4:19). An apostle certifies this as the Christian experience of grace, and it fulfils in us the righteousness of the law.

The Lord answers him, "What is written in the law? how do you read it?" He asks this because the man, by taking the ground of doing something to inherit eternal life, had really taken himself to the law. So the Lord in His wisdom answers the fool according to his folly. A fool thinks he can keep the law, and that this is the way to inherit eternal life. The Lord asks His question because He is going to convict him of the utter futility of all efforts on that ground.

The man answered rightly: the law's supreme demand was for love — first towards God, and then towards one's neighbour. Jesus had only to say, "do this, and you will live" — not, "have eternal life," but just, "live." There is no life on earth unless the law is kept.

The principle of the law was, "Do this, and you will live." It was not, "Do your best," as people are so fond of saying, but "do THIS" — it was to be 100% or nothing. 99% would not do; it must be perfection or — condemnation.

A sinless being, who had life, did not need a law of righteousness to gain it; a sinful creature with a law of righteousness could only be condemned. "Do this and live" is not written on the gate of heaven. It was written on Sinai, which is not the gate of heaven. It is the gate of death and condemnation.

But he was dead. The law never deals with man as dead... The Gospels and Epistles treat man as dead and as needing eternal life, which the Son of God alone can give; and He gives it, not by law but by grace — two totally opposite principles... He was dead, though he did not know it himself — morally dead while he lived.

The only answer the lawyer made when the Lord said "do this, and you will live" was an effort to justify himself... If we let our thoughts move in a legal sphere, we at once try to justify ourselves. The only way to be freed from the principle of self-justification is to get into the realm where grace is known.

The Lord does not go into why man cannot have life on the ground of law. Instead, in the parable of the Good Samaritan, He shows that the law could not help man in his natural condition. The priest and the Levite stand for that law. Only His own intervention in grace could recover man from his hopeless condition. Grace also cares for him until He comes to take us into the full joys of eternal life.

Under the law, men had to do in order to live. Under the Gospel, God brings us into life so that we may do His will. It is easy to forget this, and treat Christianity as though it were simply an exalted philosophy to entertain our minds.

"But he, desiring to justify himself, said." Why justify himself when no one accused him? Ah, conscience had spoken in him. His excuse was the evidence of a sense of fault, which his proud heart still rose up to resist. Dear reader, do you want to justify yourself before God? Sadly, that is the natural instinct. But the very effort shows you dare not leave the matter to God, in whose hands it alone rests.

He is fighting with himself, even if he does not see it. He has not yet come to realise that it is the heart, and not merely the head as he would like to put it, that is astray. He passes over the "first and great commandment of the law," which he has stated so clearly, and takes up the second. There he shelters himself under a question that he never imagines will turn against him — and it does, terribly: "And who is my neighbour?"

The question of the scribe in Luke 10:29, "And who is my neighbour?" shows that the Jews had restricted the meaning of this commandment. God meant them to see a neighbour in every fellow-man. They refused, and counted only their own people as neighbours. In this way they shut the Gentiles, the "uncircumcised," out of their love. The strict scribes and Pharisees went further still. They refused to count ordinary Jews as neighbours, and treated them as cursed for not knowing the law.

It took no great cleverness to see the meaning of that word, "neighbour." But the moral consequences were serious. If it meant what it said, had he ever in his life felt and acted as if he had a neighbour? So he gave it up... It was the fallen heart of man wanting to escape a plain duty — a duty that demanded love, the last thing in the world he had. The great difficulty was himself; and so he sought to justify himself — an utter impossibility! For in truth he was a sinner; and the thing for him is to confess his sins.

The lawyer only wished to justify himself. He wanted a clear list of everyone who had a claim on him, so that he might have no outstanding debts. We know for ourselves the satisfaction of being able to say, "I owe nothing." So that question came from love of himself, not love of his neighbour. Where love is in exercise, it does not ask Who? but has its own delight in acting apart from the question of who deserves it.

Man under the law measured himself by the importance he could attach to himself. That is always the opposite of love... The Samaritan, despised as he was, did not ask who was his neighbour. The love that was in his heart made him a neighbour to anyone who was in need. This is what God Himself did in Christ. Before that principle, the distinctions of law and flesh vanished. Love acted from its own impulse, and found its opportunity in the need placed in front of it.

The Lord met this question with the parable about the Samaritan, and left the lawyer to judge who was the neighbour. Again the man answered correctly, despite the dislike a Jew felt for a Samaritan. Judging in this way, he answered his own question. He was left bound to act as the Samaritan did, and to love the Samaritan as himself.

A man left Jerusalem, which means "the foundation of peace" — that is, a city of righteousness. He went down toward Jericho, which means "fragrant." Jericho was attractive to the natural senses, but it was a city under the curse of God (Josh. 6:26). The descent is very steep: 3,624 feet (1,100 metres) over 13 miles (21 km). Man has gone down in the same way ever since he first left the place of obedience to God. Satanic power attacked him, robbed him of everything, and left him helpless, destitute, dead in sins. Perhaps the lawyer was too self-righteous to see that this was his own spiritual condition. But it was as true of him as of all mankind.

The traveller turned his back on the city crowned with the glory of the Lord's presence, and set his face toward the city of curse. On this road he was stopped, plundered, wounded, and thrown aside without remedy, to die. It is the spiritual history of many.

The stripping off of clothing is the loss of everything we use to cover our nakedness from ourselves. From God we cannot hide it. There is a wounded conscience. There is the awareness of being powerless — "ungodly and without strength." And the shadow of that death steals over the soul, a terrible banishment from the Life of life. This picture is true in every part of its tale of misery. It is the faithful representation of a convicted man.

Leaving him half dead: there is our condition. He was ruined, but his life was still in him — and it is well for us that our life was in us when we met Jesus.

This poor man was not dead. He had enough life left to feel his sufferings and his powerlessness. He was so powerless that he could not refuse the favour offered. Help comes to man, but he resists it. He is not aware enough of his own powerlessness to lie still and do nothing. Souls stay unsaved because they are resisting Christ in some way. ... If you admit your helplessness — make no secret of it — then comes the blessing.

Do not lose the beauty of that description by turning it into a general picture of man's condition. Its individuality is meant to catch the eye of someone who knows he is ruined and desperate. The Lord's words are not cold theological statements, but fresh from the heart for the heart. Are you on this Jericho road, stripped, to your shame, and wounded, to your hurt — a convicted and perishing sinner? Then it applies to you.

Who does not see in this sketch man's condition as a sinner? And what folly it would be for someone in that condition to ask, What shall I do to inherit eternal life? The question is rather, What can be done to save him? This is what our Lord would teach the lawyer. It is folly for a sinner to ask what he can do. If he is saved, it must be by the grace and by the doing of another.

Earthly priesthood and earthly ministry failed completely. Only the despised One was of any use. No one was more despised or hated than a Samaritan — unless it were the One who is beyond all comparison.

The word translated "chance" in Luke 10 means a coincidence, and this is the only place this particular word occurs in the New Testament. It just happened that at that time the priest came along. He did not go there by any design to help the man, but just happened to be passing and left the man as he found him.

The priest is the first example. But one fatal phrase disqualifies him from the start: "Now by chance a priest was going down that road." It is plain what such a word means here, on the lips of the speaker. It means that the Jewish priest was not the minister God provided for this condition. The message of the law is, "do this, and you will live." That is no gospel for the kind of person this helpless, dying man pictures.

Two men passed by as the wounded traveller lay in his blood: a priest and a Levite. Neither offered a helping hand. Yet the law taught that you should help even an enemy's donkey if you saw it groaning under its burden (Ex. 23:5). So why did the Saviour choose the priest and the Levite, out of all the classes and ranks of men, as the ones who did nothing for the dying man? Surely to teach us that the system these men represented could do nothing at all to meet the need of ruined man.

By chance a priest came down that way. He knew the ritual of the law well, with its sacrifices and ceremonies. His work was to have compassion on the ignorant and on those who had gone astray. Just seeing the poor man was enough for him; he passed by on the other side. What can the law's rituals do for someone who is completely destitute and helpless?

"Now by chance a priest was going down that road." By chance — notice that. "Ah," you say, "here is just the right man. Here is a man with a tender heart, a man who can help." But "he passed by on the other side." "I cannot touch him," he says. Why? Because touching him would have disqualified him and made him unclean.

The very fact that the priest passed by on the other side only intensified the hopelessness of this man's position. There was nothing the priest could do to help a man in this condition. It was far beyond anything Judaism could provide… The priest can do nothing for a man who has turned his back on God.

The priest and the Levite were the wounded man's "nearest relatives." They were connected to him by nation and by religion, but they cannot help him. The law cannot help; it can only condemn those who are under it. But then the Samaritan came down, a picture of the Lord Jesus. He was not bound to touch the wounded man, who had no claim on him. Still he came to where the man was… The law could not help the sinner, so by passing by it made the way clear for the Saviour.

We are not to pass by someone who has been caught in a fault, as the priest and the Levite in the gospel passed by on the other side of the road. Instead we are to feel heartfelt sorrow for their condition. In the power of a holy compassion through the Spirit, we are to go down before God under the heavy burden that lies on the hearts of our brothers and sisters.

Two people passed by as the wounded traveller lay in his blood: one a priest, the other a Levite. Neither offered a helping hand. Yet the law taught that you must help even an enemy's donkey when you see it groaning under its load (Ex. 23:5). But out of all the classes and ranks of men, why did the Saviour pick the priest and the Levite as those who did nothing for the dying man? Surely to teach us that the system they represented had no power to meet the need of ruined man. The priest's work was religious forms and ceremonies, and the Levite's work was to teach the people the law of God. Yet God's own picture shows both of them doing nothing for a man in deadly danger. People have paid so little attention to this that crowds searching for salvation still throw themselves on priests, or on moralists, to meet their deep need.

A Levite, arriving at the place, at least came and looked at him, but also passed by (v.32). He was the priests' helper, doing the manual work their service required. If mere formal ritual is worth nothing in this sad case, then neither can man save himself by good works. He was too far gone for the Levite. Instruction in worship and service is useless to a dying sinner: he needs a Saviour!

Think of the hope in his heart when those human forms met his fading sight, and human eyes looked into his! But there was no help for him there. The men of law were not the ministers of the mercy he needed. And they have no more help or hope now than they had then for someone who is simply lost. The law says "Do" — and what can such a person do? You may as well talk about work to the half-dead man on the roadside in the picture. Talking about it to the completely dead sinner he stands for is even more useless.

We may take this up in two ways. It is a striking picture of the law's inability to deal with our condition. But the Lord also shows here that the representatives of the law did not keep what they taught. I learn here that the teachers of the law, the priests and the Levites have never kept what they set out. That is their everlasting shame. Were they authorised to pass by on the other side? The law will never do anything for me, a sinner, nor make its defenders and advocates into what it wants them to be.

Can the "priest" do anything for him? Nothing! He has no sacrifice and no ability to get up and fetch one. Can the "Levite" not help him? No! He is so defiled by his wounds and bruises that neither Levite nor priest could touch him. In a word, neither law nor ordinances can meet his case. He is utterly ruined... He has only to cry out from the deep and awful depths of his moral ruin, "Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?"

Then a Levite comes, the second official of the law, but he passes by too; he cannot touch him or help him. The priest and the Levite were the wounded man's nearest relatives. They shared his nation and his religion. But they cannot help him. The law cannot help; it can only condemn those who are under it. But when the Samaritan came down, he was not bound to touch the wounded man, who had no claim on him. He came where he was, went right down to the spot where he lay, picked him up, and set him in a place of perfect safety. The law could not help the sinner, so by passing by it made the way clear for the Saviour.

So the priest and the Levite pass by and give place to another. "But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was." Why a Samaritan? It was the insult they had thrown at Him — "Are we not right in saying that You are a Samaritan?" It was meant to suggest a man who walked outside the path the law laid down, and whom the law condemned. If the Lord takes that name, we may be sure there is meaning in it. And how did He come where we were, except by being "made in the likeness of sinful flesh" and "a curse for us"? And how could His mercy reach us, except by His taking a path outside the law?

There is a wonderful touch of grace in the Lord taking up the thought of a Samaritan. In the ninth chapter we read that a Samaritan village had refused Him. It is one of those precious incidents we have in Luke of the amazing grace and humility of the Lord Jesus.

That is the point to keep before us — not the law's inability to help, nor the poverty of the man, but the resources that came in with the Samaritan. He brought everything that was necessary, and in compassion took full charge of the situation. The priest was on the line of demand, but the man had nothing to give — he had lost all he had. The Levite was on the line of works. His duty was to teach Israel God's law — but the man is half dead, and there was nothing he could do. He could not have been in a worse state, and it was this that drew out the compassion of the Samaritan.

"He came to where he was" — not half-way or nine-tenths of the way, but all the way. "And when he saw him," what then? Did he turn away in disgust at his appearance and despair of his condition? Ah! no; "He had compassion on him." His tender heart yearned over him. He cared not what he was or who he was. Jew or Gentile, it mattered not... Was this "compassion" only a passing sentiment — a brief feeling that speaks empty words and then fades? No; it was real, living and active, and it showed itself in the plainest way.

Now, why is the blessed Lord of glory called a Samaritan? Because He was a stranger. A stranger from heaven has come down to show neighbourly love on earth... "And when he saw him, he had compassion." What is the source of all the salvation found in Him? Was there anything in you to draw it out or provoke it? No. Something in Him suggested it. The poor waylaid man was silent from first to last... There is no more blessed answer to the grace of God than the stillness of faith... The Lord acts from Himself — at the suggestion of His own compassion.

There are three movements to note in the Samaritan. First, he was on a journey. Second, he "came to where he was". Third, in verse 34, he "went to him". The "journey" may suggest the Lord stooping down into Manhood in this world. Coming to "where he was" may point to the different scenes along His path, where He showed the grace of God moving out in blessing towards man. But when he "went to him", to bind up his wounds and bring him to full recovery, that may involve the cross itself.

Why a Samaritan? It was the name of reproach they had hurled at Him — "Say we not well that You are a Samaritan?" It was meant to suggest a man who walked outside the path the law laid down, and whom the law condemned. If the Lord takes that name, there is meaning in it we may be sure. And, indeed, how did He come where we were, but by being "made in the likeness of sinful flesh," and "a curse for us"? And how could His mercy reach us except by His taking a path outside of law?

"He came where he was" — not half-way or nine-tenths of the way, but all the way. "And when he saw him," what then? Did he turn away in disgust at his appearance and despair of his condition? Ah! no; "He had compassion on him." His tender heart yearned over him. He cared not what he was or who he was.

The words "he went to him and bound up his wounds" may be connected with the cross. The human nature the Lord took was untainted by sin. Yet in those three hours of darkness God made Him "who knew no sin" to be sin for us. There He fully identified Himself with our state, and God dealt with Him in our place.

Pouring the oil in, or over, was for massage, as it still is among the Arabs. The wine was to stop the bleeding.

The oil speaks of the Spirit of God, given to us by pure grace. The wine speaks of the blood of Christ, which cleanses from all sin and brings joy in place of misery, for wine speaks of joy too.

He happened to have with him the very wealth that suited the man lying in the road. The Lord Jesus came loaded with the very fullness that fitted your condition. "And set him on his own beast." He exchanged places with us. He was rich, and we were poor. He became poor that we might be rich.

He also brings him to an inn; that is, makes a stranger of him down here. Then he commits him to the host, pays for his keep until the time of his return. Nothing is expected from the subject of grace, nor does he do anything. He ruined himself. That was the sum total of all that he did. The Samaritan took on the whole responsibility for saving him and keeping him, in every way.

The word translated "take care of" is found only once elsewhere in the New Testament. It occurs in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. There the Lord shows him going to the wounded, half-dead man who had been attacked by thieves. He pours oil and wine into his wounds, at his own cost, of course. He sets him on his beast and walks himself. Then he brings him to an inn. What a model to those who have been called to eldership! This is the manner in which they are to "take care of the church of God." It will cost them something. It will certainly mean self-denial.

His love is not satisfied with thoughtful kindness for the present. He takes charge of the future as well. The terms are all the more striking because the picture is such an everyday one. How full and boundless is this love! It is not limited by family ties or by earthly duty. It flows from a divine and eternal spring within, and looks outside itself only for needy people to act on. No person is too repulsive, no need is beyond the resources of grace... Yes, His provision while He is absent is enough, whatever unbelief may think of it, or of Him. And when He returns, what repayment where He is trusted! What loss, where He is scorned!

The inn where the man was brought may stand for "God's house, which is the assembly of the living God" (1 Tim. 3:15)... When the time came for the Samaritan to leave, he entrusted the care of the man to the innkeeper. When the Lord Jesus was about to depart out of this world and go back to the Father, He spoke to the disciples of "another Comforter". This Comforter is the Holy Spirit. Of course, the Lord in glory still cares for His own. But in view of His departing He committed their care to One who could care for them as He had done — another divine Person... The word for care in verses 34 and 35 occurs only once elsewhere in the New Testament. That third use helps here: "For if a man does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God's church?" (1 Tim. 3:5).

We may, like Van Oosterzee, refuse the thought of two sacraments as trifling, and yet believe that there is meaning here as elsewhere. The two pence are clearly payment for care given... it should be easy to see that the reward goes to those through whom the Spirit works in caring for Christ's people. There is a present reward, for "the one who waters will himself be watered." There is a future one too, when the departed Saviour returns. So the two coins may carry the number of testimony. What is paid now bears witness to a gracious remembrance of all that is done here for Him. The future will show it in full.

This inn has a "Host," and the Spirit of God tells us His name: His name is "Pan-docheus" — the Person who receives all. The Samaritan only stayed a short time, for He went away the next day. But before He left, He promised to come back. In the meantime He left orders with the "Host" to take care of this poor man. Since He left only two pence, the poor man knew that his good Friend meant to come again soon. I am sure he kept watching down the road to see if He was coming.

The security of the healed man was this: the Samaritan had lifted him from the roadside to his own seat — "set him on his own beast" — and undertook to care for him. He made provision for the whole time he would be away. The bright prospect before the man was the hope of his coming again... The Samaritan's care shows not only in the words "took care of him," but also in his handing the man over to the service of others. He had given those others gifts for that service, saying, "Take care of him."

If I may speak this way of Him as a man, He had the single eye and the heart that perfectly understood what God was, and enjoyed it. So He never had difficulty in finding out who was his neighbour. For, in truth, grace finds a neighbour in everyone who needs love. My neighbour is the man who needs human sympathy, and who needs divine goodness and its clear testimony, even when it comes through a man on earth. Now, Jesus was the only man walking in the whole power of divine love... As such, therefore, He found no riddle to solve in the question, Who is my neighbour?

After the essence of the statement of the law, the Lord shows to the man who would justify himself by quibbling over the terms, that grace, the new and blessed principle of God's dealings, makes us by its very nature the neighbour of everyone who has need, and wipes out, by its divine nature, the divisions formed by religious rules that produce no grace, but rather, with the heart being what it is, tend to feed pride by marking out the man they belong to.

If the lawyer had answered his own question, he would no doubt have limited neighbour to one of his own nation. In effect he would have confused neighbour with brother. For the law counted all Israelites as brothers. But a neighbour is a broader term. This is what the Samaritan's act brings out... The teacher of the law passed by. The doer of the law — the Samaritan — personally cared for the injured man, and fully provided for him.

How it exposes the narrow selfishness that can raise such a question! Need meets us in countless shapes, right before our eyes. This is what the legal spirit breeds: the cold calculation of duty by a self-occupied mind, which is sure to spare itself as much as it can. Love is the opposite — unreckoning self-sacrifice, taken up with its object. The priest and the Levite are examples of the first, the Samaritan of the second. A little heart would have decided the lawyer's question for him. It was his shame to ask it.

The Lord knew the lawyer would not grasp the meaning of all this. But the simple story itself was enough to have a serious effect on him. The Lord's question was pointed: which of these three was really a neighbour to the man who fell among thieves? There could be no argument about it. But the lawyer did not answer, "the Samaritan," since he hated that name; instead he said, "The one who showed him mercy."

Why a Samaritan? It was the name of reproach they had hurled at Him: "Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan?" The name was meant to mark out a man who walked outside the set path of the law, a man the law condemned. If the Lord takes that name, we may be sure there is meaning in it. And indeed, how did He come to where we were, except by being "made in the likeness of sinful flesh" and "a curse for us"? And how could His mercy reach us except by His taking a path outside of law? "And when he saw him, he had compassion on him."

Next, he had taken charge of the man, and he would look after him. That is the gospel, and that is neighbourly love. Again I say, the question "Who is my neighbour?" drew the blessed Lord into a picture of Himself. And now, how are we to act the part of the Samaritan? We must begin as debtors to Jesus before we can follow Him in neighbourly love. We must be the waylaid man before we can be the Samaritan.

If the lawyer had answered his own question, he would surely have limited the word neighbour to someone of his own nation. He would have made neighbour mean the same as brother, since the law counted all Israelites as brothers. But neighbour is a wider word, and the Samaritan's act shows it... The teacher of the law passed by. The doer of the law — the Samaritan — served the injured man himself and cared for him fully. Who was that poor man's neighbour? Forced to answer, the lawyer described him in a way typical of himself. But he seems to have avoided naming his nationality: "The one who showed him mercy," were the words.

Some read the parable of the good Samaritan and quickly conclude this: the Lord answered the question "Who is my neighbour?" by showing that we should do our duty to our neighbour wherever there is need. But notice something. The man who fell among robbers is not described as a neighbour that the other man acts towards. The Samaritan was neighbour to him... the lawyer only wanted to justify himself. He wanted a clear list of those who had a claim on him, so that he would owe nothing more... Where love is at work, it does not ask "Who?" It delights to act without asking who deserves it.

The Lord then says, "You go, and do likewise." He says it so that the man might know his own deceitful heart. Acting in that way — that is, acting in mercy — was completely foreign to his nature, so that he might learn his need. We find that the Lord always deals with souls according to their state. To a soul that feels its need He would never say, "You go, and do likewise."

Where all men had failed the Lord goes back to divine love, to the touching story of one who, after priest and Levite had walked past, came to the place of need... if the lawyer, as all others, had failed in this then he, as all others, needed to recognise himself as fallen among thieves and in need of (not "doing something" but) the grace and mercy of the Samaritan.

Again I say, when He was asked, "Who is my neighbour?" the blessed Lord was forced to draw a picture of Himself. So how are we to act the part of the Samaritan? We must first be debtors to Jesus before we can follow Him in love for our neighbour. We must be the man left by the roadside before we can be the Samaritan.

The point being taught is loving your neighbour as yourself. How could we apply that to the Lord who made atonement for us?... And this settles the matter: the moral of the story is, "You go, and do likewise." No one of us could carry that out if the good Samaritan stood for our Saviour.

He is no longer to display the law, but grace. He has learned who his neighbour is. That knowledge must not sit in his soul like a dried-up weed that bears no fruit. His life is to take its character from the gracious ways of one from whom he had until now expected nothing good.

What a mercy that through us, in Jesus, there is active goodness here on earth! After all, it is the only thing that ever fulfils the law... The lawyer was walking after the flesh. He saw nothing of grace, and so there was no truth in him.

See Him here in His daily life of poverty and simplicity — the houseless, homeless Son of Man! Martha received the homeless One into her home. The difficulty here is not with Scripture but with unbelief. Who can take in what that means? The One who lives in eternity depended on the faith and love of a poor woman named Martha for a day's lodging. What a privilege for her!

Here we find the Lord on His way to suffer. "He set His face to go to Jerusalem." "As they went on their way, Jesus entered a village." This was after the Mount of Transfiguration, where Moses and Elijah spoke to Him of His departure. He was on His way to death. He was passing out of the world. On that road "Martha welcomed Him into her house." She had no sense of the path the Lord was taking, or that He was not staying in this world. So she invites Him into her house and tries to entertain Him with her things. She was making the Lord her guest. Mary was the Lord's guest, and He was entertaining her with His things.

Martha, like the rich young man of Mark 10, had much about her that was excellent. The house at Bethany seems to have belonged to her, and she was glad to open her home to receive the Lord of glory. She was not only hospitable; she was also a busy servant in the Lord's service. There are "many things" to do for the Lord in this world, and Martha filled her days with these "many things." Yet with all these fine qualities she had overlooked "one thing."

The good Samaritan had bandaged the wounds of the man he found half dead, pouring in oil and wine. He had set him on his own animal, taken him to an inn, and provided all he needed until he should return. Now Mary's occupation shows us the diligent service of the saved soul in the meantime: hearing the word of Jesus is indeed the good portion, which will not be taken away.

Receiving the word takes the place of the attentions that were due to the Messiah. The presence of a Messiah on earth called for those attentions. But look at the condition man was in — he rejected the Saviour. What he needed was the word, and Jesus, in His perfect love, will have nothing else. For man, and for the glory of God, only one thing was needful, and that is what Jesus desires. For Himself, He would go without everything else to have it.

A contrast is here drawn between the two sisters: the one occupied with what she could do for the Lord; the other with what He was. But in John 12 the Lord is at Bethany again, and they make a supper for Him. There Martha's service draws no qualifying word at all. The Lord had raised up her brother Lazarus, and He had dealt with her herself, and this had no doubt taught her the lesson she needed. Service in communion with Himself is acceptable to Him.

The good Samaritan had bound up the wounds of the man he found half dead, pouring in oil and wine. He had set him on his own animal and taken him to an inn. He made all the provision needed for him until he should return. Now Mary's occupation shows us what the diligent service of the saved soul should be in the meantime. Hearing the word of Jesus is indeed the good part which shall not be taken away.

The woman who was a sinner stood at the feet of Jesus, for as yet she was not enjoying forgiveness and peace. Mary, on the other hand, sat. That was a sign that every question about the state of her soul had been settled, so she was at rest. So we take our place at the feet of Jesus first as people who repent, and we stay there as His servants and disciples.

Two kinds of souls are pictured here. Some receive the Lord as Saviour and rest there, whatever service they think best to give. Others, having received Him, press on with purpose of heart to learn His mind and to know Him personally. … Sitting at His feet declared that she had become His disciple. It means even more if we adopt the reading preferred by most, "at the feet of THE LORD." It is a blessed moment for any soul when that point is reached. He is enthroned in the heart as supreme, and His will becomes the only law of our daily lives.

There were many who listened to the words of the Lord Jesus who did not hear His word. To hear His word there must be an ear to hear, and only those in whom God had worked had this capacity. Hearing His word is a mark of a true follower of the Lord Jesus. It shows that a person values the divine revelation brought to men in the Person of Jesus. It shows a desire to know its substance, spirit and details.

Mary had discovered that all she could do for the Lord was nothing compared with what He had to give her. To receive His word is the one thing needful, for out of that will flow all service that is acceptable to Him.

She set herself to work without having first been in the company of the Lord, in communion with Him. So the word of the Lord had never taught her the mind of the Lord. As a result she was "distracted with much serving" and "anxious and troubled about many things." She complained about her sister, and even entertained the thought that the Lord was indifferent to her work.

It was not much to record of this one that she sat at Jesus' feet. Has it any value in our eyes? Yet it was like ointment poured out to the heart of the Beloved One. We may be active in service, and that is right in its place. But there is nothing He values so much as our loving to listen to Him. He is now exalted on the throne of the Majesty on high. How wonderful that He still looks for the chance of speaking to us down here!

We see her first in her sister's home at Bethany. The Lord of life entered that home, and Mary sat at His feet as a learner (Luke 10). Later, when death had entered the home, she is found at His feet as a mourner (John 11). Last of all, a few of His loved ones make a supper for the Lord, who had just displayed His resurrection power and glory. There she is found at His feet as a worshipper.

It would seem that, in serving, Martha was only doing the duty that rightly belonged to her. Her trouble was in aiming at much serving: she wished to do the thing in very special style, and this "cumbered" or "distracted" her. Her distraction was such that she spoke in a way that cast blame not only on her sister but on the Lord. Mary, she thought, was neglecting her duty, and the Lord was indifferent to her neglect. Martha represents distraction and Mary, communion.

Dear friends, if you are busy about many things, you will not only be busy, but troubled. Martha, we read, was "distracted with much serving". She was not only loaded down, but troubled. It weighed upon her. If you have service that weighs you down, look into it and find out why. … She began by seeking to help the Lord, as it were. In the end she complains that she cannot get help herself. She wants to serve the Lord, but she turns round at last and wants to get Mary to serve her.

Not only was there a large streak of self-importance in Martha, but she felt herself constantly slighted and put out by others. The spirit of self-centredness measures by itself. It cannot appreciate a love that is deeper than its own. … Martha's thoughts circled round herself. Had she been thinking of Jesus, she would not have dictated to Him. Nor would she have complained of Mary. … She does not even leave it to the Lord to direct. Self is always fault-finding as well as self-important. It is as quick to blame others as to claim for itself what is unbecoming. "Tell her then to help me." She forgets that she was only the servant of the Lord.

Does this not show that a complaining spirit is always against the Lord? Whatever the occasion, the Lord is over all things. By our complaints we always imply that He is not caring for us as He should. The Lord could not accept her reproof. Yet He rebuked her very gently for being full of care and troubled about many things.

This word, "helps," is of deep and wonderful meaning; it occurs only twice in the New Testament, in Romans 8:26, and in Luke 10:40. The word in the Greek (sunantilambano) means to take one end of a burden, and share it with the one at the opposite end. This is what the blessed Spirit of God does with us. On his path the believer finds many burdens too great to bear alone. He gets discouraged, just as Martha did with her housework.

Whenever you find anyone serving without sitting at His feet, you may be sure they are Martha-like. If you begin with serving (as many do today), you will never sit at His feet. But if you begin with sitting, you will soon serve well, wisely, and in a way He accepts. The serving quiets the conscience, and the sitting is overlooked and neglected.

Martha still serves, but she is no longer weighed down by her service. In other days her service had a larger place in her thoughts than Christ; now Christ has a larger place than her service. She is serving to make "Him a supper".

"You are anxious," He says to Martha. Friends, if you are busy about many things, you will not only be busy, but troubled. Martha, we read, "was distracted with much serving." She was not only burdened but "troubled." It was very busy service, but it weighed her down. Dear friends, if you have service that weighs you down, look to it — find out why.

Martha's case was very different, for she was doing what was right. The house was hers and the Lord was her Guest. If she had not busied herself in the service of her house, she would have failed in what was plainly her duty. The trouble was her getting burdened and distracted by "much serving." And what lay at the root of this? Evidently a self-centred spirit. She began to be annoyed with her sister Mary, because Mary did not join in this excess of preparation. Instead she sat at the feet of Jesus, captivated by His word... His answer was most clearly a word of rebuke because of self-centredness.

Martha had a strong streak of self-importance. She also felt constantly slighted and put out by others. The spirit of egoism measures by itself, and cannot appreciate a love which is deeper than its own... Had she been thinking of Jesus, she would not have dictated to Him any more than have complained of Mary... She forgets that she was but the servant of the Lord. Who was she to wish to control Him?

Jesus, however, answers with the dignity that was proper to Him, and the love that always sees true to its mark... He loved them both, indeed... He deals first of all with herself. She ought not to have been thus anxious and careworn. Martha did not know what Paul knew so well: "One thing I do" (Phil. 3:13). There was never a man with such varied occupations as the apostle... What carried him through all his unmatched toil and suffering, undistracted and happy? The reason was that one person, the only worthy Object, filled and governed his heart.

Her service had its place and its value. Her Lord knew well how to value it. But, blessed be His name, He will not allow anyone to interfere with another. Each had her own place, her own line of things... If Martha had gone quietly on with her work, with Christ as her object in all she did, she would not have met a rebuff.

In this world many troublesome things are bound to confront us. The real trouble is not those things. It lies in the inward disposition that lets them trouble us. We get anxious and troubled about many things because we are so self-centred. What is the desirable thing? To be Christ-centred. If Christ is the great Object before our hearts, the many things become simplified and lose their power to worry.

That good part is prizing Christ and His Word, not thinking what Mary could do for the Lord, but what the Lord could do for Mary. To receive all for her soul from the Lord, instead of receiving Him into her house, was before Mary's soul. This was the one thing needful — it was Christ Himself.

He wanted His words to enter and to have power in the heart. The only thing that endures forever is "the word of the Lord." The wisdom of this world is against it, and so is human reasoning. But it is the only thing worth waiting on diligently... To hear Jesus is the "one thing" needful. No attention, even to Himself in the flesh, though it came from one who loved Him and whom He loved, could replace this.

Mary realised that He had much more to give her by His word than she could give Him by her service. So she chose the good part and sat at His feet. It does not say "the better part," as it is so often misquoted. There is no comparison here. It is simply "the good portion, which will not be taken away from her." By hearing His word we come to know Himself, and that closeness with Him and His mind will last for eternity.

There can be so much apparent zeal, activity and earnestness that does not spring from the heart's appreciation of Christ at all! This was what was lacking in Martha... All service has its value in His eyes according to how far the heart is engaged with Himself as its first object. Now "Martha was distracted with much serving." She was putting her service in the place of Jesus. He loves her too well to agree to her heart being taken up like that. He wanted her to enjoy Himself.

We must be receivers before we can give, and Mary was a receiver. Martha was a giver, and the Lord Jesus was her guest, but Mary was the Saviour's guest. Sadly, we are often content with taking in only a few drops. No wonder we can only give out a few drops. If rivers are to flow out from us, we must receive rivers. Where the Lord is, there is always plenty of provision — His presence always gives plenty.

What she received that day was eternal in character, and so it could not be taken away from her. In her present frame of mind, Martha's household cares would start all over again when the sun rose the next day. But Mary would wake with heaven in her soul, because Christ filled her heart. His presence and the enjoyment of His love would light her whole future path. She would meet her daily responsibilities all the better, and more according to God.

We may not always enjoy or value the good part as we ought to, but it shall not be taken away from us. God says it, and that is enough for faith.

"Martha, Martha, you are careful and troubled about many: but few are needful, or one." That is the literal translation of what the Lord said. Our translators added "things" to make good English. But the Lord probably meant "many dishes" or "many courses," when "few dishes," or even one dish, was all that was needed — perhaps only a plate of porridge.

The disciples felt their need of prayer. John taught his disciples to pray, and that stirred them up. They were born of God; but for all that, they lacked power for prayer, their souls were feeble in it. No one prayed like Jesus, and no one depended on His God and Father as He did. No Gospel writer shows this as much as Luke, and so no one shows it in as many different situations.

If Mary suggests feeding upon the word of God at the feet of Jesus, this points to its effect — it leads to prayer. Our Lord's example in this stirs His disciples to ask to be taught to pray.

It is characteristic of the law that, with all its forms, no form of prayer was ever prescribed to the people. When the disciples ask for one, they point to John the Baptist as having taught his disciples, and not to Moses. God's people knew their need and had always expressed it, and of course the Old Testament is full of examples. That makes it all the more striking that the law prescribed nothing of the kind. The law was God's schoolmaster, teaching man his weakness, but it did this by demanding strength from him.

By asking, they admitted that the Lord's ministry had brought a great advance in spiritual teaching. The old forms of prayer no longer gave John's disciples a way to express all they desired. So he had taught them to pray. John's ministry stirred people up and dealt with the conscience. It did not minister grace as the Lord's ministry did, which spoke of the Father. This was a revelation by the Son, never entrusted to John. So old forms of prayer could not fit such fresh truth. In His answer the Lord agreed, and showed that prayer should match the revelation given to us.

They had not learnt the simple confidence in the Father that turns to Him and tells Him everything. They did not understand their place as children of the Father. He stoops to teach them in that condition and gives them this prayer. He teaches them to pray for the things His own heart was taken up with.

In Luke 11 the Lord answered their request, "Lord, teach us to pray," much as He did in Matthew 6, but with slightly different wording and in a shorter form. This prayer comes from the mouth of the Son of God, so it is perfect. Even so, these differences ought to warn us not to make a "fixed form of prayer" out of it. And yet the so-called "Lord's Prayer" has become the most repeated prayer in Christendom.

The Lord next insists on persistence, or perseverance, in prayer, with the blessing attached to earnestness with God. Then He touches on the gift of the Spirit: "If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!" He gives not merely good things, but the Holy Spirit, the best gift. They were really disciples; they were born of God, yet they still had to pray for the Holy Spirit to be given to them.

Our Lord then directs the disciples to their Father. This is the first and very significant word of the prayer. When believers today address God as Jehovah or Almighty God, do they not forget that they are Christians? People addressed God as Almighty with understanding in the days of Abraham and the patriarchs. They were the days of promise. Later, when God called out the nation of Israel and put it under law, they knew Him as Jehovah-God. Now it is as Father that the Christian knows Him.

It is true that the King James Bible has it in the matching passage of Luke. But everyone who knows this subject well knows there are strong reasons for cutting the clause there back to the single word "Father." My own conviction is that copyists took the longer form in the common text of Luke from Matthew.

It is the Spirit of God who has decided this. He gives an outline that matches the moral character of Luke's Gospel. But it is an outline, not meant for repeating word for word, since it has no closing sentence and no "Amen."

"Name" in Scripture always expresses what God is as revealed. So, joined to the Father, it is the truth of what God is in that relationship. So when we long for His name to be hallowed, we are asking that it be kept holy in us, by us, and by all who have the privilege of calling on God by this precious title. We are asking that there be in us an answering response to His holiness in this relationship.

It is not the kingdom of the Son of Man, the kingdom of Christ, that is spoken of here, but the Father's kingdom. It is not "my kingdom come," but "your kingdom come." The Father's kingdom is the sphere where the heavenly saints will shine like the sun. The Son of Man's kingdom is the sphere where all peoples, nations, and languages will serve Him. Heaven and earth will both come under the Lord Jesus when He comes, and both will make up the kingdom of God. But the Father's kingdom is the upper department, and the Son of Man's kingdom is the lower one.

For this kingdom of the Father we must look past every age of God's dealings to the sabbath rest of God Himself. To confuse it with the millennium would be a complete mistake, and would drag its character far down. The millennium, with all its blessedness, is only a step toward this glorious completion.

How often we put ourselves and our interests first in our prayers. It was not like this that the Lord taught His disciples. He taught them to put God first: to pray that His name might be hallowed, and then to stretch their desires out to the furthest bounds of the earth… Only then, when the heart has reached up to the sacred glory of God's name and has widened to take in every home of man, may we ask for our daily needs.

In a coming day of persecution and distress God's earthly people will cry this prayer from their anguished hearts, but how blessed if we are in the moral good and truth of it now.

Short, yet suggestive! Short, because it packs so much into a few sentences. Suggestive, because it reminds us that God's glory, and what concerns our Father, should have the first place in the heart. At the same time, we are perfectly free to make our wants known as well.

Then comes a petition expressing dependence on God for our ordinary need. "Give us our needed bread for each day." It takes up the pure and simple need of the body. The word "daily" is a very imperfect expression in English of the original term. The Greek word epiousios really means our "sufficient" bread. It seems to be a word made for this very idea, set against having more than we need. If we ask for more than enough, we slight the wisdom of the Lord.

Give us today our sufficient (or, necessary) bread. So the disciples are taught to begin by confessing dependence for ordinary wants, as the apostle called us to be content with food and clothing.

The believing Jews looked simply at the one day, it might be, before them. It was a definite request for the present need... But in Luke the Lord was teaching the Gentile believer — the one who is not a Jew. That believer shows a more constant spirit of dependence: "day by day" is the word. He was never to expect rest or a settled home on earth, as the Jewish believer might. His inheritance lay elsewhere; his portion here was to be always that of a stranger... The word for "give" is the same verb in both Gospels, but its form and force differ a little. In Matthew it implies a single passing act; in Luke it is the continuous habit, which naturally goes with the phrase "day by day."

It is not straining the request for daily bread to make it include a spiritual application too. With the Lord it would be simply impossible, while remembering the need of the body, to forget the immensely greater need of the soul. In both ways the supply must be continual. The manna had to be fresh every morning, and freshly gathered as the morning came: hoarded, it bred worms and went bad.

Often all we think of is having our need met; but how little a thing is that with God! It would cost Him nothing, we may say, to meet the need of a lifetime in a moment. A lesser love than His would supply it all at once and be rid of a constant burden. But that is not His way. To supply the need is a small thing. But He means to supply it in a way that makes us feel, in each supply that comes just in time, that the Father's eye is never turned away from us and the Father's heart is always taken up with us.

"Give us this day our daily bread." Many a believer would almost break his heart if he thought his income would come to an end in twelve months' time. But this prayer means we look to Him as our only resource for today's needs.

This is not a sinner's forgiveness, when he first comes to know the Lord. It is the forgiveness of the disciple living under the daily government of his Father. How misleading, then, to make an unconverted person ask forgiveness as if he were already a child of God! Under the gospel, the unconverted receive forgiveness of sins by faith in the blood of Jesus — by receiving the gospel itself. This passage speaks only of a child's forgiveness: the removal of whatever gets in the way of fellowship with God.

Does God make the forgiveness of an unconverted man depend, in any sort or degree, upon his forgiveness of others? By no means. That would demand a very high standard of conduct from a person in the lowest possible condition... In a word, it would ruin and deny the gospel, which would then be of works and no more grace.

If in Matthew it is said "debts" and in Luke "sins," there is a slight shade of difference that ought not to pass unnoticed. "Sin" says plainly how deep the soul's moral need is. The simplest non-Jew would understand the word "sin." A Jew would feel what a debt was in his responsibility to God. It assumes a known relationship — one he already stood in, and in which he had failed. To those who had never stood in that position, the idea of "debt" was not so clear... "Debt" is more of a picture, though a Jew understood it perfectly.

That means our attitude to others has a serious bearing on ourselves. No doubt this passage looks at forgiveness from the standpoint of God's government. And it is exactly on those lines of government that the matter becomes very serious. Do I forgive? Then I can call upon God to forgive me. Am I hard and unforgiving? I shall reap what I sow.

God counts no sin against us now; it is all put away. But will that make me hard when others fail? No. Seeing that Christ went through agony on the cross for me gives me a sense of my freedom, but not indifference about sin. Instead of hardness, it will give us tenderness and softness of spirit.

The disciples knew their own weakness, so they were right to ask God not to lead them into such severely testing circumstances. No prayer such as "Lead us not into sin" is or could be in the Bible, for that would charge God with moral evil. The temptation here means putting a person fully to the proof. If there is evil in the heart that has never been judged, the test brings it out to his shame.

Whoever knows himself will pray, "Lead us not into temptation." May the grace of God work in us so that Satan need not sift us to strip away our pretensions. When Jesus prayed for Peter, whom He knew to be self-confident, He did not ask that His disciple escape the enemy's sifting, but only that his faith should not fail.

The most ancient copies leave out "Deliver us from evil"... This is not taking anything away from Scripture; it is laying aside what is not Scripture. We still have these words, and rightly, in Matthew: leaving them out here is a gain, not a loss.

Here the Lord presses prayer on us. He argues (as He often does in Luke) from what the human heart feels. That shows even more strongly what God feels when men are earnest with Him.

In the first place, it teaches us to be definite in our prayers. "Friend, lend me three loaves." There is a real need, felt and spoken out. One thing is before his mind and on his heart, and he keeps to that one thing. It is not a long, rambling, aimless statement about all sorts of things. It is clear, direct, and pointed — I want three loaves, I cannot do without them, I must have them, I have no other way to get them, the case is urgent, it is the middle of the night. Every circumstance makes the appeal definite and earnest.

Midnight, of course, seems a very bad time to come. Everything looks discouraging. The friend has retired for the night, the door is shut, his children are with him in bed, he cannot rise. All this is very depressing. But he still presses his definite need: he must have the three loaves.

Suppose a man has a friend — not just a neighbour. An emergency comes, and at midnight he goes to ask him for three loaves of bread. Would that friend excuse himself from helping because it would disturb his own comfort? The Lord answered that friendship alone might not move the friend to help at that hour. Yet because of the man's persistence — his earnest insistence in asking — his friend will respond (v.8).

If we have learnt that He is gracious, He wants us to act on that knowledge. He wants us to go to Him with expectancy and persistence — whether for the blessing of others (11:5-10) or for our own deliverance (18:1-7).

So the Lord shows us that we may keep on seeking. We may seek with persistence, as one needy man seeks from another. Someone may object, You are forgetting the difference between God and man. There is a difference, indeed. But we must not let it stop us from pouring out our full hearts to Him... Ask as if He would give in to sheer persistence. Cling to Him as Jacob clung, and say, "I will not let you go unless you bless me."

There is no reluctance in God. There is no selfishness to be overcome, as there was in the man at midnight. But there may be reasons to delay the answer. When it does come, it may come in a way you are hardly prepared for.

We believe it would bring great earnestness, freshness, warmth, depth, reality, and power to our prayer-meetings if we came with something definite on our hearts, which we could invite our fellow believers to join us in. Some of us think we must make one long prayer about all sorts of things. Many of them are very right and very good, no doubt. But the mind gets lost in the number of subjects. How much better to bring one object before the throne, earnestly urge it, and pause, so that the Holy Spirit may lead out others in the same way.

But this is not all. We may not stop at the supply of our own need; God encourages us to come to Him about others. The prayer "Give us" has been answered and my own need has been met. But the case of "a friend of mine" who "has arrived on a journey," along with my own poverty and inability to help him, presses heavily on my spirit. It stirs up earnestness, persistence, and steady prayer that does not give up.

He tells us that the man gets what he came for by sheer persistent earnestness. He will not be put off; he must get the three loaves. Persistence wins even where the claims of friendship fail. The man is set on his object; he has no alternative. There is a demand, and he has nothing to meet it — "I have nothing to set before my travelling friend." In short, he will not take no for an answer.

First, it teaches us to be definite in our prayers. "Friend, lend me three loaves." A real need is felt and put into words. One thing is before his mind and on his heart, and he keeps to that one thing. It is not a long, rambling, aimless statement about all sorts of things. It is clear, direct, and pointed — I want three loaves, I cannot do without them, I must have them, I am shut in, the case is urgent, the time of night. Every circumstance makes the appeal definite and earnest.

In the man who went to his friend at midnight, the Lord pictures how prayer begins: with the sense that my friend has what I want. The question is not so much what the need is. I know my friend has what I want, and I know he is my friend. So I go to him to relieve my need, without counting up the various things that might get in the way. One thing is fixed in my mind — he has what I want, and I have nowhere else to get it. This is the first great sense of prayer: complete dependence on God, and His infinite ability to meet what I need.

It is not, blessed be God, that He will ever answer us "from within." He will never say to us, "Do not bother me. I cannot get up and give you anything." He is always our true and ready "Friend" — a cheerful, generous Giver who does not scold. All praise to His holy name!

There is no reluctance in God. He has none of the selfishness that had to be overcome in the man at midnight. But there may be reasons to delay the answer, and when it does come, it may come in a way you are little prepared for.

And the Lord illustrates it even from man, evil as he is, and though the appeal comes at midnight, when the difficulties were greatest. Even then the need was urgent and there was nothing to meet it. And a mere man does not fail to get up and give — not for friendship's sake, sad to say, but because the asking would not stop. How much more should the believer count on God!

And what answer is sure to come back from the one who speaks "from within"? Just what you would expect. "Do not bother me." This man has withdrawn into the narrow circle of his own comfort and enjoyment. He has closed his door and drawn the curtains around him. He does not like to be "troubled" by anyone. Such a man is sure to say, even when someone appeals to him as a "friend," "I cannot get up." And why could he not get up? Because "the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed." His reasons for not getting up were all selfish. And when he did get up, it was only from a selfish wish to avoid more trouble.

The time may seem as inconvenient as could be. A man may not listen for friendship's sake to the one who asks to borrow bread. Still, he would rather get up and give than open himself to trouble. Everyone knows this is how a man tends to act with a neighbour who is bold enough to press him. He may be deeply annoyed at the caller who keeps knocking. But to avoid the trouble of a continued appeal at his door, he gives in.

Can we apply this to God? Not the motive, of course: God does not give to get rid of the person asking. Even so, the Lord goes on: "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you."

Thank God, He will never answer us "from within." He will never say to us, "Do not bother me" — "I cannot get up and give you anything." He is always our true and ready "Friend." He is a cheerful, generous Giver who does not scold. All praise to His holy name! Still, He encourages persistence, and we need to weigh His teaching.

There is majesty in God's goodness, and yet He takes notice of all our needs, and we must wait for His will and pleasure. Suppose a child asks his father for something. The father says, "You must wait five minutes." Is the child to say, "No, I cannot; I must have it right now?" Meanwhile the waiting exercises faith, and breaks down the spirit in the sense of need. Look at Daniel, and see another thing. God gave him a deep sense of being identified with Himself in what he was doing; so He made him pray three weeks before he received what he asked for. This is a great privilege, because it means fellowship with God. There is a certainty that God will answer in blessing, even though He delays.

It teaches us to be definite in our prayers. "Friend, lend me three loaves." He feels a real need and says it. One thing is before his mind and on his heart, and he limits himself to that one thing. It is not a long, rambling, aimless statement about all sorts of things. It is clear, direct, and pointed: I want three loaves. I cannot do without them. I must have them. I am stuck. The case is urgent.

We do not like to be interrupted when we have withdrawn from the world around us into the narrow circle of our own personal or family enjoyment. We are all too ready, when a call comes, to send our answer "from within." How unlike all this was the blessed Lord Jesus Christ! His door was never shut. He never answered "from within." He always had a ready response to every needy person who came. He was so taken up with human need that He had no time to eat bread or take rest. He never complained about the constant interruption of needy humanity. He never said to any child of need or sorrow, "I cannot get up and give you anything." The door of His heart was always wide open.

By the illustration He uses, He encourages them to earnestness, and even "shamelessness" — which is what the word for "importunity" really means. He points to the gift of the Holy Spirit as the Father's purpose for those who ask Him.

The time may seem ever so inconvenient, but although a man may not listen for friendship's sake to the one asking for a loan of bread, he would rather get up and give than expose himself to trouble. Everyone knows this is how a man tends to act with a neighbour who is bold enough to press him. He might be thoroughly annoyed at the persistent caller, but to avoid the trouble of a continued appeal at his door, he gives in.

In the first place, it teaches us to be definite in our prayers. "Friend, lend me three loaves." There is a real need felt and expressed; there is one thing before the mind and on the heart, and he keeps to that one thing. It is not a long, rambling, aimless statement about all sorts of things. It is clear, direct, and pointed — I want three loaves, I cannot do without them, I must have them, I have no other way, the case is urgent.

There is a sad lack of persistence in our prayer meetings. The lack of persistence matches the lack of definiteness. The two go very much together. Where the thing sought is as definite as the "three loaves," there will generally be the persistent asking for it, and the firm purpose to get it.

The devil uses many arguments against keeping up prayers that seem to fail, and our own hearts agree with them because they sound plausible. Yet if there is nothing more than this against such prayers, the Lord teaches us here to press them still. The parallel between persistence with man and with God is as hard to apply fully, and as open to serious objection, as any parallel one could suggest. The Lord Himself points to the difficulty, while pressing the argument as if there were none... Can we apply this to God? Certainly not the motive: God does not give to be rid of the petitioner.

How unlike all this was the blessed Lord Jesus Christ! His door was never shut. He never answered "from within." He had no time to eat bread or take rest, He was so occupied with human need... He never said to any son of want or child of sorrow, "I cannot rise and give you anything." He was ready to get up and go with every needy applicant, and His gracious word was always "Give."

There is majesty in God's goodness, and yet He takes notice of all our needs, and we must wait for His will and pleasure. Suppose someone asks his father for something, and the father says, "You must wait five minutes." Is the child to say, "No, I cannot; I must have it right away"? Waiting exercises faith, and it breaks the spirit down into a sense of need... There is a certainty that God will answer in blessing, though He delays.

Never say that persistence is needed to move God... There is no reluctance in God; there is not the selfishness to be overcome that there was in the man at midnight. But there may be reasons for delaying the answer, and when it comes, it may come in a way you are little prepared for.

The need was urgent, and there was nothing to meet it. Even so, a mere man does get up and give — not for friendship's sake, sad to say, but because of persistence. How much more should the believer count on God!... God gives to all life and breath and everything; it is His nature.

The way to ask rightly is the secret shown in John 15:7. "If you abide in me" — a life of dependence — "and my words abide in you" — they shape us and produce right desires — "ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." This matches Psalm 37:4: if I am delighting in the Lord, right desires will be created in me. To neglect the word of God is to neglect the true safeguard... "Ask" implies something I want to have; "seek," something I have lost; and "knock," wanting to get in. It means increased earnestness. There is more intensity in "seeking" than in "asking," and again more in "knocking" than in seeking.

The Lord illustrates it even from man, evil as he is. The appeal comes at midnight, when difficulties were greatest. Yet even then the need was urgent and nothing was there to meet it. A mere man still gets up and gives — not out of friendship, sad to say, but because of persistence. How much more should the believer count on God! "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." God gives to all life and breath and all things; it is His nature.

This is a clear climax, and it all leads to urgent prayer before God. Not that God needs it — man does. God values the earnestness of man's heart, though His own heart is open to the cry of need or distress from the very first... In Luke there is always an appeal to the feelings of the heart. Man admits what even he would do, and that illustrates the ways of God, which are far more admirable. There is also a breadth that goes far beyond the narrow bounds of Israel. "Everyone who asks receives."

There is no limit, except the limit that little faith may put on it. There is also a safeguard on God's side, which is not a limit: that the gift be good. And the Lord fastens His encouragements twice over: everyone who asks receives, he who seeks finds, and the door opens to him who knocks. What a door this opens for us, and what blessing it makes possible! How rich we may all be, if we only will be!... And yet the apostle's words could apply even in the fresh early days when he wrote them: "You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions" (James 4:2-3).

The Lord may keep us waiting ever so long and yet intend all the time to grant the request at last. Delay may be meant to make the blessing greater when it comes. We are inclined to think that delay means denial; it is not always so... I remember a good man and his wife who prayed twelve years for their unconverted son. At the end of that time he turned up, clothed and in his right mind, and that in answer to many prayers.

So the Lord shows us that we may keep on seeking. Seek without letting up. Seek as one needy man seeks from another. Someone might argue, You are forgetting the difference between God and man. There is a difference, indeed. But we are not to use it to stop pouring out our full hearts to Him... Ask as if He would yield to sheer persistence. Cling to Him as Jacob clung, and say, "I will not let You go, unless You bless me."

And the Lord illustrates it even from man, evil as he is. He pictures a man appealing at midnight, when difficulties were greatest. Even then the need was urgent and there was nothing to meet it, yet a mere man still gets up and gives. He does it not for friendship's sake, sadly, but because of persistence. How much more should the believer count on God! God gives to all life and breath and everything; it is His nature.

"Ask" is found in various places in the Word of God as a special form of prayer (for example John 11:22; 14:13; Col. 1:9; Jas. 1:5). "Seek" is the upright, earnest effort to find something (see Psa. 34:4; Is. 55:6). "Knock" shows that outward obstacles and shyness can be overcome as well.

"Ask" — every child knows how to do that. It is simply laying the need before the Father. But suppose the answer does not come; there is a delay. What then? "Seek" — there is something more there. "Knock" — it grows in persistence and urgency. We need to listen to these things from His lips.

In Luke there is always an appeal to the feelings of the heart. Luke takes man's own admission of what even he would do and uses it to illustrate the ways of God, which are infinitely more admirable and excellent. There is also a breadth here that goes far beyond the narrow boundaries of Israel. "Everyone who asks receives." So here we have the call to persistence in prayer, and the certainty of God's answer.

The Lord had instructed His disciples to address God as Father. The assurances He gave in verse 10 fit with this, and so do the statements of verses 11-13. The Father in heaven is not to be thought of as less interested and considerate than an earthly father. He will not give what is useless or harmful in answer to requests for necessary food. Nor, we may add, will He give what is useless or harmful if we foolishly want it and ask for it. Many an unanswered prayer is, no doubt, explained by this.

This man's request seemed unreasonable. It was a strange hour for a guest to arrive, and the friend thought it was too much trouble to provide food for him. For friendship's sake he would do nothing; he gave because of the man's persistence. He thought, "If I don't give him what he wants he will knock all night." But it is not so with our Father, who always delights to give.

The Lord may keep us waiting a very long time and yet intend all along to grant the request at last. Delay may be meant to make the blessing greater when it comes. We are inclined to think that delay means denial; it is not always so.

The Lord Jesus uses an illustration which everybody can understand. He speaks of the normal relationship between a son and his father, one marked by love and trust. The son is in trouble and asks his father for bread or a fish, that is things necessary for daily living. He does not demand as the son in Luke 15:12 did. Nor does he ask wrongly, to satisfy his own cravings (something James 4:3 warns us about). No, he asks his father with trust and without doubting, for what he really needs.

A son who asks his father for bread usually trusts him to answer with care. To give a stone in place of bread would be cruelty: do believers not have more confidence in their Father than this? The stone would be harmless but useless. A serpent given instead of a fish would do real harm. So let us pray with firm faith, sure that our Father will answer in the best way for us.

How against every feeling of a parent it would be to mock a child while pretending to give! To hand over what is harmful instead of what is good! It is impossible that any ordinary father would act that way.

But there is more. He is our Father, and He has a Father's heart. We can learn something of that heart from a human parent, whom God placed in that role. God set up the parent-child tie. The Creator planted parental love in the creature. Will He do less, and care less for His children, than an earthly parent for his offspring? Impossible; and here we are not left to conjecture, nor to deduction.

There is affection enough in the heart of man to make him respond to a child's cry of need. But affection is not enough. Wisdom is needed too, so that the gift he gives is a good one. Parents do not always give everything their children may ask. They do listen to what their children ask, but they think about what will be suitable and good to give.

He will not give that which is useless or harmful in answer to requests for necessary food. Nor, we may add, will He give what is useless or harmful if we foolishly desire it and ask for it. Many an unanswered prayer is, no doubt, accounted for by this.

Even as parents we often have to refuse the requests of our children. A little lad of four asks his mother for his father's razor to play with. Will she answer his prayer? And we often ask God for razors that would injure us.

reason: 70-word very-hard sentence; Scripture not ESV; archaic "Godward" They were really disciples; they were born of God, yet they still had to pray for the Holy Spirit to be given to them… The sending down of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost brought in an immense change to this truth.

The Lord ended His teaching on prayer by reminding His disciples that they themselves were evil. They had an evil nature, so their motives were likely to be selfish. Yet despite this, they knew how to give good gifts to their children. How much more, then, can we depend on Him who is perfect in truth and goodness to give the greatest of all good gifts to those who ask Him — that is, the gift of the Holy Spirit?

Persistence works with a friend. God rewards earnestness. But there is more: He is our Father, and He has a Father's heart. We can learn something of what that means from a human parent, whom God placed in that relationship. God set up the tie between parent and child. The Creator planted parental love in His creature. Will He do less, and care less for His children, than a human parent does for his own child?

The Lord also touches on the gift of the Spirit, and He does so only in this Gospel — "…how much more will the heavenly Father give [not merely good things, but] the Holy Spirit [the best gift] to those who ask Him!" For the Holy Spirit was not yet given. Their hearts were reaching out to God. They were true disciples, born of God, and yet they had to pray that the Holy Spirit would be given to them.

He guards against the abuse of the doctrine of persistence. He does not want us to think that our persistence can wring a gift that is not good out of our heavenly Father's hand. Sometimes, perhaps, we might want such a gift in a moment of madness — only in madness. But how can He refuse to give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?

Those who were there had the Lord's authority to ask God to give them the Holy Spirit. We find it on record that they prayed and God did send Him. So it is no use quoting this passage in Luke as our warrant to ask God to send the Holy Spirit now. The hundred and twenty who met there took their stand on that promise. They prayed and received the answer. If we ask now for the Holy Spirit to be sent, we are centuries behind the time. He is here.

It is quite right to pray that we may not grieve Him, and that we may not quench Him. It agrees with the word of God to pray that we may be strengthened with all might according to His Spirit in the inner man. But we should not say one word that implies the Holy Spirit is not here, when He is.

The Spirit is now given, in the Christian sense. Even so, we can still have — and we are called to prove — the way our Father answers the prayers of His people with fullness of spiritual blessing. How comforting is the Lord's assurance here! Yet how it reproves us also! Here, if we lack, "we do not have, because we do not ask."

The Lord shows the link between the demon and the sickness, weakness, or other illness of body or mind. We see it here in the case of the mute man: "Now he was casting out a demon that was mute. When the demon had gone out, the mute man spoke, and the people marveled." It is clear from this that what caused the loss of speech was not a physical problem, but the demon that lived in the man. As soon as the demon left, the man who had been mute spoke.

"Blind and mute," adds Matthew (12:22). This was a most merciful deliverance indeed, and every onlooker should have been deeply thankful to God. The common people had some appreciation of it, for they said, "Can this be the Son of David?" Again and again, simple people have been very true in seeing the hand of God.

But in truth a mute spirit has taken hold of the heart of man: he has no voice for God, in prayer or in praise (v. 14). God was in Christ in power to free man from bondage to the "strong man, fully armed." He was there in a fullness of grace that could pour out rich blessing. But pride and hatred closed every way into the heart of man, so he would not receive the love Christ brought. They sealed his lips against confessing need or giving praise for good received.

In Luke 11 we have a man with a mute spirit, unable to speak; no praise coming from his lips to God. It is the work of the enemy to stop the praise of God. Again this blessed Man dismisses the enemy, and "the mute man spoke, and the people marvelled". Have we not marvelled as we have listened to praise from lips that were until now unable to respond to God?

Here on earth the Lord was giving a sample of what will mark the world to come. He used powers that others later used through His name. Hebrews 6:5 calls them "the powers of the age to come." The millennial age will give a full display of the defeat of Satan, to the glory of God, and this in and by man. His healing of diseases and casting out of demons showed in part what will be public and worldwide in that day.

It is the way of man to marvel at things he can neither understand nor imitate. But such an emotion does not affect either the heart or the conscience. This characteristic is several times recorded of the unthinking crowd (Matt. 9:33; Luke 11:14; John 7:21)... On the other hand, the word also describes our Lord. We read that Jesus marvelled at the stubborn unbelief of men's hearts (Mark 6:6). That use of the word is well worth our thought.

To doubt the miracle was impossible. So some tried to discredit it as an act of divine power. They said the power came from Beelzebub, the prince of the demons. Others tested Him by asking for a sign from heaven, to prove His mission was real. His work of power and mercy stirred up opposition from different groups.

The meaning of this word is much disputed. Some link it with BAAL-ZEBUB, "lord of the fly," in the Old Testament, but others believe it to be a term of contempt meaning "lord of dung." The Jews charged the Lord with casting out demons by Beelzebul (as it should be spelled), and the charge was blasphemy. They call him "the prince of the demons," which shows what they meant: the head of those demons was enabling the Lord to cast them out.

The Lord cast out a mute demon. The man He set free spoke. The crowd marvelled, and well they might, for as Matthew tells us the man had been blind as well as mute. Everyone saw that he both spoke and saw. To doubt the miracle was impossible. Some tried to discredit it as an act of divine power. They credited the power on display to Beelzebub, the prince of the demons.

The crowds wondered on this occasion, but the spirit of unbelief is stronger than the power of evidence... We must tell the instruments of Satan's power apart from the devil himself. The word "devils" confuses the two; the right word is "demons"... Satan does not lead everyone the same way; he fits his action to the flesh of each person. Some men are violent in their unbelief, while others are more religious. Some tested Him and asked Him for a sign from heaven. They were not content with what God had given. Yet no outward proof could be more convincing than driving out Satan's power.

It is hard to say which deserves more blame: their spiritual incompetence or their desperate wickedness. If they truly could not tell the hand of God from the hand of Satan, they were completely unfit to teach God's people. Or else they saw God's power and credited it to hell on purpose, because it did not work through official channels. If so, the wickedness of it is almost too awful to think about. No evil is worse than religious evil.

There are times when one may leave objections unnoticed... But at other times you must meet the enemy head on and prove his suggestions or accusations false. So the Lord now showed the folly of these people. People will stoop to any folly to oppose the work of God! Satan divided against himself! Who would have supposed that creatures with reason would put forward such a theory?... Yet it was necessary to do it. Experience teaches how easily a crowd is led away by sound without substance.

Our Lord had been casting out a demon, showing the power of the Spirit of God, through whom He performed all His miracles. Seeing this power used to destroy the works of the devil, in the face of that witness, the leaders credited it to the devil... So the rulers called the Holy Spirit the devil. What was left for a people who confused God and Satan? What forgiveness could there be for those who acted this way, not in ignorance, but knowingly and on purpose?

He had shown the power that cast out demons; they credited it to the prince of the demons. Yet He had bound the strong man; He had plundered his goods; and this proved that the kingdom of God had truly come. God had come to deliver man. In that case everything took its true place: it belonged either to the devil or to the Lord.

Others did not go quite so far as this. But they still came "to test Him," seeking "a sign from heaven." Satan does not lead everyone in the same way. He suits his action to the flesh of each. Some men are violent in their unbelief, while others are more religious. They were not content with what God had given, though no outward proof could be more convincing than driving Satan's power out.

Others shut their eyes to the many signs already given, and had the nerve to demand a sign from heaven.

On both the earlier and the later occasions, the request of the Jewish teachers was a silent denial that the Lord's miracles were signs from heaven. At the same time it implied that His marvellous power came from Satan — as if He cast out demons by Beelzebub, the prince of the demons. For if the miracles were not from "above," they must have been from "beneath."

Signs in plenty the Lord had given. His works were well known, and they showed that the Father had sent Him. But persistent unbelievers would make God responsible for their sin. They claimed they could not believe, because the evidence so far was not enough. Now the people Luke refers to, testing the Lord, sought from Him a sign from heaven. But they did not know whom they were dealing with. The One they approached read their hearts and searched them through and through.

The most significant token God ever gave to man was before them in the person of His Son, who eclipsed every other sign. But such is unbelief. It can walk into the presence of the full display of God. It can gaze at a light brighter than the sun at noon — and there and then ask God for a cheap candle.

But He had come in grace, and He had given ample evidence of it. In God's mind, signs from heaven were signs of judgment before that great and terrible day. God gave every sign of grace on earth, where it was wanted, and where mercy brought it and produced it, to show there was deliverance in grace. No wonder the Lord groaned at this generation. They sought a sign. They rejected all He had done and the evidence He had shown in grace, and they asked for what would be signs of judgment. God would not feed their unbelief, though He gave them every ground for faith.

They wanted to see a miracle. It had to be an astounding one — so outstanding that there would be no option but to call it "from heaven." The Lord knew that they said this while testing Him. … The sign of Jonah was not a sign from heaven but a sign from the deep, from the depth of the sea! Jonah in the fish's belly pointed to Christ gone into death. The sign they needed was not some jaw-dropping miracle. It was a sign from the deep: the Son of Man enduring death for the sins of others. Even against such hardness and opposition, the Lord graciously presents Himself as the One who had come to suffer for sinners and save them.

He openly proved their suggestion wrong, though it seems they had not the courage to say it in front of Him. There are times when one may leave an objection unnoticed. We see an example of this in Mark 3:21, where the Lord's friends said He was out of His mind. Of that it appears He took no notice. But there are other times when the enemy must be met boldly, and his suggestions or accusations clearly proved wrong. … Making this plain was enough to refute it completely. Yet it needed to be done, for experience teaches how easily the crowd is led away by sound without substance — that is, by foolish statements which will not stand up to examination.

So He reads their very thoughts — a miracle in itself, which should have startled them.

All worldly experience proves that division and rivalry in a community lead to break-up. It is a universal rule that unity is strength. A kingdom or a household divided against itself cannot last. And if Satan had turned against himself, as the words of the scribes implied, he could not continue; he would have to destroy himself.

Man had already been tested by power. Anyone who could credit the casting out of Satan to Satan himself stood self-condemned. It would make Satan more foolish than the most foolish man, for it is a universal principle that a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. Can it be thought that Satan deliberately destroys his own kingdom and himself? Is he really suicidal? The Jews then showed how far they had fallen when they attributed to Satan the power that cast out demons.

It is inconceivable that the Devil could supply the power to destroy his own kingdom, which he controls. The passage is full of meaning apart from the argument it contains. He who knows all things in perfect knowledge tells us that Satan is a person and a king. He has a kingdom over which he rules. The demons are in his kingdom, one with the head in thought and purpose. (The translation "devils" is not correct. There is one devil, but the fallen angels are demons.)

The compassionate Saviour stooped to reason with His evil critics. … The true position was this. Satan, as the strong one, had long kept his captives in peace. Now a Stronger had come, with power to overcome him and divide the spoils. … He has met the enemy in his last stronghold — death — and has defeated him, putting away sin as He did so. Every child of Adam can be set free from Satan's grip at once by appealing to the Saviour's grace. Souls in distress over sin need not trouble themselves with the ways and criticism of quarrelsome religious people. The Saviour is their true resource; let them cast themselves on Him.

He openly refuted their suggestion, which it seems they had not the courage to make in front of Him... There are occasions when one may leave objections unnoticed... But there are times when one must boldly meet the enemy and plainly refute his suggestions or accusations. So the Lord now showed the folly of these people. There is no folly people will not stoop to in opposing the work of God!... For experience teaches how easily a crowd follows words that sound impressive but say nothing, that is to say, foolish statements which do not stand up to examination.

The meaning of this word is much disputed. Some connect it with BAAL-ZEBUB, "lord of the fly," in the Old Testament. Others believe it is a term of contempt, meaning "lord of dung." The Jews, who blasphemously charged the Lord with casting out demons by Beelzebul (the correct spelling), call him "the prince of the demons." They meant that the head of those demons gave the Lord the power to cast them out. The Lord shows the folly of supposing that the same evil one who was seeking to build up a kingdom should at the same time be the means of pulling it down. He also denounces the dreadful blasphemy of saying that the work done by the Holy Spirit was done by the influence of Satan. This blasphemy against the Holy Spirit was the sin that should never be forgiven.

The Lord discerned the working of their minds and showed them their inconsistency. Satan claimed that the Lord is using his own (Satan's) power to cast out demons, but if this were the case Satan's kingdom would be divided against itself. It could not possibly stand: it would ruin itself immediately. Satan is certainly not going to use his power deliberately against himself.

The passage is full of meaning apart from the argument it contains. He who knows all things in perfect knowledge tells us that Satan is a person and a king, for he has a kingdom over which he rules. The demons are in his kingdom, one with the head in thought and purpose. (The translation "devils" is not correct. There is one devil, but the fallen angels are demons.) How little we know of his awful power, of his kingdom and the agencies at his command to destroy body and soul! We need not know it all. It is enough to know that he is a defeated enemy. The victor has plundered his kingdom. He has annulled the one who had the power of death, that is, the Devil.

Man is put to the proof here again. He had already been tested by power. The man who could credit Satan with the very thing that cast out Satan condemned himself. It would make Satan more foolish than the most foolish man. A kingdom divided against itself cannot stand — that rule holds everywhere. Can it be thought that Satan deliberately destroys his own kingdom and himself? Is he really suicidal?

The very style in which He conducts the argument has a beauty and an order. He begins with the gentler argument and then goes on to the stronger... Then He gives the parable of the strong man to show that it was by the finger of God He cast them out. The strong man only gets his house robbed by someone stronger than himself. God alone is stronger than Satan... Satan is not afraid of us, but he has more than his match in the Son of God. He is bold as a lion when he comes to you and me, but he trembles in the presence of Christ.

The meaning of this word is much disputed. Some connect it with Baal-zebub, "lord of the fly," in the Old Testament, but others believe it to be a term of contempt meaning "lord of dung." The Jews blasphemously charged the Lord with casting out demons by Beelzebul (that is how it should be spelled). They call him "the prince of the demons." So they meant that the head of those demons enabled the Lord to cast them out. The Lord shows the folly of this idea. Why would the same evil one who was building up a kingdom also be the means of pulling it down?

Then again, what a question to put to them: "And if I cast out demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your sons cast them out?" It would be strange indeed to say that one case came from the devil and another case came from something else! What the Lord did was by the Spirit of God.

Besides, their sons claimed to cast out demons — and they admitted it themselves. Was it an opposite power that worked in the same way? Or how did they distinguish? These, then, would be their judges.

God had before this occasionally given power to Jews to cast out demons. Faith is always honoured by God. Even on the darkest day the Lord kept the holy fire burning, so that His light should not go out completely from the earth… No unbelief on their part ever irritated the Lord. Far from it — He could calmly acknowledge what had been of God among them, though this in no way stopped them from denying God Himself present among men.

Among the Jews there were, and still are, men who profess to be exorcists, claiming power to cast out demons… The Lord certainly did not mean His own disciples. He had given them the power to cast out demons in His name. He meant the school of Pharisees, who practised, or claimed to practise, exorcism. The question He put to them demanded an answer they did not care to give, for it would have been their own condemnation.

In His reply, Jesus first showed that their accusation made no sense at all. It meant the absurdity of Satan acting against himself. Then He showed that, if their accusation were true, it would fall back on the heads of their sons, if not on their own.

If they were really quite unable to distinguish between the hand of God and the hand of Satan, they were utterly unfit to be teachers of God's people. Or else they saw God's power and deliberately called it the work of hell, just because it did not come through official channels. The wickedness of that is almost too awful to think about. No evil is worse than religious evil.

The Lord shows the link between the demon and sickness, weakness, or other trouble of body or mind. We see it here in the case of the mute man. This makes it clear: what took away his speech was not a physical problem, but the demon that lived in him. As soon as the demon left, the one who had been mute spoke. In His work here on earth the Lord was giving a sample of what will mark the world to come.

In verse 19, He makes the point that His attackers knew better. They had first-hand experience through their sons. They accused the Lord against better knowledge. Therefore, their sons would be their judges. Second, He points out that there was only one reasonable explanation. If a stronger one had overcome the strong man (Satan), that stronger one must be God. So their opposition to Christ was opposition to God.

The fact was admitted: He cast out the demons by the finger of God, and so the kingdom of God had come among them. They would give the credit to Satan rather than admit that God had visited them in goodness. They proved themselves by this to be the children of Satan. The real truth was this: a great conflict was on show between Christ, working by the power and finger of God, and Satan. Since this conflict was real, they had to take one side or the other.

The magicians could not imitate it, and they had to admit as much. Only God can bring life out of death. They could only confess, "This is the finger of God," and withdraw from the contest.

This is an expression of no small importance, "the kingdom of God has come upon you." In another sense it might be said that the kingdom of God was near. Here it is said to have come, because Christ was there. Christ brought, as it were, the kingdom of God in His own person. Everyone else needs the kingdom of God to come, so that they can be in it. But Christ is a Divine Person, and He brought that kingdom in Himself. He displayed it by His own power, shown in the overthrow of Satan, as He cast out demons.

When the Lord was here below and displayed His power over Satan, it was the Kingdom of God: it could be called that because the King — the power of God — was there... In the Lord's case it was not occasional, exceptional, or partial. It was the same in every case. Even where the disciples themselves, using His name, failed to cast them out, He always did it with a word. The Kingdom of God, therefore, had come as a witness of His power, not yet as a state and sphere of display.

Demons had never been cast out in such numbers before the Lord's time. Such work could only be the finger of God. It forced one firm conclusion: the kingdom of God had come upon them... Satan was like a strong man in armour, guarding his stronghold. His goods stayed safe as long as his strength held. But a stronger one, the Son of God, attacked in overwhelming power. He stripped Satan of his goods and armour and divided the spoils. That is, He gave others the benefit of His victory.

The Lord spoke this parable in especially solemn circumstances. The Lord had just cast a demon out of a man. His observers, instead of praising God for the act of mercy, went so far in their wickedness as to credit His power to Beelzebub. It was not the uneducated crowd who did this, but the religious leaders of the people. He gave the parable to show the true state of affairs between the Lord Jesus and the great enemy. The strong man is Satan. In every age he has proved himself too strong for his victims.

The strong one is Satan; the stronger than he is the Son of God. Satan's "palace" is the world as it is now; "his goods" are the men and women who live in it. The position is a terrible one, and no less so because most people have no idea of it. Man's revolt from God has not given him the independence he wanted; it has reduced him to slavery under Satan instead.

False peace. "When a strong man armed keeps his palace, his goods are in peace" (Luke 11:21). This is the devil's peace; he rocks men in the cradle of security; he cries Peace, peace, when men are on the edge of hell. The seeming peace a sinner has does not come from knowing he is happy, but from not knowing he is in danger.

He will hold some with the wine-cup. Others he will trap with a pack of cards. Others he will entangle with the theatre, or a novel, or the love of money, or the power of lust, or the appeal of knowledge, or something of that sort… That is a false peace. It is the devil's lullaby for souls deceived by sin, and a Christless religion often helps them on toward hell. Thank God if you are troubled now about your sins and your lost condition.

In Luke chapter 11 we read, "When a stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he takes from him all his armour in which he trusted." What was the armour he trusted in? It was the certainty that every man of Adam's race would fall to one or all of these three temptations. That was the armour Satan trusted, and the Lord took it away.

For a long time the strong one had used his ruinous, withering influence; for a long time his goods were in peace. Now the stronger than he had come and had conquered him. His power was broken before the Seed of the woman; he could no longer keep what he held. Demons, even a legion of them, were cast out. Blind saw, lame walked, lepers were cleansed, deaf heard, mute spoke, and dead were raised.

If Satan was the strong man in the picture, Jesus was now stripping him of his goods and dividing his spoils. The whole ministry of Jesus was proof of a power greater than Satan's in the world. It is true that this did not finally deliver, because it did not touch the judgment of God. It was present and not eternal deliverance. It was the overthrow of Satan, not the satisfaction of God. Sin could not yet be abolished, and judgment still remained. No grace, no power, no ministry can take away sin — nothing but the sacrifice of Himself.

Satan does not tempt God's children because they have sin in them, but because they have grace in them. If they had no grace he would not disturb them, for where he keeps possession all is in peace (Luke 11:21). A thief will not break into an empty house, but where he thinks there is treasure.

Some suggested that the Son of God worked in this world by the power of Beelzebub. The suggestion was as absurd as it was blasphemous. But it gave the Saviour a chance to show where the fall has left man in relation to Satan. It also showed His own relation to the enemy: He had come from heaven for man's deliverance and blessing. The strong one is Satan. The one stronger than he is the Son of God. Satan's "palace" is the world as it is now; "his goods" are the men and women who live in it. The position is a terrible one, and no less so because most people have no idea they are in it.

In Luke chapter 11 we read, "when one stronger than he attacks him and overcomes him, he takes away his armour in which he trusted." What was his armour in which he trusted? It was that every man of Adam's race would fall to one or all of these three temptations. That was the armour in which Satan trusted, and the Lord took it away.

One stronger than Satan takes away all his "armour," Luke 11:22. The Christian is urged to put on the "whole armour of God," the panoply. This is so that he can stand in the evil day, in his conflict with the spiritual powers of wickedness in the heavenly places, Ephesians 6:11, 13.

He might have said, "I am God." Then no rebel creature would have stood up against Him. But there would have been no example for us. He overcame by keeping the place He had taken as man, and that was to obey. Blessed, perfect obedience! Even with bread in view, He would not take it for Himself without the word from God's mouth. Man was to live by that word, and not by bread alone. So it was written: that was enough for Him. And Satan had to change his ground.

Before there could be deliverance, He had to meet the strong man and overcome him. In the wilderness He bound him; at the cross He bruised him. By submitting to death for a brief moment, He annulled Satan's power. His resurrection is the glorious proof of His complete triumph over all the might of the enemy. Deliverance is, as a result, available for all. Nobody needs to stay a single hour under the dominion of the strong man.

How well we know that awful peace! We were once the strong man's goods, held fast, until the stronger one came and overcame him. We are spoils of that victory, now at the disposal of the Victor.

But He was Conqueror for us, and so He comes straight out with the spoils of that day, to lay them at our feet. He had been alone in the conflict, but would not be alone in the victory... Jesus, the Son of God, comes out from the wilderness to publish peace and to heal disease. He meets every need of those who were the captives of this enemy. He lets them know that He had conquered for them.

If Satan was the strong man in the figure, Jesus was now stripping him of his goods and dividing his spoils. The whole ministry of Jesus was the evidence of a power greater than Satan's in the world. It is true that this did not finally deliver, because it did not touch the judgment of God. It was present and not eternal deliverance. It was the overthrow of Satan, not the satisfaction of God. Sin could not yet have been abolished, and judgment must still have remained. No grace, no power, no ministry can take away sin — nothing but the sacrifice of Himself. That infinitely deeper question was settled not in the life of Jesus, but in His atoning death on the cross.

The Lord points out the crisis for faith. When the worst unbelief works, it is just the moment for bold openness of faith. With this standard the believer too wins the victory. The middle way here is a delusion. Christ alone is worthy of all trust. Neutrality here is fatal.

Note there is no neutrality as to position or practice in this verse. No person can say, "I am not with Christ, but I am NOT against Him." It is either a case of "with" or "against." Nor can a person say, "Though I do not gather, I do NOT scatter." It is either a case of "gathering" or "scattering." In a vote, one person counts as two. How searching this is!

The first part of this saying deals with each person's own relation to the Person of Christ. The second deals with His Work.

The first is especially true of the man who is not converted. The second is true of the believer whose work is worldly. A man may himself be truly with Christ, and yet in his work build up or prop up what belongs to the world. Whatever the visible results, such a person may become the most popular of preachers. He may produce wide effects, charitable and religious. But the Lord says, "whoever does not gather with me scatters." There is no scattering so real in the sight of God as the gathering of Christians on false principles.

J. N. Darby, writing on this verse, said, "It is not Christians but Christ who has become God's centre. We may gather Christians together, but if it is not Christ in one's own spirit, it is scattering. God knows no centre of union but the Lord Jesus Christ. It is Himself the Object, and nothing but Christ can be the centre. Whatever is not gathering round that centre, for Him and from Him, is scattering. There may be gathering, but if not 'with Me', it is scattering. We are so sectarian by nature that we need to watch against this. I cannot make Christ the centre of my efforts if He is not the centre of my thoughts."

In the first case John told the Lord that they had stopped a man who was casting out demons in His name, because "he does not follow with us." The answer was, "Do not stop him, for the one who is not against you is for you." In the Lord's conflict with Satan, anyone working toward the same end was really on His side, even if he did not take the stand of being His disciple. He might fall short in confession and walk. But as long as he was not against the Lord in His war with the power of the enemy, he was for Him… The second case is very different. Here the enemies of Christ charge Him with casting out demons through Beelzebub, the prince of the demons… When the question was between Christ and Satan, no neutrality could be permitted. To stand aloof was to side with the enemy. Not to gather, not to gather positively to Him, was to scatter.

He was without doubt wielding the power of God in grace and blessing to needy men. Those who opposed Him were not gatherers but scatterers of God's "beautiful flock" (Jer. 13:20). Let us tremble in case religious prejudice lands us in this same terrible position today. Where the hand of God is plain to see, and where the Spirit of grace is blessing and comforting souls, let us own it openly. Let us praise and magnify our God with no reserve in our hearts.

It is the case of one from whom the unclean spirit has gone out (not cast out), only to return later with sevenfold power... Reformation is not enough, whether for that nation or for individuals, in this or in any other day. Living faith in the One who died and rose again alone can truly meet human need.

The unclean spirit had gone out, that was all. The stronger Man had not driven him out, so his title to the house is clear. He returns, and everything he finds there had only made it more attractive to him.

The Lord invited all who laboured and were burdened to come to Him, and He would give them "rest"... The unclean spirit walks through dry places, seeking "rest," but finds none. Matt. 12:43; Luke 11:24.

The restless spirit of evil may have been removed by the dealings of God, through the outward effects of mercy. But though he has wandered long, he has not lost his memory of his house. Providence — the dealings of God — has long kept him at a distance. The house may be empty, but it has not stopped being his house.

Here we find the picture of the unclean spirit — that is, the spirit of idolatry. It had once possessed the Jewish nation. But here it is applied not merely to a nation, but to a single person. It takes a more moral shape than in the Gospel of Matthew, where it follows God's dealings with the nation.

Luke was inspired to widen the bearing of these instructions, or rather to record what would deal with any soul in any place or time. The question here is about man. It is about the last state of the one whom the unclean spirit has somehow left for a while — left without salvation, and without the positive new work of divine grace. He may be a changed character, as men say; he may become moral, or even religious; but is he born again?

The unclean spirit of idolatry among the Jews came before the captivity in Babylon, and was its moral cause. Since then the Jews have generally been free of that evil... But they just as firmly rejected Jesus the Messiah... And they are still "empty," as Matthew says, empty of the power of God. What good is it then to be swept and adorned?

The man out of whom the devil went is our Lord's own illustration that an empty house will never lack a tenant. The sweeping and decorating and all the rest will not keep out the devil, but perhaps only make him more determined to move in. Nothing will save from it but the positive possession of it by another, who will not and need not give it up.

A man may leave off gross evil, he may give up false religion, or, as in this case, idolatry; but none of this consecrates a man. What settles the matter is the presence of God in possession of a soul. It is having a new nature, not simply the absence of this or that evil. The unclean spirit can return to the house unless the power of God's Spirit already fills it. That power alone shuts Satan out.

The house is his still, as in the parable. The unclean spirit had gone out, that was all. The stronger Man had not driven him out, so his claim to it is clear. He returns, and everything he finds there had only made it more attractive to him. He finds it clean and decorated. So he returns with many a like-minded spirit, and makes its last state worse than its first.

A person might be convinced by evidence of one sort or another, claim to follow Christ, and stand outwardly with Him. But the mere absence of outward evil will never bring a soul to God. God Himself must be known, and Jesus Himself received, not merely the unclean spirit be gone out. A man may leave off gross evil, he may give up false religion, or, as in this case, idolatry; but none of this consecrates a man. What settles the matter is the presence of God in possession of a soul. It is having a new nature, not merely the absence of this or that evil. The unclean spirit can return to the house unless the power of God's Spirit already occupies it. Only that power truly shuts Satan out.

The Holy Spirit was the great One who displayed and energised power. Where He was not, the unclean spirit might leave a man. The outward form of religion could be there, but the Holy Spirit is not. So the unclean spirit returns with many more, and the last state is worse than the first... On his return there is nothing to block his entrance, no power of the Lord there. However swept and ornamented, it is still the empty house of Satan; he comes there with his friends, and it is worse than before.

Verses 24-26 are clearly prophetic. At that moment the unclean spirit of their ancient idolatry had gone out of Israel. They were "swept and garnished" on the outside, yet they were refusing the One sent by God to occupy the house. As a result the old unclean spirit would return with others worse than himself. Their state would then be worse than at the beginning.

The broom of Babylon may have swept the house of Israel, and to this day they may hate idols. But a clean house may be just as fit for Satan as an unclean one. Reform will not do. The same is true of the Christian world. I hope there is not a single heart here that trusts in reform... The Lord teaches us that the swept and decorated house may be worse than before.

This was only outward moral reform — swept and garnished — but they never received the better Occupant, the Lord Jesus. He was there, and He alone could overcome the power of Satan. But the self-righteous pride of Israel's heart refused Him. Today large numbers are in the same alarming condition. They have an empty religion that flatters their self-righteousness, but no heart for the Lord Jesus, the Son of God.

A person might claim to follow Christ for reasons of evidence or conviction, and be with Him on the outside. But the mere absence of outward evil will never bring a soul to God. God Himself must be known, and Jesus Himself received — not merely the unclean spirit gone out. A man may leave off gross evil, he may give up false religion, or, as in this case, idolatry; but none of this consecrates a man. What settles the matter is the presence of God in possession of a soul. It is having a new nature, not merely the absence of this or that evil. The unclean spirit can return to the house unless the power of God's Spirit already occupies it. That power alone shuts Satan out.

If that nation had received Christ, He would have filled up the void, and they would have been safe from this dreadful intrusion of wicked spirits. In the same way, if Christ does not fill the believer, he is always open to being occupied and possessed by what is opposed to Christ. An empty vessel he should not be, and indeed cannot be.

It is the case of one from whom the unclean spirit has gone out (not cast out), only to return later with sevenfold power… Reformation is not enough. That holds for that nation and for each person, in this or in any other day. It will not put the soul beyond the reach of the enemy's power. Only living faith in the One who died and rose again truly meets human need.

The unclean spirit had gone out, that was all; he had not been sent out by the stronger Man — so his claim to it is clear. He returns, and everything he finds there has only made it more desirable to him. He finds it clean and decorated. So he returns with many a kindred spirit, and makes its last state worse than its first.

The Lord pictures the unclean spirit who returns to the man he had left, with seven other spirits more wicked than himself. But this makes eight, and brings about the "last state" which "is worse than the first."

Verses 24-26 are clearly prophetic. At that moment the unclean spirit of their ancient idolatry had gone out of Israel. On the outside they were "swept and put in order." But they were busy refusing the One sent by God to occupy the house. As a result the old unclean spirit would return with others worse than himself, and so their state would be worse than at the beginning.

In Luke the Holy Spirit does not limit this warning to "that generation." He widens it to "man." The end of the people and the nations of Christendom will be no better. For God is not mocked. They have not continued in God's goodness and must also be cut off.

It was illustrated in Israel, and I believe it will be in Christendom. The broom of Babylon may have swept the house of Israel. To this day they may hate idols. But a clean house may be just as fit for Satan as a dirty one. Reformation will not do… The Lord teaches us that the swept and decorated house may be worse than before.

What He was saying seems to have pressed with moral power on the heart of one who was listening. So, "as He spoke," she lifted up her voice and said, "Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts at which you nursed." This was a testimony to the power of the words of our divine Teacher, which is His glory in this Gospel.

She had realised that Christ was not like others, that He stood out from the crowd, and that there was blessing in being associated with Him. What she had not understood was how this could happen. The best she could think of were natural bonds, and so His mother would be blessed above all others. She was indeed blessed among women. But there were blessings for others, and these were even higher than Mary's: "blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it." The key to being linked with Christ was not a natural relationship but a spiritual one.

A woman in the crowd saw something of His excellence, and called His mother blessed. This He accepted, for the first word of His reply was, "Yes." Yet He indicated something more blessed still. The truest blessedness for us lies in receiving and keeping the Word of God. The spiritual link formed by the Word is more intimate and enduring than any link formed in the flesh.

Of course it was a blessed thing to be the mother of the Lord. Yet it was only a natural relationship, though a miracle. And it could not have been a small thing to her heart. Still, it was not equal to the blessing of the word of God bringing a soul to Himself. Beloved friends, only let the pure word of God stay in your hearts. You will find that it sweeps away all the cobwebs of the flesh.

Our Lord plainly meant His hearers to understand this. No mere emotional admiration of Himself or His words could take the place of faith, godliness and a holy life. It is not fanciful to suppose that the Saviour was guarding against lifting the creature too high. The human heart leans that way. In short, it is right to count Mary favoured. It is a serious wrong to pay her honours due only to God. And it is a mistake to forget that even spiritual blessedness goes beyond any honour in the flesh.

The Jewish woman was true to the instincts of humanity and the traditions of her people when she saw the Messiah casting out demons. The gospel makes it plain and certain. It is no question of a relationship after the flesh, but of the authority and blessing of the divine word. So it is as open to the Gentile as to the Jew. To believe it is the obedience of faith. It is to be in living association with God, which cannot be otherwise.

Power has effects that last only for a time — even power as great as that which Jesus wielded over man or the enemy. But "whoever does the will of God abides forever" (1 John 2:17). And "whoever believes in the Son has eternal life" (John 3:36). The Word of God is the link between man on earth and God above.

Menounge is used only three times in the New Testament... It has something of the sense of "yes, indeed, if you talk of that." So in Luke 11:28, "If you talk of blessing, such and such are the really blessed."

A woman in the crowd that was listening to Him lifted up her voice and said, "Blessed is the womb that bore You, and the breasts that You have nursed." And He answers, "Yes, rather" — so it is, indeed, but there is a greater blessedness — "blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it."

They speak of the honour of being His mother. No, we would say, that has nothing to do with it. The closest connection with the Son of Man is not equal to keeping the word of God. Religious people make a great deal of natural affection. It is blessed in its way, but it is nothing compared to the life of God in my soul.

She had realised that Christ was not like others, that He stood out from the crowd, and that being linked with Him brought blessing. What she had not understood was how that link is made. The best she could think of were natural bonds... She was indeed blessed among women, but there were blessings for others, and these were even higher than Mary's... The key to being linked with Christ was not a natural relationship but a spiritual one. It all hinged on receiving God's word, hearing it and keeping it.

Without denying the value of divine power in such a world as this, yet, said our Lord, "rather blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it."... The world is in a bad state, and so are the people in it. That very badness is the occasion for God to bring in what never passes away — what will last when the world is gone. There is nothing here below that introduces the eternal like the word of God. Power lasts only for a time in its effects, even power as great as the power Jesus used over man or the enemy; but "whoever does the will of God abides forever" (1 John 2:17). And "whoever believes in the Son has eternal life" (John 3:36). The word of God is the link between man on earth and God above; it is the seed of imperishable life that lives and lasts forever.

Of all the women who have ever lived, not one had such a blessed privilege as Mary. She was indeed "highly favoured." But as we write these words we recall again the Lord's reply to the woman who cried out from the crowd... "Yes, rather," He answered, "blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it." This blessedness is open to every one of God's people.

Our Lord plainly meant His hearers to understand this. Admiration of Himself or His words, if it is only emotional, cannot take the place of faith, godliness and a holy life... In short, it is right to call Mary favoured. It is seriously wrong to pay her honours that belong to God alone. And it is a mistake to forget that spiritual blessedness rises above any honour in the flesh.

Every true lover of God will treasure up His word in the heart. Where the word is treasured with love like that, its holy influence will show in the whole life, character and conduct. God gave His word so that it may govern our conduct, form our character and shape our way. If His word does not have this practical effect on us, it is pointless for us to speak of loving Him.

Instead of keeping the Word of God, they were seeking outward signs. They wanted something they could see, something they could touch and have among them — not only present, but earthly and suited to the world.

The Lord had given signs in plenty (John 2:23). His works were well known, and they proved that the Father had sent Him (John 5:36). But stubborn unbelievers would make God responsible for their sin. They claimed they could not believe because the evidence so far was not enough. Now the people Luke writes about tested the Lord and asked Him for a sign from heaven. But they did not know who they were dealing with. The One they asked read their hearts and searched them through and through.

The sign of Jonah was not a sign from heaven but a sign from the deep, from the depth of the sea! Jonah in the fish's belly pointed to Christ going into death (Matt. 12:40). The sign they needed was not a jaw-dropping miracle but the Son of Man enduring death for the sins of others. Even against such hardness and opposition, the Lord graciously presents Himself as the One who had come to suffer for sinners and save them.

Matthew 12 speaks of Jonah spending three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish. That pictures the death and resurrection of Christ — a great sign indeed, yet ignored by Israel. Luke stresses instead that Jonah was a sign to the Ninevites. Here his preaching comes first, the preaching that produced repentance, and that among Gentiles. In the same way, the emphasis here is on the Word of God, which works in power to produce repentance and faith.

Jonah was a sign here, not as in the whale's belly, but as preaching without any miracle to the Ninevites, who repented even though they were uneducated pagans. In the same way the pagan Queen of Sheba wanted wisdom so much that she came to Solomon to hear him, with no miracle or sign as evidence — and one greater than Solomon was there. The first point is who are blessed, then the responsibility, and then the reason for its rejection and darkness.

Jonah was a sign to the Ninevites. His presence among them meant that judgment was coming, and only their repentance could turn it away. It was the same with that generation. The Son of Man was to that generation what Jonah had been to the people of Nineveh.

The word "generation" is used in a moral sense and not a literal one. It means people of a certain type and character, just as the Lord used the word in Mark 9:19 and in Luke 11:29. The unbelieving generation will not pass away until the Lord's second coming, and neither will the generation of those who seek the Lord.

Instead of keeping the Word of God, they were seeking outward tokens. They wanted something they could see and touch, an object right there among them — not only present, but earthly and suited to the world.

They were asking for a sign as though no signs had been given to them. Only one sign remained for them. He calls it "the sign of the prophet Jonah." Jonah preached to the Ninevites, but he was also a sign to them. He appeared among them as one who had come up out of what looked like certain death. The Son of Man was about to go into actual death and come forth in resurrection, and that was the greatest of all signs.

Jonah was a sign to the Ninevites. His presence among them meant judgment was coming, to be turned away only by their repentance. So it was with that generation. The Son of Man was to that generation what Jonah had been to the people of Nineveh. Now, the Ninevites had repented. But the people in the Lord's day, as a people, had not.

What was the special feature of Jonah as a prophet? To whom did he prophesy? He was sent away from Israel to the Gentiles. And more than that: before Jonah could carry out his message rightly, he had to pass through the figure of death and resurrection… This is the sign which the Lord puts before the Pharisees. The Jewish nation was in such a state that He must leave them and go to the Gentiles — and that after a real death and resurrection, when Israel's hopes had perished.

A quick look is enough to teach us why the Lord took this title. The people of Israel did not accept the kingdom of God which He proclaimed. On the contrary, He Himself was met with personal hatred. That hatred reached its peak in His crucifixion under a coalition of Jews and Gentiles, and in view of this He took the name Son of Man — a title of wider limits than Son of David.

The sign of Jonah, or of the Son of Man, must be fully answered in them, as the sign of Jonah was in the Ninevites. It is not yet answered, and so the Ninevites still judge them. But we know that it will be by and by. As Jonah's sin has been the sign of Israel's sin, so will his repentance be of their repentance.

If these men repented at the preaching of this risen man who brought them the Word of God, my friend, what will be the effect on you? You hear of Jesus, God's only Son, who died for sinners such as you.

Her coming tested the state of her soul. It proved the love of wisdom was in her heart, since a mere distant report about it moved her so much. The Pharisees had asked for a sign, the sure witness of a bad state of mind... they were starving in a land of plenty, simply because they had no desire. They were asking for signs right in the middle of the wonders of the hand of Christ. She took a long journey from a barren land, at the mere report of God's provisions in a distant country. With a true thirst of soul she used what she had, though it was little. They were reproaching the Lord, as though He had given them nothing, while His bounties were all around them.

The country from where the queen came who visited Solomon. She brought gold, precious stones, and a great store of spices. The Lord spoke of her as "the queen of the south." 1 Kings 10:1-13; 2 Chr. 9:1, 3, 9, 12; Matt. 12:42; Luke 11:31.

As to herself, we may presume she had never heard the voice of a prophet, or seen the oracles of God. She had no advantages (as we speak) from education, and was a complete stranger to the God of Israel. Her soul had, therefore, only a slender stock to trade with. She had simply, in her own land, heard of Solomon, his acts and his wisdom. This was all she had; but with such small provisions, she was ready to take a long untried journey.

Some have found the words about someone greater than Solomon difficult, because they did not read them closely. I remember someone asking me about it. They contrasted the glory of Solomon with the lowliness of Jesus. I pointed out to him, she did not come to see the glory of Solomon but to hear his wisdom. It is not glory here but wisdom. It does say about the fame of Solomon that it was "concerning the name of the LORD". So Christ was here concerned with the name of God and all that was due to Him.

This showed her earnestness of purpose to hear the wisdom of Solomon. Solomon, the wise and wealthy son of David, did not speak as the vessel of the Word of God in his ordinary talk, as the Lord Jesus did. Yet she came with no miracle to attract her and no sign to guide or confirm her, and she heard the wisdom of Solomon.

The Queen of Sheba came a long way to hear the wisdom of a servant of God. The men standing around Jesus as He spoke were unwilling to listen to the wisdom of the Son of God. They needed no hard journey at all. The Eternal Son had come from Heaven into their very streets. The rejection of Him, greater than Jonah, and greater than Solomon, is the ruin of men. "Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God" (John 3:18).

Poor, ignorant Gentiles understood the wisdom of God in His word better than His beloved people did. That was true whether His word came through the prophet or the king. It was true even when the Great King and Prophet was among them.

We may desire for ourselves, though in a land of plenty and not in distant Sheba, that we may have the same hearty value for everything of God. This is the most excellent condition. "To love what is good is better than knowing much about it." It is better to desire wisdom than to have gathered a large store of knowledge or information. It is better to have quick and lively spiritual tastes and senses than to have a great supply of food for them.

Instead of keeping the Word of God, they were seeking outward tokens. They wanted something they could see, an object they could touch, right there among them — not only present but earthly and suited to the world.

Then, again, there are the men of Nineveh themselves, from that great city which came to destruction in the end. "The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah." They were willing to own their own evil, their sinfulness, their forgetful ignorance of God. And they did this at the preaching of Jonah — a prophet far from faithful himself, who tried to escape from the mission on which God sent him. "And behold, something greater than Jonah is here." But where were the men of this generation, and what were they? Did they repent?

Jonah preached a remarkable sermon to the Ninevites: "Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown." They all "put on sackcloth, from the greatest of them to the least of them" (Jonah 3:5). There never was a sermon in the world's history that produced such an effect as Jonah's eight words. The whole people of Nineveh, from the king and his nobles downward, repented. The Book of Jonah says they "believed God" (3:5), and the Lord Jesus says they "repented" (Luke 11:32)... They believed God when He warned them of coming judgment, and so they repented. As has been well said, "Repentance is the teardrop in the eye of faith."

Jonah was a sign here, not in the whale's belly, but as a preacher without any miracle to the Ninevites. They could not read and did not know God, yet they repented... The point of this passage is to show the responsibility that rests on the preaching of Christ.