New Thoughts (3/30/07-4/4/07)
It is reasonable to think that this parable parallels that of the mustard seed (Mt 13:31-32), and as such, the meaning is likely to be much the same here as it was there. It’s interesting to see how the flow of these parables is moving from the far-flung wheat fields and into the house. Apart from the parable of the lamp, which Matthew actually places elsewhere in the course of his account, this seems to hold true. That might well be an artifact of Matthew’s methods of recollection. He may well have associated these different parables by thematic similarities to make their memorization easier. Such methods are certainly common enough.
It strikes me as just possible, though, that Matthew has done nothing of the sort, that this truly was the order of their delivery as Jesus taught. He is, after all, a masterful teacher. Should it really seem odd to us if He had arranged His message to be delivered in this more easily recalled sequence? More than that, I wonder if He had a higher purpose to this ordering. I cannot say with any sort of theological certainty that this is the case, but I am mindful of the capabilities of this great Rabbi. It seems clear that He was quite able to draw from His surroundings to create these parables on the spot. That does not necessitate that His entire message was likewise created on the spot. It would seem reasonable to expect that He knew His theme, knew what it was He intended to teach, and that it was only the specifics of imagery that required this last moment determination.
If I pursue this view of what we have seen so far, what do I find? His first lesson, the one I have seen has being the key to understanding the entirety of this message, was a discourse on the varied results of sowing seed (Mt 13:1-9). The soil that stands for our own hearts and lives varies in its receptiveness and its nurture of the seed that is cast to one and all indiscriminately. This, He has told us, explains how it is that not all who hear this Gospel come to salvation. It explains much of what we continue to see in the body of Christ at large today. Some are fervently devoted to this Savior. Some start well but fail to mature. Some will simply have nothing to do with it. It is, it seems, an encouragement to the missionary and the evangelist: In spite of all these who don’t seem to get it, those who do will more than make up for it.
The next parable, regarding wheat and tares (Mt 13:24-30), moved from the doubts that might trouble His followers as they served, to the doubts that might dog them from more general experience. The devil, after all, loves to encourage our doubts, seeks to implant unbelief in us. Jesus has already cut off that attack when it comes to the seeming futility of those out in the ministry fields. This was, if you will an attack on our faith in God’s planning, His wisdom. Now, He has moved to the attack of doubting God’s goodness. He addresses the issue of the presence of evil, assuring us that this is not God’s doing and it is not suffered by His caprice. Doubts such as these are common enough to all of us, yet it is still somewhat of a corporate concern as opposed to something more personally applicable.
Recall as well the way by which the people dealt with the tares. It was a family matter to cut the tares out from the wheat when the harvest came. Perhaps, then, one could look at this as having moved from the kingdom in its largest sense to the kingdom in its familial, more local sense. Surely, the preacher spreading the Gospel far and wide is serving the kingdom on its most universal level. They would preach even to the ends of the earth until all might hear that Salvation is come. Those who went out to identify the tares amidst the wheat had a more localized concern. This was their sustenance, their provision. This was, if you will, their congregation that they were tending to – the local body, perhaps.
With the mustard seed (Mt 13:31-32), Jesus has moved His lesson from the wheat fields that might be some distance from the house, to the garden that is next to the house. The wheat fields would likely serve more than the family with their bounty. It was in its way a community resource. The house garden, though, serves the house. We are still considering the kingdom of God, as we are in all of these parables. That is the constant theme of our Lord’s discourse, with each image He paints, He makes the kingdom less remote, more personal. The mustard tree grows to serve the family that grew it. The kingdom assuredly has a global reign. All nations shall come to know that He is Lord, as has always been the plan. It is not just a matter of global dominion, though. It is also there on the level of the people of God. It is to be considered in that light. Yet, even this does not exhaust the application of kingdom habits. It is a family matter. Kingdom perspective should permeate the ways and interactions of each family in the kingdom.
Now, the picture has become even more personal. The agricultural theme continues. We have gone from the wheat fields to the garden to the point of it all: making bread. We are in the house, with the produce of both field and garden, preparing to enjoy the fruit of that labor. Now we are one on one with the kingdom perspective. It ought to permeate the family. It also ought to permeate each of our lives individually. This is, perhaps, even more important in our age than it was then. That culture maintained the fabric of family, and this fabric kept the individual strong. Our culture has in many ways rent that fabric. We are out of our parents’ house at a much earlier age, far more inclined to move away from the town of our youth. It is not so for all, but it is a much more common occurrence in our society than it would have been there. As such, I see it all the more critical that we allow kingdom thinking to saturate our lives on this most personal level.
On first looking over this parable, which seems to close the sequence, it is striking that one can find application for it on all of these different levels. What a fitting end to this line of discourse! He has been moving closer and closer to the heart of His listener as these images open the kingdom perspective to our eyes. Now, as He brings it home to us as individual, He simultaneously offers us a vista that looks back over all that He has said to get us to this point. When once we have chewed on the most personal aspects of kingdom thinking, it will be quite natural for our perspective to spread outward once again. The kingdom perspective is primarily outward. It finds expression in desiring to see others aware of their need for redemption, to see them lay hold of the offer of redemption, and to grow from the rebirth of redemption into mature co-workers as the kingdom is spread to the nations.
With that, I think perhaps I should start to consider this parable in earnest. I will begin with the applications, as I see them, rather than the symbols by which they are presented. The gist of this brief lesson is sufficiently clear from what has preceded it. The smallness of the beginning by no means precludes the greatness of the result. The seed of the kingdom is tiny, but the tree that springs up from that seed is huge. The little bit of yeast this woman works into her dough is insignificant compared to all that flour and water, but it impacts the whole thing. Every aspect of the bread feels the influence of that yeast, and is changed by it. Welcome to the Christian life!
There is the image for this most personal application of the kingdom. As we go about our daily lives, it may seem that the amount of time we can devote to getting God’s Word into us, to focusing our thoughts on Him, is insignificant compared to all the other input we receive. We go about work surrounded by worldly concerns and worldly opinions. This is not without impact on us. If we expose ourselves to the entertainments and information that comes in to deluge our eyes and ears, we are again being fed on things that are alien and unhealthy for our spiritual bodies. Yet, we do find those moments that we can spend hiding God’s Word in our hearts. It may seem like those efforts are too little to withstand the flood of this opposing worldview, but hear the promise of the yeast! As it is hidden in the dough, it cannot be stopped. It will permeate that whole batch if only given time, and God has given us time.
The faith He has implanted in us will spread to inform all our being. The seed of the kingdom will grow. The impact of kingdom thinking on these other areas of our lives will be felt, and will reach a point where it is in control. This is our desire, as citizens of the holy Kingdom, that His ways would be our ways, that His thoughts would be our thoughts. The world we have grown up in by and large seeks to turn that on its head. If He exists at all, they reason, His ways had best be our ways, and He can darn well get used to thinking our thoughts. But, God is not unsettled by this. He has hidden His yeast in the hearts of His own, and it is renewing them day by day, permeating them, working its inevitable change.
Looking at this parable in what might seem a more prophetic sense, I see a message quite similar to what was found in the parable of the sower (Mt 13:1-9). When the yeast is first put in the dough, it doesn’t seem to do much. The fermenting process takes time, and near the beginning of that process, it may not seem to us that anything is happening. So, too, with ministry. We may preach the Gospel of the kingdom for quite awhile without seeing any obvious response to it. It may seem as fruitless as the seed cast on the roadway. But, like the farmer who sowed and went about his business until the crop was fully ready (Mk 4:26-29), so the woman with her bread. Having worked in the yeast, there is nothing for her to do but await the inevitable result.
Let me put it more plainly: The Word does not fail. When we declare the good news of Jesus come to save, of Jesus dead and buried as our sins are when we accept His saving grace, of Jesus risen from the grave and ascended to the heavens, as we, too, are reborn by His redeeming power; it may not seem that many pay attention. It may not seem like those who do pay attention are really hearing it. We may not see any immediate evidence that they are truly being remade by a daily renewal, the water of the Word may not appear to be washing them particularly clean. We see so many stains remaining. It can be discouraging to a preacher to think he is having no impact on his charges. It can be discouraging to a teacher to think that his students forever fail to lay hold of his lessons. But, the yeast holds a promise for the discouraged: The Word has been hid in those lives, and though the response may seem slow in coming, it is coming.
That first storm cloud that Elijah awaited took its time appearing, and even when it did, it seemed as nothing to a people long in the grips of drought (1Ki 18:43-45), but in time the sky ‘grew black with clouds’, and the rains came in earnest. God’s Word does not fail. When the minister is operating on the foundation of God’s Word, he need not wonder if there will be an impact. He need not be concerned about being hip enough or eloquent enough or exciting enough. He is neither the point nor the power of his ministry. The point and the power are all to Jesus, and it is Christ alone who shall cause the yeast of the Word to permeate the lives of those whom He has chosen. The minister and the teacher are both to be seen in the image of the woman here. They have hid the leaven of the kingdom in the dough of their charges. There is nothing more that woman can do to make the leaven do its job.
The leaven, like the planted seed, will do what it should without any further ado. In fact, I suspect if I were to check with those who bake, I would not be surprised to learn that any further efforts to speed the process would only lead to its failure. Think about the effect of the slammed oven door on the cake rising in that oven. The effort of the cook to ‘make sure’ has only made sure the failure of his effort. The cake has fallen because of his interference, and nothing will change that fact now.
The farmer who constantly digs up his seeds to see how they’re sprouting will not have to check too often. Soon enough, those seeds will fail, and he can forget about the crop.
So, too, the efforts of the over-zealous. If the seed has been planted, it will grow. If the yeast has been added, the dough will rise. If the Word of God has found a hearing, if the Holy Spirit has sown into that life, that life will be renewed. Oh, there is certainly a call for mentoring and discipleship, but how often do we try to pour on too much too soon and wind up doing nothing to help the Lord and rather a lot to hinder Him?
I know how frustrating it can be for a pastor or teacher to deal with people who can’t seem to recall to mind what they taught last week, let alone last month. Of course it’s frustrating. But, this is nothing new, and it’s certainly nothing that really reflects on them. Look, even Peter found it needful to keep repeating the same message to his charges. Why? Because those we teach and minister to are just as human as we are, and humans are by nature forgetful. If we who teach or preach were honest about it, we’d quickly recognize that we don’t remember our own lessons any much better than they. To that frustration, Jesus applies the yeast: You’ve done what you were sent to do, now I AM shall do as only I AM can do.
There is comfort here for those who become concerned by the unresponsiveness of their hearers. Oh, I’ve felt this one! You think you’ve made a most amazing point, and you look out, and nobody seems to get it. You’re excited by the things you’re declaring. Like, Paul, you can’t contain the burst of praise that’s welling up within you as you speak these great truths of God. Yet, you look around, and it’s as if nobody else in the whole room even fathoms what you’re saying. What are they, dead? Sleeping? Incapable of emotion? Oh, no! Maybe it’s me. Maybe I just can’t express myself well enough to be understood. Maybe I’ve just completely botched this thing God told me to teach. How shall I face Him, now? I’ve failed.
Yes, it can really be like that. Yes, even teachers, even pastors get insecure. Yes, it’s true. There’s a degree of performance to what we do. We don’t like to think about it in that light, but it’s true. Like a performer, we are trying to engage the thoughts, imaginations and emotions of our audience. For the musician, there’s the appreciative applause that greets his effort. There’s that ‘bond’ that occurs in a live performance when the musician can sense the responsiveness of the audience, and this just pushes his efforts higher. The teacher is rewarded with the occasionally reaction of light dawning upon somebody; that one who truly takes hold of what he is teaching and now runs with it. But, for the preacher, there isn’t really much of a place for this feedback. He is in a relatively somber setting, where the cultured have been trained to silent attentiveness.
Some, facing this enculturated behavior, feel the need to force it to change. No! You must express excitement at what you are hearing! However, there really is no need for that. The power of the message is not in the reaction of the crowds. The power of the message is in the Lord of the message. Yes, it would be easier if we could feel the response of the congregation lifting us like those musicians get to feel it, but it’s not necessarily going to happen, and it ought not be necessary. All we are doing when we try for such a forced response from the congregation is exposing our own fears. We are doing nothing for them. We are doing nothing for God. What we are doing in that moment has become all about us and our weaknesses, when the message is all about God and His power to save.
Look to the yeast! Like the Holy Spirit by Whose power we preach and teach, it is invisible once it is in the dough. You can’t point it out. You can’t pick it back out now that it’s in there. You can’t see it working, but like the Holy Spirit in the life of the chosen, like the Living Word you have proclaimed over the congregation, you know it’s there. If it’s there, you know it will do as it was purposed to do. The Word of the Lord does not return to Him without accomplishing all His purpose. If you have been faithful to declare His Word, He will be faithful to see it done.
There is also a societal message to be heard from this brief parable. It is an echo of the remnant motif that runs throughout the pages of Scripture. The remnant permeates the whole.
The Amplified Bible associates the process Jesus is using for His illustration here with sourdough bread in particular. Here, the leaven is in the ‘seed dough’ a bit of the previous batch held over to seed the fermenting process into the new batch. Each baking is made possible by a remnant of the previous, if you will. It doesn’t require much. That small remnant will soon permeate the whole batch of dough.
The remnant permeates the whole. That is the grandest thing to know. For Israel, throughout its history, this message has been key to surviving the hard times. Elijah, we will recall, ministered in a time of overwhelming unbelief and idolatry amongst God’s people. He was all but convinced that he was the last believer standing, but God informed him that HE had preserved a remnant who had not turned from the Way. This was nothing unique to Israel. In the days of Roman persecution, many found it better to renounce their faith than to lose their life. But God preserved a remnant, and that remnant soon permeated the whole, until Christianity had gone from an outlawed cult to being the official religion of the Empire.
Today, amongst those western nations which were once the composition of the Holy Roman Empire, it seems that belief in God has all but vanished. The Moors against whom so much energy was spent in defending those nations are now invited in. Their idolatries and devilries are welcomed and protected in these once-Christian lands even to the hurt of the Christians who remain. Throughout the west, it seems that any faith but the True faith of Christianity is welcomed and protected.
Oh, yes. The darkness is growing darker. As we discussed in home group last week, the seeds of the tare (Mt 13:24-30), black with the poison of sin, are ripening in the fields. But, they are not ripening alone. The wheat is also ripening. They have grown together, and they will meet the harvest together. But, only the wheat will be taken to the barn.
Yes, it’s looking darker out there, even as God told us it would. But, there is a remnant amidst the darkened nation. That remnant, though it be small, will continue. The effect of the remnant will yet permeate the whole.
I hear a lot of folks speaking out against this sense of a Christian purpose and mandate for the country. In fairness, there is something to their concerns. However, there is also something to the mandate. If I look at the record of God’s treatment of Israel, I see that mandate. The mandate was not a guarantee of national security, no matter what. It was only a guarantee of a remnant that would continue the true purpose even through the worst of times for the nation.
Historically, England saw itself as the inheritor of this blessed place as God’s chosen. They, too, fell into a national pride that felt nothing could threaten this place of God’s choosing. That is truly a fall. It is the fall of pride. God chose that land for a purpose, and there is to this day a remnant that holds to that purpose. It’s not about national identity. It’s about heavenly citizenship.
This confusion of church and state in the minds of the believer was nothing new even then. Paul had to deal with it in his churches. Yes, you have this marvelous city. Yes, you have citizenship in the most powerful social structures. But, this is as nothing compared to what really counts. You are first and foremost citizens of the heavenly kingdom. All earthly associations pale in comparison to that. Roman citizenship is nothing without heavenly citizenship. British citizenship is nothing without heavenly citizenship. Now that the banner of “God’s nation” has passed to America, we need to recognize this same basic truth: American citizenship is nothing without heavenly citizenship.
Will a remnant of God’s people preserve the nation? We can hope it will. However, I do not think we can honestly say it is promised to preserve the nation as we know it. Israel is not what it was. England is not what it was. Every empire, every nation on the face of the earth has its time, and its time is determined by God alone. He cannot be expected to honor the rebellious who refuse to serve Him. He cannot be expected to leave those who serve Him faithfully neglected. He is just. I have heard lessons taught on ancient Israel that point to the destruction of the faithful along with the idolaters when God’s wrath came upon that nation. I cannot speak with any authority to that. Were they truly the faithful, or were they ‘foxhole believers’? We cannot possibly know with certainty. What we can know with certainty is that even through those times of wrath, God preserved His remnant, that scrap of dough fermented with the Bread of Life by which He would seed the future of His people. And once more, that remnant would permeate the whole.
If, as seems inevitable, our own nation must undergo a time of wrath, we can lay hold of this truth: A remnant of Truth will be reserved against the future. Though the nation were to be reduced to a shadow of its former self, as seems to happen to any nation that becomes too full of itself, yet there will be a preservation of those who serve the Living King, whose citizenship in His kingdom has never been set aside in favor of the empires of man.
If there is hope of the remnant influencing the whole nation, this parable offers that hope. The seed of British and American missionaries has spread the Bread of Life to just about every tribe and nation on this planet. And, from each tribe and nation, Jesus has drawn out a people for Himself. The yeast has been implanted. Here, I see the promise that it will have its appropriate impact. The whole is leavened. This influence, let me say again, is not a guarantee that the society so influenced will be preserved because of that influence. Such a belief is a return to the idolatrous confidence that God’s people developed first for Shiloh and subsequently for the Temple in Jerusalem. In both cases, God found it necessary to destroy those places that He had established for the blessing of His people because they had made of it a curse.
This is the way of fallen man. However great the blessing which God bestows, our tendency is to make of it something that turns to our detriment. The Law, Paul writes, was a great good for the nation. But sin (our fallen nature) turned it into an occasion for further sin. Having seen the ‘Thou shalt not’, we immediately make the move to find out by experience what that ‘not’ is all about. We see it in our children, often enough. The whole concept of reverse psychology is a gaming of the system by which fallen men normally operate. Forbid the thing you want done, and you can be near to sure it will be done.
It is not far different with the other blessings that God gives us. Even as Pastor was preaching yesterday; the very prosperity that He may pour out into our lives to give us the wherewithal to do great things for the kingdom tends instead to blind us to our citizenship in the kingdom. Our prosperity begins to strike us as having come of our own doing. Our need for God is forgotten, and His hand in bringing about the prosperity we are so proud of is worse than forgotten. We take credit for what He has done. We seek, like Satan before us, to steal His glory and make it our own. The blessing has become an idol, and either we will destroy the idol from our midst, or we can rest assured that He will do it for us.
No, we cannot expect the remnant to be the guarantor of national security. That is not the purpose of the remnant. The remnant can, however be expected to influence the nation. Does this mean we should be wrapped up in political movements, seeking to establish an American theocracy? No. Does it, then, mean we should avoid politics as the Devil’s playground? No. Face it. We are not citizens of any nation whose boundaries lie on this planet. We are citizens of heaven. If we took that citizenship seriously, we should have to consider ourselves disqualified for office, I suppose, being foreigners. However, we are foreigners born on this soil. This is enough, I think, to allow for office. It’s more a question of whether it makes sense for a child of God to be concerned with the politics of the world. This cannot be ruled out, but I don’t think it can be the rule, either.
Consider this about the nature of leaven. Leaven decomposes the bread into which it is put. That is the nature of fermentation. It’s a process of decomposition. It is this aspect of leaven that leads to its being used so often as a symbol for sin and sin’s influence. A little leaven leavens the whole lump (Gal 5:9). A little sin poisons the whole life, and soon enough the whole society. Think back to the battle for Ai (Jos 7). On their first attempt to take that city, the army of Israel, fresh from the destruction of Jericho, was chased off by a weak defense. Why? Because one man in all that army had sinned in taking what God said not to take from that first battle. The fermentation process had begun, and if not dealt with, it would quickly permeate the whole.
Zhodiates tries to convince us that it is still this corrupting influence that Jesus has in sight when He teaches this parable, that we should still see the leaven as representing evil in some fashion. I don’t buy it. To say that the kingdom of heaven is like the kingdom of evil is simply not an equation I can imaging God condoning. Furthermore, we must bear in mind that leaven was not a thing uniformly forbidden in the life of God’s people, nor even from His house. There were specific occasions for which it was demanded that leaven be absent, but there were other occasions where it was not only allowed, but even encouraged. I think we must recognize that this association of leaven and sin is not absolute and unchangeable.
What we are looking at in the parable is the scale of the effect. There is also the suggestion of that decomposing impact of the effect. Fermentation decomposes the dough; changes that dough into something new and different, if you will. So, too, the fermentation of grapes. Wine is, in its fashion, something new and different than the grape juice from which it springs. Here, we are at the core of the impact of the Gospel on society. The Gospel, as one article put it, decomposes the social elements. Are we saying the Gospel is anarchical? In a way, I suppose so, but not in any real sense.
It is not an anarchy. It is a recreation, a remaking and reshaping of societal norms. Even as the Gospel, on a personal level, begins the process of renewing our thoughts and behaviors, so it is on the societal level. Look back across history and see what has happened when once the Gospel began to take hold in a place. Look at Corinth, a city notorious for loose morals where there were any morals at all. When the Gospel took hold, those in whose hearts it had taken root set aside the way of life they had been raised in. They stood out. They were examples of something new, something better. It took time, but the influence of their example spread.
Perhaps a better example would be to look at the Welsh revival. Or, we could look to Scotland’s history: rising out of paganism to become one of the foundational regions for learning the doctrines of God. Where did it start? How did it happen? One man, with the seed of God growing in his heart. As it grew, its influence spread beyond the salvation of that one man to touch the lives of those he contacted. It may have taken centuries to complete its effect, but complete its effect it did.
Look, for that matter, to the American revival that we call the Great Awakening. Out there in western Massachusetts, one man began to speak the Truth. He didn’t dress it up with fancy oratorical methods and flowery speech. He didn’t water it down to make it more palatable to his listeners. There was no showmanship at all, just the simple preaching of the Gospel message, the exposition of heaven and hell, the blessing and the cursing, the exposing of man’s nature and his need for God’s proffered salvation.
Better still, since we have had it brought back to our attention of late, look to Mr. Wilburforce and what his faith achieved in what was at the time the most powerful of nations. Here, I believe, is a balance point for our political involvement, as well. He was a man unclear as to whether his faith and his position could properly be mixed, but he was a man there ‘for such a time as this’. Against all odds, and at risk of his own health, he stood firm in the belief that the slavery that was accepted as practically God-ordained in his time was a deadly stain on the soul of his nation.
We could equate this with those who focus their efforts on bringing an end to the deadly stain on our own nation’s soul in this day and age. There are plenty of solidly grounded people of faith, men and women, adults and children, who are standing up and proclaiming the horrible injustice that is abortion. They will decry this vicious aberration at every chance. They will do whatever is within their legal power to wake up the society around them to what has become of them. It may seem futile, but let us, in the face of such hopelessness, recall those who have stood up before us. The efforts of Mr. Wilburforce were just as futile. The power of the major corporations and their government representatives were arrayed against him. But, he had this going for him: God was with him, and if God was with him, who could stand against him?
He may have been an eloquent and impassioned speaker, but it was neither eloquence nor passion that swayed the hearts and minds of a nation. It was the leaven of the Gospel Truth, which was decomposing the social elements of that day and age, transforming them into something new, something better.
Oh God! Let us see such a transformation of society in our own time! You have not changed. You have not grown weak and weary. You have not abandoned Your children to the fire, but You continue to walk with us even as You promised. The pillar of Your glory continues to lead us and guard us, and we pray, my God, that the seemingly little influence we have would spread like the leaven of this parable, would grow like the mustard tree, to become a place where You can come and abide, and by your abiding presence, transform the world in which we walk. Indeed, Lord! Let Your kingdom come and Your will be done, right here in Lowell, even as it is done this day in heaven.
Having explored the application, I still have a curiosity as to why Jesus speaks specifically of there being three measures of meal. Is there more to that than a simple painting of the picture He wishes to paint? The article on leaven did not find any. There, this was taken as simply being the quantity of dough one would normally prepare for baking. This may well be the case, but it doesn’t answer the question for me. After all, Jesus seems to be quite good at presenting His message in images that anybody willing to consider them can understand. The tares and the wheat were matters familiar to all. The mustard tree in the garden was something everybody would have seen at some point. But, the measure of dough required for a baking? Was this as common a concept? Perhaps it was.
One thing that hints at a greater significance to this particular quantity is that we find Abraham telling Sarah to prepare that same amount when making bread for his guests (Ge 18:6). It seems reasonably certain that Abraham understood the nature (or supernature) of his guests by that point, and was seeking to honor them as they deserved. Likewise, when Gideon had his visitation, he prepared an ephah of unleavened bread along with the kid goat (Jdg 6:19). A quick look at the BDB indicates that an ephah is equivalent to those three measures that Abraham prepared. Now, if I look for those three measures, it seems I only find them in that one reference to Abraham’s preparations. There are indeed other references to this measure, but in differing quantities; one or two in relaying the warning to Israel (2Ki 7:1-18), five when Abigail sought to calm David’s anger against her husband Nabal (1Sa 25:18).
However, when I look at the ephah, many more references are to be found. Here, we find some interesting matter. Ruth, when she went out to glean the fields, came home with an ephah of barley (Ru 2:17). Hannah included an ephah of flour in her offering for Samuel at his dedication (1Sa 1:24). In several places, God’s demand for a just ephah can be found (Dt 25:14-15, Pr 20:10, Eze 45:10-13, Amos 8:5, Mic 6:10). One thing that comes across in all this is that God is particularly concerned that the ephah be an honest and just measure. He is angered by His people when they seek to put their thumb on the scale as we would say. In their case, it would be a matter of reducing the volume of their measure, such that the ephah of wheat measured out would be somewhat less than it ought to be. Often, this is combined with the ideas that their measure for the gold that came in payment would likewise be tilted in their favor, slightly undervaluing the weight.
My, how God hates this behavior amongst His children! It seems that He chooses the ephah in particular to make this point. This is perhaps because the ephah was the measure by which other measures were fixed. The measure of dough we find Jesus referring to was defined as one third of an ephah. Other measures were fixed at one sixth or one tenth of an ephah. But, always, there seems to be a reference back to the ephah as the standard. Here we have an image for our lives. All of our habits, all of our character traits, all our ways are referenced back to the Standard. The Standard measure for life is the Law of God. So many think that this has passed away with the arrival of the New Covenant, but that is not the case. The Law of God remains the Standard. It is still against His Law that we are measured, not against each other. Jesus Messiah came not to abolish the Law, but to fulfill all its requirements. He fulfilled them in His own obedience. He fulfilled them on our behalf in His death. He took upon Himself the curse of the Law that was our due for our disobedience, and thereby fulfilled the penal aspect of the Law to God’s just satisfaction.
God is Just. Let us never forget this. He is Good, He is Mercy, but He is simultaneously and incorruptibly Just. He establishes the measure of the man, and He will not tolerate the man who corrupts the measure. This seems to clarify something about the ephah for me. If leaven is so often the image of sin and sin’s impact, it seems the ephah is the image of righteous and just behavior towards one’s fellow man.
Does that carry over into the three measures? Perhaps not directly. Again, it is the ephah specifically that is mentioned whenever the focus is upon the justness of the measure. The lesser ce’ah which is the third part of an ephah is only present for this one scene from Abraham’s life. To fully grasp its somewhat different import, I think we need to better understand the significance of three. Three is the number of the Trinity, of course, but this would be little considered in the Jewish mind. Three is, however, the emphatic number, the superlative degree. When the point is being made to the uttermost, it is repeated thrice. When the angels declare the holiness of God, they declare it thrice, for there is nothing which can be more holy than He. He is the epitome of holiness, as He is the epitome of all His many wondrous qualities. We could as well declare Him Loving, Loving, Loving and Wise, Wise, Wise. Yes, and He is Just, Just, Just as well. Choose any aspect of His character, and know that like His holiness, it is raised to the uttermost perfection.
It is likely because of the superlative and emphatic usage of this value of three that it takes on a sense of divinity, as Fausset’s indicates. Whether or not Israel could accept the Triune nature of her God, they still had this association of three with the divine perfection of God. So, we might ask, for instance, why it is that Abraham specified three measures instead of simply calling for an ephah, when he had Sarah prepare the meal. However, whatever significance we might read into that particular request, we must then ask why Gideon’s story is not related in terms of the triple measure. One thing that I might suggest is this: Abraham had come to an understanding as to who his visitors were, and Whom they represented. Sarah did not grasp this as yet. Is it possible that by specifically calling for three measures Abraham was trying to signal to his wife that this was more than a meal for guests, but was truly a sacrifice to the Almighty?
If I take that position, and carry it into what Jesus is declaring is there anything added to the picture He paints? It would be a stretch to find something about that measure of dough that was of a superlative or emphatic nature. Further, this would seem to distract from the clear point of the story. It is not about how great the dough is, it’s about what happens with just a bit of leaven added, just as with us, it’s not about how great we are, but what has happened when just a bit of the kingdom is added. I suppose it would even be a stretch to think that Jesus was trying to put the people in mind of Abraham. After all, it’s not as though He was expecting everybody to turn to their concordance and start pouring over what He just said, searching for cross references in the Torah. I suppose I shall have to leave this track of thinking aside. If there is something which the three measures add to the parable besides being the commonly understood amount of dough for baking, I don’t see it, however interesting the side trip has been. If it is there, it shall have to be left to God to bring it to light at some other point.
