New Thoughts (08/05/11-08/016/11)
I have claimed a doctrinal point from these few verses that deserves a bit of explanation. The point itself is sufficiently clear and accurate: Jesus is the knowledge of the kingdom expressed. In John’s parlance, He is the Logos. The accuracy of the point is sufficiently established by other passages. However, as I am the first to complain when a doctrinal claim is made based upon a passage that does not properly bear upon the claim, it strikes me that I need to explain how I arrive at seeing this point made in these verses. There is not anything overt or direct said on the matter. Jesus makes no reference to Himself whatsoever.
My reasoning is thus: When we study the Ten Commandments, or the Law more generally, we are given to understand that wherever the Lord requires us to eschew one thing, He is simultaneously enjoining on us the necessity of actively pursuing the opposite. When He commands us not to murder, as Pastor Ed preached last Sunday, He is simultaneously commanding us to actively seek to impart life. In a similar vein, what the Prophet pronounces His woes upon must surely be matters in violation of the Law. Legitimate woes can be pronounced for no other cause. So, then, if the things He denounces are violations of Law, then their opposite is the thing actively promoted by Law. As Jesus is held out to us as the perfectly obedient One, fulfilling the Law in every respect, then it is insufficient to look at how He avoids doing what is forbidden. His obedience must necessarily include active pursuit of what is enjoined.
For this particular point of mine, I am leaning more upon Luke’s text: “You have taken away the key of knowledge.” You have assumed the authority to impart or not to impart of that knowledge. But, in reality, you have neither obtained that knowledge yourself such that you might impart it, nor will you suffer anybody else to learn what you refuse to know. You are a roadblock, an impassible obstruction on the road to Truth. Jesus, by contrast, is the Way, the Truth and the Life (Jn 14:6). He is the very road upon which these men are obstructing passage. He is the point to which that road leads. James advises us, “if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him” (Jas 1:5). What a contrast! On the one hand, those who would refuse you knowledge of the Truth that leads to Life, on the other hand He who generously gives to all who ask it.
So, then, we can support the idea that Jesus at least acts in a fashion opposite to what these men do. Is that sufficient to allow the claim that these verses teach us that Jesus is the knowledge of the kingdom expressed? For that, let me consider the second half of the verse. There, He points out that “you did not enter in yourselves.” The implication is that He did. He then says, “you hindered those who were trying to enter, would not allow it.” The implication is that He does the opposite, helping those who are seeking to enter, not only allowing it, but doing His best to make it easier.
What means of making it easier could surpass that of pursuing the role of teacher, the which Jesus surely has been doing throughout His ministry? To teach is to disciple. That is why students are referred to as disciples. How does one disciple? While it may involve a certain amount of didactic teaching, as by lecture, we all know that the greater lessons are taught by example. The primary teaching tool of the Discipler is to live out what He would have His disciples live out. A disciple, after all, is one who as found in his teacher a lifestyle worthy of emulation and internalization. That being the case, I think it is acceptable to argue that these verses put forth Jesus as the express knowledge of the kingdom of God, however indirectly.
This is not the end of the contrast, though. As I started to lay out my point, I found myself sorely desirous of taking a side journey, but I managed to divert it to this paragraph. The opening charge here is that they took away the key of knowledge. They appropriated the key for themselves, took possession of it and assumed the authority to control access by its means. Consider how this compares to the bold statement of Christ to His disciples: “I will give you the keys of the kingdom! What you bind on earth, it shall be bound in heaven. What you loose on earth, it shall be loosed in heaven” (Mt 16:19). I’m not interested in getting into a careful dissection of binding and loosing here. I’m interested in the stark contrast as to how the keys and the authority represented therein are handled.
The lawyers take the authority of knowledge as a means to personal power. This is in effect the root problem with legalism in all its forms. It is not merely that the legalist becomes hypocritical in thinking his adherence to his own rules makes him righteous. It’s that he will most assuredly impose these rules on others to the degree he is able. He will make himself the arbiter of righteousness. Indeed, the greater and resounding charge against the lawyers and the Pharisees is that of hypocrisy. They impose on others, but, they will not impose those rules on themselves (Mt 23:4). The knowledge, however theoretical or inaccurate it may prove to be, is not used to promote the wellbeing of self and of others, but rather to control. It is a power play. If they cannot get their self-aggrandizement by adhering to their petty rules, they will get it through demanding that others do so.
I am put in mind of the events of the Reformation period in Church history. Once again, there were those who constituted the officialdom of religious order, and once again they proved to be far more interested in their own power and political position than in the spiritual well-being of those they purported to shepherd. I was reading of Tyndale’s history last night, and it was noted how very few amongst the official clergy in England at the time could even read the Scriptures, let alone impart knowledge of them to their charges. Yet, they would go to any lengths to preserve their power and privilege as clergy, even to the point of burning at the stake those who would seek to make the text of Holy Scripture legible and available to the common man.
What a stark contrast to the way of Christ! “I will give you the keys.” I want you to know. I want you as fully aware of the kingdom economy and order as you can possibly be, and I want to empower you to live in fullest accord with the kingdom’s ways. I want you to be true and responsible citizens of My kingdom. That’s the message from on high. That’s the whole ministry of Christ in a nutshell. Repent, for the kingdom is at hand! Well, to repent, I must have the knowledge to know not only what I’m doing wrong, but how to go about doing what is right. Jesus did everything in His power to ensure that not only the Twelve would have that knowledge available, but that all who would ask could have it freely given.
There is something in the differences between Matthew’s account and Luke’s that I would take note of. I do so not because it demonstrates some sort of inconsistency, but because the two versions taken together serve to make plain a certain correlation or congruity of concept. Luke talks of the key of knowledge. Matthew talks of entering the kingdom of heaven. These two are integrally related. If God is Truth, and all Truth is God’s Truth, then knowledge of that Truth is bound to be a necessary component of citizenship in His kingdom, don’t you think? Indeed, one could reasonably argue that given those premises, knowledge of the Truth is knowledge of God.
Now, look again at the charges: “You did not enter into knowledge, you do not enter into the kingdom.” That entering in is potentially to be understood as becoming part of. Certainly, in reference to the kingdom, that’s a reasonable understanding. You do not become part of the society of heaven. It would be tempting to try and make Luke’s statement mean that you did not allow knowledge to enter into yourselves, but I don’t think the syntax will allow it. More reasonably, it suggests an unwillingness to seek knowledge. For my own part, I have paraphrased it as, “you have never allowed yourselves to gain knowledge.” There is, after all, a willfulness expressed here. You had the keys but absolutely refused to use them. One can argue as to whether they had the keys legitimately or not, but the fact remains that they had them. But, they took that possession as a thing to be horded.
It would be sorely tempting to see a certain parallel to The Lord of the Rings here. Given the keys to power, what was the result? They scurried into their spiritual darkness, carefully hiding those keys from sight, muttering to themselves about, ‘my precious’. This was perhaps the greatest aspect of Israel’s crimes against their God. They who were set in place to make His name known instead sought to fence Him off from every other culture but their own, to preserve Him jealously as theirs and theirs alone. In this light, one could argue that the charge laid against the lawyers is a charge laid against the nation as a whole. I dare say that if we think this a thing unique to the Israelites, we fail to look at ourselves with sufficient care. We are, after all, forever repeating the same mistakes. For all that we have the whole of Scripture written to serve as instructive warning to us as we live nearer the end times, even so we remain inclined to repeat every error. We can become very insular in our faith. We not only allow the culture around us to keep us on our spiritual reservation, we actually kind of like it that way. It’s less stressful if we compartmentalize.
What was overturned by Christ, what was overturned again by the Reformation; these are things that arise again and again in the life of the family of God. It will happen again whenever His people take their eyes off of the kingdom. It will happen again whenever we are so incautious as to allow our personal comfort and position to matter more to us than the glory of God. It will happen again whenever we become so focused on the community of faith that we no longer take notice of the lost and dying all around us. The Church of Inward Focus is a church that is appropriating the keys to itself, refusing to use them and refusing them to any who would. It is not that there is no place for introspection in the Christian life. Indeed, it’s a necessity (and a large part of what happens in these studies of mine!) But, if introspection is not producing growth, is not producing a desire to see the lost found, the darkness lifted, then introspection has become a distraction at best, a cancer at worst.
“I give you the keys,” Jesus says. What will you do with them? Those who first had hold of those keys changed an empire! Those who rediscovered those keys down through the ages likewise impacted their world in such ways as reverberate still today. These were men who would rather die than see the work of God stymied, would rather die than leave the lost and dying world to its own devices. These were men who believed the Truth, who saw the keys in their hands and determined to do their utmost to set the captives free, even as their Brother and Teacher would have them to do. They appropriated the authority, but not for personal gain, rather for the purpose of administering from that authority for the benefit of all. They saw the Servant King and became His servants themselves, to the great gain of mankind.
It is well and good to thrill to the exploits of great men, particularly great men of God. But, eventually, we must cease from looking outward, and take our own measure. If looking at these men leads to no more than a nod of approval and perhaps a token thought of appreciation for their efforts, then we are seeing them no differently than we do our sports heroes, or any other celebrity that might gain our attention. Their efforts really ought to mean something more to us. If we honor those who go to war on our behalf, then these men ought to be honored even more, for they went to war on our spiritual behalf. To the best of their ability, and even beyond their ability, they fought the good fight, sacrificing their livelihoods, their health and even their life in order that those they served might draw nearer to the God of life.
What is this to me? It ought to be strong incentive. It ought to be a call to come up higher. It ought to be demonstration of what it means to live as a godly man. I fear that it may not be so. I am contrasting what I see in them with what I see in these Pharisees that Jesus berates, and in contrasting the two I cannot but wonder which I more nearly approximate in my own behavior.
I also read these words from Malachi, which serve to make clear (if it were not so already) that the problem is one of long standing. “The lips of a priest ought to maintain knowledge. Men should seek instruction from him, for he is the Lord’s messenger. But, you! You have turned from the way. You cause so many to stumble by your instruction. You have corrupted the covenant of Levi” (Mal 2:7-8)! Think about that. We are called a chosen race, a royal priesthood and a holy nation of God’s own possession (1Pe 2:9). In short, what is said of the priest is something that is said of every one of us. We ought to maintain knowledge.
Remember what I was saying about the understanding of Law; how what is rejected implies that its opposite is enjoined? Here’s the opposite side of what Jesus has been saying in this verse. If the scribes, the lawyers, are condemned for locking knowledge away from access, we are supposed to maintain that knowledge, give it out as instruction to those who seek it. This is not just the call for the pastor or for the elder. It is the call for every last one of us. I could argue that this applies in greater degree to the man, as being head of the household. Some would find cause for offense in that suggestion. Too bad. God sets the order and however much I might prefer to duck out on my responsibilities in this regard, it is not granted me to do so. And, believe me, the honor of being head of household is not generally worth the weight of responsibility that comes with it. Those who are jealous of the role ought rather to be glad that they have not the burden of it to bear.
That said, even those who are not head of household bear the title of priest, or priestess I suppose. There is nothing restrictive in Peter’s words. It is an all-inclusive ‘you’, taking in the whole of the community of faith, so long as we are discussing faith in Christ. That I should even feel the need for such explanation! You are a royal priest of a holy nation chosen for God’s own possession. I am a royal priest of a holy nation chosen for God’s own possession. Don’t get caught up on that royal business. The point is not that you and I are royalty. Perish the thought! That’s just the puffery of pride trying to slip back in. No, the point is that we are priests assigned to the royal court. We have no king but Jesus, and as servants in the house of God, we ought have no need for higher title.
What I am driving at, or driving around, is that what Malachi relates to us of the priestly obligation is an obligation we all need to take to heart. We are each one of us to be imparters of knowledge of the kingdom of heaven. We are all of us able to instruct in the ways of the kingdom if indeed we are citizens of the kingdom. More than being able, we are enjoined to do so, required to do so. It is our great commission, isn’t it? “Go and make disciples” (Mt 28:19). Instruct! Demonstrate the way in yourself and help those who would emulate your success in so doing. Don’t just give a passing mention of God and walk away. Don’t just lead them in the so-called sinner’s prayer and think your work here is done. Disciple! Instruct! Impart wisdom, you who have laid hold of eternity.
Now, I must needs look to the flip side of Malachi’s words. “But you cause many to stumble by your instruction.” Clearly this could be applied to those who teach a gospel foreign to the Scriptures. Clearly, where we see denominations promoting things most thoroughly ungodly and attempting to claim these as righteous, we are seeing those priests Malachi writes of. But, that remains the outward, not me, viewpoint. It is a function of looking only at the most egregious violations in an attempt to ignore the many similar violations in my own flesh.
Actions, the maxim goes, speak louder than words. This is certainly the case for discipleship. The Teacher whose life does not reflect his own teaching is a teacher unlikely to have many disciples, and undeserving even of those he may have. I could bring up numerous examples from current events, those who insist everybody else should live thus and so whilst they themselves live a life wholly opposite those very instructions. But, these are well enough known, I should think, and serve only to distract me once more from myself. What of my own actions, my own example?
Let me drive straight at the heart of the issue. I am father to my daughter. I am also, like it or not, priest to my daughter. It is not a role of my choosing. It is a matter of being appointed thus. Were I to sit as impassive judge over my record in that position, what should I think of my job performance? Would I vote for me again? Would I recommend myself for hire in a similar position? I should think not. Certainly, I would have to admit that my instruction, such as I may impart by word, rarely makes reference to the Word, even if (and I hope this much holds) I am seeking to impart wisdom that is in accordance with the Word. Perhaps that is not so great a crime. Or, perhaps it is being ashamed of the Gospel. I could explain my reasons, but are they reasons or merely justifications?
If I were to measure by my example, I think I should fair that much the worse. Do I live a Christian life before her? In many ways, I suppose I could say that yes, I do. I am faithful to my wife. I do those churchy things. But, is that a Christian life? I am up early in the morning for these times of study. But, is this the Christian life? Certainly not in exclusion of other things. These are outward forms. If this is all there is to my faith, then I am most assuredly in deep trouble, as far off course as ever the Pharisees were.
Does she see the ways in which my faith may inform my daily choices? Is there any faith there to be seen? I should have to say that at best it’s a 50/50 sort of proposition. And when she comes for advice: do I give her wisdom from God, or merely dad’s experience? Do I counsel as God would counsel, or do I just say whatever sounds good to me? Am I imparting wisdom or setting out stumbling blocks? I can tell you straight up that my record is not purely one way or the other. I can think of one particular event in recent weeks which, had I the spiritual backbone I ought, would have gone entirely different. Did she see a man of God on that occasion? No. She saw a spineless liar, and well did she know it.
And yet she seeks my approval. She asks for my blessing on her choices, as it were, even when she knows full well that her choices are anathema to me. What is that all about? It’s very simple, really. In spite of the degree to which she seeks to be free of God’s oversight, she knows she is His. She knows it, but she rebels against it. Yet, at the same time, she knows how He has set up His economy, His governance. She knows, whether intuitively or whether by sound instruction, that for this season of her life, her father is her spiritual covering. So, she seeks his cover, most especially when she knows her choices are unwise and almost assuredly sinful. Please, dad, tell me it’s ok if I sin. How can I? How can I give any answer that even hints at granting such a request? Yet, I know that in my weakness I have done just that. I have acted as Eli acted, trying hard not to see the corruption, trying to excuse myself from responsibility, and hating anything and everything that seeks to bring me to recognize that failure.
God, You well know that these recent matters have been a poison in my veins, a moral failure on my part, and a sin against You. I know it, too. Help me. Forgive me, my Lord, I pray. But, more than that, so much more! I am brought to despair, knowing myself so weak of will, so thin of character, for all that I have seen growth by Your hand over the years. Still, I am such a wreck of a being. I am so very much in need of You. I need You to come, to will and to work in me according to Your word. I need, my Lord, to be less about me and my comfort. I long to be a representative such as those I have been considering of late and yet I simply do not see it in me to do so. If I am to be a man of God, it shall only be because You have made me so, because You have remodeled this poor man to Your liking, and I beg of You to do exactly that. If I must needs be a fool for You, Lord, then grant me to be so willingly. If I have been rejecting Your purpose for me because I did not care for the format You chose, forgive me this as well, and grant that I might come to have the moral fortitude to stand with You gladly, whatever Your call. I am brought exceeding low, these days, Holy Father. This You well know, and I know that. I can but lay myself upon Your mercy, ask that You would lift me once more, restore me to such place as You would have me. Great is Thy faithfulness, O God, my Father. Thank You for that. Indeed, I am counting on that. Come then, in Your faithfulness and let this day bring a fresh start, a new commitment, a resolve greater than I find in myself even now. I know well that I shall not find in myself any power to change, but in You, the impossibility of that change does not apply! So, I lean the more upon You, my King! Hosanna, in the truest sense of the word! Come save.
