Gnostic America

     Now as He was going out on the road, one came running, knelt before Him, and asked Him, “Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?”
     So Jesus said to him, “Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is, God. You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery,’ ‘Do not murder,’ ‘Do not steal,’ ‘Do not bear false witness,’ ‘Do not defraud,’ ‘Honor your father and your mother.’ ”
     And he answered and said to Him, “Teacher, all these things I have kept from my youth.”
     Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “One thing you lack: Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.”
     But he was sad at this word, and went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions. Then Jesus looked around and said to His disciples, “How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!”
     And the disciples were astonished at His words. But Jesus answered again and said to them, “Children, how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”
     And they were greatly astonished, saying among themselves, “Who then can be saved?”
     But Jesus looked at them and said, “With men it is impossible, but not with God; for with God all things are possible.”

This Gospel is like a ping-pong match between two extremes with interesting bookends.

It begins with a man acknowledging Jesus as a respected teacher and the source of ultimate truth, that is, one who has information on how to gain eternal life. He kneels before Him. He calls Him “Good Teacher.” This sets up the first bookend, but sadly not for the man’s benefit, but for ours.

Jesus eludes to the path He’s going to take us on when He asks the man, “Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is God.” In other words, “Do you realize you’re calling Me God?”

In any event, here we begin the one extreme of the ping-pong match. That extreme is: “Gaining eternal life is not in your power. That’s why you’re asking me, God, about it, because only God has the answer. And no one is good, no, not one. So, eternal life must be all God’s work.”

Then Jesus goes to the other extreme, which is: “Eternal life is in fact in your capacity. Just follow the Ten Commandments.” Jesus has spoken this way in other places. It is a truth, follow the Ten Commandments and you will have life. Yet, evidently not hearing what Jesus just said about “No one is good,” the man proceeds to say how he has kept all the commandments since his youth.

To which Jesus adds more. “One thing you lack: Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.” So, again, apparently it is within our capabilities to gain eternal life on our own, if we just follow the Ten Commandments, sell everything we have, give to the poor, take up the cross, and follow Jesus. Sign us all up!

When the rich man goes away saddened, Jesus explains that this man wasn’t suitable for heaven, because he was too bound to his riches. “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Jesus issues a stinging judgment that all but closes the door of salvation to this man, this man whom He loved, by the way (for all the “A loving God wouldn’t keep someone from heaven” folks).

So, at this point we’re at the far end of the extreme in our ping-pong match. Gaining eternal life is in our capabilities, if we keep the Ten Commandments, and do as Jesus told the rich man, give up everything, give to the poor, and follow Him. Now things swing the other direction.

The disciples are astonished, realizing by Jesus’ standards, no one can be saved. Jesus has just barred heaven for everyone. If someone who keeps the Ten Commandments can’t make it, and only those who do that, and give up everything to follow Jesus, then effectively, no one is saved. And at this point Jesus adds the other bookend which parallels what He began with. No human can do this, but all things are possible with God. God can do it.

Clearly Jesus is teaching the incarnation here. By asking the man, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone,” He’s suggesting something about Himself that the rich man inadvertently recognized. Jesus is the only one Who is good, because He is God. That suggests that insofar as inheriting eternal life has to do with being good, the rich man could have recognized that the answer to his question was standing right before him.

And in fact that’s where Jesus’ discussion takes the rich man. The path to “tapping in” to the one standing before him was to give up everything, give to the poor, take up the cross, and follow Jesus. That indeed is the baptismal path, something we’ll probe more into this week. But for now, we can settle with the truth that doing this is impossible for man, but not God.

Yet, Jesus is God and man. That’s why He in fact did all these things. It was possible for Him to do these things. He did give up everything. He did give to the poor. He did take up the cross. And He did “follow” Himself, because He is Himself. But more sublimely we might say He followed the path of death and resurrection, the path laid out for Him by the Father.

What man cannot do, Jesus does, because He is not just a man, but God.

At this point, many will wipe off their brows and say, “Well that’s good. For a moment there I thought Jesus was serious, like we actually had to give up everything, give to the poor, take up the cross, and follow Him perfectly, when no one can do that.”

Here’s what’s wrong with that way of thinking. The rich man still went away, barred from heaven. So, whatever point Jesus was making, it wasn’t, “The rich man couldn’t have done it anyways; nor can you.” Rather, it’s, “The rich man could have done something, and in fact, you have done something which is right and good.”

As to that last point, let’s look at what comes after this Gospel:

Then Peter began to say to Him, “See, we have left all and followed You.” So Jesus answered and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands, for My sake and the gospel’s, who shall not receive a hundredfold now in this time – houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions – and in the age to come, eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”

The ping-pong match continues! “Yes, Peter, you did do what was right, and how great you shall be rewarded.” And then, lest we side with the “we have the capability” extreme, Jesus ends with, “But many who are first will be last.” Whoa, so maybe Peter will be the last, and a weak Christian who sneaks in will be first? That would highlight God’s grace again.

There’s a lot of tension in this Gospel interwoven with a lot of grace. Kind of like good Law and Gospel preaching, no?

Now when the multitudes saw it, they marveled and glorified God, who had given such power [authority] to men.

One of the thematic threads weaving through Matthew’s narrative so far has been that of authority. After Jesus finished preaching the sermon on the mount, the people concluded that Jesus “taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.” Jesus spoke from His own authority, not like the scribes did. Scribes always deferred to tradition, to a previous rabbi, and ultimately to Moses. Jesus taught in a new way, saying, “You have heard it has been said, but I say unto you.” There’s no deferral going on at all. Because Jesus had an authority from God.

Then, in Matthew 8-9, we have this wonderful segment where we wonder how Jesus will use this great authority, and what exactly the nature of this authority is. In short…

(1) Yes, He is willing to use this authority to cleanse the unclean; and then we see Him heal all manner of diseases and sicknesses.
(2) His authority is conveyed by His Word, as the centurion discerned. Jesus rules over certain enemies as a centurion gives command to those under him.
(3) Jesus uses this authority as the Christ, as Israel’s champion, to rule over our enemies. What enemies? By the end of the two chapters, we see that Jesus rules over sin, death (the raising of the little girl), and the power of the devil.
(4) We are beginning to get hints (particularly in His calming of the storm) that Jesus has an authority that only God has. “What can this be who can still the storm?” they wonder. The suggested answer is, God. Hence the reason they worshiped Him.
(5) In our Gospel for this week, Jesus demonstrates He has (a) divine knowledge of hidden cosmic truth, that all sins are forgiven in lieu of His death, and (b) He has authority to give absolution that only God can give, because look, He can cause the lame to walk.

This is all wonderful. Jesus is God in flesh and is present among us to do great things. But in this week’s Gospel, something new is introduced.

If Jesus, a mere man, has this divine authority to forgive sins, demonstrating it at the above mentioned two levels, through divine knowledge (omniscience) and divine power (omnipotence), there is a suggestion that man as such has that same authority. Were Jesus merely God, appearing as a human (as the Gnostics believed), such a conclusion could not occur. Jesus has nothing to do with humanity, not really being of our flesh and of our bones. But Jesus is “one of us,” therefore the possibility exists that not only Jesus, but other people could have His same authority.

And indeed, what do the people conclude? Why do they glorify God? Because God had given the authority to forgive sins to “men.” Not just one man, Jesus, but to “men.” What does this mean? We won’t find out exactly what that means until Matthew 10, when Jesus sends out the twelve disciples and “gave them power [authority] over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all kinds of sickness and all kinds of disease.”

Whatever authority Jesus, the man, had been given on account of His divinity, to heal, to cast out demons, to rule over sin, death, and the devil (though the power to rule over sin by absolution wasn’t specifically given in Matthew 10, but will in Matthew 16 and 18), He “gave” to His twelve disciples. Yes! Such authority is “give-able,” as the people rightly recognized.

In Matthew 10 we get further instructions on how to use this gift. “Freely you have received, freely give.” Jesus replicates this thought later in Matthew 16 and 18 when He grants them authority (the keys) to forgive sins and gives them the parable of the unmerciful servant: forgive seventy times seven times!

This is truly a cause for rejoicing, for “glorifying God” as the people did in our Gospel for this week, is it not? Of course, this is the whole purpose for which Jesus came, indeed why His name was Jesus and Immanuel! “God with us…will save His people from their sins.” Or put in the language of our Gospel, Jesus claims an authority only God has, because He is God with us, and He demonstrates it by healing the lame, and He uses that authority – generously! – to forgive sins, so that nothing will keep us out of fellowship with our Lord any longer.

Not only this, but He passes on this authority to “men.” If Jesus demonstrated omniscience by knowing cosmic truths about the lame man’s forgiven status, in lieu of Christ’s death, and if Jesus demonstrated omnipotence by healing the lame man, thereby revealing He is God and therefore able to forgive sins, then the authority passed on to “men” sort of works out His omnipresence. This is how the Church and its ministry of absolution fills the whole world, for as the Psalm says and St. Paul applies to the ministry, “There is no speech nor language Where their voice is not heard. Their line has gone out through all the earth, And their words to the end of the world.”

Again, this is a reason to glorify God. And what happens shortly after the absolution in the divine liturgy? Introit followed by “Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.” And then what follows shortly after that? We join the angels who sing, “Glory be to God on high.”

How are we not the same as the people in the Gospel, glorifying God who has given authority to “men” to forgive sins, namely, the man who forgives our sins in the divine liturgy? Here we see once again that the liturgy is nothing more than our participation in the Gospel. It’s like a fifth Gospel, or better yet, it’s how the two-dimensional Gospels – potentially only a story about stuff that happened two thousand years ago – becomes three-dimensional, filled with our own flesh and blood, as we in our time take part in the ancient account, or perhaps better put, the ancient account paints the backdrop for the current reality of Jesus’ work in our time and in our place, with us in it. We join “all the company of heaven,” including the people in the text, the lame man, the blind men, the young girl, and all the throng.

The liturgy is our role in the Gospel. It’s our portal into the very account itself.

But that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins” – then He said to the paralytic, “Arise, take up your bed, and go to your house.” And he arose and departed to his house.

When Jesus first brought up forgiveness for this man, He said, “Son, be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.” Notice the language. It’s passive in nature: “your sins are forgiven you.” As we’ve been contemplating, Jesus is declaring an cosmic truth true for all people, but here made specific for this individual. It is true: all sins are forgiven, because Jesus died on the cross for all sins and declares “every sin will be forgiven (but the sin against the Holy Spirit).” Therefore it is true for this man: “Your sins are forgiven you.” Jesus, being eternal, knows this cosmic truth, and so can give “insider” information about this truth which has been hidden from the beginning of time.

In that sense, anyone can declare that same thing. If anyone says to anyone, “Your sins are forgiven you,” that is not wrong. But, an interesting question is, is this an absolution?

An absolution is a bit different than what Jesus said at first. An absolution is not simply a declaration that someone’s sins are forgiven. An absolution is someone standing in God’s place and saying, “I forgive you your sins.” Our passage for today lifts what at first was a declaration to an absolution. Jesus says, “that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins.” The Son of Man can indeed say, “I forgive you your sins.” That’s an absolution, and Jesus claims that authority.

A declaration is something granted to any man based on the cosmic truth of the forgiveness of all people. Jesus assumed the right to say these words, as a man, because, well, because by His divinity He had this insider information on this cosmic truth. But now, He claims the authority to personally forgive sins because, well, because He’s about to prove that He’s not just a man, but God Himself. And that’s when He uses His divine power to heal the man. This lays the groundwork for Jesus’ mandate to the apostles, “If you forgive anyone their sins, they are forgiven them.” As men are ordained to do so, they stand in Christ’s stead and by His command to forgive sins.

This passage is an interesting contemplation of the incarnation, given the language Jesus uses regarding His authority to forgive sins. If at first the scribes thought He blasphemed for declaring the man’s sins forgiven – declaring something only God could truly know – He ups the ante a bit, and demonstrates He has the power Himself to forgive sins, because He is God.

That’s all interesting, but we’re left with some questions. What’s the real difference between being told “Your sins are forgive you” vs. “I forgive you your sins”? In Jesus’ mind, in this context, especially given Who He is, the two statements are the same.

But what about in the context of regular old Christians. Is there a difference between me going to my friend Joe with a wounded soul and him saying, “Hey, your sins are forgiven you,” vs. me going to my father confessor and pastor, and hearing Him say, “I forgive you your sins”?

In a sense, there is no real difference. Jesus’ forgiveness for all sins is absolute. But going from absolute cosmic truths to specific truths for individuals is where pastoral care comes in, and so there is some difference. The pastor can warn a sinner if his repentance is lacking, or he can work with the sinner regarding sins he’s struggling with.

But on another level there’s a big difference, and there’s a good analogy we can use to explain this. Say someone is married. He has a marriage. Say he’s sinned against his wife. He’s in the dog house. He’s feeling down. So he goes to a friend, and the friend says, “Hey, you’re married. Your marriage is intact.” And indeed, that is absolutely true, is it not? That is part of the cosmic reality of truth: the man and the woman are indeed married. That may give the man some comfort, but something is still missing.

He needs to hear from his wife that he’s forgiven, or from someone his wife has authorized, so to speak. “Hey,” says the wife’s friend Jenny, “I got this word from your wife, ‘I forgive you.’ ” Though those words effectively state the same cosmic truth as “You’re married; your marriage is intact,” but yet they are so much more. They personalize the truth of that reality for the “sinner.”

So also with absolution vs. declaration. Absolution personalizes the cosmic truth that Jesus died for all sinners for the individual sinner. And sometimes we need that.

But whether it’s a declaration or an absolution, the foundation for both is that Jesus has the authority on earth to forgive sins, rooted on the cosmic truth that He Himself has died for the sins of the world.

 

But Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Arise and walk’?

Lots going on in this little passage. We get evidence of Jesus’ divine omniscience when He knows their thoughts, proof of His divinity Matthew seems to be underscoring by repeating this detail three times. The “scribes said (1) within themselves, …Jesus, (2) knowing their thoughts, said, ‘Why do you (3) think evil in your hearts?’ ” Of course, one of the big points of the Gospel is that Jesus cannot be blaspheming if He indeed is “God with us” speaking God’s Word.

Interesting, but notice also the biblical psychology going on. “Within themselves” parallels “thoughts” and “in your hearts.” Where in lieu of 19th Romanticism like to make a contrast between the head and heart – and the obnoxious legacy of that is in the contrast between “heart religion” and “head religion” – in fact the two are indistinguishable in the ancient mind.

Now, what is the evil the scribes were thinking in their hearts? The scribes, like most everyone, had not had the veil taken from their minds; they weren’t caught up with “fullness of time” yet. By the standards of the Old Testament revelation, it would have been blasphemy to go around declaring people’s sins forgiven. What was “evil” about that?

Perhaps we need to be a bit more philosophical about what evil is, and not see it according to the Manichaean, Disney-brushed caricatures we tend to think of it as, where evil is seen with demonic grins and cackling laughter. The scribes weren’t necessarily being malicious, but were actually trying to be faithful. What, then, was the evil?

As we’ve frequently been contemplating, evil came on the scene in divine history when God introduced it as everything His created world was not. Everything He created was good, and Adam was given to live in that goodness, to name it, to know it. But one small corner of that creation had one thing that was not good, something Adam was not to know, and that the additional “and evil” associated with the tree of the knowledge of good “and evil.”

So by that setup, evil is whatever is not of God’s creation. It’s not true. It’s a realm of nothingness. It’s an arena where human desire is allowed to take over and project phantasies which obscure and taint the material creation – the fruit of the tree suddenly looks “desirable.”

As we meditated on yesterday, Jesus’ atonement for the sins of the world is part of cosmic reality. It is as true as the sunrise: everyone’s sins are forgiven. That lame man’s forgiveness is a cosmic truth Jesus was relaying to him no different than, “The sun will rise up on you this morning.” Being part of the cosmic order, it is good, for all things God created are good. Evil would be to claim the cosmic truth about forgiveness to be not true, or not part of the created order. Or, it would be to claim as blasphemous one who testified to this cosmic truth, which is exactly what the scribes were doing with Jesus.

Satan is constantly trying to say what isn’t true is true, and what is true as not true. “It’s true that you can make the world a better place” he says on one hand, while also saying, “It’s not true that your sins are forgiven you.” Similarly he inspired Peter to keep Jesus from going to the cross – again, it’s clearly not that Peter was some malicious Disney-esque character, but that he was seeking to make “what is” to be “what is not,” that is, the atonement of Christ.

Now, on to the confusing part of the passage. Is it easier to say, “Your sins are forgive you,” or to say, “Arise and walk”? I think we over-think the text if we make the argument, “Forgiveness was something only God could do, therefore that was the harder thing to say.” No, saying “Your sins are forgiven you” are just words; anyone can say them. That’s why they were blasphemy. Those words can be said “in vain.” They can be throwaway, empty, meaningless words.

Furthermore, while the meaning of “easy” means “not requiring great effort or work” – and clearly Jesus had to do incredible effort and work to make forgiveness available – it’s not that work referred to as easy, but the speaking of the word testifying to the results of that work which is easy. Which is indeed true: Jesus has made the forgiveness of others easy to declare.

Jesus asks the question after asking why they thought evil in their hearts. He seems to be saying, “Why are you acting as if this man’s forgiveness is not part of the cosmic order to which I am testifying, a new cosmic order which makes forgiveness abundant, readily available, and yes, easy to declare?”

As to that last point, lets underscore it. Jesus has taught that we ought to forgive the sins of others, as we have been forgiven. He teaches we should forgive as often as we need to, seventy times seven times. Yes, that makes forgiveness easy. And it should be, if Christ has indeed died for the sins of the world, and has promised, “every sin will be forgiven man” (but the sin against the Holy Spirit).

“Arise and walk” by contrast, could immediately make the one who says them look like a fool, exposing him as a liar. So those words are not easy to say.

But that leaves something hanging in the air. While Jesus is testifying to a mystery hidden from the foundation of the world – that is, the mystery of Christ’s cosmic atonement for the sins of the world – this mystery was not yet revealed fully, especially to the scribes. Therefore in their minds, forgiveness remained extremely difficult to say; it could result in being stoned for blasphemy, after all! So, they (and us) need something more, some evidence that Jesus indeed has this cosmic perspective. And that’s exactly what He gives in the passage that follows, evidence that He is God.

From the scribes perspective, Jesus’ question is an interesting conundrum. Which is easier, to say something that could expose you as a fool, or to say something that could get you stoned? Likely they would have chosen being exposed as fools. Jesus, in fact, chose the latter, and did, in fact, get capital punishment for blasphemy. Meanwhile He humbled Himself in human flesh to make the former easy as well. Altogether it yields a beautiful truth: our salvation, both our forgiveness and our “rising from our beds” has been made easy with Christ.

And at once some of the scribes said within themselves, “This Man blasphemes!”

Blasphemy is a sin of speaking. Blasphemy is to speak of God or on behalf of God things which are not true, that is, which are not authorized or ordained by Him. To curse someone is to stand in God’s place and declare something you have no right to declare. To swear in order to muster God in support of some claim you are making ties His good name to your nonsense.

To speak “in God’s name” or “in Jesus’ name” binds us to words He has authorized. Jesus only spoke in the Father’s name, and He sent out His apostles to speak in His name. No one speaking in the Lord’s name would make something up and attach His name to it. That’s blasphemy.

Preachers especially out to be careful here. How many preachers, implicitly preaching in the Lord’s name (because they’re in a pulpit), will talk about how God is weighing some nonsense on their hearts they feel compelled to speak? Blasphemy. How many preachers in the Lord’s name give their opinions on things the Scriptures do not speak. Blasphemy. How many lie or deceive in His name, saying things found nowhere in Scripture, or found out of context in Scripture?

Jesus teaches only “yes” and “no” when it comes to speaking. That is, speak truth. If it’s true, it is to be spoken or proclaimed. If it is not true, it is not to be spoken or proclaimed. That, indeed, is bearing false witness.

How often do people speak truths they are not authorized to claim? How often are cosmic truths proclaimed with no basis in anything? They speak things about ethics, the origins of the world, or about the structure of invisible things which can only be opinions, but they declare them as if they are God. They stand in God’s place speaking things only He is authorized to speak.

On those terms we are a world of blasphemers. Everyone claims cosmic certainty about things they have no business speaking about. A humble approach defers to God, which means to defer to His Word.

And when it comes to the created order, we confine ourselves to the world as it is readily witnessed, observed, and physically presented to us. Language arises from this world, and communication based on the named items of this world has served humanity quite well. This language we are permitted to speak.

But again, how easily we slip into God’s role and pontificate from His throne about cosmic realities we are not authorized to speak about? “A loving God wouldn’t do such and so,” we declare. Or, “I feel like the end is near,” we prophecy. Or, “This is the way of the world,” we philosophize.

Theology by assertions arising from one’s rectum is blasphemy. We truly know nothing beyond the observable universe, and what we have as far as God is concerned is from the Holy Scriptures. Anything beyond this is, as Jesus says, from the evil one, who lurks and thrives in the grey areas of probing, desire-based phantasy projection – because that’s all the grey areas really give us, a canvass on which we can assert our own desires.

When Jesus declared the man’s sins forgiven, He was not speaking a lie, because He had insider information about cosmic realities. He, after all, fills the cosmos, and the cosmos was created in and through Him. He’s the Word and fulfillment of the prophetic word.

He declared the man’s sins forgiven in lieu of His fulfillment of the Old Testament atoning sacrifices and the ministry of the priests. As Hebrews says, “And every priest stands ministering daily and offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins forever, sat down at the right hand of God.”

Jesus knew this, being eternal and omniscient (as we see when He knows what the scribes are saying in their hearts), so He declared the truth to the man. Later we hear the people glorifying God that He had given such authority to “men,” meaning the cosmic truth of man’s forgiveness is something granted not just to Jesus, but to anyone. It’s one cosmic truth we can pontificate about. It’s one divine teaching we have every right to declare to anyone and everyone: “Your sins are forgiven you.”

Of whom could this not be said? Of whom is Jesus’ statement that “Every sin will be forgiven man” not true? No one. Therefore it is not blasphemy to say it.

See what mysteries of the incarnation are at work here! By His divinity, Jesus knows the cosmic truth that He would die for sins. By His humanity, Jesus testifies to that truth as the first man and on behalf of “men”: “Your sins are forgiven you.”

Jesus hasn’t really done an absolution yet. Or better put, the language in the text so far, while suggesting an absolution, hasn’t been clear whether it’s an absolution properly speaking…yet. An absolution would be to say, “I forgive you your sins.” “Your sins are forgive you” is more testimonial, that is, a cosmic truth claim regarding another’s forgiveness rather than an exertion of personal authority to forgive. Jesus will lift the narrative to a discussion of absolution proper in the verses to come, and that discussion will await a later day.

Then behold, they brought to Him a paralytic lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their faith, He said to the paralytic, “Son, be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.”

Communal faith. That’s the suggestion of the language of this passage. Jesus looks at the faith of those who “brought to Him a paralytic” and says to the paralytic, “Your sins are forgiven.” On the basis of the faith of others, Jesus forgave another.

It seems to be a strong theme of Protestantism that each individual is responsible for his own faith. This goes hand in hand with an understanding that one’s moment of salvation is when he, personally, is confronted with the Lord in a powerful experience, and he must decide what course he will take. This is a very individual moment, one he must do on his own, that happens in the depths of his own soul. Afterwards, he may (and should) join others who have similarly had that personal encounter with a “personal Savior,” but in the end, the faith is a personal, almost private, affair.

Certain passages can be mustered to support this understanding, like from Ezekiel 18: “The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not bear the guilt of the father, nor the father bear the guilt of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself.”

But goodness, if this passage is taken to its logical conclusion, how can Jesus “bear the guilt” of others? Do we not share Jesus righteousness? Or is each person responsible for himself, for both his guilt and his righteousness? Doesn’t that negate Christ?

Of course it does. Christ is a communal affair, even as the Church is the body of Christ where we are in fellowship with Him. Well, this foundational reality puts faith in a new light. If in the hyper-Protestant understanding of faith, faith is something managed by any specific individual as he reacts to an “encounter” with Christ, in this communal understanding of faith, faith is more passively received, not managed by us, but by Christ through His Church. Or put simply, in the hyper-Protestant view, I do the faith; in the communal understanding of faith, the faith does me.

The danger of me managing faith is the temptation toward idolatry, which is the projection of human desire wed to things other than the Lord Jesus. How often is “faith” nothing more than that? It becomes a projection of my goals and values onto this image or phantasm of “Christ” in such a way that I can through tricks of the mind fancy I’m doing something pious? This in fact is the dynamic of the antichristian spirit.

When faith is communal, a different dynamic is going on. Keep in mind, a proper understanding of faith must include among its premises the faith of infants. That alone brings a new dynamic, and just to keep us on track, the baby stands a greater chance according to the dynamic given in the text – Jesus looks at their faith and forgives the sins of another – than according to the hyper-Protestant, “personal faith” view of faith.

What is that dynamic? A good analogy might be that of the ark. The ark saved. What does that mean? It means that there is a certain architecture conforming to the realities of the Lord’s judgment in the waters. As the eight souls stood on one side of that architecture, they – bodily even! – had to conform to that architecture. Were Japheth to say, “I think I’ll take a stroll a few feet on the other side of this ark’s walls,” he would die. He has to conform himself to the exact contours of the ark in order to secure its benefits.

So also faith, or the ark of faith. Faith saves. What does that mean? It means there is a certain architecture conforming to the realities of the Lord’s judgment of the world. As redeemed souls stand on one side of that architecture, they – bodily even! – have to conform to that architecture. Were a Christian to say, “I think I’ll baptize without water, commune without bread and wine, confess a Christ other than what Scriptures gives,” he will die. He has to conform himself to the exact contours of the faith in order to secure its benefits.

And that faith, like the ark, is not a function of my inner psychological dynamics. It’s outside of us. And as such, it’s a communal thing. Eight souls each participated fully in the ark without regard to their mental state, their sleeping, their animosity toward one another, or their doubts – it was part of the architecture of their reality. And if a baby was born among them, it would have enjoyed those benefits just as much as they did.

The analogy of the Church is slightly different because in fact there is the involvement of the Church. The Lord is enthroned in the praises of Israel. The lame man is enthroned and healed in the pallet of his friends. Jesus is the architecture made flesh, and His Church is the mysterious manifestation of Christ in time.

The human involvement, in other words, is due to the incarnation – so the Lord manages the faith in flesh. But this doesn’t set a foundation for each individual Christian to manage his own faith on his terms.

What, then, does it mean? It means, well, the liturgy. The liturgy is the faith doing us, and not us doing the faith. The liturgy is the faith of Christ spelled out in specific elements, from beginning to end. It works out in its specific elements the calling on His name, the praying for mercy, the glorifying of His name, the confession of His name, the hearing of His Word, the dining with Him, the heavenly presence surrounded by angels who behold His face (and the Father’s). All these elements are given life by Christ, and worked in us through the liturgy.

In other words, the liturgy is the bed we lie on, brought to us by “those who have faith” who come to Jesus. We join in the communal faith. We pray “Our Father,” not “My Father.” We pray, “Lord, have mercy upon us.” Our personal involvement in that liturgy will be great, small, sleeping, skeptical, doubting, and sometimes even non-existent. But as long as we’re on the right side of the walls of that ark, we’re saved from the wrath on the outside.

Or put another way, when Jesus sees the communal faith, He says to us, “Son, be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.”

 

So He got into a boat, crossed over, and came to His own city.

There’s something baptismal about these opening words of the Gospel. Jesus was crossing over the sea into which He had just cast a legion of demons. The waters buried them; Jesus comes through. Jesus had originally descended into the demonic realm of the Gergesenes. It was unwelcome territory for Jesus and remained so even after He left. It’s sort of “earth in a nutshell.”

Or, it’s the crucifixion side of Jesus’ “baptism,” of which the other side is His resurrection. In this realm is one word of authority, “Go.” It demonstrates His authority over demons, but not much more. No, Jesus needed to come “into His own city,” or, Zion in a nutshell.

Jesus floated over the waters, because the One who hovers over the waters, the Holy Spirit, had alighted on Him in fulfillment of Isaiah 42: “Behold! My Servant whom I uphold, My Elect One in whom My soul delights! I have put My Spirit upon Him.” And later in this chapter we hear what the blessings of this anointing will include: To be “As a light to the Gentiles, To open blind eyes, To bring out prisoners from the prison, Those who sit in darkness from the prison house.”

Such are the baptismal promises, witnessed in type in the burying of the demons in the waters, an action prophecy of what would happen in baptism, when the demons would be cast in the abyss. In any event, this sets up what would happen when Jesus arrived in His Zion, His home city, in our Gospel for this week.

(Interesting, but in the Isaiah 42 we get another little passage that sheds some light into the context: “And the coastlands shall wait for His law.” The scene of our Gospel is around the coastlands of Galileee. Matthew 9-10 is all about those in bondage to sin, death, and the devil all waiting for “His law,” which is to open eyes and free prisoners from the dark prison house.)

So Jesus comes “to His own city.” It’s a type of His ascension – it’s what happens after Jesus’ descent into the realm of the demonic. Among the “mysteries of godliness” sung about by St. Paul is that Jesus, along with being manifest in the flesh, would be “justified in the Spirit.” That is, His ascension to God’s right hand would demonstrate God’s righteousness, the restoration of man through faith in Christ to God’s fellowship; and this would be a Spirit saturated event, even as the Holy Spirit would take this reality and bestow it to us by declaration of the Gospel.

The Holy Spirit’s mission is to deliver the forgiveness of sins through the ministry of the apostolic ministers. And this brings us back to the revolutionary character of the action prophecy Jesus establishes with the miracle of this week’s Gospel.

If indeed Jesus “coming to His own city” is a type of His ascension, it stands to reason granting forgiveness by the Holy Spirit – the water-hoverer – would be part and parcel of that event. And so that’s exactly what He did. He forgave the sins of the lame man. This is the flip side of what almost appears as unfulfilled on the other side of the sea, the two men freed of demons, but whose community didn’t want anything to do with Jesus after that.

On those terms we have an interesting contrast. Or again, perhaps not so much a contrast but a dual installation of the baptismal mystery, in type. The “crucified to Christ” side of the sea means the drowning of the old demonic realm, but it remains an unfulfilled mystery. Even the confession going on in the moment was perverse: “What have we to do with You, Jesus, You Son of God?” True, that’s a baptismal confession, and it’s a baptismal confession acknowledging the lordship of Christ, but it’s a confession that doesn’t want Jesus anywhere near.

The fulfilled confession only happens with Jesus’ arrival in His own city, in His ascension, in the full restoration of our fellowship with God, in the forgiveness of sins, and in the sending of the Holy Spirit. Here, we can truly “glorify God” in a pure confession, because the Lord is present among us not in fear and terror – as the demons received Him – but with forgiveness and mercy, as the lame man received Him.

 

Matthew 9: 1-8
So He got into a boat, crossed over, and came to His own city.  Then behold, they brought to Him a paralytic lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their faith, He said to the paralytic, “Son, be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.” And at once some of the scribes said within themselves, “This Man blasphemes!” But Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Arise and walk’?  But that you may know that the Son of Man has power on earth to forgive sins”—then He said to the paralytic, “Arise, take up your bed, and go to your house.”  And he arose and departed to his house.  Now when the multitudes saw it, they marveled and glorified God, who had given such power to men.

Matthew 9 comes in the heart and center of a two chapter tour de force in the Gospel of Matthew. Given the nature of Hebrew chiasm – where the climactic high point of the text isn’t toward the end, as it is in modern literature and drama, but in the middle – then there may be something pivotal about this text.

What’s the background?

Jesus had just gotten done preaching the sermon on the mount. The sermon on the mount was Jesus debut teaching not only in Matthew’s Gospel but in the whole New Testament. It begins on a mountain, invoking Moses, but also invoking the thunder, lightning, and fear of Moses’ time up on Sinai. Jesus was like a Moses insofar as He taught from the mountain; would there be fear and trembling in His path as well?

When Jesus completed the sermon, the text remarks how “the people were astonished at His teaching, for He taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.”

Yes, Jesus certainly had authority. He taught things beyond what Moses taught. He taught unlike anyone before He taught in an active way that made His sermon a dynamic event. That is, at the same time He preaches the blessedness of poverty of spirit, meekness, mourning, and hungering and thirsting for righteousness, He causes us by that same preaching to realize our spiritual poverty, to be meek, to mourn, and to hunger and thirst for righteousness. Brilliant!

Just as subtle is how He interwove “your father” in the whole sermon, twelve times, as if He’s re-adopting the tribes of Israel, sharing His own sonship with them.

The people recognized something special going on. They recognized authority. This was something divine.

And now Jesus was coming down the hill. How would He use that authority? Would He be willing to heal the cursed? Well, that’s at least what the leper asked Him, and Jesus said, “Yes.” And so began two chapters of incredible grace and mercy. Not thunder and lightning in His wake, but conquering. He conquered over sin, death, and the power of the devil, and that we see throughout the two chapters. He cast out demons. He stilled the waves. He healed the blind. He raised the dead. Sin, death, and the devil.

But at the heart and center of these two chapters is our Gospel for this week. Here and here alone do we see Jesus show His authority over sin. And if it’s a chiasm, it would be because sin drives everything else, the curse, the death, the blindness and disease, the devils. Forgiving that sin, then, would be the pivotal event.

Some people (“they”) brought to Jesus the paralytic. Everything to this point suggests Jesus would heal the paralytic of his lameness. Instead, the text tells us, “When Jesus saw their faith, He said to the paralytic, ‘Son, be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.’ ”

Two things jar us from this passage, one intentional and one unintentional. The intentional thing is that Jesus doesn’t heal the man, but forgives his sins. Matthew is introducing the real problem we have, which is sin. Matthew is the one who introduced Jesus’ name with the words, “for He will save His people from their sins.” Matthew also, after this Gospel, inserts his own story in the text, informing us that Jesus came not for the righteous, but for sinners

The unintentional thing that jars us is how Jesus forgave the man’s sins on the basis of “their” faith. This jars a modernized Christianity which sees the faith as an individual thing, and the church as a community of believers rather than a community of faith. There is a difference. In the “community of believers” understanding, the people manage their faith; in the “community of faith” understanding, the faith manages the people.

The Gospel here presents us a community of faith. The man is forgiven based on the faith of others. Can the faith of parents cause a baby to be forgiven in baptism? This passage suggests, “Yes.”

To prove Jesus has authority to forgive sins, He also heals the man. Yes, He has the authority. He has the divinity. He can forgive because clearly He has creative powers, as only God can have.

In response to the evidence before them, that God had given such power to men, the people glorify God. The language here is important. They glorified God not that He had given power to a man, Jesus, but to “men” in general. Something had happened. Something had revolutionized their understanding. What previously was blasphemy was now the possession of one man, and through Him other men. The power to forgive sins became the possession of man.

Of course, Matthew builds on this theme in upcoming passages, when in Matthew 10 Jesus calls the twelve men with Him to do what He had done, and in Matthew 16 and 18 when He introduces the power of the Keys, the authority to forgive sins where men are present on earth.

Everything we’ve laid down adds up to a significant and beautiful truth. The pivotal event in the Gospel of Matthew – in the midst of Jesus’ demonstrating His authority over sin, death, and the devil – we see that His power is the possession not just of Him, but certain men He may potentially authorize (which He does), and that power is the power of absolution.

When Jesus comes down from the mountain, will it be with thunder and lightning? Or will it be with mercy and forgiveness? Now we know. And more than that, we know the pivotal way this mercy and forgiveness carries on today. It’s when men use the power He gave them to forgive sins, to do so. For that we glorify God as well.

If David then calls Him ‘Lord,’ how is He his Son?” And no one was able to answer Him a word, nor from that day on did anyone dare question Him anymore.

How is the Messiah, the one whom the Lord calls to sit down at His right hand, also David’s son? The only answer that makes sense is, “He’s both. He’s David’s son and David’s Lord.” But that’s a paradox. Or rather, it’s a mystery. There’s a reason the Pharisees were unable to answer Jesus with a word. They have not been given to know the mystery. Why? Because as the New Testament tells us in several areas, the mystery of Jesus Christ has been “kept secret since the world began,” but is only being revealed with the coming of Christ and the ministry of the apostles.

There are several mysteries the New Testament talks about. These include the mystery of the Gentiles inclusion in God’s fellowship, the mystery of the resurrection, and the mystery of the incarnation and Trinity. As to this latter mystery, St. Paul refers to the “mystery” of godliness, among which is that God is manifest in flesh. He also talks of the “mystery of God, both of the Father and of the Christ.” The Trinity and Incarnation are mysteries revealed in the fullness of time.

Those two latter mysteries explain why the Pharisees did not answer Jesus a word. When Jesus taught the mystery of “God manifest in the flesh” of the Messiah, that is, the mystery of the Christ, the Pharisees were dealing with something beyond their purview.

The fact that Jesus, His Person and work, are founded from the foundation of the world and then revealed in the fullness of time, proves a point we have been making, that Jesus is not Plan B. All creation, and all salvation history, is acted out according to mysteries established at the beginning of time. It’s much like a seed, which despite its insignificance hides within its bowels the manifestation of mighty plants or animals. Jesus is a seed planted int the DNA of creation and made manifest in the fullness of time.

Yes, that suggests that when the Lord added the possibility of falling into evil – knowing full well man would do so – this was part of His greater plan. Jesus, again, wasn’t His backup plan. His coming into the flesh to save mankind; His dying on the cross for sins, rising again over death, and ascending into heaven was all part of the foundational plan.

We see that very clearly in such passages as this:

“But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, the hidden wisdom which God ordained before the ages for our glory, which none of the rulers of this age knew; for had they known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.”

The crucifixion was planned before the ages, just as Revelation describes “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.”

But why? What in God’s wisdom needed to be kept so secret until the “fullness of time” when man would be ready to receive the mysteries of (a) the Trinity, (b) the incarnation, and (c) the fellowship of Jew and Gentile in God?

Who knows. That’s why it’s a mystery. Many things await knowledge for a later day. However, what this does do is cause our way of thinking to adjust to God’s time frame and God’s plan. We tend to be systematic about God – what are Gods’ attributes and what accords with His nature? The “mystery – revelation” mode of God’s relating to us undermines this approach.

This is related to the mystery of faith, that is, the mystery that there is something essential about man’s full development calling for the rise of faith in salvation history. As we’ve meditated several months ago, why faith? Why has the Lord in His wisdom introduced this dispensation of faith, rather than visual proofs of His work?

Again, who knows, but the more conform our understanding to the essential need for faith, for mysteries, and for hidden things revealed, the more we conform to Christ’s mind, which isn’t always systematic the way we might like it. So yes, we receive Holy Communion as a testament, emblem, and manifestation of His flesh and blood. Why? Who knows! And yes, we understand baptism as the doorway into faith. Why? Why water? Why always water? Who knows!

Yet, that is how the mystery panned out, and faith receives those gifts. Faith embraces paradoxes. Faith confesses mysteries, like the Trinity, and like the Incarnation.

The Pharisees couldn’t answer a word. The mystery Jesus was revealing to them was beyond them. But we of faith can most certainly answer. We say “Amen,” even as we confess the creeds which articulate the mysteries.

Are there paradoxes yet today we hold which will not be fully clear until Christ’s Second Coming? I think there may be. Why do we see the goodness of the Lord among many evils? Why do we embrace the Lord’s presence in much suffering? How can we be sinner and saint at the same time, and why has this been writ into our DNA from the foundation of time?

If we had Jesus’ exegetical prowess, how many people could we silence by our insightful use of God’s Word, displaying the paradoxes? How many passages would silence us? The paradoxical passages are there, and instead of trying to untie Gordian knots through our systematic theologizing, perhaps there are times it’s best to await the full revelation of the truth.

He said to them, “How then does David in the Spirit call Him ‘Lord,’ saying: ‘The LORD said to my Lord, “Sit at My right hand, Till I make Your enemies Your footstool” ’

To build the case He’s making against the Pharisees, Jesus quotes Psalm 110. Psalm 110 is the most quoted passage in Scripture, of course all of this quoting coming from the New Testament. This is interesting. It’s not Isaiah 53, not Psalm 22, not Genesis 3: 15, but Psalm 110, the Psalm about Jesus’ ascension. This goes to show how much Ascension Day is underrated in peoples’ minds.

Here is the Psalm in full:

“The LORD said to my Lord, ‘Sit at My right hand, Till I make Your enemies Your footstool.’ The LORD shall send the rod of Your strength out of Zion. Rule in the midst of Your enemies! Your people shall be volunteer In the day of Your power; In the beauties of holiness, from the womb of the morning, You have the dew of Your youth. The LORD has sworn And will not relent, “You are a priest forever According to the order of Melchizedek.” The Lord is at Your right hand; He shall execute kings in the day of His wrath. He shall judge among the nations, He shall fill the places with dead bodies, He shall execute the heads of many countries. He shall drink of the brook by the wayside; Therefore He shall lift up the head.”

The “Sit at My right hand” part of the passage is directly quoted five times in the New Testament, three of which are repeated in the synoptic Gospels. The Melchizedek portion is quoted in Hebrews four times. The idea of Jesus’ enemies being under His feet comes up several times, albeit not direct quotes. Clearly the idea of the Messiah judging among the nations figures in numerous passages.

It’s not only the passage itself, but the powerful Trinitarian and incarnational theology undergirding the whole passage. There’s a reason Jesus Himself brought it up to teach the mystery of His Person.

Who is the LORD and who is the Lord? Typically when LORD is in all capital letters, it’s a translation of the word Yahweh (YHWH), or Jehovah, the divine name of God revealed to Moses. Lord not in all capital letters is a translation of Adonai, which also refers to God, but can also refer to “lord” as in “lord of the manor,” or “sir.” Things get somewhat confusing because in the Greek translation of the Old Testament, Kyrios is used for both, and Kyrios can also mean LORD, or “lord” and “sir.” So, in the Greek translation of the Old Testament (the Septuagint), it is essentially, “The Kyrios said to my Kyrios.”

Now, Jehovah’s Witnesses like to emphasize that this proves Jesus is Lord, but not LORD. Only the Father, Jehovah, is YHWH, or LORD. The “Lord” is just the Son of God, not God Himself.

But frankly, no one thought this way. Adonai was most frequently used as a reference to God, which is why the Greek translators had no problem using Kyrios for both Adonai and Yahweh. Yahweh is more a name, while Adonai is more a title, but both are used for God.

In any event, Philippians 2: 9 says God gave Jesus “the name which is above every name.” Ask any Jehovah’s Witness what the “name which is above every name” is and they’ll correctly say, “Jehovah.” Well, Jesus was given that name, for which reason St. Paul concludes in Philippians 2: 10-11, “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, [and] confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.”

That’s Kyrios. So, clearly, St. Paul understands that if Jesus is given the name Yahweh – the name above every name – the conclusion is that we confess Jesus is Kyrios. Kyrios is Yahweh, and Jesus is Kyrios; therefore, Jesus is Yahweh.

The idea that Jesus is “given” this name shouldn’t suggest He didn’t have it from eternity, but that in the economy of salvation, that is, the unfolding administration of certain mysteries, for us, the man Jesus became the instrumentality of everything that Yahweh is for us, and that happened at His ascension.

At Jesus’ ascension a man reestablished fellowship with God. He sat down at the right hand of the Father, the place of fellowship and authority. He attained to that authority, an authority executed in the baptizing and teaching of all nations. In other words, having established man at God’s right hand, we have the full meaning and revelation of what God’s divine name Yahweh means. Yahweh means “He Is” even as Jesus is “I Am” – God is life and life-giving. This life-giving in His name happens through baptism in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Even as Jesus has eternal life given Him, His flesh and blood manhood, so now is He the source of eternal life for all who are baptized in Him. To be baptized into the name is to be baptized into the fellowship of that name – the three in perfect unity. One of those three is a man, who sat down in fellowship with the Father. That’s us, in Him!

We can see here why Psalm 110 is so critical. Jesus sitting at God’s right hand triggers it all. It manifests the fullness of the Holy Trinity. It bestows on the man Jesus the full divine name, granting the possibility of all mankind to have fellowship in the divine nature, through that same baptismal name.

It also triggers the sending of the Holy Spirit, about whom Jesus said, “Nevertheless I tell you the truth. It is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you; but if I depart, I will send Him to you. …He will glorify Me, for He will take of what is Mine and declare it to you.”

And faith in this name – and the teaching that goes with it – overcomes the world. It causes kings to fall under our feet. As St. John says, which could easily have the theology of Psalm 110 lurking behind it, “whatever is born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world – our faith.”

Yes, to be born of God is to be baptized in His name. To be baptized in His name is to be baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This name is revealed in such a way: the man Jesus has been given this name in His exaltation at God’s right hand, and this moment triggered the sending of the Holy Spirit, who gives to us by declaration everything Jesus has attained, including the name “He Is,” that is, eternal life.

No wonder people volunteer in the day of His power.