Post by Mark on Jan 23, 2010 6:32:04 GMT -8
And he said unto them, Unto you it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God: but unto them that are without, all [these] things are done in parables: That seeing they may see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not understand; lest at any time they should be converted, and [their] sins should be forgiven them.
(Mark 4:11-12)
Sometimes the Scriptures can seem confusing, even contradictory. We’re told that God is a God of love and that He desires that all men should come to repentance. We’re told that Messiah came to seek and save that which is lost. Yet, here, it seems He is purposefully withholding the words of truth from the people who, if convinced could spread the good news of Messiah to the entire nation quickly and easily.
One argument is that if He managed to convince them, then He would never have been crucified. The problem with this is that, they were convinced:
There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews: The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him.
(John 3:1-2)
Why all the mystery?
Often we miss the answer because we overlook something in the text that would be more obvious if we were to read it in the original language. There is a clear distinction made by Messiah between the people who are offered the message clearly and those who are spoken to only in parables.
"…but unto them that are without, all these things are done in parables…"
Throughout Scripture, there is a clear delineation between those who are inside and those who are outside. Throughout the Old Testament (the Tanakh), when the idea of "outsiders" is expressed, it is in reference to gentiles who do not embrace the God of Israel or to Jews who have rejected their people and their faith. It must have been uncomfortable to the disciples, hearing this distinction made between them and the religious leaders of their nation, their friends and fellow-Israelites.
Yet, the fault of this distinction rests solely upon the outsider and there is no sense in the language that Yeshua is decidedly rejecting anyone. To be on the outside or to be on the inside is completely one’s own choice. The invitation is open. It is their own decision to remain without.
It reminds me of Messiah’s statement about who can enter in. He said, "He who comes as a little child…." I think I may be beginning to understand. This morning at Shabbat services, I’m going to bring up a paper bag. I’m going to open the bag and look inside and ask, "Who wants to know what’s in the bag?" Everyone wants to know because, knowing me, usually it’s chocolate. Yet, who do you suppose will be the ones to willingly come up to the front and look inside? It will be the children.
We big people are uncomfortable with looking like we have a need. We feel vulnerable with the notion that someone else has something that we would like to have. We avoid being placed at a disadvantage. We hang back and stay on the outside.
It’s not that Messiah was refusing to offer His truth to people in a way that they could clearly understand. It is rather that they were hanging back, confident in their own situation, not allowing themselves the possibility that He may very well have something that they need.
Messiah quotes Isaiah 6:9-10, where the people of Israel are described as fat and lazy, utterly self-satisfied without a knowledge of God.
I remember as a young boy, about eight years old, my family had recently moved from the Ozark hills of Northern Arkansas to Corvallis, Oregon (which would be named one of the best places in America to live by Time Magazine). I was riding my bicycle to school when the boy on the bike in front of me suddenly fell over and crashed. I asked, "Are you okay?"
I asked this, not because I had any intention of rendering any assistance. I asked this because it is what you are supposed to say when someone crashes on their bicycle in front of you. To my absolute astonishment, he said, "No."
I was paralyzed with confusion. I didn’t know what to do. From where I came from, if you fall down on your bicycle and someone asks, "Are you okay?" the proper response is, "Yes, I’m fine." It doesn’t matter if you have bone tissue protruding from your thigh and your near faint due to blood-loss, you still answer that everything is going just as well as they possibly could without any assistance. This kid had the audacity to speak the truth, that he was hurt and he could really use some assistance.
I rode on.
Some thirty years later, I suddenly understand why maybe we never had that great of a relationship while growing up.
Paul says, in 1st Corinthians 2, that the Spirit of God doesn’t share the truth with those who think they’ve got it all together, to those who couldn’t care less what is in the bag, to those who would refuse a hand on the side of the road. He literally says that the Spirit of Adonai chose you… who were stupid and weak and knew it.
It’s just like the nation of Israel wasn’t chosen because she was the greatest, smartest and best. In Ezekiel 16, she is described as being found as a newly born baby, helpless, thrown out in the field to die: literally a botched abortion.
We’ve got to get past this arrogance of self-sufficiency: no thanks, God, I can handle it. We don’t realize what we’re missing because we don’t want to think that there might something that is actually in the bag that we really, really want.
We really desire to be on the inside, don’t we? We don’t want to be left out. Get up and run over to look in and see what’s in the bag! I promise you will be glad that you did!
