The land is the Lord's
Commentary
A man was typing away at a computer with a stack of video cassettes by his side, when a friend walked in. "What are you doing?" asked the friend.
"I'm selling my old videos on the Web," he said. "I've upgraded these movies to DVD, so I don't need the old versions anymore."
"Wait a minute," said the friend as he picked up a box off the stack. "Didn't I give you this one for your birthday?"
"Yes, and thank you very much," said the man, as he slipped that particular box off to the side.
It is widely considered to be in bad taste to sell gifts, even if they are in need of upgrading. Some people won't even exchange a gift at the store. Presumably, the gift-giver chose that gift for you, and it would be rude to second-guess generosity.
On the other hand, there is that whatsit that Uncle Al sent last Christmas....
"Gift" is used throughout the Bible to characterize the relation between God and humanity. It is the root meaning of the concept "grace" in the New Testament, and the foundation of the covenant in the Hebrew Bible. There is an inextricable tie between what we have been given and who we are before God. What we do with what we have measures our relationship with God; to deny this truth is inevitably to fall into idolatry.
This week's lections illustrate the connection between God and gift. In 1 Kings, faithfulness to God is measured by land assessment. In Galatians, our daily meals provide that measure. And in the Gospel of Luke, both eating and giving speak to human participation in the gift of God.
1 Kings 21:1-21a
The story of Naboth's vineyard is part of a larger narrative presenting two contrasting worldviews. On one side is Elijah the prophet, who, since chapter 18 of 1 Kings, has been locked in a deadly cat-and-mouse game with the enemies of the covenant. On the other side, ironically, is Ahab, king of Israel, and his powerful wife, Jezebel. 1 Kings blames Ahab's demise on the influence of his queen, a Baal-worshiper who did not understand that, unlike in her native Sidon, the king of Israel did not dictate law, but was subject to a higher law. The story of their fatal encounter with Naboth is sandwiched between accounts of Ahab's war with Aram, and explains Ahab's defeat in that holy war was due to his abuse of power as king.
The account is presented in two parts that represent the struggle between monarchy and prophecy: the king's story (21:1-16), and the prophet's story (21:17-29). The king's story establishes Ahab as one who neither understands nor practices the covenant; the whole chapter is an extended exposition on the commandment against covetousness. Naboth's vineyard was next to the king's summer palace in Jezreel, a cool, low-altitude getaway (18:44-45). That Ahab wants to replace the vineyard with a vegetable garden is symbolic, for the vineyard stood for Israel (Isaiah 3:13-15; 5:1-7; Jeremiah 2:21; 12:10; Ezekiel 19:10-14; Hosea 10:1), while "vegetable garden" summons images of slavery in Egypt (Deuteronomy 11:10; cf. 6:10-12; 8:8-10). The Promised Land was where vegetation would grow naturally, never in need of the artificial irrigation that Egyptian farms depended on. "Jezreel" actually means "God sows," or "May God make fruitful." But under Ahab, the inheritance of Israel would be seized by one who would plant and irrigate, rather than let God's blessing bloom.
Ahab's perfectly generous offer of compensation shows that he does not understand that the land is God's gift to the people, and not a commodity to be traded at will. Naboth's refusal to part with the land under oath (literally, "far be it to me from the Lord," 21:3) shows that he does understand the covenant; the ancestral inheritance could not be sold in perpetuity, because the law was designed to prevent loss to foreigners like Jezebel (cf. Leviticus 25:8-17, 23-25; 27:16-25; Numbers 27:8-11; 36:1-12). The land ultimately belongs to the Lord, and it cannot be bought and sold, even by a king.
Naboth's firm refusal to negotiate leaves Ahab "resentful and sullen" (21:4; cf. 20:43). Like a child who cannot get the toys he wants, Ahab pouts; though powerful, he is not grown-up, and emotion distorts his judgment. Jezebel has a completely different idea of how a grown-up would act. Unencumbered by ideas of the covenant, she assumes the king could take what he wanted. Ironically, she manipulates royal power and the law of God (21:8-10), misusing the legal process to have Naboth punished for his good deeds. Even here, 1 Kings cannot let the irony of Jezebel's actions pass; the charge of blasphemy to be leveled against Naboth is euphemistic, literally "You have blessed God and the king," which is exactly what Naboth has done (v. 10).
Naboth's illegal execution (cf. Deuteronomy 16:18) clears the way for Ahab to seize his land (according to other traditions, the sons of Naboth were killed as well, so no legitimate heirs survived, cf. 2 Kings 9:26). Ahab's appropriation of the land was illegal under any circumstances (cf. Deuteronomy 17:14ff). That Ahab must "go down" from Jerusalem to take possession of the land in Jezreel next symbolizes his moral descent. The king of Israel has lowered himself to act as any other king, in the delusion that he was accountable to no one but himself.
Elijah, too, receives the command to "go down"; he would have to lower himself to reach Ahab's level (21:17-29). He is commanded to go to the "vineyard of Naboth," for God does not recognize the transfer of land. God's indictment and sentence (v. 19) is fulfilled later in the story (22:38), and Elijah further expands the judgment to apply to Ahab's entire dynasty (cf. 14:10-11; 16:3-4). In the illegal attempt to improve his summer house, Ahab has sealed the doom of his "house," his bloodline, which will be left for dog food. Note that Ahab is blamed for his wife's action; he is complicit for his inaction (Jezebel gets her own judgment, v. 23). Ahab has failed at a basic command of Torah: love your neighbor. In failing to recognize the relation between the land and the Lord, he has also failed at an even more basic command: worship only the Lord. As such, his failure is ultimate (cf. vv. 25-26), though there is always mercy in God's court (vv. 27-29).
Galatians 2:15-21
Paul's pr àcis of his message to the Galatians in 2:15-21 must be understood in light of his report on the origin of his work in 1:11--2:14. It must also be cleared of the cobwebs of a history of interpretation that while important theologically, skews a proper understanding of Paul's contribution to Christian tradition. This passage, however it has been used through the years, is about a very particular controversy, which had to do with the proper use of one of God's gifts: food. For Paul, eating is not just eating; it is connected to the very truth of the Gospel itself.
Paul skips the usual pleasantries with the Galatians to get to the heart of the matter: "I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel" (1:6). The "other gospel" which had tempted the Galatians was apparently the teaching of some Jewish Christians that even Gentiles needed to follow the rules of Torah to find acceptance with God -- in essence, that Gentiles would have to convert to Judaism in order to become Christian. Paul counters that his own teaching -- that the Gentiles are accepted through Christ apart from adherence to Torah -- is of divine origin (1:11-24). In fact, Jerusalem placed no restrictions on his ministry to "the uncircumcised" (2:1-10).
However, Peter and Paul came into conflict at Antioch over the subject of food (2:11-14). Jewish law demanded adherence to Kosher laws, not total separation from Gentile tables, but "certain people from James" demanded a fence around the Torah: no table fellowship with Gentiles (2:12). Such was their power that, according to Paul, not only Peter but Barnabas was swept into playing the game (v. 13). For Paul, this was not in line with the truth of the gospel (v. 14), but actually undermined the ministry to the Gentiles. Thus Peter stood "condemned" for making vain the work of Christ (v. 11; the NRSV translation "self-condemned" is entirely too lenient). How seriously Paul takes this breech is shown by his willingness to confront Peter publicly with such harsh language. The issue was not just who his dinner companions would be, but the very faithfulness of Christ.
Paul begins his assault by noting the depths of Peter's hypocrisy: up to a point, he was willing to forego strict adherence to table fellowship rules to sup with the believers in Antioch. His withdrawal from the table broke the bonds of Christian fellowship, since it would also mean withdrawal from the communal Lord's Supper. Since the only way to restore fellowship with the Gentiles would be to demand that they "Judaize" or "live like Jews," Peter was in essence asking the Gentiles to be better Jews than he was (v. 14). By attempting to keep fellowship with Jerusalem, he had nullified the faith of the Gentiles.
There is debate over whether Paul's speech to Peter continues into 2:15-21, or ends at verse 14. The problem is exacerbated by the lack of any conclusion to the episode with Peter in Antioch; we simply do not know how Peter responded, and how the matter was resolved (most scholars take this as an indication that Paul lost the dispute). When he says "We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners," clearly he is speaking from the point of view of Peter and Jewish Christians. By the time he gets to verse 18, he has reverted to the first person singular, "I," and he is no longer talking about Peter, but using himself as a prototypical example of every believer. Wherever we place the closing quotation marks, clearly Paul is setting up a segue: He is relating his speech to Peter, but he is beginning to talk directly to the Galatians as well. Verses 15-21 are a compressed summary of the entire argument of Galatians.
Paul's thought is further obscured by what a growing number of scholars see as a mistranslation and misunderstanding of his basic position. At issue is the phrase pistis Christou, literally "the faith of Christ." Traditionally this has been translated as "faith in Christ," i.e., human faith with Christ as the object. More likely it should be understood as "Christ's faithfulness," i.e., Jesus' own faith in God, and his faithful actions culminating in the cross (cf. vv. 20-21). The expression pistis Christou says more than "faith saves," but that "Jesus saves"; it indicates the primacy of Christ's work, not just our embrace of it. The best that can be said for the traditional translation is that it parallels the similar expression in verse 16, pisteuo eis Christou, "come to faith in Christ"; however, if it means the same thing, why would it be necessary to have a different expression? The more likely parallel is with the similarly constructed "works of the law," which no one suggests should be "works in the law." Despite a long tradition that identifies the "works of the law" as any human striving to reach God by good deeds, clearly in context it refers to the definitive community obligations of Torah: circumcision, kosher laws, and Sabbath observance. These "works of the law" are not the basis of salvation, Paul says, because in Jewish tradition they were not the means of entry into the covenant (which was a gift from God), but marks of continuation in it. With the faithful death of Christ, however, Gentiles are granted admission to the people of God, not through conversion to Judaism, but by the sole virtue of Christ's act of pistis, the "faith of Christ."
The faithful action of Christ brings about "justification" or "rectification," the state of being placed in right relationship to God. This is not only the formal acquittal of guilt, but being set on the right path by God. This happens not by any human virtue, least of all the "works of the law," but by Christ's own work. Paul reinforces his basic argument with a couple of arguments that address his dispute with Peter and the "people from James." First, the presence of "Gentile sinners" among God's people does not make Christ a "servant of sin" (v. 17). Second, for Paul to build up that which was already torn down (as he accused Peter of doing -- rebuilding the wall between Jew and Gentile) would be to make himself the sinner, since it would negate all that Paul has built his life on: The mission to the Gentiles would prove a flagrant violation of God's holiness, if we retain Torah observance as the standard of holiness (v. 18).
In contrast, Paul sets down four compact theses that summarize his position. First, "Through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God" (v. 19). For Paul, Torah itself played an active role in bringing him to new life, since it placed a curse on Jesus (3:13), thus separating Paul the believer from Torah. Second, "I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me" (vv. 19-20). Paul now lives through resurrection power (cf. Romans 6:1-13). Third, "The life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (v. 20, author's translation). The power of new life is supplied by the faithful act of Christ. Paul's fourth statement concludes, "I do not nullify the grace of God; for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing" (v. 21). In the end, it boils down to gift, or "grace." Those who insist that Gentiles observe Torah are in essence turning their backs on Christ's faithful gift.
Luke 7:36--8:3
Luke's story highlights both table fellowship and the use of God's gifts. In accepting the invitation to the banquet, Jesus was treating the Pharisee as he treated tax collectors and sinners -- Jesus would eat with anyone! The open banquet setting allows for the intrusion of an uninvited and unwelcome (to Simon) woman; that Jesus was reclining, banquet-style, allowed the woman access to his feet (7:36-38).
And what she did to those feet! Her actions are excessive by any standard. The costly perfume came in an expensive container. Her touching of Jesus and the unloosing of her hair hint at an inappropriate public sexuality (the nature of the woman's "sin" is often taken as sexual, though Luke does not specify). It was more than enough to set his proper host on edge.
But there is more here than meets the eye. Jesus proves what the Pharisee doubts -- that he is a prophet -- by reading the doubter's mind (vv. 39-40). He proves himself more than a prophet by offering the woman forgiveness of sin (vv. 48-50). The woman's own actions turn out to be something different from what Simon thought: rather than seduction, they embody the routine hospitality that Simon had withheld from Jesus (vv. 44-47; there is nothing in Luke to connect the anointing with Jesus' burial, as in the similar but apparently unrelated stories in the other gospels). Jesus' parable of the two creditors shows that those who have much to repent have much to be grateful for when it comes to receiving and sharing God's gift (vv. 41-43). The woman's actions showed the true state of her heart before God, just as Simon's refusal of hospitality showed his.
Coupled with this story is a Lukan summary statement, which parallels the hospitality extended by this unknown woman: Luke mentions several of Jesus' women disciples by name, delineating their contributions to his ministry. That they were disciples is shown by Luke's use of the verb "to serve," diakoneo, of their actions (cf. 4:39; 10:40; 12:37; 17:8; 22:26-27), as well as Luke's subsequent story (cf. 24:1-10). Their faithfulness to God is symbolized by their use of their own resources to subsidize the ministry of Jesus and the Twelve. Their names show that Jesus' influence reached from the otherwise unknown (Susanna), to high places (Joanna came from Herod's household). The mention of Mary Magdalene (whom Luke in no way connects to the woman with the ointment) foreshadows 23:49 and 24:10, where she will be one of the first witnesses to the empty tomb.
Application
Faith is rooted in the action of God, and shared by mere mortals. But God's faithfulness always dwarfs ours. If we have any credit to claim, it is only the credit of receiving a gift, and not trying to pawn it off, exchange it, or trade it for lesser treasures.
God is not a commodities dealer. Ahab's conception of the land of Israel, shared by his wife Jezebel, was at odds with covenant tradition. They failed to realize that the gift of the land was tied to the nature of God; it could not be revoked, any more than God could be bought or sold. This same sense of God's rock-steady faithfulness is found in Paul's contention that table fellowship and faith are one and the same, and to cede one is to cede all. Jesus, too, held that forgiveness of sins, embodied in a new approach to the use of God's gifts, cannot be dispensed according to conventional social mores, but is the sole province of a God who is willing to take all comers, no questions asked.
The land is the Lord's. Our gifts are not our own, by definition. To live any other way is to make God a convenience rather than the fount of being. To live by faith is to take each moment, each possession, and each breath as pure gift.
Alternative Applications
1. Luke 7:36--8:3. Women were disciples, too. Luke clearly presents women as disciples of Jesus in their own right. He never limited the number of disciples to twelve (cf. Luke 10:1; Acts 1:15), and was always careful to note the presence of women among them. That they had been with him all along is signified by the words of the two men in dazzling clothes to the women who first saw the empty tomb: "Remember how he told you ..." (24:7); since they are instructed to "remember," they must have been there to hear Jesus say it in the first place! Luke's depiction of women as full disciples of Christ stretches throughout his work. I, for one, have always been intrigued by the speculation that, in light of Luke's habit of pairing men and women (cf. Luke 2:25-28), one of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus might have been female -- who else would Cleopas have been walking with, but his wife? (Luke 24:13-35).
2. Galatians 2:15-21. To read pistis Christou as "the faith of Christ" in Paul's writings (here and in Romans) is a big step, not only because we may be loathe to base our faith on the little footnotes at the bottom of the page rather than the big print, but because it may seem like we are completely abandoning a long tradition about "faith in Christ." Far from it. For one thing, Paul had other expressions for "faith in Christ," and he did not hesitate to use them, when that's what he meant. Further, there has always been a danger that advocates of "salvation through faith in Christ" might take faith as yet one more accomplishment before God, as if the fact of one's faith (often seen as mere "belief") might make one acceptable to God. No -- the tradition that we are justified by faith alone does not make faith another step on the ladder climbing to God. The faith is Christ's, his faithful life and death offered to us and received as a gift. Human faith is not mere intellectual belief, but a complete and total commitment to a new way of life modeled on Christ's own. It is based on Christ's faithfulness, and an aspect of his resurrection power, mediated to us by the Spirit. We are saved by his act, not our own.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 5:1-8
There are several things in the course of a lifetime that have the power to cause us to question our faith. The first is probably personal suffering and loss. As we experience pain that there does not seem to be a reason for -- no obvious connection between our behavior and our suffering, it is hard not to ask, "God, why are you doing this? Where is your protecting hand?"
Next to our personal suffering, perhaps the next greatest challenge to faith is innocent suffering of others. After a massive earthquake in Lisbon in 1755 left thousands of people dead and many more suffering, the French philosopher Voltaire began to seriously reconsider the meaning of God. As we watch the worldwide AIDS epidemic or as we observe drought and famine in Africa or the poverty and disease of India, it is tempting to ask the classic question of evil: "If there is a God, and that God is good and all powerful, how can he let these things exist? He is either not good, not powerful, or does not exist at all."
In fact, evil itself can pose a serious challenge to our faith. Why do the wicked prosper while the righteous beg for bread? Why does God allow powerful people, acting out of self-interest and greed, to prosper over the weak? Why doesn't God come to our rescue and save us from these evil people?
The author of Psalm 5 is aware of these challenges to faith, in himself and in the lives of other worshipers. But instead of giving in to these challenges, the psalmist decides to push past them and embrace a stance of faith in spite of the challenges to it.
The psalmist portrays God as a careful and caring judge who is always fair and just. God as judge is ready and willing to hear the complaints of his people. The psalmist approaches and begins with his own pain: "Give ear to my words, O Lord, give heed to my sighing" (v. 1). The psalmist assumes that God is listening and God cares: "I plead my case to you, and you watch" (v. 3). The psalmist shapes his prayer around this assumption and offers his plea without hesitation.
Because the psalmist believes that God is fair, he chooses to remain patient in the face of the evil in the world. He believes that God "does not delight in wickedness" (v. 4) and that God "hates evildoers" (v. 5). While they may prosper for a moment, the justice and judgment of God will eventually right the scales and those who have worked against righteousness will perish.
For the psalmist's part, he chooses integrity. Even though he suffers, even though there is evil in the world that seems to go unpunished, the psalmist will not be distracted from the right path. Trusting that God will do what is right, and that God really does care, the psalmist believes that until matters are set right, the best place to be is on the side of right.
In this the psalmist does not ignore the problems of evil, nor does he try to explain them. He simply chooses to believe that whatever injustice and unfairness may exist in the world at the moment will not be the final state of things when God the righteous judge sets things right. His is a path of courageous faith. It is the path we are all called to travel.
"I'm selling my old videos on the Web," he said. "I've upgraded these movies to DVD, so I don't need the old versions anymore."
"Wait a minute," said the friend as he picked up a box off the stack. "Didn't I give you this one for your birthday?"
"Yes, and thank you very much," said the man, as he slipped that particular box off to the side.
It is widely considered to be in bad taste to sell gifts, even if they are in need of upgrading. Some people won't even exchange a gift at the store. Presumably, the gift-giver chose that gift for you, and it would be rude to second-guess generosity.
On the other hand, there is that whatsit that Uncle Al sent last Christmas....
"Gift" is used throughout the Bible to characterize the relation between God and humanity. It is the root meaning of the concept "grace" in the New Testament, and the foundation of the covenant in the Hebrew Bible. There is an inextricable tie between what we have been given and who we are before God. What we do with what we have measures our relationship with God; to deny this truth is inevitably to fall into idolatry.
This week's lections illustrate the connection between God and gift. In 1 Kings, faithfulness to God is measured by land assessment. In Galatians, our daily meals provide that measure. And in the Gospel of Luke, both eating and giving speak to human participation in the gift of God.
1 Kings 21:1-21a
The story of Naboth's vineyard is part of a larger narrative presenting two contrasting worldviews. On one side is Elijah the prophet, who, since chapter 18 of 1 Kings, has been locked in a deadly cat-and-mouse game with the enemies of the covenant. On the other side, ironically, is Ahab, king of Israel, and his powerful wife, Jezebel. 1 Kings blames Ahab's demise on the influence of his queen, a Baal-worshiper who did not understand that, unlike in her native Sidon, the king of Israel did not dictate law, but was subject to a higher law. The story of their fatal encounter with Naboth is sandwiched between accounts of Ahab's war with Aram, and explains Ahab's defeat in that holy war was due to his abuse of power as king.
The account is presented in two parts that represent the struggle between monarchy and prophecy: the king's story (21:1-16), and the prophet's story (21:17-29). The king's story establishes Ahab as one who neither understands nor practices the covenant; the whole chapter is an extended exposition on the commandment against covetousness. Naboth's vineyard was next to the king's summer palace in Jezreel, a cool, low-altitude getaway (18:44-45). That Ahab wants to replace the vineyard with a vegetable garden is symbolic, for the vineyard stood for Israel (Isaiah 3:13-15; 5:1-7; Jeremiah 2:21; 12:10; Ezekiel 19:10-14; Hosea 10:1), while "vegetable garden" summons images of slavery in Egypt (Deuteronomy 11:10; cf. 6:10-12; 8:8-10). The Promised Land was where vegetation would grow naturally, never in need of the artificial irrigation that Egyptian farms depended on. "Jezreel" actually means "God sows," or "May God make fruitful." But under Ahab, the inheritance of Israel would be seized by one who would plant and irrigate, rather than let God's blessing bloom.
Ahab's perfectly generous offer of compensation shows that he does not understand that the land is God's gift to the people, and not a commodity to be traded at will. Naboth's refusal to part with the land under oath (literally, "far be it to me from the Lord," 21:3) shows that he does understand the covenant; the ancestral inheritance could not be sold in perpetuity, because the law was designed to prevent loss to foreigners like Jezebel (cf. Leviticus 25:8-17, 23-25; 27:16-25; Numbers 27:8-11; 36:1-12). The land ultimately belongs to the Lord, and it cannot be bought and sold, even by a king.
Naboth's firm refusal to negotiate leaves Ahab "resentful and sullen" (21:4; cf. 20:43). Like a child who cannot get the toys he wants, Ahab pouts; though powerful, he is not grown-up, and emotion distorts his judgment. Jezebel has a completely different idea of how a grown-up would act. Unencumbered by ideas of the covenant, she assumes the king could take what he wanted. Ironically, she manipulates royal power and the law of God (21:8-10), misusing the legal process to have Naboth punished for his good deeds. Even here, 1 Kings cannot let the irony of Jezebel's actions pass; the charge of blasphemy to be leveled against Naboth is euphemistic, literally "You have blessed God and the king," which is exactly what Naboth has done (v. 10).
Naboth's illegal execution (cf. Deuteronomy 16:18) clears the way for Ahab to seize his land (according to other traditions, the sons of Naboth were killed as well, so no legitimate heirs survived, cf. 2 Kings 9:26). Ahab's appropriation of the land was illegal under any circumstances (cf. Deuteronomy 17:14ff). That Ahab must "go down" from Jerusalem to take possession of the land in Jezreel next symbolizes his moral descent. The king of Israel has lowered himself to act as any other king, in the delusion that he was accountable to no one but himself.
Elijah, too, receives the command to "go down"; he would have to lower himself to reach Ahab's level (21:17-29). He is commanded to go to the "vineyard of Naboth," for God does not recognize the transfer of land. God's indictment and sentence (v. 19) is fulfilled later in the story (22:38), and Elijah further expands the judgment to apply to Ahab's entire dynasty (cf. 14:10-11; 16:3-4). In the illegal attempt to improve his summer house, Ahab has sealed the doom of his "house," his bloodline, which will be left for dog food. Note that Ahab is blamed for his wife's action; he is complicit for his inaction (Jezebel gets her own judgment, v. 23). Ahab has failed at a basic command of Torah: love your neighbor. In failing to recognize the relation between the land and the Lord, he has also failed at an even more basic command: worship only the Lord. As such, his failure is ultimate (cf. vv. 25-26), though there is always mercy in God's court (vv. 27-29).
Galatians 2:15-21
Paul's pr àcis of his message to the Galatians in 2:15-21 must be understood in light of his report on the origin of his work in 1:11--2:14. It must also be cleared of the cobwebs of a history of interpretation that while important theologically, skews a proper understanding of Paul's contribution to Christian tradition. This passage, however it has been used through the years, is about a very particular controversy, which had to do with the proper use of one of God's gifts: food. For Paul, eating is not just eating; it is connected to the very truth of the Gospel itself.
Paul skips the usual pleasantries with the Galatians to get to the heart of the matter: "I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel" (1:6). The "other gospel" which had tempted the Galatians was apparently the teaching of some Jewish Christians that even Gentiles needed to follow the rules of Torah to find acceptance with God -- in essence, that Gentiles would have to convert to Judaism in order to become Christian. Paul counters that his own teaching -- that the Gentiles are accepted through Christ apart from adherence to Torah -- is of divine origin (1:11-24). In fact, Jerusalem placed no restrictions on his ministry to "the uncircumcised" (2:1-10).
However, Peter and Paul came into conflict at Antioch over the subject of food (2:11-14). Jewish law demanded adherence to Kosher laws, not total separation from Gentile tables, but "certain people from James" demanded a fence around the Torah: no table fellowship with Gentiles (2:12). Such was their power that, according to Paul, not only Peter but Barnabas was swept into playing the game (v. 13). For Paul, this was not in line with the truth of the gospel (v. 14), but actually undermined the ministry to the Gentiles. Thus Peter stood "condemned" for making vain the work of Christ (v. 11; the NRSV translation "self-condemned" is entirely too lenient). How seriously Paul takes this breech is shown by his willingness to confront Peter publicly with such harsh language. The issue was not just who his dinner companions would be, but the very faithfulness of Christ.
Paul begins his assault by noting the depths of Peter's hypocrisy: up to a point, he was willing to forego strict adherence to table fellowship rules to sup with the believers in Antioch. His withdrawal from the table broke the bonds of Christian fellowship, since it would also mean withdrawal from the communal Lord's Supper. Since the only way to restore fellowship with the Gentiles would be to demand that they "Judaize" or "live like Jews," Peter was in essence asking the Gentiles to be better Jews than he was (v. 14). By attempting to keep fellowship with Jerusalem, he had nullified the faith of the Gentiles.
There is debate over whether Paul's speech to Peter continues into 2:15-21, or ends at verse 14. The problem is exacerbated by the lack of any conclusion to the episode with Peter in Antioch; we simply do not know how Peter responded, and how the matter was resolved (most scholars take this as an indication that Paul lost the dispute). When he says "We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners," clearly he is speaking from the point of view of Peter and Jewish Christians. By the time he gets to verse 18, he has reverted to the first person singular, "I," and he is no longer talking about Peter, but using himself as a prototypical example of every believer. Wherever we place the closing quotation marks, clearly Paul is setting up a segue: He is relating his speech to Peter, but he is beginning to talk directly to the Galatians as well. Verses 15-21 are a compressed summary of the entire argument of Galatians.
Paul's thought is further obscured by what a growing number of scholars see as a mistranslation and misunderstanding of his basic position. At issue is the phrase pistis Christou, literally "the faith of Christ." Traditionally this has been translated as "faith in Christ," i.e., human faith with Christ as the object. More likely it should be understood as "Christ's faithfulness," i.e., Jesus' own faith in God, and his faithful actions culminating in the cross (cf. vv. 20-21). The expression pistis Christou says more than "faith saves," but that "Jesus saves"; it indicates the primacy of Christ's work, not just our embrace of it. The best that can be said for the traditional translation is that it parallels the similar expression in verse 16, pisteuo eis Christou, "come to faith in Christ"; however, if it means the same thing, why would it be necessary to have a different expression? The more likely parallel is with the similarly constructed "works of the law," which no one suggests should be "works in the law." Despite a long tradition that identifies the "works of the law" as any human striving to reach God by good deeds, clearly in context it refers to the definitive community obligations of Torah: circumcision, kosher laws, and Sabbath observance. These "works of the law" are not the basis of salvation, Paul says, because in Jewish tradition they were not the means of entry into the covenant (which was a gift from God), but marks of continuation in it. With the faithful death of Christ, however, Gentiles are granted admission to the people of God, not through conversion to Judaism, but by the sole virtue of Christ's act of pistis, the "faith of Christ."
The faithful action of Christ brings about "justification" or "rectification," the state of being placed in right relationship to God. This is not only the formal acquittal of guilt, but being set on the right path by God. This happens not by any human virtue, least of all the "works of the law," but by Christ's own work. Paul reinforces his basic argument with a couple of arguments that address his dispute with Peter and the "people from James." First, the presence of "Gentile sinners" among God's people does not make Christ a "servant of sin" (v. 17). Second, for Paul to build up that which was already torn down (as he accused Peter of doing -- rebuilding the wall between Jew and Gentile) would be to make himself the sinner, since it would negate all that Paul has built his life on: The mission to the Gentiles would prove a flagrant violation of God's holiness, if we retain Torah observance as the standard of holiness (v. 18).
In contrast, Paul sets down four compact theses that summarize his position. First, "Through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God" (v. 19). For Paul, Torah itself played an active role in bringing him to new life, since it placed a curse on Jesus (3:13), thus separating Paul the believer from Torah. Second, "I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me" (vv. 19-20). Paul now lives through resurrection power (cf. Romans 6:1-13). Third, "The life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (v. 20, author's translation). The power of new life is supplied by the faithful act of Christ. Paul's fourth statement concludes, "I do not nullify the grace of God; for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing" (v. 21). In the end, it boils down to gift, or "grace." Those who insist that Gentiles observe Torah are in essence turning their backs on Christ's faithful gift.
Luke 7:36--8:3
Luke's story highlights both table fellowship and the use of God's gifts. In accepting the invitation to the banquet, Jesus was treating the Pharisee as he treated tax collectors and sinners -- Jesus would eat with anyone! The open banquet setting allows for the intrusion of an uninvited and unwelcome (to Simon) woman; that Jesus was reclining, banquet-style, allowed the woman access to his feet (7:36-38).
And what she did to those feet! Her actions are excessive by any standard. The costly perfume came in an expensive container. Her touching of Jesus and the unloosing of her hair hint at an inappropriate public sexuality (the nature of the woman's "sin" is often taken as sexual, though Luke does not specify). It was more than enough to set his proper host on edge.
But there is more here than meets the eye. Jesus proves what the Pharisee doubts -- that he is a prophet -- by reading the doubter's mind (vv. 39-40). He proves himself more than a prophet by offering the woman forgiveness of sin (vv. 48-50). The woman's own actions turn out to be something different from what Simon thought: rather than seduction, they embody the routine hospitality that Simon had withheld from Jesus (vv. 44-47; there is nothing in Luke to connect the anointing with Jesus' burial, as in the similar but apparently unrelated stories in the other gospels). Jesus' parable of the two creditors shows that those who have much to repent have much to be grateful for when it comes to receiving and sharing God's gift (vv. 41-43). The woman's actions showed the true state of her heart before God, just as Simon's refusal of hospitality showed his.
Coupled with this story is a Lukan summary statement, which parallels the hospitality extended by this unknown woman: Luke mentions several of Jesus' women disciples by name, delineating their contributions to his ministry. That they were disciples is shown by Luke's use of the verb "to serve," diakoneo, of their actions (cf. 4:39; 10:40; 12:37; 17:8; 22:26-27), as well as Luke's subsequent story (cf. 24:1-10). Their faithfulness to God is symbolized by their use of their own resources to subsidize the ministry of Jesus and the Twelve. Their names show that Jesus' influence reached from the otherwise unknown (Susanna), to high places (Joanna came from Herod's household). The mention of Mary Magdalene (whom Luke in no way connects to the woman with the ointment) foreshadows 23:49 and 24:10, where she will be one of the first witnesses to the empty tomb.
Application
Faith is rooted in the action of God, and shared by mere mortals. But God's faithfulness always dwarfs ours. If we have any credit to claim, it is only the credit of receiving a gift, and not trying to pawn it off, exchange it, or trade it for lesser treasures.
God is not a commodities dealer. Ahab's conception of the land of Israel, shared by his wife Jezebel, was at odds with covenant tradition. They failed to realize that the gift of the land was tied to the nature of God; it could not be revoked, any more than God could be bought or sold. This same sense of God's rock-steady faithfulness is found in Paul's contention that table fellowship and faith are one and the same, and to cede one is to cede all. Jesus, too, held that forgiveness of sins, embodied in a new approach to the use of God's gifts, cannot be dispensed according to conventional social mores, but is the sole province of a God who is willing to take all comers, no questions asked.
The land is the Lord's. Our gifts are not our own, by definition. To live any other way is to make God a convenience rather than the fount of being. To live by faith is to take each moment, each possession, and each breath as pure gift.
Alternative Applications
1. Luke 7:36--8:3. Women were disciples, too. Luke clearly presents women as disciples of Jesus in their own right. He never limited the number of disciples to twelve (cf. Luke 10:1; Acts 1:15), and was always careful to note the presence of women among them. That they had been with him all along is signified by the words of the two men in dazzling clothes to the women who first saw the empty tomb: "Remember how he told you ..." (24:7); since they are instructed to "remember," they must have been there to hear Jesus say it in the first place! Luke's depiction of women as full disciples of Christ stretches throughout his work. I, for one, have always been intrigued by the speculation that, in light of Luke's habit of pairing men and women (cf. Luke 2:25-28), one of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus might have been female -- who else would Cleopas have been walking with, but his wife? (Luke 24:13-35).
2. Galatians 2:15-21. To read pistis Christou as "the faith of Christ" in Paul's writings (here and in Romans) is a big step, not only because we may be loathe to base our faith on the little footnotes at the bottom of the page rather than the big print, but because it may seem like we are completely abandoning a long tradition about "faith in Christ." Far from it. For one thing, Paul had other expressions for "faith in Christ," and he did not hesitate to use them, when that's what he meant. Further, there has always been a danger that advocates of "salvation through faith in Christ" might take faith as yet one more accomplishment before God, as if the fact of one's faith (often seen as mere "belief") might make one acceptable to God. No -- the tradition that we are justified by faith alone does not make faith another step on the ladder climbing to God. The faith is Christ's, his faithful life and death offered to us and received as a gift. Human faith is not mere intellectual belief, but a complete and total commitment to a new way of life modeled on Christ's own. It is based on Christ's faithfulness, and an aspect of his resurrection power, mediated to us by the Spirit. We are saved by his act, not our own.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 5:1-8
There are several things in the course of a lifetime that have the power to cause us to question our faith. The first is probably personal suffering and loss. As we experience pain that there does not seem to be a reason for -- no obvious connection between our behavior and our suffering, it is hard not to ask, "God, why are you doing this? Where is your protecting hand?"
Next to our personal suffering, perhaps the next greatest challenge to faith is innocent suffering of others. After a massive earthquake in Lisbon in 1755 left thousands of people dead and many more suffering, the French philosopher Voltaire began to seriously reconsider the meaning of God. As we watch the worldwide AIDS epidemic or as we observe drought and famine in Africa or the poverty and disease of India, it is tempting to ask the classic question of evil: "If there is a God, and that God is good and all powerful, how can he let these things exist? He is either not good, not powerful, or does not exist at all."
In fact, evil itself can pose a serious challenge to our faith. Why do the wicked prosper while the righteous beg for bread? Why does God allow powerful people, acting out of self-interest and greed, to prosper over the weak? Why doesn't God come to our rescue and save us from these evil people?
The author of Psalm 5 is aware of these challenges to faith, in himself and in the lives of other worshipers. But instead of giving in to these challenges, the psalmist decides to push past them and embrace a stance of faith in spite of the challenges to it.
The psalmist portrays God as a careful and caring judge who is always fair and just. God as judge is ready and willing to hear the complaints of his people. The psalmist approaches and begins with his own pain: "Give ear to my words, O Lord, give heed to my sighing" (v. 1). The psalmist assumes that God is listening and God cares: "I plead my case to you, and you watch" (v. 3). The psalmist shapes his prayer around this assumption and offers his plea without hesitation.
Because the psalmist believes that God is fair, he chooses to remain patient in the face of the evil in the world. He believes that God "does not delight in wickedness" (v. 4) and that God "hates evildoers" (v. 5). While they may prosper for a moment, the justice and judgment of God will eventually right the scales and those who have worked against righteousness will perish.
For the psalmist's part, he chooses integrity. Even though he suffers, even though there is evil in the world that seems to go unpunished, the psalmist will not be distracted from the right path. Trusting that God will do what is right, and that God really does care, the psalmist believes that until matters are set right, the best place to be is on the side of right.
In this the psalmist does not ignore the problems of evil, nor does he try to explain them. He simply chooses to believe that whatever injustice and unfairness may exist in the world at the moment will not be the final state of things when God the righteous judge sets things right. His is a path of courageous faith. It is the path we are all called to travel.
