Where to Start a Study of the Parables?
There are parables scattered throughout the Gospels. There is also no authoritative list of precisely what a parable is and what it is not. Take Mat. 9:16 as an example. “No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old cloak, for the patch pulls away from the cloak, and a worse tear is made.” Is this a sermon illustration or a parable? It fits the broad definition of a parable, but functions more like an illustration. Given the ambiguity, I decided to begin with Mat. 13. In the Gospel according to Matthew, this is the first time the word “parable” is used. It is here that Jesus introduces us to the parable as a specific teaching tool. He explains their function and even offers interpretations for two of the parables in the chapter. It seemed like a logical place to begin.
Matthew 13 is also a carefully constructed chapter that is obviously complete within itself. It is made up of seven parables with a very brief eighth summary parable at the end which is about those who teach parables. Four of the parables are taught to the crowds while three of them are taught exclusively to the disciples. This structure of seven subdivided into four and three is significant. All these numbers are symbols of completeness or perfection. Four is the number of earthly perfection, three of heavenly perfection, and seven, being the sum of four and three, is the consummate number of overall perfection. Once this organizational structure is discerned it also becomes clear that the first four parables deal with what the kingdom of heaven looks like from the outside while the latter three parables deal with inner workings of the kingdom of heaven. It is therefore clear that the structure is not accidental.
But we will not begin with verse 1. Rather, we will jump ahead to verse 10 where Jesus offers an explanation of parables. His first parable was clearly mysterious to the disciples. They wonder why Jesus is speaking in riddles. They wonder what these riddles mean. Because of their questions in response to the first parable, Jesus offers the following explanation.
The Purpose and Meaning of Parables (Mt 13:10-17)
10 Then the disciples came and asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” 11 He answered, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given. 12 For to those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. 13 The reason I speak to them in parables is that ‘seeing they do not perceive, and hearing they do not listen, nor do they understand.’ 14 With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah that says:
‘You will indeed listen, but never understand,
and you will indeed look, but never perceive.
15 For this people’s heart has grown dull,
and their ears are hard of hearing,
and they have shut their eyes;
so that they might not look with their eyes,
and listen with their ears,
and understand with their heart and turn—
and I would heal them.’ [Isa. 6:9-10]
16 But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. 17 Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.
+ + + + + + +
Parables are designed to reveal the Gospel to those prepared and able to hear while hiding it from those who are not (v. 11). Why would Jesus want to keep hidden these kingdom teachings? Because “from everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded” (Lk 12:48). Receiving the teachings of the Kingdom requires obedience. The parables are therefore a means of protecting those who are not yet prepared to travel the difficult path of the Kingdom of God.
But parables are not only a merciful veiling of the truth, they are also a judgment upon those that “seeing they do not perceive, and hearing they do not listen, nor do they understand” (v. 13). In other words, the revelation of the Gospel of God comes as righteousness to those who are prepared to hear (that is, those who hear and obey enter into right relationship to God), while that very same message is perceived as wrath for those who hear and are unwilling to accept it (Rom 1:17, 18). (I have written an excursis on the meaning of righteousness and wrath in Romans 1, for those interested in the subject.) So it is that God, as a consequence of his love, veils his living message so that the truth of the Gospel does not utterly alienate those not yet ready to gladly hear and receive.
On the face of it then, receiving these words from God may seem more trouble than the teachings are worth, what with God hiding these words from some people and putting the burden of responsibility on those who hear. What if I don’t live up to God’s expectations? What if I’m like the people Isaiah talked about, dull heart, hard of hearing and having my eyes shut? These concerns don't take seriously enough the goodness and mercy of God. The reception of this gift is not a burden, but a precious and valuable gift. “For to those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance . . .” (v. 12). This dynamic is introduced in Jesus’ first parable. But before we get to the first parable, an excursis into the world of Reformed theology is necessary because this is the framework from which most Protestants read the scripture.
Grace, Faith, Works, and Responsibility
As we begin to consider Jesus’ teaching in the parables, the dissociation of faith and works typical of Protestant thinking is revealed to be deeply problematic. According to scripture, works without faith are not pleasing to God and can never bring us into union with God, but at the same time faith requires works. “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you?” (James 2:14). When we read James 2 we discover that the answer to this rhetorical question is, “No.” Faith, in and of itself, cannot save us. As James says a few verses later, “Even the demons believe—and shudder” v. 19).
At this point it needs to be observed that Protestantism has created a paradox of faith and works.
The problem goes back to Martin Luther. When Luther is considered in his historical context, his
rejection of works is both understandable and necessary in order for him to overcome the
Medieval abuses of Rome. But his doctrine of grace alone and faith alone have led to a
separation—no, more than a separation—a bifurcation of faith and works that results in a popular
understanding of faith being good and works being bad. It is true that the New Testament teaches
works cannot save us, but at the same time it teaches that salvation is hard work. Jesus never
teaches that he removes all burdens, labor, and effort from the struggle of salvation. On the other
hand, he claims that “my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Mt. 11:25). If one accepts the
Protestant faith/works paradox, Jesus’ parables are reduced to enigma. This is, no doubt, why
Protestant theology considers the apostle Paul’s writings the crown of the canon and then makes
Jesus’ teachings in the parables subservient to a Protestant interpretation of Paul. But, if we step
back from the interpretive difficulties and consider this ordering of things from the broader
sweep of New Testament thought, this approach is clearly backwards.
But even if this proposal is accepted, we face the difficulty of language use. “Works” is a bad word for Protestants and when someone uses “works” and “salvation” in the same sentence, even ex-Protestants lime me tend to shudder. How do we then speak in terms of salvation being hard work without immediately falling into the pervasive faith/works dichotomy of Protestantism? There is no simple solution to this dilemma. So in order to proceed a few basic principles need to be made clear.
- Salvation is God’s gift. Apart from God we are utterly lost and without hope.
- Salvation, as a gift from God, can only be incorporated by faith.
- We have no merit that we can offer to God. Even if we live a perfect life from this moment forward, that perfection would not be meritorious in God’s sight.
- Merit and works are different. When Protestants speak of works, they typically are referring to merit and not works.
- Works cannot save us, but neither can there be faith if it is not embodied in works.
- The above two observations can be rephrased in the following manner: Saving faith has nothing to do with merit although one cannot have saving faith without working it out in our everyday lives, or embodying it in works.
- There is no fear in love. Any effort involved in working out our salvation does not grow out of fear, but rather gratitude for the gracious gift that God has given us.
Hopefully these working principles will overcome any false sense of my earning my own salvation, but will give us the latitude to speak of effort and human involvement in the process of salvation as it is described in the parables.
Copyright © 2006 James E. Nelson (Just Another Jim). All Rights Reserved.
You are free to distribute as long as attribution and web address is included.
Site support by C T E K