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Luke 4:1-44

I’ve recently written a few comments and spoken some on Luke 4, so I don’t feel the need to rehearse all that I’ve already said. But for the sake of clarity, let me say at least one thing again… Luke 4 is less about giving us instructions on how to deal with temptation, and way more about who this Jesus is.

One thing that I didn’t mention either in the message, nor very explicitly in the earlier post, is that Israel is sometimes spoken of as being God’s son (Hosea 11:1, Exodus 4:22, possibly Psalm 2:7). One might argue that connecting Jesus’ sonship to the sonship of Israel somehow lessens its force as it relates to our understanding of Jesus’ divinity. That is to say that when Israel was called “God’s son,” no one made the mistake of thinking Israel was divine. Why take the son language about Jesus to do so?

In response, I would argue that the connection between “Son of God” language used for Israel and Jesus doesn’t lessen our understanding of who Jesus is. Rather, it is enhanced. The remainder of the New Testament makes clear that Jesus’ is the Son of God in a way that no one ever has been or could be again. Jesus’ relationship with God the Father is unique. In fact, one can say fairly confidently that the point of Luke 4:1-13 is to say precisely that! Jesus is God’s son in a way that Israel never could be.

But Luke 4 probably isn’t speaking into the Jewish world only. As Luke’s gospel is taking shape, there are others in the Roman world that would make a rival claim to being the “son of God” and divinity. Various Roman emperors would refer to themselves in those terms, and require others to do the  same. So it may well be that Luke is simultaneously addressing the Jewish and pagan worldviews of his day.

In essence, the message Luke is putting across in these first few chapters is “Jesus is God’s one and only true son.”

Luke 3:1-38

We’ve switched back to John’s part of the story, and we find him in the Judean wilderness – the countryside around the Jordan River. This doesn’t just give us information about where he is, but also where he isn’t. This renewal movement isn’t happening in the religious and political (not easily separated) center of the nation, but away from it.

Furthermore, he is tapping into a long held hope of the Jewish people that God might manifest himself by returning to be with them and restore them. This preparation to which John is calling his country men and women is one of repentance and ritual cleansing. A few things in particular stand out about his call to repentance… 1) There is a sense of urgency about his proclamation. 2) John is issuing this call to his own people. They have failed at something and he is calling them to prepare themselves for the coming of the Lord. 3) The notion that not just the Jews will benefit when Yahweh comes to be with them, but “all nations” even if they need to raised up from “stones.”

And as the King returns, so also his kingdom. And in this kingdom, a new (old?) ethic of concern for their fellow man is the standard. Issues of charity, honesty, and integrity are promoted out of a desire to see “righteousness/justice” for all.

Luke’s record of Jesus’ baptism is the shortest in the gospels. Perhaps this is due to its being part of a larger narrative addressing the question of “Whose son is Jesus?” This is certainly the point of the genealogy that immediately follows. Matthew’s genealogy traces Jesus’ ancestry back to Abraham, presumably to highlight Jesus as the long awaited Jewish Messiah. Luke, on the other hand, follows his lineage all the way back to Adam and God. This way of following Jesus family tree is a dramatic way of bringing one to the conclusion affirmed in the last words of the chapter. Jesus is “the Son of God.” However, by taking Jesus ancestry back beyond Abraham, it seems likely that this is another way Luke is evoking the “This Jewish Messiah will be for all people” refrain.

Luke 2:1-52

It is difficult to come at Luke 2 with anything other than the serene picture many of us carry around of the “silent night” of the first Christmas Eve. And yet, this passage is replete with subversive undertones. It is this upsetting of expectations that provides the subtext of the entire chapter.

The census that Rome mandates isn’t the benign form we are familiar with in 21^st century America. A census in the ancient world was taken to figure out what various subject regions “owed” the Empire. It was an intrusive reminder that they were a people oppressed by a foreign power. They weren’t free to determine their own steps.

And yet, little does Rome know that there is a Power far greater at work even in and through their attempts to exert imperial authority. God’s purposes and promises have been slowly and quietly unfolding over centuries. So as Caesar Augustus’ decree moves a small “insignificant” family to the father’s ancestral home of Nazareth, God’s promise of an eternal dynasty from the line of David is coming to fruition this small town. The question that lingers is “who is in control?”

The birth itself is rather unremarkable, “the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger.” Even more unremarkable are those that welcome the savior into the world… shepherds. Not power brokers. Not religious elite. Not even respectable middle-class citizenry. Just common shepherds. The subversive question here is “who really matters?”

Even something as simple as presenting young Jesus at the Temple turns into a chance to see the Messiah with fresh eyes. The young family is greeted by two old faithful Jews, both of whom were eagerly looking forward to the one who would save Israel. And yet, the brief exchange between old and young records a cryptic prophecy concerning not just salvation for Israel but all people. Perhaps even more disconcerting would have been Simeon’s words about the “falling and rising of many in Israel” and the “sword that will pierce” Mary’s soul in some way. The question here would be “Is the mission of the Messiah really what we have thought it to be all along?”

The story of tween Jesus lost in Jerusalem for three days only to be found in discourse with the religious academics poignantly carries the subversion of expectations motif forward. When Mary finds him, she scolds him in the way that most any mother would, “Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” And yet, Jesus’ response is perhaps the beginning of the soul-piercing spoken of a few verses earlier, “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” While I don’t think this is an example of Jesus copping a pre-pubescent attitude, the question posed here (as well as the next couple chapters) is “Exactly whose son is this?”