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The Feast of the Archangels
In yesterday’s post about the opening chapter of the Book of Job, we encountered an opening scene of the heavenly court of the Lord. Present were God, the son of God and the Satan. As noted yesterday, in the Old Testament they are the servants and attendants of God. To imagine them as angels, in the sense of later Christian theology, is probably an anachronism for the divine author of Job. Today is different. Today we celebrate the Feast of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael.
The date of September 29 originally marked the dedication of the Church of St. Michael in Rome built by Emperor Constantine. By the middle ages the day, known as Michaelmas, became a major celebration and a holy day of obligation in medieval Europe. For centuries, September 29 remained solely dedicated to St. Michael. Meanwhile, in 1921 Pope Benedict XV added universal feast days for the other two archangels named in Scripture: St. Gabriel on March 24 (the day before the Annunciation) and St. Raphael on October 24. During the liturgical reforms following the Second Vatican Council, Pope Paul VI combined the celebrations into our present celebration.
The Archangels
The Archangel Michael (who is like God) is biblically portrayed as a Protector and Warrior. In the Book of Daniel, Michael is described as “one of the chief princes” and the special protector of the people of Israel (Daniel 10:13, 12:1). In the Letter of Jude he disputes with the devil over the body of Moses, declaring “May the Lord rebuke you!” (Jude 1:9). Lastly, in the Book of Revelation, Michael leads the heavenly armies in a climactic battle to defeat Satan (the dragon) and cast him down to earth (Revelation 12:7-9).
The Archangel Gabriel (God is my strength) appears as the Messenger of God. In the Book of Daniel Gabriel explains prophetic visions to Daniel, specifically interpreting the vision of the ram and the goat, and predicting the timeline of the Messiah (Daniel 8:16, 9:21). In the Gospel of Luke He announces the upcoming birth of John the Baptist to the priest Zechariah (Luke 1:11-20). And at the Annunciation, Gabriel delivers the most famous message in human history to Mary, announcing that she will conceive and bear Jesus, the Son of God (Luke 1:26-38).
The Archangel Raphael (God heals) appears as Healer and Guide. In the Book of Tobit Raphael appears disguised as a human named Azarias to guide young Tobias on a dangerous journey. He protects Tobias and his new wife, Sarah, by driving away and binding the demon Asmodeus and he provides the instructions to cure Tobias’s father, Tobit, of his blindness using fish gall. He ultimately reveals his true nature by stating, “I am Raphael, one of the seven angels who stand and serve before the Glory of the Lord.” (Tobit 12:15).
Of course now we have to ask: who are the other four angels “who stand and serve before the Glory of the Lord”?
The Other Archangels
While the canonical Bible only names Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, ancient Jewish and early Christian traditions reference a council of seven archangels. The concept of seven chief angels is hinted at in Scripture such as the Tobit reference above but also when the Book of Revelation mentions the “seven spirits who are before his throne.“
The earliest and most influential list defining all seven archangels comes from the Book of Enoch (Chapter 20), an ancient Jewish text dating to the 3rd century BC. While non-canonical for most Western churches, it remains part of the official scriptural canon of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. Enoch names the remaining four as:
Uriel (Oriel): His name means “God is my light.” In apocryphal texts like 2 Esdras, he serves as an angel of wisdom who instructs prophets and guards the gates of Eden with a fiery sword.
Raguel: His name means “Friend of God.” Enoch describes him as the angel who “takes vengeance on the world of the luminaries,” acting as a celestial coordinator who ensures that other angels and cosmic laws remain in harmony.
Saraqael (Sariel / Zerachiel): His name means “God’s command” or “God has helped.” He is tasked with overseeing the spirits of humans who fall into sin, guarding against spiritual corruption.
Remiel (Ramiel / Jerahmeel): His name means “Thunder of God” or “Mercy of God.” He is designated as the angel responsible for those who rise from the dead, serving as a guide for holy souls awaiting resurrection.
At a later date, drawing upon ancient liturgies and the 5th-century writings of Pseudo-Dionysius, the Eastern Orthodox Churches, offered these as the name of the seven archangels: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel,
- Selaphiel (Sealtiel): “The Prayer of God,” depicted in icons with his hands crossed over his chest in a posture of deep, contemplative prayer
- Jegudiel (Jhudiel): “The Praise of God,” seen as the defender of people working in positions of leadership or spiritual responsibility.
- Barachiel: “The Blessing of God,” often depicted holding white roses or scattering flower petals, representing the distribution of divine blessings.
The Unnamed Archangels in Western Christianity
Both of these sources are “eastern” which raises the question of why the remaining four archangels remained “unnamed” in Western Christianity. In the early western Church, the popular naming of dozens of unbiblical angels led to a rise in folk magic, superstition, and unauthorized angelic worship. To curb this, Pope Saint Zachary enacted a decree at the Council of Rome in 745 AD. The Church officially banned the invocation of any angel names not explicitly recorded in the recognized books of Sacred Scripture. Consequently, the West restricted its official focus strictly to Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, leaving the other four hidden to history and folklore.
The reason for the ban was, in part, adherence to the canonicity of Sacred Scripture, an unhealthy aspect of angelology, but the “tipping point” leading to the ban was when St. Boniface reported to Rome the unauthorized preaching of Aldebert of Soisson, France. He claimed that the Archangel Raphael personally delivered a letter to him from Jesus authorizing his preaching, his evangelization (which amounted to a cult of personality) and a whole rash of actions. Adelbert’s most egregious act was his prayer: “I pray to you, angel Uriel, angel Raguel, angel Tubuel, angel Adinus, angel Tubuas, angel Sabaoc, angel Simiel…” When the Roman analyzed this list, the theologians recognized that apart from Uriel and Raguel several of the other names had distinct roots in Gnostic magic and occultism. The Church came to a chilling conclusion: Adalbert was not speaking to holy protectors; he was unknowingly (or knowingly) entering into pacts with demons. As a whole, his movement centered around a type of angelology that seemed to move certain angels into lateria worship, that due to God alone. While Boniface wanted him excommunicated, the local councils held him to be insane and removed him from public life.
Despite the Council of Rome’s 745 AD ban that removed him from official Catholic liturgy, Archangel Uriel maintained a vibrant presence in Western literature, art, and high culture. He did this by transitioning from a figure of strict religious dogma into a powerful symbol for humanists, poets, and Protestant traditions. During the Renaissance, European scholars became deeply fascinated by classical antiquity, Jewish mysticism (the Kabbalah), and early Christian texts. Because Uriel’s name translates to ‘God is my Light,” artists and humanists adopted him as the unofficial patron saint of the arts, sciences, and divine wisdom. In da Vinci’s masterpiece, Virgin of the Rocks, the angel guiding the infant John the Baptist alongside Mary is traditionally identified as Uriel, drawing from apocryphal legends.
When the Church of England broke away from Rome in the 16th century, it discarded many medieval Catholic decrees and recognized Uriel as the fourth Archangel, placing him right alongside Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. Across the UK and the United States, Episcopal and Anglican churches feature stained-glass windows of Uriel holding a solar orb or a scroll of wisdom. He is uniquely venerated within Anglicanism as the patron saint of the Sacrament of Confirmation, guiding the faithful into the light of spiritual maturity
In Paradise Lost, Milton, a Protestant, was completely unbothered by medieval Catholic bans. He cast Uriel as a major character, naming him the “Regent of the Sun” and the sharpest-sighted spirit in all of Heaven.
Probably more than you wanted to know, but interesting nonetheless!
Image credit: WordPress AI based on the text of the article
Matthew’s Vineyard
This coming Sunday is the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time. Much like Isaiah 5:1-2 (the reading from the OT accompanying our gospel), Matthew’s parable has a vineyard setting (also the preceding two parables: 20:1-16, the workers in the vineyard; 21:28-32, the two sons). What does the vineyard represent? In Isaiah it represents Israel and many have assumed that that is its meaning in the gospel parable, e.g., the vineyard = Israel; the tenants = religious leaders; landowner’s slaves = prophets whom they rejected. With this interpretation, we note that the vineyard is not destroyed, but turned over to new tenants. To use another biblical metaphor, the unfaithful, greedy shepherds are removed (Mt 9:36; Ezekiel 34) and new shepherds are installed to care for the sheep.
In Matthew’s gospel the vineyard takes on a broader, more universal meaning. Rather than simply, “Israel,” the vineyard is generally taken to mean the Kingdom of God. Remember that entry into the Kingdom was central in the closing warning in the parable of the Two Sons that immediately preceded our text.
Another theme that continues from the preceding parable is the importance of actions that reflect the value of the kingdom. The chief priests and elders of Jerusalem are criticized for a manner of living out their faith that is inconsistent with God’s call; they refuse to change their hearts in the face of the prophetic actions of Jesus. They understand that to acknowledge his authority means to abdicate theirs. They not only say nothing in response to Jesus’ question; they do nothing. As seen in the parable of the Two Sons, bearing fruit is expected of all disciples.
Image credit The Parable of the Wicked Tenants, Maarten Van Valckenborch, c. 1585, Kunsthistorisches Museum | Public Domain PD-US
The Accuser
The first reading today is one that often generates lots of questions. Here is the first reading and I suspect you can easily guess the types of questions:
“One day, when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, Satan also came among them. And the LORD said to Satan, “Whence do you come?” Then Satan answered the LORD and said, “From roaming the earth and patrolling it.” And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you noticed my servant Job, and that there is no one on earth like him, blameless and upright, fearing God and avoiding evil?” But Satan answered the LORD and said, “Is it for nothing that Job is God-fearing? Have you not surrounded him and his family and all that he has with your protection? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his livestock are spread over the land. But now put forth your hand and touch anything that he has, and surely he will blaspheme you to your face.” And the LORD said to Satan, “Behold, all that he has is in your power; only do not lay a hand upon his person.” So Satan went forth from the presence of the LORD. (Job 1:6–12)
- What is Satan doing in the heavenly court?
- Why is God letting Satan “go to town” on Job?
- Is this like a heavenly “bet” between God and Satan, almost akin to the gods of Olympus getting ready to torment some poor mortal?
As the first reading continues, we discover the way in which Job’s world is “coming apart at the seams.” But he never blasphemes the Lord. I always imagine it is with great resignation that Job simply says, “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I go back again. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD!” In all this Job did not sin, nor did he say anything disrespectful of God.” (Job 1:6–12)
The setting for the opening chapter is like an ancient monarch holding court. He is surrounded by the “sons of God.” In ancient mythology these were originally lesser divine beings, but in the Bible they are the servants and attendants of God. To imagine them as angels, in the sense of later Christian theology, is probably an anachronism for the divine author of Job.
Among the “sons of God” is not “Satan” but “the Satan” (haśśāṭān) This is not a proper name, as in later Christian theology, but rather describes an office and a function: “the adversary.” It is a fair question to ask if the Satan is a member of the heavenly court, an intruder, or a member of the court who seems to have been God’s investigative agent checking up on things around the world – or perhaps the investigating attorney. What is clear is that across the breadth of the Old Testament the Satan is not associated with diabolos. The context of uses in other places suggest that the best understanding of the use in Job is as “the accuser.” Then again, it is less clear who is being accused, Job or God.
As readers, we are aware of Job’s integrity; the text informs us that God is also aware of it, and in fact takes pride in Job (v. 8). The Satan is skeptical and, in front of the whole heavenly court, suggests that Job is virtuous simply because he gets something out of it. If Job were to lose all these blessings, what would he say then? He would flagrantly curse God. In the context of a shame culture, Yahweh’s honor is now involved and has a stake in the outcome. The Satan is allowed to put Job to the test, something he hastens to do.
What just happened? I’d suggest that the heavenly scene provides an open forum in which God permits the testing of Job. That is, the plan to test Job was not hatched in a secret meeting between God and the Satan. Rather it was decided openly before the heavenly assembly. In this setting Yahweh’s motivation, based on his complete confidence in Job, was fully known and thus it was above question. This is important, for the author has a doubly difficult task throughout his work: continually to characterize Job as innocent and not to characterize Yahweh as demonic or capricious.
Was this a wager? There are scholars who think so, but across Scripture, wagers tend to have a sum or prize to be handed over to the winner. The single issue at stake was the motivation for Job’s upright behavior and his fear of God. The Satan functions as God’s servant, solely an instrument in the testing and God is ultimately responsible for all that happens.
In the end, the Book of Job is a wonderful example of Wisdom Literature whose language and theme are common across the ancient Near East. It explores that enduring question and challenge of why bad things happen to good people. Take a moment to watch this video that offers several different insights about God’s response to Job.
Image credit: WordPress AI generated based on the text of the post
A Call for Change
This coming Sunday is the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Lectionary Cycle A. In this section of the Gospel according to Matthew we encounter Jesus in Holy Week amidst an on-going dialogue with the chief priests and elders. These folk are not happy with Jesus as just the day before he had upset the tables of the moneychangers in the Temple area. When Jesus returned to the Temple the following day, the leaders of Judaism were there with questions about the authority with which Jesus takes such bold and prophetic actions (and interrupts the commerce of the Temple).
Last week’s gospel (parable of the Two Sons) occurs in the shadow of Jesus’ question to the leaders about the bold and prophetic ministry of John the Baptist. Jesus asks “by what authority” did John baptize? Was it of heavenly or earthly origin? As mentioned in a previous post the leaders’ silence reveals their uncommitted reasoning leading to a lack of answer. They do not answer because they do not want the on-lookers to question their authority. Their silence is not to advance or retard the Kingdom of God, but to preserve the status quo. They will not change their status, their minds, or their hearts.
Embedded in the prophetic actions and calls of John and Jesus is exactly that – a call for change. The call for a change of heart comes from a heavenly authority. In their silence, the leaders abdicate not only their authority from “the chair of Moses,” but also their own entrance into the Kingdom.
Eugene Boring has pointed out that there is a strong structural parallel between the parables of the “Two Sons” and that of “The Lord’s Vineyard.”
| The Two Sons | Common element | The Lord’s Vineyard |
| 21:28a | Jesus’ introductory word | 21:33a |
| 21:28b–30 | The parable | 21:33b–39 |
| 21:31a | Jesus’ question | 21:40 |
| 21:31b | Their self-incriminating response | 21:41 |
| 21:31c | Jesus’ concluding pronouncement of judgment | 21:42–43 [44] |
Image credit The Parable of the Wicked Tenants, Maarten Van Valckenborch, c. 1585, Kunsthistorisches Museum | Public Domain PD-US
True Humility
“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted;” a familiar verse from Luke. But that doesn’t tell us what true humility is. Merriam Webster defines humility as freedom from pride or arrogance. That’s a start; it tells us what humility is not and by implication tells us what not to do in life. St. Bonaventure offered that humility is the guardian and gateway to all the other virtues. So, humility is important for being in this life and getting to the next.
St. Francis of Assisi says this of humility: for what a person is before God, that he is and no more. (Admonition 19). I like that saying – but it is more reminder than definition. I think we need to put some “meat on the bones,” something that will guide us into what to do or how to be.
Of course we could all take a moment and think of people in our life that we consider humble. We can consider the traits and characteristics of that person that makes us conclude they are a humble person – not just meek, shy, retiring or quiet, but humble. The Christian writer C. S. Lewis offers that: “True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.” I sat with that a while this week and came up with a list that might reflect Lewis’ thought. The list is not complete, but only a start.
- A humble person has lots to brag about, but he doesn’t boast. He or she might share accomplishments from their life, but for a purpose that has nothing to do with self-aggrandizement. The humble person is just as interested in your accomplishments.
- A humble person can be corrected because they know that life ever operates in the sphere of learning. As my dad would say, “Every man is your better because you can learn something from them.”
- A humble person serves willingly because the motivation is knowing that the one served will be better off.
- A humble person knows the difference between being a leader and being the boss.
- A humble person will choose gentleness before strength, will act the same with the poor and the rich, the young and the old, the friend and the foe – will act with compassion and purpose.
- The humble person pursues greatness. While one might be content in many things, the humble person is not content with their own character. The humble person always seeks greater wisdom, a deeper capacity to love, a balance, and a wholeness…or in our church lexicon – holiness.
- The humble person is in charge of their lives – even when they choose to follow, to be obedient, and take the path less desirable.
- Here’s one I think is very important. The humble person is condescending.
Did he just say, “condescending?” Yes, I did. When most people hear that word, they think of showing a patronizing or superior attitude toward others. But I am talking about the original meaning from the Latin condescendere – to come down so as to be with or to accompany or to serve.
The ultimate condescendere was Jesus being born as one of us. Coming from the Heavenly kingdom to, as St. John literally wrote, “to pitch his tent among us.” Jesus came down to serve us and to do so humbly. I think all of the characteristics of humility above – and more – apply to Jesus. In our second reading, the Letter to the Philippians (2:3-11), St. Paul writes:
Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but (also) everyone for those of others. Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus, Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.
Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.
Obedient to death – giving his life for our sins, for our salvation, paying the price – truly thinking not of himself, but of us. Sacrificing everything, never knowing if we would accept and embrace his gift of redemption. His humility to the plan of his heavenly Father brought Jesus to disgrace in the eyes of the power of the world.
Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
There you have it. Some thoughts on humility. Take some time today and make your own list on what it means to be humble and how you plan to walk through this life in humility. You have examples in the people you admire.. You have the testimony of the life of Jesus in Scripture. You have what you need to begin to change the way we think. Then what we think, becomes the words we speak. The words we speak become the actions of our lives. Those actions become our habits. Habits become character. Character becomes who we are as we stand before God. For we are that and nothing more.
Amen
Image credit: Parable of the Two Sons, Andrei Monorov, 2012 | CC BY SA 4.0 |
What Next?
This coming Sunday is the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time: 31 Which of the two did his father’s will?” They answered, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.
It seems that the tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you – at least the chief priests and elders are entering. But then there is a question how much is implied here by proagō, “go before.” There are a couple of possibilities:
- At a minimum it means a reversal of priorities, with the chief priests and elders admitted but only after the sinners have been welcomed in. In that case they must endure the humiliation of being led, “shown the way” (a possible sense of proagō; cf. 2:9) by those they have regarded as beyond the pale.
- But in 8:11–12 the fate of the “sons of the kingdom” was not merely demotion but exclusion, and while proagō normally implies that the other person will follow (cf. 14:22; 26:32; 28:7), in the wider context of Matthean statements about the future for Israel’s leaders many interpreters conclude that it implies here “get there first” and so “take the place of.” In the parable of 25:1–12 those who go in first enjoy the feast, but the door is shut before the others get there. And in 7:21–23 the fate of those who do not “do the will of my Father” is to be excluded from the kingdom of heaven.
- Exclusion is not explicit here, but it would be hazardous to argue from the choice of the verb proagō that here there is, unusually, hope for the ultimate salvation of those who have rejected God’s call—unless, of course, like the good son, they subsequently change their minds, and respond to the preaching of righteousness as the tax collectors and prostitutes have done.
32 When John came to you in the way of righteousness, you did not believe him; but tax collectors and prostitutes did. Yet even when you saw that, you did not later change your minds and believe him.
One should not forget that this parable is preceded by Jesus’ question about John the Baptist and from where came his (authority) to baptize. It is a remarkable testimony to the high view of John the Baptist in this gospel that whereas previously Jesus had condemned those who refused to believe and respond to his own message (11:20–24; 12:41–42), he now places rejection of John’s ministry on the same level.
Those previous denunciations were of unbelief in Galilee, where Jesus had himself been active. Our narrative is located in Judea, where according to this gospel’s story-line he has not previously been heard, and so he speaks now of John as his southern predecessor and “colleague”, to whose call Jerusalem had responded before he himself took up the mission in the north (3:5).
The repentance and its appropriate “fruit” which John demanded according to 3:7–10 matches closely the Matthean sense of “righteousness.” John came to show people how to live according to God’s will, and those who “believed” him repented and were baptized. They included especially the less respectable members of Jewish society, for whom repentance was an obvious need, and perhaps for that reason the chief priests and elders saw themselves as not in need of such “righteousness” as it was something they assumed they already possessed. The obvious and enthusiastic response of the common people should have caused them to change their mind later.
If they refused John’s call because they are unable to discern that John was “of God,” then it is not likely that they will attribute heavenly authority to Jesus.
Image credit: Parable of the Two Sons, Andrei Monorov, 2012 | CC BY SA 4.0 |
The answer… or at least an answer
This coming Sunday is the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time. This parable is about doing the will of God (v. 31). The question, “What is God’s will for my life?” is one that Christians often ask. However, answering that question with an unreflective “obeying God and working in the fields” too easily leads to an idea that one is able to work/earn one’s salvation. But then again, relying on faith alone can reduce action to a meaningless afterthought to one’s words.
The key to this parable is the word metamelomai. Although the NAB (Catholic Bible) translates it with the sense of changing one’s mind,” (vv. 29, 32) that is not the most literal understanding of this word. Usually the idea of “changing one’s mind” or “repenting” is conveyed by the Greek word metanoeo. One wonders if Matthew’s use of the word metamelomai points to something more subtle.
The prefix meta = “change” begins both words. The verb noeo is related to activities of the mind (nous). The verb melo has the sense “to care for,” so we might translate metamelomai as “changing what one cares about” or “to change what one is most concerned about.” – or desires. It could be that v.29 might be translated as: “He answering said, “I am not willing,” but later having a change of heart, he went.”
We might say of the religious leaders of v. 32, “They would not change their hearts” – or to use an OT phrase: “Their hearts were hard.”
31 Which of the two did his father’s will?” They answered, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.
The question that Jesus posed is now filled out: the chief priests and elders are required to adjudicate between the two brothers. For “doing the will of” God distinguishes mere profession from active compliance, and so here it suitably distinguishes between the attitudes of the two sons. Jesus’ question thus allows only one reasonable answer, which the Jewish leaders duly provide, but, like David in his response to Nathan’s parable (2 Sam 12:5–7), in so doing they provide Jesus with the ammunition he needs to mount an attack in v. 32 on their own inconsistency. First, however, he spells out its consequences.
The Jewish leaders (like the second son) claimed to be living in obedience to God’s law, and kept themselves strictly apart from those who (like the first son) made no such claim. It was Jesus’ interest in such “tax collectors and sinners” (Luke 15:1–2) which gave rise to another parable about two sons (Luke 15:11–32). In this gospel the “underclass” of Jewish society have also been described as “tax collectors and sinners” (9:10, 11; 11:19), and on two occasions the Jewish tax collectors have been even more dismissively linked with Gentiles (5:46–47; 18:17). The substitution of “prostitutes” here for either “sinners” or “Gentiles” gives an even more offensive comparison, especially in so male-dominated a society as first-century Palestine. These are the people whom the chief priests and elders most despise and most heartily thank God that they were not like (cf. Luke 18:11). They had no place in respectable, religious Jewish society — how much less in the kingdom of God. So when Jesus speaks not only of their entering God’s kingdom but also going in there first, he is making a no less radical pronouncement than when he spoke of Gentiles coming into the kingdom of heaven to sit with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob while the “sons of the kingdom” found themselves outside (8:11–12).
Image credit: Parable of the Two Sons, Andrei Monorov, 2012 | CC BY SA 4.0 |
Which of the two did his father’s will?
This coming Sunday is the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time. On a more technical note, the answer to the question depends on the text you read. There is considerable variation in the manuscripts (MSS) and other older texts for the form of the parable and the subsequent answer to Jesus’ question.
There are three main variants: (a) The first son refuses and then goes; the second promises and then fails; and the leaders approve the first. (b) The first promises and then fails; the second refuses and then goes; and the leaders approve the second. (c) The first refuses and then goes; the second promises and then fails; and the leaders approve the second. [There are cultures in which the very act of saying “no” to one’s father is a far greater offense than not doing what the father asks. But it is perhaps that both sons need to change.] Scott (Hear Then the Parable) suggests that both sons are wrong. Scott frames it in the sense of honor — a son who publicly says “no” to his father is shaming his father.
When the parable hearer is asked to choose between the two sons, a dilemma arises. Both sons have insulted the father, one by saying no, the other by saying yes but doing nothing. But one comes to the family’s aid by going into the vineyard and upholding family solidarity, while the other maintains the family’s good name by appearing on the surface to be a good son. Would the father choose to be publicly honored and privately shamed, or publicly shamed and privately honored? In the first century C.E. that is not much of a choice. The real question is with which one he would be more angry. But in being forced to choose, he must choose between the apparent and the real, between one who appears to be inside the family and one who appears to be outside. [p. 84]
That being said, the third variants [c] has the Jewish leaders approving words rather than deeds. This puts them in a bad light even before Jesus comments on their behavior, and it may have been for that reason that some scribes and translators preferred this reading that makes the Jewish leaders speak in the very way that Jesus will charge them with having acted. But this last option can hardly have been the original intention of the story, since Jesus’ response does not challenge their answer, but rather charges them with not having lived up to it. Their reading of the story, he implies, is right, but their correct thinking is belied by their actual behavior. The reading as translated in our text is agreed by most commentators to represent the original form of the story and response.
Image credit: Parable of the Two Sons, Andrei Monorov, 2012 | CC BY SA 4.0 |
The Parable Of The Two Sons
This coming Sunday is the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time: 28 “What is your opinion? A man had two sons. He came to the first and said, ‘Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.’ 29 He said in reply, ‘I will not,’ but afterwards he changed his mind and went. 30 The man came to the other son and gave the same order. He said in reply, ‘Yes, sir,’ but did not go. 31 Which of the two did his father’s will?”
When Jesus asks what the leaders think (21:28) one has to hear the question in the context of their previous refusal to answer a question about the person and ministry of John the Baptist. Jesus does not allow their previous strategic silence to pass into obscurity. Since the new question is about characters in a story, it is indirect, and the leaders cannot avoid answering it. Their own answer will likely expose the weakness of their human authority.
Matthew, more than the other gospels, has an emphasis on deeds (or bearing fruit). Long (Matthew) points out this emphasis:
This parable is, in its own way, a narrative depiction of Jesus’ earlier statement in the Sermon on the Mount “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my father in heaven” (Matt. 7:21). [p. 243]
The short parable of the Two Sons emphasizes that deeds are more important than words. On one level, this short parable addresses the church/synagogue tension present in Matthew’s community. The synagogue were the people who had said “Yes” to God, but who had failed to go and work. They were not doing God’s will. The church, especially with “sinful” Jesus and Gentile converts, were those who originally had said “No” to God, but who had changed their minds/hearts and did what God had asked.
However, related to this is the warning that even the church, who are now people who have said “Yes” to the Messiah, could become those who say the right words, but fail to act on them. It is a parable and warning for the people of faith then as well as today.
Image credit: Parable of the Two Sons, Andrei Monorov, 2012 | CC BY SA 4.0 |
After Hearing the Word
Every Mass is quite remarkable: God speaks to us. We listen to readings from Scripture. At the end, the lector says, “The word of the Lord,” and we respond, “Thanks be to God.” Then the priest will begin a homily. I am often tempted to then simply ask: “Now what? We’ve heard God’s word…. And now what?”
The Gospel is clear: the family of Jesus “are those who hear the word of God and act on it.” (Lk 8:21). Given the context, some think it sounds as Jesus is distancing himself from Mary and his family. But especially in Luke’s Gospel, that can’t be the point. Mary is the exemplar of one who hears God’s word and acts on it. At the Annunciation she completely disrupts whatever plans she had imagined for her life and responds: “May it be done to me according to your word.” (Lk 1:38). Mary lets the Word change her life.
Today’s Gospel comes at the end of a whole series of teachings about hearing. Jesus has just told the Parable of the Sower. The seed is the Word of God. Some seed falls on the path, some among rocks, some among thorns. But the seed that falls on good soil represents those who hear the Word, hold onto it and bear fruit. Then Jesus tells his disciples: “Take care, then, how you hear.” (Lk 8:18) And finally today Jesus is clear that the family of Jesus, that is, disciples “are those who hear the word of God and act on it.” Jesus seems to be saying that hearing is incomplete until something happens afterward.
And Proverbs makes essentially the same point in our first reading: “To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the LORD than sacrifice.” (Prv 21:3) Notice the word: “do”. Not merely know what is right or admire it, or talk about it, but “do.”
Think about all the Scriptures we have heard: the Beatitudes, the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, and more. We know Jesus tells us to forgive, care for the poor, love our enemies, not to judge and to take up our cross and follow him. We’ve heard the Word. We understand what Jesus said….and now what? What happened after I heard Him say it? When was the last time something I heard in Scripture actually changed something I did?
When Jesus spoke about forgiveness, did we finally make the telephone call we’d been avoiding? When Jesus spoke about the poor, did I become more generous? When Jesus spoke about loving our enemies did we begin praying for someone we dislike? When Jesus spoke about so many things, did we stop judging, stop gossiping, say “please forgive me?” That’s the difference between simply hearing Scripture and allowing the Word of God to become fruitful within us.
There is an interesting line in in the first reading from Proverbs: “Those who shut their ears to the cry of the poor will themselves call out and not be answered.” (Prv 21:13) Again, notice the ears. Perhaps hearing God’s Word also teaches us who else we need to hear: the lonely, those needing help or compassion. Maybe even the person who is trying to tell us something about ourselves that we would rather not hear.
We can hear the Word of God proclaimed beautifully in church and still walk outside and close our ears to the people the Word asks us to love. Jesus doesn’t simply say: “Blessed are those who hear.” He says: “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it.”
In a few moments, we will come to this altar and receive Christ in the Eucharist. And then, at the end of Mass, we will be sent out. We will have heard the Word of God. We will have received the Body of Christ. Then we will walk through those doors and return to our families, our work, our neighborhoods, our ordinary lives. And perhaps that is when today’s Gospel really begins. Because the question isn’t simply: “Did I hear the Word of God today?” The question is: “What will I do differently because I heard it?”
Image credit: Sermon on the Mount | Carl Block, 1887 | Museum of Natural History at Frederlksborg Castle – Hillerod, Denmark | PD-US
