Original Meaning

JESUS NOW TURNS to a brief discussion of the kingdom he brings. Since his miracles testify to his authority, what exactly does his rule look like? His remarks are important in light of a Jewish expectation that the kingdom would come all at once and with great power. The parable of the mustard seed (vv. 18–19) and the parable of the yeast (vv. 20–21) make fundamentally the same point, that the kingdom starts out small but will eventually cover the whole earth.1 Jesus compares the kingdom to a mustard seed that is sown in a garden and becomes a tree where birds can reside in its branches.2 The image of a tree that shades the birds comes from Ezekiel 17:22–24, where the great, promised Son of David is a source of deliverance to his people. The image also contrasts with Daniel 4:10–12, where the great tree of Nebuchadnezzar ends up as a stump. The growth of the tree in the parable is portrayed as inevitable and amazing. What the Jews expected to come all at once will grow gradually into greatness.

The parable of the yeast is similar. Here the point is the permeation of the presence of the kingdom. Jesus picks a huge amount of flour for the illustration: three seah (almost fifty pounds). A pinch of yeast eventually permeates the entire loaf. This too is inevitable. What starts out as an insignificant movement will cover the whole earth in the end.

Jesus tells these parables to call for trust. He is building the kingdom, and people should trust God that it will come, even though the movement starts out looking so insignificant. God’s plan is advancing; his kingdom will come.3 Nothing will stop its coming in fullness.

The parable in 13:22–30, though filled with conceptual parallels elsewhere in the Gospels, is unique to Luke.4 It serves as a warning to Israel. Since the kingdom is coming, people should respond now, before the door closes. Many of those originally invited, descendants of those to whom the original promise came, will miss the blessing if they do not respond. There is nothing more tragic than being close to God’s blessing and then missing out.

Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem.5 Someone asks him if only few are going to be saved. Perhaps he senses that Jesus’ rebukes of Israel mean that salvation will not be as automatic or as based on genealogy as some had thought. The Jews expected that the faithful in the nation would experience God’s blessing, and faithfulness was considered a given for most born in the nation.6 Jesus’ reply makes it clear that this man’s suspicion is correct.

Jesus exhorts his audience to “make every effort to enter through the narrow door.” The verb “make every effort” (agonizesthe) speaks of laboring to get in. This implies that there is a specific route by which to enter; that is why Jesus mentions a narrow door and sets forth what it is.7 Those who fail to enter by that door, even though they desire to get in, will not succeed. Once the door is shut, it will be too late. For individuals, the door shuts at death—if not before, because of the hardness of one’s heart.

The banquet image looks at the time after Jesus returns, when those who trust in him are gathered to share in the celebration of salvation. There are no post facto opportunities. Those who seek to enter late will be told by the Lord that he does not know where they are from, and they will be denied access. In other words, entry comes through the means Jesus provides or not at all.

The appeal to enter into the banquet late is based on the fact of having seen Jesus, eaten with him, and heard him teach (v. 26). But the reply is emphatic. The doorkeeper (who represents Jesus) will reply that he does not know them and will tell them to depart as “evildoers.” Outward contact with Jesus counts for nothing; what he desires is an inward response.

The end result is “weeping” and “gnashing of teeth,”8 a sense of pain and frustration at having missed the moment. Though their birth made them excellent candidates, they did not respond and have missed the blessing. What is especially painful is seeing the fathers of the faith—Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all the prophets—but not being able to sit at the table with them. Many will come from every direction to feast with them, but some who have had the greatest opportunity will miss the blessing. This alludes to a shift in fate for those in Israel and those in the nations, so that the last become first and the first become last (v. 30). This final theme of the parable is common in the Gospels (Matt. 19:30; 20:16; Mark 10:31). The effect of Jesus’ remarks has altered the theoretical nature of the original question to a practical level. The question, “Will the saved be few?” has become, “Will the saved be you?”

In 13:31–35 Jesus warns the nation by mentioning the city that represents her, Jerusalem. In a style reminiscent of the prophets, he argues that judgment for her is inevitable.9 Jesus has issued multiple warnings that have gone unheeded, so now God will discipline his chosen people. The punishment will last until the nation, considered as a whole, recognizes God’s representative. Many in Israel did hear Jesus and respond to him, but the vast majority, including many of those responsible for the nation, did not. The principle here is not unlike the one in Kings and Chronicles, where the fate of the nation is patterned after the king’s righteousness.

Verse 31 opens with the Pharisees warning Jesus that Herod is seeking to kill him. The remark is significant, because it shows that Jesus has caught the attention of the leadership. It may also provide a way for the Pharisees to rid themselves of Jesus without doing anything that places culpability at their feet. The threat of Herod’s executing Jesus could eliminate the nuisance of Jesus’ call for repentance if he flees to save his life. While their statement looks like one of concern, it is really expedient.10 They have been consistently portrayed as doubting and challenging Jesus, so to have them now looking out for his welfare is totally out of character.

Jesus replies by stating that he will complete his mission. Nothing will stop him. So they are to tell “that fox,” that is, the one who wants to destroy Jesus,11 that he will continue to exorcise demons, heal people, and then complete his task. He must go this way, since a prophet cannot perish outside of Jerusalem. Death is not to be avoided, but is the pivot point in his ministry. Jesus’ presentation of himself as a “prophet” underscores his function as the revealer of God’s will. Just as God at the Transfiguration told the disciples to “listen to him,” now he asserts his prophetic mission to Israel. In rejecting him they are rejecting the call of God through him.

Then comes Jesus’ lament. The emotion and pain of his declaration is noted from the start with the double address to the city, like David’s cry over Absalom (2 Sam. 18:33). Jesus’ pain comes from realizing the privilege of Jerusalem’s position as representative of the nation in contrast to the history of her response in killing and stoning the prophets. Jesus speaks in the first person for God, as is typical of a prophet, and explains how he has longed to care for and protect Jerusalem as a hen cares for her chicks (Deut. 32:11; Ruth 2:12; Ps. 17:8; Isa. 31:5). Is there be a more tender image than this? However, the chicks did not want to stay in the nest, an allusion perhaps to the nations’ lack of desire to be gathered again before him in the protective care of his salvation.

The result is the isolation and freedom from God’s will that those in Israel desired when they refused to enter into his tender care. One of the tragedies of rejecting God’s will is that people get what they ask for, including the dire consequences. Their house will be left desolate. The image of the desolate house recalls the painful era of exile (Jer. 12:7; 22:5). The nation and its citizens face abandonment to their own weak devices. Such desolation will remain until a large majority in the nation recognize the blessedness of the one “who comes in the name of the Lord”—words taken from Psalm 118:26 (cf. Luke 3:15–16; 7:18, 22). In this psalm, the people at the temple recognized the king and his entourage as they sought to enter the temple. Until Jesus garners such acceptance, the nation is at risk. They must recognize Jesus as the figure the Baptist announced and the one whom God has been attesting to through his works. The word “until” suggests that though this judgment is serious, it is not forever.12 If the nation of Israel turns, God will again take them under his wings.

This event is a major turning point in the Gospel, for Jesus will now concentrate on teaching his disciples rather than addressing the nation. They have made their decision and sealed their fate.

Bridging Contexts

THE NATURE OF kingdom growth is an important theme. Jesus describes how the rule of God through him will manifest itself from its small inception to its grand consummation. Though it has already begun (11:20), the kingdom and its promises extend into the future and look to the day when peace through the presence of the king will be complete.

As Matthew 13 indicates, this growth is part of the “mystery” about the kingdom, fresh revelation that makes clear how the presence of his rule will proceed. God is expressing his authority and distributing the benefits of life through the community he is forming. Though only a few gathered around Jesus in the first century, today we see a large and overarching community of Christ’s followers. Yet even the church today is only a part of what is still to come.

Combining the imagery of the mustard seed with the imagery of the yeast presents a picture of the penetration and expansive presence of God’s rule on earth. Jesus emphasizes how the presence of God’s authority among his people becomes more extended as his Spirit moves to draw more people into his saving care. The crucial point about growth is not numbers in the church or power in the culture, but a declaration about the protective presence of a caring God.

To reflect on the image as one of God’s presence among the growing community of the saved means that texts like these should not be misapplied into thinking that the church brings in the kingdom. The kingdom is bigger than the church and is directed by God as a place where “birds can nest.” It emphasizes the care of God in providing salvation and a place of righteousness and peace. The final manifestation of the kingdom requires the Lord’s return, an event whose timing is a sovereign secret. Yet since the days of Constantine the church has struggled with her identity by thinking a text like this is a call to exercise increasing power. The way of discipleship, however, is the way of service and sacrifice. The church is not called to the sword or to power but to service (Mark 10:35–45). Whenever the church has confused these two, it has had disastrous results. God will bring a transformation into our world at the time of Christ’s return. Until then we must minister in faithful service to the believing community and to society at large as a testimony to the love and care of God. We can do so with the confidence that God’s plan will advance no matter what we face.13

The parable of 13:22–30 has a specific context in mind—the danger that those in Israel will miss the blessing they have been awaiting for centuries. In a directly applicable sense, Jesus addresses the Jews, the descendants of the patriarchs. So this text most directly continues to address Jews, asking them to consider whether they are open to entering through the “narrow door” Jesus provides.

But in principle, the text suggests other applications. One can be so close to the promise of God and yet miss it. This can manifest itself in a variety of ways. People in the church can assume that because they have been born into an attending family, they are in and will automatically receive God’s blessing. Like Jews who thought it was mostly a matter of heredity and cultural heritage, some call themselves Christian, not because of any faith commitment, but because of a family connection, a denominational affiliation, or cultural contact with Christianity, a contact that may express itself by attendance at church twice a year (at Christmas and Easter).

While in Scotland, I attended the local church in my village of eight hundred people. Sunday attendance was usually about thirty-five people, most over the age of fifty and several of whom were Americans. But twice a year the church held communion service. In that church a person had to attend one of these services to keep their name on the church roll. Those weeks had triple services, as almost everyone in town showed up. This kind of cultural commitment to the church is not a relationship with Jesus. It is a tragically erroneous assumption to think that a mere formal connection to him means that one will celebrate with him in the end.

More subtle still is to assume that because a culture is “Christian,” all born into that culture have an automatic relationship to God. Being personally proximate to the hope of the gospel does not put you in. Entry through “the narrow door” means responding personally to Jesus. The danger of getting close but not responding is that you end up outside the table of fellowship forever. Thus, this passage crosses the ages, either directly by addressing Jews or indirectly by addressing any who are close to God’s promise without being in. Association with a church or having relatives who attend church is not enough. God does not save us through our activity, through heredity, or by proxy.

What allows this general principle to be made is the reality of the judgment to come and the basis on which such judgment will be made. The central issue is knowing Jesus, not just having casual contact with him. To know Jesus means to trust him to deliver us, to open up a life that interacts with him as a part of day-to-day living. Those who only have mere contact with the believing community must be encouraged to see if they know him and have experienced forgiveness through faith in the living Christ.

Luke 13:31–35 deal with events that have already taken place. The ministry of Jesus met its key turning point in the cross as Jesus accepted his fate on behalf of humanity. He did just what he said he would do, with all the courage and resolve it took to die a suffering, martyr’s death. He did not back off his call simply because it was dangerous. In turn, the nation met its fate of desolation in the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70. They still await deliverance and their Messiah, having suffered much in the interim. The realization of what Jesus says here indicates the trustworthiness of God’s promises and the certainty of his plan. The rest of what he promises—a day of glory that includes the descendants of the patriarchs—will also come to pass.

Contemporary Significance

THE PROGRAM OF God’s kingdom gives us hope. His plan does not proceed by accident but by design. It is comforting to know that the kingdom can be pictured as a place of repose, for it offers rest to those who share in it (Matt. 11:28–30; Heb. 3–4). We must not be fooled by the seeming obscurity of the origins of this community, since God is behind its growth.

Describing the kingdom this way should result in a greater trust of God’s direction. What he presents is a community that offers protection until its task is done. Some argue the church, as a part of the kingdom program, is an irrelevant or unimportant institution; yet to God it is a most precious community, where he is actively providing his presence and care (Eph. 1:23). The resources of world power may be located in other quarters today, even given the size to which the church has grown. But when the time comes, God will reveal the commitment he has to the fullness of the kingdom’s promise and to its people as he exercises his authority over all the earth through the extension of its presence in the era to come. Those who know Jesus are a part of its history, heritage, and growth.

In the meantime, the kingdom is present in a more “hidden” form today. It does not manifest the fullness of power that it will possess one day, nor is its call to any one nation, party, or human institution. Rather, the kingdom is found wherever God’s people are found. Its power is revealed in the effective transformation of lives that serve as a testimony to the living God (Rom. 14:17–18). To “manifest” the kingdom’s presence is not to build buildings or pass laws, but to honor God with a quality of life that is directed powerfully in the transforming work of his Spirit. If God’s people have any priority, it should be the commitment to live, relate, and serve in a way that honors him.

Luke 13:22–30 issues a warning. People should be sure they have responded to the one who brings in the kingdom. It is easy to think we automatically qualify—by birth, by cultural connection, or by heritage. But to Jesus, a relationship with God requires personal appropriation on the path Jesus has set (John 1:12).

This principle is fundamental in a culture that argues that there are many ways to God, as if the road to heaven is a complex interstate highway system, which offers dozens of routes and interchanges. Jesus uses a more focused image, the narrow and soon-to-be-shut door. For Israel as a people, the door was shut in a significant way with her judgment in A.D. 70 (19:41–44). That did not close off all Jews, nor does it mean the door remains shut to that nation forever (see Rom. 11:12, 14–15, 26–27, which argues for a future return of faithfulness for them). Yet it was a turning point in God’s plan.

The door remains open individually for everyone. It is an equal-opportunity road, with access to all who will take it; but the route is marked out by God, not by us. Though in our hearts we may want God to take in everyone, that is not what Scripture teaches. He wants people to consciously enter into relationship with him, aware of their sins and shortcomings, their need for God, and the salvation Jesus has achieved for them. To respond to God is to respond to the one he sent to pave the way for life through his death. John’s Gospel calls him “the gate for the sheep” (John 10:7). Those who have ears must hear what Scripture says about those who want to experience God’s blessing.

Another implication in this text comes from the questioner’s theoretical question about everyone else, “Are only a few people going to be saved?” There is nothing wrong with such a question, but often it is asked to turn attention away from oneself. Jesus takes our theoretical questions and personalizes them. As interesting as the question is of whether God will save the lost in far away places, a more fundamental question for all of us to answer is whether we have a relationship to God. Jesus challenges each one of us where we stand with God.

According to 13:31–35, nothing will block God’s plan from taking place. Herod thought he could remove God’s agent. The Jewish leadership thought they could remove him by making him aware of a threat on his life. Similar efforts at intimidation often appear in our culture today.14 Listen to how an African-American Yale law professor states the dilemma so well for American culture:

Contemporary American politics faces few greater dilemmas than deciding how to deal with the resurgence of religious belief. On the one hand, American ideology cherishes religion, as it does all matters of private conscience, which is why we justly celebrate a strong tradition against state interference with private religious choice. At the same time, many political leaders, commentators, scholars, and voters are coming to view any religious element in public moral discourse as a tool of the radical right for reshaping American society. But the effort to banish religion for politics’ sake has led us astray: In our sensible zeal to keep religion from dominating our politics, we have created a political and legal culture that presses the religiously faithful to be other than themselves, to act publicly, and sometimes privately as well, as though their faith does not matter to them.…

Yet religion matters to people, and matters a lot. Surveys indicate that Americans are far more likely to believe in God and to attend worship services regularly than any other people in the Western world. True, nobody prays on prime-time television unless religion is a part of the plot, but strong majorities of citizens tell pollsters that their religious beliefs are of great importance to them in their daily lives. Even though some popular histories wrongly assert the contrary, the best evidence is that this deep religiosity has always been a facet of the American character and that it has grown consistently through the nation’s history. And today, to the frustration of many opinion leaders in both the legal and political cultures, religion, as a moral force and perhaps a political one too, is surging. Unfortunately, in our public life, we prefer to pretend it is not.15

Efforts to try to thwart the presence of religious truth abound. They range from cries that Christianity is outdated and on the way out to attempts to bully and threaten Christians in Third World countries, where persecution is overt and martyrdom is a real possibility. Whatever results through the social and political process, God’s ways will not be thwarted. For the Christian, there is often victory in seeming defeat, a point the church desperately needs to remember in an era where the appearance of victory may only be an apparition. Some of the strongest testimonies we have to God’s faithfulness comes from accounts of those who have stood faithful in the midst of persecution—stories that often encourage the saints. With such stories come accounts of people drawn to Christ from among the former persecutors as a result of their watching such a stirring stand for the Lord.

We often treat the battles in our society as life and death matters, where we must win from the standpoint of appearance or “all is lost for righteousness’ sake.” But Jesus’ death has already brought the way to life, regardless of the specific environment we are asked to function in. Victory is ours no matter what happens in the world. The point is important, not as an excuse to withdraw from engagement in society, but to encourage the engagement with the right perspective on what victory is. Victory comes in faithfully representing him, not in winning the argument or vote. Jesus’ own life is the model here. No level of intimidation or rejection could keep him from completing his appointed rounds.

Another application that emerges from this passage involves the Jews. Though most of Israelite descent stand at a distance from God’s activity in Christ at the moment, the nation has not been removed permanently from the hope of finding blessing in Christ. When they acknowledge Jesus as the one whom God sent, their house will no longer be desolate. In their recovery will stand a monument to God’s faithfulness, which will have stretched out over several millennia. Luke does not address when this will happen, but the “until” of verse 35 suggests the day will come (cf. also Acts 3:18–22; Rom. 11:12–32).16

Finally, Christ’s compassion should be noted. His is not the heart of a figure who loves and desires revenge. Israel’s error is painful, and Jesus suffers as he issues his warning. Judgment is not relished, but its reality must still be declared. Here is a heart that is worthy of emulation as we stand in the midst of a sometimes hostile world.