Category: Luke Chapter 13

Let us learn from these verses, how entirely our times are in God’s hands. Our Lord Jesus Christ teaches us this lesson by His reply to those who bade Him depart, because Herod would kill Him. He said, “I cast out devils, and I do cures today and tomorrow.” His time was not yet come for leaving the world. His work was not yet finished. Until that time came it was not in the power of Herod to hurt Him. Until that work was finished no weapon forged against Him could prosper.

There is something in our Lord’s words which demands the attention of all true Christians. There is a frame of mind exhibited to us which we should do well to copy. Our Lord, no doubt, spoke with a prophetic foresight of coming things. He knew the time of His own death, and He knew that this time was not yet come. Foreknowledge like this, of course, is not granted to believers in the present day. But still there is a lesson here which we ought not to overlook. We ought, in a certain measure, to aim at having the mind that was in Christ Jesus. We ought to seek to possess a spirit of calm, unshaken confidence about things to come. We should study to have a heart “not afraid of evil tidings,” but quiet, steady, and trusting in the Lord. (Psalm 112:7)

We see in these verses a remarkable question asked. We are told that a certain man said to our Lord, “Are there few that be saved?”

We do not know who this enquirer was. He may have been a self-righteous Jew, trained to believe that there was no hope for the uncircumcised, and no salvation for any but the children of Abraham. He may have been an idle trifler with religion, who was ever wasting his time on curious and speculative questions. In any case, we must all feel that he asked a question of deep and momentous importance.

There is a peculiar interest belonging to the two parables contained in these verses. We find them twice delivered by our Lord, and at two distinct periods in His ministry. This fact alone should make us give the more earnest heed to the lessons which the parables convey. They will be found rich both in prophetical and experimental truths.

The parable of the mustard seed is intended to show the progress of the Gospel in the world.

The beginnings of the Gospel were exceedingly small. It was like “the grain of seed cast into the garden.” It was a religion which seemed at first so feeble, and helpless, and powerless, that it could not live. Its first founder was One who was poor in this world, and ended His life by dying the death of a malefactor on the cross.–Its first adherents were a little company, whose number probably did not exceed a thousand when the Lord Jesus left the world.–Its first preachers were a few fishermen and publicans, who were, most of them, unlearned and ignorant men.–Its first starting point was a despised corner of the earth, called Judea, a petty tributary province of the vast empire of Rome.–Its first doctrine was eminently calculated to call forth the enmity of the natural heart. Christ crucified was to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness.–Its first movements brought down on its friends persecution from all quarters. Pharisees and Sadducees, Jews and Gentiles, ignorant idolaters and self-conceited philosophers, all agreed in hating and opposing Christianity. It was a sect everywhere spoken against.–These are no empty assertions. They are simple historical facts, which no one can deny. If ever there was a religion which was a little grain of seed at its beginning, that religion was the Gospel.

We see in these verses a striking example of diligence in the use of means of grace. We are told of a “woman which had a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together, and could in no wise lift up herself.” We know not who this woman was. Our Lord’s saying that she was “a daughter of Abraham,” would lead us to infer that she was a true believer. But her name and history are hidden from us. This only we know, that when Jesus was “teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath,” this woman was there. Sickness was no excuse with her for tarrying from God’s house. In spite of suffering and infirmity, she found her way to the place where the day and the word of God were honoured, and where the people of God met together. And truly she was blessed in her deed! She found a rich reward for all her pains. She came sorrowing, and went home rejoicing.

The parable we have now read is peculiarly humbling and heart-searching. The Christian who can hear it and not feel sorrow and shame as he looks at the state of Christendom, must be in a very unhealthy state of soul.

We learn, first, from this passage that where God gives spiritual privileges He expects proportionate returns.

Our Lord teaches this lesson by comparing the Jewish Church of His day to a “fig tree planted in a vineyard.” This was exactly the position of Israel in the world. They were separated from other nations by the Mosaic laws and ordinances, no less than by the situation of their land. They were favoured with revelations of God, which were granted to no other people. Things were done for them that were never done for Egypt, or Nineveh, or Babylon, or Greece, or Rome. It was only just and right that they should bear fruit to God’s praise. It might reasonably be expected that there would be more faith, and penitence, and holiness, and godliness in Israel than among the heathen. This is what God looked for. The owner of the fig tree “came seeking fruit.”

The murder of the Galileans, mentioned in the first verse of this passage, is an event of which we know nothing certain. The motives of those who told our Lord of the event, we are left to conjecture. At any rate, they gave Him an opportunity of speaking to them about their own souls, which He did not fail to employ. He seized the event, as His manner was, and made a practical use of it. He bade His informants look within, and think of their own state before God. He seems to say, “What though these Galileans did die a sudden death? What is that to you? Consider your own ways. Except you repent, you shall all likewise perish.”

Let us observe, for one thing, in these verses, how much more ready people are to talk of the deaths of others than their own. The death of the Galileans, mentioned here, was probably a common subject of conversation in Jerusalem and all Judea. We can well believe that all the circumstances and particulars belonging to it were continually discussed by thousands who never thought of their own latter end. It is just the same in the present day. A murder,–a sudden death,–a shipwreck, or a railway accident, will completely occupy the minds of a neighbourhood, and be in the mouth of every one you meet. And yet these very people dislike talking of their own deaths, and their own prospects in the world beyond the grave. Such is human nature in every age. In religion, men are ready to talk of anybody’s business rather than their own.