24. Matthew 13:54-14:36 – Conflict Rising

Conflict on the Home Front (Mt.13:54-58)

The parables of ch.13 make as clear as possible to difference between Jesus’ kingdom movement and its competitors among the Jewish people. And his insistence upon the necessity of choosing and shaping one’s life entirely around his way is unmistakable as well. He comes next to his hometown “and they took offense at him” (v.57). However true it may be on a psychological or sociological level that “familiarity breeds contempt,” Matthew’s concern is theological. As St. John puts it, the Word came to his own but his own did not receive him (Jn.1:11) and Matthew gives narrative color to that maxim.

“Where did this kind come up with all this pompous and, well, arrogant or at least presumptuous proclamation?” We know him. His family too. He’s nothing special or not ant better than us, at least. And in those words Matthew voices the deep truth and scandal of the incarnation. A creature just like them (and us):

“Jesus was what we are.                                                                                                                                                 He grew up in a family and a society                                                                                                               troubled by the common problems of the world.                                                                                                         His knowledge was limited                                                                                                                                      his time and place in history.                                                                                                                                    He felt deeply the joy of friendship                                                                                                                         and the hurt of being rejected.                                                                                                                                Jesus prayed,                                                                                                                                                        struggled with temptation, knew anger,                                                                                                                   and was subject to suffering and death.                                                                                                                          He was like us in every way except sin.                                                                                                                   Jesus was what we should be.”[1]  

Yet, at the same time,

“We recognize the work of God in Jesus' power and authority.                                                                                        He did what only God can do.                                                                                                                                        We also recognize the work of God in Jesus' lowliness.                                                                               When he lived as a servant                                                                                                                                                   and went humbly to his death                                                                                                                                            the greatness that belongs only to God was manifest.                                                                                                 In both his majesty and lowliness                                                                                                                            Jesus is the eternal Son of God,                                                                                                                         God himself with us.”[2]

And that’s the truth and scandal everywhere Jesus preaches and is preached. We do no favor to the faith to downplay his humanity to (supposedly) enhance his deity or to de-emphasize the later to enhance the relevance of his humanity. His reality as truly both remains enigmatic and yet powerfully compelling if we allow both to have their say. Jesus hometown folks cannot do that. A microcosm of the country at large they rebuff and his message. And in the next scene Matthew narrates the picture gets even gloomier.

An Interlude on John the Baptist (Mt.14:1-12)

Following our typological scheme we have proposed Matthew is following we enter a new phase in this chapter. The Solomonic Jesus and the period of the united monarchy gives way to a divided kingdom period. Leithart expounds this relation:

“. . . with Matthew 14, the story of Jesus overlaps with the history of the dynasty of Ahab, the time of Elijah and Elisha. John is described as Elijah in the New Testament, and this chapter shows us how Elijah-like he was. Like Elijah, John confronts a wicked king. Like Elijah, John also has to deal with an apparently powerful and manipulative queen. Like Elijah, John is admired and feared by the king, but hated by the king’s court. Like Elijah, John is threatened by the king. Unlike Elijah, John is actually killed by the king. John is an Elijah who does not ascend to heaven in a fiery chariot. If John is Elijah, then Jesus is a new Elisha. Even Jesus’ name is like “Elisha’s”: both are built from the Hebrew verb for “save.” Jesus’ relation to John is like that of Elisha to Elijah. Elisha received the spirit of Elijah and was able to perform some of the same miracles that Elijah had done. Elisha got a double portion of Elijah’s spirit, the portion of the firstborn, and became the “chief prophet” over a community of sons of the prophets.”[3]

Herod has heard stories about Jesus and fancies him his old tormentor John the Baptist raised from the dead.  He had had John’s head on a platter for his birthday party when the Baptist was imprisoned for forthrightly critiquing his taking his brother’s wife as his own. Herod wanted to kill John but feared his people’s regard for him as a prophet (v.5). On the occasion of his birthday Herodias’ (the wife Herod took from his brother) daughter was dancing for the king[4] and pleased him so much that he gave her a blank check promise to do whatever she desired. And she wanted John’s head. Reluctantly, Herod acceded to her request and the deed was done. John’s disciples retrieved his body, buried it, and informed Jesus of it.

An Elisha-anic Feeding (Mt.14:13-21)

Jesus heads out to a more deserted setting at this news. But crowds found where he went and followed him there. This might have caused him consternation due to the episode with John which clearly foreshadows his own fate. Yet Jesus welcomes them and cures their sicknesses. But as the day grew late his disciples questioned him about supper for the crowd. Jesus tells them “You give them something to eat” (v.16).

Well, they must have been flabbergasted at that! In good faith and out of concern for the masses they brought Jesus a legitimate question. And Jesus affirms it legitimacy. It’s just how he intends to answer it that drops their jaws to the ground. “You give them something to eat.” And just how are we to do that with just five loaves and two fish? they ask him. Even more astonishingly, he tells them to bring this meager fare to him (v.18).

When someone from Baal-shalishah brought Elisha twenty loaves of barley and the prophet tell his servant to feed the 100 people there with it, he feels the same way Jesus’ disciples felt. Yet he lays out loaves before them and there was enough to eat and some left over as the Lord had promised (2 Ki.4:42-44).

The typological correspondence is patent as is the typical Matthean “there is a greater than” theme here. Jesus does a similar but greater than Elisha act of power here. He proves himself “more than a prophet” because he himself does for the 5000 what God did for the 100 in Elisha’s time.

Matthew styles this feeding in the imagery of the Eucharist of the early church. Jesus “looked up to heaven” in receiving the loaves and fish (thanksgiving), “blessed” them, “broke” them, and “gave” them to his disciples to give to the 5000. This imagery recalls that of the great messianic banquet for all in the presence of God in his kingdom. Having brought God’s kingdom (4:17), God’s New Exodus, Jesus is leading his people out of Egypt/Israel (see 2:13-15) and feeding them with New Manna on the way. But an even greater than that first manna is here as it points to the Eucharist and beyond that to the great kingdom banquet awaiting all creation!

Wright insightfully extrapolates the pattern of what we might call “Eucharistic service” here:

“This is how it works whenever someone is close enough to Jesus to catch a glimpse of what he’s doing and how they could help. We blunder in with our ideas. We offer, uncomprehending, what little we have. Jesus takes ideas, loaves and fishes, money, a sense of humour, time, energy, talents, love, artistic gifts, skill with words, quickness of eye or fingers, whatever we have to offer. He holds them before his father with prayer and blessing. Then, breaking them so they are ready for use, he gives them back to us to give to those who need them. 

“And now they are both ours and not ours. They are both what we had in mind and not what we had in mind. Something greater and different, more powerful and mysterious, yet also our own. It is part of genuine Christian service, at whatever level, that we look on in amazement to see what God has done with the bits and pieces we dug out of our meagre resources to offer to him.”[5]

`              Jesus Walks on the Sea (14:22-33)

As Jesus “ordered” (v.19) the crowds to sit in order to feed them, so here he “immediately . . . made the disciples get into the boat” (v.22) to depart while he sees the crowd off home. A storm blows up and threatens to swamp the boast and disciples. But “early in the morning” (the same time of day God threw Pharaoh’s forces into a panic and clogged the wheels of their chariots as they pursued Israel into the sea, Ex.14:24) Jesus walks toward them on the sea, a terrifying image to be sure, and the disciples imagine they are seeing a ghost. Remember Israelite fear of the sea and belief that it was the home of the demonic. Jesus reassures them by reaffirming his identity (in two senses). “It is I,” he says, “Jesus, your master and leader of the New Exodus movement you have embarked on. This Greek phrase can also be translated “I am” recalling the divine name God revealed to Moses at the burning bush. This is no mere human being, friend, and movement leader! There is much more to him than that.

Peter musters enough faith to ask Jesus to command him to leave the boat and walk to him. It is worth noting here that Peter requests Jesus to “command” him to do this. Just like Jesus “ordered” the crowds and “made” the disciples get in the boat. Peter, at least, seems to have taken this to heart and awaits Jesus’ sovereign order before trying anything so self-evidently foolish. His “if it is you,” is qualitatively different that the devil’s “If you are the Son of God” in the temptation stories. There, you remember, his intent was to get Jesus to act on his own agenda and become messiah in a demonic mode. Here Peter requests Jesus to invite him to come and share in God’s authority which Jesus shares and to which he himself is obedient.

And Jesus does, and Peter responds with what faith he has. But it is only a “little faith” (v.32) and before he gets too far he is frightened by the wind and waves swirling around him and Jesus has to save him from becoming fish food (v.31). Once all are in the boat, the sea calmed (v.32). Jesus admonishes their “little faith” after which the disciples worship him as, in truth, the Son of God (v.33).

It is worth comparing this story with its parallel in Mark (from whom Matthew presumably took it). Particularly striking is the change Matthew makes to the end of it. In Mark the response of the disciples to Jesus is a failure to understand what has happened and who he is (Mk.6:51-52). In Matthew, however, the disciples recognize who Jesus truly is and respond appropriately with worship (14:33). As Richard B. Hays writes:

“It is difficult to imagine a clearer illustration of Matthew’s didactic remolding of the tradition. Whereas Mark’s enigmatic story summons readers to awe-filled meditation on the mystery of Jesus’ identity, Matthew reimagines the water-crossing as a clear parable of Jesus’ relation to the church: the worship of the disciples anticipates and represents the worship eventually to be given to the Risen Lord, to whom all authority in heaven and on earth has been given.”[6]

The only one who can command wind and wave in the Old Testament in the Lord God as most dramatically portrayed in the Exodus account of the crossing of the sea. Thus, this is an Exodus story in which God rescues his people through the water. Jesus, here, is “Emmanuel,” the presence of God with his people. Hays is right, then, when he claims “it would appear that in and through these references to worshiping Jesus, Matthew is identifying him as nothing less than the embodied presence of Israel’s God, the one to whom alone worship is due, the one who jealously forbids the worship of any idols, images, or other gods.”[7]

As he enabled and accompanied his people through the waters of the sea at the Exodus, so he enables and accompanies his disciples on their New Exodus journey through this final crisis over “Israel’s identity and vocation. And so he will enable and accompany his church through the stormy seas it will encounter in its journey through history. That history has been, is, and will be till Christ’s returns, a cauldron of wind and waves, struggles and issues that constantly threaten to undo and become larger in our view than Jesus is. When this happens we lose heart, forget that we have taken a few steps on water (not literally, of course) in service to Christ) and end up crying out to be saved. And he is faithful to do it. And rebuke/encourage us to keep him central in our view as we journey on in faith.

C. S. Lewis has a wonderful image for this in his Narnia story Prince Caspian. The four children who originally found their way into Narnia through the magic wardrobe in the first story, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, are called back to Narnia by magic to help Prince Caspian claim his rightful rule of the land from a usurper, his uncle Miraz. As they try to make their way to join Caspian’s supporters the children face a decision about which way to go. Lucy, the youngest, see Aslan, the great lion and Christ figure, indicating the group should follow him down a path that appeared none to promising. None of the others see Aslan and despite Lucy’s pleading choose to try a seemingly more promising path. They run into an ambush, however, and have to retrace their steps ending the day back where they started. 

During that night Lucy hears her name being called and she follows the voice until she discovers Aslan waiting for her. After a joyful reunion, Lucy tells Aslan he seems bigger than he had been when the children were in Narnia earlier. He replies that he is not. But, he tells Lucy, every year you grow you will find me bigger than before. As did Peter after this experience of allowing the wind and waves to diminish his vision of Jesus there on the water. A quick glance at his first epistle reveals how a much bigger vision of Jesus impacted his response to the “wind and waves” that buffeted him in his later years!

Doubting (v.32) ultimately has to do with our vision of Jesus and how much we allow the debris of the world obscure or distort our vision of him. Lucy should have followed Aslan even if the others did not, he tells her. But she allowed the others’ objections to diminish her view of him and she gave in to their pressure. And she, like Peter, will not easily let that happen again.     

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[1] A Declaration of Faith, ch.4, par.2.

[2] A Declaration of Faith, ch.2, par. 3.

[3] Leithart, The Gospel of Matthew: 553-564.

[4] Leithart, The Gospel of Matthew: 587: Matthew calls Herod “’tetrarch,’ a term that originally referred to a ruler of a quarter of a kingdom but by the first century had come to mean a petty ruler who ruled a dependent state. Matthew’s term is dismissive. Herod the Great gained the title “king of the Jews” from the Romans, and Antipas might fancy himself a king. He is no king; he is a mere “tetrarch,” and his behavior is anything but royal.”

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[5] Wright, Matthew for Everyone”: 3495-3503.

[6] Richard B. Hays, Reading Backwards: Figural Christology and the Fourfold Gospel Witness (Kindle Locations 1149-1152). Baylor University Press. Kindle Edition.

[7] Hays, Reading Backwards: 1164-1166).