Luke 11
ABSChapter 11. The Parables of Human Destiny(Part 1)The four parables which we group together in this chapter present a striking view of human destiny. The first represents the destiny of the worldling in this life, up to the hour of death; the second, the fruitless professor, up to the close of life; the third, the use of present opportunities to prepare for eternal destiny; and the fourth, the contrasted destiny of the worldling and the saint in time and eternity.
Section I: the Rich Fool
Section I—the Rich FoolLuk_12:16-21This parable represents the character and destiny of the man of the world, up to the close of the present life. How vividly we see in this picture the restless, grasping spirit of avarice, of seeking to add to its possessions, and seemingly unsatisfied with all its gains. Even more emphatically the picture reveals the godlessness of worldliness. He omits from all his plans the very thought of God, or His sovereign will and omnipotent control of our very life and all we can call our own. “This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I’ll say to myself, ‘You have plenty of good things laid up for many years’” (Luke 12:18-19). The first mention of God in the parable is when He steps in upon the scene, and the two short words, “But God” (Luke 12:20), turn to confusion and dissolve to nothingness all the vain and self-sufficient plans of human selfishness. We see also in this miserable worldling the utter selfishness of the spirit of the world. While there is no grateful recognition of God or thought of pleasing or serving Him, neither is there any desire or purpose to use his wealth for the happiness and good of others. He regarded it as all his own, and he proposed to enjoy it by himself and for himself. “You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry” (Luke 12:19). He had taught his soul no higher pleasure than that which sensuality affords, and fed its immortal needs on things of earthly nature. There is nothing said about his vices or crimes. He is simply a worldling, seeking and successfully finding for a time, his portion in the things of earth, and binding them to his bosom as his idols, his ends and his supreme enjoyments, with no sense of God and no regard for higher obligations, either to his Maker or to his fellow man. How terrible, even here, the issue of such a life: the sudden summons of the last inevitable messenger; the awful disappointment at the loss of every earthly thing; the fearful message of a God that he has never recognized or loved; the irresistible separation of his soul from all its treasures, and its naked and terrified appearance before the eternal tribunal; and the bitter consciousness that all he has labored for and hoped to enjoy is to pass to others, who will, perhaps, not even thank him, and to be irretrievably lost forever to him and to all the higher ends for which he might have consecrated them. It is a lost life, all the more terrible because he had so much to lose. Someone has sarcastically remarked of such a man at his death, “How much has he left?” And the answer, bitter as wormwood and hopeless as despair is, “He has left all.” He had nothing but his gold, and with the loss of that, he has nothing left. Dr. Johnson once said to his friends, as he looked at the wealth and splendor of an earthly estate, “Ah, Boswell, these are the things that make death terrible.” The vision of the eternal does not pass in through the curtains that hide the future. Just a momentary glance we get that indicates the desolate spirit passing beyond, and casting one lingering look of horror on all that he has lost and left behind. But the eternal side is reserved for the later parables. Enough for the present that we fully realize the earthly wreck and the mortal side of the sad picture—the desolation and despair of the soul that has invested everything in money, and sees his house of sand collapse in a moment in ruin and despair. The parable is chiefly intended to show the utter transitoriness of earthly things: the certainty and suddenness of their loss; the bitter disappointment which their loss will bring; the folly and shortsightedness of those who have no other treasure and hope; and the wickedness of those who, as the Lord expressed it, live to lay up treasure only for themselves, and are not rich toward God. At the same time there is a solemn intimation of the life beyond for which the soul has made no provision, where it must eternally reap the consequences of its shortsightedness and sin.
Section II: the Barren Fig Tree, or the Destiny of Fruitlessness
Section II—the Barren Fig Tree, or the Destiny of FruitlessnessLuk_13:6-9While the rich fool represents the worldling, the fruitless fig tree represents the nominal Christian, as well as the Jewish nation for whom, of course, it was primarily intended. It is not enough that we should be planted in His vineyard, and even watered by His grace and care. The only ultimate test of reality and ripeness is fruit. Long the husbandman bears with the empty branches. Patiently he waits, and seeks by careful culture to cherish the decaying life and save the fruitless tree from destruction. Lovingly the interceding Savior pleads for the faithless one, and renews the influences of His grace and Spirit—digging about its roots by trial, and seeking to fertilize them by the influences of truth, and the blessed Holy Spirit. But at last there is a limit, and even the Savior will plead no more. Love must not betray itself by displacing and injuring others for the sake of one that will not improve its opportunities. The fruitless tree cumbers the ground. It not only wastes the soil and the space of the vineyard, but disfigures it, overshadows others, and brings reproach upon the gardener. So at last, the word goes forth, “Cut it down”; and the intercessor raises no pleading voice against the fatal blow. The Results So Jerusalem was cut down in the days of captivity. So again, the fruitless tree that Jesus and His disciples so patiently labored to nourish into life and fruition, fell before the Roman armies. So the Master threatened the churches of Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis and Laodicea with His judgment stroke. And so each individual soul that proves faithless to its trust, neglects its opportunities, and wastes the rich grace of a loving Savior in selfishness and negligence, shall be put aside from the place of privilege and opportunity, and summoned to the judgment of the unprofitable servant. How solemnly, sometimes, comes the stroke of death to the unfaithful Christian. And although, perhaps, the soul may not be hopelessly lost, yet it is dragged away with the awful sense of lost opportunities, neglected truths, forfeited rewards, and the disapproval at last of the Master to whom it had pledged its undivided love and service. How sad and bitter the departing cry, Must I go, and empty handed, Must I meet my Saviour so? And how wise the solemn question, And shall I thus the Master meet, And at the awful judgment seat, Bring nought but withered leaves?
Section III: the Prudent Steward, or the Wise Use of Present Opportunity to Prepare …
Section III—the Prudent Steward, or the Wise Use of Present Opportunity to Prepare for Future DestinyLuk_16:1-12This is a very remarkable parable, requiring delicacy of discrimination in interpreting it so as to avoid confusion and error. The steward, in this case, had been guilty of unfaithfulness in his trust, and in consequence was about to be dismissed, and lose his present home and situation. But at the last moment, finding his impending danger, he displayed a spirit of remarkable prudence and forethought in taking advantage of his remaining days of opportunity to make provision for the future, and secure friends and a home when he should be turned out of his present situation. We are told that the Lord commended the unjust steward because he had acted wisely. This does not mean that the Lord Jesus commended him. The lord who commended him was his own master whom he had already defrauded, and now so shrewdly outwitted. He could not help acknowledging the smartness of the fellow, in making the most of his situation to provide for the future. Even men of the world can appreciate shrewdness in the man that victimizes them. The Lord Jesus does not commend his injustice, but He takes occasion from his prudence to teach us a lesson on the importance of using our little while of time and opportunity, to prepare for the destinies of the future. We, like this steward, have been given a great and solemn trust. Like him also, we have been unfaithful to it and are about to be called to account. The time is coming when each of us will have to pass out of our present habitations, into the uncertain future; but mercy still suspends the execution of the sentence for a little while. The bailiff, death, has not yet knocked at our door; and until he does, there is an opportunity for doing something to provide for the time when we shall be houseless and homeless. We can use the present life for this great end, to prepare for the future, so that when we are driven away from this earthly tabernacle, there will be friends waiting up yonder to receive us into everlasting habitations. This is what the Savior means by saying, “use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves” (Luke 16:9). That is, to so use the world that when we will leave it we will have gotten out of it something that will abide forever. We will have so improved the opportunities of grace and salvation, so consecrated and turned to divine account even the money, the friendships and the secular business of life, that we will have treasure laid up in heaven, and the loss of earth will be infinitely compensated by the everlasting gain. It is the same teaching which the Lord has elsewhere given in His Sermon on the Mount: “Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal” (Matthew 6:20). It is the idea the apostle repeats to Timothy in his letter: Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life. (1 Timothy 6:17-19) Of course it does not mean that either money or the consecrated use of money will save us. But it does mean that we can use our opportunities of life and grace to accept the salvation of the Lord Jesus. And then we can so turn to account our means, our business, our entire life in loving service for Christ, that there shall be reserved for us through His grace an everlasting recompense and a better and enduring substance. This parable, then, is a link between the ones that precede it, and those that follow. The two former refer to human destiny in the present life, or rather, at death. This looks on to the eternity beyond and teaches us to so use the present, even notwithstanding our failures and sins, as to prepare for it, and lay up treasure in it.
Section IV: the Rich Man and Lazarus, or the Destiny of Unfaithful Souls After Death
Section IV—the Rich Man and Lazarus, or the Destiny of Unfaithful Souls After DeathLuk_16:19-31This remarkable and most solemn picture carries us forward from the present to the eternal world, and reveals the judgments and recompenses which await each individual at the close of the present life. The Picture in Life First, we have the picture of two lives in vivid contrast. The one is a man who has everything that this world can afford without God. He is not necessarily a wicked man in the common sense of that word; he is simply a worldly man without God. His portion is purely earthly; but it is as complete as such a portion can be. He is rich and lives in luxury, and every indulgence. His taste and vanity are gratified by the most elegant and costly apparel. His sensual appetites are ministered to by every form of physical gratification. He dwells in a splendid mansion, and no doubt is surrounded by a retinue of servants and a circle of admiring friends. Perhaps he has all that affection can add to the more refined enjoyments of life, but that is all. The other is a man that has nothing that the world values. He is a poor, diseased beggar, without the means even of obtaining his necessary food, except through the charity of this very rich man; and without a friend to minister to his sufferings except the dogs that licked his sores. It is the uttermost contrast of earthly conditions. But as the one compensation, he has God, and the hope of heaven. This is not intended to glorify poverty, or to depreciate wealth; but simply to show how little the world is worth without God, and how much God is worth without the world. The Picture in Death Next, we have the picture of death. To both of these men it comes. To the rich man it comes with all the pomp and splendor of his condition. No doubt the wisest physicians attended him and the widest sympathy cheered and encouraged his closing days. But none of them could keep the grim messenger away. And when he died he was buried. This is emphatic. No doubt he had a costly and splendid funeral. Multitudes of mourners. Sublimest music. The grandest state. And perhaps, a tomb that tried to make death seem only a splendid pageant; and the narrow house, the palace of magnificence. The beggar died too, but perhaps, was not even buried. If he was, the public wagon hustled his uncoffined bones to the pauper’s field, where no headstone marked his resting place, and no tear was ever shed above his forgotten dust. And so the first two scenes close, and Dives (rich man’s traditional name) seems to have all the advantage. But now the next scene opens. It is eternity. How instantly and awfully all is changed. The narrative changes too. The beggar now comes to the front, and is first described, as he had the last place in the previous pictures. What procession of celestial forms is this we see swiftly and triumphantly passing through the fields of air and entering the heavenly portals? This is the beggar’s funeral procession. But it is not death, but life he is entering. He is carried by angels into Abraham’s bosom. At the very head of the table and reclining as in ancient feasts, so that his head would rest on the shoulder of the very Master of the supper, he sits down. “Never again will [he] hunger; never again will [he] thirst” (Revelation 7:16), or ever say again, “I am ill” (Isaiah 33:24). It is not necessary to dwell on all the details of the heavenly picture. It looks a little like the Old Testament paradise just before the ascension of Jesus opened heaven to all believers. It was perhaps the happy home of saved ones before Jesus came. It was not the final heaven, but the blessed home of the waiting ones, under the Abrahamic covenant, who were resting with their fathers until the Lord Jesus should open the portals of heaven to all believers. But it is enough that it was home, and rest, and happiness, and all of heaven that he could then enjoy. And now, we turn to the other side. What an awful picture! “In hell” (Luke 16:23), is the first vivid coloring on the canvas. “In torment” (Luke 16:23) is the next. “In this fire” (Luke 16:24), is the lurid light that next flashes upon the scene. “Have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue” (Luke 16:24), is the bitter cry. Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom, is the sight of heaven which adds a millionfold to the bitterness of hell. And last of all, “between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us” (Luke 16:26). There is no transition there. No second probation. No hope of reprieve or change. But fixed the doom of all remains And everlasting silence reigns. There seems a strange consciousness still of earth. A vivid memory of all the past, and a clear sense now of the madness and folly of his earthly choice, with a strange desire to save his brothers from his terrific fate. But even that is impossible. His own anguish is enhanced by the horrible fear that his bad example has ruined others as well as himself, and that in a little while he will see their sufferings, too, which he can less easily bear than his own. Is this then the punishment of wealth? No, but it is the loss of eternal life, and the neglect of heaven for the sake of the present world. It is designed to illustrate the Master’s oft repeated message, “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?” (Mark 8:36). And again, “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:33). “It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell” (Matthew 18:9). One lesson more should be added—namely, that our immortal destiny is settled not by our social condition, but by our faith and obedience with reference to the Word of God. The final answer of Abraham to this wretched spirit, in the depths of despair, implies that the cause of his and his brothers’ ruin was that they had refused to hear Moses and the prophets, and that not even the miracle of his return from the dead would be effectual and lead to their faith and repentance. The ground of human destiny is our treatment of God and His Word. “Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned” (Mark 16:16). Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash. (Matthew 7:24-27)