Mt 13/Mk 4/Lk 8 – Why did Jesus speak in parables?
The so-called ‘Parable of the Sower’ is recorded in all three Synoptic Gospels. And, in each case, the parable itself is followed by an explanation by Jesus of why he taught in parables.
Luke’s is the briefest account, followed by Mark’s and then Matthew’s:
In each case, the teaching is prompted by a question from Jesus’ disciples. From Mk 4:10, it is apparent that a group wider than just the Twelve is meant.
In Luke, the disciples ask about the meaning of this parable (the ‘Parable of the Sower’).
In Mark, they ask him about ‘the parables’.
In Matthew, they ask, ‘Why do you speak to them in parables?’
A change of direction
The so-called ‘Parable of the Sower’ signals a change of direction in Jesus’ public ministry. He begins for the first time to teach in parables. But why did he do so? People were starting to group themselves into admirers and enemies. Some were wildly enthusiastic; others accused him of being in league with the devil But even many of the fans might have been enthusiastic for the wrong reasons. They were sensation-seeker, only interested in what fantastic miracle he would perform next. But Jesus was looking for admirers, he had no interest in establishing a fan base for himself. He was looking for disciples. What he wanted was anybody who would show some commitment, understanding, faith. And it was to bring all these attitudes to the surface that he started teaching in parables.
Garland remarks that ‘the parable of the sower and the parable of the tenants of the vineyard are the two major parables in Mark. Both come after challenges from religious authorities from Jerusalem (Mk 3:20–35; 11:27–33). Both are allegories that provide vital clues for interpreting what is happening in Jesus’ ministry. The parable of the tenants of the vineyard allegorizes the rejection of Jesus, the son who has come to collect the fruit of the harvest, and portends his death. The parable of the sower evaluates the various responses to his sowing of the word and portends the misunderstanding that accompanies his word and deeds as well as the harvest that will occur among those who do understand and respond.’
So, what’s a parable?
It’s a bit like a Peanuts cartoon. A Peanuts cartoon gives you a fresh angle on the meaning of life. Lucy says, “Life is like a deckchair. Some people place it so they can see where they’re going, and some people place it so they can see where they’ve come from.” Charlie Brown complains, “I can’t even get mine unfolded.” A parable gives you a fresh angle on the kingdom of God. A parable has often been called, ‘an earthly story with a heavenly meaning.’ Because you have to work out the meaning for yourself, it acts as a kind of test – not of intelligence, but of insight and responsiveness to Jesus and his message.
Kennther Bailey wrote:
‘A parable is an extended metaphor, and as such, it is not a delivery system for an idea but a house in which the reader/listener is invited to take up residence…then that person is urged by the parable to look on the world through the windows of that residence…’ (Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes)
Not a new genre
Edwards summarises:
‘Jesus did not invent the parable genre, for there are occasional examples of such in the OT (2 Sam 12:1–14; Ezek 17:1–10) and among Jewish rabbis from the second century onward. There were, of course, also many stories and fables in Greco-Roman antiquity, some of which resemble parables. But in quantity and excellence Jesus’ parables are without parallel in the ancient world. The Gospels record some sixty different parables of Jesus, most of which are found in Matthew and Luke, fewer in Mark, and none in John.’
An oral, rather than a written, medium
William Barclay makes the following important point:
‘The parable, as Jesus used it, was spoken; it was not read. Its impact had to be immediate, not the result of long study with commentaries and dictionaries. It made truth flash upon a man as the lightning suddenly illuminates a pitch-dark night. In our study of the parables that means two things for us.
‘First, it means that we must amass every possible detail about the background of life in Palestine, so that the parable will strike us as it did those who heard it for the first time. We must think and study and imagine ourselves back into the minds of those who were listening to Jesus.
‘Second, it means that generally speaking a parable will have only one point. A parable is not an allegory; an allegory is a story in which every possible detail has an inner meaning; but an allegory has to be read and studied; a parable is heard. We must be very careful not to make allegories of the parables and to remember that they were designed to make one stabbing truth flash out at a man the moment he heard it.’ (DSB)
Common theme
On the nature and purpose of Jesus’ parables, Edwards remarks that the most common subject is the kingdom of God, which is illustrated from everyday objects and events – fishing, farming, housekeeping, and so on. Although they demand no special knowledge, they are not straightforward to understand. They cannot be comprehending by simply inspection from the ‘outside’. They can only be understood from the ‘inside’, by hearers placing themselves in the world of the parable and finding where they fit into the story.
Parables do not simply speak; they act. They do not function primarily to inform, but to prompt a response.
Later
According to Mk 4:10, this segment of teaching took place at a later time, because in v1 and and v36 Jesus is in the boat, preaching to the crowds. Now he is ‘alone’ with his disciples and others. As Edwards remarks, such private settings often provide opportunities for revelation in Mark.
Interpretative questions
This teaching raises various exegetical and theological questions. Focussing on Mk 4:11f, Douglas McComiskey asks:
‘What is the “secret” of the kingdom of God? How is it “given” to the disciples? What are the lines along which Jesus divides disciples from “those outside”? What is the function of the Isa 6:9–10 quotation in his argument? and, perhaps the most important and difficult question: Does he desire that certain people not be saved?’
This parable a key to them all
Difficult this teaching may be, but, along with the ‘Parable of the Sower’ which it accompanies, was regarded by Jesus himself as some of his most important. The disciples, although initiated into the mystery of God’s Kingdom, were still slow to understand. If they cannot understand this parable, all the others will remain obscure to them also. The Parable of the Sower is a key to all parables, because it describes the different degrees of receptiveness of the human heart to the word of God, which different degrees it is the general design of the parables to expose.
In Mark’s version, “everything is in parables”. This, according to Garland, suggests that Jesus’ ministry generally, including his miracles, may be regarded as parabolic, requiring interpretation (see Mk 3:22–30; 6:51–52; 8:14–21).
Cole comments:
‘In a sense, this parable is the key to all the other parables, because in all of them Jesus preaches or ‘sows’ the word.’
The quotation from Isaiah
As Mounce remarks, ‘this is the only fulfillment quotation that is ascribed to Jesus himself.’
The quotation is from Isa 6:9. Scarcely any passage in the Old Testament is so frequently quoted in the New Testament as this. Not on is it quoted in all three Synoptic versions of the ‘Parable of the Sower’, it is also found in Jn 12:40; Acts 28:26 and Rom 11:8.
R.E. Watts (CNTUOT) notes that:
‘striking parallels exist between the setting of Isa. 6 and Mark’s presentation (see R. E. Watts 2000: 184–210; also Gnilka 1961: 205; Schneck 1994: 125–27). In Isa. 6 the fundamental datum is Yahweh’s kingship; in Mark’s Gospel Jesus inaugurates the kingdom of God (mentioned three times in the parables material [4:11, 26, 30]), and the Beelzebul debate concerns the clash of kingdoms (3:24). In both cases God’s proffered salvation is met with rebellion cloaked in piety, especially on the part of the nation’s wise leaders’
Watts continues:
‘Striking parallels exist between the setting of Isa. 6 and Mark’s presentation. In Isa. 6 the fundamental datum is Yahweh’s kingship; in Mark’s Gospel Jesus inaugurates the kingdom of God (mentioned three times in the parables material [Mk 4:11, 26, 30]), and the Beelzebul debate concerns the clash of kingdoms (Mk 3:24). In both cases God’s proffered salvation is met with rebellion cloaked in piety, especially on the part of the nation’s wise leaders.’
But, adds Watts, there are also differences between the setting in Isaiah and that in Mark’s Gospel. In Isaiah, the die has been cast – people and leaders alike have made their decision. But in Mark this is not the case. Just as the Parable of the Soils teaches, responses vary. Jesus’ family members have their doubts, and are, for the time being, outside (Mk 3:31f), but they do not denounce Jesus publicly. The crowd (Mk 4:1) seems undecided, and so are urged to listen carefully. And many have responded in faith.
As in Isaiah (Isa 7:9), the focus is on repentance and faith (Mk 1:14f), and the healing and salvation this leads to (Mk 2:5; 5:34–36; 9:24; 10:52). But for those who refuse, who remain on the outside, Jesus’ parables merely confirm them in their choice.
Snodgrass urges that the Isaiah message is not merely one of condemnation, still less of predestination. It is, rather, a provocation to hear and respond:
‘The function of this language is both a warning of what is happening — that judgment is inevitable, that the people have not responded and will not — and also a challenge and an invitation for people not to remain in such insensitivity but to hear the word and repent. ‘
Further:
- ‘the harsh language of Isa 6:9-10 is a prophetic instrument for warning and challenge;
- it expresses the certainty of God’s coming judgment for a people who are past hearing;
- the words of Isa 6:9 became the classic expression to speak of the people’s hardness of heart; and
- the proclamation still expects and seeks some to hear and follow.’
And again:
‘Jesus taught in parables, like any good prophet, to appeal and to enable hearing. Where parables find a willing response, further explanation is given. Where there is no response the message is lost.’
“The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you”
I have quoted mark’s version: some variation of this occurs in all three versions. Edwards describes ‘has been given’ as a divine passive. It is not known or perceived by merely human means, but, rather, by revelation. We are mindful, that although the disciples were in this privileged position, they would frequently demonstrate confusion and obtuseness.
It is a gift:
‘Disciples are not quicker than others, nor are they able to unravel mysteries for themselves. The mystery is something that is “given” to them. The understanding comes by grace as Jesus’ interpretation unlocks the mystery for them.’ (Garland)
“Mysteries”
In Lk 8:10 Jesus speaks of “the secrets of the kingdom of God” – or, ‘the mysteries.’
This is, at first sight, puzzling. For one thing, we tend to think that Jesus spoke in parables in order to clarify, not obscure, the message. For another thing, expressing things as ‘secrets’ or ‘mysteries’ sounds like a tactic we associate with Gnosticism, not with Jesus.
In fact, Jesus’ intention is very different to the secretive methods of the Gnostics and adherents of the mystery religions. Such mysteries are
‘inside information on life which only believers, only disciples, are given to understand. They are…truths which the natural man cannot discover by himself. They are great missing pieces, if you like, of the jigsaw puzzle of life.’ (Stedman)
This is
‘not a mystery in the sense that it is incomprehensible, but it is a “secret” in that not everyone yet knows it’ (France).
In other words:
‘In the NT it does not mean something mysterious or enigmatic. Nor is it something only for the initiated few. The emphasis is on God’s disclosure to human beings of what was previously unknown.’ (EBC rev.)
Garland says that although the nature of this secret is not made explicit, the context suggests that it has to do with ‘the kingdom of God coming in a veiled way in the person, words, and works of Jesus.’
Schnabel traces the expression back to the book of Daniel:
‘The Greek term mystērion is most plausibly understood in the context of its use in Daniel. The Aramaic term rāz, translated in the LXX as mystērion, refers to the interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream which is a ‘secret’ in that it is hidden from Babylon’s wise men but revealed by God to Daniel, who explains, ‘not because I have greater wisdom than anyone else alive, but so that Your Majesty may know the interpretation’ (Dan. 2:30; cf. 2:18–19, 27–30, 47; cf. Amos 3:7).’
Inside and outside
Luke’s version speaks of ‘others’, Mark’s, of ‘those outside’.
A parable is like a door: it lets some people in, while it keeps others out. Some remain outside, staring at the door. Others open it and go through.
In other words, Jesus’ parabolic teaching has a discriminatory effect. To those who accept it, more will be (and is, at this very moment being) given. To those who reject, even what they have will be taken away.
But, as Stein remarks, the message was not to be kept secret: it was to become an ‘open secret’:
‘The disciples chose not only to hear but also to know these “secrets” concerning God’s kingdom. This, however, was not simply for their own benefit but in order that they might be able to make this known to others (Luke 1:3; 24:45–49; Acts 1:8; cf. the condemnation of the Pharisees in Luke 11:52 for not doing this).’
‘Mary Ann Tolbert correctly states, “Judging by the varied opinions and continued controversies that mark the study of the parables of Jesus…it is undoubtedly true that most modern parable interpreters fall into the category of the ‘others'”‘ (Osborne, The Hermeneutical Spiral)
Without spiritual insight the parables are unintelligible. They are therefore a condemnation to the wilfully blind and hostile, while they are a blessing to the teachable.
Who, exactly, are those who are ‘outside’? They are the religious leaders and members of Jesus family. But we are not to understand there to be an immutable distinction between ‘insiders’ and ‘outsiders’. As Edwards remarks,
‘some outsiders will become insiders—the Gerasene demoniac (Mk 5:1–20), the woman with a flow of blood (Mk 5:25–34), the Syrophoenician woman (Mk 7:24–30), a Gentile centurion (Mk 15:38–39), perhaps even a scribe (Mk 12:28–34). Likewise, some insiders, such as Judas, will become outsiders (Mk 14:1–2, 10–11, 21, 43–46).’
Snodgrass notes that at times Jesus speaks even of the Twelve as having hard hearts, unseeing eyes and deaf ears (Mk 8:17f).
Garland, similarly, says:
‘As the story progresses, the disciples’ dazed incomprehension (Mk 7:17–18; 8:14–21, 27–33; 9:9–13, 30–32; 10:23–31, 32–45; 11:20–25) and blindness (Mk 4:35–41; 6:45–52; 9:2–8; 14:17–25, 32–43) reveals that even they are at risk of becoming outsiders. They particularly fail to grasp fully the secret of the cross and resurrection. At the end, one becomes a traitor and betrays him; another denies him. All flee, leaving him to die alone. On the other hand, apparent outsiders often show the faith of insiders: the woman with the flow of blood (Mk 5:34), the Syrophoenician woman (Mk 7:29), the father of an epileptic (Mk 9:24), the exorcists who do not follow the disciples (Mk 9:38–41), the mothers of children (Mk 10:13–16), blind Bartimaeus (Mk 10:46–52), the woman who anointed Jesus (Mk 14:3–9), and the Roman centurion (Mk 15:39).’
So, why did Jesus teach in parables?
Bowker (cited by Snodgrass) thinks that ‘in parables’ (Mk 4:11) does not mean ‘enigmatically’, but ‘in clearest possible illustration’. But Snodgrass himself thinks that this is inadequate: parables do have a ‘veiling’ quality. They both reveal and conceal. The receptive become fruitful; the resistant become ever more obdurate.
Carson (ENB) replies:
‘It is naive to say Jesus spoke [parables] so that everyone might more easily grasp the truth, and it is simplistic to say that the sole function of parables to outsiders was to condemn them. If Jesus simply wished to hide the truth from the outsiders, he need never have spoken to them. His concern for mission (Mt 9:35–38; 10:1–10; 28:16–20) excludes that idea. So he must preach without casting his pearls before pigs (Mt 7:6). He does so in parables—i.e., in such a way as to harden and reject those who are hard of heart and to enlighten his disciples. His disciples, it must be remembered, are not just the Twelve but those who were following him (see comment on Mt 5:1–12) and who, it is hoped, go on to do the will of the Father (Mt 12:50) and do not end up blaspheming the Spirit (Mt 12:30–32). Thus the parables spoken to the crowds do not simply convey information, nor mask it, but present the claims of the inaugurated kingdom and so challenge the hearers.’
Schnabel emphasises that the state of spiritual blindness is not necessarily permanent:
‘At the same time, the parable of the lamp and its explanation by Jesus in verses 21–22, emphasizing that what is now hidden must be brought to light, suggests that the verdict of verses 11–12 may be only temporary, leaving hope that the outsiders ‘need not be permanently written off, that the division between insiders and outsiders is not a gulf without bridges’ (France, p. 201).’
As Hooker remarks, the boundary between those who are ‘inside’ and those who are ‘outside’ is not always obvious:
‘The saying appears to stand in marked contrast to Mark’s story; for from this point onwards, the Twelve behave with a singular lack of understanding, while some outsiders show remarkable faith. The disciples fail to understand the parables (4:13) and the power of Jesus (4:40f.; 6:37, 49–52; 8:4, 14–21); they are mystified by his teaching (7:18)—especially on the need for suffering (8:32–4; 9:32–4; 10:32, 35–41)—and they fail him at the crucial hour (14:32–42, 47, 50, 66–72). But to those outside, faith is given: to the woman with a haemorrhage (5:34), the Syro-Phoenician woman (7:29), the father of the epileptic boy (9:24), the children who are brought for blessing (10:13–16), the woman who anoints Jesus (14:3–9) and—most remarkable of all—the centurion at the Cross (15:39).’
‘So that…they may not see, and…may not understand’
The key interpretative question is whether we are to understand this saying as predictive or prescriptive.
In this quotation from Isa 6:10,
‘parables are presented not as windows through which outsiders perceive the kingdom of God but as doors debarring them from it’ (Edwards)
The teaching of teaching Jesus parallels that of Isaiah, who was sent to preach despite being warned in advance that people would not listen.
Matthew interpolates as follows:- ‘In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah…’
The paraphrase of Isa 6:10 (“lest they repent and it be forgiven them”) follows the Targum (“and it be forgiven them”) rather than the Hebrew (“and I will heal them”).
Luke’s hina (“in order that”) is hoti (“because”) in Matthew.
A key question is whether Jesus spoke in parables with the result that some of his hearers would not understand and believe, or with the intention that they would not do so. The latter implies a determinism somewhat akin to the (disputed) doctrine of ‘double predestination’. Thus the issue becomes, for many thoughtful readers, one of divine sovereignty versus human responsibility.
According to Harper’s Bible Commentary,
‘this is one of the most controverted in NT scholarship. It implies a harsh determinism where Jesus spoke in parables in order to prevent his hearers from perceiving or understanding “lest they convert and be forgiven.”’
According to Wessel and Strauss (EBC):
‘Taken at face value, the statement seems to be saying that the purpose of parables is that unbelievers (“those on the outside,” v. 11) may not receive the truth and be converted. That this statement was thought to be difficult theologically may be seen in Matthew’s changing hina (“in order that”) to hoti (“with the result that”; the NIV translates hina with the ambiguous “so that”) and in Luke’s dropping the mēpote (“otherwise”) clause.’
Witherington says:
‘If Lane is right that the formulaic introduction to the quote with ινα means “so that” rather than “in order that,” the point would be that Jesus’ parables have the effect, rather than the purpose, of concealing the truth from those not ready to perceive, and perhaps revealing the truth only to those who are (which depends on what type of soil they are).’
But Witherington himself thinks that a purposive sense is inescapable.
Others, however, think that the sense is predictive, rather than purposive. So Cole.
Wessel and Strauss consider a range of ways in which interpreters have attempted to soften the force of the text. They conclude, however, that:
‘the most natural interpretation remains that of purpose.’
Edwards discusses the tension between divine sovereignty and human responsibility:
‘The tension was already present in Isaiah 6, where God sent his prophet to a people who would not respond. It was evident in Pharaoh’s hardness, which is attributed alternatively to his own choice (Exod 7:14, 22; 8:15, 19, 32; 9:7, 35; 13:15) and to God’s will (Exod 4:21; 7:3; 9:12; 10:1, 20; 11:10). It is evident in the parable of the sower where a farmer sows seed on ground that cannot produce a yield. The tension is preserved in Mark’s reflection on the defection of Judas, one of Jesus’ chosen, who betrayed him: “ ‘On the one hand, the Son of Man must be betrayed as it is written, but woe to that man through whom he is betrayed’ ” (14:21). The disbelief and rejection experienced by Jesus were later experienced by the early church as well, and again Isa 6:9–10 (along with Jer 5:21) spoke to the problem of the hardened heart (Acts 28:26–27; John 12:40).’
Edwards explains:
‘The parable of the sower is like the cloud that separated the fleeing Israelites from the pursuing Egyptians, bringing “darkness to the one side and light to the other” (Exod 14:20). That which was blindness to Egypt was revelation to Israel. The same event was either a vehicle of light or of darkness, depending on one’s stance with God.’
Hurtado thinks that these words of Jesus are not so harsh as they appear to be:
‘Isaiah 6:9–10 is an indication of divine sovereignty and foreknowledge intended to say that the apparent failure of the messenger is no argument against his divine call. In its form, it is an ironic statement, giving the foreseen net result of the prophet’s ministry as if it were all intended, when this is of course not the case. That Mark 4:12 is an allusion to Isaiah 6:9–10 suggests that this too is prophetic irony.’
It is not that the parables cause unbelief, but that they reveal it. Had Jesus tried to persuade people to belief by miracle, by moral code, or by doctrinal formula, it would have been false belief.
Hurtado continues:
‘Jesus’ parables are not simply teaching aids, like charts, diagrams, or other such devices. Though they present the kingdom of God in story form and analogy, the kingdom of God they describe does not conform to general expectation but makes its appearance in “secret” form in the ministry of Jesus and his disciples. Thus, the parables are difficult, challenging, because they embody and testify to a reality not easily recognized and received for what it really is.’
For Stein, the meaning in Luke is clear enough:
‘That Luke understood the hina as indicating the result of Jesus’ preaching receives additional support from Acts 28:26–28, where Luke quoted Isa 6:9 once again. Here the responsibility for what happens lies clearly upon those who willingly reject the gospel message.’
According to Mk 4:24f those who have (received the message) will receive more, whereas those who have not (received it) will lose even what they had.
Hooker sounds a note of interpretative caution:
‘Jewish thought tended to blur the distinction between purpose and result; if God was sovereign, then of course what happened must be his will, however strange this appeared.’
In the words, “Otherwise they might turn and be forgiven!” Garland sees deep irony here: “…because the last thing they want to do turn and be forgiven!”
Carson (EBC) urges against simplistic interpretations:
‘It is naive to say Jesus spoke [parables] so that everyone might more easily grasp the truth, and it is simplistic to say that the sole function of parables to outsiders was to condemn them. If Jesus simply wished to hide the truth from the outsiders, he need never have spoken to them. His concern for mission (Mt 9:35–38; 10:1–10; 28:16–20) excludes that idea. So he must preach without casting his pearls before pigs (Mt 7:6). He does so in parables—i.e., in such a way as to harden and reject those who are hard of heart and to enlighten his disciples. His disciples, it must be remembered, are not just the Twelve but those who were following him (see comment on Mt 5:1–12) and who, it is hoped, go on to do the will of the Father (Mt 12:50) and do not end up blaspheming the Spirit (Mt 12:30–32). Thus the parables spoken to the crowds do not simply convey information, nor mask it, but present the claims of the inaugurated kingdom and so challenge the hearers.’
Mt 11:25f ‘At that time Jesus said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent, and revealed them to little children. 11:26 Yes, Father, for this was your gracious will.’ (Lk 10:21f)
Theology
Watts summarises the theological implications:
‘Soteriologically,…the parables are neither esoteric nor rigidly predestinarian, but rather are revelatory of the kingdom and of the hearers’ hearts. They are the judicial response from the one who inaugurates God’s kingly reign to stubbornness of heart and blasphemous rebellion. As such, they are also a warning to those who, perhaps like Jesus’ family, are less hostile but nevertheless still on the outside.
‘Ecclesiologically, those who are confident in their own wisdom reject the word and work of the Holy One of God (1:24; cf. Isaiah’s characteristic “Holy One of Israel”) and despise the instruction of Yahweh-Warrior (cf. “Lord of Hosts” [Isa. 5:24b]). In contrast to those who “do the will of God” (3:35), they will find that “their root will become rotten and their blossom like dust” (Isa. 5:24a [cf. Mark 4:3–6]).
‘Christologically, Mark is increasingly clear that something special has happened in Jesus. Yahweh has at last responded to long-exiled Israel’s lament and come down in him. Tragically, however, as was so often the case in the nation’s history, many have hardened their hearts. To reject Jesus is to reject Yahweh himself, to cut oneself off from the faithful in Israel, to choose death, and so to face judgment (11:13–14, 20–23; 12:9; 13). But for those who will listen carefully, this need not be the result. Taken together, the Beelzebul controversy and the material on the parables indicate that the eschatological division of Israel has begun, and it all turns on one’s response to Jesus (3:24–25; 4:11; cf. Isa. 65:1–13).
(Slightly reformatted and with emphasis added)
Implications for today’s preachers and hearers
Bock (NIVAC) notes that the character of the soil/heart is evinced over time:
‘When we approach this text, we tend to present it as a one-moment response: “As you hear this message today, which soil are you?” But the question is more comprehensive: “As you look at your spiritual walk up to today, which soil are you?” The parable looks at a career of response, as is clear when one considers that the good soil brings up various levels of fruit. The assessment is built on moments, to be sure, but it requires a life of response to consider what one’s soul looks like relative to a slowly developing crop. A plant does not sprout forth overnight, nor does the harvest of the heart.’
Garland notes that Jesus’ parabolic teaching is very different from the orderly propositional teaching that many value and engage in today. Who among us would dare to preach an obscure message, and then wait for earnest enquirers to come to us afterwards and ask for an explanation? But Jesus did not see his teaching ministry as merely about information transfer. He wanted to wake people up. He wanted them to see things afresh. He wanted them to come to a new realisation. But such teaching will always separate out those who, on the one hand, are impervious to the things of God, too easily distracted by the attractions of the present world, and, on the other hand, those who sincerely desire to seek God. Are we trying to impress people, or bolster attendance figures? Or are we prepared to teach the things of the Kingdom the way that Jesus taught them, even if we meet with widespread rejection?
Fee & Stuart agree that by teaching in this way Jesus putting down a marker that would end up separating those who were open to his person and message and those who were not.
‘If the parables…are not allegorical mysteries for the church, what did Jesus mean when responding to the disciples’ inquiry about the parables (Mark 4:10–12) with language about the “mystery” of the kingdom of God? Most likely the clue to this saying lies in a play on words in Jesus’ native Aramaic. The Aramaic term mĕthal, which was translated parabolē in Greek, was used for a whole range of figures of speech in the riddle/puzzle/parable category, not just for the story variety called “parables” in English. Probably the phrase “to those on the outside everything is said in parables” (v. 11) meant that the meaning of Jesus’ ministry (the secret of the kingdom) could not be perceived by those on the outside; it was like a mĕthal, a riddle, to them. Hence his speaking in mathlîn (parables) was part of the mĕthal (riddle) of his whole ministry to them. They saw, but they failed to see; they heard—and even understood—the parables, but they failed to hear in a way that led to obedience. They were looking for their idea of power and glory, not for a humble Galilean who cared for all the wrong kinds of people.’ (How To Read The Bible For All Its Worth, p156)
Wright (Jesus and the Victory of God) summarises the meaning of this difficult text:
‘If too many understand too well, the prophet’s liberty of movement, and perhaps life, may be cut short. Jesus knew his kingdom-announcement was subversive. It would be drastically unwelcome, for different reasons, to the Romans, to Herod, and also to zealous Jews and their leaders, whether official or not. He must therefore speak in parables, ‘so that they may look and look but never see’. It was the only safe course. Only those in the know must be allowed to glimpse what Jesus believed was going on. These stories would get past the censor—for the moment. There would come a time for more open revelation.’
Jesus’ teaching reveals spiritual blindness in unexpected places:
‘God’s mysterious revelation…reveals the blindness of the world, and that blindness is manifest in surprising groups: the religious authorities, the Pharisees and the teachers of the law (Mk 2:1–3:6; 3:22–30), Jesus’ nearest relatives (Mk 3:31–35), and even his disciples (Mk 8:14–21).’ (Garland)