Josh King

Taxing Nails (Matthew 22:15-22)

Thinking that this text is about taxes is like thinking that the point of building a house is driving nails. The government may spend taxes that way (“Hey we bought an outrageous surplus of nails here… hmmm… what to do? Houses!”), but the Holy Spirit does not inspire texts that way. We can learn about taxes from this text. In fact, everything that the New Testament teaches us about relating to government (i.e. Romans 13:1-7) is contained within Jesus’ response, but taxes are not the point. Taxes are the road, not the destination. What is the aim? What was the Pharisees’ aim? They wanted to entangle Jesus in His words. They do want to drive nails—in Jesus’ coffin. They want to discredit Jesus. Their questions are the hammers.

The Holy Spirit, in contrast, wants to glorify Jesus. He has the easy task. He just has to open blind eyes; “Look, there He is!” When the Pharisees test Jesus, it is like a distance jumper saying he will test the vastness of the Grand Canyon by his jumping skills. You have to foolishly think you are some kind of greatness to test Jesus. When man tests Jesus, man always fails. Jesus’ answer is brilliant and wonderful. They ask about giving taxes, He tells them to render. Don’t just give, give back to Ceasar what is his. Pause. Read slowly. Give Ceasar what is his. Do not render Caesar what is not his. The coin used for the poll tax had an image of Tiberius with the inscription, “Tiberius Ceasar, Son of the Divine Augustus.” Divinity is not Caesar’s. He is not due worship. Pay Caesar taxes, not homage.

The Pharisees fail, and yet, Jesus is going to the cross. Nails will be driven into His hands and feet, but He is using them, the rulers of this world, as His hammers. Foolish hammer. He thinks he wields himself. They kill, God raises, Jesus rules. Every time—they look stupid and Jesus looks glorious. We can give Ceasar taxes, because we know the risen King of kings who is Lord over them all. In giving Ceasar his due as an act of obedience to God, we give to God his due as the Sovereign Lord of all.

Jesus does not tax His subjects. He was taxed for them, by God, bearing the wrath they deserve. He payed our debt and rendered our due. True, he demands we die, but so that we might live. We must repent, but in repentance we turn from poison to elixir. We turn from darkness to light. We turn from death to life. Jesus does not tax; His yoke is easy and His burden is light. In Jesus we have been given a ruler none of us deserve; a King who serves, a Ruler who heals, a Conqueror who delivers, a Lord who gives. This frees you to give. Even taxes. Jesus is so great, you can pay taxes to pagan kings as an act of worshipping Him. Render Him His due.

Tolle Lege: The World-Tilting Gospel

World-Tilting

Readability: 1

Length: 308 pp

Author: Dan Phillips

Want to read a book that powerfully presents the gospel? Here you go, Dan Phillips’ The World-Tilting Gospel. Want a book that will help you develop a Biblical worldview? Ibid. Don’t think a book can do both? Then you don’t understand the gospel and you don’t understand the world. Now we have gone from a want to a need. If you don’t see the connection then you need to read a book like this. Here you go:

Self-image matters, but not in the way that pop psychology paints it. What one makes of the human condition—what you think you are now, and/or what you think you were when God found you and made you His—has a major ongoing impact on our approach to God, our view of Him, and our day-to-day relationship with God.

Suppose we have the belief that we are good people who simply need a bit of a leg up. We aren’t really bad-hearted. People just don’t understand us. Deep down inside we mean well and want good things. Oh, we may have a few bad habits, we sometimes make a bad call here and there—a mistake, a goof, an “oops” . . . but it’s what’s inside that counts, and what’s inside is good.

Here’s Bud Goodheart, for instance. Bud sees himself as a decent, moral, well-meaning guy. So naturally Bud is attracted to the sort of worldview that presents God as the grand Rubber Stamp in the Sky. This God loves us unconditionally, just as we are, and wants us to realize our deepest dreams and aspirations. “Go for it, child!” Bud’s God cheers. “I’m right behind you!” That’s the line from the pulpit . . . or stool, or “enablement stand,” or whatever. “God wants you to pursue your dreams!”

So Bud simply brings God his biggest and brightest dreams, and God signs off on them. Whump! Whump! Whump! goes the heavenly rubber stamp. Approved! God claps Bud on the back, gives a big thumbs-up—and off Bud trots. Pursuing Bud’s agenda. Because God has Bud’s back.

How will such a man, such a woman, see Christ? Not as a Savior, surely. As Facilitator, as Enabler, as Cheerleader inspiring him to pursue his dreams, his goals, his ambitions. What is the Cross, to Bud? If anything, it is an expression of God’s love and approval. The Cross proves how much Bud means to God, how worthy Bud is, how irresistibly adorable Bud is to God. The Cross tells Bud that he is okay—that God just wants to fulfill Bud and make him happy with himself. It’s about affirmation, not execution.

Bud may view the Christian life as an ongoing negotiation with his partner, Jesus. Nothing radical, certainly. After all, Bud “invited” Jesus in, he gave Christ a “chance,” he “tried Christ” (like the bumper sticker says). Jesus was a plug-in, an add-on, like some enhancement to a web browser—a really good and powerful plugin that promises big things, but a plug-in nonetheless.

And Bud maintains control of the relationship.

But, you see, if Bud is wrong about himself, and he’s wrong about God, and he’s wrong about Christ, and he’s wrong about the Cross—then Bud is wrong about the relationship, too.

It matters!

WTS Books: $13.10 Amazon: $13.28

The Pilgrim: No Dichotomy in Prayer

For God, and Christ, and his people are so linked together that if the good of the one be prayed for, to wit, the church, the glory of God, and advancement of Christ, must needs be included. For as Christ is in the Father, so the saints are in Christ; and he that toucheth the saints, toucheth the apple of God’s eye; and therefore pray for the peace of Jerusalem, and you pray for all that is required of you. For Jerusalem will never be in perfect peace until she be in heaven; and there is nothing that Christ doth more desire than to have her there. That also is the place that God through Christ hath given to her. He then that prayeth for the peace and good of Zion, or the church, doth ask that in prayer which Christ hath purchased with his blood; and also that which the Father hath given to him as the price thereof. —John Bunyan, A Discourse Touching Prayer

I Want to Eat, Just Not with You (Matthew 22:1-15)

It’s not the idea of a feast we reject; it’s the Host. But the Host is also the fare. When He says, “Eat my flesh and drink my blood,” we lose our appetite. Still, the idea of a feast, we love. Adam had no problem with the garden. He just wanted to be God too. Fallen man would rather be miserable in sin, than joyful in God.

This parable makes you see the folly of sin, and specifically the sin of unbelief in the gospel. To reject the gospel of the kingdom is to reject an eternal royal wedding feast. “How can they reject the feast?” we cry. But we are them. When you know the human condition you are not puzzled that many refuse, nor by the intensity of the refusal. You are flabbergasted that any come at all.

Here is a parable chock-full of human response—some are apathetic, others persecute, one presumes, and the unexpected feast—and Jesus explains it all by saying many are called but few are chosen. Jesus explains human responses by divine election.

Election does not keep people out of the feast who want in, it brings people in to the feast who would never come.

The Pilgrim: Praying like the Pharisee

In all that thou sayest, thou dost but play the downright hypocrite. Thou pretendest indeed to mercy, but thou intendest nothing but merit. Thou seemest to give the glory to God; but at the same time takest it all to thyself. Thou despisest others, and criest up thyself, and in conclusion fatherest all upon God by word, and upon thyself in truth. Nor is there any thing more common among this sort of men, than to make God, his grace, and kindness, the stalking-horse to their own praise, saying, God, I thank thee when they trust to themselves that they are righteous, and have not need of any repentance; when the truth is, they are the worst sort of men in the world, because they put themselves into such a state as God hath not put them into, and then impute it to God, saying, God, I thank thee, that thou hast done it; for what greater sin [is there] than to make God a liar, or than to father that upon God which he never meant, intended, or did. And all this under a colour to glorify God; when there is nothing else designed, but to take all glory from him, and to wear [it] on thine own head as a crown, and a diadem in the face of the whole world. —John Bunyan, The Publican and the Pharisee

Explaining Viticulture with Masonry

Jesus explains the vineyard by taking us to the stone quarry. He illustrates viticulture with masonry. It’s when you go to the construction site, that the farm is made sense of. When we turn from green living vines to cold hard stone, we understand the judgment that comes against the Jewish leaders. You cannot be fruitful unless you have a massive stone in your garden.

The leaders abuse everything that is “His,” that is, the owner’s. They withhold “his fruit,” beat, kill, and stone “his servants,” and murder “his son,” because they want “his (now the son’s) inheritance.” Indeed the only thing they can do is abuse “his” stuff, because all that they have has been given to them. Sin is always stealing. The sinner always has to borrow to rebel. How does masonry explain this? Let me illustrate it like this, as characters in a story, all that the tenants have is given to them by the author. If Jesus doesn’t think it up, it does not exist. Likewise, God is the author of the story we find ourselves in. If He does not speak it, it simply isn’t. All that is, is through and for the Son (Colossians 1:15-20). The leaders want to keep the stuff in the story, and murder the Author. They want to remain part of the cabinet while assassinating the president. They want to reject the Cornerstone, of all that is, expecting all to still stand so that they can have it for themselves. They are just like Adam. We are just like them. We all want to be God, so God must die.

This is the insanity of sin. As Francis Schaffer said, we are trying to plant both feet firmly in mid air. We want the lamp to put out light, but hate the idea of plugging it in. When you rebel against light what else can you expect but darkness? When you hate the God of all wisdom, folly is your lot. When you rebel against life, there is only death. We are worse than physicists who reject the existence of atoms, or carpenters who reject wood. We want all that is His without the Him, but without the Him there is nothing. Jesus is the foundation to everything. Build all you want in the make-believe world of sin, but it won’t stand. Reject Jesus and you will find nothing under your feet, only a bottomless pit. The Pharisees want the castle while rejecting the only foundation that can support it. You cannot have the kingdom while rejecting the King. God’s reign of salvation has come in Jesus. He is its Cornerstone. This is God’s doing. May it be marvelous in our eyes.

The Pilgrim: Confession of Sin, not Commendation of Self

The Pharisee, therefore in commending of himself, makes himself never the better. The Publican also, in condemning of himself, makes himself never the worse. Nay, contrariwise, the Pharisee by commending of himself makes himself much the worse (v. 14). And the Publican, by condemning of himself, makes himself much the better. ‘I tell you, (says Christ) This man went down to his house justified rather than the other: For every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.’ —John Bunyan, The Pharisee and the Publican

This Is Not a Clashing of Zax (Matthew 21:23-32)

You’re the general manager of a restaurant that is a national chain. Soon you’re to open for dinner, so you gather the staff to speak to them. A call briefly diverts you. When you return a mystery man is rearranging the furniture, telling the employees to take certain things down and throw them in the dumpster, while instructing them as to how things will be done from now on. You run up interrogating, “Who do you think you are? By what authority do you do these things?”

This is what the Jewish leaders are doing here. They do not realize that the Owner is in the house. They are getting themselves fired.

Why did I identify you with these corrupt managers? If you read this text and identify with Jesus as a rebel bucking corrupt authority you need to realize this—you are not Jesus. If you are shouting “Yeah, boo authority,” you are just like the high priests. Don’t identify with Jesus as a rebel against authority. Identify yourself with the leaders as rebels against the supreme authority. Jesus isn’t a rebel for you to identify with. He is a King for you to submit to. Jesus isn’t subverting their authority, He is saying He trumps it. He is showing that the authorities have no authority over Him.

Two parties have clashed rejecting the authorities of one another. This is not a meeting of a south-going Zax meeting a north-going Zax. This isn’t the meeting of two equally stubborn creatures. The crucial issue here is who has the authority. That is whose rejection matters. If an officer pulls you over and starts to give you a ticket it does you no good to say, “I reject that badge, toodeloo.” Likewise, when you reject Jesus, you’re not the one in authority. Worse yet, the one rejected, is King, so your crime becomes treason. Even worse still, He is the King of kings; there is no higher court of appeal.

Repent, and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.

The Pilgrim: For Him to Love Us—O What Love

[T]hat a person so great, so high, so glorious, as this Jesus Christ was, should have love for us, that passes knowledge. It is common for equals to love, and for superiors to be beloved; but for the King of princes, for the Son of God, for Jesus Christ to love man thus: this is amazing, and that so much the more, for that man the object of this love, is so low, so mean, so vile, so undeserving, and so inconsiderable, as by the scriptures, everywhere he is described to be. —John Bunyan, The Saints Knowledge of Christ’s Love

A “Christian” of Leafy Show (Matthew 21:18-22)

American’s knowledge of figs is generally limited to Fig Newtons, so some knowledge of fig trees is especially helpful here. But before we get on that highway I want to emphasize the sense in which I use “helpful.” You don’t need to be an expert on ancient customs and practices to read your Bible. If you carefully read your text, and have a thorough knowledge of Scripture you can read with confidence. You will make greater strides in understanding if you steep your mind in the Old Testament rather than a book about old customs. Nevertheless, such knowledge can be helpful.

It is March/April. A fig may be putting out leaves at this time and if there are leaves it is certain that there is an early, edible fruit bud. This bud will fall off and the better fruit will be ripe in June. This is why Mark says that it “was not the season for figs (Mark 11:13).” This is why Jesus didn’t go to another tree. This tree was an early bloomer, it stood out. Jesus is on the highway to Jerusalem and Figgy’s Diner had a light flashing “open.” Jesus pulls off the highway, but the doors are locked and the place is desolate. This tree flirts fruit, but only gives leaves. R.T. France comments, “Its precocious show of foliage promised, but did not provide.”

That information is helpful, but much more helpful are texts like this:

Like grapes in the wilderness, I found Israel. Like the first fruit on the fig tree in its first season, I saw your fathers. But they came to Baal-peor and consecrated themselves to the thing of shame, and became detestable like the thing they loved. Ephraim’s glory shall fly away like a bird— no birth, no pregnancy, no conception! Even if they bring up children, I will bereave them till none is left. Woe to them when I depart from them! Ephraim, as I have seen, was like a young palm planted in a meadow; but Ephraim must lead his children out to slaughter. Give them, O Lord— what will you give? Give them a miscarrying womb and dry breasts. Every evil of theirs is in Gilgal; there I began to hate them. Because of the wickedness of their deeds I will drive them out of my house. I will love them no more; all their princes are rebels. Ephraim is stricken; their root is dried up; they shall bear no fruit. Even though they give birth, I will put their beloved children to death. —Hosea 9:10-16 (ESV)

The fig tree is often a metaphor for Israel. Fruit is expected, but Israel proves fruitless. John the Baptizer said “even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees (Luke 3:9).” Jesus is the lumberjack. This miracle is the only miracle of judgment, of cursing, we see Jesus do, and it plops itself right here after Jesus purges the temple, and before he has a showdown with the priests. The point? There are lots of leaves, but no fruit, so the axe is coming down.

Are you a “Christian” of leafy show? Like Adam and Eve do you try to hide behind leaves of your own making? Church attendance, Bible study, small group participation, zestful singing, being involved in lots of Christian activities and programs can be nothing more than leafy show. How do you know if you are producing bitter leaves or sweet fruit? Here is a question to help you answer that question; do you approach things like prayer, Bible study, the worship gathering, as leaves to show, or streams to tap your roots into? Do you say of the things listed above, “I do…,” or “I need…”?