I believe that in this chapter the Lord's thoughts from beginning to end are in company with Israel and Jerusalem. Many things filled the Lord's eye — the world, and the land of Israel, and, in the land, the city. So it will be, no doubt, in the millennium — the nations, with Israel as the metropolitan part of the earth, with Jerusalem in their midst. In this rich, varied scenery, the church holds a special part in peculiar relationship to Christ.
Are you not charmed when thoughts flow naturally? We do not like anything artificial. The Lord here had a piece of the news of the day brought to Him. He hears it, as it may be, and at once tells how to make use of it. The style is homely; you do not want to be in a foreign land with Christ. At once He turns and says, Do you think that those were sinners above all? No; but except ye repent ye shall all likewise perish. Now, this is not exactly the doom of sinners. It is true, if we do not believe, we have no life; but here the Lord had the nation in His mind, and if they did not repent, they would perish. The blood of the Galileans, shed by a Roman soldier, stood out as representing the judgment coming on the nation generally.
Then there is exceeding prophetic beauty in the tower of Siloam. The judgment of Israel was the judgment of the descending stone. Upon whomsoever that stone should fall, it should grind him to powder. There is exquisite beauty in this, and perfect prophetic truthfulness. I grant you, sinners will perish, but the Lord's mind is more perfect than yours. He is looking at Jerusalem's condition as ripe for the judgment of God.
Having said this, He indites the parable of the fig tree. This is just a beautiful parabolic picture of what the Lord had been doing with Israel. He was traveling through the land for three years in long—suffering. Did you ever mark the departing glory in Ezekiel? how it lingers, passing from cherubim to cherubim, loath to leave its ancient place? So loath is the divine favor to leave an object that has engaged it. And will you not allow the Lord to be reluctant in withdrawing Himself from a nation that has so much engaged Him? The whole ministry of Jesus was the lingering of the love of God over unrepentant Israel. Suppose He had executed judgment when the Bethlehemite was refused; Israel would have perished. But He lingered for three years. Righteousness from the throne said, “Cut it down”; grace in the vinedresser said, “Let it alone.” The three years spent themselves, and then, after that, He cut it down.
The tower of Siloam fell — the sword of the Roman came in and did the work of judgment. Now there comes the woman with the spirit of infirmity, and the ruler; and here comes out the secret of all the terrible judgment the Lord had been anticipating. Judgment is His strange work. He is provoked to judgment — grace is from Himself. The stone that fell was provoked by the unfruitful disappointment of the fig tree He had dressed year after year. Judgment is provoked; grace springs naturally. Why did salvation ever visit us? Did our good works provoke it? God's nature was the provocation of salvation; sin provoked judgment. It is blessed to see how God stands vindicated before all our thoughts.
The ruler is indignant that Jesus had healed on the Sabbath day. Here was the representative of the need of Israel, standing out in the poor woman, and the representative of the moral condition of Israel standing out in the ruler that talked about healing for six days. You know what John Newton says: “If the most patient man that ever lived had the ruling of the earth, he could not stand it for a single hour.” What do you do with your ass on the Sabbath day? says the Lord. How He exposes the man to himself, that he positively valued his ass more than his 'fellow creature! Then, having looked at this terrible apostasy, He goes on in the parable following to keep apostasy in view. It is the story of the kingdom of God, as well as the kingdom of Israel. We are in that story and not a whit better than Israel. It is a leavened thing — a thing that lodges the unclean birds. Can you rest yourself in Christendom? The birds of the air have found a home there. Can you? Or are you walking as a stranger there? Too often strangership is overborne by citizenship; but the mind of Christ can never rest in such a world. The Lord's eye passes on, that you and I may be rebuked, as well as Israel.
In verse 22 He is pursuing His way to Jerusalem. Did you ever observe in the structure of Luke's Gospel that the great bulk of it is made up of the Lord's doings and teachings on the journey to Jerusalem? You see Him in chapters 9, 13 and 18 on His way; but He is looking at the distant city, in different places, in different lights. In chapter 9, it is as the place that was to witness His ascension; here, as the place about to fill up the measure of its sin by crucifying Him; and in chapter 18, as the place where He was to finish His journey as the Lamb of God. The mind of Christ is a beautiful thing, dealing with everything variously, yet accurately. Do you not long for such a fruitful mind?
Now as He is thus addressing Himself to the journey, one says to Him, “Lord, are there few that be saved?” No doubt the man saw something in His eye that awakened the question.
No doubt those that marked His bearing often saw something significant in it, as when the disciples held back in chapter 4 of John. So here, as He went on, one said, “Are there few that be saved?” Does He say “few” or “many”? Does He answer categorically? No. There is a style among ourselves that is often painful. You hear people say, Is he a Christian — Is he a Christian? We are not to confound light and darkness, but we ought not to answer such naked questions so serious in their import. He does not say “many” or “few,” but, You seek to get in. He looks at the inquirer, not the inquiry.
Are the striving and seeking in verse 24 merely different measures of the same thing? No. They are not different measures of intensity, but different actions. The man that seeks does so after the master of the house is risen up — at the last moment —but see that you begin beforehand. Do not let the rising up put you in that attitude of a seeker. Take the ground of Christ now, not the terror of a seeker then. The Lord's ministry dealt with three persons — God, Satan, and man. For a little moment let me present a few qualities of His ministry as addressed to man. He was ever exposing, relieving, and exercising him. He was letting him see himself to be a poor worthless thing, and then relieving him. Is it not blessed to see Him exposing your wretchedness, and providing relief out of it? We have to do with a faithful friend, not a flattering friend. But while exposing and relieving, He was exercising too. He called the conscience and heart into activity. Was He not putting the conscience of this man on a goodly piece of moral activity? If you could part with one of these things, the ministry of Christ would be defective. Then the Lord goes on to show the plea the seeker may put in. But “depart from Me.” It will not do. He pleads his privileges and intimacy. “We have eaten and drunk in Thy presence, and Thou hast taught in our streets.” “Depart from Me.” It will not do. “There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” What is the difference between the two? Do not confound them. Weeping is the expression of sorrow; gnashing of teeth is the expression of wickedness, as in Stephen's case, when they “gnashed upon him with their teeth.” The incurred iniquity and villainy of the human heart is there, and they know it forever. If the condemned soul carries its sorrow, it carries its enmity too forever. These are serious thoughts.
Now we find the Lord approaching the city and He comes into Herod's jurisdiction, and they say to Him, “Depart hence; for Herod will kill Thee.” “Go... tell that fox,” He answers. How He looked in the face of that monster and let him know He would move on unfearing. He exposes him as a fox and reveals Himself by the similitude of the hen. This is the story of Israel. They refused the hen, and preferred the fox; and, because of the mountain of Israel that lies desolate, the Roman foxes and the Turk and the Arab have walked there. Jesus would have gathered them, but they would not; and the foxes shall walk there till He that can gather as the hen is received, and they shall say, “Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.” When they shall turn to the Lord, and the veil be taken away, and He, as the gathering hen, be accepted, in the homely style of this beautiful figure, Israel shall blossom and bud and fill the face of the earth with fruit.
Read Isaiah 54 and Luke 15 and you will find yourself in company with the same God of grace. In Isaiah 54, Jerusalem is looked at as a widowed thing. The Lord had said, “Where is the bill of your mother's divorcement?” Did I get tired of her? But in chapter 54 there is not a thought of divorcement but widowhood. In chapter 15 of Luke, when the prodigal is introduced, is it, This is my wicked son? No, but, my lost and dead son. Oh, the tenderness and beauty of this! He does not wish to keep our iniquity in remembrance, but our sorrow, and will not introduce Jerusalem as a thing once put to shame, but as one long in sorrow and widowhood. The divine eye has no capacity to look on that which is worthless, but on that which is dead, and alive again, lost and found. Why has the Lord so little of our hearts? Just because we so little know Him. May He reveal Himself to each one of us, and discover Himself before the thoughts of our souls. Amen.