8. The Parables: Do You Get the Point?
The Parables: Do You Get the Point?
It should be noted at the outset that everything said in the preceding chapter about the teaching of Jesus in the Gospels holds true for the parables. Why then should the parables need a chapter of their own in a book like this? How could these simple, direct little stories Jesus told pose problems for the reader or the interpreter? It seems that one would have to be a dullard of the first rank to miss the point of the Good Samaritan or the Prodigal Son. The very reading of these stories pricks the heart or comforts it.
Yet a special chapter is necessary because, for all their charm and simplicity, the parables have suffered a fate of misinterpretation in the church second only to the book of Revelation.
THE PARABLES IN HISTORY
The reason for the long history of the misinterpretation of the parables can be traced back to something Jesus himself said, as recorded in Mark 4:10 – 12 (// Matt 13:10–13 // Luke 8:9 – 10). When asked about the purpose of parables, he seems to have suggested that they contained mysteries for those on the inside, while they hardened those on the outside. Because he then proceeded to “interpret” the parable of the sower in a semi-allegorical way, this was seen to give license to the hardening theory and endless allegorical interpretations. The parables were considered to be simple stories for those on the outside to whom the “real meanings,” the “mysteries,” were hidden; these belonged only to the church and could be uncovered by means of allegory.
Thus as great and brilliant a scholar as Augustine offers the following interpretation of the parable of the good Samaritan:
A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho = Adam
Jerusalem = the heavenly city of peace, from which Adam fell
Jericho = the moon, and thereby signifies Adam’s mortality
robbers = the devil and his angels
stripped him = of his immortality
beat him = by persuading him to sin
leaving him half dead = as a man he lives, but he died spiritually; therefore he is half dead
the priest and Levite = the priesthood and ministry of the Old Testament
the Samaritan = is said to mean Guardian; therefore Christ himself is meant
bandaged his wounds = binding the restraint of sin
oil = comfort of good hope
wine = exhortation to work with a fervent spirit
donkey (“beast”) = the flesh of Christ’s incarnation
inn = the church
the next day = after the resurrection
two silver coins = promise of this life and the life to come
innkeeper = Paul
As novel and interesting as all of this may be, one can be absolutely certain that it is not what Jesus intended. After all, the context clearly calls for an understanding of human relationships (Who is my neighbor?), not divine to human; and there is no reason to think that Jesus would predict the church and Paul in this obtuse fashion!
Indeed it is extremely doubtful whether most of the parables were intended for an inner circle at all. In at least three instances Luke specifically says that Jesus told parables to people (15:3; 18:9; 19:11) with the clear implication that the parables were to be understood, at least at one level. Moreover, the “expert in the law” to whom Jesus told the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25 – 37) clearly understood it (vv. 36 – 37), as did the chief priests and Pharisees the parable of the tenants (Matt 21:45). Their problem was not with understanding but with letting the parables alter their behavior!
If we have trouble at times understanding the parables, it is not because they are allegories for which we need some special interpretive keys. Rather it is related to some things we suggested in the previous chapter on the Gospels. One of the keys to understanding the parables lies in discovering the original audience to whom they were spoken; as we noted, many times they came down to the authors of the Gospels without a context.
If the parables, then, 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 mēthal, 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 mēthal, a riddle, to them. Hence his speaking in mathlîn (parables) was part of the mēthal (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.
Our exegesis of the parables, therefore, must begin with the same assumptions that we have brought to every other genre so far. Jesus was not trying to be obtuse; he fully intended to be understood. Our task is first of all to try to hear what they heard. But before we can do this adequately, we must begin by looking at the question, what is a parable, since in English this word covers a variety of forms of indirect speech.
THE NATURE OF THE PARABLES
The Variety of Kinds
The first item one must note is that not all the sayings we label as parables are of the same kind. There is a basic difference, for example, between the Good Samaritan (true parable) on the one hand and the Yeast in the Dough (similitude) on the other, and both of these differ from the saying, “You are the salt of the earth” (metaphor), or “Do people pick grapes from thorn bushes, or figs from thistles?” (epigram). Yet all of these from time to time have been brought into discussions of the parables.
The Good Samaritan is an example of a true parable. It is a story, pure and simple, with a beginning and an ending; it has something of a “plot.” Other such story parables include the Lost Sheep, the Prodigal Son, the Great Banquet, the Workers in the Vineyard, the Rich Man and Lazarus, and the Ten Virgins.
The Yeast in the Dough, on the other hand, is more of a similitude. What is said of the yeast, or the sower, or the mustard seed was always true of yeast, sowing, or mustard seeds. Such “parables” are more like illustrations taken from everyday life, which Jesus used to make a point.
Beyond this, such sayings as “You are the salt of the earth” differ from both of these. These are sometimes called parabolic sayings, but in reality they are metaphors and similes. At times they seem to function in a way similar to the similitude, but their point — their reason for being spoken — is considerably different.
It should be noted further that in some cases, especially that of the Wicked Tenants (Matt 21:33 – 44 // Mark 12:1–11 // Luke 20:9 – 18), a parable may approach something very close to allegory, where many of the details in a story are intended to represent something else (such as in Augustine’s misinterpretation of the Good Samaritan). But the parables are not allegories — even if at times they have what appear to us to be allegorical features. The reason we can be sure of this has to do with their differing functions.
Because the parables are not all of one kind, one cannot necessarily lay down rules that will cover them all. What we say here is intended for the parables proper, but much of what is said will cover the other types as well.
How the Parables Function
The best clues as to what the parables are is to be found in their function. In contrast to most of the parabolic sayings, such as not reaping figs from thorn bushes (Luke 6:43), the story parables do not serve to illustrate Jesus’ prosaic teaching with word pictures. Nor are they told to serve as vehicles for revealing truth — although they end up clearly doing that. Rather the story parables function as a striking way of calling forth a response on the part of the hearer. In a sense, the parable itself is the message. It is told to address and capture the hearers, to bring them up short about their own actions, or to cause them to respond in some way to Jesus and his ministry. Indeed, this chapter is being rewritten shortly after watching Spielberg’s marvelous film presentation of Lincoln, whose own personal wit and story-telling had a similar effect on his hearers — love or hate.
It is this “call for response” nature of the parable that causes our great dilemma in interpreting them. For in some ways to interpret a parable is to destroy what it was originally. It is like interpreting a joke. The whole point of a joke and what makes it funny is that the hearer has immediacy with it as it is being told. It is funny to the hearer precisely because they get “caught,” as it were. How a joke ends is not what one instinctively expects from how it began. But it can only catch someone if they understand the points of reference in the joke. If you have to interpret the joke by explaining the points of reference, it no longer catches the hearer and therefore fails to capture the same quality of laughter. When the joke is interpreted, it can then be understood all right and may still be funny (at least one understands what one should have laughed at), but it ceases to have the same impact. Thus it no longer functions in the same way.
So it is with the parables. They were spoken, and we may assume that most of the hearers had an immediate identification with the points of reference that caused them to catch the point — or be caught by it. For us, however, the parables are in written form. We may or may not immediately catch the points of reference, and therefore they can never function for us in quite the same way they did for the first hearers. But by interpreting we usually are able to understand what they caught, or what we would have caught had we been there. And this is what we must do in our exegesis. The hermeneutical task lies beyond that: How do we recapture the punch of the parables in our own times and our own settings?
THE EXEGESIS OF THE PARABLES
Finding the Points of Reference
Let us go back to our analogy of the joke. The two items that capture the hearer of a joke and elicit a response of laughter are the same two that captured the hearers of Jesus’ parables, namely, their knowledge of the points of reference, which in turn caused them to recognize the unexpected turn in the story. The keys to understanding are the points of reference — those various parts of the story with which one automatically identifies as it is being told. If one misses these in a joke, then there can be no unexpected turn, because the points of reference are what create the ordinary expectations. To put it bluntly, an explained joke is no joke at all. Similarly, if one misses the points of reference in a parable, then the force and the point of what Jesus said is likewise going to be missed.
What we mean by points of reference can best be illustrated from a parable of Jesus (Luke 7:40 – 42) recorded in its full original context (vv. 36 – 50). In the context Jesus has been invited to dinner by a Pharisee named Simon. But the invitation was not to be considered as being “in honor of a visiting famous rabbi.” The failure to offer Jesus even the common hospitality of the day was surely intended as something of a put-down. When the town prostitute finds her way into the presence of the diners and makes a fool of herself over Jesus by washing his feet with her tears and wiping them with her hair, it only fortifies the Pharisees’ suspicions. Jesus could not be a prophet and leave uncondemned this kind of public disgrace.
Knowing their thoughts, Jesus tells his host a simple story. Two men owed money to a moneylender. One owed five hundred denarii (a denarius was a day’s wage); the other owed fifty. Neither could pay, so he canceled the debts of both. The point: Who, do you think, would have responded to the moneylender with the greater display of love?
This story needed no interpretation, although Jesus proceeded to drive the point home with full force. There are three points of reference: the moneylender and the two debtors. And the identifications are immediate. God is like the moneylender; the town harlot and Simon are like the two debtors. The parable is a word of judgment calling for response from Simon. He could scarcely have missed the point. When it is over, he has egg all over his face. Such is the force of a parable.
We should note further that the woman heard the parable as well. She, too, will identify with the story as it is being told. But what she will hear is not judgment, but Jesus’ — and therefore God’s — acceptance of her.
Note well: This is not an allegory; it is a parable. A true allegory is a story where each element in the story means something quite foreign to the story itself. Allegory would give meaning to the five hundred denarii and the fifty denarii, as well as to any other details one might find. Furthermore, and this is especially important, the point of the parable is not in the points of reference, as it would be in a true allegory. The points of reference are only those parts of the story that draw the hearer into it, parts with which one is to identify in some way as the story proceeds. The point of the story is to be found in the intended response. In this parable it is a word of judgment on Simon and his friends or a word of acceptance and forgiveness to the woman.
Identifying the Audience
In the above illustration we also pointed out the significance of identifying the audience, because the meaning of the parable has to do with how it was originally heard. For many of the parables, of course, the audience is given in the Gospels. In such cases the task of interpretation is a combination of three things: (1) sit and listen to the parable again and again, (2) identify the points of reference intended by Jesus that would have been picked up by the original hearers, and (3) try to determine how the original hearers would have identified with the story, and therefore what they would have heard.
Let us try this on two well-known parables: the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25 – 37) and the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11 – 32). In the case of the Good Samaritan, the story is told to an expert in the law who, wanting to justify himself, Luke says, had asked, “And who is my neighbor?” As you read the parable again and again, you will notice that it does not answer the question the way it was asked. But in a more telling way it exposes the smug self-righteousness of the questioner. He knows what the law says about loving one’s neighbor as oneself, and he is ready to define “neighbor” in terms that will demonstrate that he piously obeys the law.
There are really only two points of reference in the story — the man in the ditch and the Samaritan — although other details in the parable help to build the effect. Two items in particular need to be noted: (1) The two who pass by on the other side are priestly types — the religious order that stands over against the rabbis and the Pharisees, who are the experts in the law. (2) Almsgiving to the poor was the Pharisees’ big thing. This was how they loved their neighbors as themselves.
Notice, then, how the teacher of the law is going to get caught by the parable. A man falls into the hands of robbers on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, a common enough event. Two priestly types next go down the road and pass by on the other side. The story is being told from the point of view of the man in the ditch, and the teacher of the law has now been “set up.” Of course, he would think to himself, who could expect anything else from priests? The next person down will be a Pharisee, and he will show himself neighborly by helping the poor chap. But no, it turns out to be a Samaritan! You will have to appreciate how contemptuously the Pharisees held the Samaritans if you are going to hear what he heard. Notice that he is not able even to bring himself to use the word “Samaritan” at the end. This outsider is merely “the one who”!
Do you see what Jesus has done to this man? The second Great Commandment is to love one’s neighbor as oneself. The expert in the law had neat little systems that allowed him to love within limits. What Jesus does is to expose the prejudice and hatred of his heart, and therefore his real lack of obedience to this commandment. “Neighbor” can no longer be defined in limiting terms. His lack of love is not that he will not have helped the man in the ditch but that he hates Samaritans (and looks down on priests). In effect, the parable destroys the question rather than answering it.
Similarly, we may consider the Prodigal Son. The context is the Pharisees’ murmuring over Jesus’ acceptance of and eating with the wrong kind of people (Luke 15:1 – 2). The three parables of lost things that follow are Jesus’ justification of his actions. In the parable of the lost son there are just three points of reference — the father and his two sons. Here again, where one sat determined how one heard, but in either case the point is the same: God not only freely forgives the lost but accepts them with great joy. Those who consider themselves righteous reveal themselves to be unrighteous if they do not share the father’s and the lost son’s joy.
Jesus’ table companions, of course, will identify with the lost son, as all of us well should. But this is not the real force of the parable, which is to be found in the attitude of the second son. He was “always with” the father, yet he had put himself on the outside. He failed to share the father’s heart with its love for a lost son. As a friend recently put it, “Can you imagine anything worse than coming home and falling into the hands of the older brother?” Ouch!
In each of these cases, and others, the exegetical difficulties you will encounter will stem mostly from the cultural gap between you and Jesus’ original audience, which may cause you to miss some of the finer points that go into the makeup of the whole story. Here is where you will probably need outside help. But do not neglect these matters, for the cultural customs are what help to give the original stories their life.
The “Contextless” Parables
But what of those parables that are found in the Gospels without their original historical context? Since we have already illustrated this concern in the previous chapter, from the parable of the workers in the vineyard (Matt 20:1 – 16), we will only briefly review here. Again, it is a matter of trying to determine the points of reference and the original audience. The key is in the repeated rereading of the parable until its points of reference clearly emerge. Usually this will also give one an instant clue to its original audience.
Thus in the Workers in the Vineyard, there are only three points of reference: the landowner, the full-day workers, and the one-hour workers. This is easily determined because these are the only people brought into focus as the story wraps up. The original audience is also easily determined. Who would have been “caught” by a story like this? Obviously the hearers who identify with the full-day laborers, since they alone are in focus at the end.
The point is similar to that of the Prodigal Son. God is gracious, and the righteous should not begrudge God’s generosity. What has happened in its present Matthean context in this instance, however, is that the same point is now being made to a new audience. In the context of discipleship it serves as an assurance of God’s generosity, despite the condemnation or hatred of others.
One can see this same scenario happening in Matthew’s version of the parable of the lost sheep (18:12 – 14). In Luke’s gospel this parable functions along with the Lost Coin and Prodigal Son as a word to the Pharisees. The lost sheep is clearly a sinner, whose finding brings joy in heaven. Again, as a word to the Pharisees, it justifies Jesus’ acceptance of the outcasts; but when heard by the outcasts it assures them that they are the objects of the loving shepherd’s search. In Matthew, the parable is a part of the collection of sayings on relationships within the kingdom. In this new context the same point is being made: God’s care for the lost. But here the “lost” are sheep who have “wandered off.” In Matthew’s context it speaks to the question of what we are to do for those “little ones” who are of weak faith and who tend to go astray. Just before the parable (vv. 6 – 9) Matthew’s community is told that no one of them had better be responsible for causing a “little one” to go astray. The parable of the lost sheep (vv. 10 – 14), on the other hand, tells them they should seek out the wandering one and love them back into the fold. Same parable, same point, but to a brand-new audience.
The Parables of the Kingdom
So far our illustrations have all been taken from parables of conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees. But there is a much larger group of parables — the parables of the kingdom — that need special mention. It is true that all of the parables we have already looked at are also parables of the kingdom. They express the dawning of the time of salvation with the coming of Jesus. But the parables we have in mind here are those that expressly say, “The kingdom of God is like. . . .”
First, it must be noted that the introduction, “The kingdom of God is like . . . ,” is not to be taken with the first element mentioned in the parable. That is, the kingdom of God is not like a mustard seed, or treasure hidden in a field, or a merchant. The expression literally means, “It is like this with the kingdom of God. . . .” Thus the whole parable tells us something about the nature of the kingdom, not just one of the points of reference or one of the details.
Second, it is tempting to treat these parables differently from those we have just looked at, as though they actually were teaching vehicles rather than stories calling for response. But that would be to abuse them. Granted, the divinely inspired collections in Mark 4 and Matthew 13 in their present arrangement are intended to teach us about the kingdom. But originally these parables were a part of Jesus’ actual proclamation of the kingdom as dawning with his own coming. They are themselves vehicles of the message, calling for response to Jesus’ invitation and call to discipleship.
Take, for example, the interpreted parable of the sower (Mark 4:3 – 20; Matt 13:3 – 23; Luke 8:5 – 15), which is rightfully seen by Mark as the key to the rest. You will notice that what Jesus has interpreted are the points of reference: The four kinds of soil are like four kinds of responses to the proclamation of the kingdom. But the point of the parable is the urgency of the hour: “Take heed how you hear. The word is being sown — the message of the good news of the kingdom, the joy of forgiveness, the demand and gift of discipleship. It is before all, so listen, take heed; be fruitful soil.” It will be noted, therefore, that most of these parables are addressed to the multitudes as potential disciples.
Since these parables are indeed parables of the kingdom, we find them proclaiming the kingdom as “already/not yet.” But their main thrust is the “already.” The kingdom has already come; God’s hour is at hand. Therefore, the present moment is one of great urgency. Such urgency in Jesus’ proclamation has a twofold thrust: (1) Judgment is impending; disaster and catastrophe are at the door. (2) But there is good news: salvation is freely offered to all.
Let us look at a couple of parables that illustrate these two aspects of the message.
1. We begin with the parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:16 – 20), which Luke has set in a context of attitudes toward possessions in light of the presence of the kingdom. The parable is easy enough. A rich man, because of his hard work, thinks he has secured his life and is resting complacently. But as Jesus says elsewhere, “Whoever wants to save their life will lose it” (Matt 16:25 // Mark 8:35 // Luke 9:24). Thus the man is a fool in the biblical sense — he tries to live without taking God into account. But sudden disaster is about to overtake him.
The point of the parable, you will note, is not the unexpectedness of death. It is the urgency of the hour. The kingdom is at hand. One is a fool to live for possessions, for self-security, when the end is right at the door. Note how this is supported by the context. A man wants his brother to divide the inheritance. But Jesus refuses to become involved in their arbitration. His point is that desire for possession of property is irrelevant in light of the present moment.
This is also how we should understand that most difficult of parables — the Shrewd Manager (Luke 16:1 – 8). Again, the story is simple enough. A property manager was embezzling, or otherwise squandering, his master’s money. He was called to produce accounts and knew his number was up, so he pulled off one more enormous rip-off. He let all those owing money adjust their accounts themselves, probably hoping to secure friends on the outside. The punch of this parable, and the part most of us have difficulty handling as well, is that the original hearers expect disapproval. Instead this monkey business is praised!
What could possibly be Jesus’ point in telling a story like that? Most likely he is challenging his hearers with the urgency of the hour. If they are properly indignant over such a story, how much more should they apply the lessons to themselves. They are in the same position as the manager who saw imminent disaster, but the crisis that threatens them is incomparably more terrible. That man acted (note that Jesus does not excuse his action); he did something about his situation. For you, too, Jesus seems to be saying, the urgency of the hour demands action; everything is at stake.
2. The urgent hour that calls for action, repentance, is also the time of salvation. Thus the kingdom as present is also Good News. In the twin parables of the hidden treasure and the pearl of great value (Matt 13:44 – 46), the emphasis is on the joy of discovery. The kingdom overtakes the one; it is sought by the other. In joy they liquidate their holdings for the treasure and the pearl. The kingdom is not the treasure; and it is not the pearl. The kingdom is God’s gift. The “discovery” of the kingdom brings unutterable joy. You will notice how this same motif is thoroughgoing also in the three parables of the lost things in Luke 15.
This, then, is how one needs to learn to read and study the parables. They are not to be allegorized. They are to be heard — heard as calls to respond to Jesus and his mission.
THE HERMENEUTICAL QUESTION
The hermeneutical task posed by the parables is unique. It has to do with the fact that when they were originally spoken, they seldom needed interpretation. They had immediacy for the hearers, inasmuch as part of the effect of many of them was their ability to “catch” the hearer. Yet they come to us in written form and in need of interpretation precisely because we lack the immediate understanding of the points of reference the original hearers had. What, then, do we do? We suggest two things.
1. As always, we concern ourselves basically with the parables in their present biblical contexts. The parables are in a written context, and through the exegetical process just described we can discover their meaning, their point, with a high degree of accuracy. What we need to do then is what Matthew did (e.g., 18:10 – 14; 20:1 – 16): translate that same point into our own context.
With the story parables one might even try retelling the story in such a way that, with new points of reference, one’s own hearers might feel the anger, or joy, the original hearers experienced. The following version of the Good Samaritan is not defended as inspired! Hopefully it will illustrate a hermeneutical possibility. As an audience it assumes a typical, well-dressed, middle-American Protestant congregation.
A family of disheveled, unkempt individuals was stranded by the side of a major road on a Sunday morning. They were in obvious distress. The mother was sitting on a tattered suitcase, hair uncombed, clothes in disarray, with a glazed look to her eyes, holding a smelly, poorly clad, crying baby. The father was unshaved, dressed in coveralls, a look of despair on his face as he tried to corral two other youngsters. Beside them was a run-down old car that had obviously just given up the ghost.
Down the road came a car driven by the local bishop; he was on his way to church. And though the father of the family waved frantically, the bishop could not hold up his parishioners, so he acted as though he didn’t see them.
Soon came another car and again the father waved furiously. But the car was driven by the president of the Kiwanis Club, and he was late for a statewide meeting of Kiwanis presidents in a nearby city. He, too, acted as though he did not see them and kept his eyes straight on the road ahead of him.
The next car that came by was driven by an outspoken local atheist, who had never been to church in his life. When he saw the family’s distress, he took them into his own car. After inquiring as to their need, he took them to a local motel, where he paid for a week’s lodging while the father found work. He also paid for the father to rent a car so he could look for work and gave the mother cash for food and new clothes.
One of the authors presented this story once. The startled and angry response made it clear that his hearers had really “heard” the parable for the first time in their lives. You will notice how true to the original context this is. The evangelical Protestant was thinking, of course, about the bishop and the Kiwanis president. Then, surely one of my own will be next. After all, we have always talked about the Good Samaritan as though Samaritans were the most respected of people. But nothing would be more offensive to the good churchgoer than to praise the actions of an atheist, which, of course, is precisely where the expert in the law was at the original telling.
This may be a bit strong for some, and we insist that you make sure you have done your exegesis with great care before you try it. But our experience is that most of us are a bit high on ourselves, and the retelling of some of Jesus’ parables would help to get at our own lack of forgiveness (Matt 18:23 – 35), or our own anger at grace when we want God to be “fair” (Matt 20:1 – 6), or our pride in our own position in Christ as compared to the “bad guys” (Luke 18:9 – 14). We did not know whether to laugh or cry when we were told of a Sunday school teacher who, after an hour of excellent instruction on this latter parable in which he had thoroughly explained the abuses of Pharisaism, concluded in prayer — in all seriousness: “Thank you, Lord, that we are not like the Pharisee in this story”! And we had to remind each other not to laugh too hard, lest our laughter be saying, “Thank you, Lord, that we are not like that Sunday school teacher.”
2. Our other hermeneutical suggestion is related to the fact that all of Jesus’ parables are in some way vehicles that proclaim the kingdom. Hence it is necessary for you to immerse yourself in the meaning of the kingdom in the ministry of Jesus. In this regard we highly recommend that you read George E. Ladd’s The Presence of the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974).
The urgent message of the kingdom as present and soon to be consummated is still needed in our own day. Those who are trying to secure their lives by possessions urgently need to hear the word of impending judgment, and the lost desperately need to hear the Good News. Joachim Jeremias eloquently put it this way (Rediscovering the Parables [New York: Scribner, 1966], p. 181):
The hour of fulfillment has come; that is the keynote of them all. The strong man is disarmed, the powers of evil have to yield, the physician has come to the sick, the lepers are cleansed, the heavy burden of guilt is removed, the lost sheep is brought home, the door of the Father’s house is opened, the poor and the beggars are summoned to the banquet, a master whose kindness is undeserved pays wages in full, a great joy fills all hearts. God’s acceptable year has come. For there has appeared the one whose veiled majesty shines through every word and every parable — the Saviour.