The Kingdom and the Crown

by Gerald N. Lund

  Peter smiled as he thought of his own wedding to Anna years before. Anna’s aunt had misplaced a jar of oil, and it was only later that Peter learned how frantic the women had been to find enough to share. The wedding had been a glorious affair, and the many handheld lamps in the crowds had shimmered like a canopy of stars. Peter had even kept one lamp as a memento of that special, sacred evening.

  “But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. And at midnight there was a cry made, ‘Behold, the bridegroom cometh. Go ye out to meet him.’”

  Yes, Peter thought. That was exactly how it happened. When he had been the eager young bridegroom, his family had gone out into the streets lighting the lamps. Then the cry went up from mouth to mouth until the whole town was alive with it. “Here he comes! Here comes the bridegroom.”

  Jesus went on. “Then all those virgins arose and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, ‘Give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out.’ But the wise answered, saying, ‘Not so, lest there be not enough for us and you as well. But go to them that sell and buy for yourselves.’ And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came. And they that were ready went in with him to the marriage, and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, ‘Lord, Lord, open to us.’ But he answered and said, ‘Verily I say unto you, I know you not.’”

  Jesus’ eyes once again moved from face to face. “Watch, therefore,” he said again with great solemnity, “for you know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.”

  Peter swallowed hard. He looked at Jesus, whose attention remained fixed on the Holy City. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Jesus spoke first.

  “The kingdom of heaven is also like a man traveling into a far country, who called his servants and delivered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one—to every man according to his several ability. Then straightway he took his journey.

  “Then he that had received the five talents went and traded with the same, and increased them by five talents. And likewise he that had received two, he also gained another two. But he that had received one went and dug in the earth and hid his lord’s money.

  “After a long time the lord of those servants returned and called for a reckoning. And so he that had received five talents came and brought five more talents, saying, ‘Lord, you delivered to me five talents. Behold, I have gained beside them five talents more.’ Then his lord said unto him, ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Thou hast been faithful over a few things, so I will make thee ruler over many things. Enter thou into the joy of your lord.’

  “He also that had received two talents came and said, ‘Lord, you delivered to me two talents. Behold, I have gained two other talents beside them.’ His lord said unto him, ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Thou hast been faithful over a few things, so I will make thee ruler over many things. Enter thou into the joy of thy lord.’”

  He had their rapt attention. Even though this was likely another parable, they listened as intently as if it had just happened.

  “Then,” Jesus went on, “he which had received the one talent came and said, ‘Lord, I knew that you are a hard man, reaping where you have not sown and gathering where you have not strawed. And I was afraid and went and hid your talent in the earth. Lo, here is what you gave to me.’

  “His lord answered and said unto him, ‘Thou wicked and slothful servant. You knew that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed. At the very least, you ought to have put my money to the exchangers. Then at my coming, I should have received mine own with usury. Take therefore the talent from him, and give it to him which hath ten talents. For unto every one that hath, it shall be given, and he shall have abundance. But from him that hath not, it shall be taken away even that which he hath. And cast this unprofitable servant into outer darkness where there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’”

  No one spoke. Peter tried to understand how these two stories answered John’s question about preparing oneself. Finally Matthew raised a hand. “Master?”

  “Yes, Matthew?”

  “We know that the oil in the sacred lampstands of the temple represents the Spirit of God, giving out light and understanding for all to see.”

  Jesus nodded in encouragement.

  “So would not the first parable then suggest that only as we have the Spirit will we be ready to meet the Bridegroom when he comes?”

  “Without the Spirit we can do nothing,” James came in. “It is the only way we can know the will of the Lord for us.”

  Jesus smiled. “Go on.”

  Andrew ventured a guess. “Would not the talents given to the servants by their lord represent the blessings and gifts that are given us of God? If we do not use those gifts in serving him, if we do not give our best efforts to building up the kingdom, then the Lord has good reason to call us slothful servants.”

  Jesus was pleased. “You have all spoken well. Now I would speak one more parable to you.”

  Peter leaned forward, eager to be taught more.

  “When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory. And before him shall be gathered all nations, and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats.”

  Even though Peter was a fisherman, he clearly understood the vivid image. The hillsides of the Galilee were dotted with black and white sheep and goats grazing together. From a distance, the animals appeared similar in temperament, but Peter, having once ended up in a ditch from the hard head of a goat, could testify that goats were independent, aggressive, and combative. Sheep, on the other hand, were much more gentle. Sheep were completely dependent on the shepherd for guidance and protection from the triple dangers of being lost, scattered, or killed.

  “And he shall set the sheep on his right hand,” Jesus continued, “but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, ‘Come, ye blessed of my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world, for I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me. I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.’

  “Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when saw we thee an hungered and fed thee? or thirsty and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger and took thee in?’”

  Jesus leaned forward, speaking very earnestly. “And the King shall answer and say unto them, ‘Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.’

  “Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, ‘Depart from me, ye cursed, into that everlasting fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels, for I was hungered, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and in prison, and ye visited me not.’

  “Then shall they also answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?’ And the king shall answer them, ‘Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.’ And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal.”

  Peter looked down at his hands. He had been a fisher of men for three years now, but he still had a fisherman’s hands—strong, scarred, and supple. He slowly clasped them together in his lap. Jesus had given him much to ponder and understand. Peter hoped his hands, and his heart, would be strong enough to bear the coming burdens.

  Chapter Notes

  In what has come to be known as the Olivet Discourse, because it was given while Jesus was on the Mount of Olives, Jesus outlined the events that will precede his se
cond coming and told the disciples how to watch for the time (see Matthew 24:1–51; Mark 13:1–37; Luke 21:5–38). The account given here is greatly shortened.

  In Matthew’s account, Jesus then gave three parables: the ten virgins, the talents, and the sheep and the goats (Matthew 25:1–46). Considering the context in which they were given, these parables have been called by some the “Parables of Preparation.” Having Peter and others speculate on the meaning of the parables is a device of the author to help the readers better understand the significance of the stories and is not part of the scriptural record.

  The prophecy given by Jesus had both immediate and long-range aspects. Some things, such as his promise to come in the clouds of glory, related to his second coming at the end of history. But others had direct reference to the Jewish nation. Some of those living at the time he spoke would live to see these prophecies fulfilled. Thus, Jesus’ prediction, “This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled” (Matthew 24:34).

  In the thirty years that followed Christ’s death, conditions deteriorated in Judea. The Jewish leadership continued to persecute the followers of Jesus, even killing some of the disciples (see Acts 7:58–60; 12:1–3). Pilate was recalled in a.d. 36 and disappeared from history. The Roman procurators became more and more corrupt, and resentment among the Jews intensified until the Zealot factions in the Galilee became extremely violent and radicalized.

  In a.d. 66, Gessius Florus, the Roman governor, demanded a huge bribe from the Jews for a concession they wanted, then refused to honor the agreement. A riot broke out in Caesarea, which was brutally suppressed. That spark lit a much greater conflagration. Rebellion spread across the land like a mighty windstorm. The swiftness and the intensity of the revolt caught the Romans by surprise. Several important garrisons fell to the Jews, including the ostensibly impregnable Masada and the Antonia Fortress in Jerusalem. The Zealots persuaded the Romans at Masada to surrender, then massacred them. They likewise slaughtered the Romans stationed in Jerusalem. In cold fury, the Romans retaliated, annihilating the entire Jewish population in Caesarea. Twenty thousand Jews were killed in the ensuing riots.

  Finally, Cestius Gallus, the legate of Syria, realized he had full-scale war on his hands and sent in a legion under his command. At that point, the prophecy of Jesus became particularly significant. Gallus sent his XII Legion south. It was hardly sufficient, but resistance collapsed before the disciplined troops. Within a few months, Gallus secured the coast and marched on Jerusalem. He hastily threw up a sedge wall around the city, trapping the inhabitants. By this point, the Zealots were battling fiercely among themselves as much as they were fighting the Romans. The chaos was complete. Then, remarkably, Gallus lost his nerve. Though no one knows for sure why—perhaps because winter was approaching—Gallus suddenly decided to withdraw his armies back to Caesarea. They started back down the Beth Horon Pass. Scarcely believing their incredible good fortune, the rebels poured out of Jerusalem and fell upon the retreating legion. It was an utter disaster for the Romans. The XII Legion was so thoroughly annihilated that it was taken out of commission and never reconstituted. Vast stores of arms and siege machines fell into the hands of the Zealots.

  It was at that time that the Christians in the land remembered Jesus’ words, “And when ye shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that the desolation thereof is nigh. Then let them which are in Judaea flee to the mountains” (see Luke 21:20–24). Heeding the warning, the Christians fled the country to Pella, a city of the Decapolis on the east side of the Jordan. Thus, they escaped what was about to come.

  After such a crushing defeat, Rome could no longer ignore the Jewish rebellion. The full power of the empire was sent to stamp it out. By the time Titus, the commanding general, finally conquered Jerusalem in a.d. 70, over a million Jews had been killed, many of them slaughtered on the Temple Mount itself. In the final, desperate hours, the Zealots fled to the inner courts of the temple for defense. Once he finally rooted them out, Titus, determined that never again would these massive stoneworks be used for defense, ordered the temple and all of its buildings leveled. He left only the western wall of the Temple Mount as a witness to the defenses his armies had to overcome. Jesus’ promise that they would see the day when not one stone was left upon the other was literally fulfilled.

  Two years later at Masada, near the shores of the Dead Sea, in the last holdout of the resistance, almost a thousand Jews committed suicide rather than surrender to the Romans. Judea, as a nation of Jews, had ceased to exist. (For an excellent summary of the Jewish revolt, see Frank, pp. 254–73.)

  Chapter 26

  For my people . . . are wise to do evil, but to do good they have no knowledge.

  —Jeremiah 4:22

  I

  Jerusalem, Upper City 2 April, a.d. 33

  Mordechai ben Uzziel was brooding. His heavy eyebrows were pulled down, creating deep lines in his forehead. His eyes scowled darkly as he looked around at the empty room, not seeing anything. His mouth, nearly hidden by his thick, well-trimmed beard, was pinched and hard.

  This mood had been on him for some time, and it took only one word to explain why. Jesus! The carpenter from Nazareth had turned the city upside down. His name was on every set of lips. The people flocked to him like he was some kind of Greek oracle. The Sanhedrin was in chaos. The Pharisees were in disarray. His own Sadducees, who had more direct governing power than anyone other than Pilate, were like paralyzed old men unable to move without aid. They fluttered about, wringing their hands and wailing piteously, but doing nothing.

  Thrice in the last few days, Mordechai had been on the verge of sending a messenger to the Antonia Fortress, asking for a conference with Tribune Marcus Didius. Each time he had finally backed away. The last time he had brought the Romans in to help solve this problem, it had proved to be disastrous. They had a role to play, of that he had no doubt. But their involvement had to be carefully orchestrated, played with meticulous finesse only when the timing was perfect.

  In the meantime, Mordechai brooded.

  His head came up slowly when he heard a soft knock at the door. The scowl became a glare. “What is it?” he snapped. Levi knew full well that his master didn’t like to be disturbed when his door was shut. Unless doing their assigned tasks or otherwise summoned, the dozen or so servants were to stay in their basement quarters and leave the rest of the massive house to its lone family member.

  The door opened a couple of inches. Levi was there—nervous and twitching anxiously.

  “Yes! Yes!” Mordechai’s voice cracked like a whip.

  “Sire, Menachem of Bethphage is here.”

  Sitting back, Mordechai flicked a finger. The door opened a little further. “He says he has a matter of utmost urgency,” the steward said.

  “Then why haven’t you shown him in?”

  Levi disappeared again, and Mordechai heard the slap of sandals walking rapidly across marble. A moment later, heavier footsteps sounded. Mordechai stood up, waiting. He curtly cut off Menachem’s apologies and motioned him in. “Shut the door,” he commanded.

  His fellow Sadducee and protégée on the Great Council stepped inside and shut the door. He was breathing heavily, and beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. Deciding he was grateful for any diversion, Mordechai’s mood softened a little. He motioned to a chair, waited for Menachem to be seated, then returned to his own chair.

  “Sire?” Menachem began. He was nervous too. Obviously Levi had told him of the dangers of interrupting Mordechai at such times as this. “I have some good news.”

  “Really?” There was no hiding the skepticism in his voice.

  “So far our promise of reward for anyone who can deliver Jesus to us has brought in only pimps and harlots and beggars.”

  “This is good news? You had better not have paid out anything to such residents of the dung heap.”

  “Not a shekel,” Menachem agreed, licking his lips quickly. “But . . .”

&n
bsp; Mordechai leaned forward. He could see the eagerness in Menachem’s eyes. “What?”

  “I have someone outside in the courtyard.”

  One eyebrow came up.

  “His name is Judas of Iscariot.”

  “I know of no one by that name.”

  “No, nor did I.” Menachem flashed a momentary grin of triumph. “But Jesus does. Judas is one of his so-called Twelve Apostles.”

  II

  “So,” Mordechai said, holding out a silver cup of wine to his guest. “I understand you are a disciple of this Jesus.”

  “I am.” He took the cup and drank deeply, eagerly.

  Filling his own cup but merely sipping at it, Mordechai sat down again. His eyes studied the man, who accepted the penetrating gaze as if he expected nothing less. The face was intelligent, almost handsome. His robes were not expensive, but they were clean, not shabby in any sense of the word. His face was narrow, giving the dark eyes a more sober look, but when he smiled, that impression immediately disappeared. He seemed pleasant and amiable.

  “You are one of what Jesus calls his Twelve?”

  Judas nodded, ignoring the soft contempt in the other’s voice. “I am. I have been with him for three years now. I am at his side almost every waking hour.”

  “I see. But not tonight.”

  Judas flushed a little, clearly understanding the implied question. “By assignment of the Master, I am the keeper of our bag. It is my duty to procure food and lodging where required.”

  “And you are here now to add to the bag?” Mordechai had to force himself to keep the disgust out of his voice. For all his revulsion at what this man was doing, this was exactly what he had been hoping for. He couldn’t alienate him.

  “Sir, this is not about money.”

  Mordechai nodded solemnly. It never was.

  “I—I have grown concerned about the way things are going. It is like Jesus has . . . has . . .” His voice trailed off.