Excessive Righteousness 4: Cardiac Commitment (Quid Pro No!)

 

 “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the first and great commandment.”

(Matthew 22:34-38 NKJV)

 

 Jesus’s first and great commandment exhorts: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” The “love” language here may be contrasted with the “love” language of the second commandment: You shall love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:34-38 NKJV). The “love” language as to how one should love in the second commandment corresponds to the Golden Rule: “Whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them” (Matthew 7:12 NKJV) and “Just as you want men to do to you, you also do to them likewise” (Luke 6:31 NKJV). It is a proactive principle of reciprocity. For example, if you would like someone to give you a nice Christmas present, you should give them a nice Christmas present first. Quid pro quo expectation is involved: I wouldn’t treat you in a way that I would not like to be treated myself. Even if unrequited love occurs, the second commandment still recommends the Golden Rule as the high moral ground.

The “love” language as to how one should love God, however, is of a different variety. We should not love the Lord our God with quid pro quo expectations. According to classicists John Kirby and Eduard Norden, when the ancient Greeks prayed to their gods, quid pro quo was frequently involved: “Either, because of past benefices which I have performed for you, you owe me; or, I will do this . . . for you, if you will do this . . . for me (conditional promise).” Modern-day Christians and non-Christians alike are prone to pray to God, having similar quid pro quo expectations. “God, if you will heal my disease, I will go to church,” for example. There are, however, no quid pro quo implications in the commandment: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” When people pray with constant “requests” in mind, they miss the point of this commandment. The term “all” is repeated three times: all your heart, all your soul, all your mind.

 

All Your Heart

 

Having dealt with “all your mind” in the previous post, we turn to “all your heart.” The greatest commandment has nothing to do with a literal, biological heart (cardia in the Greek); the term “heart/cardia” used by Jesus and Moses is a metaphor. Though the English metaphor “heart” refers to emotions (perhaps, because when you are frightened, excited, angry, or attracted to the opposite sex, your literal “heart/cardia” tends to beat faster and stronger), that is not what the metaphor “heart” typically means in Hebrew or Aramaic (the languages of Jesus and the Old Testament commandments). Perhaps, the Christian worshippers who like to wave their hands in the air, put quivers in their voices, and well up with tears in their eyes while worshipping think that this commandment means that they need to display emotional love toward God. I have difficulty picturing Jesus and John the disciple whom Jesus loved waving their hands in the air at each other and welling up with tears. Jesus certainly did express emotions, at times. He wept when He arrived at the tomb of His friend Lazarus, but there is no metaphorical mention of his “heart” in that account (John 11:17-44). Instead of using the term “heart” for emotions, the Hebrews typically used the term “bowels” (the belly) as a metaphor for the emotions (perhaps, because when you are frightened, excited, angry, or attracted to the opposite sex, your stomach feels like it is tied up in knots). The bowels are the seat of emotion/compassion in Hebrew and Aramaic, as in Genesis 43:30 (see KJV).

Jesus, however, uses the term “heart” in His beatitudes: Blessed are the pure in heart (Matthew 5:8). It is difficult to imagine what pure emotion would look like, but a purely-based decision is clearer. Most likely, Jesus uses the term “heart” to signify the center of our decision-making processes. In Genesis 6:5, God saw that the “intent (yetzer)” of man’s “heart (levav)” was “evil (ra‘)” all of the time. Jews teach that the center of a human being’s decision-making processes (i.e., his “heart [levav]”) has a “good inclination (yetzer ha-tov)” and an “evil inclination (yetzer ha- ra‘).” These two inclinations at conflict in our hearts” sprang, perhaps, from when Adam and Eve ate of the Tree of the Knowledge of “Good (ha-tov)” and “Evil (ha- ra‘). A Jewish psychoanalyst named Sigmund Freud borrowed this Jewish doctrine for his psychanalytic theory. The “good inclination (yetzer ha-tov)” became his “superego” and the “evil inclination (yetzer ha- ra‘)” became his “id.” These two factors were combined in his decision-making center (i.e., his “heart [levav]”), which Freud called his “ego.” New World Encyclopedia confirms: “The opposition of the id and the superego may be a reflection of a traditional Jewish psychology of fallen human beings, that within each person there is unending conflict between the "evil inclination" (yetzer ha-ra) and the "good inclination" (yetzer ha-tov)” (Ego, superego, and id - New World Encyclopedia). Jews center these two inclinations in the “heart.” Therefore, when Exodus 4:21 reports that God hardened Pharaoh’s “heart (levav),” Pharaoh’s free-will “decision” not to let the Israelites go was “hardened”; his initial “decision” was set in concrete, so to speak. God did not make Pharaoh’s decision for him, but He assisted Pharaoh in turning his decision into a psychosis. Pharaoh could not be talked out (or plagued out) of his psychosis by Moses.

Applying all of this to Jesus’s beatitude “Blessed are the pure in ‘heart,’” Jesus is praising those whose “decisions” are pure—following only their “good inclination (yetzer ha-tov),” with no input from their “evil inclination (yetzer ha- ra‘).” Likewise, in loving the LORD our God with “all” of our “heart,” we must be certain to follow only our “good inclination (yetzer ha-tov),” with no input from our “evil inclination (yetzer ha- ra‘)” with regard to our decisions. We must be the exact opposite of those, in Genesis 6:5, whose “intent (yetzer)” of their “heart (levav)” was “evil (ra‘)” all of the time. When it comes to our love of God, the “intent (yetzer)” of our “heart (levav)” must be “good (tov)” all of the time. A comparative example of “heart” in decision-making is Jesus’s observation that “whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28 NKJV). I understand this to mean that “lust” as Jesus uses the term is that inward decision to commit adultery with a woman, if and when the opportunity arises. Jimmy Carter, in his 1972 Playboy magazine interview, stated: “I’ve looked on a lot of women with lust. I’ve committed adultery in my heart many times.” If by that statement, Carter meant that he experienced sexual temptation, he would have experienced the same emotion millions and millions of other men (and women) have experienced; but if by that statement, Carter meant that he had made an inward decision to commit adultery with a woman, if and when the opportunity arose, that is quite another matter. Likewise, if Christians and Jews experience temptations to relinquish their faith in and love toward God, as when their faith is threatened by non-Christian arguments (yet, agonizing over their problem), that is one thing; but if Christians and Jews consciously decide to readily relinquish their faith in and love toward God for personal gain, such as advancement in the academic world, if it becomes necessary, they do not love THE LORD with all of their heart. Loving God must involve total inward (cardiac) commitment to staying true to God despite all the “fiery darts of the wicked.” Paul recommends “taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench” those darts (Ephesians 6:16 NKJV).

The Other Magi—Simon and Elymas (Money 1)

 

“Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem.”

                                                                (Matt 2:1 NASV)       

“Now a man named Simon had previously been practicing magic in the city and astonishing the people of Samaria.”

(Acts 8:9 NASV)

“Elymas the magician (for so his name is translated) was opposing them”

(Acts 13:8 NASV)

           

Tomorrow (January 6th) is Three Kings Day. Have you ever noticed that Matthew is the only gospel that provides an account of the Magi at Jesus’s birth (Matt 2:1-12). The number three became attached to the group, since they brought three gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh. In light of these gifts, they were, apparently, rich guys. However, we do not actually know the exact number of the Magi; Matthew never informs us of that, but that’s not the point of this post. I’m beginning a series of posts on Luke’s teaching about Christians and money. For Luke, there are several monetary landmines Christians need to avoid, if they wish to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. While Luke’s infancy narrative does not mention the Magi at Jesus’s birth, Luke mentions another magus (singular of magi), as he writes in Acts 13:8 (NASV): “But Elymas the magician (for so his name is translated) was opposing them, seeking to turn the proconsul away from the faith.” The Greek word translated “magician” in 13:8 is the same word—magi—as in the birth narrative in Matt 2:1-12—magus/μάγος. While Luke does not use the term magus/μάγος to describe Simon (often referred to elsewhere as “Simon Magus,” in Acts 8:9-25, he uses the cognate noun mageia/μαγεία in Acts 8:11 to refer to Simon’s “magical arts.” He is also called “Simon the Sorcerer.” Elymas and Simon, the magi, both appear to be “rich guys,” as were the Magi in Matthew’s account, but they are presented (only by Luke) in negative contexts.

 

As I mention in my article in the KB Journal, “Epideictic oratory [which I argue is the genre of the gospels] … strengthens the disposition toward action by increasing adherence to the values it lauds.”  Matthew has no problem lauding the “rich guys”—the Magi.  Luke, however, does not even mention them, and, instead, lauds the “humble” (poor man’s) view of Jesus’ birth. In Luke 1:48, before Jesus is born, Mary comments on her own “low estate.” In 1:52-53 (CEB), she exalts God: “He has pulled the powerful down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed.” Luke 2:7 says that Jesus was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. Since God saved the first-born sons of the Israelites, Exodus 13 demands that the first-born males (even of livestock) be redeemed by a sacrifice.  The first-born male donkey, for example, was to be redeemed by the sacrifice of a lamb. When Jesus was redeemed (being Mary’s first-born son) in Jerusalem, Luke 2:24 reports that Joseph and Mary offered up two turtle doves or two young pigeons, as the price of his redemption—a poor man’s redemption price. Matthew includes none of these humble origins of Jesus.

 

Why is this true? As I mentioned in a previous post, Luke lauds the value of EXTREME IMPOVERISHMENT.  By comparing the Beatitudes in Luke with the Beatitudes as Matthew presents them, we see that Luke lauds poverty more than does Matthew.  Luke’s beatitude “Blessed are you who are poor” becomes Matthew’s “poor in spirit.”  Luke’s “Blessed are you who are hungry now” becomes Matthew’s “hunger after righteousness.”  Luke follows-up his Beatitude with the statements, “Woe to you who are rich . . . woe to you who are full now.”  Matthew does not. Luke is the only gospel to provide the Good Samaritan parable.  Acts (also written by Luke) tells of Christians like Barnabas who sold their possessions and brought the money to the apostles.

 

Hence, we come to a differentiation between Magi in Matthew and Luke. Dispensing with the good Magi who brought gifts to the baby Jesus and the bad magus Elymas who opposed Paul and Barnabas, and whom Paul temporarily blinded for that opposition, we turn for an understanding of Luke to the one who is called in history “Simon Magus.” Much legendary material was produced in the second century concerning Simon, which I do not trust. Looking only at the biblical account in Acts 8:9-24, we find the account, written by Luke.

To summarize the account: the apostles Peter and John came to Samaria after the deacon (from Jerusalem) Philip had evangelized and converted the first Samaritans to Christianity. Philip had baptized the new Christians, but none of them had received a charismatic gift—a miraculous gift of the Spirit, such as Philip and Peter and John had. (Philip, apparently, had no ability to confer these gifts of the Spirit to anyone. Then, the apostles Peter and John laid hands on some of the new Samaritan Christians and those who had received the laying on of hands of apostles received miraculous charismatic gifts (8:13). “Simon saw that through the laying on of the apostles’ hands” these spiritual gifts were conferred, so he offered to buy this ability to confer spiritual gifts on people from the apostles (8:18-19). Peter blasted him (8:20 NKJV): “Your money perish with you, because you thought that the gift of God could be purchased with money!” Peter told him to repent, and apparently, he did. End of story.

In addition to offering another indication of Luke’s attitude toward money, this passage is the clearest evidence that modern-day spiritual gifts are non-existent. Spiritual gifts can only be conferred by the laying on of apostles’ hands.  Since there are no apostles alive, today, there are no spiritual gifts, today. While I don’t always agree with Calvinists, I do agree with John Calvin who wrote: “It pleased the Lord that those visible and admirable gifts of the Holy Spirit, which he then poured out upon his people, should be administered and distributed by his apostles by the laying on of hands . . . since that gift has ceased to be conferred, to what end is the laying on of hands? . . . Assuredly . . . those miraculous powers and manifest operations, which were distributed by the laying on of hands, have ceased. They were only for a time” (Inst. 4.19.6). 

I turn, now, to the monetary implications of Luke’s message, with some trepidation. For a decade of my life, I earned a living as a financial planner—primarily, as a life insurance agent. I sought to persuade mostly young college graduates that they should plan for their financial future, especially for the prospects of unexpected illness, disability, or death, plus the more expected needs of retirement. I recommended products that I also purchased for myself, my wife, and my children. I still have these products in force, on my family, forty years later. I wrote a book regarding my persuasion methods and my products that has been used (with a few upgraded editions) as a college text at multiple universities. The current title of the book is Making Offers They Can’t Refuse: The Twenty-One Sales in a Sale, 3^rd ed. My trepidation comes as I begin this series on Luke’s theology of money. Jesus says, in Luke 18:25 (NKJV), “For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Matthew 19:24 and Mark 10:25 record the same saying of Jesus, but with different Greek words for “the eye of a needle.” (Interestingly, the three gospels used three different Greek words for “eye,” but that’s insignificant since Jesus spoke in Aramaic and, hence, all Greek is translation.) What is significant, however, is that being “rich” is everywhere presented as being an extreme barrier to entering the Kingdom of God.

I might be wading into a mine field by considering the monetary teachings of Luke. Perhaps, I will step on landmines that could be devastating to myself, as well as my readers, but, wade we must! For the next several posts, we will consider Luke’s monetary teachings, one-by-one, starting here with Simon Magus. Contrary to those who later coined the term “simony,” meaning “to buy a religious office,” Simon was not attempting to purchase any ecclesiastical office. He just wanted power and he believed that everything was for sale. Once he determined who held the source of miraculous power—the apostles—he was willing to offer “the big bucks” in exchange for some of that power. Kind of a quid pro quo.

I cringe when I have witnessed church boards and ministers who were unwilling to confront the sinful behavior of certain members of the church, on the grounds that they are “such good givers.” I worry that multi-million-dollar church building programs, with the attendant debt, create scenarios in which the church owes its soul to the congregational wealthy. What happens if the rich in the church get offended and pull the plug? What happens if the “wealthy woke” decide that the church should accept abortion or homosexuality or living together before marriage or adultery or transgenderism among its members? (Not accepting these behaviors does not mean we should not love the sinners, by the way.) Are the wealthy, in those instances, not exerting a Simon-like attempt at buying power?

The Magi who visited the baby Jesus may have been wealthy, but they sought no quid pro quo from the baby or Mary or Joseph. Their purpose in giving was to worship, not to purchase power or influence. Lest we be tempted to expect some quid pro quo from our giving, we should be on constant vigil to avoid stepping on the Simon Magus landmine in our financial dealings with God. Next, we consider the landmine of buying prestige.