As attractive as that view is, it has its problems. Certainly we can expect that as Jesus encountered increasing opposition the theme of “judgment” came more to the fore. But it must have been there from the beginning, because it is an integral part of the theme of the reign of God. We see this clearly in the complex of tradition relating to the mission of the disciples. Within the second mission discourse in Luke, based on the Sayings Source, we read:
Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.” But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, “Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.” I tell you, on that day it will be more tolerable for Sodom than for that town. (Luke 10:8-12)
This text makes it clear that salvation is being proclaimed, and not only proclaimed but becoming reality: the sick are healed, and in just that way the coming of the reign of God appears. But if Jesus’ messengers are not received, the salvation they wanted to bring is reversed into condemnation: the reign of God becomes judgment. It turns into a self-evoked distress. The prophetic sign-actions of Jesus’ messengers reveal the fact as they publicly shake the dust of the city from their feet. In doing so they mean to say, “We are breaking off all connection with you. We are even purifying ourselves of the dust of your town so that in the coming day of judgment it will not cling to us and incriminate us.” The sign-action presupposes that Jesus’ messengers will appear at the coming final judgment to witness against the city in question (cf. Mark 6:11).
So the proclamation of the reign of God and the (possible) announcement of judgment are internally connected, and therefore they belong together from the beginning. The reason for this is that the reign of God that Jesus proclaims and has his disciples proclaim sets every hearer face-to-face with an ultimate decision: for or against God, for or against Jesus, in whom and through whom God himself is now definitively acting. This radical decision does not happen only at the end of Jesus’ public activity. It is happening from the beginning onward. And for that very reason the proclamation of the reign of God brings about a krisis from the outset, that is, division, separation, judgment. This appears in a Jesus saying that applies to his whole activity: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Matt 10:34).
I will address this saying at length later on (see chap. 19). At this point let me say only that the “sword” here has nothing at all to do with a call for violence. It is a sign of the division Jesus brings to the world. Those who hear his words and see his mighty deeds are brought, willy-nilly, into a situation in which they have to decide. Their decision will become for them either salvation or judgment; it leads to the reign of God or to a state of opposition to God that is pure destruction. As John the Baptizer had said before, so Jesus says now: Israel is in a final crisis, and therefore the whole nation and every individual within it is like someone being led before a judge:
Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny [
quadrans:
the smallest copper coin]. (Matt 5:25-26)
The metaphor presumes the institution of imprisonment for debt: someone who owes money will be held in prison (sometimes with his or her whole family) until the whole debt is paid. There is thus a distant similarity to today’s practice of imprisoning people to obtain their cooperation. We know from ancient sources that, once someone fell into the machinery of this system of justice, the procedure was rigorously carried out. The metaphoric saying advises that one should avoid getting involved in it, but instead come to an agreement with the opponent beforehand, if necessary at the last minute, on the way to the judge.
Matthew interpreted the metaphor in terms of reconciliation with the brother or sister in faith, which is a possible and meaningful actualization. But Jesus himself intended something far more fundamental. He wanted to say that now every individual in Israel is like someone on the way to appear before a judge. Each is in a situation that will decide his or her whole life. Therefore, it is important to act decisively and wisely in this eschatological hour—and to do so immediately. Once one stands before the judge, it is too late.
Marius Reiser considers it possible that in this image Jesus—indirectly and ironically—saw himself as the accuser.5 That would certainly fit with his skillful use of images and parables and with the concealed presence he repeatedly adopts in his parables. He would have taken up the Old Testament motif of the legal case God has against his people, and he himself would then be standing in the place of God—in a legal case against Israel. There is still time to accept his words and turn around, but the time is short. Soon it will be too late.
God’s Banquet
So from the beginning there is a close connection in Jesus’ proclamation between the reign of God and judgment. But there must have been a time when the theme of judgment emerged more sharply and urgently for him. This was the period when resistance formed against him and it became evident that even his mighty deeds effected very little repentance among the people. The invitation to Israel had long since been issued—would it in the end be refused? Jesus interprets this situation in a parable that still leaves everything open but expresses an emphatic warning and is formulated as pointedly as possible:
Someone gave a great dinner and invited many. At the time for the dinner he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, “Come; for everything is ready now.” But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, “I have bought a piece of land, and I must go out and see it; please accept my regrets.” Another said, “I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to try them out; please accept my regrets.” Another said, “I have just been married, and therefore I cannot come.” So the slave returned and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and said to his slave, “Go out at once into the streets and lanes of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.” And the slave said, “Sir, what you ordered has been done, and there is still room.” Then the master said to the slave, “Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled. For I tell you, none of those who were invited will taste my dinner.” (Luke 14:16-24)
The parable relates a crazy, scarcely imaginable tale: all those invited to a banquet send regrets, all of them without exception. That is grotesque, even eerie. But the host knows what to do: he brings in other guests. As off-putting as is the refusal of all those invited, the gathering of the substitute guests is just as bizarre: they are hauled in from every corner and cranny. Indeed, they have to be begged to come in, because obviously they are embarrassed at being totally unprepared.
Most interpreters of the parable consider the double gathering of substitute guests to be secondary. Here Luke is said to have been thinking of various phases of the later mission.6 The latter may well be true of Luke, but Jesus could have intended the doubling to emphasize the unusual character of the situation. The hall must really be full. If those invited do not want to come, then God invites others, and he brings them together from every direction.