The Lord is seen, in chapter 14, resuming the ways of grace. Once more He shows that, spite of those who preferred the sign of the Old covenant to Messiah in the grace of the New, the sabbath day furnished Him an opportunity for illustrating the goodness of God. In chapter 13 it was the spirit of infirmity—the power of Satan; here it was a simple case of human malady. The lawyers and Pharisees were then watching Him, but Jesus openly raises the question; and as they held their peace, He takes and heals the man with the dropsy, and lets him go, answering their thought by an irresistible appeal to their own ways and conscience. Man who seeks to do good to what belongs to himself, is not entitled to dispute God’s right to act in love to the miserable objects that He deigns to count His.
Then the Lord takes notice of another thing, not man’s hypocritical selfishness, which would not have God to gratify His love to suffering wretchedness, but man’s love of being somebody in this world. The Lord brings into evidence another great principle of His own action—self-abasement in contrast with self-exaltation. If a man desires to be exalted, the only way, according to God, is to be lowly, to abase himself; it is the spirit that snits the kingdom of God. So He tells the disciples that, in making a feast, they were not to act on the principle of asking friends, or men who could return it, but as saints called to reflect the character and will of God. Therefore it should be rather those that could make no present requital, looking to the day of recompense, on God’s part, at the resurrection of the just.
On someone crying out, What a blessed thing it must be to eat bread in the kingdom of God! The Lord shows the fact to be quite the contrary. For what is it that the Lord has been doing ever since? He is inviting men to eat bread, as it were, in His kingdom. But how do they treat the invitation of grace in the gospel? “A certain man made a great supper, and bade many: and sent his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for all things are now ready. And they all with one consent began to make excuse.” Difference is observable. In Luke there is the omission of Matthew’s first message. But, besides that, the excuses are gone into individually. One person says, “I have bought a piece of ground,” which he must go and see; another man says he has bought five yoke of oxen, which he has to prove; another says he has married a wife, and on this account he cannot, come. That is, we have the various decent plausible reasons that man gives for not submitting to the righteousness of God, for delaying his acceptance of the grace of God. So the servant comes and to his lord, who thereupon, being angry, says, “Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind. And the servant said, Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room.” Thus the persistence of grace, spite of just displeasure, is a characteristic and beautiful feature of this Gospel. The lord sent his servant thereupon to the highways and hedges (or enclosures), compelling them to come in, that, as it is said, “my house may be filled.” Of this we hear nothing in Mark and Matthew. Indeed, Matthew gives us quite a different aspect from that which we have here. There the king is seen sending forth his armies, and burning up the city. How marvelous the wisdom of God, both in what He inserts, and in what He leaves out! Matthew adds also the judgment of the robeless guest at the end—the man who had intruded, trusting to his work, or to any or all ordinances, or to both, but who had not put on Christ. This was peculiarly in its place, because this Gospel attests the dealings of grace which would take the place of Judaism, both externally and internally.
After this the Lord turns to the multitude. As He had shown the hindrance on man’s part to coming, so He gravely warns those that were following Him in great numbers, and says, “If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.” The moral difficulties are most earnestly pressed upon those who were so ready to follow Him. Would it not be well and wise to sit down first and count the cost of building the tower completely? to consider whether, with the strength they had, they could cope with the vastly greater forces against them? Yet is it no question of mustering resources after a human way, but of forsaking all one’s own, and so being Christ’s disciple. There is such a thing as persons beginning well, and turning out good-for-nothing. “Salt is good;” but what if it becomes savorless? Wherewith shall it be seasoned? It is fit neither for land nor dunghill. They cast it out (or, it is cast out). “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear” (vs. 35).