Luke 14
The whole of this chapter is significant in no ordinary manner, I believe. The Lord visits man’s world, and it does not suit Him—and then He shows that his world does not suit man.
The two feasts in this chapter are samples of the two worlds. That in the Pharisee’s house is man’s world. Guests are there after the fashion of the world, and the host is there after the same fashion. Pride marks the one, and selfishness the other—and such a world the Son of God can only rebuke. It does not suit Him. The feast in the parable, on the other hand, is Christ’s world. It has been furnished entirely by Himself. It is just what God makes it. But this will not do for man—and all the guests that are seen at it are therefore brought in or compelled—otherwise the table would have been empty.
Thus, man’s world does not suit the Lord, the Lord’s world does not suit man. The pride and selfishness which are here will not do for Christ. And here let me say, what a blessing it is, what eternal blessing is involved in it, that our world did not suit the Lord. What would have become of us sinners, had this been possible? Could pride suit Him who, though in the form of God, took on Him the form of a servant? Could selfishness suit Him who, when He was rich, for our sakes became poor, that we through His poverty might be rich? Our very salvation is involved in the fact, thus incidentally witnessed at the feast in the Pharisee’s house, that man’s world did not suit Jesus.
And, on the other hand, His kingdom is lightly esteemed by the heart of man—as this chapter goes on to show us.
The Lord, I believe, had the heart of man in His thoughts, when He framed this parable. He meant to expose it, by showing that, but for sovereign grace, none would ever be in the kingdom. This “certain man” prepares his “supper” and then, he sends out his “servant” to tell the “hidden” ones, that “all was ready.”
This is the invitation to man, that he may come and enjoy a portion of God’s providing in a coming scene of glory. But man has no heart for the invitation. He is occupied with other delights of his own providing, “the piece of ground,” or “the yoke of oxen,” or “the wife.” These are more to man than all that God can give him.
The heart is thus exposed. But it is not slandered, if I may so speak; for the parable does not go beyond man’s history of himself. Man has been exposing himself in the very way in which this parable exposes him, all through his history, from the beginning to the end of it. In earliest days, a mess of pottage was more to man than the birthright—in latest days, at the very time, I may say, when the Lord was speaking this parable, a herd of swine was more to man than the healing virtue of the Son of God—and after that, thirty pieces of silver could purchase the heart of man from the company and the friendship of Jesus. And thus the parable does not go beyond the history. Nay, rather, the parable gives but a chastened and delicate disclosure of that which had already exposed itself in grosser forms.
But, this being so, man having no desire for God’s good things, for the promised provision of the coming kingdom, the Lord in power must provide guests, as in grace He has provided the feast; for He cannot sit at it alone. “Some must enter therein.” (Heb. 4) It would be no feast without guests—but divine grace will have it to be a feast.
Accordingly, the servant is sent forth again and again to “bring in” and to “compel.” Bidding has been found ineffective. There must be compelling, or the house would be empty. And accordingly, the compulsion is used, and then there are guests. But this is the surpassing grace of God. He has found the heart of man utterly indifferent to His goodness, preferring gratified lust to the glories and provisions of His coming kingdom and yet He waits on it. He puts forth, the power of His Spirit to draw man, as He has given His Christ to save and to bless him.
This is the exposure of man, and the revelation of God; and these things are the purpose and object of this parable of “the great supper.”
No merely bidden one will ever be found at that table. All must be compelled, brought there and drawn there, or they never would be there.
But, further, if chap. 14 shows us the need of this compelling, of which I have spoken, chap. 15 shows us the mode of it. We see this in the case of the prodigal. We read in the Psalms, “thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power.” They are made willing. The hidden energy of the Spirit is used, but it acts in the way of making willing, not of drawing. And this is illustrated in the prodigal.
The prodigal was “compelled to come in.” But how? Against his will? No. It was in spite of himself I know; but still, it was not against his will, but by making him willing.
“He came to himself.” By the hidden power of the Spirit this was done. He saw his present misery in its just character; he saw it as the fruit and witness of his past ways. This was coming to himself. But this discovery is welcome to him. However, humbling such knowledge may be, he willingly yields to it, and is convicted. And then, he is made willing also to return, in thought and remembrance, to his father and his father’s house. And he acts upon all this. He rises and goes to his father, convicted and confessing; but when his father lets him still further learn what a father he was, by falling on his neck and kissing him, he receives it all without an unbelieving word upon his lips. He sits at the table with the robe and the ring upon him, with the fatted calf before him, and the music and the merry-making of the house all around him, and in the spirit of faith he accepts it all—for as he had learned himself for his humbling, he had learned his father for his joy and blessing.
Thus is he made willing; thus is he “compelled” to come in. The energy of the Spirit thus “brings him in,” as the parable in chap. 14 speaks. The “great supper,” the supper in the father’s house, is spread, and spread for him, but he takes his place at it as a returned child, and a most welcome guest.