The extra mile...

I have sunk to a new low:  I went and got gas in my pajamas and Breath Right strip.  I did, however, stop to put my hair up in a scrunchie.

You see, I got an alert that gas had jumped from $1.97 to $2.29 and one station near me had not yet made the move.  I didn't  need a lot, but I wanted some sub-$2.00 gas.  Plus, I really have been nervous about my car.

It started up beautifully.
The gas price had not yet jumped.
I made it home sliding through only two stop-signs.

[Fort Wayne is not big on clearing snow from this neighborhood, even though it fell on Monday.  The alleys are the worst, but when Firewood Man comes to clear my sidewalks, he plows behind my garage and to the short end of the alley for me.  He also plows in front of my house, space which one or more of my neighbors promptly take.  I happen to think that is rude.]

Anyway, I wanted some of the cheap gas, in case it does not return.  And I wanted to be sure that my car was going to start when I go to my GP appointment on the morrow.  I rewarded myself with laying and lighting a fire and pouring a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.  Gone are the days when I had the energy to make desserts.  SIGH.

Yesterday, I Swiffered and vacuumed the first floor. I also dusted, cleaned with Murphy's Oil Soap, and applied orange oil to all the wood on the first floor, including the window sills, save for the mullions in the French Doors.  And I cleaned the sink, mirror, and toilet in the half bath off the parlor.

Today, I've napped.  I've napped and done a rather poor job of forgetting that it was/is Becky's birthday.  She tried to hint strongly so that I could "remember" myself, but I was too dense to understand her.  Finally, she told me what she was hinting.  Really, she was trying to remind me that I like to sing the birthday song to folk on their birthdays.

Happy Birthday, Rebecca Anne Bettina Matilda Boyles Kulp!

Since I will be out for the GP appointment tomorrow (and most likely blood work) and to fetch some prescriptions and (perhaps) to get some groceries, I will not be doing any catch-up house cleaning.  Last night, I carried the vacuum to the second floor, but that is all I did.  To make up for my utter lack of house cleaning over the past few months, being all germified (really going back to that wretched cold I caught at the beginning of November), I need to clean the wood, clean the mirrors, and vacuum upstairs, clean all the windows in the house, mop the tile floors, and clean the main staircase.  I am happy to note that all the silver is still looking bright and shiny.  [That Hagerty Silversmith Spray Polish is a miraculous product.]  So, basically, I will be cleaning and napping for the next week or so.  Hopefully.

Saturday, Firewood Man plans to bring up another load of wood.  He's twitted me about not going through it as fast as I have, but I am trying to be a bit more judicious about my fires.  Well, really, I have been too tired to bring the wood inside, but I like to tell myself it is because I am being all economical.

I read another chapter of Luke and Michael Card's commentary, but I have been thinking about another bit of his commentary on Matthew (Matthew: The Gospel of Identity) that I find myself returning to quite a bit.

I think I noted before that the trial and lashing of Jesus was a Roman trial, not a Jewish one.  So, the tale of 39 lashes is actually not accurate.  In the Matthew commentary, Michael Card specifically talks about the Roman law of impressment, which allowed a soldier to ask anyone to carry his possessions (usually a heavy pack) for one Roman mile.

Now, in Roman crucifixions, which Jesus' was, the condemned was often made to carry the cross beam, as further humiliation and to further punish the "criminal."  Notice that I wrote "cross beam," not cross.  Usually, the cross beam was what was taken to the places of crucifixion, to be nailed to the permanent upright posts already there.

I wish I could know if the Greek actually means the entire cross, which would have been about 300 lbs, or the cross beam, which is a more manageable approximately 100 pounds.  Michael Card does not actually address that word, the way he teaches about so very many words, such as the type of baskets in each of the feedings of the large crowds.

What has been rumbling around my head is the fact that the Roman soldier impressed Simon.  I mean, the cross beam (or cross) was not actually the Roman soldier's burden, but rather the criminal's, in this case, Jesus'.  In my weird mind, that little bit information won't go away, has caused me to wonder if the soldier felt any sort of ... burden ... for what was taking place.

I mean, it is clear that the Roman leadership, Pontius Pilate, did not believe Jesus was guilty.  He did make an attempt to dissuade His accusers and then later to essentially commute the sentence of death.  Was the soldier who ordered the impressment of the cross beam (or cross) there at the trial?  Did he or any others agree with Pontius Pilate?  Could thinking, too, that Jesus was not truly guilty of His crime be why the soldier used a law about his own burdens to put the burden of Christ on another to be carried?

Nothing is written about this.  Nothing is really known.  But it is, to me, a bit strange that the soldier used that particular law since his possessions were not what was being carried.

Of course, in chewing on this for a bit, I Googled about Roman impressment and found all sorts of interesting information.  Now, it being the Internet, the academic in me takes it with a grain of salt.  However, did you know that "going the extra mile" comes from that Roman law?  And from the sermon on the Mount!

In Matthew 5:41, Jesus tells His listeners that if anyone forces them to go one mile with them (the Roman impressment), then go two miles.  Going the extra mile comes from not merely doing what the law required, but to do more.

In this motivational article about leadership, the author talks about becoming Second Mile Leaders, discussing the Roman law of impressment.  In it, he writes that because of the law of impressment, individuals started marking the miles from their homes, so that they could know exactly how far they were required to go, to know exactly when they would be able to set the burden down.

For me, going the extra mile meant putting in a greater effort.  I did not really understand that it means to do more than you are required to do.  The two might seem the same, but they are not.  And, I find it interesting that going the extra mile is tied to something that was done out of being forced, rather than being voluntary.  To put it another way, to go above the call of duty is not actually the same thing as to go the extra mile.  But I have heard those used interchangeably.

Was Simon so used to impressment that he did not give a thought to why he was carrying wood instead of the soldiers pack? Or did he wonder?

Simon was from Cyrene, Libya, which was a Greek colony that had a Jewish community amongst its inhabitants.  He could have been Jewish or Gentile.  No one knows for certain.  I think that is interesting, too.  I mean, in the commentaries, I am learning so much about different people in the Gospels, but little is really known about the man who carried the cross.  The testimony of the crucifixion is about Jesus, not Simon.  So, I think it is fitting to know not if he was Jewish or Gentile, if he was sympathetic to Jesus' plight or one of the crowd jeering Him.  After all, the crucifixion is about Jesus ... and ... Jesus died for all.

I know that is not the point of the motivational article, but I wonder just how many people have figuratively marked the "mile" from their homes to know just how far they must carry a burden if ever forced to do so.

Strange thoughts, I know.

Anyway, some bits from Luke chapter 5:

• I didn't realize that we see Jesus heal Peter's mother-in-law before he is called to discipleship.
• When Peter meets Jesus, his response is interesting.  First, he states that they have not caught anything all night, but "at Your word" he will do so.  Peter is obeying the Word of God.  But, when he is amazed by the sheer amount of fish that is caught, his response is to fall to his knees and tell Jesus to go away, because he is a sinful man.  Peter doesn't really want Jesus to leave him, but, wow, what a statement to make as your first response!
• Luke uses nautical language, specific language, that points first to the voyages he took with Paul, but also give hint that, perhaps, he worked as a ship's doctor.  One example, "put out" the nets.
• One of Luke's "onlys" is that he does not say they are at the sea of Galilee, but specifically at Lake Gennesaret.
• Once again, the response of Jesus revealing Himself is fear; He has to tell these fishermen, those who will become His core team members, not to be afraid.  I have not really thought about that.  I mean, here you are an average Joe blow fisherman.  You're tired and discouraged after a night of fruitless work.  Then, this man comes along and tells you to go out again and do the same thing you've done all night.  You do and you end up with so much fish that even with the help of other boats, all the boats begin to sink with the weight of the catch.  Just like every other first encounter with God, the disciples response is fear.  And Jesus must give the typical angelic greeting:  "Do not be afraid."  How much greater, then, was it for these men, these first disciples, to leave everything behind and follow Jesus, when the one they are following frightened them.
• Regarding the paralytic, Jesus points to the faith of his friends, not him.  I had not really noticed that before.  How powerful the faith of family and friends can be.  Strange, though, that there was no outcry for the destruction of the roof.  Just at the pronouncement of the forgiveness of sins.
• Regarding the parable of the wineskins, Luke includes a final statement that is puzzling without background knowledge:  "And no one, after drinking old win, wants new, because he says, "The old is better" (verse 39).  Jesus is quoting an ancient proverb and thus is more of an ironic ending than a continuation of the parallel parables of patches of cloth and wineskins.  He is noting that people will hide behind the proverb, clinging to the belief that the old will always be better, and, thus, reject the new orthodoxy that His ministry brings.
• I like, having learned the pattern in Michael Card's commentary, seeing and noting in the Scripture itself that the response to the great things Jesus does is to glorify God, glorify and praise His father.  That pattern is not one that has ever been at the forefront of my mind in reading the Gospels.  Yet it, as well as the work of the Spirit, teaches the Trinity, without specifically speaking of the Trinity.  

That last note really is the blessing of being in my third Gospel, my third commentary. I am beginning to rehearse the things I have learned by reading the Scriptures more closely, by savoring every word in each sentence.  I really hope that I don't forget that....

As for Levi (Matthew) himself, I wanted to quote the following, instead of summarize it:

Of the two types of tax collectors, Levi was the most hated.  he was known as a "tax farmer."  His position allowed him to be more dishonest and more arbitrary than the income or poll-tax gatherers.  In the Talmud he would have been included with robbers and murderers.  He might have been in Capernaum collecting the fish tax, which would have led him into daily conflict with someone like Simon Peter.  Both Luke and Mark tell us that, in response to Jesus' offer [to follow Him], Levi gives a party at his own house.  When Levi tells the story in chapter 9 of his Gospel, he leaves out the detail that the party was in his house.

When the ever-present crowd of Pharisees objects, Jesus responds with a saying from one of their own books, a commentary on Exodus (15:26) called the Mekilta.  The healthy do not need a doctor, but the sick do.  I find it fascinating that Jesus does not reject their distinction between the "righteous" and the "sinner."  It is only that, when given the choice, Jesus chooses the sinners!

There is so much to ponder in just those two paragraphs.  You learn more about Matthew than in his own Gospel (and its commentary).  And it is rather astounding to think that not only did the first disciples welcome this despot in their midst, but they immediately partied with him!

I know there was conflict amongst the disciples.  I mean, you have the whole "who will be first" argument.  But, here, reading this, it struck me that the struggle of learning to live with strangers as you are learning how to become ministers of the Gospel—how to bring the Good News to others—is absent from the testimonies (thus far ... since I haven't finished them all).  You have their struggles to believe and their doubt and their despair.  You even have their failures.  But you don't have the ensuing conflict that surely would come from having to eat, sleep, bathe, and live alongside someone so heinous as Levi.  I find that curious and yet reassuring. I suppose because that first paragraph above shows me how very messy the first Body of Christ was.

I wonder what Levi thought, sitting at his own table filled with the very folk who hated who he was and what he did, feasting and rejoicing and starting a new life together.

In the second paragraph is an example of—in my opinion—both the richness and the value of Michael Card's commentaries.  He gives the history.  He gives the politics.  He gives the meaning of words.  And, as he did here, he points out the very many times that Jesus is quoting or referring to a Jewish/rabbinic text that the lay reader would not recognize as being a quote or reference.

Jesus is the Word of God.  I find it fascinating that not only does He use the Word of God (quoting the Scriptures) as He teaches and responds to others, but also that he uses words and syntax structures and patterns of speech that either underscore what He is teaching or, effectively, increase its scandalousness.  If He were teaching today, He'd most definitely be handed a plethora of honorary doctorates in literacy studies!

This was made most clear in the commentary on Matthew, given that Matthew's Gospel is the most Jewish testimony.  In it there is a lot of information about ancient and contemporary texts the listeners would recognize, as well as teachers and their lessons.  One of the latter is Hillel. If I am remembering correctly, it was mostly like from Hillel's teachings that Jesus modeled the pattern: If ______, then how much more ________?

I have written that my friend Mary is quite skilled in Myrtle speak, when it comes to the sharing and the giving of the Gospel.  What the commentaries have shown me is that both Jesus and the authors of the Gospels were fully cognizant of their audiences and sought to use words that would reach them most effectively.  They purposely used words and phrases and syntax and patterns of speech that would connect the audience to the Word being spoken.  As with Mark, they also avoided that would would hinder the hearing of the Gospel.

Thus, I conclude, my yearning for and desiring Gospel that is delivered in Myrtle speak is not such a strange thing ... it not actually wrong at all.