Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Barclay on the Lectionary: Matthew, Year A: Matthew: Year A
Barclay on the Lectionary: Matthew, Year A: Matthew: Year A
Barclay on the Lectionary: Matthew, Year A: Matthew: Year A
Ebook495 pages6 hours

Barclay on the Lectionary: Matthew, Year A: Matthew: Year A

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Based on the Sunday Lectionary, these inspiring and deeply insightful Barclay readings are ideal for worship leaders, individuals and groups. They are drawn from William Barclay’s much-loved and ever-popular comprehensive commentary on the New Testament.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 8, 2014
ISBN9780861537808
Barclay on the Lectionary: Matthew, Year A: Matthew: Year A
Author

William Barclay

William Barclay (1907-1978) is known and loved by millions worldwide as one of the greatest Christian teachers of modern times. His insights into the New Testament, combined with his vibrant writing style, have delighted and enlightened readers of all ages for over half a century. He served for most of his life as Professor of Divinity at the University of Glasgow, and wrote more than fifty books--most of which are still in print today. His most popular work, the Daily Study Bible, has been translated into over a dozen languages and has sold more than ten million copies around the world.

Read more from William Barclay

Related to Barclay on the Lectionary

Related ebooks

Christianity For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Barclay on the Lectionary

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Barclay on the Lectionary - William Barclay

    The First Sunday of Advent

    The Threat of Time and The Coming of the King

    Romans 13:11–14

    Like so many great men, Paul was haunted by the shortness of time. In ‘To My Coy Mistress’, Andrew Marvell spoke of hearing ‘time’s winged chariot hurrying near’. In ‘When I Have Fears’, Keats expressed a similar anxiety, that he might ‘cease to be before my pen has gleaned my teaming brain’. In his Songs of Travel, Robert Louis Stevenson wrote:

    The morning drum-call on my eager ear

    Thrills unforgotten yet; the morning dew

    Lies yet undried along my fields of noon.

    But now I pause at whiles in what I do

    And count the bell, and tremble lest I hear

    (My work untrimmed) the sunset gun too soon.

    But there was more in Paul’s thought than simply the shortness of time. He expected the second coming of Christ. The early Church expected it at any moment, and therefore it had the urgency to be ready. That expectancy has grown dim and faint, but one permanent fact remains: not one of us knows when God will rise and bid us to go. The time grows ever shorter, for we are every day one day nearer that time. We too, must have all things ready.

    The last verses of this passage have achieved a lasting fame, for it was through them that Augustine found conversion. He tells the story in his Confessions (C. H. Dodd’s translation). He was walking in the garden. His heart was in distress, because of his failure to live the good life. He kept exclaiming miserably. ‘How long? How Long? Tomorrow and tomorrow – why not now? Why not this hour an end to my depravity?’ Suddenly he heard a voice saying, ‘Take and read.’ It sounded like a child’s voice; and he racked his mind to try to remember any child’s game in which these words occurred, but could think of none. He hurried back to the seat where his friend Alypius was sitting, for he had left there a volume of Paul’s writings. ‘I snatched it up and read silently the first passage my eyes fell upon: Let us not walk in revelry or drunkenness, in immorality and in shamelessness, in contention and in strife. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, as a man puts on a garment, and stop living a life in which your first thought is to gratify the desires of Christless human nature. I neither wished nor needed to read further. With the end of the sentence, as though the light of assurance had poured into my heart, all the shades of doubt were scattered. I put my finger in the page and closed the book. I turned to Alypius with a calm countenance and told him.’ Out of his word, God had spoken to Augustine. It was Samuel Taylor Coleridge who said that he believed the Bible to be inspired because, as he put it, ‘It finds me.’ God’s word can always find the human heart.

    It is interesting to look at the six sins which Paul selects as being, as it were, typical of the Christless life.

    (1) There is revelry (kōmos). This is an interesting word. Originally, kōmos was the band of friends who accompanied a victor home from the games, singing his praises and celebrating his triumph as they went. Later, it came to mean a noisy band of revelers who swept their way through the city streets at night – what, in the first decade of the nineteenth century in Regency England, would have been called a rout. It describes the kind of revelry which is undignified and which is a nuisance to others.

    (2) There is drunkenness (methē). To the Greeks, drunkenness was a particularly disgraceful thing. They were a wine-drinking people. Even children drank wine. Breakfast was called akratisma, and consisted of a slice of bread dipped in wine. For all that, drunkenness was considered specially shameful, for the wine the Greeks drank was much diluted, and was drunk because the water supply was inadequate and dangerous. This was a vice which not just Christians but any respectable person would have condemned.

    (3) There was immorality (koitē). Koitē literally means a bed and has in it the meaning of the desire for the forbidden bed. The word brings to mind people who set no value in fidelity and who take pleasure when and where they will.

    (4) There is shamelessness (aselgeia). Aselgeia is one of the ugliest words in the Greek language. It describes not only immorality; it describes those who are lost in shame. Most people seek to conceal their evil deeds, but people in whose hearts there is aselgeia are long past that. They do not care how much of a public exhibition they make of themselves; they do not care what people think of them. Aselgeia is the quality of those who dare publicly to do the things which are unbecoming for anyone to do.

    (5) There is contention (eris). Eris is the spirit that is born of uncontrolled and unholy competition. It comes from the desire for place, power and prestige, and from the hatred of being bettered. It is essentially the sin which places self in the foreground and is the entire negation of Christian love.

    (6) There is envy (zēlos). Zēlos need not be a bad word. It can describe the noble attempt to emulate by those who, when confronted with greatness of character, wish to attain to it. But it can also mean that envy which grudges others their nobility and their superiority. It describes here the spirit which cannot be content with what it has and looks with jealous eye on every blessing given to someone else and denied to itself.

    Matthew 24:36–44

    These verses refer to the second coming and they tell us certain most important truths.

    (1) They tell us that the hour of that event is known to God and to God alone. It is, therefore, clear that speculation regarding the time of the second coming is nothing less than blasphemy, for anyone who so speculates is seeking to wrest from God secrets which belong to God alone. It is no one’s duty to speculate; it is our duty to prepare ourselves, and to watch.

    (2) They tell us that the time will come with shattering suddenness on those who are immersed in material things. In the old story, Noah prepared himself in the calm weather for the flood which was to come, and when it came he was ready. But the rest of humanity was lost in its eating and drinking and marrying and giving in marriage, and was caught completely unawares, and was therefore swept away. These verses are a warning never to become so immersed in time that we forget eternity, never to let our concern with worldly affairs, however necessary, completely distract us from remembering that there is a God, that the issues of life and death are in his hands, and that whenever his call comes, at morning, at midday or at evening, it must find us ready.

    (3) They tell us that the coming of Christ will be a time of separation and judgement, when he will gather to himself those who are his own.

    So this section says quite definitely that no one knows the time of the second coming, not the angels, not even Jesus himself, but only God; and that it will come upon men and women with the suddenness of a rainstorm out of the sky. Beyond these things we cannot go – for God has kept the intimate knowledge to himself and his wisdom.

    There is a practical outcome of all this. If the day and the hour of the coming of Christ are known to none save God, then life must be constant preparation for that coming.

    To live without watchfulness invites disaster. Thieves do not send a letter saying they are going to burgle a house; the principal weapon of their wicked undertakings is surprise; therefore a householder who has valuables in the house must maintain constant guard. But to get this picture right we must remember that the watching of the Christian for the coming of Christ is not that of terror-stricken fear and shivering apprehension; it is the watching of eager expectation for the coming of glory and joy.

    The Second Sunday of Advent

    The Inclusive Church and The Emergence of John the Baptizer

    Romans 15:4–13

    Paul makes an appeal that all people within the Church should be bound into one, that those who are weak in the faith and those who are strong in the faith should be one united body, that Jew and Gentile should find a common fellowship. There may be many differences, but there is only one Christ, and the bond of unity is a common loyalty to him. Christ’s work was for Jew and Gentile alike. He was born a Jew and was subject to the Jewish law. This was in order that all the great promises given to the ancestors of the Jewish race might come true and that salvation might come first to the Jews. But he came not only for the Jews, but also for the Gentiles.

    To prove that this is not his own novel and heretical idea, Paul cites four passages from the Old Testament; he quotes them from the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Old Testament, which is why they vary from the translation of the Old Testament as we know it. The passages are Psalm 18:50, Deuteronomy 32:43, Psalm 117:1 and Isaiah 11:10. In all of them, Paul finds ancient forecasts of the reception of the Gentiles into the faith. He is convinced that, just as Jesus Christ came into this world to save all people, so the Church must welcome all men and women, no matter what their differences may be. Christ was an inclusive Saviour, and therefore his Church must be an inclusive Church.

    Then Paul goes on to sound the notes of the Christian faith. The great words of the Christian faith flash out one after another.

    (1) There is hope. It is easy in the light of experience to despair of oneself. It is easy in the light of events to despair of the world. The story is told of a meeting in a certain church at a time of emergency. The meeting was opened with prayer by the chairman. He addressed God as ‘Almighty and eternal God, whose grace is sufficient for all things.’ When the prayer was finished, the business part of the meeting began; and the chairman introduced the business by saying: ‘Friends, the situation in this church is completely hopeless, and nothing can be done.’ Either his prayer was composed of empty and meaningless words, or his statement was untrue. It has long ago been said that there are no hopeless situations; there are only men and women who have grown hopeless about them.

    There is something in Christian hope that not all the shadows can quench – and that something is the conviction that God is alive. No individual is hopeless as long as there is the grace of Jesus Christ; and no situation is hopeless as long as there is the power of God.

    (2) There is joy. There is all the difference in this world between pleasure and joy. The Cynic philosophers declared that pleasure was unmitigated evil. Antisthenes made the strange statement that he would ‘rather be mad than pleased’.

    Their argument was that ‘pleasure is only the pause between two pains’. You have longing for something, that is the pain; you get it, the longing is satisfied and there is a pause in the pain; you enjoy it and the moment is gone; and the pain comes back. Indeed, that is the way pleasure works. But Christian joy is not dependent on things outside us; its source is in our consciousness of the presence of the living Lord, the certainty that nothing can separate us from the love of God in him.

    (3) There is peace. The ancient philosophers sought for what they called ataraxia, the untroubled life. They wanted all that serenity which is proof both against the shattering blows and against the petty pinpricks of this life. One would almost say that, today, serenity is a lost possession. There are two things which make it impossible.

    (a) There is inner tension. People live a distracted life, for the word distract literally means to pull apart. As long as someone is a walking civil war and a split personality, there can obviously be for that person no such thing as serenity. There is only one way out of this, and that is for self to hand control to Christ. When Christ controls, the tension is gone.

    (b) There is worry about external things. Many are haunted by the chances and the changes of life. The writer H. G. Wells tells how in New York harbour he was once on a liner. It was foggy, and suddenly out of the fog loomed another liner, and the two ships slid past each other with only yards to spare. He was suddenly face to face with what he called the general large dangerousness of life. It is hard not to worry, for human beings are characteristically creatures who look forward to uncertainty and fear. The only end to that worry is the utter conviction that, whatever happens, God’s hand will never cause his children a needless tear. Things will happen that we cannot understand; but, if we are sure enough of God’s love, we can accept with serenity even those things which wound the heart and baffle the mind.

    (4) There is power. Here is the supreme human need. It is not that we do not know the right thing; it is not that we do not recognize the fine thing; the trouble is doing it. The trouble is to cope with and to conquer things, to make what H. G. Wells called ‘the secret splendour of our intentions’ into actual facts. That we can never do alone. Only when the surge of Christ’s power fills our weakness can we have control of life as we ought. By ourselves, we can do nothing; but, with God, all things are possible.

    Matthew 3:1–12

    The emergence of John was like the sudden sounding of the voice of God. At this time, the Jews were sadly conscious that the voice of the prophets spoke no more. They said that for 400 years there had been no prophet. Throughout long centuries, the voice of prophecy had been silent. As they put it themselves, ‘There was no voice, nor any that answered.’ But in John the prophetic voice spoke again. What then were the characteristics of John and his message?

    (1) He fearlessly denounced evil wherever he might find it. If Herod the king sinned by contracting an evil and unlawful marriage, John rebuked him. If the Sadducees and Pharisees, the leaders of orthodox religion, the ‘church’ leaders of their day, were sunk in ritualistic formalism, John never hesitated to say so. If the ordinary people were living lives which were unaware of God, John would tell them so.

    Wherever John saw evil – in the state, in the religious establishment, in the crowd – he fearlessly rebuked it. He was like a light which lit up the dark places; he was like a wind which swept from God throughout the country. It was said of a famous journalist who was great, but who never quite fulfilled the work he might have done, ‘He was perhaps not easily enough disturbed.’ There is still a place in the Christian message for warning and denunciation. ‘The truth’, said Diogenes, ‘is like the light to sore eyes.’ ‘He who never offended anyone’, he said, ‘never did anyone any good.’

    It may be that there have been times when the Church was too careful not to offend. There come occasions when the time for smooth politeness has gone, and the time for blunt rebuke has come.

    (2) He urgently summoned men and women to righteousness. John’s message was not a mere negative denunciation; it was a positive erecting of the moral standards of God. He not only denounced people for what they had done; he summoned them to what they ought to do. He not only condemned them for what they were; he challenged them to be what they could be. He was like a voice calling people to higher things. He not only rebuked evil, he also set before men and women the good. It may well be that there have been times when the Church was too occupied in telling people what not to do, and too little occupied in setting before them the height of the Christian ideal.

    (3) John came from God. He came out of the desert. He came among the people only after he had undergone years of lonely preparation by God. As the Baptist minister Alexander Maclaren said, ‘John leapt, as it were, into the arena full-grown and full-armed.’ He came, not with some opinion of his own, but with a message from God. For a long time before he spoke to the world, he had kept company with God. The preacher, the teacher with the prophetic voice, must always come into the presence of others out of the presence of God.

    (4) John pointed beyond himself. The man was not only a light to shine on all that was evil, a voice to rebuke sin, he was also a signpost to God. It was not himself whom he wished people to see; he wished to prepare them for the one who was to come.

    John was preparing the way for the king. Preachers, teachers with prophetic voices, point not at themselves, but at God. Their aim is not to focus their eyes on their own cleverness, but on the majesty of God. True preachers are obliterated in their message.

    The Third Sunday of Advent

    Waiting for the Coming of the Lord and Confidence and Admiration in the Voice of Jesus

    James 5:7–10

    The early Church lived in expectation of the immediate second coming of Jesus Christ, and James encourages his people to wait with patience for the few years which remain. The farmer has to wait for the crops until the early and the late rains have come. The early and the late rains are often spoken of in Scripture, for they were all-important to the farmer of Palestine (Deuteronomy 11:14; Jeremiah 5:24; Joel 2:23). The early rain was the rain of late October and early November, without which the seed would not germinate. The late rain was the rain of April and May, without which the grain would not mature. The farmer needs to wait patiently for the working of nature; and Christians need to wait patiently until Christ comes.

    During that waiting, they must confirm their faith. They must not blame one another for the troubles of the situation in which they find themselves – for, if they do, they will be breaking the commandment which forbids Christians to judge one another (Matthew 7:1); and if they break that commandment, they will be condemned. James has no doubt of the nearness of the coming of Christ. The judge is at the door, he says, using a phrase which Jesus himself had used (Mark 13:29; Matthew 24:33).

    We may now gather up briefly the teaching of the New Testament about the second coming and the various uses it makes of the idea.

    (1) The New Testament is clear that no one knows the day or the hour when Christ will come again. So secret, in fact, is that time that Jesus himself does not know it; it is known only to God (Matthew 24:36; Mark 13:32). From this basic fact, one thing is clear. Human speculation about the time of the second coming is not only useless, it is blasphemous – for surely no one should seek to gain a knowledge which is hidden from Jesus Christ himself and exists only in the mind of God.

    (2) The one thing that the New Testament does say about the second coming is that it will be as sudden as the lightning and as unexpected as a thief in the night (Matthew 24:27, 37, 39; 1 Thessalonians 5:2; 2 Peter 3:10). We cannot wait to get ready when it comes; we must be ready for its coming. So, the New Testament urges certain duties upon Christians.

    (a) They must be constantly on the watch (1 Peter 4:7). They are like servants whose master has gone away and who, not knowing when he will return, must have everything ready for his return, whether it comes in the morning, at midday or in the evening (Matthew 24:36–51).

    (b) Long delay must not produce despair or forgetfulness (2 Peter 3:4). God does not see time as human beings do. To him, 1,000 years are just the same as a period on watch in the night; and, even if the years pass on, it does not mean that he has either changed or abandoned his design.

    (c) The time given to prepare for the coming of the King must be used. Christians must be sober (1 Peter 4:7). They must strengthen themselves in holiness (1 Thessalonians 3:13). By the grace of God, they must become blameless in body and in spirit (1 Thessalonians 5:23). They must put off the works of darkness and put on the armour of light now that the night is far gone and the day is near (Romans 13:11– 14). They must use the time given to them to make themselves such that they can greet the coming of the King with joy and without shame.

    (d) When that time comes, they must be found in fellowship. Peter uses the thought of the second coming to urge people to love and mutual hospitality (1 Peter 4:8–9). Paul commands that all things be done in love – Maran atha – the Lord is at hand (1 Corinthians 16:14, 16:22). He says that our forbearance must be known to all because the Lord is at hand (Philippians 4:5). The word translated as forbearance is epieikēs, which means the spirit that is more ready to offer forgiveness than to demand justice. The writer to the Hebrews demands mutual help, mutual Christian fellowship and mutual encouragement because the day is coming near (Hebrews 10:24–5). The New Testament is sure that in view of the coming of Christ we must have our personal relationships right with our neighbours and would urge that we should never end a day with an unhealed rift between ourselves and another person, in case Christ should come in the night.

    (5) John uses the second coming as a reason for urging people to abide in Christ (1 John 2:28). Surely the best preparation for meeting Christ is to live close to him every day.

    Much of the imagery attached to the second coming is Jewish and is part of the traditional apparatus of the last things in ancient Jewish thought. There are many things which we are not meant to take literally. But the great truth behind all the temporary pictures of the second coming is that this world is not purposeless but that it is going somewhere, that there is one divine far-off event to which the whole creation moves.

    Matthew 11:2–11

    The career of John had ended in disaster. It was not John’s habit to soften the truth for anyone; and he was incapable of seeing evil without rebuking it. He had spoken too fearlessly and too definitely for his own safety. Herod Antipas of Galilee had paid a visit to his brother in Rome. During that visit, he seduced his brother’s wife. He came home again, dismissed his own wife and married the sister-in-law whom he had lured away from her husband. Publicly and sternly, John rebuked Herod. It was never safe to rebuke a despot, and Herod took his revenge; John was thrown into the dungeons of the fortress of Machaerus in the mountains near the Dead Sea.

    For any human being, that would have been a terrible fate; but for John the Baptist, it was worse than for most. He was a child of the desert; all his life he had lived in the wide-open spaces, with the clean wind on his face and the spacious vault of the sky for his roof. And now he was confined within the four narrow walls of an underground dungeon. For someone like John, who had perhaps never lived in a house, this must have been agony. There is nothing to wonder at, and still less to criticize, in the fact that questions began to take shape in John’s mind. He had been so sure that Jesus was the one who was to come. That was one of the most common titles of the Messiah for whom the Jews waited with such eager expectation (Mark 11:9; Luke 13:35, 19:38; Hebrews 10:37; Psalm 118:26). Those who face death cannot afford to have doubts; they must be sure; and so John sent his disciples to Jesus with the question: ‘Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?’

    In Jesus’ answer we hear the accent of confidence. Jesus’ answer to John’s disciples was: ‘Go back, and don’t tell John what I am saying; tell him what I am doing. Don’t tell John what I am claiming; tell him what is happening.’ Jesus demanded that there should be applied to him the most acid of tests, that of deeds. Jesus was the only person who could ever demand without qualification to be judged not by what he said but by what he did. The challenge of Jesus is still the same. He does not so much say ‘Listen to what I have to tell you’ as ‘Look what I can do for you; see what I have done for others.’

    There are few to whom Jesus paid so tremendous a tribute as he did to John the Baptizer. He begins by asking the people what they went into the desert to see when they streamed out to John.

    Did they go out to see a prophet? Prophets are the forthtellers of the truth of God. Prophets are those who are in God’s confidence. ‘Surely the Lord God does nothing, without revealing his secret to his servants the prophets’ (Amos 3:7). Prophets are two things – they are people with a message from God, and they are people with the courage to deliver that message. Prophets are people with God’s wisdom in their minds, God’s truth on their lips and God’s courage in their hearts. And most certainly John had all those characteristics.

    But John was something more than a prophet. The Jews had, and still have, one settled belief. They believed that before the Messiah came, Elijah would return to herald his coming. To this day, when the Jews celebrate the Passover Feast, a vacant chair is left for Elijah. ‘Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes’ (Malachi 4:5). Jesus declared that John was nothing less than the divine herald whose duty and privilege it was to announce the coming of the Messiah. John was nothing less than the herald of God, and no one could have a greater task than that.

    Such was the tremendous tribute of Jesus to John, spoken with the accent of admiration. There had never been a greater figure in all history; and then comes the startling sentence: ‘But the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.’

    Here, there is one quite general truth. With Jesus, there came into the world something absolutely new. The prophets were great; their message was precious; but with Jesus there emerged something still greater, and a message still more wonderful.

    So John had the destiny which sometimes falls to an individual; he had the task of pointing men and women to a greatness into which he himself did not enter. It is given to some people to be the signposts of God. They point to a new ideal and a new greatness which others will enter into, but into which they will not come. It is very seldom that any great reformer is the first person to toil for the reform with which his or her name is connected. Many who went before glimpsed the glory, often laboured for it, and sometimes died for it. Someone tells how from the windows of his house every evening he used to watch the lamp-lighter go along the streets lighting the lamps – and the lamp-lighter was himself a blind man. He was bringing to others the light which he himself would never see. We should never be discouraged in the church or in any other walk of life, if the dreams we have dreamed and for which we have toiled are never worked out before the end of the day. God needed John; God needs his signposts who can point others on the way, although they themselves cannot ever reach the goal.

    The Fourth Sunday of Advent

    A Call, a Gospel and a Task and Born of the Holy Spirit

    Romans 1:1–7

    When Paul wrote his letter to the Romans, he was writing to a church which he did not know personally and to which he had never been. He

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1