Luke 12:56

Luke 12 is one long stretch of teaching. Jesus has warned against hypocrisy (Luke 12:1–3), told his hearers to fear God more than man (Luke 12:4–7), spoken of confessing him before others (Luke 12:8–12), told the parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:13–21) and taught his disciples to seek God’s kingdom without worry (Luke 12:22–34). Just before this passage he speaks of servants who are ready when their master returns (Luke 12:35–53). Now “he said also to the people”. The word for the people, óchlos, means a throng or crowd, and with it Jesus widens his address from his disciples to everyone standing there.

He begins with the weather. The Mediterranean Sea lies to the west of Israel, and weather moved in from the sea toward the land, so a cloud (nephélē) rising out of the west meant rain. The word for west, dysmḗ, means the sunset, and by extension the western region where the sun goes down. The word for shower, ómbros, is a thunderstorm or heavy downpour. In a farming country that lived by its seasonal rains, everyone knew this sign. The verb “see” is eídō, the ordinary word for seeing, and “straightway” is euthéōs, at once. The moment the cloud appears they say what it means. “And so it is,” Jesus adds, granting that they are right.

The second sign comes from the other side of the land. The south wind, nótos, which Strong’s describes as the south or south-west wind, blew in from the deserts to the south and southeast, including the Arabian desert, and it brought dry, burning heat, often with dust. The word for heat, kaúsōn, means a glare or burning heat. “And it cometh to pass” uses gínomai, to become or come into being. The heat comes about, just as they said it would. Rain from the west and heat from the south were things these people understood well, and the skill mattered for their farming, their travel and their daily life.

Jesus starts with what nobody in the crowd would dispute. By affirming their skill he makes it the measure for the question he is about to ask.

“Ye hypocrites” is the turn. The word hypokritḗs first meant an actor playing a part on the stage, and figuratively a dissembler. Jesus charges them with playing a role, claiming to know God and his ways while missing what God was doing in front of them.

“Ye can discern the face of the sky and of the earth.” The verb is dokimázō, to test or examine, and by implication to approve what passes the test. The face, prósōpon, is the front or appearance of a thing, the look of the sky that a farmer studies before he sows. The same verb stands behind “discern this time”, so Jesus is asking about a faculty they already use. The fault he names is an unwillingness to test what God was doing, in people who had the skill to do it. The argument runs from the lesser to the greater: if they can read the sky, how much more should they read the hour God has brought upon them.

“But how is it” begins with dé, a small connecting word that here sets the two things side by side as a contrast. The word for time is kairós, an occasion, a set or proper time. “This time” is the time of Jesus’ ministry, when the Messiah stood among them, the kingdom of God was drawing near, and his teaching and miracles showed who he was. Matthew records the same rebuke, spoken to the Pharisees and Sadducees when they came asking for a sign (Matthew 16:1–4): “And in the morning, It will be foul weather to day: for the sky is red and lowring. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?”

Many in Israel were waiting for a Messiah who would come as a conquering king and overthrow the rule of Rome. Those hopes kept them from seeing the humble, suffering Servant of Isaiah 53, and the signs they asked for were displays of power and political rescue. Jesus says elsewhere where this unwillingness comes from: “light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19–21).

“Yea, and why even of yourselves judge ye not what is right?” The opening “Yea” is again dé, joining this question to the one before. “Why” translates tís, the word for “what” in a question, used here to ask for a reason. “Of yourselves” is apó heautoû: by their own judgment, with no one needing to tell them. The verb krínō means to distinguish and so to decide, whether in the mind or in a court, and here it is the sound decision between right and wrong. “Right” is díkaios, what is equitable and just.

God has given people a sense of right and wrong, the conscience, and he has made himself known in what he made, for “the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen” (Romans 1:20). Jesus expects his hearers to use what they already have. With the weather they reason well from what they see. With the claims of God they hold back. The question also opens the way to what follows. Discerning the time has to become action, and the picture of the man on the road to court shows what judging rightly would look like.

Jesus is himself the light of the world (John 8:12), and in him the right that the world of itself fails to see is made plain. Through his atoning death sinners are declared righteous by faith (Romans 3:21–26), and anyone in Christ is a new creature (2 Corinthians 5:17), given the Spirit to discern and do what is right.

Jesus now speaks of a lawsuit, the kind of quarrel over a debt or property that could quickly grow serious. The adversary, antídikos, is the opponent in a lawsuit, the one bringing the charge. The magistrate, árchōn, is a ruler or local authority. If the matter went on, it came before the judge, kritḗs, who gave the verdict. The officer, práktōr, is named in Strong’s as an official collector, the one who carried out the sentence, collecting the debt and acting as bailiff or jailer. The prison, phylakḗ, is literally a guarding, and so a place where someone is kept under guard. Imprisonment for debt was often a way to force payment, and the prisoner was released when the debt was paid in full.

“As thou art in the way” means while the two are still on the road (hodós) together, before they reach the court. “Give diligence” is two words in Greek, dídōmi and ergasía, literally “give work”, to make a real and earnest effort. Strong’s gives ergasía the senses of occupation, pains and diligence. The aim is “that thou mayest be delivered from him”, released from his claim. “Hale” is katasýrō, to drag down, which is to arrest someone and haul him before the court. Then comes a chain of hand-offs, each harder to undo than the last: the adversary drags him to the judge, the judge hands him to the officer, and the officer casts (bállō, to throw) him into prison.

At one level this is plain wisdom for quarrels between people. Proverbs warns against going hastily to court (Proverbs 25:8), and Jesus gives the same counsel to agree with an adversary quickly in Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 5:25–26). Forgiveness, apology and restitution are best made early.

In this setting, though, coming straight after his rebuke for missing the time, the picture points further. The way is this present life, the time given to settle our account with God. The judge is God, before whom every person will stand, for it is appointed to men once to die and after that the judgment (Hebrews 9:27). The officer stands for the sure carrying out of God’s verdict, and no particular person is meant. The prison is the end that waits for unrepented sin, separation from God. So the call to give diligence on the way is a call to be reconciled to God while there is time. God has reconciled us to himself through Christ, and his ambassadors plead with us to be reconciled to him (2 Corinthians 5:18–20). Jesus invites all who labour and are heavy laden to come to him (Matthew 11:28), and he delivers us from the wrath to come (1 Thessalonians 1:10).

“I tell thee” gives the warning Jesus’ own authority. “Thou shalt not depart” uses ou mḗ, a double negative that strengthens the denial, so the sense is “thou shalt by no means come out”. The verb is exérchomai, to go or come out, to depart. “Thence” points back to the prison.

Release waits “till thou hast paid the very last mite.” “Paid” is apodídōmi, to give back, to render what is owed. “Very last” is éschatos, last or final, and the mite is the leptón, a small coin, the smallest coin of the Jews, the same coin the poor widow gave two of in the temple (Luke 21:2). By naming the smallest coin, Jesus makes the whole debt due, down to its last fraction. The parable of the unforgiving servant tells of another debtor handed over until his debt was settled (Matthew 18:23–35).

The verse shows the thoroughness of God’s justice. Our debt is our sin and every duty to God and neighbour left undone, and all have sinned and come short of the glory of God (Romans 3:21–26). The rich fool earlier in the chapter found that his time had run out before he was ready (Luke 12:13–21), and this verse carries the same warning against delay.

These verses show a God who makes his work as plain as a cloud over the sea. He came near in his Son, with signs any honest heart could read, and he holds us to account for what we do with what we have seen. He has also given each of us a road to walk before the court is reached, and on that road the debt can still be settled.

Jesus’ question, “why even of yourselves judge ye not what is right?”, is asked in love by the one who also pays the last mite for those who come to him. The time Jesus spoke of has come in him, and his mercy meets us on the way.