Luke 13:30

Luke sets this exchange on Jesus’ journey toward Jerusalem, as he teaches in the towns along the way. Just before it he has called his hearers to repent or perish (Luke 13:1–5) and told the parable of the barren fig tree, a picture of God’s patience (Luke 13:6–9). So when someone asks, “Lord, are there few that be saved?”, the question grows out of all that talk of readiness and judgment. Luke leaves the man unnamed, and his question is one people in every age have asked.

He addresses Jesus as kýrios, “Lord”, a word for one supreme in authority that was also a respectful title for a master. He treats Jesus as someone who can speak with authority about the destiny of souls. The word for “few”, olígos, means small in number or quantity. “Saved” is sṓzō, to save, deliver or protect, and here it means rescue from sin and its penalty and a place in God’s kingdom in the age to come.

Behind the question lay the hopes of the time. Many Jews expected the coming kingdom to belong to Israel, and the prophets had spoken of a remnant, a faithful part of the nation that would be saved (Isaiah 10:20–22, Zephaniah 3:12–13). People spoke of the age to come, the Olam Haba or “world to come”, and who would share in it was a live question.

Luke writes that Jesus “said unto them”. One man asked, and the answer is given to the whole crowd, and through them to us.

The verb “strive”, agōnízomai, means to struggle. Its literal use is of competing for a prize, as an athlete does, and it is also used of contending with an opponent and of labouring hard to get something done. Jesus gives it as a command. Entering the kingdom calls for the whole heart, with earnest and persevering effort, and the people of his day who thought their birth secured them a place heard this as a hard word.

“Strait” is the old English word for narrow. The Greek stenós means narrow, from the picture of obstacles standing close about, and the “gate” is pýlē, the leaf or wing of a folding entrance. City gates were where people came in and where entry was controlled, and a fortified gate could be a tight passage. A narrow gate takes people one at a time, and the baggage of sin and worldly desire has to be left outside it. The gate stands for the way of true discipleship: repentance, faith and obedience, often against the values of the world. This whole chapter is about repentance and the kingdom (Luke 13), and the call to strive belongs with Jesus’ teaching on the cost of following him, taking up the cross daily (Luke 9:23).

Then comes the warning: “for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able.” With “I say unto you” Jesus speaks on his own authority. “Seek” is zētéō, the ordinary word for seeking. Elsewhere it can mean to worship God or, in a bad sense, to plot against someone’s life. Here it is the wish or attempt to get in, set beside the earnest striving Jesus commands. These many want the kingdom. The verses that follow show what goes wrong: they come once the door is shut, and their claim on the master rests on having been near him. The same urgency runs through the parable of the great supper in the next chapter (Luke 14:15–24), and Peter writes, “give diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall” (2 Peter 1:10).

Jesus now tells a short parable. The “master of the house”, oikodespótēs, is the head of a household, a word built from “house” and “master”. He has full authority over his home and decides who comes in. In the parable he stands for God, and the following verses show him to be Christ himself, the judge.

He “is risen up”, egeírō, which means to rise or wake up. He gets up from his place, and the time of the open door is over. He “hath shut to the door”, and apokleíō means to close fully, to shut up. The “door” is thýra, a portal or entrance, a different word from the gate of verse 24. In Jesus’ day a door shut for the night was not easily opened again, and the parable draws its finality from that picture of a household locked up for the night.

Those outside “begin to stand without, and to knock at the door”. Their cry is “Lord, Lord, open unto us”, and “Lord” is kýrios, the same word the questioner used in verse 23. The doubled title claims a relationship, but it rests on outward religion. Jesus warns in Matthew’s Gospel that those who call him “Lord, Lord” will enter only by doing the will of his Father (Matthew 7:21–23). A shut door and late knocking also come in the parable of the ten virgins (Matthew 25:10–12).

The master’s answer is “I know you not whence ye are.” The verb “know” is eídō, whose proper sense is to see, literally or figuratively, and which also means to know. The scene gives the word its depth here. These people ate near him and heard him, yet he knows nothing of them as members of his household, and no bond of life joins them to him. “Whence”, póthen, asks from what place, origin or source a person comes. The master does not recognise where they are from or whose they are, so they stand at his door as strangers with no claim to come in.

“Then shall ye begin to say” moves to the moment after the door is shut. Tóte is the ordinary word for “then, at that time”, and árchomai means “to begin”, the same verb as in “ye begin to stand without”. Légō is the common word “to say”. Their plea is “We have eaten and drunk in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets.”

“In thy presence” is enṓpion soû, literally “in the face of thee”, before him and in his sight. Jesus shared meals with many people, sinners and Pharisees alike: a Pharisee was his host when a sinful woman anointed him (Luke 7:36–50), and he ate at another Pharisee’s house (Luke 14:1). “Thou hast taught” is didáskō, to teach, and “streets” is plateîa, a wide open place or square where people gathered. Jesus taught in synagogues and in public places like these, so “in our streets” (en hēmōn plateíais) means that they were among the crowds who heard him openly. What they claim is real, and it is the kind of nearness thousands shared.

The irony is plain. Those who claim to know him best are the ones he says he does not know. Hearing is where faith begins, for “faith cometh by hearing” (Romans 10:17), and what these people lack is the response of faith that his teaching called for. Jesus calls his hearers to build their lives on his words (Matthew 7:24–27, Luke 6:46–49), and James tells us to be doers of the word and hearers as well (James 1:22). Luke’s Gospel calls throughout for fruit that fits repentance, a call John the Baptist sounded as Jesus’ ministry began (Luke 3). Some crowds followed Jesus for the bread he gave (John 6:26–27).

Their eating and drinking in his presence stands against what Jesus calls true communion with him: abiding in him as a branch abides in the vine (John 15:4), and eating his flesh and drinking his blood, which is life from him by faith (John 6:53–58). Those he knows have been born again of the Spirit (John 3:3–5), and the Spirit of Christ dwells in them (Romans 8:9–11). Hebrews calls us to follow peace with all men and holiness (Hebrews 12:14).

The master repeats his answer word for word, “I tell you, I know you not whence ye are”, and the repetition makes it final. Then he gives the sentence: “depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity.” It sends them away from his presence and his kingdom.

“Workers” is ergátēs, a toiler or labourer, and “iniquity” is adikía, injustice or wrongfulness, in character and in act. Together they describe people whose work, the steady pattern of their lives, is unrighteousness, whatever religion they wore on the outside. All of us have sinned (Romans 3:23), so the phrase marks out a way of life, the opposite of those Paul calls workers together with God (2 Corinthians 6:1). The same words “Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity” stand in Psalm 6:8, and in Matthew Jesus says to people who called him “Lord, Lord”, “I never knew you” (Matthew 7:21–23). Paul describes such people as professing to know God while denying him by their works (Titus 1:16), and Jesus teaches that a tree is known by its fruit (Matthew 7:16–20).

The knowledge that saves is the knowledge Jesus prays about: “this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent” (John 17:3). On the last day Christ will sit on his throne and judge the nations (Matthew 25:31–46), and his call to repent while there is time (Luke 13:3) is the merciful side of this warning.

“There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” “Weeping”, klauthmós, is lamentation, loud wailing. “Gnashing”, brygmós, is the grinding of the teeth, an expression of anger, pain or suffering. Jesus uses the whole phrase of judgment more than once (Matthew 8:11–12, Matthew 13:42, Matthew 22:13, Matthew 25:30), and it pictures the anguish and bitter regret of those who see too late what they have lost.

Part of their grief is what they see: “Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God”. These are the fathers of Israel’s faith, and many of Jesus’ hearers counted on their descent from them. Jesus names them inside the kingdom while some of the very people listening are outside. The patriarchs and prophets are there because they believed God. Their faith looked forward to the coming Messiah, and God counted them righteous by his grace. Being their children by birth secures nothing, and those who share their faith share their place.

“And you yourselves thrust out.” The verb ekbállō means to throw out or drive out, with ek giving the direction “out”. The word éxō, “out”, is the same word translated “without” in verse 25, where they stood without and knocked. Those who stood outside the door are now driven out of the kingdom. In Matthew’s account Jesus says this same thing, that many shall come from east and west and sit down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, while “the children of the kingdom” are cast out (Matthew 8:11–12).

“And they shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south.” The verb hḗkō means to arrive, to have come. The four points of the compass take in the whole earth, all nations and peoples. Many expected the kingdom to be for Israel alone, though the prophets had foretold that all nations would flow to the house of the LORD (Isaiah 2:2–4) and that God’s servant would be a light to the Gentiles (Isaiah 49:6).

They “shall sit down in the kingdom of God”. Anaklínō means to lean back, to recline, the posture of guests on couches at a banquet. To sit down in the kingdom is to take one’s place at God’s feast, in joy, rest, fellowship and plenty. Isaiah foresaw the LORD making a feast for all peoples (Isaiah 25:6), and Revelation calls blessed those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:9). “Kingdom”, basileía, comes from basileús, “king”. It means royalty or rule, and also the realm ruled. Here it is God’s reign, already present and coming in fullness.

John saw this gathering: a great multitude that no man could number, out of all nations, standing before the throne and the Lamb (Revelation 7:9–10), and the song of those redeemed to God by his blood out of every kindred, tongue, people and nation (Revelation 5:9–10). Christ has broken down the wall between Jew and Gentile and made one new people in himself (Ephesians 2:14–16), and he sends his church to “go ye therefore, and teach all nations” (Matthew 28:19). Set against verse 28, the picture is sharp: some who expected a seat are outside, and guests from the ends of the earth are at the table. It also assures everyone who enters by the narrow door that a place is waiting.

“And, behold, there are last which shall be first, and there are first which shall be last.” Idoú, “behold”, calls the hearer to attention, often before something surprising. “Last” is éschatos, farthest or final, the lowest in place or order. “First” is prōtos, first in time, place or order, foremost in rank or importance.

In this setting the “first” are those who counted on birthright, religious observance or standing, and the “last” are those many thought were outside: Gentiles, Samaritans, tax collectors and sinners. Jesus says the same thing in other settings (Matthew 19:30, Mark 10:31), and in the parable of the labourers in the vineyard those hired last receive the same reward as those hired first (Matthew 20:1–16). It belongs with his teaching on humility: “For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted” (Luke 14:11), and “whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted” (Matthew 23:12). God looks past outward appearance and rank, and his kingdom welcomes many whom the world rejects.

The narrow door is Jesus himself. He says, “I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved” (John 10:7–9), and “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me” (John 14:6). To strive to enter is to follow him, and he walked the narrow way first, from his temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1–11) to his earnest prayer in Gethsemane (Luke 22:44) and on to the cross. There he was offered once to bear the sins of many (Hebrews 9:28), the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29), and the righteousness of God is now given through faith in him to all who believe (Romans 3:21–26). By his blood we have a new and living way into the presence of God (Hebrews 10:19–20), and we strive by his strength (Philippians 4:13).

He is also the clearest picture of verse 30. Though he was in the form of God, he humbled himself, took the form of a servant and became obedient to death on a cross, and God highly exalted him and gave him the name above every name (Philippians 2:6–9). The one who became last is now first, the firstborn among many brethren (Romans 8:29) and the firstfruits of them that slept (1 Corinthians 15:20). Through him the humble are brought into the first places of God’s kingdom.

This passage gives us a Lord who answers a curious question with a gracious command, because he wants the one asking to be inside. The door is narrow, and it is open, and the master of the house is the same Jesus who calls people from every corner of the earth to sit down at his table. His warning about the shut door is part of his mercy, spoken while there is still time to enter.

It shows us who God is: a host who prepares a feast for all nations, who lifts the lowly, and whose knowing of his people is the bond that matters on the last day. The striving Jesus asks of us is the answer of faith to the one who has already opened the way by his cross. Whoever comes to him now finds a place at the table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, among a people gathered from east and west and north and south.