“Then the Pharisees left that place and made plans to trap Jesus in saying something wrong.”
MATTHEW 22:15
In the coral reefs of the Caribbean lives a small fish known as the Kissing Fish. It’s only about two to three inches long. It’s bright blue and quick and a delight to behold. Most fascinating is its kiss. It’s not uncommon to see two of these fish with lips pressed and fins thrashing. They give the appearance of serious underwater romance.
You would think the species would be an aquarium lover’s dream. They look energetic, vivid, illuminant, and affectionate. But looks can be deceiving. For what appears to be a gentle friend in the sea is actually a pint-sized bully of the deep.
Ferociously territorial, the Kissing Fish has laid claim to its camp and wants no visitors. His square foot of coral is his and no one else’s. He found it, he staked it out, and he wants no other of his kind near it.
Challenge his boundaries and he’ll take you on, jaw to jaw. What appears to be a tryst is actually underwater martial arts. Mouth pushing. Liplocking. Literal jawboning. Power moves with the tongue.
Sounds funny, doesn’t it?
Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
We don’t have to go to the Caribbean to see that type of power struggle. Mouth-to-mouth manipulation isn’t limited to the Caribbean.
Look closely at the people in your world (or the person in your mirror). You might be surprised how fishy things get when people demand their way. Kissing Fish aren’t the first to use their mouths to make their point.
In frontier days disputes were settled with quick fists; today we use a more sophisticated tool: the tongue. Just like the Kissing Fish we disguise our fights. We call it debating, challenging the status quo. In reality, it’s nothing more than stubbornly defending our territory.
Such was the case on Tuesday during the last week in the life of Jesus. Long before the whips snapped, words were hurled. Long before the nails were hammered, accusations were made. Long before Jesus had to bear the cross, he had to bear the acid tongues of the religious leaders.
The dialogue appears innocent. No swords were drawn. No arrests were made. But don’t let the apparent innocence fool you. Like the Kissing Fish the accusers were out for blood.
There were three encounters.
CASE ONE: SHOW ME YOUR DIPLOMA , PLEASE
The procedure for being recognized as a religious teacher in Palestine was simple. Originally, rabbinical candidates had been ordained by a leading rabbi whom they respected and under whose teaching they served. This, however, led to variance in qualifications and teachings as well as widespread abuses. So the high Jewish council, the Sanhedrin, took over the responsibility for ordination.
At his ordination a man was declared to be a rabbi, elder, and judge and was given authority to teach, express wisdom, and render verdicts.
Fair procedure. Necessary safeguard. And so we aren’t surprised that the religious leaders asked Jesus, “What authority do you have to do these things? Who gave you this authority?”1Had their questions stemmed from concern for the purity of the temple and the integrity of the position, there would have been no problem. But they wanted their territory: “We are afraid of what the crowd will do.”2
Had they really cared about the future of the nation, they wouldn’t have worried about what the people thought. They would have taken the matter of the rabbi into their own hands rather than worm away from him and eventually turn him over to a foreign government. They hadn’t learned the first lesson of leadership. “A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd.”
By the way, there is something odd in this picture. Do you see it? The created are asking the Creator about his credentials. The pot is asking the Potter for his I.D. No reference is made to the miracles. No question is raised about his teaching. They want to know about his ordination. Did he come out of the right seminary? Is he a member of the right denomination? Does he have the proper credentials?
Incredible. Cross-examining God. Now I see why powerful people often wear sunglasses—the spotlight blinds them to reality. They suffer from a delusion that power means something (it doesn’t). They suffer from the misconception that titles make a difference (they don’t). They are under the impression that earthly authority will make a heavenly difference (it won’t).
Can I prove my point? Take this quiz.
Name the ten wealthiest men in the world.
Name the last ten Heisman trophy winners.
Name the last ten winners of the Miss America contest.
Name eight people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer prize.
How about the last ten Academy Award winners for best picture or the last decade’s worth of World Series winners?
How did you do? I didn’t do well either. With the exception of you trivia hounds, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday too well. Surprising how quickly we forget, isn’t it? And what I’ve mentioned above are no second-rate achievements. These are the best in their fields. But the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten. Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.
Here’s another quiz. See how you do on this one.
Think of three people you enjoy spending time with.
Name ten people who have taught you something worthwhile.
Name five friends who have helped you in a difficult time.
List a few teachers who have aided your journey through school.
Name half a dozen heroes whose stories have inspired you.
Easier? It was for me too. The lesson? The people who make a difference are not the ones with the credentials, but the ones with the concern.
CASE TWO: THE SWORD IN THE STUDDED SCABBARD
“The Pharisees . . . made plans to trap Jesus in saying something wrong. . . . ‘Teacher, we know that you are an honest man and that you teach the truth about God’s way. You are not afraid of what other people think about you, because you pay no attention to who they are. So tell us what you think. Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?’”3
Chances are that when a man slaps you on the back he wants you to cough up something. This is no exception. The Pharisees are doing some heavy backslapping in this verse. Though their question is valid, their motive is not. Of all the texts that drip with manipulation, this is the worst.
Like the Kissing Fish, the Pharisees appear gentle. But also like the Kissing Fish, something smells fishy.
God has made it clear that flattery is never to be a tool of the sincere servant. Flattery is nothing more than fancy dishonesty. It wasn’t used by Jesus, nor should it be used by his followers.
“May the Lord cut off all flattering lips,” affirmed the psalmist.4
“He who rebukes a man will in the end gain more favor than he who has a flattering tongue,” agreed Solomon.5
“Beware of the man with sweet words and wicked deeds,” learned Lucy.
The psalmist you’ve read. Solomon you’ve admired. But Lucy? She learned about flattery the hard way. Here’s her story:
It’s Washington, D.C., in the 1860s. The nation is ravaged by war. The country is divided with strife. But for young Lucy the greatest war is in her heart.
Lucy Lambert Hale was the younger daughter of John P. Hale, one of New Hampshire’s Civil War senators. She was one of the most ravishing bachelorettes in our nation’s capital. Her long list of suitors was testimony to her popularity. The list of those aspiring her heart was not only long, it was historical. More than one of her young loves grew to be national figures.
As early as the age of twelve she was receiving flowers from Will Chandler, a Harvard freshman. Lucy was fond of the young man, but, after all, she was only twelve. Will became Secretary of the Navy and eventually a United States senator.
Then there was Oliver. Only two years her senior, he thought he had found his true love. She disagreed. Though he never got Lucy’s hand, Oliver Wendell Holmes did get a seat on the Supreme Court.
But there was another man who, for a time, did occupy a place in her heart. And it is this man whose legacy in history is one of kind words and deadly deeds. His name was John.
While the war was raging in the nation, their love was raging in Washington. And while the nation was at odds, they, too, were often at odds. What confused Lucy about this most recent boyfriend was his inconsistency. He would state one thing and live another. His promises and performance didn’t match. He would woo her with his words and bewilder her with his actions.
Consider this, the first letter he ever sent her, on Valentine’s day, 1862.
My Dear Miss Hale,
Were it not for the License which a time-honored observance of this day allows, I had not written you this poor note.
You resemble in a most remarkable degree a lady, very dear to me, now dead, and your close resemblance to her surprised me the first time I saw you. This must be my apology for any apparent rudeness noticeable—To see you has indeed afforded me a melancholy pleasure, if you can conceive of such and should we never meet nor I see you again—believe me, I shall always associate you in my memory, with her, who was very beautiful, and whose face, like your own I trust, was a faithful index of gentleness and amiability.
With a thousand wishes for your future happiness I am, to you—
a Stranger
With words as sweet as molasses and determination as fierce as a bull, John made sure that he didn’t remain too long a stranger. And with time, he and Lucy became engaged. That’s when the war broke out—not in the country, but between John and Lucy.
He was insanely jealous. They quarreled incessantly. They argued as they listened to President Lincoln’s second inaugural address. They quarreled the next night when John found Lucy dancing with the president’s eldest son, Robert. They quarreled when the president appointed Lucy’s father as ambassador to Spain. And John exploded when Lucy decided to break the engagement and go with her father to Spain.
John was kind with words, but possessive and jealous with actions. Lucy learned from John that a person can have words of honey and hands of steel. For that reason she left him. Ironically, she eventually married the man who had sent her flowers at the age of twelve, Will Chandler.
But though she lived a long and happy life, she would never forget the stormy romance with the man of kind words and harsh deeds. Nor would the rest of the world forget John Wilkes Booth.6
Now, I’m sure there was more to this story than a romance with a young girl, but for our case both the similarity and the lesson are significant. The words Jesus heard that day were just as kind. Who would have imagined they came from the lips of murderers? But therein lies the lesson of flattery. Treat it as cautiously as you would a jewel-embedded scabbard, for within both are found a sword.
CASE THREE: MYOPIC MEANDERINGS
Enter: the Sadducees. “In this corner, weighing heavy on opinion and weak on balance, the aristocrats of Jerusalem, the Ivy Leaguers of Israel, the far left of the liberals—the Sadducees!”
This small band of leaders loved Greek philosophy and poo-pooed traditional Torah teaching as too rigid, too conservative. They were pro-Roman. The Pharisees were not—they were country club. The Sadducees were common—they thought there was no afterlife. The Pharisees could tell you what you were going to wear in the afterlife.
Normally, these two never would have been on the same side. But their fear of Jesus united them. The Sadducees made their money from the money-changing and dove-selling in the temple. Monday’s temple cleansing convinced them they needed to send this fellow back to the sticks with his tail between his legs.
So, the Sadducees use the third trick of the tongue: hypothetical meandering. If this and that happens with this occurring before that . . . Their ploy is to create an extreme version of an unlikely incident and trap Jesus in his response.
If you want the long version of their question, read Matthew 22:24–28. If you want the short version and my interpretation, here it is. “Teacher, Moses said if a married man dies without having children, his brother must marry the widow and have the children for him. Once there were seven brothers among us, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. . . .”
Just like the Kissing Fish, the Sadducees stubbornly protected tiny patches of territory. They, like the Kissing Fish, had limited vision. They battled over a little piece of ground. They fought over tiny territory in a great ocean.
There are those in the church who find a small territory and become obsessed with it. There are those in God’s family who find a controversy and stake their claim to it. Every church has at least one stubborn soul who has mastered a minutiae of the message and made a mission out of it.
Myopic creatures fighting battles over needless turf.
Jesus’ response is worth underlining. “You are way off.” Now, your translation doesn’t use those words and neither does mine. But it could. A fair translation of the Greek would be: “You are off base. You are missing the point. You are chasing a rabbit down a dead-end trail.”
Some time ago I came across a song by Dennis Tice that shows the absurdity of fighting over futile territory. With his permission, I share it with you. You’ll love the title; it’s called “Did Adam and Eve Have Navels?”
Did Adam and Eve have navels or a blank spot where it should be?
Do other folks lie awake at night or is it only me?
Thinkin’ about the question that plagues all mankind
Hmmmmmmmmm
Belly-button fuzz wuzza part of creation, how could I be so blind?’
I think I’ll start a church someday to preach this creed of mine
’Cause Adam and Eve had navels and I’ll prove it at the end of time.
Sure “God is love” and “Jesus saves,” but what about this truth?
I found the answer just last year in 1st John chapter 2
Seek out the truth, the truth will set you free
Wait upon the Lord in all sincerity
And then you’ll reach the highest level of Christianity
When you become a Navelist, your eyes will finally see
That Adam and Eve had navels, I’m telling you today
Yeah, I’m splittin’ hairs for Jesus and that makes it all okay
And I’m going to take you deeper than your eyes can currently see
I’m splittin’ hairs for Jesus for more spirituality
I shared this truth with all the land and navelism grew
A thousand members growing strong, (’cause I preach salvation too)
But now the church is splittin’ over some technicality,
Did their buttons go in or pop on out, how picky can they be?
7
As long as Christians split hairs, Christians will split churches.
In his last week Jesus left a clear message: misuse of the mouth is noticed by God. The religious leaders thought they could manipulate Jesus with their words. They were wrong.
God is not trapped by trickery, flattered by flattery, or fooled by hypothesis. He wasn’t then and isn’t now.
The tragedy of the Kissing Fish is that he sees so little. All his oral warfare gets him is the same view from the same patch of coral. Had I a word with him, had I a moment with the creature who is possessed with a passion to protect his own and keep out what is new . . . I would challenge him to look around.
I would say what I need someone to say to me when I get territorial about my opinions: Let go of your territory for a while. Explore some new reefs. Scout some new regions. Much is gained by closing your mouth and opening your eyes.