ARE YOU A CHRISTIAN? How do you know? What does the description “Christian” mean to you, especially when it’s applied to a person?

On the one hand, it should mean someone who believes in Jesus Christ and follows his way. That second part, the kind of consistent and faithful obedience appropriate to a disciple, is not optional.

On the other hand, the word has come to mean anything or anyone associated with Jesus, regardless of how loose the association might be. On a survey, for example, a person can check the box labeled “Christian,” then promptly turn around and behave in ways that dishonor the name of Christ. Sadly, this is even true of some leaders of churches and Christian organizations, leaving skeptics to wonder if the word “Christian” means anything at all.

Now: translate all of that to the first century, to a time when there were no Christians, only Christ. Then, the question would have been what it meant to be a Jew. It wasn’t enough to be a blood descendant of Abraham. Nor was it enough (for males at least) to be circumcised. As the apostle Paul would come to insist:

A person is not a Jew who is one only outwardly, nor is circumcision merely outward and physical. No, a person is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the written code.  (Rom 2:28-29, NIV)

Paul wrote this because of the persistent bent toward legalism among Jewish leaders—their understandable though frequently misguided attempt to define what it meant to be a God-fearing Jew by adherence to the Law of Moses.

To be fair, we modern-day Christians share the same human tendencies. We want to know who’s Christian and who’s not, who’s “us” and who’s “them.” And toward that end, we create implicit or explicit rules defining in-groups and out-groups. A “real” Christian, we think, does these things but not these other things. Some of these rules can be traced directly to Scripture; others, in truth, not so much. At what point, then, do such rules take on a life of their own? Is it possible for us to hold onto these rules so tightly that it becomes difficult or even impossible to see what God is doing right in front of our noses?

I ask these questions to help create a little context for what happens next in the gospel of Luke. For the first time, Luke brings the scribes and Pharisees on stage, and their ongoing conflict with Jesus will be an important part of the story going forward. The scribes were, as the New International Version translates it, the “teachers of the law.” The Pharisees were a small sect of Judaism who insisted on ceremonial purity and strict obedience to the Law of Moses. Not surprisingly, they held Gentiles in disdain. But they also tended to look down on fellow Jews who were less enlightened and less observant in matters of the law.

How, then, would the Pharisees and teachers of the law respond to Jesus?

If we know the larger story of Luke and the other gospels, we might smell trouble brewing even before the Pharisees come on the scene. In chapter 4 of Luke, you’ll recall, Jesus not only does many healing miracles—he performs an exorcism on the Sabbath. One imagines there may have been a Pharisee or two in the Capernaum synagogue when Jesus did this, and perhaps they were just as amazed as everyone else. But what would happen when the amazement wore off? Already at the beginning of chapter 6, as we’ll see soon, performing miracles on the Sabbath becomes a major bone of contention between Jesus and his opponents.

Or take the healing of the leper. Jesus should not have touched the man, and he didn’t need to; all that was needed was a spoken command for the leprosy to be gone. But both this incident and the one in the Capernaum synagogue demonstrated that Jesus’ ministry was not bound by the Law of Moses. It was only a matter of time before this would become a source of trouble.

With this in mind, listen to how Luke introduces the next incident:

One day Jesus was teaching, and Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there. They had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with Jesus to heal the sick. (Luke 5:17)

Again, Luke doesn’t tell us exactly when or where the next event happened, but Mark does. It was only a few days after Jesus had healed the leper, and Jesus was back in Capernaum, teaching from inside someone’s house. Mark focuses on the size of the crowd: “They gathered in such large numbers that there was no room left, not even outside the door” (Mark 2:2).

Luke, however, emphasizes the presence of the scribes and Pharisees. His description of them as coming “from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem” signals that Jesus’ growing reputation had generated some interest among the Jewish leaders. But what kind of interest was it? Did they come with open minds and hearts? Or did they come as an official or unofficial and self-appointed delegation to see whether what Jesus was doing would meet their approval?

Again, I’m reminded here of John the Baptist being quizzed by a delegation sent from Jerusalem (John 1:19-28). Luke may be suggesting something similar. The scribes and Pharisees didn’t just happen to be there; they had been sent, and were sitting in judgment as they listened to Jesus.

Luke then tells us something we already know from the previous stories of healing: God’s power was with Jesus. Luke doesn’t say this to give us new information; he says it to set up the conflict that will unfold in the verses that follow. What will the scribes and Pharisees see and think when Jesus heals a paralyzed man and forgives his sins? Will they see the power and authority of God at work, or something else?

Let’s find out.