4 DESIRE AND DETERMINISM

Primary evidence for what Luke understands by desire turns upon the exposition of its defining criterion, constraint. Three instances of his presentation are central to any further enquiry into the motif, and so deserve immediate attention: (i) the use of the expression 'must'; (ii) the personae of the 'servants' whom we encountered in the Johannine miracle story, and as well, throughout the third gospel, also the references to 'slaves'; (iii) the idea of the fulfillment of time. These all support the theology of desire in keeping with the first miracle story in the gospel of John, as evincing the touchstone of desire, constraint. We shall examine these three developments of the motif as they occur throughout the gospel of Luke.

  (i) Dei~n

The impersonal expression Dei~n is usually translated 'ought', 'it is necessary', 'it must be that', and so on. It is by no means exclusive to Luke, so for example:
Peter said to him, "Even if I must die (de/h? me su\n soi\ a)poqanei~n) with you, I will not deny you." And so said all the disciples. (Matthew 26.35)
The occurrence of this term in Luke is widespread: 2:49, 4:43, 9:22,  11.42, 12:12, 13:14, 13:33, 17:25, 18.1 (dei~n), 19:5, 21:9, 22.7 ( e!dei), 22:37, 24:7, 24.26 ( e!dei), 24:44, 24.46 ( e!dei as variant reading). There are an additional two uses of  e!dei in Acts (1.16 and 17.3), which along with the above incidences in the gospel, connect the suffering and death of Christ with this idea so central and vital to Lukan theology. In Mark the expression used less, and its use is more confined: Mark 8:31, 9:11, 13:7, 13:10, 13:14; the last three of these references being contained in the Markan apocalypse. Whereas the first time it occurs in Mark is in one of the three passion predictions (Mark 8.31):
And he began to teach them that the Son of man must (dei~) suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. (Mark 8.31)
But he charged and commanded them to tell this to no one, saying, "The Son of man must (dei~) suffer (paqei~n) many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed (a)poktanqh~nai), and on the third day be raised." (Luke 9.21, 22)
Luke is far more liberal and thoroughgoing in his use of the term, having begun it with the story of the boy Jesus in the temple, and having used it again before the first prediction of Jesus' suffering and death:
And he said to them, "How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must (dei~) be in my Father's house?" (Luke 2.49)

... but he said to them, "I must (dei~) preach the good news of the kingdom of God to other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose." (Luke 4.43)
Following the first Passion prediction we find the expression many times:
"But woe to you Pharisees! For you tithe mint and rue and every herb, and neglect justice and the love of God; these you ought  ( e!dei) to have done, without neglecting the others." (Luke 11.42)

... for the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought (dei~) to say." (Luke 12.12);

But the ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the sabbath, said to the people, "There are six days on which work ought (dei~) to be done; come on those days and be healed, and not on the sabbath day." (13.14)

"'Nevertheless I must (dei~) go my way today and tomorrow and the day following; for it cannot be (ou)k e)nde/xetai) that a prophet should perish (a)pole/sqai) away from Jerusalem.'" (13.33)

"But first he [the Son of man] must (dei~) suffer (paqei~n) many things and be rejected by this generation." (17.25)

And he told them a parable, to the effect that they ought (dei~) always to pray and not to lose heart. (18.1)

And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, make hast and come down; for I must (dei~) stay at your house today." (19.5)

"And when you hear of wars and tumults, do not be terrified; for this must (dei~) first take place, but the end will not be at once." (Luke 21.9)

Then came the day of Unleavened Bread, on which the passover lamb had to  be sacrificed. ( e!dei qu/esqai. Luke 22.7)

"For I tell you that this scripture must (dei~) be fulfilled in me, 'And he was reckoned with transgressors'; for what is written about me has its fulfillment." (Luke 22.37)

"Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of man must (dei~) be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and on the third day rise." (Luke 24.6-7)

"Was it not necessary ( e!dei) that the Christ should suffer (paqei~n) these things and enter into his glory?" (Luke 24.26)

Then he said to them, "These are my words which I spoke to you, while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the law of Moses and the prophets and the psalms must be (dei~) fulfilled." (Luke 24.44)

Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and said to them, "Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer (paqei~n) and on the third day rise from the dead ..." (Luke 24.46; variant readings contain e!dei).
Not all of these instances can be summoned in defence of the argument we are framing. However, most of them do bear instantly on Luke's portrait of the psychology of desire; that is, most of them represent fulfillment of an imperative which appears to be pre-determined. The first passion prediction (Luke 9.21-22) connects the figure of the suffering and dying Christ in keeping with the description of the Eucharist as having been instituted according to his 'earnest desire' to eat the passover with his disciples before suffering and dying on the cross. We have argued that the description of the Eucharist anchors the Lukan theology of desire, which it explicitly links Christ's passion and death:
And when the hour came (Kai\ o(/te e)ge/neto h( w(/ra), he sat at table, and the apostles with him. And he said to them, "I have earnestly desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer (paqei~n); for I tell you I shall not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God. " (Luke 22.15-16)
The expression dei~n is not used in the narrative of the Lord's Supper itself, but we should note it occurs before and after the same (Luke 22.7 and 22.37), both of which accord with the Lukan Eucharistic theology of desire. There are in all seven occasions when it is used in conjunction with either the suffering or death of Christ or both. Clearly these, as do all three immanent messianic miracles, anticipate the Eucharist, as the climactic moment, when the Eucharistic desire of Jesus itself is consummated. As noted, the opening clause 'And when the hour had come' recurs the first of the feeding miracles:
And Jesus said to her, "O woman, what have you to do with me? My hour has not yet come." (ou!pw h(/kei h( w(/pa mou. John 2.4)
This profile of desire, and of sexual desire in particular, agrees with what we said of the immanent messianic events, including the Eucharist itself, to explain their polarisation against the transcendent occasions. The use of  'had to  be sacrificed' ( e!dei qu/esqai) in 22.7 highlights the Eucharist in tandem with the motif of determinism in all three immanent (feeding) messianic miracles. Similar presentations of the same motif were noticed in some of Luke's own parables. But to miss just how substantively he ties the concept of necessity (dei~n), with the Eucharist as the culmination of not just the phenomenon of desire, but also with that of the Christ as an embodied individual, stands shoulder to shoulder with the Johannine doctrine of incarnation as reflected in the first messianic event. Therefore reading the messianic series as a complete whole, we must allow for a full correspondence between the first and the seventh events. Having urged formerly that the one-to-one correspondence maintained by the chiasmos means that Transformation Of Water Into Wine and Transfiguration are the two related Christological occasions of the series, its first and last events, we must acknowledge the essential further link between The Transformation Of Water Into Wine and the Eucharist. This necessarily incorporates The Transfiguration as part of that comprehensive pattern of events. Hence it too announces the significance of Jesus' death. We have seen Luke's insistence on the role of the cup in the Eucharist. Party to the same end is the fact that the first of the Passion predictions (Luke 9.21-22), which is proleptic of the Eucharist and with it, of the suffering, death, and resurrection of Christ, sits strategically almost immediately prior to The Transfiguration (Luke 9.28-36).

Without entering any of the contentious ethical issues that surround the question of desire, and more particularly, sexual desire, we should  not be misunderstood and so state the following caveat. The thesis argued here does not enjoin any ethical directives of abandonment to one's appetites, the concession of free rein to unbridled desire and its subsequent gratification for its own sake and as an end in itself. It is clear from the miracle narrative in John, that sexuality construed in relation to discipleship, is placed within the compass of mutual and loving obedience between two persons, or however we should define marriage. There are varying views on the subject in the present age. (See for example, a secularist ethical standpoint in Freedom And The Tie That Binds: Marriage As An Ethical Institution, by F. L. Jackson.) In the same context, we must remember not only that Luke is one of four gospels; that others, particularly those of Matthew and John, will countenance his perspective with countervailing tendencies of their own. We must also give due attention to the form of intentionality with which desire is composite, namely belief-in-desire, or to give a more theological nuance to this, faith-in-desire. Any understanding of the eschatology of desire demands that we do so.

Luke's depiction of desire simpliciter, desire itself, is thus consonant with that of the first of the seven messianic events. He Christologizes it. For this evangelist, desire remains inseparable from the identity of Christ. But this is more than a simple recognition of the fact of Jesus' own human nature as genealogically dependent on the humanity which precedes it, and related to the humanity which follows it. That is, having traced his descent from Adam to Joseph (Luke 3.23-38), and having thereby acknowledged the procreative role of his forebears, this same fact will become absolutely formative in the specifically Lukan soteriological understanding. The nature and purpose of desire and faith-in-desire are theologically defined in this manner, just as Luke defines the person and purpose of Christ vis-a-vis desire and faith-in-desire. For Luke at least, the one cannot exist without the other. To contend this is to begin to answer the questions regarding his soteriology and moreover to integrate with this gospel the eschatology of desire which we encounter in the last section of The Apocalypse. It is to begin also to relate the gospels to one another as a whole.

It would be remiss of us not to include in this list, the two Passion predictions in Luke which do not contain the dei~ formula:
But while they were marveling at everything he did, he said to his disciples, "Let these words sink into your ears; for the Son of man is to be delivered (paradi/dosqai) into the hands of men." (Luke 9.43b-44)
And taking the twelve, he said to them, "Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written of the Son of man by the prophets will be accomplished (telesqh/setai). For he will be delivered (paradoqh/setai) to the Gentiles, and will be mocked and shamelessly treated and spit upon; they will scourge him and kill him, and on the third day he will rise." (Luke 18.31-33)
Even if they do not contain the dei~ formula, these two texts are perfectly congruent with everything else we are citing as evidence for Luke's native psychological and epistemological programme. They add to the great bulk of evidence that his Christology rests upon the intentionality of desire, or as we may say, appetition and satisfaction, and upon its aconscious counterpart, the belief-in-desire, which stems from the conceptual form soma, or the body, the one specific idea forming the very heart of Lukan theology.


(ii) Dia/konov - Dou~lov

Further to the sustained use of dei~n in Luke's gospel we should interpret Jesus references to 'servant' as belonging to the same purpose, for these square with its announcement in the Johannine miracle story, and speak for the idea of submission to sexual desire as that very force majeure which, not only was pre-eminently engaged in the advent of the Christ, but which, as the miracle story also notes, and with some surprise, presently perdures:
His mother said to the servants (diako/noiv), "Do whatever he tells you." Now six stone jars were standing there, for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the steward of the feast." So they took it. When the steward of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants (dia/konoi) who had drawn the water knew (h!?deisan)), the steward of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, "Every man serves the good wine first; and when men have drunk freely, then the poor wine; but you have kept the good wine until now." (John 2.5-10)
Most if not all of the discussion about the idea of servanthood in relation to Jesus himself, has centred on the presumed adoption of the 'suffering servant' figure from Isaiah in the gospels. One of the key passages of this type is reckoned to be the 'ransom saying', a logion which concludes Mark 10.35-45, The Request Of James And John, placed immediately after the third passion prediction. Received opinion sees this as a citation from Isaiah 53.10-12. However other scholars have contended that it hearkens back to Daniel 7.  Whatever its provenance, Luke either glaringly or momentously omits Mark 10.45, assuming that he had a copy of Mark which contained the saying:
And Jesus called them to him, and said to them, "You know that those who are supposed to rule over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant (dia/konov), and whoever would be first among you must be slave (dou~lov). For the Son of man also came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom (lu/tron) for man. (Mark 10.42-45)
A dispute also arose among them, which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. And he said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors.  But not so with you; rather let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves (diakonw~n). For which is the greater, one who sits at table, or one who serves (diakonw~n). But I am among you as one who serves (diakonw~n. Luke 22.24-27)
The issues of the 'suffering servant' of Isaiah in relation to the gospel as relevant as they are, must not divert us here. (For an introduction to the topic see The Servant Of The Lord In The Teaching Of Jesus, by T. R. France). We can however undertake a summary review of the extensiveness of both words, 'servant' and 'slave', within the Lukan corpus, and a very great deal of this conforms at once to our thesis of his inherent interest in the theology of desire. So coherent is this in Luke, that in fact we have already mentioned much of this material, but without having drawn attention to the concept of fulfillment of that which is believed or judged necessary, essential, requisite, as touching upon desire. We shall list the passages which use either or both terms, 'servant' and 'slave', in that order, commenting only where necessary on their relation to the two intentional modes which establish the ground of this gospel:

The Centurion's Servant
Now a centurion had a slave (dou~lov) who was dear to him, who was sick and at the point of death. (Luke 7.2)
The theme of sexuality so fundamental to the meaning of this pericope, has already been discussed.

The Parable Of The Watchful Servants
"Let your loins (ai) o)sfu/ev) be girded and your lamps burning, and be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from marriage feast (ga/mwn), so that they may open to him at once when he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants (dou~loi) whom the master finds awake when he comes ... (Luke 12.35-37a)
"If he comes in the second watch, or in the third, and finds them so, blessed are those servants!" ( e)kei~noi. Luke 12.39)
"Blessed is that servant (dou~lov) whom the master when he comes will find so doing." (Luke 12.43)
"But if that servant says to himself, 'My master is delayed in coming,' and begins to beat the menservants (pai~dav) and the maidservants (paidi/skav), and to eat and drink and get drunk, the master of that servant (dou/lou) will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour he does not know, and will punish him, and put him with the unfaithful. And that servant (dou~lov) who knew his master's will, shall receive a severe beating.'" (Luke 12.45-47)
Again, the use of the persona(e) in this parable along with the reiteration motifs centred on eating and drinking, clearly wine or intoxicating substances, conform to the servants of the Johannine messianic miracle story, and reinforce Luke's own theological understanding of desire.

The Parable Of The Great Banquet

But he said to him, "A man once gave a great banquet, and invited many; and at the time for the banquet he sent his servant (dou~lon) to say to those who had been invited, 'Come; for all is now ready.'" (Luke 14.16, 17)
So the  servant (dou~lov) came and reported this to his master. Then the householder in anger said to his servant (dou/lw?), 'Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the ciy, and bring in the poor and maimed and blind and lame.' And the servant (dou~lov) said, 'Sir, what you commanded has been done, and still there is room.' And the master said to the servant (dou~lon), 'Go out to the highways and hedges, and compel (a)na/gkason) people to come in, that my house may be filled. For I tell you, none of those men who were invited shall taste (geu/setai) my banquet.'" (Luke 14.21-24)
There is no need to comment further on the orectic motifs which function at the level of both Eucharistic theology and the theology of desire. They establish the very backbone of the parable. The excuse proffered by the third invited man: "'I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.'" (14.20), is plainly sardonic, and at the very least emphatically ironizes marriage itself in relation to the quest for the gratification of the erotic! Equally ironic regarding the history of the interpretation of this parable, must be the use it was put to by Augustine in theologically justifying the co-erced conversion to Catholic Christianity of the reluctant Donatists. Moreover the Augustinian privileging of celibacy over marriage itself, on the heels of the precedents supplied by Pauline and post-Pauline theologies, anxiously believing in the imminence of the parousia, makes all the more trenchant the full force of the parable just as it stands. (In passing, we should also point out that Freud, with his characteristically scholastic penchant for Graecisms, used the term 'a)na/gkh' ('anangke'), which is identical with the verb that Luke applies to the banquet master's commanding necessary attendance at the banquet of the guests invited. The verb a)nagka/zw is usually rendered 'to compel', 'to constrain'. Mark and Matthew both use it in their introductions to The Walking On The Water, Mark 6.45, par. Matthew 14.22.) Nor should we ignore one of those precedents since it employs the very verb used here of sexual love by the evangelist:
Now concerning the unmarried, I have no command of the Lord, but I give my opinion as one who by the Lord's mercy is trustworthy. I think that in view of the present distress (a)na/gkhn) it is well for a person to remain as he is. Are you bound to a wife? Do not seek to be free. Are you free from a wife? Do not seek marriage. (1 Corinthians 7.25-26)
(What is remarkable is that Augustine himself should not have chosen to follow Paul's, his master's advice in this matter as regards his disposal of his own wife and his own child, both of whom we know him to have loved.) Luke himself is familiar with the same use of the same word:
"Alas for those who are with child and those who give suck in those days! For great distress (a)na/gkh) shall be upon the earth and wrath upon this people; " (Luke 21.23)
As a rejoinder to those references in both Luke and Paul which use this word not in the sense it possesses for the theological psychology of desire, mention should be made of the following passage in The Apocalypse, where the consistent use of 'servant' agrees with what we have already noticed. In this study we are in the process of determining the individual and unique psychological and epistemological focus of each of the four gospels, in order to interpret their several soteriological-eschatological perspectives, for these in fact vary as widely as possible. There is more implied in the word 'end' however than just soteriology-eschatology, even though this be the prime meaning of the same. For these very psychic and epistemic generalities, the pervasive forms of intentionality, which manifestly establish the specific and unique orientations of the gospels and which are essential to the doctrine of mind, that is, logos, and so too, language itself, have a final import from the standpoint of time. That is, if mind and time as that in which we are ineluctibly borne towards our death are inextricably involved in what is suggested in the term 'transfiguration', effectively a synonym in the narrative of that name for 'death' or 'departure' ( e)codon Luke 9.31), then it is to The Apocalypse that we must look for this aspect of the doctrine of the 'end'. The working hypothesis we are following is that each of the four sevenfold series, prompted by the hermeneutic of The Feeding Of The Four Thousand, functions consensually  with one of the four gospels. In the case of Luke, this is the last of the series, that of the bowls of the qumo\v of God, which introduces the visions of the eschatological banquet:

After this I heard what seemed to be the loud voice of a great multitude in heaven crying, "Hallelujah! Salvation (swthri/a) and glory and power belong to our God, for his judgements are true and just; he has judged the great harlot (po/rnhn) who corrupted the earth with her fornication (pornei/a?), and he has avenged on her the blood of his servants (dou/lwn)." Once more they cried, "Hallelujah! The smoke from her goes up for ever and ever." And the twenty-four elders and the four living creatures fell down and worshiped God who is seated on the throne, saying "Amen. Hallelujah!"

And from the throne came a voice crying, "Praise our God, all you his servants (dou~loi), you who fear, small and great." Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the sound of many waters and like the sound of mighty thunderpeals, crying, "Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice (xai/rw~men) and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to be clothed with fine linen, bright and pure' - for the linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.

And the angel said to me, "Write this: Blessed are those are invited to the marriage super of the lamb." And he said to me, "These words are true words of God." Then I fell down at his feet to worship him, but he said to me, "You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you and your brethren (su/ndoulo/v sou/ ei)mi kai\ tw~n a)delfw~n) who hold the testimony of Jesus. Worship God." For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy. (Apocalypse 19.1-10)

That this passage and others in the last quartet of The Apocalypse are not intetertextually related to the Lukan parable is inconceivable. The cross-references usually supplied for the text beginning at Apocalypse 10.9 refer to Luke 14.15s, both passages sharing the introductory makarismos, delivered by Jesus in Luke and by the angel in The Apocalypse. The parable  of The Great Banquet in Luke, (also contained in Matthew, but there in a somehow confused state, since it mixes two distinct parables), certainly couples with his later account of The Last Supper, an effect the nearest to which the text in The Apocalypse comes by means of the repeated verb 'worship' (vv 4 and 10).

No apologia for the image of 'the great harlot' against the rather shrill invective of latter-day feminist polemics is offered here. The term itself, po/rnhn, might well be rendered simply 'wickedness', or 'iniquity', though with an obvious feminine inflection. It remains a crucial ingredient of The Apocalypse, 'the unveiling', and cuts to the heart of its conceptualisation of the sexual psychology of evil. In this vein it should not escape our notice that the work also contains an equally unflinching judgement on what it understands as the masculine form of evil. The view taken here is that one of the intellectual justifications for this the 'ultimate' member of the canon as a whole, is its reconfiguration of the second creation story, which becomes apparent in chapter 12, although the hermeneutics surrounding this part of the narrative are demanding in the extreme. By this, we mean that the Pauline adoption of the Genesis 3 narrative as historically veridical, involving  real and actual individuals who act as prototypes of both sexes, is simply untenable, in the post-Darwinian era. In none of the gospels themselves do we find this appropriation of the myth as historical verity. Instead we find their adoption of the first creation story, with which the messianic miracle series is systematically, that is, theologically, related as analogous. The future remains open. As Whitehead puts it: "It is the business of the future to be dangerous."  Who then can say what it does or doesn't hold? Surely the possibility if not probability, of a final and anthropogenic cataclysm remains. By 'anthropogenic' we mean precisely masculine and feminine iniquity. To deny this, is to disavow a central premise of Christian theology: that the two radical forms of evil, greed and destructiveness, the former typologically feminine, the latter typologically masculine, establish the complete trajectory of history qua 'anthropology' in its barest outlines. Concerning that, Paul and Augustine both were certainly uncompromisingly grim as well as clear-sighted. The Apocalypse remains an uncongenial piece of literature for reminding us constantly of the reality of evil.

This then is one of the distinct merits of the Apocalypse; that it recasts the 'archaeology' of 'the fall' so called, as teleological. In just this way it liberates us from the shortcomings of the Pauline reading of the J creation narrative as historical rather than mythological. There is alpha and omega, a 'beginning and an end'. These and other permutations of the same formula, 'first and last','heavens and the earth', the common Christological titles, are literally embodied in the two texts, the creation stories of Genesis and The Apocalypse. This is a certain salutary benefit The Apocalypse confers. It closes the canon just as Luke's narrative of The Ascension limits the further multiplication of appearances of the risen Christ. The modus operandi of The Apocalypse is that of a book about books, namely the entirety of the canon. Thus to allege one of its primary functions as the deconstruction and reconstruction of the mythology of Genesis 3 sorts perfectly with its governing intention. It is the best answer we possess to Paul's mythological word-view which will not survive contemporary scrutiny.

But although much of the real value of The Apocalypse as a whole lies in its eschatological synthesis of the gospel, it is not confined there. For the attribution of specific intentional forms to the four gospels itself when allied with their integration in this last book of the canon, must finally concern the theology of religions. It is there, beginning with the letters to the 'seven churches which are in Asia' (Apocalypse 1.4) that we must interpret both this book itself and its functional theological value for the world of the third millennium. We shall say more concerning this at the conclusion of the essay on Luke, for whereas desire and the faith-in-desire are foundational to the soteriological perspective of this gospel, they point away from the Christian tradition to another in which desire is also a fundamental psychological, epistemological and soteriological reality.

The Servant Ploughing

"Will any one of you, who has a servant (dou~lon) plowing, or keeping sheep, say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down at table'? Will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, and gird yourself and serve (diako/nei) me, till I eat and drink; and afterwards you shall eat and drink'? Does he thank the servant (dou/lw?) because he did what was commanded (diataxqe/nta)? So you also, when you have done all that is commanded (diataxqe/nta)  you, say, "We are unworthy servants (dou~loi); we have only done what was our duty (w)fei/lomen).'" Luke 17.7-10)

Both verbs diata/ssw (to command, to prescribe), and w)fei/lw/w)fele/w (to profit, to be profitable, to be due), give added weight to the sense of need and or necessity with which the parabolic  injunction is already imbued.

The Lost Son

We have examined this parable already, for it comports well with the guiding tenet of Luke's theology as focusing the orectic, and desire. There are several references to 'servants' in the story. We cite them again here in order to complete the presentation of the idea of servanthood in connection with the fulfillment of obligations in Luke:

"But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired servants (mi/sqioi) have bread enough and to spare, but I perish here with hunger!'"  (Luke 15.17)

"But the father said to his servants, (dou/louv) 'Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring the fatted calf and kill it; and let us eat and make merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' And they began to make merry." (Luke 15.22-24)

"Now his elder brother was in the field; and he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants (pai/dwn) and asked what this meant ... " (Luke 15.26)

The servants here, as in the other stories, are integral to the drama. We can hardly imagine the scene, one every bit as convivial as those of the three immanent messianic miracles, without them. The story of the miracle at Cana evinces and explains the socially celebratory aspect of marriage. Erotic love may indeed be the most private of any form of appetition and satisfaction, but it is in just this way, the beginning of a transition from the couple to the fully fledged society, a trajectory which mirrors that from conation to cognition, from desire to knowing. We have illustrated this by means of the above images which deal with the three phenomenal forms of desire: the erotic, the economic and the hierarchic. The Eucharistic modes of sentience, or eating and drinking as we may say, cover all of these. For haptic, optic and acoustic sentience take their cue from the gustic, that is Eucharistic mode, and this is never more clearly so than it is in the gospel of Luke. The closest of any of these three links is that between the Christological form of sense-percipience, the haptic, and the Eucharistic, or osmic-gustic mode.


Whether we translate doulos 'slave' or 'servant', this persona is  a commonplace of New Testament theology, and not confined to the gospels. Philemon is the eponymous runaway slave of the shortest of the Pauline epistles. Paul uses the same figure elsewhere: Romans 1.1 where Paul describes himself as 'a slave/servant of Jesus Christ'; and similarly in Galatians 1.10; in Philippians 1.1 he describes himself and Timothy as 'servants/slaves of Jesus Christ'. 1 Corinthians 7.21-22 contains the paradoxical statement: 'For he who was called in the Lord as a slave is a freedman of the Lord.' The doulos also appears in Ephesians 6.6 and Colossians 4.12. That said,
Paul's overriding antipathy to images of erotic love of the kind that we find in the gospel would sem to proscribe interpretations of his references in light of the gospel narratives which I am proposing.

I am not suggesting that every such reference other than those found in the Pauline epistles be construed relatively to the deployment of the figure in the Johannine miracle story, where its resonance with the reality of erotic desire is indubitable. But if we are to accept not only the latter narrative as indispensable to a comprehensive hermenutic of both the messianic series and the story of beginning, in the service of Christian psychological doctrine, but also the identification of Christ with Eros, the bridegroom, a metaphor essential to the gospels as well as The Apocalypse, we cannot shy away from the inferential value of these remaining texts in the gospels which would appear to take their cue from the messianic narrative.



TIME AND FULFILLMENT

The compact association between these ideas connects to those already noted, the figures of the 'servant' and 'slave', and the concept of necessity, as belonging to the theology of desire; we might just as well say, the Christological nature of desire. In the last of the passion predictions we found:

And taking the twelve, he said to them, "Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written of the Son of man by the prophets will be accomplished (telesqh/setai). For he will be delivered (paradoqh/setai) to the Gentiles, and will be mocked and shamelessly treated and spit upon; they will scourge him and kill him, and on the third day he will rise." (Luke 18.31-33)

None of Mark's three Passion predictions uses the verb 'to accomplish', telew. But Luke readily affiliates it with his portrait of Jesus as eschatological prophet. Its usage coheres fully with what has been put above; namely, Luke's characteristic and theological depiction of the life and death of Jesus as external to the promptings of his own will, and more particularly the image of both desire and of faith-in-desire as those Christological radicals components of consciousness which reveal the immanent Son. The very first time we meet the expression in Luke is in close proximity to the firts usage of dei~ (Luke 2,49), and in conjunction with the theme of prophecy. '[A] prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher', has just spoken of Jesus 'to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.' (Luke 2.36 -38):

And when they had performed ( e)te/lesan) everything according to the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own city, Nazareth. (Luke 2.39)

The episode more or less sets the tone for much of the deployment of this verb, and a cognate of the word almost immediately recurs:

And when the feast was ended (teleiwsa/ntwn), as they were returning, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents did not know it, (Luke 43.)

The noun te/lov (telos), we know in various English permutations which have to do with the concept of 'end'. It connotes the ideas of following, perfection, consummation, fulfillment, satisfaction, the final member of a series and so on, and not surprisingly, comes in the last book of the canon, tolerably close to the end of the same itself:

"Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense, to repay everyone for what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end (h( a)rxh\ kai\ to\ te/lov)." (Apocalypse 22.12-13)

Regardless of whether Luke adopts the 'suffering servant' figure of Deutero-Isaiah, it is clear that his portrayal of servanthood and deaconship, conflating these roles for the moment, reinforces the theology of desire and faith-in-desire in keeping with its role in the first messianic miracle story. For the essential concept shared by all of these passages just quoted, echoes the psychology of determinism. The same complex of themes are germane to the image of the Mosaic eschatological portrait we find in this gospel. That is, the imperative of prophetic fulfillment forges  continuity between the former epoch and that inaugurated by Jesus' advent. This maintains the same psychology of the satisfaction of desire. It envisions the Christ as compliant with a constraining power. His obedienct submission to his destiny effects a purpose in just the same way that memory itself acts causatively.

The last verse of the messianic miracle story, '" ... but you have kept the good wine until now."' (John 2.10), comports with Luke's own abiding concern over the delay of the parousia. Effectively, just as his proper intentional stance, establishing with those of the other gospels an integrated whole, one to be taken up and dealt with in the focus on eschatological fullness of The Apocalypse, centres on desire, this must be related immediately to the overriding sense of this gospel for the continuity of existence itself. He is not writing about desire for its own sake. He is not contending for the pursuit of happiness, sheer hedonic satisfaction, licit or otherwise. There is indeed a profound eschatological awareness in Luke. We encounter it both in 17.20-37 and again in 21.5-36, much of which is modeled on the Markan Apocalypse.  Like Matthew, he is not averse to combining both motifs, the expressions of erotic love upon which the continued existence of humankind must depend, and the parousia. Luke is intellectually committed to the idea of the consummation of the age:

"As it was in the days of Noah, so will it be in the days of the Son of man. They ate, they drank, they married, they were given in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and the flood came and destroyed them all." (Luke 17.26-27; par. Matthew 24.36-39)

What is remarkable about this passage is the note on which it ends, for it summarily returns us to our own existence as embodied:

"There will be two women grinding together; one will be taken and the other left." And they said to him, "Where, Lord?" He said to them, "Where the body (sw~ma) is, there the eagles will be gathered together." (Luke 17.25-36)

Even so, his broader presentiments of the course of history would seem to lie more sympathetically with the mood of the final verse of the Johannine miracle story, which certainly does not envision the end of time as lying within the imminent future.


THE JOURNEYING BODY

We have already examined several narratives belonging to this section of the gospel. Within it, the verb first treated above, dei~n, occurs a total of eight times. The first occurrence of the term was in conjunction with Jerusalem, as if Luke were alluding to the city as Jesus' destiny from the beginning:
And he said to them, "How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be (dei~ ei)nai/) in my Father's house?" (Luke 2.49)
It is abundantly clear, the point at which Luke begins the travel narrative is agreed upon:
When the days drew near for him to be received up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him, who went and entered a village of the Samaritans, to make ready for him; but the people would not receive him, because his face was set towards Jerusalem. And when his disciples James and John saw it, they said, "Lord, do you want us to bid fire come down from heaven and consume them?" But he turned and rebuked them. And they went on to another village. (Luke 9.51-56)
There is less consensus however, as to its precise ending. What is sufficient for our purposes is that Luke starts to recount the ministry in Jerusalem immediately following the parable of The Ten Pounds:
And when he had said this, he went on ahead going up to Jerusalem. (Luke 19.28),
Whatever determinations we make concerning its conclusion, assuming Luke's use of some form of Mark's gospel as a precedent, there is no doubt that the journey to Jerusalem holds far greater theological significance for him than it did for Mark. It is difficult to determine where precisely in the gospel of Mark the journey begins. In Luke, it is announced distinctly, but in Mark there is no such clear indication, although there are many references to 'the way'. If we take his statements at face value geographically, immediately after having healed the blind man at Bethsaida (Mark 8.22-26), Jesus cannot be on the way to Jerusalem, for he is traveling north rather south:
And Jesus went on with his disciples, to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way ( e)n th~? o(dw~?) he asked his disciples, "Who do men say that I am?" (Mark 8.27)
Luke's redaction of Peter's Confession avoids any mention of the city (Luke 9.18-20), but Matthew maintains it (Matthew 16.13). This is often taken to be Mark's starting point for the journey to Jerusalem, notwithstanding its confused geography. Certainly, this is how Matthew would appear to read him. The first of his three passion predictions, which occurs in all three synoptic gospels immediately following these, the opening lines of Peter's Confession At Caesarea Philippi, and immediately before The Transfiguration, includes mention of the city by name, even though neither the Markan nor Lukan parallels does:
From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must (dei~) go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. (Matthew 16.21)

And he began to teach them that the Son of man must (dei~) suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again (Mark 8.31)

But he charged and commanded them to tell this to no one, saying, "The Son of man must
(dei~) suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised." (Luke 9.21-22)
To complicate matters further, Jesus is not shown in Matthew's gospel to have left Galilee until Matthew 19.1. The actual journey in Matthew is about two and a half chapters long, little more than it is in Mark, (Matthew 19.1-21.16). Another and more immediate problem, is that neither Matthew nor Luke use the expression 'on the way' in their accounts of Peter's Confession. (Luke also drops it from his pericope Who Is The Greatest (Luke 9.46-48), as does Matthew (Matthew 18.1-5); the Markan version of which included it, (Mark 9.33-37). The second Markan passion prediction (Mark 9.30-32), begins:
They went on from there and passed through Galilee. (Mark 9.30a)
This also lacks any reference to Jerusalem, as do its Matthean and Lukan parallels (Matthew 17.22-23, Luke 9.43b-45). Mark's third passion prediction does refer to the city, and both Matthew and Luke follow suit:
And they were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them; and they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid. And taking the twelve again, he began to tell them what was to happen to him (Mark 10.32)

And as Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside and on the way he said to them ... (Matthew 20.17)


And taking the twelve, he said to them, "Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written of the Son of man by the prophets will be accomplished." (Luke 18.31)


The Transfiguration is notably the last of the six messianic miracles. Its overtones, bearing upon the subject of not only Jesus own death, but death in general, are unmistakeable, and they call for detailed comment here in connection with the other Christological miracle of the messianic series. Because of the actual confusion surrounding Mark's account of Jesus 'on the way' north to Caesarea Philippi after the miracle at Bethsaida, as well as for the reasons just given, Jesus' transfiguration well serves the distinction of a departure point of the journey in Mark, a fact which Luke seems to confirm by his precise stipulation of the actual beginning of the journey shortly after this event. The tone of the travel narrative is signaled by his singular use of the expression e!xodon in the Transfiguration narrative (Luke 9.31). It is usually translated 'departure', and with the ensuing passion prediction, it leads naturally into the travel narrative:
And behold, two men talked with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his departure, which he was to accomplish at Jerusalem. (Luke 9.30, 31)
Several meanings accrue from the expression e!xodon, one of which reinforces the association Luke consistently makes between Jesus and the Mosaic eschatological prophet. Whereas Mark's account of The Transfiguration tends to emphasise Elijah, the first mentioned of the two, not just by means of the extended discourse on him and the Son of man figure which follows the miracle narrative, but also by means of a conspicuous use of the preposition linking Moses 'with' Elijah, su\n, (Mark 9.4), Luke tends to emphasise Moses. This is a feature of his text to which we shall return. The meaning that most concerns us, Luke has already conveyed in the conclusion of the previous passion prediction, which contains the dei~ formula (Luke 9.21, 22, quoted above:
But I tell you truly, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God (Luke 9.27)
The journey to Jerusalem, like all journeys, is directed towards a destination. This fact aligns it too with the presentation of the principle characteristic of desire, constraint, once again underlining the coextensive relation of desire and death within the context of eschatology, articulated prior to The Transfiguration. The proposition that the guiding psychological construct of Luke's gospel is fixed upon desire, and that its governing epistemological intentionality concerns belief, comports with his portrayal of the body's journey towards its necessary final destiny, death. Only in Jesus case, the destiny of the body is to be realized in resurrection and ascension. For the disciples then, the passage to Jerusalem is redolent of a fate similar to that of Jesus. Once begun on a path with an appointed end, there is no turning back. Cautionary advice is thus soon given on the journey, to the would-be followers of Jesus:
Another said, "I will follow you Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Jesus said to him, "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God." (Luke10.61-61)
The Transfiguration as the final member of its series, signals a point of no return. It is the last of the three transcendent messianic miracles, though we need to be mindful of the sense in which it redefines transcendence. In the gospel of John, the final three miracles are initiated by the single 'crossing to the other side' in that gospel, The Walking On The Water. The last two are healing events. But all conform typologically to transcendence. However, the chiastic structure of the complete messianic series alternates the two subspecies, so that the ultimacy of The Transfiguration resoundingly decides in favour of transcendence. If we interpret the series according to the several prompts in the gospel of John, beginning with the 'first of his signs', as marking the life trajectory of the person from early adulthood to death, then the journey to Jerusalem is begun by Jesus' transfiguration. In terms of a developmental psychological reading, this last messianic miracle is commensurate with the last stage of one's life. But rather than an end, the journey towards death signals the beginning of a journey which follows Jesus.

Luke several times more mentions the journey to Jerusalem within the block, recalling the initial statement. In all, there are another four references to the same:
He went on his way through towns and villages, teaching and journeying towards Jerusalem. (Luke 13.22)
On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. (Luke 17.11)

And taking the twelve, he said to them "Behold we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written of the Son of man by the prophets will be accomplished (telesqh/setai. Luke 18.31)


As they heard these things, he proceeded to tell a parable, because he was near to Jerusalem, and because they supposed that the kingdom of God was to appear immediately. (Luke 19.11)
The amount of text intervening between these five signposts diminishes with each stage. Thus the narrative itself gains momentum as the journey proceeds. Other references within the travel narrative to the journey, though they d not designate Jerusalem as its destination, occur within the same section. As soon as the first pericope which recounts The Samaritan Village Refusing Jesus has ended, Luke repeats the motif. We cite here also the further similar references:
As they were going along the road, a man said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go." (Luke 9.57)

After this the Lord appointed seventy others, and sent them on ahead of him, two by two, into every town and place where he himself was about to come. (Luke 10.1)
Now as they went on their way ( E)n de\ tw~? poreu/esqai), he entered a village; and a woman named Martha received him into her house. (Luke 10.38)
The Lament Over Jerusalem combines the name of the city; the dei~ formula; and a second imperative in the negative. It also refers to Jesus' accomplishment of his course, that is, his death, and repeats the journey motif:
At that very hour some Pharisees came, and said to him, "Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you." And he said to them, "Go and tell that fox, 'Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I finish my course (teleiou~mai). Nevertheless I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following; for it cannot be that a prophet should perish away from Jerusalem.'" (Luke 13.31-33)

As he drew near to Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging; and hearing a multitude going by, he inquired what this meant. (Luke 18.35)

He entered Jericho and was passing through. (Luke 19.1)
Luke develops what was explicitly stated in the first Johannine miracle story by means of his extended story of Jesus' journey to Jerusalem. It is the story of the trajectory towards the destined end of Jesus' life on earth. It fits the presentation of the defining moment of desire already put in the various ways we have listed. That is, it reinforces the description of a 'natural' force not only to which Jesus succumbs, but with which he complies readily. Jesus submits himself to the purposefulness of his death. A secondary part of this exposition, is the description of the destruction of Jerusalem itself. The Markan and Matthean apocalypses (Mark chapter 13, Matthew chapter 24) do not refer to the destruction of Jerusalem as such; they both do predict the destruction of the temple (Mark 13.1-2, Matthew 24.1-2), although Matthew places The Lament Over Jerusalem just before his apocalypse (Matthew 23.37-39). The Lukan apocalypse however, mentions both the temple and the city:
And as some spoke of the temple, how it was adorned with noble stones and offerings, he said, "As for these things which you see, the days shall come when there shall not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down." (Luke 21.5-6)
"But when you see Jerusalem surrounded by armies, know that the desolation ( e)rh/mwsiv) has come near." (Luke 21.20)
This agrees with the Johannine vision of the destruction of the temple (John 2.18-22), which follows The Cleansing Of The Temple (2.13-17):
The Jews then said to him, "What sign (shmei~on) have you to whow us for doing this?" Jesus answered them, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews then said, "It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you will raise it up in three days?" But he spoke of the temple of his body (tou~ naou ~tou~ sw/matov). (John 2.18-20)
The synoptic versions of The Cleansing Of The Temple locate it after the story of Jesus' Triumphal Entry Into Jerusalem (Mark 11.1-11 and vv 15-19; Matthew 21.1-11 and vv 12-17; Luke 19.28-40 and vv 45-48), all well in advance of the predictions of The Destruction Of The Temple, whereas in John, the latter follows the former directly. Relative to the Johannine version (John 2.13-22), Luke's record is not only understated, but discernibly summary, and even has the hallmarks of an afterthought. In the gospel of John, the narratives are preceded immediately by the first miracle story, which is unsurprising given that the motif of purification is present in its background. The repetition of the signature word 'sign' (John 2.11, 18) further links the miracle with the later event, and his format allows for the full significance of the metaphor associating the temple with the body. That is not to say that he sacralizes its sexual function even given the potential for ritualization of sexual activity in the human world, and its antecedent sub-human realm, where courtship rituals among animals of various species prevail. But certainly the Johannine redaction allows for a view of sexual love which is accommodating of the notion that its recursive and periodic character relates it to time itself. For John, the body, if not actual sexuality, may be a mirror of sorts of the worship and more specifically the sacrificial rites carried out in the temple, so that the later episode adds to our understanding of the initial miracle story. The two texts announce the essential tie between haptic consciousness and the conceptual form, soma, and therefore what is specific to Luke's own eschatological convictions: the significance of desire in relation to the resurrection of the body. Luke himself never uses the same metaphorical construct, the body as temple, although it occurs in Paul as well as John, which suggests it was part of the repertoire of early Christian theology. Luke however is well aware of the implications for Judaic temple worship of the advent of Christ:
"Our fathers had the tent (skhnh\) of witness in the wilderness, even as he who spoke to Moses directed him to make it, according to the pattern that he had seen. Our fathers in turn brought it in with Joshua when they dispossessed the nations which God thrust out before our fathers. So it was until the days of David, who found favour in the sight of God and asked leave to find a habitation for the God of Jacob. But it was Solomon who built a house (oi!kon) for him. Yet the Most High does not dwell in houses made with hands; as the prophet says, 'Heaven is my throne, and earth is my footstool. What house will you build for me, says the Lord, or what is the place (to/pov) of my rest? Did not my hand make all these things?' (Acts 7.44-49)
These lines sort well with the major treatment of the obsolescence of the sacrificial system of Judaism, a prominent subject of The Letter To The Hebrews. It envisions Jesus as the great high priest 'after the order of Melchizedek' (Hebrews 4.14-5.10, and chapters 7-10). This will concern us in dealing with The Feeding Of The Five Thousand, and its role in the gospel of Mark, as well as with the doctrine of the logos and the gospel of John. The ontological background of The Letter To The Hebrews, like that of certain sections of the gospel of John, we will discuss in relation to the creation story, as well as Platonic and middle Platonist cosmologies, particularly in relation to the doctrine of the forms or ideas. But here we are concentrating on the gospel of Luke, and its connection to the first miracle of the messianic series. The link John forges between that miracle and the subsequent actions of Jesus in the temple in which the latter is seen as replaced by 'the temple of his body', reverts to the hymn with which this gospel began:
And the word became flesh and dwelt ( e)skh/nwsen) among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only son (monogenou~v) from the Father. (John 1.14)
It is because of, rather than in spite of, the difference in their theological idioms that the gospels of Luke and John should be considered in relation to one another. Figuratively, the essence of their sameness in difference has already been put in respect of time. They stand emblematically for those juxtaposed and extreme moments in the year, the two solstitial and pivotal points of the annual cycle. For the winter and summer solstices act paradigmatically analogous to their respective Christological inclinations. There is no need to rehearse the argument for which again. What this now entails instead, is a much closer examination of the same two messianic miracles which similarly to the temporal compass function as peripheries to the series in its entirety, the first and last events a propos of Eucharistic and baptismal theologies. We can now conclude this section of the argument for Luke by noting just how consistently the construct of appetition-satisfaction, the 'eucharistic' motif remains for the travel narrative, which as noted, formally began with:
When the days drew near for him to be received up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. (Luke 9.51)
This resoundingly marks the point of departure, the 'exodus' which had been announced during Transfiguration. Several of the main meal scenes are contained within the extensive travel narrative, even though  this theme of appetition-satisfaction which buttresses Luke's theology of desire stands at some remove from the ideas central to The Transfiguration, which posits the transcendence of desire, that is, the transcendence of sexual desire which physical in nature. We should not forget that The Transfiguration as it presents the category haptic imagination, is a portrait of the canonical instance of the desire-to-know, and the obvious rapport its must maintain with erotic desire. All synoptic versions of the baptism, a narrative with which this last messianic event is indissolubly linked, and in which all synoptic accounts used 'the Beloved' (or 'my son the Beloved'), in apposition to the identification of Jesus as 'my Son'. This is spoken by a 'voice from heaven' Virtually the same thing occurs at The Transfiguration, except that this time Jesus is identified by 'a voice from the cloud' as 'my Son', and whereas Mark and Matthew maintain the epithet 'Beloved', Luke prefers 'my Son, my Chosen'. We shall address the importance of The Transfiguration directly, along with the meaning of its complement, the first of the messianic signs. Even though all three immanent-feeding messianic miracles have taken place prior to the departure for Jerusalem, and at the outset the missionary twelve are enjoined to take no bread, (9.3), several significant stories of Jesus sharing meals remain to be told, as do other presentations of the thematic construct of appetition-satisfaction: The Petition For Daily Bread, (11.3), The Importunate Friend At Midnight, (Luke 11.5-13); The Denunciation Of The Pharisees And Lawyers 'astonished to see that he [Jesus] did not first wash before dinner', (Luke 11.37-44); The Cure Of The Man with Dropsy While Dining With The Ruler, (14.1-6); The Guest And The Host, (14.7-11); Hospitality To Pariahs, (14.12-14); The Great Banquet, (14.15-24); "This Man Receives Sinners And Eats With Them", the introduction to The Parable Of The Lost Sheep, (15.1, 2); The Lost Son (15.11-32); The Rich Man And Lazaros (16.19-31); The Dutiful Servant, (17.7-10); The Days Of The Son Of Man, (17.22-37); Jesus And Zachaeus, (19.1-9); Denouncing The Scribes For Loving Places Of Honour At Feasts, (20.45-47); and The Exhortation To Watchfulness And Against Dissipation And Drunkenness, (21.34-36). All of these are pericopae to which the theme appetition-satisfaction is more than merely incidental, are substantively freighted with the Lukan theology of desire

But of course, the paramount occasion to which these are oriented forwards, is the Eucharist. Concomitantly, so I shall argue, the event from which they and the other pericopae of their type tend, which resembles it, not the least because of its Christological content, is the very first sign of the messianic series, The Transformation Of Water Into Wine. Therefore, the relation of these two narratives to one another must now occupy us.


This page was updated on 28th January 2017.

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