Commentary - Luke 6:6-11

Bird's-eye view

In this brief but potent account, Luke gives us a snapshot of the central conflict of Jesus’ ministry. It is not a conflict between good and evil in some abstract sense, but rather a collision between two kingdoms, two conceptions of righteousness. On the one hand, we have the Lord of the Sabbath, Jesus Christ, who embodies the true meaning of God’s law, which is life, mercy, and restoration. On the other, we have the scribes and Pharisees, the religious establishment, who have turned the law into a brittle, life-crushing idol. The setting is a synagogue on the Sabbath, the very place and time dedicated to the worship of God. But a man with a debilitating injury is present, and his presence turns the holy place into a testing ground. Will God’s law be used to heal or to harm? Will the Sabbath be a day of liberation or a day for tightening chains? Jesus, knowing their hearts, forces the issue into the open, demonstrating that true Sabbath-keeping is about doing good and giving life, which is the very essence of His mission. The result is a miracle that restores a man’s hand and a rage that reveals the murderous hearts of His opponents.

Outline

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 6 Now it happened that on another Sabbath He entered the synagogue and was teaching; and there was a man there whose right hand was withered.

Luke notes that this was "another Sabbath," setting it in sequence with the previous conflict over the disciples plucking grain. The battle lines are already drawn. Jesus is not avoiding the fight; He goes right back to the synagogue to teach. He is pressing His claim as the Lord of the Sabbath. The presence of the man with the withered hand is not a coincidence in God's providence. Here is a living, breathing illustration of what a broken world looks like. His right hand, the hand of strength, of work, of greeting, is useless. It is a picture of impotence, of the curse. And he is in the synagogue, the place of worship, a place that ought to be about restoration and life, but which had become a place of sterile regulation.

v. 7 And the scribes and the Pharisees were watching Him closely to see if He heals on the Sabbath, so that they might find reason to accuse Him.

The religious leaders are not there to worship. They are not there to learn. They are there to surveil. The Greek word for "watching closely" is paratereō, which has the sense of a malicious, hostile observation. They are hunting for an infraction. Notice their central concern: not the man and his suffering, but the Sabbath and their interpretation of it. They have turned the gift of Sabbath rest into a weapon. They are looking for a reason to accuse Him, which means they have already judged Him in their hearts. Their piety is a sham, a cover for a deep-seated hatred of the authority of Jesus. They want to trap God in a web of their own man-made regulations. This is the essence of legalism. It isn't about a high view of the law, but rather a high view of our handling and interpretation of the law.

v. 8 But He knew what they were thinking, and He said to the man with the withered hand, “Get up and come forward!” And he stood up and came forward.

Here is the divine prerogative. Jesus knows their thoughts. He is not reacting to their whispers or their notes; He is reacting to the wickedness in their hearts. He sees the trap they are setting, and instead of avoiding it, He walks right into it, and springs it on them. He doesn't debate them in the corner. He brings the issue front and center. By calling the man with the withered hand to the middle of the room, Jesus makes the abstract concrete. This is no longer a theoretical discussion about Sabbath rules. It is now about this man, this withered hand, this real-life suffering. He is forcing everyone present to choose a side. Will you stand with the man in need of a miracle, or with the men who would use the law to prevent it? The man's obedience is simple and immediate. He gets up and comes forward, an act of faith in itself.

v. 9 And Jesus said to them, “I ask you, is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save a life or to destroy it?”

Jesus now puts the question to them, and it is a masterful question. He reframes the entire debate. They were thinking in categories of "work" versus "rest." Jesus thinks in categories of "good" versus "harm," "saving life" versus "destroying it." He shows that neutrality is not an option. To neglect to do good when you have the power to do so is, in fact, to do harm. To refuse to save a life is to participate in its destruction. By their inaction, and by their desire to prevent His action, the Pharisees were aligning themselves with harm and destruction. They were the true Sabbath-breakers, because the Sabbath was given for life and blessing, and they were using it to suffocate both. Of course, they have no answer for Him. The question exposes their moral bankruptcy.

v. 10 And after looking around at them all, He said to him, “Stretch out your hand!” And he did so, and his hand was restored.

That look must have been something. Mark's gospel tells us He looked around at them "with anger, being grieved at their hardness of heart" (Mark 3:5). This is a holy anger, a righteous wrath. It is not the petty, self-serving anger we are prone to. When Jesus gets angry, a withered hand is healed. When we get angry, a hole gets punched in the sheetrock. His anger is directed at the sin, at the hardness of heart that would leave a man in his misery for the sake of a religious technicality. Then comes the command. "Stretch out your hand!" This is a command that, in his own power, the man could not obey. His hand was withered. But the command of Christ comes with the power to obey it. This is how salvation works. God commands us to do what we cannot do, repent, believe, live righteously, and then He gives the grace and power to do it. The man's obedience is the evidence of his faith, and the result is immediate and complete restoration. The hand was not just made a little better; it was restored, made whole as the other.

v. 11 But they themselves were filled with rage, and were discussing together what they might do to Jesus.

Here is the terrible punchline. A man has just been miraculously healed. A withered limb has been made whole. A life has been restored. The proper response is awe, worship, gratitude, joy. But their response is rage. The Greek word is anoia, which means folly or madness. They were filled with a senseless fury. Why? Because their authority had been challenged, their system had been exposed, and their hypocrisy had been laid bare for all to see. A display of God's mercy and power made them furious. This reveals the deep truth that the heart of the legalist is not just mistaken; it is murderous. They immediately begin to conspire. "What they might do to Jesus." They are the ones who are truly doing harm on the Sabbath. Jesus asked if it was lawful to save a life or destroy it. They had their answer. Faced with the choice, they chose destruction. Their devotion was not to God, but to their own power, and they would kill the Son of God to protect it.

Application

This passage puts a sharp question to the church in every generation. Where do we find ourselves in this story? It is easy for us to stand with Jesus and condemn the Pharisees, but their sin is a perennial temptation for religious people.

First, we must check our motives. Are we more concerned with our theological systems, our traditions, and our rules than we are with the actual people God has placed in our lives? It is possible to have a perfectly orthodox system that is used as a club to beat people, rather than a balm to heal them. The Sabbath was given as a gift for man's good, a day for worship and rest and mercy. When our application of God's law brings bondage and misery instead of freedom and life, we are doing it wrong. We are acting like Pharisees.

Second, we must recognize the absolute authority of Jesus Christ. He is the Lord of the Sabbath. He is the Lord of the Church. He is the Lord of our lives. He gets to define what is good and right, not us. The Pharisees' rage came from the fact that Jesus was not playing by their rules. True Christianity is not about getting Jesus to sign off on our agenda; it is about submitting our entire lives to His. This means we must be willing to have our cherished traditions and interpretations challenged by the plain teaching of Scripture and the person of Christ.

Finally, we must see that a confrontation with Jesus always forces a choice. There is no middle ground. Jesus brings the man into the center of the room and asks a question that divides the house. We are either for doing good, for saving life, for mercy, or we are against it. Inaction in the face of need is a decision. Apathy in the face of Christ's power is a decision. We are either softened by the grace of God displayed in the healing, or we are hardened by it, like the Pharisees. May God give us grace to see the glory of Christ in His mercy, and to respond not with rage, but with worship.