Sabbath Restoration and Withering Rage Text: Luke 6:6-11
Introduction: A Tale of Two Sabbaths
We come this morning to another confrontation over the Sabbath. It is essential that we understand that these are not minor skirmishes over religious etiquette. These are worldview battles, fought in the public square, over the most fundamental questions of reality. Who is God? Who is man? What is the law for? And who is in charge here? The Pharisees had an answer to all these questions, and their answer was a brittle, soul-crushing system of traditions that had encrusted the law of God like barnacles on a ship's hull. Jesus Christ came with a different answer, and His answer was Himself.
The Sabbath, as given by God, was a gift. It was a day of rest, of worship, of delight. It was a sign of the covenant, a weekly reminder that God had created the world and that He had redeemed His people. It was a taste of heaven. But the Pharisees, in their zeal to build a hedge around the law, had turned this gift into a straitjacket. They had transformed a day of liberation into a day of litigation. Their Sabbath was a minefield of petty regulations, a day for catching people in the wrong, a day of spiritual paralysis. It was, in short, a withered Sabbath.
And so, it is entirely fitting that on this withered Sabbath, in the synagogue, Jesus confronts a man with a withered hand. The man's physical condition was a perfect outward picture of the Pharisees' spiritual condition. They were shriveled in their souls, unable to extend the hand of mercy, paralyzed by their own traditions. Jesus, by healing the man, is not simply performing a miracle. He is making a profound theological statement. He is declaring that He has come to restore what has withered, to make whole what is broken, and to reclaim the Sabbath for its true purpose: to do good, to save life, and to glorify God.
This is a public showdown. The trap is set, the audience is watching, and the lines are drawn. What Jesus does here will expose the murderous heart of legalism and reveal His own identity as the Lord of the Sabbath, the one who has authority not only to heal a hand, but to define the very law of God.
The Text
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. 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. 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. 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?” And after looking around at them all, He said to him, “Stretch out your hand!” And he did so, and his hand was restored. But they themselves were filled with rage, and were discussing together what they might do to Jesus.
(Luke 6:6-11 LSB)
The Setup: A Public Trap (vv. 6-7)
We begin with the scene being set for this divine confrontation.
"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. 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." (Luke 6:6-7)
Jesus is in His Father's house on His Father's day, doing what He always does, teaching the Word of God. This is His custom. But the religious authorities are not there to learn. They are there to litigate. They are not students; they are spies. They are "watching Him closely," the Greek word suggesting an intense, malicious scrutiny. They are hunting for a violation, not seeking salvation.
Notice the object of their attention: a man with a withered right hand. The right hand, in Scripture, is the hand of strength, of blessing, of action. A withered right hand meant weakness, incapacity, and shame. This man was, in a very real sense, half a man. He was unable to work effectively, unable to offer a full sacrifice. He was a living picture of impotence. And yet, the Pharisees do not see a man in need of compassion. They see bait. They see an opportunity to trap Jesus.
Their entire system was built on defining what constituted "work" on the Sabbath. Their oral traditions had spun a complex web of regulations, forbidding actions like tying a knot, writing two letters, or, in their view, performing a medical procedure that was not life-threatening. By their twisted logic, healing this man would be considered work. They have weaponized the law of God, turning a command for rest into a pretext for accusation. This is the essence of legalism. Legalism is not about being zealous for God's law; it is about using a distorted version of God's law to control others and exalt oneself.
The Counter-Move: Jesus Seizes the Pulpit (vv. 8-9)
Jesus, being God, does not need to be told what they are plotting. He acts on His own initiative, turning their trap into His pulpit.
"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. 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?'" (Luke 6:8-9)
First, "He knew what they were thinking." This is a straightforward declaration of His deity. He is not just a shrewd rabbi; He reads minds because He made minds. He sees the venom in their hearts. Second, He takes control of the situation. He calls the man with the withered hand to the front. He doesn't try to heal him in a corner. He puts the man, and the man's need, center stage. He forces everyone present to look at this man, not as a theological problem, but as a human being made in the image of God.
Then He poses a question that completely reframes the debate. The Pharisees were asking, "Is it lawful to work?" Jesus asks, "Is it lawful to do good?" He blows right past their petty categories and gets to the heart of the law. The law is not a list of arbitrary prohibitions; it is a transcript of the character of God. And God is good. Therefore, the purpose of the law, and the purpose of the Sabbath, must be to promote good. He forces them into a dilemma. To say it is lawful to do harm would be monstrous. To say it is lawful to do good would be to approve of the very miracle they wanted to condemn.
He raises the stakes even further: "to save a life or to destroy it?" Now, this man's life was not in immediate danger. But Jesus is teaching a profound point. To refuse to do good when you have the power to do it is, in fact, to do harm. To leave a man in his brokenness when you could restore him is a form of destruction. James would later echo this: "Therefore, to one who knows the right thing to do and does not do it, to him it is sin" (James 4:17). The Pharisees, in their obsession with preventing "work," were actively participating in the destruction of this man's well-being. Their inaction was a sin. Their silence in the face of Jesus' question is a damning confession.
The Climax: Restoration and Rage (vv. 10-11)
The tension is at its peak. The Pharisees are silent, trapped by their own hypocrisy. Jesus then acts.
"And after looking around at them all, He said to him, 'Stretch out your hand!' And he did so, and his hand was restored. But they themselves were filled with rage, and were discussing together what they might do to Jesus." (Luke 6:10-11)
The look Jesus gives them must have been piercing. It was a look that saw through their pious masks to the seething hatred underneath. Then, He turns to the man. He doesn't perform some elaborate ritual. He simply speaks. "Stretch out your hand!" This command requires faith from the man. He had to attempt to do the one thing he could not do. He had to act on the authority of Christ's word alone. And in his obedience, there is power. "He did so, and his hand was restored." The creative power of the Word is on display. The same voice that said, "Let there be light," now says, "Let there be wholeness."
This is a picture of salvation. God gives us a command we cannot fulfill in our own strength, "Repent and believe," and then He provides the very power to obey that command. The man's stretching and God's healing were simultaneous. So it is with us. We are called to act, and in our acting, we find that God has already acted in us.
Now, what is the response to this glorious act of restoration? Is it wonder? Is it praise? Is it repentance? No. It is rage. "They themselves were filled with rage." The Greek word is anoia, which means folly, mindlessness, a senseless fury. It is the rage of those whose worldview has just been publicly dismantled. Their authority has been challenged, their hypocrisy has been exposed, and their system has been shown to be bankrupt. They saw a man made whole, and it drove them mad.
And what does their rage lead to? Worship? No, conspiracy. They began "discussing together what they might do to Jesus." This is the ultimate indictment of their religion. An act of mercy on the Sabbath led them to plot murder on the Sabbath. In the name of upholding the law, they are preparing to kill the Lawgiver. They have become the very thing Jesus accused them of. While He chose to save a life, they are choosing to destroy one. Their hearts are far more withered than the man's hand ever was.
Conclusion: Whose Sabbath Do You Keep?
This account forces a question upon us. Whose Sabbath do you keep? Do you keep the Pharisees' Sabbath, a day of grim obligation, external performance, and judgmental scrutiny? Is your Christian life a checklist of things you must not do, a constant fear of stepping on a spiritual landmine? That is a religion of withering. It will shrivel your soul and fill you with the same pride and anger that consumed these men.
Or do you keep Christ's Sabbath? The Sabbath He has purchased for us is not a day, but a reality. Jesus Himself is our Sabbath rest (Hebrews 4:9-10). To enter His rest is to cease from our own works, our own attempts to justify ourselves, and to trust entirely in His finished work on the cross. It is a rest that results not in paralysis, but in restoration. It frees our hands, not to be idle, but to do good, to show mercy, and to serve others.
The Lord's Day, the Christian Sabbath, is a weekly celebration of this reality. It is a day to be filled not with rage, but with restoration. It is a day to remember that we were all the man with the withered hand, spiritually impotent and helpless. And Jesus, the Lord of the Sabbath, did not stand by and watch. He knew our thoughts, He called us forward, and by His powerful word, He commanded us to do what we could not do. He told us to live, and we lived.
If you see a brother in need, if you have an opportunity to do good, to bring healing, to show mercy, that is the true keeping of the Sabbath. To refuse to do so, hiding behind some pious excuse, is to side with the Pharisees. But to stretch out your hand in service, empowered by the grace of Christ, is to show that you truly understand the one who is Lord of the Sabbath, and Lord of your life.