18. Jesus of Nazareth: An Unlikely and Unflappable Savior
18
JESUS OF NAZARETH
An Unlikely and Unflappable Savior
I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.
John 15:5 (KJV)
Here is a sermon in song. Jesus was a poet. His words easily vibrate in the vocal chords and realize their rhyme and rhythm in all languages and cultures. A man for all seasons, he speaks to both kings and commoners. Complex concepts are unraveled and rendered approachable even as simple notions soar on literary wings. For English speakers his poetry is seamlessly captured in the King James tongue. “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”[1]
Who else besides Jesus could call our attention to a simple wildflower and remind us of its most exquisite beauty, while at the same time downplaying all the wealth that money can buy? Jesus, the poet, was not impressed with the Solomons of this world. He recognized beauty in ordinary objects. But beauty is often offset by worldly cares and hardship. Jesus understood and offered solace: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”[2] Here Jesus is down-to-earth—labor, laden, yoke, burden. His parables, a form of his poetry, were also earthy. One single sheep out of the large flock has gone missing. Jesus turns his attention from the ninety-nine to the one that is lost—a parable that easily finds its way into song lyrics.
Even the mundane fact that Jesus had no earthly home was transformed into poetic lines: “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”[3] At the same time, a notion so lofty as heaven is brought down to earth: a dwelling place filled with mansions—not, however, mansions to be equated with Solomon’s lavish living quarters, but dwelling places for Jesus and his followers.
Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.[4]
The poetic phrases are not all words of comfort. In fact, in describing hell Jesus rivals the great poet John Milton: “Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.” In fact, that phrase is repeated three times in the King James Version.[5]
Though spare with words, Jesus is not afraid of repetition. For him, rhythm and repetition are an essential means of communication. Blessed are the . . . Blessed are the . . . serve as a foundation for the Sermon on the Mount. But Jesus does not offer only blessings in repetitive form. In addressing the Pharisees he uses repetition for seven curses: Woe unto you . . . Other repetitive phrases are: You have heard it said . . . but I say unto you . . . and The kingdom of heaven is like . . .
Much of Jesus’ poetic language is drawn from Old Testament stories and the Psalms. In fact, in some respects Jesus steps straight out of the Old Testament. His family tree, beginning with Abraham, presents a litany of household names: patriarchs, prophets, priests, and kings. Also featured in the family tree are unforgettable Old Testament women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba. Jesus matter-of-factly references the Hebrew Bible to make analogies with his own life and ministry: Moses lifting the serpent in the wilderness, Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, Elisha and the healing of Naaman, Jonah and his three days in the belly of a big fish. These were more than historical figures. They were the very ones who, like John the Baptist, paved the way for his ministry.
Indeed, the words of the Hebrew Bible easily flow from the tongue of Jesus. Drawing from the poetry of Isaiah, Jesus inaugurates his ministry with a short, crisp mission statement.
The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.[6]
Perhaps even more significant are his words on the cross, taken from the psalmist: “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”[7]
Who is this Jesus? John the Baptist, Mary, and the disciples themselves pondered this question more than once. Theologians continue to dispute the matter to the present day. The biblical text itself does not offer easy answers. Indeed, the Jesus of the Gospels comes across as much more human than divine, an ordinary Palestinian first-century Jew. A man of miracles, to be sure; but he appears to be anything but a mystical god whose habitation is an ethereal, heavenly realm. He eats and sleeps and weeps like ordinary individuals. Even the accounts of his incredible miracles and astounding resurrection exhibit ordinary humanity.
Throughout his ministry Jesus is approachable, hardly a stuffy holy man. In fact, he would not necessarily have resonated with those who have longed in the generations since to be so Christlike. He had a common touch and a lively personality—a natural way with people that is not easily associated with God. For people who encountered him, Jesus was simply Jesus. Most of the time he was not consumed with feeding five thousand or walking on water or being transfigured. He never boasted of his virgin birth or being the second person in the Trinity.
His reputation, rather, was that of a rabble-rouser—a religious lawbreaker. He dined with sinners; he broke the Sabbath; he railed against Pharisees; he championed the poor; he chided male chauvinists. He was edgy—not always really nice, as we might expect the Son of God to be. The words gentle, meek, and mild in many instances simply do not apply. He cursed a barren fig tree. He deliberately provoked the gushing hometown crowd in the Nazareth synagogue—indeed, so much so that they ran him out of the village. He appeared to be a less-than-adoring son when his mother showed up at the edge of a crowd, and his reference to dogs might have easily been taken as a rude insult by the Syrophoenician woman. Likewise, he spoke harsh and unnerving words about bringing to earth a sword instead of peace.
Jesus was not politically correct. He called the shots as he saw them, with no apologies. His followers through the centuries, however, have too often sought to apologize for him by making excuses for his actions or weakening his words. Jesus needs no apologies. A virgin-born Galilean, he was crucified, dead, buried, and resurrected from the grave. Along the way, he lived a uniquely authentic and inspiring life.
Jesus of Nazareth: Son of Mary, Son of God
In his short life of little more than thirty years, he changed the course of history, though his profound influence would not be recognized until long after his death. His divine identity disguised, he lived and died and went about his daily routine, appearing most of the time to be altogether ordinary. Walking the dusty roads of Galilee, he would easily have been mistaken for just another first-century rabbi. There was nothing about him that initially made him stand out in a crowd. In Nazareth he had been one of the boys, a carpenter’s son. That he had been conceived of a virgin was something of which he and others seemed oblivious. Indeed, at no point did he speak of his auspicious beginning. Nor did he tout his miracles. Unlike many divine healers then and now, he often admonished the cured individual to tell no one. When he fed five thousand, there was surely no chest beating on his part.
Yet his three-year ministry—and the aftermath—would make a larger footprint on the planet than that of anyone else in history. What is so different about Jesus? That question is answered at his baptism. He is the very Son of God.
That the Son of God would be born in a stable (or cave) where animals are sheltered sets the stage for the years to follow. He essentially lives a life of obscurity for three decades, from infancy until the time his ministry begins. After his circumcision and presentation at the Temple, the only details specified about him relate to brief episodes involving his parents. The first is the flight to Egypt, a relocation meant to protect him from the evil designs of King Herod.
The second incident occurs a decade later. Jesus is with his parents in Jerusalem for the Passover. As teeming crowds are milling around in the streets, he becomes absorbed with the discourse of the religious leaders in the Temple. This episode is most telling. At twelve he is coming into his own. He does not have to hold hands with his mother any longer. While other boys his age are sneaking around behind the market stalls or eyeing the girls, he heads for the Temple. So self-assured is he that he sits among the rabbis and asks questions.
But when the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law.
Galatians 4:4 (KJV)
The rabbis, for their part, are impressed with the youngster. He has an amazing grasp of concepts they themselves contemplate and debate. What an incredible scene this is. A youth, long before the bar mitzvah will become a Jewish tradition, is conversing with scholars and challenging their thinking.
His parents, when they finally find him after having been a day’s journey out of Jerusalem, are not amused. In fact, his mother is downright annoyed. They have been worried sick about him, and he is not even apologizing. Rather, he acts bewildered: “Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you know that I had to be here, dealing with the things of my Father?”[8]
Everyday Life
Roman Power and Puppet Rulers
Jesus lived in momentous times. The Mediterranean world seemed then like the center of the universe. Only decades before his birth, Mark Antony and Cleopatra flaunted a very public romance and reigned in glory over their respective realms. The wealth of Egypt under Cleopatra was the envy of the known world. Only a few years earlier the famed Julius Caesar reigned supreme over the Roman Empire, which stretched from northern Italy to the Black Sea. For the rich and famous, it was a magnificent time to be alive—unless life was cut short by scheming adversaries.
Of all the rulers of this era, King Herod the Great, however, wielded the most direct influence over the Jews of Palestine. He was loyal to Rome and Mark Antony, but after Antony’s downfall, he easily changed loyalties. A one-time practicing Jew, he was despised by most Jews for his concessions to Rome and his evil ways. Indeed, his tag the Great was a label Jews deeply resented. He was both a murderer and a madman—a madman who ordered the execution of rabbis and his own relatives.
The most infamous execution order associated with Herod was that which singled out baby boys. Always fearful of rivals, Herod was willing to stoop to pure evil to prevent the possibility of a Messianic king who would threaten his rule. The birth of Jesus coincided with a terrifying political time in history.
How Jesus spends most of the next two decades is not disclosed. He no doubt studies the Torah and travels to Jerusalem every year for the Passover. On a day-to-day basis, however, he may have worked as a builder alongside his father—though it is noteworthy that few of his later parables are drawn from the building trades.
The first public event of Jesus’ life is his baptism. He simply shows up one day with no fanfare at the Jordan River, where John is baptizing. At that time John was drawing large crowds. Did Jesus just get in line to wait his turn? When John sees him, he is taken aback. How can he baptize Jesus? That would suggest some sort of preeminence. Moreover, John’s baptism connotes repentance. But Jesus insists.
So John immerses him in the waters of the Jordan River. In this moment, Jesus is both baptized and anointed by God for ministry. As he comes out of the water, he sees and hears God’s confirmation. The Spirit in the form of a dove alights upon him, and God speaks: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”[9]
A baptism is a special day, to be marked on a calendar or on a certificate. For Jesus the day is far more than just baptism, however. He now understands that God the Father is behind everything that is happening. The Holy Spirit is empowering him. But before he even opens his mouth to preach, he comes to grips with a feeling of utter abandonment.
He is led by the Spirit into the untamed wilderness. This might seem like a normal way of life for John, but surely not for Jesus. Where is the Father in this desolate desert? he must have asked. He is alone but for wild animals, fasting for forty days and forty long, dreary, dark nights. He is desperately hungry, his stomach hollow. While he is in this famished state, the devil toys with him. If he is really the Son of God, he ought to be able to turn the rocks into loaves of bread. The devil is right. Jesus could do just that, but he doesn’t bite. There is a lot more to living than mere bread, he retorts.
So the devil pursues another tactic. He leads Jesus to a high overlook and points to the many political realms spread out before them. They are all ruled in splendor, and Jesus could be the one reigning over all of them. All he would have to do to enjoy this kind of power and prestige is to bow down and worship the devil. Jesus responds by quoting Scripture: One must worship God alone.
Finally, the devil leads Jesus out of the wilderness into Jerusalem, to the very peak of the Temple. The devil tells him to jump off in order to prove he’s God’s Son. It’s no risk. Surely angels would catch him. Jesus responds forcefully, staring the devil down: “Don’t you dare tempt the Lord your God.”[10] With that the ordeal has ended. Jesus returns to Galilee, now prepared to enter his ministry, fully empowered by the Spirit.
Soon Jesus is back along the bank of the Jordan River, where John continues his ministry of preaching and baptizing. John, true to his calling, points people to Jesus—even his own disciples. Among those is Andrew, who switches teams and follows Jesus. He and another disciple go to where Jesus lives and stay on for a day, no doubt talking things over. They are facing a big decision. Andrew is convinced, and he leaves to find his brother Simon, telling him, “We’ve found the Messiah.”[11] So Simon Peter also joins this tiny band.
If Peter and Andrew have any misgivings about their decisions to follow Jesus, their commitment is soon confirmed. They go with Jesus to a wedding in Cana, where they witness his first miracle. For Jesus this miracle, at least from a human standpoint, is a matter of testing the waters. Does he experience any fear or sense of uncertainty when he instructs the servants to fill the wine jugs with water? And then he tells them, without so much as tasting it, to offer it first to the wedding host. This is truly astounding. Water? If this miracle had gone wrong, what a humiliating episode it would have been—far worse than no attempted miracle at all.
As it turns out, the host raves about the delightful taste, surprised that the best wine has been left until last. Having been convinced by the miracle, “his disciples believed in him.”[12] That factor for Jesus is no doubt of far greater consequence than saving a household from embarrassment.
From Cana, Jesus goes to Capernaum, his mother, brothers, and disciples still with him. Then he moves on to Jerusalem for the Passover feast. Here he encounters Nicodemus, a Pharisee who sits on the Jewish ruling council. He is a secret believer who seeks out Jesus in the dead of night, whose questioning prompts Jesus to respond with his most memorable minisermon—John 3:16 (KJV): “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
Jesus at the Wedding in Cana
Jesus then returns to the Jordan with his newly acquired disciples and begins a ministry of baptism himself, though his disciples do the actual baptizing. But then rumors start flying that Jesus is competing with John and that he is now surpassing John in the number of baptisms. This is not at all what Jesus has in mind, so he leaves the region and returns to Galilee.
On the way, he is traveling through Samaria with some of his disciples. They stop at a well just outside the town of Sychar at noon. The disciples go into town to purchase lunch while Jesus remains at the well. As he waits, a woman approaches. Jesus asks her for water. His request leads to a prolonged conversation. When the disciples return, they are mortified that Jesus is talking to a stranger—a woman, no less. And not just a woman, but that kind of woman. They don’t say anything, but they surely think it odd that he would carry on in such an inappropriate manner, little realizing that this encounter will lead to a revival in Sychar.
After this episode the disciples seem to just wander off and go back to their daily routine. Then one day Jesus is walking along the Sea of Galilee. He sees Simon Peter and Andrew busy with their fishing business. He watches as they cast their nets into the lake. They’re good at what they do. But there is more important work to be done. Without small talk, Jesus tells them to come along with him. He will show them how to fish for people. They make no excuses nor even take time to tend to their nets. They know he means business, and they follow.
Not until sometime later does Jesus officially name the ones who will become known as the Twelve Apostles. In the meantime he moves from place to place in Galilee with his disciples and many more hangers-on. His most public ministry involves healing people physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Among those healed are Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, a leper, and a paralytic man. He casts a demon out of a man, and he transforms the tax collector Matthew (also known as Levi) into a disciple.
After this, Jesus went out and saw a tax collector by the name of Levi sitting at his tax booth. “Follow me,” Jesus said to him, and Levi got up, left everything and followed him.
Then Levi held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?”
Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”
At this point Jesus is keeping a low profile. When he cures the leper, he specifically tells him not to go around telling everyone. He instructs the leper to present himself to the priest just for the record and to thank God for the healing, but otherwise to keep it to himself. But word gets out. More come to be healed, and the curious and the paparazzi are eager to get in on the action.
Like all practicing Jews, Jesus makes the annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Passover. Here the critics are more numerous. When he heals a paralyzed man on the Sabbath at the pool of Bethesda, he quickly slips into the crowd. He knows the keepers of the law will be on his case. When they do find him and try to nail him for Sabbath breaking, he for the first time declares to them that he is the Son of God. Now he’s really stepped over the line. Sabbath breaking is one thing, but this is blasphemy. They are now conspiring to kill him.
But Jesus continues his public ministry, ever aware that he is under the watchful eyes of the Pharisees. As the crowds grow larger, the verbal attacks increase. Yet there are those who are willing to join him in ministry, going out on their own in pairs to work the same miracles he is known for. Escaping the crowds, Jesus goes to a mountain to pray and then calls the Twelve to join him and appoints them his apostles.
When he descends the mountain, he is joined by many more disciples who have for some time been in his company. Word quickly spreads that he is about to begin teaching. Indeed, without any form of social media other than word of mouth, flash crowds materialize almost spontaneously. People are coming from Jerusalem and all over Judea, and even as far away as the coastal towns of Tyre and Sidon. They are mostly curiosity seekers and those seeking a cure.
They crowd around, pushing in from all sides, and listen to the longest address he will ever deliver—what becomes known as the Sermon on the Mount. What he preaches is no less than radical. He is offering them a revolutionary way of living that emphasizes love over rigid observance of the law.
Amid the pushing and shoving and crying babies, the onlookers may not have heard all he had to say. But even if they catch only a few sentences, they know that his words are like nothing they have heard before:
Love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer for that person. If someone slaps you in the face, stand there and take it. If someone grabs your shirt, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. If someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.
Here is a simple rule of thumb for behavior: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you; then grab the initiative and do it for them! If you only love the lovable, do you expect a pat on the back? Run-of-the-mill sinners do that. If you only help those who help you, do you expect a medal? Garden-variety sinners do that. If you only give for what you hope to get out of it, do you think that’s charity? The stingiest of pawnbrokers does that.
I tell you, love your enemies. Help and give without expecting a return.[13]
After delivering this most profound sermon, Jesus is on the road again, throngs of people following along. On his way into Capernaum, some Jewish leaders rush out to meet him, pleading for him to come immediately. A young man is critically ill. He is the faithful servant to the local Roman captain, a man who has bent over backwards to help the Jews. Now, with a miracle, they want to repay his kindness.
Jesus is glad to accommodate them, but before he arrives, friends of the captain approach, saying he need not come any farther. The captain, they say, is embarrassed to be in the company of a holy man like Jesus. He knows that Jesus can heal if he just gives the command. Why not? If the captain’s orders to his soldiers are heeded without question, why wouldn’t Jesus’ words have the same effect? Jesus gives the command, and the young man is healed. Then turning to the crowd, he acknowledges the captain’s faith as greater than anything he’s ever witnessed among the Jews.
Jesus and his disciples move on to the hamlet of Nain. As they are coming into town, they hear the loud weeping of mourners who are carrying a coffin outside the city gates for burial. When Jesus learns that the young man who has just died is the only son of a widow, he feels great compassion. Then he performs his most spectacular miracle to date. After comforting the mother, he puts his hand on the coffin, and the son springs back to life.
Soon after this, Jesus visits Capernaum again. Here he is entertained at the home of a Pharisee. He and the invited guests have just begun to eat when a local prostitute barges in, goes straight to Jesus, and spills expensive perfume on his feet. Jesus takes it in stride, but the host is shocked—even more by what happens next. The woman lets her hair down and kneels before Jesus. Weeping, she kisses his feet and dries them with her hair. What a low-down circus this is, the Pharisee is thinking. How could Jesus possibly be a prophet and not know that this sleazy woman is embarrassing everyone in the room.
Jesus, however, regards the incident very differently. After affirming what the woman has done, he forgives her sins, telling her that her faith has saved her and that she can go in peace. Those words surely do not ease the tension. But so it is with Jesus’ ministry—always drawing controversy with the prevailing orthodoxy.
Word of Jesus’ teaching spreads, and the crowds increase, often numbering in the thousands. Miracles draw the multitudes. But are they sincere disciples or merely fickle curiosity seekers? Only time will tell. At this point, Jesus’ teaching begins to shift and takes the form of parables. Even the Twelve, however, have trouble comprehending their hidden meanings, though with prodding Jesus unravels the mysteries. But straight talk is Jesus’ forte. He does not mince words on moral values regarding money, divorce, honesty, hard work, loving one’s enemies, caring for the poor, and healing the sick.
Most of Jesus’ miracles have involved individuals who have suffered some sort of malady. But when he is in a boat with his disciples on the Sea of Galilee, he takes on nature itself. A sudden squall comes up while he is napping in the stern. The disciples fear the boat will capsize out in the middle of the lake. They awaken Jesus, pleading for help. He rebukes them—and also the wind and the waves.
Again the disciples are out in a boat when a storm arises, this time late at night. Struggling amid the waves, they see a mysterious figure walking toward them on the water. They are terrified, thinking they’ve seen a ghost. It turns out to be none other than Jesus himself, who tells them not to fear. When Peter attempts to walk out and meet him, he sinks and Jesus rescues him, chiding him for his lack of faith. When they are back in the boat, the rolling waves are calmed.
Another encounter with nature occurs when Jesus casts demons out of two severely disturbed men—casts them directly into a herd of swine. The pigs run pell-mell over a cliff into the sea and drown. The owners and their neighbors are upset about the loss and order Jesus out of the region.
The focus of Jesus’ ministry, however, is less on making the winds and waves and pigs obey than on ministering to those who are marginalized. He heals the blind and mute and even an unclean woman with severe menstrual bleeding. To serve the needs of more people, he commissions his disciples and gives them authority to cast out demons and heal the sick.
At certain times Jesus manages to escape from everyone just to be alone. One such occasion is when he hears John the Baptist has been beheaded. Poor John. What a terrifying moment this must have been for him—the very anguish and dread that Jesus himself is facing. He is alone for these moments of privacy to process his grief and pray. But someone has spotted him. Word quickly gets out, and soon whole villages are vacated as people trek off to find him.
He might have cursed at the sight of them. But he doesn’t. He has compassion. He spends the next hours healing the sick. Both he and the people lose track of time—though not the disciples. They are fully cognizant of being out in the middle of nowhere, and they want Jesus to send the people home for their evening meals. Jesus responds to their irritation by telling them to feed the crowd. What? He can’t be serious. There are some five thousand people milling around, and there’s nowhere to purchase food even if they had the money. There is a boy, however, with a bag lunch—five little loaves and two dinky fish.
This is obviously not a major setback for Jesus. Whether making wine from water or calming waves or curing cancer, he is onto it. He blesses the bag lunch and gives the contents to the disciples. As they distribute the meager meal, it miraculously multiplies—enough to feed a crowd of more than five thousand.
As the popularity of Jesus soars and his fame spreads, opposition becomes more hardened. Conspiracies are afoot, and rumors fly: this man must be taken out. He is deemed a threat in both political and religious sectors. But ordinary people are captivated by him, perhaps a miracle-working Elijah come back to life.
When Jesus asks the disciples who he is, Peter nails it—he is the Messiah, the Son of God. Jesus blesses Peter for the answer, but tells the disciples to keep it quiet. The disciples assume that Jesus as Messiah will soon be reigning over Israel, and they along with him. But he soundly puts that pipe dream to rest. His reign will not be as an earthly king. He will reign in heaven. Before then he will be killed. That will not be the end, however. He will rise from the dead on the third day and be with them again. Peter is incredulous. He insists that this must not happen. Jesus, however, is ruthless in his response: Get behind me, Satan.
On another occasion Jesus invites his inner circle—Peter, James, and John—to join him on a hike up a mountain. Perhaps thinking they will be sitting down for an intimate conversation, the disciples are treated to something far more spectacular. Before their very eyes, Jesus is transfigured, becoming translucent, with light filling his entire being. Then he is joined by Moses and Elijah, and the three of them begin talking. Hardly does Peter blurt out a proposal to build them shelters when the three figures are engulfed in a cloud. God speaks from heaven signifying Jesus as his Son. The disciples fall down and worship, and it’s all over as suddenly as it has begun.
As they are descending the mountain, Jesus tells them to keep this experience to themselves—at least until he has risen from the dead. After this eye-popping incident, Jesus carries on with his teaching ministry.
Next to the Sermon on the Mount, the parables of the good Samaritan and the prodigal son are Jesus’ grandest moments of teaching. As he is speaking about loving one’s neighbor, someone in the crowd asks him to define the term neighbor. So Jesus tells a story of a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho who is attacked by thugs who steal his clothes. A priest happens by, but he ignores the severely injured, naked man. A Levite does the same. But a Samaritan simply does what comes naturally. He helps the man onto his own donkey, takes him to an inn, and pays for his care. Which one, Jesus asks, is a neighbor? If the answer seems like a no-brainer to a modern-day reader, it was not to his Jewish listeners, who despised Samaritans.
The story of the prodigal son is equally provocative. A man has two sons. The younger demands his inheritance so that he can leave home and make a life for himself. The father gives him his share, and the boy heads off to a faraway land. But rather than buying a home or investing his money in the market, he squanders it. In fact, he goes broke—in the midst of a famine, no less. His only means of survival is hiring himself out to feed hogs, a filthy and demeaning job that pays so little he is forced to sleep and eat with the very creatures he feeds. How he wishes he had never left home. Then it occurs to him to return home and ask for menial work as a mere field hand, which would offer him a much better lifestyle than he now has.
As he approaches his father’s estate, he sees his father, wild with excitement, coming to welcome him home with open arms. No fieldwork for him; rather a homecoming bash. It is a time for celebration. A lost son has been found. The older brother, however, is not joining in the festivities. Why should he? He did the wise and honorable thing. He stayed put and didn’t squander his money. And for that, why doesn’t his father throw him a party? This, Jesus explains, is how God welcomes home a lost sinner.
These stories are classics in the making. Is it any wonder the crowds are captivated?
Jesus is a people person. He loves telling stories and engaging his audience. He needs downtime, however, and for that he slips away to pray or to talk with his disciples alone. On other occasions he visits friends, most notably Mary and Martha of Bethany and their brother Lazarus, whom Jesus later miraculously brings back to life after a fatal illness.
Zacchaeus sees Jesus
In some instances, Jesus singles out individuals for special treatment. Zacchaeus is a case in point. Jesus is surrounded by a large crowd as he is making his way through Jericho. People are begging to be healed, and religious leaders are clamoring to have their questions answered. In the midst of all the commotion, Jesus looks up and sees a man perched on a branch in a sycamore tree.
Jesus intuitively knows that this man, short of stature, has run ahead trying to get a spot in front of the crowd, but with no success. So he climbs up in a tree just to get a look. He’s an important man about town—in charge of collecting taxes for the Romans—and it probably seems odd to ordinary citizens that he’s up in a tree, considering his status. Most of them, however, would not even have noticed amid all the commotion.
But Jesus looks him straight in the eye, calls him by name, and tells him to climb out of the tree because he’s coming to his house for the afternoon meal. Zacchaeus is thrilled. The locals are not. Why would Jesus give special recognition to a big-time cheat—a tax collector? But Jesus has his reasons. He sees right through the man. In fact, Zacchaeus’s first words are an admission of his guilt, with the promise to give away half his income to the poor and to pay four times over to those he has cheated. Jesus recognizes his sincerity and affirms his commitment.
For other individuals with whom Jesus interacts along the way, the outcome is not so affirming. Such is the case with a young man—a wealthy government official—who seeks Jesus out. He asks what he must do to gain eternal life. Jesus points to the commandments. He counters that he keeps all of them. But Jesus goes on to the matter of discipleship. Is the young man willing to follow him? That will mean disposing of his wealth and giving it to the poor. The cost of discipleship is too high. The young man leaves, sober and sad.
Jesus does not warn the rich young ruler of the fires of hell, as he might have done when asked about gaining eternal life. On other occasions he does not mince words.
As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. . . . Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left. . . . He will cut him to pieces and assign him a place with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. . . . Then he will say to those on his left, “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”[14]
The cost of discipleship is more than giving all one’s possessions to the poor. That will become very clear to Jesus’ disciples in the weeks that follow, when their commitment to him will be severely tested.
Having moved from one town to another, Jesus heads back to Jerusalem for the upcoming Passover feast. As usual, the streets are teeming with people. The disciples, on Jesus’ instructions, have arranged for him to ride on a colt, and as he enters the city, the people on the parade route wave palm branches and throw down a carpet of coats in front of him. They shout hosanna and hail him as their Messiah, Son of David.
The Pharisees are in a dither, demanding that the disciples organize some kind of crowd control. But for all those close to Jesus this is a glorious day. They ignore the words he had spoken concerning his death. They are in denial.
This scene of joyous acclamation is quickly reversed when Jesus arrives at the Temple. There he observes merchants and money changers, their booths and tables set up for business. People are milling around, dickering for bargains. Jesus sees what is going on and is livid. He barges through the crowd, knocks over the tables, scatters the merchandise, and shouts out that God’s house must not be turned into a den of thieves. The onlookers are too stunned to react.
The religious leaders, however, are up in arms. How dare Jesus stride in from Galilee and take over the Temple. From their perspective, he is a devious and dangerous man who must be eliminated. They are plotting against him even as he carries on with his teaching. He well knows that his days and his very words are numbered.
On the day of the Passover feast, the disciples prepare the meal at a home in Jerusalem. Late in the day, when Jesus and the disciples are eating and talking together around the table, Jesus gets up, fills a basin with water, and begins washing his disciples’ feet. It is a fitting demonstration of servant ministry.
At this point Jesus drops the bombshell. One of you, he tells them, will betray me—hand me over to the enemy. The disciples are flabbergasted. They know each other; they’ve traveled and eaten and lived together. How can this be true? The whole thing is preposterous. They wonder aloud if one of them is that one. Jesus responds that he will signify who it is by giving that person a piece of bread dipped in wine. All of them but Judas remain bewildered. Judas takes the bread and goes out into the night.
In the hours that follow, Jesus continues to teach his disciples, offering them his final testament. His words are specifically for them, but they will ring in the ears of believers down through the centuries:
Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. . . . I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. . . .These things I have spoken to you while being present with you. But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you. Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.[15]
After the Passover meal ends and his teaching has come to a conclusion, Jesus offers a prayer for his followers—that they might fully realize a spirit of unity among each other. They sing a hymn, and then he goes out into the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. He knows his time is very short. One day hence, it will be all over. He loves life and doesn’t want to die—surely not an agonizing, shameful death of a criminal. He pleads with God to spare him the terrible suffering. He is weeping now—even as his three closest disciples fall asleep. How can they be so indifferent? They sleep on.
Then out of the blackness of the night Judas appears. With him are religious leaders, some of them with swords. Jesus knows exactly what Judas is up to. As Jesus is about to be arrested, Peter wakes up in a panic, pulls out a sword, and cuts off the ear of the high priest’s servant. Jesus, with little ado, reattaches it.
The disciples scatter as Jesus is taken to stand before the chief priest, Caiaphas, where he is roughed up and accused of blasphemy—claiming to be the Messiah and the Son of Man, who will soon be seated at the right hand of God. This creates an uproar. How dare he make such claims? By the Jewish leaders’ calculations, he has condemned himself. They have no choice but to sentence him to death.
The next morning Jesus is brought before Pilate, the Roman governor. Pilate wants nothing to do with this religious dispute. He tells the Jewish leaders to deal with him under their own law. The fact is they had already done that by condemning him to death, but they did not have the authority to execute him, and that is precisely what they want.
So Pilate grudgingly summons Jesus to stand before him. He questions Jesus about claiming to be the king of the Jews. Jesus tells him that his kingship is not of this world, but rather a heavenly one. Pilate doesn’t get it. So he asks the question again. He wants to know if Jesus is claiming to be the king of the Jews. Jesus responds in the affirmative, adding that he has been sent as a witness to the truth and that anyone who is concerned about truth will recognize who he is.
Whether sincere or cynical, Pilate then asks the ultimate question: What is truth?
But above all else, Pilate is pragmatic. He is convinced that Jesus has committed no crime and suggests that he be the one given the customary Passover pardon.
The religious leaders, however, insist that Barabbas, not Jesus, be granted the pardon. So Pilate orders that Jesus be whipped. Then soldiers dress him in a purple robe and a crown of thorns, mocking him all the while as King of the Jews. Pilate appears again and reiterates his earlier position—that Jesus is not guilty of any criminal activities. But in the end Pilate washes his hands before all the people, symbolically demonstrating that he will have no blood on his conscience.
When Jesus is brought outside, a roar goes up from the mob, Crucify him! This is the crowd—the same fickle crowd—that sang hosanna and hailed him king only days earlier. So, with no legal recourse, Jesus is taken away to face the most scornful and cruel death—crucifixion. He is forced to carry his own cross to Golgotha, also called Skull Hill. At one point he stumbles beneath the weight, and Simon of Cyrene is ordered to lug it the rest of the way.
When they arrive at the destination, the place of the skull, he is crucified between two thieves; one thief rebukes the other for mocking Jesus and is rewarded with the promise of immediate paradise with Jesus. Roman soldiers wager on his coat, winner takes all. Jesus looks at them in pity amid his agony and then says “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”[16]
Jesus on the road to Calvary
At the foot of the cross, blinded by grief, are loved ones, including Jesus’ mother, Mary Magdalene, and John, whom Jesus commissions to be a son to his mother. When Jesus tells them he is thirsty, they bring him vinegar wine. All the while soldiers and passersby are mocking, saying that if he is truly the Son of God and can save others, he ought to be able to save himself.
By noon the sky has become as black as midnight and remains that way until midafternoon. Then Jesus groans from the depths of his being, calling out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”[17]
Soon thereafter Jesus cries out again very loudly, and then in a horrifying moment he is dead. At the very same time the curtain in the Temple splits down the middle into two pieces. There is also an earthquake, at which time the graves are opened and people—some of whom have been long dead—begin walking out of their tombs. What a stunning turn of events this is. Surely this, more than the crucifixion of Jesus, should have grabbed the headlines of the Jerusalem Daily News.
In the meantime, Jesus is taken off the cross. Joseph of Arimathea, an undercover disciple, asks if he can bury the body in his garden tomb, where no one previously had been buried. The body is wrapped in linen with spices added, as was the custom of the day. The tomb is tightly sealed and placed under heavy guard. Jesus is now in Paradise.
But two days later, on the first day of the week, he is just outside the tomb, mistaken for a gardener by Mary Magdalene. He asks her why she is weeping, and she does not even recognize him. But when he says her name—Mary—she knows in an instant it is he. Teacher, she cries, starting to embrace him. He asks her not to cling to him because he has not yet ascended into heaven.
Several hours later as Jesus’ frightened disciples and some of his followers are meeting clandestinely in a private, dimly lit, locked room, Jesus suddenly enters right through the closed door. He stands around engaging in small talk for a short time, showing them the scars on his hands and side. Then he blesses them and leaves.
Later in the day two of Jesus’ followers are walking to the little hamlet of Emmaus several miles outside of Jerusalem. They are deep in discussion about the events that have just taken place when all of a sudden Jesus begins walking beside them. He asks them what they are so solemnly talking about. They are surprised that he doesn’t know. Hasn’t he heard all the goings-on about Jesus in the past few days?
At their request Jesus joins them for a meal. When he breaks the bread and blesses it, they recognize him. But in that instant he is gone. They return to Jerusalem and find the other disciples to inform them. While they are narrating the story, Jesus appears to the whole group. He again shows his scars, and this time eats some fish.
After this Jesus appears to a crowd of more than one hundred people. That Jesus had performed mighty miracles during his lifetime should have been enough to clarify his identity. But his postresurrection appearances are the clincher, and this would not be the last. Sometime later, Peter and some of the other disciples are back on the Sea of Galilee fishing. They have been out all night but have caught nothing. Now it’s morning and they are nearing shore. With no warning, Jesus walks by, asking if they have caught anything. Knowing it has not been a profitable night for them, he instructs them to throw the net out on the other side of the boat. They do, and they can hardly haul in the heavy net full of fish. When they realize it is Jesus, they join him for breakfast on the beach.
Later Jesus appears again to the apostles. This time in Galilee, on a mountain where he promised to meet them. Even though they have seen him before, they can hardly contain themselves, some falling down in worship before him. Here he commissions them all to go out and carry the gospel to all nations. “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”[18]
Jesus appears one last time to his disciples. On this occasion they interact with him, asking him questions, particularly about setting up his kingdom on earth. When will this happen? they want to know. He tells them the timing is something they cannot know. What they do need to know is that soon the Holy Spirit will come upon them and that they will be witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
With that final commission, he is carried up into heaven. They are looking up when two angels appear, offering a final tribute to Jesus—one that would ring in their ears as they set out to live by the words he had taught them. “You Galileans!—why do you just stand here looking up at an empty sky? This very Jesus who was taken up from among you to heaven will come as certainly—and mysteriously—as he left.”[19]
Concluding Observations
The only way to conclude an abbreviated biography of Jesus such as this is to quote the apostle John: “Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.”[20] John, of course, was speaking of all the things Jesus did that were not included in his own Gospel account.
John, who knew Jesus so well as boyhood cousin and friend and as his closest confidant among the apostles, surely could have filled up books of his own. But did John or anybody really know Jesus? His mother and Mary Magdalene no doubt had insights the male disciples missed, but did they really know him? The apostle Paul’s deep longing was to know Christ. New Testament scholars and mystics all profess to know Jesus even as those closest to him must have thought they did. But at the end of the day he remains most elusive.
On a surface level our knowledge of Jesus is perhaps best summed up in an old Fanny Crosby hymn I often sang in my childhood. But this skeleton summary of mere words is only transformed into knowing when sung by a choir of voices stretching across time.
Tell me the story of Jesus,
Write on my heart every word.
Tell me the story most precious,
Sweetest that ever was heard.
Tell how the angels in chorus,
Sang as they welcomed His birth.
“Glory to God in the highest!
Peace and good tidings to earth.”
Fasting alone in the desert,
Tell of the days that are past.
How for our sins He was tempted,
Yet was triumphant at last.
Tell of the years of His labor,
Tell of the sorrow He bore.
He was despised and afflicted,
Homeless, rejected and poor.
Tell of the cross where they nailed Him,
Writhing in anguish and pain.
Tell of the grave where they laid Him,
Tell how He liveth again.
Love in that story so tender,
Clearer than ever I see.
Stay, let me weep while you whisper,
Love paid the ransom for me.
Further Reading
Johnson, Paul. Jesus: A Biography from a Believer. New York: Viking, 2010.
Neusner, Jacob. A Rabbi Talks with Jesus. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2000.
Stein, Robert H. Jesus the Messiah: A Survey of the Life of Christ. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1996.
Yancey, Philip. The Jesus I Never Knew. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2002.