Soliloquy

“The Water-Girl”

No one knows who she is. No one has ever seen her. She comes and goes as if searching for something or someone. When she is present her presence is felt, perhaps with fear, and maybe wonder. No one feels comfortable when she is near. And if by chance in passing she brushes against you, startling you into wonderment or dismay, you consider yourself chosen.

She is invisible yet her presence seldom goes unnoticed. Such was the case with me. I was one who never knew about her, or heard about her, yet from time to time I sensed a presence, a nearness of which I could not account. The others with me knew something and feared something. She, the presence, invisible and awesome, brushed against me one night. I hardly noticed it, but when it happened again I wondered if a god has just passed by. I was not afraid of being touched by the unknown. I was curious, inquisitive. I wanted to ask questions, but I was sure no one would have an answer. I simply let it go.

Much later, as I was washing dishes at the kitchen sink I felt the presence again, only this time more powerful, invisible, yet substantial. I did not speak, I did not turn my head, I remained as if nothing had happened, for indeed, nothing had yet happened. The presence was strong, commanding, as if to awaken something in me that would be capable of responding. I questioned in my heart how I could bring the presence into the light, to uncover its secrets and somehow to make it visible. Did I have such a right? Would this be the right thing to do? I could not, dared not, decide.

The presence was manifesting much stronger increasingly, and I knew that I could not ignore it for long. I wondered if it, she, the presence was reaching out to me, and if so, why? A thought suddenly sprung into my mind. Sprinkle water onto the source of the presence and see if there is a reaction. Again I thought that I did not have the right to deny this presence its hiddenness, its secret places. But what if it was beckoning me to do something to reveal it? I decided to follow my idea and sprinkle water on the presence. I was not sure why I wanted to do this, but the idea had suddenly taken hold of me, and it seemed as if I could not abandon it. Turning very slowly as not to alarm the presence, I sprinkled a handful of water onto the place where I sensed it was standing. Immediately, the presence became visible.

She was a young woman at least by appearance, though I could not see her face fully. She was not shielding her face as if caught by surprise. I thought, she is just not accustomed to others seeing her as she is. I left it at that. She spoke without words, still not looking at me directly. I turned slightly away from her, wanting to preserve whatever protocol of privacy she deserved. I responded to her, also without words, and she nodded that she understood. Silence followed briefly, and a heavy sadness enveloped her as if to protect her.

After an eternity had passed, she said, “I am not at home here. Please help me to find my home, or I shall soon perish here.”

Trying to remain as calm as possibly, I replied. “I am sorry you are not at home in my world. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you.” I paused and then added “I shall do my best to help you return to your own home.”

I wanted to reach out, to hold her closely, and shield her against the dangers of my world of which she was so terrified. Instead, “where is your home,” I asked, and she did not reply immediately. When she did reply, perhaps pausing to wonder just how much she may reveal to me, she said, “I am the child of the ocean. I must find the ocean soon, or I will surely perish. I will show you the way.”

“I will take you there now.” I said, and she consented. As it turned out, it was not very far, perhaps not as many as ten kilometers. She had to be carried all the way, for she could not navigate my world. She was a light as feathers, and it was no effort to carry her. For most of the journey we remained silent, the one objective most clearly positioned in our minds, reaching the shore of the ocean as rapidly as possible.

When we arrived I put her down gently upon the beach. The sand was glowing brightly under the stars as if extending a joyful and generous welcome to her. She thanked me for helping her, and asked me to take her into the water. Again I lifted her into my arms and waded waist deep into the water. I lowered her slowly and deliberately, not wanting to disturb the smooth calmness of the ocean. The water itself seemed to open its arms to receive its daughter. Again, she thanked me for rescuing her.

“I shall return to see you,” I said to her, “so you do not abide always alone here.” For the first time she looked at me fully in my face. She was as beautiful a young woman as I had ever seen, a beauty that glowed under the starlight. I was grateful for this sight, which has remained with me ever since.

“I will look for you,” she answered.

“I shall call out to you when I return,” I said. “I will call out from the shore, and if by chance I have a boat, I will sail out into the ocean to find you.”

She waved good-bye, and slipped silently beneath the calm waters.

She was at home, at last.

She dwells in the deep.

She is “The Water-Girl.”

No one has ever seen her.

As for me, I cannot say what I saw. I can only recount a tale of mystery that captured my life one night, a long time ago, in the plain ordinariness of my kitchen. And if by chance a presence brushes against you one day, don’t be afraid.

Thanksgiving Day, 2015

Luke 17: 37 – OF CORPSES AND VULTURES

Luke 17:37 – “Where the body is, there the eagles will gather.” Matthew 24:28 – “Wherever the body is, there the eagles will be gathered together.” Another translation reads, “Where the corpse is, there the vultures will gather.” Arndt-Gingrich thinks “vultures” is the correct translation. The context will probably disclose that this is the most accurate translation. What does this verse mean? To what does it refer? Where did it originate? How does it fit into the context of the Gospel of Jesus Christ? I will explore parts of the synoptic gospels in search of answers.

Job 39:27-30 tells of an eagle that views his prey from his nest on high. Job concludes, “Where the slain are, there he is.” Probably there existed this saying in the form of a proverb for a long time in the Palestinian community. It migrated into the story of prediction of the end times in Luke and Matthew. There are about 30 references to “eagle, vulture” in the Bible. However, their distribution is not very revealing. Many of the references are found in the context of judgment, while a few are found in the context of apocalyptic visions, such as Ezekiel 1:10 and Revelation 4:7. If I can conclude that the apocalyptic visions serve to introduce the theme of judgment in the end times, then perhaps the eagle is a symbol of judgment in the end times. The eagle (vulture) would therefore be an eschatological symbol.

It is clear from the context of Luke 17:22-37 and Matthew 24:1-36 that the eagle is used as a concluding or summary statement in the context of New Testament apocalyptic. The Little Apocalypse of Mark 13 does not mention the eagle, but is taken over by Luke (21:7-36) and Matthew for their own development of eschatology. Apocalyptic seems to come naturally to the New Testament, for besides the more obvious Mark 13, the synoptic parallels and the Apocalypse of John, other new Testament writings, even from early Hellenistic communities, clearly demonstrate the influence of an apocalyptic world-view.

What is the origin of the synoptic apocalyptic? What is the origin of the eschatology of the synoptic gospels? New Testament scholarship at the end of the nineteenth century was already pointing out that the eschatology of late Jewish apocalyptic provided not only the background of the message of Jesus, but also the content. The apocalyptic tradition nurtured the New Testament in ways that New Testament research in the second half of the twentieth century has made it impossible to deny. Already the conclusion was reached in 1941 that “The world of apocalyptic ideas is the one in which the NT writers were really at home.” Other studies have demonstrated that with the shifting understanding of Israel’s self-identity came a shift in the understanding of Old Testament eschatology. With the development of the transcendence of Yahweh on the one hand, and the situation of the Exiles on the other, apocalyptists began to see the world dominated by principalities and powers that pose a challenge to the divine. This idea of dualism has since been central to apocalyptic, and shaped the eschatology that followed. Apocalyptic eschatology focused on the destruction of evil and the deliverance of the exiles. This is already seen in the work of Ezekiel, Zechariah, Haggai and Zephaniah. The Intertestamental period gave rise what became known as the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, writings that appeared to be wholly dedicated to promoting an eschatology of deliverance and the coming of a new day of the divine, that naturally flowed into the time of the formation of the New Testament. A third source of influence of apocalyptic ideas is the material that originated in the Qumran community of monks that came to be known as The Dead Sea Scrolls. The apocalyptic tradition of the Qumran is visible in the apocalyptic of the early Christian community. It has been said that “The Essenes prove to be the bearers and in no small part the producers, of the apocalyptic tradition of Judaism.” Their ideas of the end of the age and the coming of a new age, was influential, as was their idea of the separate destinies of the righteous and evil. The New Testament inherited an extraordinarily developed set of apocalyptic ideas, and remains today the primary source for the study of Christian apocalyptic.

Mark begins his gospel in this way. “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Yet the gospel did not actually begin with Jesus Christ. It begins with the announcement of the sudden appearance of John the Baptizer preaching in the wilderness. The announcer is none other than the anonymous prophet who has been given the name Deutero-Isaiah. He was certainly one of the prophets on the leading edge of apocalyptic eschatology in the Old Testament. He announces that John the Baptizer has arrived to prepare the way for the coming of the Lord. Mark says that John came “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” (1:4). Mark has Deutero-Isaiah in common with Luke and Matthew. This must have been one of the pre-Markan stories that was circulating. John the Baptizer attracted “all the country of Judea, and all the people of Jerusalem.” They came, they confessed their sins, and they were baptized. John said to them, without any prompting, “After me comes he who is mightier than I, the thong of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” (1:7-8). Mark tells us nothing more of the preaching of John, except that he confronted King Herod, saying, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.”(6:18). The implication of verses 7-8 is that John’s water baptism is not sufficient. The coming One will in some way re-baptize them with the Holy Spirit. What this means is not clear. It does suggest that something is coming towards them, or that they are moving towards something, that will go beyond a baptism of repentance and the forgiveness of sins. Mark shows no interest in amplifying the message of John the Baptizer. Immediately, John baptizes Jesus, and his role comes to an end. Since Mark’s interest is in “the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” it is understandable that John is quickly side-lined. For Mark, the gospel message is completely Christocentric; it is nothing less than the Passion of Christ. For him the Passion determines everything; the end determines the beginning. Therefore, there is no room for another messenger. “Thou art my beloved Son, with thee I am well pleased.” (1:11). This is personal address. “ Do not be amazed; you seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen, he is not here.” (16:6). From end to beginning, the Passion of Jesus Christ is the center of the gospel.

But John the Baptizer came to prepare the way for the coming of the Lord. Mark leaves us to wonder whether the tragic fate of John the Baptizer by itself constitutes the preparation of the way. I think it is most likely that Mark was aware of oral and written traditions about John the Baptizer and his disciples that existed before he wrote his gospel. I consider it significant that he elected not to make use of those traditions. Upon John’s imprisonment, Jesus began his own preaching. He preached the gospel of God. “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel.” (1:15). This initial announcement by Jesus places him definitely within the apocalyptic tradition of the New Testament. The end of the ages has arrived. Something new begins. To participate in that which is now at hand, one must repent and believe. Thus far, the preaching of Jesus and the preaching of John are almost identical. Jesus appears, picking up where John left off. Both John and Jesus began their proclamation at about the same age, 30 years old. (Luke 3:23). I would like to pose the question: where did John and Jesus receive the content of their preaching? The sources do not permit an answer. I believe that they shared a common source from which derived their preaching and teaching. Even the pre-Markan sources do not shed light on this. What can be said with certainty is that both John and Jesus lived at a time when Jewish apocalyptic was the dominant theology. Kasemann said many years ago that “apocalyptic is the mother of Christian theology.” This is certainly true for the New Testament and its formation. I do not believe that it would be unreasonable to suppose that John and Jesus were influenced by, and promoted the apocalyptic ideas that shaped their thinking.

Luke begins his gospel differently. He acknowledges that before he wrote, “many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things which have been accomplished among us.” (1:1) He is clearly aware that traditions have developed ahead of him and that there were extant many compilations of narratives of the story of Jesus Christ. Luke testifies to an eye-witness tradition of the “ministers of the word.” What could that “word” be? Paul sheds light on this; he too received that tradition. “For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.” (I Cor. 15:3-5). That is to say, what Paul received was the tradition of the Passion of Christ: his death, burial, and resurrection. The Passion story seemed to have taken shape, or many different shapes, and was passed on through the Palestinian community (Mark) and also the Hellenistic community (Paul). While each synoptic gospel had its own theological view point, there seems to be agreement that the ministry of Jesus was but a prelude to the Passion of Christ. It was his Passion that would put an end to the present age and bring in the kingdom of God that had come “near.” Paul’s uniquely Christocentric eschatology shows little interest in the teachings of Jesus. (Rom. 8:38).

Luke himself sets out “to write an orderly account” in which he will present the truth of those things. Perhaps Luke is saying that those accounts that existed were not orderly, that is, there might have been collections of stories, sayings, memories, and other material that had not been given final form as in the case of the gospel of Mark. Luke might have thought, if he had the gospel of Mark in front of him, that this gospel was simply an abbreviated rendering of the origins of the Christian story. Luke’s presentation of the birth of John and Jesus is already infused with the apocalyptic of the times. It contains prophecy, angelic visions and announcements, the encounter of humans and angels. For Luke the arrival of John and Jesus is the culmination of eschatological promises and hopes of the prophets of the Old Testament.

One curious factor in this: Luke’s gospel appears to have two different beginning points. He begins first at 1:5, in the days of Herod the King. Thereafter, he presents the birth of John the Baptizer and Jesus. That section runs 1:1-2:52. Luke then appears to write a new beginning at 3:1, in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius. It is clear that these are the same time periods, but that Luke is trying to separate the events of birth from the events of ministry. I cannot account for this. This second “beginning” treats the ministry of John the Baptizer. Like Mark, he uses Deutero-Isaiah to describe John’s arrival and function. (3:4-6). John’s preaching begins immediately upon his arrival. “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits that befit repentance.” (3:7). His preaching is clearly apocalyptic. “Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (3:9). In anticipation of the new age which is about to dawn, a new ethic is required. “He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none; and him who has food, let him do likewise.”(3:10-11). “Collect no more taxes than is appointed you.” “Rob no one by violence or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” (3:13-14). John announces that after he comes one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Luke is the only gospel writer to include fire in this statement. He obviously goes beyond Mark in a number of ways. “His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor, and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”(3:17). I wonder if this prophecy of the threshing floor is a veiled reference to Luke 19:45-46, the Cleansing of the Temple? The Temple of Jerusalem was built upon a threshing floor that David bought and paid for. He set up an altar there, and later after the death of David Solomon built the Temple upon the threshing floor. (I Samuel 24:18-25; 2 Chron. 3:1-2). If this is so, the cleansing of the Temple, making room for the arrival of the Divine, would fit into the framework of apocalyptic themes upon which the Passion of the Christ is built. The Cleansing of the Temple is already a separation of the wheat from the chaff, a theme of judgment that is at the foundation of the apocalyptic eschatology of the gospels.

Jesus began his ministry after he returned from the wilderness where, after forty days, he was tempted by the devil. The story of the temptation, a study of the conflict between the righteous and the evil, in which righteousness is victorious, is one of the themes of apocalyptic. The devil, the counter-divine, does not have the power to defeat the divine. “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. I have given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you.” (Luke 10:18-19). “But if it is by the finger of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.” (Luke 11:20). Clearly the eschatological warfare has begun with the preaching of John the Baptizer and Jesus. When he returned from the wilderness his first stop was “in their synagogues.” It was in the synagogue at Nazareth that Jesus first declared his mission, quoting from Isaiah 61:1-2. He was convinced that the Spirit of the Lord was upon his, and that his ministry was foretold in that prophecy. “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” (4:22). John the Baptizer, however, was not convinced. While he was in prison he sent two of his disciples to Jesus to ask him, “Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?” To this Jesus replied, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have the good news preached to them. And blessed are those who take no offense at me.” (Luke 7:18-23). This is what Isaiah predicted. This is the kingdom of God that has come near. This is apocalyptic eschatology as it is being fulfilled in the ministry of Jesus.

I began my meditation by trying to find a possible or likely context in which Luke 17:37 originated. Earlier in the chapter Jesus had said to the Pharisees that the kingdom of God was not coming with signs that one could see. It was already in their midst. (17:20-21). He changed the theme when he addressed his disciples, perhaps privately, from the kingdom of God to the Son of man. The Son of man will come as suddenly as lightning, after he has suffered and has been rejected “by this generation.” The people who judge the Son of man will themselves be judged. Luke 17: 22-37 allows insight into the thinking of Jesus. Just as the kingdom of God is already in their midst as judgment, “so it will be on the day when the Son of man is revealed.” (17:30). In the person of Jesus of Nazareth the judgment is already taking place. He separates the wheat from the chaff; one is taken, another left. Even his disciples did not know when nor where. So they asked him, “Where, Lord?” He replied, “Where the body is, there the eagles will be gathered.” Where the corpse is, there the vultures will be gathered. This very puzzling verse must have been a proverb known to the community. Those who heard it would have understood it in the same way that the first readers of the Apocalypse would have understood what it meant. Luke 17:37 may have been a statement that only the insiders, the disciples who asked him, might have understood. Corpses are gathered in cemeteries. In Luke 7:11-17, Jesus stops a funeral procession from reaching the cemetery by raising the dead son of the widow of Nain. Cemeteries are symbols of what has come to an end. The vultures that are gathered there are those for whom the end has arrived. “Where the body is, there the eagles will be gathered.” The evil generation has come to an end. The evil age has passed. The end has arrived in the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The divine has vanquished the counter-divine. “The chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Henceforth theology is eschatology. These words of St. Paul are full of insight. “For I am not ashamed of the gospel: it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed through faith for faith, as it is written, He who through faith is righteous shall live.” Romans 2:16-17.

AN ANSWER

Luke 14:26 “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

These are harsh words of Jesus. One is not accustomed to hearing such words from him, so it is shocking to hear him speak in this manner. Matthew’s version is quite different and abbreviated. This difference will have to be explored to see what light it may shed on Luke’s version of the words of Jesus, though I shall not attempt that in this meditation. Luke follows the Q-document while Matthew goes in a different direction. It is difficult to understand what Luke is trying to communicate here, but one cannot refrain from taking this seriously enough to pursue this thought to its source and uncovering its true meaning.

The difficulty is compounded when one considers that Jesus emphasizes the commandment to honor father and mother, (Luke 18:20). His teaching concerning divorce (Luke 16:18) demonstrated his commitment to an integrated family with strong personal bonds. In the calling of the disciples (Matthew 4:18) Jesus made no demand on them to leave family behind, or more strongly, to hate family. On one occasion he healed Simon’s mother-in-law (Luke 4:38-39). He healed the daughter of Jairus (Mark 5:22; Luke 8:40-56). He healed an epileptic boy and restored him to his father (Luke 9:37-42). He restored life to the only son of the widow of Nain, a mother on the way to the cemetery (Luke 7:11-15). These passages and many more reveal how Jesus understood relationships within families and communities. There is ample data to demonstrate that Jesus did not preach a message of hate. The Great Commandment includes loving one’s neighbor as oneself (Mark 12:29-31). He teaches to love your enemies and do good to those who hate you (Luke 6:27).

What does Jesus really think about family? The answer to this question is not immediately obvious or available. It must be sought by a careful exploration of the synoptic gospels, beginning with a focus on the tradition of the family into which he was born. Luke’s birth and infancy narratives offer a rich source of the religious tradition that shaped Jesus. There are stories of Zechariah and Elizabeth, of Mary and Joseph. These provide insights into the religious background of family life and the foundation upon which this depended. The stories demonstrate that Jesus was a special child born for great things; consequently, the role of family tradition is important. Still, one must approach the material cautiously with the understanding that the gospel materials have been shaped by theological motifs rather than historical demands. Luke (12:49) tells the story of Jesus at age 12 in the Temple. It is likely an ancient legend preserved by Luke because is congruent with his theme of Jesus and the Temple. Jesus was lost for three days. His parents sought him and finally found him in the Temple among scholars teaching and learning. He was baffled at his parents’ scolding, that they did not realize he would be in the Temple going about his Father’s business. Jesus seemed to assume not only that his parents would know this but also would understand why he was doing it. His attitude demonstrated that he fully expected his parents to support what he was doing because this was expected of him from his birth. Nevertheless, he left the temple, obedient to his parents’ authority. This story indicates that within his family there was the expectation of respect and obedience to authority, namely, honor to father and mother. He learned this lesson well.

Jesus was reared in the context of religious law and practice. His parents went every year to Jerusalem for the Passover festival. (Luke 2:41). He was circumcised (vs.21) and given his name according to custom. He was taken to the Temple for purification and presentation (vs.22) as was expected according to Exodus 13:2, 12. According to Luke 2:39 the family performed everything according to the law of the Lord before they returned to Nazareth. It was also in this religious context that Jesus learned the Great Commandment that he made use of in his preaching and teaching. All of these events would have given Jesus a very positive understanding of the importance of family.

In Luke 3:23, at his baptism the voice from heaven proclaimed, “Thou art my beloved son.” This confirms what Jesus had told his parents they found him in the Temple. In the Temptation the devil challenged his sonship, and Jesus vanquished him with words from scripture. (Luke 4:1-12). For Jesus, family relationships are deeply embedded in scriptures. The Good Samaritan (10:29-37) and the Prodigal Son, (Luke 15: 11-32) emphasize love for neighbor and love within family. Such love is embedded in the commandments. All of these examples point to the certainty that Jesus accepted the religious tradition handed on to him through his family. From this analysis I conclude that inspite of the obvious reading of Luke 14:26 Jesus was not asking his followers to live a life of hate. This calls for further analysis.

I will now focus my investigation in another direction which will bring us closer to understanding the meaning of Luke 14:26.

Luke 3:15-17. In this passage John the Baptist announces that Jesus will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Ahead of this baptism Jesus came prepared with a winnowing fork to separate the wheat from the chaff. The chaff will be burned with unquenchable fire. The wheat will be gathered into the granary. Perhaps this is an obscure reference to the church, the gathering of the people of God from the four corners of the world, but such importance need not be attached to the statement. John is proclaiming that with the arrival of Jesus something new breaks in upon the world. John himself had begun his prophetic ministry by announcing that “every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Luke 2:9). Jesus promotes similar ideas (Luke 17:33-35). See also Matthew 25:31-460). This indicates that in the presence of Jesus people are separated into different camps by their own action. “Why do you call me Lord, Lord, and do not do what I tell you?”(Luke 7:46). Jesus then described those who come to him and hear his words. They are like a house build upon a rock, a solid foundation, unshakable. Those who hear his words and do not do them are like a house built upon sand. Jesus is presenting the idea that to follow him one must hear and do and stand firm. That is to say, to follow Jesus is to make a choice for a particular disposition towards Jesus, towards one’s own life and towards the future. “Blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” (11:28).

On his first visit to the home of Martha and Mary, (Luke 10:38-42) in Bethany Jesus found two sisters who demonstrated two different ways of relating to him. He responded to Martha’s concerns by saying, “One thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion and it shall not be taken from her.” One thing is needful, to choose or not to choose Jesus. “No one can serve two masters.” (16:13). “He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters.” (11:23). “Follow me and let the dead bury their own dead.” (9:49). “No one who puts his hand on the plow and looks back is worthy of the kingdom of God.” (9:62). Jesus told the rich young man who wanted to inherit eternal life,” One thing you still lack. Sell all you have and give it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven, and come, follow me.” (18:22). “So whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”(Luke 14:33). There is a price to be paid for following Jesus. One must abandon everything in this world and not be bound by anything. Only those who are completely free can make a completely free decision to follow Jesus. The disciples left their nets and their work. Since people are frequently defined by their work, those who follow Jesus leave behind their definition and self-understanding in order to be open and free to accept the definition “blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it.” Jesus is equally firm with his own family. In Luke 8:19-21, an abbreviated form of Mark 3 and Matthew 12, the story of told that the mother and brothers of Jesus were waiting for him. He replied, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”

Jesus continually demanded obedience to the word of God. It is this obedience that is the foundation of family life. Implicit in this demand is a radical Christocentric theology. It is only from within such a Christocentric theology that Luke 14:26 can be understood. Human hate separates. Divine love unites. Christ the center demands of his followers that everything and everyone be left at the margins. The kingdom of God must be sought for its own sake. Such seeking must not be diverted by any kind of attachment to this world, no matter how precious they are. Whoever comes to Jesus comes alone; stands in the light of his countenance alone; endures alone the scrutiny which the invitation brings. Ultimately and finally every human being stands alone before Jesus. In the midst of the gathered people of God at worship, the follower of Jesus stands alone, with a uniqueness that has its origin in the divine. The center is always where Christ stands. The center itself draws towards it those who have decided to follow Jesus. However, the question of hate still needs to be answered.

The Phenomenon of Hate

At is most obvious level, hate is separation. Human beings belong together in the shared world of daily commerce. Hate is a denial and rejection of the vital connectedness that makes life together possible in this world. Out of the possibilities that present themselves in the shared world meanings emerge: simple meanings such as “I can go shopping.” Or more complicated ones can emerge such as, “I can grieve my dead.” Hate is always potentially present. When it actualizes hate renders meaningless the human relatedness that is required for shared existence. Hate is therefore not a psychological response to the action of the Other, but is always a decisive, active action of will. To hate is to will meaningless; to will separation; to will isolation. The hater languishes there where there is darkness and no light.

Being together in the world is characteristic of human beings. Hate renders the hater “worldless” in that it removes the hater from the commonly shared space where existence actualizes itself. To exist without a world is to be thrown into existential isolation, which is properly the essence of sin removed from its theological protection. Being together in the world as a characteristic of human existence requires openness to avail oneself of emerging meanings that are potentially transformative, and that randomly occur in open spaces between human beings. Hate closes off, restricts, all openness. Hate rejects the possibility of meanings arising randomly in that it denies the possibility of existence of the Other as an actual human being who is openly available for encounter, that is, for generating meaning within shared space. As such hate is a concrete way of existing in the world, established on the basis of denial, rejection, abandonment, and isolation. The hater exists in a space that now lacks definition, a space that has been deprived of its content, namely, human presence, the essence of which is the possibility of free co-existence. Hate as a decisive, active act of will confines the hater in a specific moment, the present, out of which the hater cannot emerge. Consequently, the hater is immersed in existential isolation. Hate renders their world relationless. The hater languishes from where there is no exit.

Existing together in a shared world discloses that all relationships are somatically defined. Human beings do not and cannot exist bodily apart from the shared world in which their meanings emerge. Without body there is neither sight nor sound; speech nor hearing; feeling nor sensing. When the body is confined by hate the human being ceases to be present to the Other in a transformative way. The human being simply ceases to be.

Those who have denied, rejected all family relationships and have relinquished their at-homeness in this world, in their complete existential estrangement and is0lation are now given a new invitation by Jesus. “Follow me!”

Conclusion

I propose that the foregoing analysis provides a framework within which one may understand and make some sense of Luke 14:26 – “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

Jesus enters into the dark existential isolation of these persons with a proclamation of hope. He announces, “I am the light of the world. Follow me!” Jesus breaks into their closed world with his proclamation of hope. He announces, “I am the way. Follow me!” Jesus enters into their world where life is not. He proclaims hope to them. “I am the resurrection and the life. Follow me!”

I would like to end my meditation by quoting one of my most favorite theological passages. It is the closing paragraph of Albert Schweitzer’s The Quest of the Historical Jesus.

“He comes to us as One unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lake-side, He came to those men who knew Him not. He speaks to us the same word: “Follow thou me!” and sets us to the tasks which He has to fulfil for our time. He commands. And to those who obey Him, whether they be wise or simple, He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in His fellowship, and, as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience Who He is.”

I CAME TO BRING FIRE TO THE EARTH

Luke 12:49 – “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!”

Luke is the only evangelist to make this statement. It must have held a special meaning for him, and this needs to be explored and uncovered.

Jesus says, “I came to bring fire to the earth.” Does this mean that he has brought with him the fire that he will cast upon the earth? It is possible that the fire is already present in a way that is concealed from humans? Is he himself the fire that he will cast upon the earth? What precisely is this fire? I will pursue these questions in search of answers to the statement in 12:49. Luke 12:50 says, “I have a baptism with which to be baptized and what stress I am under until it is accomplished!” It is clear that “baptism” in this context does not refer to baptism with water as performed by John the Baptist. Is this not yet accomplished baptism the same thing as the fire which is to be cast upon the earth? Jesus’ discussion with James and John the sons of Zebedee in Mark 8:38 may shed some light on the meaning I am trying to uncover. This also calls for investigation. I will try to show that Luke 12:49 and 12:50 do not constitute a unity, and that the differences between the two statements are important for understanding the meaning of fire upon the earth.

I have looked at the references to fire in the Gospel of Luke. The following list constitutes all of Luke’s statements in which fire is used. In Luke 3:9, fire is used in the context of a judgement between trees that produce good fruit and those that do not. In Luke 3:16-17, John the Baptist says he who is coming will baptize with fire, and he will separate the wheat from the chaff, and “will burn the chaff with unquenchable fire.” In Luke 9:34, fire is mentioned as a potential judgement against the Samaritans who would not receive Jesus. In Luke 17:29, fire is used as a judgement against Sodom. In Luke 22:55, a warming fire is built in the courtyard of the high priest wen Jesus is brought before him. Most of these disclose that fire has a relationship to judgment, conflict, disorder, and often in the context of groups or individuals. I do not believe that the statement in 12:49 about fire belongs with these statements that indicate some form of judgement. I believe that the Evangelist has something different in mind that he wants to communicate to the young church.

Jesus came to bring fire to the earth. He has not come to bring fire upon Jerusalem, or upon any defined geographical area. He has come to do something that will have a universal impact. The fire must therefore be something of special and unique importance. In Exodus 3:2 Moses experiences a theophany, drawn to the burning bush which is on fire but is not consumed. Ezekiel, in 1:4, is confronted by a mysterious fire, a theophany which then defines the nature of his vocation. Elijah on Mount Horeb, I Kings 19:12 is caught up in a theophany involving fire, “but the Lord was not in the fire.” And the story of Pentecost in Acts 2 again involves fire that transforms. I am inclined to believe that the fire in these examples of theophany does not deal with judgement but with revelation. Something is revealed that then transforms people and sets them on a new course of life. It is a revelation of mission and vocation. Those who are participants in the revelation receive a call to service that then promises a new future.

Jesus says, “I came to bring fire to the earth.” This is his mission. What exactly is revealed in his mission? “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news.’ Mark 1:14-15. Later on he said to his disciples, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns so that I may proclaim the message there also; for this is what I came out to do.” Mark 1:38. The mission of Jesus is an eschatological one, as is the message of John. This is clear from the response he sent to John the Baptist in prison in Matthew 11.

John sent his own disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus said, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” This is the eschatological message of Jesus. It is the quintessential definition of the kingdom of God on earth. This is also as precise a definition of the church as one may find. The kingdom of God, the church, is a relationship of transformation. The church is where the new creation begins and continues. The church is the new heaven and new earth of which John speaks in the Apocalypse. The church as new creation where transformation is the rule is not a fixed but a pilgrim community. It exists only in movement. Every time Jesus speaks the new creation begins anew. Every time the message of the gospel is proclaimed, the church comes into being. This is the eschatological message. The church is eschatology in action and in mission. “Let anyone with ears listen!” Matthew 11:15. And Revelation repeatedly says even more clearly, “Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.”

“I came to bring fire to the earth; and how I wish that it were already kindled!” The kingdom of God is at hand. Jesus is saying that the fire that he casts upon the earth is none other than the kingdom of God that is at hand and the church that comes into being through the mission of Jesus. By the time of the writing of the Gospel of Luke it was certainly kindled, and perhaps not much more than “a dimly burning wick,” in a world in chaos. Fire upon the earth is a revelation of the coming into being of the kingdom of God and the church. The fire itself illuminates rather than destroys. The fire as light is also revelation. It reveals the present world as it is, awaiting deliverance. “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” The fire reveals the mission of miracle and mystery: the blind see, deaf hear, the dead are raised, the good news is proclaimed.

In early Greek thought, Aeschylus gave us Prometheus who stole fire from the gods and so gave humanity civilization. The name Prometheus means the one who thinks ahead. He is a forward-looking thinker. I may conclude from this that fire has its origin with the divine and once in the hands of humanity, has the power to point the way ahead. Fire discloses, uncovers something without which humankind is not complete. Heraclitus thinks fire is light. Light illuminates. It makes visible what has been hidden. When Luke 3:16 says that Jesus will baptize with fire he indicates that the outpouring of fire upon humanity brings something new to light. This cannot be the unquenchable fire of verse 3:17, which surely is a metaphor for judgment. Jesus baptizing with fire is something other than judgment. Something is hidden that will be revealed by Jesus in this baptism with fire. Luke does not say what is to be revealed, only that Jesus will baptize with fire. Fire shines brightly. It is light. Baptizing with fire is baptizing with light. He who is the Light will pour out upon humankind his light, that is, he will pour out Himself. Luke may be indicating that Jesus will give Himself for humanity, that baptism with the Holy Spirit and with fire is about the sacrifice that Jesus will make, and therefore when Luke says that Jesus will baptize with fire he is conveying the idea of the Passion of Christ. If this argument holds, then I may conclude that the life of Christ is Passion, from beginning to end. Further, those who are baptized in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit are forever the Passion of Christ. The Revelation of John conveys the same idea: the Passion of Christ is the Passion of the church. The fire is not judgment. It lights up the way into the Passion, and the Passion is sustained by its light. The divine which no longer inhabits fire (Elijah on Horeb) has, by its exit, made room there for the church to exist in the fire and be illuminated by its light and enlightened by its wisdom. That the church exists in the fire and is not consumed may be the essential meaning of Luke 12:50. It may be that today the church is the burning bush, the place of revelation, the final proclamation that God is still with us.

Luke 12:50 says, “I have a baptism with which to be baptized with; and what stress I am under until it is accomplished.” The sons of Zebedee were going to be a part of this baptism, as were all the disciples for all will share in the Passion of Christ. The church exists as the Passion of Christ. Wherever the church is found there is revealed the Passion of Christ. The Passion is an eschatological event which brings into being the redeemed and the redemptive community. This is obviously quite different from fire upon the earth. The two statements may have existed in different contexts in the early Palestinian community, but Luke brings them together here for a particular purpose. They do not belong together, for they point to two different motifs. John the Baptist says of Jesus, “he will baptize you with Holy Spirit and with fire.” Luke 3:16. Luke is the only Evangelist to associate baptism and fire as part of the mission of Jesus. Perhaps, this is one of the reasons that Luke has placed verses 12:49 and 50 together. The fire cast upon the earth is a new beginning. “The earth was a formless void, and darkness covered the face of the deep; and a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light; and there was light.” Genesis 1:2-3. This is precisely what we must understand in the words of Jesus, “I came to bring fire to the earth.” This is his “Let there be light!”

“I came to bring fire to the earth.” I have come to inaugurate the new creation, to bring into being the church, the people of God called out to be one from the many corners of the earth. “Blessed are the eyes which see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.” Luke 10:23-24.

“The poor in spirit,” Matthew 5:3

Where in the context of New Testament anthropology is this understanding of some human beings located? It is clear this statement is not an anthropological definition of “the poor.” Neither is it a statement about the Holy Spirit. It is about a specific category of people, as is those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted. Spirit, in that it pertains to human beings, is the activity of willing, the exercise of power, and the capacity to perceive meanings of the outer world in relationship with inner strivings.

The poor in spirit are those who are almost completely deficient in spirit. The emphasis here is on spirit. Is it possible that the statement refers to a medical or psychological condition? Perhaps it is something like depression, or despair? Mark 2:17 – “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.” Perhaps this verse can throw some light on the poor in spirit.

Kierkegaard reminds us that the human being is a spirit, a self, a synthesis. With the disappearance of the synthesis, or any element of it, human being disappears into an inward void, detached, inaccessible, in a state of complete despair. This is existential alienation and abandonment.

Such persons live in complete isolation and loneliness, their suffering is so intense that it can hardly be described. They can neither describe nor name their illness, for they are as yet completely unaware that they are ill. Neither do they demonstrate any sense of wellness. The illness manifests itself in withdrawal, and the state of existence of these persons is withdrawal. The phenomenon of withdrawal is characterized by the taking into oneself one’s entire external world, relationships, modes of being, modes of acting and modes of speaking, rejected by the outer world and confined to an inner world of silence.

This internalized state of existence makes them unable to reach beyond themselves, because for them “beyond themselves” does not exist. They have been exiled to an unfathomable land whose geography is probably best described by “here” and “now.” They live in a land of here and now. They have neither past nor future. Nothing impels them, nothing beckons them. They have been abandoned by both history and hope. Their entire existence is enclosed in a rigid small space out of which they have no possibility of emerging or escaping.

This enclosed tiny space has its own peculiar meaning. I am reminded of Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilych. Toward the end of Ivan’s life we read:

“All those three days, during which time did not exist for him, he was struggling in that black sack in which he was being thrust by an unseen resistless force. He struggled as the man condemned to death struggles in the hands of his executioner, knowing that he cannot save himself. And every moment he felt that in spite of all his efforts to struggle against it, he was getting nearer and nearer to what terrified him.

“At that very moment Ivan Ilych had rolled into the hole and caught sight of the light, and it was revealed to him that his life had not been what it ought to have been, but that that could still be set right.”

The poor in spirit completely despairing in their isolated existence are not totally devoid of hope. In their geography of here and now, in their kingdom of the present, the kingdom of this passing world, arrives a promise. Something awaits them beyond their understanding, beyond their reach, as all of God’s gifts are beyond my understanding and beyond my reach. The Light of the world appears, announcing the arrival of a newer world. “Repent and believe. The Kingdom of God has come among you.”

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Some thoughts on a rainy afternoon.

A HIDDEN PARABLE

Matthew 8:22 – “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”
That is what Jesus said. But, what did this unnamed bereaved disciple hear? Can I ever know what he heard in the demand of Jesus? He certainly was not one of the Twelve, for nowhere do we hear of any of them losing a parent to death. His anonymity makes the context more urgent. He may have been just as anonymous to Jesus as he is to me. Whoever follows Jesus, even beyond the Twelve, stands under the same demand, “Follow me!” Then, as now, the urgency has not lessened. The parable is brief. A certain man had a son who was attracted to the message of Jesus. The son was a willing disciple, that is, student of Jesus. He followed as a learner. One day, he heard that his father had died, or was about to die. He wanted to return home to fulfill his duties as a son to his deceased, or about to decease, father. He asked permission of the teacher, who replied, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.” That is the parable. It places the disciple before a choice: remain among the dead or dwell with the living.

“Let the dead bury their own dead” is an impossibility. And, is this any more impossible than the demand, “Follow me?” If I take the whole statement grammatically as appositional, then “Let the dead bury their own dead,” repeats the first part, “Follow me.” Then I would read this as follows:
Follow me – do the impossible.
Let the dead bury their own dead – do the impossible.
Discipleship is always an impossible possibility.
The son, the disciple, is taught something new: leave the past to the past, embrace the future. Perhaps the son, as disciple, is embryonic Church. What does the Church hear in these words? How does the Church hear these words?

(Luke’s version, 9:57-62, is illuminating. “Leave the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Not only does Jesus say Follow me; he also says, Go ahead of me, and as you go proclaim the kingdom of God. To another disciple Jesus said, “No one who puts his hand on the plow and looks back is worthy of the kingdom of God.” In any case, Luke’s version will require a different kind of reflection to uncover the meaning of the parable.)

In Matthew’s version, the dead and the disciple belong in different dimensions, different worlds. That is, the dead belong elsewhere. The disciple belongs only in the act of following Jesus. Like Jesus, he has nowhere to lay his head. The essence of discipleship, what defines the disciple in this sense, is transience. One might even say homelessness. The disciple is always “on the way.”

What did the disciple hear in the words of Jesus? Perhaps he heard, “I must relinquish the world that I received upon my arrival, and embrace the world that leads to my departure.” The call to follow Jesus changes people. Fishermen become missionaries. They seek out the living.

What does the Church hear? The Church arrives by departing, even if reluctantly. The Church exists in transit. It can never abide, for in abiding, it passes away. The Church answers the call to follow in each moment, in each instance and in this way takes unto itself the new that is arriving.
“Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.” The Church exists only between departure and arriving.

“Prometheus Bound” Aeschylus

“I rescued men from shattering destruction.” I gave to mortal men precedence over myself in pity.

“Besides, I gave them fire.”

“Did you perhaps go further than you have told us? Yes, I stopped mortals from foreseeing gloom. What cure did you discover for that sickness? I sowed in them blind hope. That was a great help you gave to men.

“But man’s tribulation that I would have you hear – How I found them mindless and gave them minds, made them masters of their wits.”

“In one sentence understand it all: Every art of mankind comes from Prometheus.”

THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD – Matthew 28:1-10

DAWN

Cold rapid hands

draw back one by one

the bandages of dark

I open my eyes

still

I am living

at the center

of a wound still fresh.

Octavio Paz

The Easter stories in the gospels differ in significant details that can be traced to apologetic and theological interests of the individual Evangelists. At the earliest stage of the tradition there were at least two separate kinds of stories. There were stories of the empty tomb; and there were stories of the appearances of the risen Lord. Over time the tradition brought these stories together so that there now exist stories that include both of these themes such as Matthew 28.

Matthew’s narrative begins with Mary Magdalen and “the other” Mary, probably “Mary the mother of James and Joseph,” of 27:56. He does not say why they are on their way to the tomb, only that they waited until the Sabbath was over. Matthew probably wants to show that these women were witnesses to the scenes he is creating. The following verses, 28:2-7, describe what is likely a Christophany. There is the great earthquake, the angel coming down from heaven, the description of the appearance of the angel as lightening and his clothing white as snow, and the consequent fear of the guards at the tomb. Matthew is preparing his audience, who are already apparently acquainted with theophanies, for the appearance of the risen Lord. Such an appearance would be a Christophany, something that was already present in the consciousness of the early church shortly after the death of Jesus, as is clear from I Cor. 15: 3-5. Matthew creates this theophany to show that the events associated with the death of Jesus are guided by the hand of God.

The event that Matthew describes is terrifying. The Roman soldiers who were guarding the tomb shook with fear, “and became like dead men.” On the other hand, the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid.” The Roman guards have become like dead men because this message is not for the unbelieving. In this sense, the unbelieving are like dead people. This message is for the women, that is, when Matthew says “women” here he intends to say that he is speaking to the church, the community of faith that can hear this message and accept it as a part of their discipleship. From Matthew 28:11-15 it is clear that the unbelieving world will not accept the presence or the message of the angel. It is not simple the women who are listening to the angel, it is the church itself through the ages that continues to hear the message and to respond to it with renewed proclamation in its preaching, teaching and healing. The church remains, and must remain in the proximity of the tomb as it must in the proximity of the cross. For the cross and the tomb constitute one single event, an event best described as Grace. The church must face the tragedy of the cross and the hopelessness of an empty tomb for that is where its reflection on God’s story of redemption properly begins.

The angel says, “Do not be afraid.” Often in his life among the disciples Jesus comforted them in this way. When the women hear this they are hearing his voice again. They recognize in the voice of the angel the same comfort that they must have felt in the presence of Jesus. Fear is the disposition of the whole person to something which is unknown. It is something that overtakes us when our soul and spirit feel that they stand before an abyss, a void that can consume them completely. When the angel says, “Do not be afraid,” he is speaking for Jesus, and the words are meant to show that Jesus himself stands before the abyss, the void, to shield the church from being consumed by the world. When pastors face their congregations and read the gospel message, “Do not be afraid,” they are doing exactly the same thing as the angel. This is something that we must never forget. Pastors are sent to the people exactly as the angel was sent. The pastor’s message is exactly the same. Just as the angel descended from the realm of the divine, so the congregation must understand that the pastor’s words have their origin in the realm of the divine. And when this word becomes a concrete Word to the hopeless who is in complete despair, this is then the authentic Word of God. Only to the extent that the pastor’s word addresses me in my concrete existential alienation does that word deserve to be called the Word of God. Like the angel, the pastor today stands before a people struggling to retain its hopes. It is Jesus who as the empty tomb becomes the abyss, the void into which the church must always venture for only by passing through the empty tomb does the church emerge into the light of the new world that is described in the word “resurrection.” It is only by living in the always fresh wound of Jesus’ hand and feet and side can the church discover the meaning of new life.

“I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.” The angelic messenger possesses knowledge that existed before his descent from heaven. 28:2. He knows before he has arrived at the tomb that the women had come to seek Jesus who was crucified. Matthew uses this method repeatedly to demonstrate that all the events regarding Jesus are in the hands of God. The church today continues to look for Jesus who was crucified. This is its ministry and its mission: to go out into the world and to seek the crucified Jesus in the face of children without food, parents without jobs, the homeless without means, the helpless without power, the sick without care and the healthy without conscience. Matthew is sending the church a message through the angel and through the hearing of the women that the church cannot cease from looking for Jesus who was crucified. The church continues to look for the crucified Jesus wherever there is injustice, where hope is threatened and optimism stifled, where hate is a way of life that leads to death always. The unbelieving world cannot hear the voice of the angel. It cannot know that it is on a course that leads to death. It cannot know this until the church emerges from the other side of the empty tomb and preaches the message that life has come out of the grave, and that the grace of God waits to embrace those who have ears to hear. To look for Christ crucified is nothing other than to proclaim the good news of salvation.

“He is not here; for he has been raised as he said.” There are complicated thoughts tied up in this verse. Jesus is not here. Jesus has warned about speculation as to his presence. Mark 13:30; 24:32. The women went to a place of death, the tomb. They and the church through the ages discover that Jesus does not remain in the tomb. The tomb is empty, and that means first of all that “as he said” he has been raised from the dead. “As he said,” and Mark records: 8:31; 9:30; 10:33-34; 14:28. “As he said” is identical to “in accordance with the scriptures.” However, the empty tomb is not some kind of proof for the resurrection of Jesus. Matthew’s story is not about resurrection. There is no eye-witness to the resurrection of Jesus. What is important for us is the “as he said,” the Word that Jesus proclaimed in his life, and the life he now shares in his death. The tomb is a witness to death; it is not a witness to life. The “as he said” continues to be the foundation for the witness of the church. The women at the tomb, and the church through them, must abide always in the “as he said.’ Only faith can appropriate what is contained in “as he said.” The faith of the individual, the faith of the church is always faith in the proclamation of Jesus and faith in the proclamation about Jesus. Faith must always accept “he is not here.” On the cross Jesus transcended the world. The manner of his presence in the church can be described only in the words “he is not here.” The “where” of his presence cannot be perceived, only believed. I cannot conceive of a more complete definition of faith than “he is not here.”

“Come, see the place where he lay.” The women have heard the word of the angel. Now they must see. Hearing and seeing are modes of existence that keep us in relationship with everything around us. The invitation to come and see is an invitation to participate fully in what is before them. The angel who took their fear away now gives them hearing and sight. Matthew’s message to the church is come and hear and see. It is an invitation to the church and to the world, and in time it will be the content of the missionary enterprise. The angel himself will make this clear to the women. The message is not only “come and see.” The message is also “go and tell.” This means that the story of the empty tomb is not a story about the resurrection. It is a story whose apologetic content is the mission of the church. This would mean that the story that Matthew tells comes very late in the life of the church, long after it has settled in different communities, and for this reason the story could not have been located “on the third day” after the resurrection. The Passion of Christ is the starting point of the ministry of the church as church.

The angel then tells the women, “go quickly and tell his disciples ‘he has been raised from the dead and he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’” The angel was sent to tell the women. The women are sent to tell the disciples. Sending is an essential part of ministry; it is the means by which the gospel is taken where human needs exist. The women are to tell the disciples that “he has been raised from the dead.” The language makes clear that it is God who raises Jesus from the dead. The resurrection as divine miracle is for of a matter of telling hearing. No one is an eye-witness to the resurrection. The church continues the activity of telling and hearing of the resurrection. This is the way in which each one individually and the church as the community of faith access the resurrection. It is something which first of all is “told” and then it is “heard,” and then it is believed. It is only faith that grasps Jesus as the Crucified and Risen Lord as is clear from Romans 10:14-17. The church now as then knows that the divine encounters us only in the proclamation of the Word, and that Word is made concrete in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. That Word is today proclaimed in the Church, and by this fact the Church is itself the Word of God for the world. There is no distinction. The Word of God and Church form an indivisible unity, so we can say “We believe one, holy, catholic and apostolic church, the communion of saints.”

The women left the tomb with fear and great joy. So far in this proclamation by the angel, the women’s lives have been touched by hearing and seeing. Now they are touched by feeling: by fear which binds and by joy which frees. That is to say, the proclamation of the angel has touched their lives completely. This is the way the proclamation of the church works: it touches and changes lives. While on their way, they are met by Jesus. Throughout his ministry Jesus was presented as interrupting the journey of people and transforming their lives. The women must have seen this for themselves many times. Now it happens to them. Jesus greets them, they recognize him, and fall at his feet and worship him. Perhaps Matthew has been influenced by the liturgical practice of his own church in creating this scene. The church at worship today still reflects this scene. When the pastor says, “The Lord be with you,” he or she is making the Crucified and Risen Christ present here and now. Let us not rush past this, for this is the most important Word that the pastor proclaims. By invoking the Presence of the Living One, we stand before the Altar, the Throne of Judgment, which is none other than the Throne of Grace. Everything that happens after this, happens in the Presence of Christ and by the grace of Christ. We cannot fail to see the power of this Word, for Christ himself empowers us in this way to bring him out of hiding into the full light of worship and witness. And when the congregation responds, “And also with you,” the congregation is empowering the pastor by proclaiming that Christ is present in what the pastor says and does at worship.

Jesus comforts the women again. “Do not be afraid.” Is there any doubt now that the word of the angel is none other than the Word of the Crucified and Risen Lord? It is the same word that we can sense and feel at worship, a sublime upsurge of the spirit that brings quietness to the troubled soul. Again, when the pastor reads this lesson and says, “Do not be afraid,” we have to hear the voice of the Crucified and Risen Lord in the voice of the pastor. We still abide in the context of the Word, “He is not here.” The voice of the pastor is the voice of Christ, making Christ present in word and witness, in bread in wine, in song and celebration. Jesus repeats the message of the angel to “go and tell.” But he does not say “my disciples.” He says, “my brothers.” Jesus of Nazareth had disciples. The Crucified and Risen Lord has brothers. Matthew is proclaiming that those in the church are not followers but family. In the presence of Christ something new happens. The world is being created anew. The old relationships are transformed. That is why we never leave the church after worship as the same person who entered there earlier. We leave as those who have been transformed by the Word that we have heard, by the bread that we have eaten, by the wine that we have drunk. We have been transformed by the lives that we have touched and those whose lives have touched ours. We leave cleansed, forgiven, reborn, and raised from the dead and still living at the center of a wound still fresh.

The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluya!

(Note: for those using the alternate reading, please see my post on John 20:1-18 for Easter, 20313.)

Matthew 27:11-55

“He cried at his own helplessness, at his awful loneliness, at the cruelty of people, at the cruelty of God, at the absence of God.                                                                                          ‘Why hast Thou done all this? What brought me to this? Why? Why torture me so horribly?                                                                                                                                                He did not expect an answer, and wept indeed that there was and could be no answer. The pain grew more acute again, but he did not stir, did not call.                                                     He said to himself, ‘Come, more then; come strike me! But what for? What have I done to Thee? What for?’                                                                                                                               Then he was still, ceased weeping, held his breath, and was all attention; he listened, as it were, not to a voice uttering sounds, but to the voice of his soul, to the current of thoughts that rose up within him.                                                                                                                ‘What is it you want?’ was the first clear idea able to be put into words that he grasped. ‘What? Not to suffer, to live,’ he answered. And again he was utterly plunged into attention so intense that even the pain did not distract him.                                                                      ‘To live? Live how?’ the voice of his soul was asking.                                                              ‘Why, live as I used to live before – happily and pleasantly.’”

Leo Tolstoy “The Death of Ivan Illich”

St. Paul writes, “For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures; and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures.” I Cor. 15:3-4. The First Letter to the Corinthians was written around 50-55 CE, that is, about two decades after the crucifixion of Jesus. Paul’s testimony shows that already a tradition of the Passion was developed, “in accordance with the scriptures.” The Passion narratives in the four gospels searched the Old Testament for information to make sense of the death of Jesus, none more so than Matthew. By the time Matthew’s gospel was written towards the end of the first century, the tradition had been enlarged to such a degree that a complete narrative was then handed on to the church through the ages.

The Passion narratives in the gospels are composed of materials that come from different sources, to which “Matthew has added legendary material of all kinds,” according to Bultmann. There are Old Testament interpretations and traditions that are all very late and were not intended to be historical documents. “The Passion narrative is more strongly coloured with legendary material.” The only event that has historical credibility is the crucifixion. After the arrest of Jesus all his followers went into hiding and could not possibly be eye-witnesses to succeeding events. Everything that comes after the arrest is a theologically shaped literary composition. The followers of Jesus had to find an explanation for what happened to him. The earliest oral tradition looked to the Old Testament for answers. Decades later, there were attempts at narratives that would shape the understanding and beliefs of the early Church. Under this impetus, gospels were beginning to appear. Mark was the first, and was influenced by the traditions that were before him, as were the other Evangelists. Often, the various stories that made up the whole were based on the application of Old Testament prophecies rather than on actual history. Other stories were legends created to respond to the doctrinal and apologetic motifs of the early Church. The stories were joined together by the editorial processes of the Evangelist themselves and later redactors or copyists. Each of the four Passion narratives represents the theological and doctrinal views of the Evangelists and the Christian communities they represented. The Passion itself is a theology of history rather than an historical account of each of the events of the last days of Jesus. This theology of history is the vehicle that bears the message of Jesus and the Church from then to now. To hear the message of the story of redemption one must listen to the voice of theology as this is presented in the New Testament.

For this Sunday of the Passion I have decided to use the shorter reading from Matthew 27: 11-54. This section begins with the trial of Jesus before Pilate and ends with the crucifixion. The trial before Pilate is reported differently in each gospel and shows how doctrinal and apologetic motifs shape the content of the narrative. In Matthew, when Pilate asks Jesus if he is the King of the Jews, Jesus simply says, “You say so.” Apart from that Jesus says nothing to defend himself. Matthew concludes “the governor was greatly amazed.” Matthew makes an attempt to portray Pilate as a sympathetic governor. The actual fact is that Pilate was a brutal governor who would not have concerned himself with a Jewish prisoner. The story of Barabbas is a legend that has been inserted by each Evangelist for purposes congruent with his own point of view. The legend might have originally been motivated by the name, for Barabbas means “son of Abbas,” or “son of the father.” Here it is Pilate who asks whether they want him to release Jesus Barabbas instead of Jesus. There was no Roman tradition of amnesty for prisoners on days of Jewish festivals. No Roman governor would release a condemned prisoner. The demand from the crowds would have no effect on them. In any case, crowds would never be permitted at a Roman trial. The Evangelists, beginning with Mark, found in this legend a way to accommodate Roman authorities. Matthew is the only one to show Barabbas’ first name as “Jesus,” that is, “Jesus, son of the father.” The high priest encouraged the crowds to demand the release of Barabbas who is described simply as a “notorious prisoner.” Matthew intends to use this legend of Barabbas to place the burden of conviction on the Jews. Pilate as the Roman governor must have in mind first and foremost the interest of Rome. The fate of a Jewish prisoner was of no consequence to him.

Other important legends played into this, the dream of Pilate’s wife and the washing of his hands. Both of these legends absolve Pilate of guilt. While the trial was in progress, Pilate’s wife sent him word “Have nothing to do with this innocent man, for today I have suffered a great deal because of a dream about him.” Matthew uses Pilate’s wife as a neutral observer and witness to the innocence of Jesus. When he delivers Jesus to the Jews, he is convinced that he has delivered an innocent man to them. He washed his hands publicly, in view of the crowds, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Not only is Jesus innocent according to Pilate’s wife; Pilate now announces his own innocence. He and Rome are thereby declared innocent of the fate of Jesus. Any guilt for his death is upon the Jews. This is confirmed in verse 25. “Then the people as a whole answered, ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’” This verse is motivated by Pilate’s declaration of his own innocence and belongs to the legend of the washing of hands. The statement has no basis in fact. It serves Matthew’s purpose of absolving Rome of any guilt in the death of Jesus. Pilate then released Barabbas and handed over Jesus to the crowds “to be crucified,” just as the crowds demanded in 27: 22-23. The fate of Jesus is now completely in the hands of the Jews. It was important for Matthew’s audience to see that the divine submits to human judgment and punishment. It is not meant to cause distress in the church, but rather to encourage them to face persecution with the same sense of mission, courage and faith as Jesus did. Catholic Biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan refers to the trail in Mark as “consummate theological fictions.” One must hear the message not only in the fiction, for that is all that is before us; one must hear the message beyond the fiction. Each story has an excess of meanings, and there is a redemptive meaning here for all who have ears to hear. Certainly these stories are compositions and reconstructions, and Crossan offers this caution. “If you cannot believe in something produced by reconstruction, you may have nothing left to believe in.”

The incident reported in 27:27-31 is not historical fact. But Matthew has placed that verse in the mouths of the Jewish leaders, and he has a purpose for this. His audience is Hellenistic Christian, Jewish Christian and non-Jewish such as the Canaanite woman and the Roman Centurion. His message at the early stage of the church was anti-Jewish as he wanted his church to be theologically and doctrinally different from Judaism. In the history of the interpretation of this verse, it has been repeatedly misused for anti-Semitic slander and prejudice. This was never Matthew’s intention. Crossan calls this incident a “magnificent theological fiction.” Nevertheless, the incident needs to be explored to uncover its purpose in this context. Jesus has just been declared innocent by Pilate, yet he is subjected to maltreatment by Roman soldiers right in their barracks. The mock forms regal garments, crown and scepter seem to be an attempt by the church to point to the redeemer being despised and rejected. The meaning beyond the mockery is that the mockery itself is a revelation of the kingship of God as this is presented in the person of Jesus. One of the functions of fiction is to reveal the human condition as a state of existential anxiety in the face of meaninglessness and death. Anxiety motivates the search for meaning. Theological fiction subscribes to that view also while at the same time it presents a framework within which the quest is carried out and answers revealed. The mocking and spitting arose as a reflection on Isaiah 50:6 and Psalm 22 and then became embedded in the Passion story. The message throughout the history of the church is that the redeemer suffered at the hands of sinful people; that he “became obedient unto death” and that was part of the price to be paid for the redemption of the world.

On the way to the crucifixion, the soldiers compelled Simon of Cyrene to carry the cross for Jesus. Since the earliest traditions do no normally name persons it must be assumed that this incident has been created for a specific purpose. It lends vivid imagery to the procession. It creates the impression of an eye-witness account. Cyrene, an important Roman city, is a long distance away, on the very northern coast of Libya. The early Church might have been saying that the story of Jesus is not only a local story. It reaches far beyond Jerusalem. Matthew is teaching his young Church that at times it will be necessary for strangers to share in their suffering. Again, let it not be lost to sight that it is the soldiers who recruit Simon to bear the cross. Fiction often operates at an unconscious depth that when brought to light reveals the truth behind it. The enemies of Jesus by their own actions confirm the identity and mission of Jesus. Perhaps even Matthew was unaware of how deeply the divine was embedded in this story as the one who was enabling the movement of redemption. The divine knows no strangers, only seekers. Seekers will be brought into the church and will bear the cross as everyone else. The missionary enterprise of Matthew 28 will bear this out.

Before the crucifixion, the soldiers offered Jesus wine to drink which he refused because of its taste. Mark and Matthew differ as to what substance was in the wine. Again, Matthew is demonstrating that Jesus assumes the pain of sin in its completeness. Jesus has been presented as the divine, the Son of God, the Messiah throughout the gospel. He does not need to take a pain reliever for his suffering. Then it says simply, “they crucified him.” There is no special description here of the process of crucifixion. It was not necessary. Matthew’s audience would have been completely aware of the nature of a crucifixion. A simple sign was placed on the cross: “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” Then the soldiers sat down and kept watch.

The narrative then reports that two bandits were crucified on either side of Jesus, by reason of the interpretation of Psalm 22. It indicates that the crucifixion of Jesus was of no greater importance to the Romans than the two obscure bandits. The ordinariness of the event seemed settled until people passing by began to deride Jesus. Immediately, Jesus stood out from among the three crucified as one deserving attention. Again, according to Matthew’s method, strangers point to Jesus. The deriders said, “You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself. If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” It is clear that the bystanders have no idea why Jesus was condemned and crucified. They put an old charge in his mouth that had nothing to do with his trial. Pilate himself found nothing of which to convict him. Yet there is a purpose to the taunts of the bystanders. They prove the historical fact of the crucifixion! Matthew has constructed this scene carefully to show that it is not the followers of Jesus who are bearing testimony to the crucifixion. They are nowhere to be found in any case. The enemies of Jesus are presented as eye-witnesses who can testify to what happened. Among those enemies Matthew names “the chief priests also, along with the scribes and the elders,” who were there as part of the crowd that was mocking Jesus. Both the Jewish authorities and the anonymous crowds witness the crucifixion. Even the bandits mocked him. 27:44. In Matthew’s view the sacred and secular worlds conspired against the divine. In consequence of this, the church will be seen as a gathering of strangers and exiles standing against these authorities as a characteristic of Christian life.

The scene then shifts to the events surrounding the death of Jesus as presented in 27:45-54. The upheaval in nature suggests that this event has the character of a theophany as was seen oftentimes in the Old Testament. The curtains in the temple were torn, dead were raised, something that would also take place at the resurrection of Jesus. As with other scenes in the Passion narrative, the death scene is also a legend shaped by reflection on Psalm 22 among others, and created for the purpose of developing a redemptive history in which Matthew’s congregation is able to participate. Bultmann calls this gospel a Catechism or Teaching Book. Matthew is teaching his congregation that the death of Jesus brings in the end times when those in the graves will be restored to life and a new world will come into being. As with other gospels, Matthew is teaching that history comes to an end in the death of Jesus and that the church exists in an eschatological age. History has become eschatology.

As darkness descended upon the world, the selfsame darkness that existed before the creation of the world in Genesis, Jesus began to speak with a loud voice. But this time it is not the “Let there be!” of Genesis. This time, Jesus cries out in the words of Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Matthew has repeatedly presented Jesus as the Son of God, and as the Son of Man through whom God will inaugurate the eschatological age. The cry of abandonment from the cross cannot be understood from a point in history. It is legend, not history, and only as legend can it be understood. Matthew has to make it clear to his audience that it is God alone who has initiated these events, and this he does my putting the words of Psalm 22 into the mouth of Jesus, “My God, my God!” The invocation of God makes God present. Matthew has Jesus testify that this is a divine work, that God alone is creating the world anew as a place where redemptive life is possible. The onlookers did not understand the cry of Jesus. They believed that he was calling upon Elijah to rescue him. Let it be remembered that it is Matthew who is putting words into the mouths of the onlookers. He uses this means to tell his story. Even this thought of the onlookers subscribes to the idea that the events of the death of Jesus have their origin in the Old Testament. Malachi 4:5-6, says, “I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, so that I will not come and strike the world with a curse.” At this point Jesus cried out loudly again and then died.

At the moment of the death of Jesus the curtains of the temple were torn in two. These curtains, according to Exodus 26:31-35, served the special purpose of preserving the integrity and sanctity of the holy of holies, the throne room of the divine to which John was brought in Revelation 1. The curtain itself symbolized sacred space. Matthew is teaching that henceforth the temple is no longer the sacred space of the divine. Rev. 21:22.The death of Jesus brought the divine from hiding. It is now in the open, and it will be present wherever the cross exists. In the death of Jesus the divine manifests itself to the world. That is why the death of Jesus is accompanied by signs that are related to theophany in the Old Testament, such as Exodus 19. The death of Jesus, like his birth, is the new theophany; that is why “he shall be called Emmanuel.”

“The earth shook and the rocks were split.” The death of Jesus affected heaven and earth and under the earth. The world was plunged into darkness. The earth shook and the rocks were split, and the earthquakes so severe that graves were opened and “many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised to life.” The idea here is that nothing in all of nature remains untouched with the Lord brings about the new creation. To this is added, as if by way of recollection, “After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many.” It is clear that this verse does not belong here. It must have been part of a resurrection story that has been placed here because of its affinity with the rest of the legend.

The centurion and others there exclaimed, “Truly this man was God’s son.” Matthew has often used the stranger and the outsider to proclaim this message. He was introducing strangers and outsiders to a new way of life, a new faith. To proclaim that Jesus is the Son of God has been his one and only objective. He has brought his readers on a theological and spiritual adventure, beginning with three strangers coming from a distant land to see the child and to worship him.

He has welcomed many strangers along the way, and made them a part of his story. In the end he presented Jesus as himself a stranger dying in the midst of strangers and foreigners for the salvation of the world.

John 11:1-45 – Lazarus

“Bring us, O Lord, at our last awakening, into the house and gate of heaven, to enter into that gate and dwell in that house where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling but one equal light; no noise nor silence but one equal music; no fears nor hopes but one equal possession; no ends nor beginnings but one equal eternity, in the habitations of thy majesty and thy glory, for ever and ever. Amen.” John Donne

This story of Lazarus who was raised from the dead by Jesus is told only by John. It is a dramatic presentation of how a family’s meaning is transformed through their encounter with tragedy. Lazarus is even a subsidiary character; his death provides the occasion for the exploration of his family’s grief and their consolation in the coming forth of new life. He is not to be confused with the Lazarus of Luke 16: 19-31. John’s story may be a local legend, probably associated with Bethany, alongside the legend of the anointing by Mary. Both of these stories have in view the death and resurrection of Jesus. The greater significance of this miracle (sign) may be seen against the background of the healing on the blind man in chapter 9. There the blind man himself exclaimed, “Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind.” 9:32. I suggested there that giving sight to the blind is qualitatively giving life to him. The one born blind lived all his life in a place of deep darkness; Lazarus in death may be said to take up residence in the same place. I will point out later that Jesus’ command, “Lazarus, come out!” has the same force as the Genesis 1 story of God’s command, “Let there be!” The Evangelist John is presenting the narrative of Lazarus as a drama in which the new creation has begun and the coming forth of the eschatological moment into the present testifies to this. This narrative is another example of the idea that the End is the Beginning returning to itself. John introduces this narrative of death and resurrection as the factor that initiates the Passion and leads Jesus to the Cross. 11:53.

The story begins by locating Lazarus within his family and community. It is quite unusual that people are named in miracle stories. He is from Bethany; his sisters are Martha and Mary. The two sisters will appear again in the legend of the anointing at Bethany in chapter 12. They appeared in Luke 10:38-42 without their brother, in a village that was not named. There is a curious statement here. “Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair.” 11:2. It is curious because the event of the anointing has not yet taken place! Apart from this chapter, and 6:22, Jesus is not referred to as Lord until Mary Magdalen announces him as such in 20:18 after his resurrection. Lord is a Christological title, and in this case it is associated with the resurrection. Why is the statement placed here? Does this mean that the raising of Lazarus did not occur until after the anointing by Mary, and is misplaced here? It would make sense if the raising of Lazarus, the last of the signs that Jesus performed in this Gospel, came immediately before the entry into Jerusalem, as the precipitating factor for the Passion. In Mark and Matthew the anointing took place two days before Passover. In John, it is six days before Passover. This would allow time for the event of the raising of Lazarus, if indeed this came after the anointing. Then it would suggest that Lazarus’ illness and death were sudden. Jesus and his disciples would have left Bethany right after the anointing, only to return four days later after the death and burial of Lazarus. 11:17. Again, this would put Jesus in Bethany two days before the Passover in agreement with Mark and Matthew. However, time for John is theological rather than chronological, and it is difficult to draw conclusions here on the significance of the two different theological meanings of history between John and the Synoptic gospels.

My reasoning does not resolve the problem. It becomes more complicated when we read in the story of the anointing, about “Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.”12:1. This makes it look like the anointing came after the raising of Lazarus. The two stories cannot be reconciled on this point. The easiest answer is that an editor inserted 11:2 from a later time to connect the two stories.

But to return to our story, Lazarus is ill. His sisters sent word to Jesus saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” He and his disciples were not in Judea at the time. Jesus received the message and knew the deeper meaning behind the illness. This is not a sickness unto death; its purpose is for the glory of the Lord. We saw the same motive in the blindness of the blind man in chapter 9. John has begun the gradual revelation of the glorification of Jesus that will be completed in his own death and resurrection.

Even though Jesus loved this family, 11:5, he did not respond to their call for help immediately. He stayed with his disciples two more days before leaving. This reminds me of his response to his mother at the wedding at Cana. “My hour has not come.” 2.4. The work of the Redeemer has a schedule that is known only to himself. He alone will decide when to act. There is another motive according to John. The late arrival of Jesus after the death of Lazarus is “so that you may believe.” 11:15. The disciples need to be witnesses to the raising of Lazarus so that their faith may be confirmed. But the return to Judea was not without its problems. The disciples were afraid to return because they remembered their last stay there resulted in the threat of being stoned to death.10:31. Jesus responded to them with a statement that seems to be a proverb. He must do his work while it is daylight, that is, he has only twelve hours in which to complete his work. The 12 hours may not be interpreted numerically. Put another way, the time is short. Jesus is focusing on a particular time, his “hour” which is arriving, in which his own destiny is sealed. After he explains that Lazarus is dead and that they will go to him, Thomas replied, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” In the view of Thomas, when Jesus returns to Judea he is returning to face his death. When they arrived in Bethany there is no mention of the disciples anymore. The focus is entirely on Jesus and the miracle he is about to perform.

When Jesus arrived he learned that Lazarus has been interred for four days already. This idea heightened the significance of the miracle, for there is no doubt that Lazarus is really and truly dead. The “four days” may already indicate an ancient understanding of death and burial where the soul of the deceased lingered in the neighborhood of the body for three days before departing this world. From this perspective, it was completely impossible for Lazarus to be raised from the dead.

Mary and Martha were being consoled by the Jews who had come from Jerusalem. This seems to be the normal religious practice when death has occurred in a family. It shows that this is indeed a religious family. It may also indicate their high socio-economic status. Martha meets Jesus and says, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will grant you whatever you ask of him.” 11:21. This is how Martha expresses her grief. She acknowledges the death of her brother, yet at the same time she believes that Jesus can reverse this through the power of prayer, in that “God will grant you whatever you ask of him.” She takes comfort in the power of Jesus. Jesus has the power to heal her grief. Martha’s understanding of the power of prayer reflects that of the early church. Mt. 6:6; 7:7-8. Jesus assures her that her brother will rise from the dead, to which she replies that she knows that he will be raised on the last day. Resurrection was already a part of the faith of the Jewish community. It is clear that Martha believes that Jesus has power over; illness that he is a healer, as she says, “if you had been here my brother would not have died.” I am not sure that she believes that Jesus has the power to raise the dead. Just as he revealed himself to Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman and the blind man, now Jesus reveals himself to Martha. “I am the resurrection and the life.” Jesus is saying that in him the last day has arrived already, and that her belief in the resurrection will find fulfilment even now. Death belongs to an age that is passing and in Jesus life is now a present reality. That Jesus is the resurrection means that something new has dawned for humanity: life is possible only in the resurrection. Martha is learning that “resurrection” and “life” are identical. But the full healing of her grief is yet to come.

Life is not the opposite of death. Birth is the opposite of death. Life is its own definition in this context. Death is seen as the status that prevails when life is absent. John can use life as a word that takes its understanding from birth. Jesus says to Nicodemus, unless you are born of the spirit you will not see the kingdom of heaven. “Born of the Spirit” is then how John defines life, for “to see the kingdom of heaven” means to have eternal life. When God says “Let there be!” in Genesis, God commands creation to emerge from primordial nothingness and darkness. God is able to bring life and living things from that primal darkness. God’s “Let there be!” is the bringing to birth of living things.

Birth is the emergence from darkness; death is the return to darkness. When Jesus says “Lazarus, come out!” he is commanding Lazarus to emerge from darkness into the light, that is, he is giving Lazarus new birth, for light and life are identical in this Gospel. Lazarus can return to the kingdom of light. When Jesus tells his disciples that Lazarus “has fallen asleep,” he is saying that sleep and death have something in common. Sleep is a going forth from this world temporarily. One returns upon awakening. Jesus is telling his disciples that sleep and death are both temporary states of existence. One can emerge from both of these into the kingdom of light. Life is what occurs between birth and death. Life is experience shaped by faith and lived under the dominion of the Spirit. One does not have to die to receive the gift of resurrection, for “everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” 11:26. Resurrection is not simply the emergence from the grave. More appropriately, resurrection is leaving behind the world of darkness and death. “Very truly, I tell you, the hour is coming, and now is, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live.” 5:25. When Martha hears the affirmation of her faith, she responds, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” 11:27. In this one statement are three Christological titles: Lord, Messiah, and Son of God. In Martha’s words, we get a glimpse into the confessional faith of the developing church. That Jesus is the Messiah is already a part of the faith of the early church. Mark 8:29; Matthew 16: 16; Luke 9:20. The difference here is that John identifies Jesus as “the one coming into the world.” John is making the point again that in Jesus the eschatological moment has arrived, the new world is coming to birth, and it is characterized by resurrection and life. See the way this is presented in Revelation 1:8.

The next stage of the drama brings Mary onto the stage. She is not alone as the Jews who were comforting her in the house came with her because they thought she was going to the tomb to weep. Instead, she went to where Jesus was. She knelt at his feet when she arrived. There is a tradition of Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus so this is not strange. She repeats what Martha had said earlier, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” The fact that Mary knelt at his feet and addressed him as Lord discloses this as an act of worship. We have seen others fall at the feet of Jesus before: the leper in Matthew 8:2-3; the Gerasene demoniac in Mark 5:6; Peter at the large catch of fish in Luke 5:8; Jairus in Luke 8:41; the woman with the blood flow in Luke 8:47; the one of ten lepers who returned in Luke 17:16, and the women at the tomb in Mt.28:9. When Moses ended his proclamation of the Passover, “the people bowed down and worshiped.” (Exodus 12:27). What Mary does is an act of devotion. It is an act of worship. This is how it would have been understood by the Jews who accompanied her. Martha had not taken this position. She entered into a dialogue with Jesus about the resurrection. Mary brought her grief to the feet of Jesus. Martha invoked traditional beliefs. Mary weeps at his feet as did another woman a long time ago. Shortly, Mary will anoint his feet and dry them with her hair.

Jesus saw that Mary was weeping, as were the Jews who came with her. The outward grief of a village had an effect on him. “He was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.” Surrounded by grief, Jesus felt an internal spiritual and emotional upheaval. Grief is a lived experience of the total person. It is a fundamental state of existence of human beings. Grief is what overtakes us when death, the complete Otherness of life, emerges from its silent abode in flesh and blood and bones. Death and grief are always already fundamental modes of who we are. In them are grounded that human essence of alienation, the utter isolation from grace. Death wrenches from us every aspect of relationship by which we define ourselves. It is outer darkness of existence from which none can hope to return. The divine itself trembles before it. To redeem humanity from this state of complete oblivion, the divine must take into itself death and its otherness. Thus Christ will humble himself and become obedient unto death, gathering up all death in an instant, and in this way setting humanity upon a new course of freedom. So Jesus gathered Martha and Mary into himself in an instant standing before the tomb of their brother. They disappear from the narrative. Jesus often demonstrated his capacity for empathy with those who suffered. He knew the cause of their grief was Lazarus’ death, and so he asked, “Where have you laid him?” As they were on the way, Jesus began to weep. He has fully joined them in their grief. This is much more than an expression of empathetic solidarity with this family that he loved. Jesus as the Logos that had left its own abode to dwell with humanity knows what it is not to be “at home.” This is the state of existence of Lazarus. Through death, he is not “at home.” Jesus grieves with the sisters and with Lazarus.

Along the way, some questioned why Jesus did not keep Lazarus from dying. He certainly had the power to do so as evidenced by the healing of the blind man. John wants to demonstrate that what moves this tragic drama is a dialogue between faith and faithlessness. He maintains this dialogue so that when the miracle does take place it is heightened and silences the faithless. Jesus himself might have been disturbed by such faithlessness. He is agitated as he arrived at the tomb. It seemed to be an ordinary cave, the entrance to which was covered by a stone. The scene is a portrait of tragedy: life outside; death within. The stone seemed to be a boundary between life and death. Is not Jesus himself the stone which the builders rejected? He, too, is a boundary beyond which darkness and death cannot advance. Jesus asks that the stone be removed, and his request is met with objection from none other than Martha. Martha emphasizes the decay of the body and reminds the audience that Lazarus has been dead four days. Her statement serves John’s purpose, to take an impossible situation and impose upon it the power of God. Martha can speak only from a position of “this world.” Jesus speaks as the resurrection and the life.

Jesus reminds Martha that he told her if she believed she would see the power of God demonstrated. When the stone was removed, Jesus, looking upward, prayed, “Father, I thank you for having heard me, but I have said this for the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” Jesus does not ask the Father to raise Lazarus from the dead. His prayer is one of gratitude that the Father hears him. What Jesus says is for the benefit of the crowd standing by. They will believe that God has sent him only through a miracle. The sending of the Son is the empowerment of the Son. This is a theme that is repeated throughout this Gospel. Just as the Father has heard Jesus, so now Lazarus will hear him. In a loud voice Jesus commands, “Lazarus, come out!” Here we see the divine demonstrating its power over life and death. The divine has not ceased creating. Where Jesus stands, that is the place where creation continues to take place, because he is the one through whom all things were made. The voice of Jesus, the Father’s voice, moves through the darkness and brings Lazarus into the light. The dead man, no longer bound by death, but still bound by the human wrappings of death, emerges into the light of day. Who is this that emerges from the tomb? There is no way to identify this person as Lazarus. Even his sisters would not be able to identify him. They are no longer a part of the drama. John does not mention them again here.

The drama now transcends the human dimension. What is taking place no longer happens in the sphere of history; what happens from now on takes place in the domain of faith. The one who emerges from the tomb is wrapped in bands, his face covered by a cloth. The one who is raised from the dead, remains hidden from sight, just as later Jesus will not be recognized when he emerges from the tomb. John is communicating to his audience that the resurrection is not an event that is visible to sight. This is crucial for understanding the Gospel as a whole. The One who descended from the Father remains hidden as the One who abides in Jesus. The resurrection is not a matter for sight; it is not a matter of history. It is the eschatological moment of the dawning of the new creation, and this is perceived only by faith. Faith in God cannot be supported by proof. No one can prove that the one who emerges from the tomb is Lazarus. To emphasize this, John removes Martha and Mary from the rest of the drama. When Eve is created in the Genesis story, Adam is first put to sleep. Eyes cannot behold the creative work of the divine. When Adam awakens from sleep he is no longer what he used to be. He is now the ground of his other Self, no longer alone. When Adam emerges from his sleep what comes into view in a new world. The divine has absorbed the loneliness of the old. The same idea prevails here. Humanity is blinded to the fact of the resurrection; it is a matter that can be grasped only by faith. The divine has absorbed death into itself. The divine has brought life again where life was not. It is yet again creation from nothing. Now there can be no doubt as to who Jesus is. “I and the Father are one.”

Jesus says, “Unbind him, and let him go.” This is how the drama ends. Even resurrection legends cannot pierce the veil of mystery that shrouds the coming forth of new life. I am reminded of 8:37. “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

I began this study with a prayer of John Donne. It is a prayer that shows how divisions are transcended by the divine which is itself and alone the place of unity. Donne is aware that “at our last awakening” we shall abide in one equal light, one equal music, one equal possession, one equal eternity. That abode, and it alone, is the resurrection and the life.