Soliloquy

John 9:1-41

So much the rather thou, celestial Light,                                                                                   Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers                                                         Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence                                                                      Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell                                                                                     Of things invisible to mortal sight.                                                                                                                                                               John Milton

In chapter 8 Jesus revealed himself as light. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” 8:12. John is again using Gnostic ideas, light and darkness, death and life, to present Jesus as the one who was sent as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The world, which is a part of “all things,” belongs to him. “All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life; the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” 1:3-5. He has come to save what he created in the beginning. The essential ideas of John’s theological anthropology were laid out in the Prologue. In everything that follows throughout the Gospel, the human being is disclosed as to its nature, which is darkness, unbelief, and how this was the occasion for the descent of the Son into flesh. He must enter the dominion of unbelief, the existence of the human in its myriad manifestations, to redeem it. The divine must become other than itself to accomplish all things “for us and for our salvation.” The human being is the Otherness of the divine. The blind man who lives in darkness is a metaphor for “world,” the antagonist of light. In chapter 9 John shows how the Logos continues to create “the life which is the light of all people.”

The miracle of restoring sight to the man who was born blind recalls another such story in the gospel of Mark. There are significant parallels also to the miracle of healing in John 5. In John 9, the miracle initiates a series of dialogues that John uses to reveal the Logos as it continues to vanquish darkness, which is sin and death, and to bring life where life was not. This miracle is an essential part of John’s theological anthropology. The Evangelist Matthew says, “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness.” Mt. 6:22-23. This is an example of how the Synoptic gospels understand anthropology. Blindness, which is the same as darkness, is the content of unbelief or sin. In John, the question as to whose sin caused the man’s blindness points to a more ancient anthropology. “I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents.” Ex. 20:5. Illness and disease were not merely somatic disturbances; they were punishment for sin. Jesus rejects this ancient anthropology. The man’s blindness is not the result of sin. For John, sin is unbelief. 8:24; 16: 8-11. It is the rejection of the light, antagonism towards life, for “people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”

Jesus does not speak of the origin of this man’s blindness, but of its purpose, “he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” 9:3. What John means by “God’s works” is seen at the Marriage at Cana where Jesus “revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” The same idea occurs again in the illness of Lazarus. “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” 11:4. God’s works are events and signs that reveal the glory of God. John is even more precise than this. “The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works.” 14:10. The work of God is identical to the word of Jesus. In the preaching of Jesus the work of God is accomplished. Miracles as signs are also to be seen as the word of Jesus, for through the signs Jesus declares that the Father has sent him with this message. Simon Peter’s answer to Jesus is significant. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” 6:68-69.

An exegesis of verses 4-5 is almost impossible. These verses do not make any sense in this context, and may have been added by a later redactor. They interrupt the flow between 3 and 6. The “we” very early presented much difficulty and many early manuscripts have “I”. It is also difficult to understand who belongs to the “we.” It certainly cannot mean the Father and Jesus, inspite of 5:17. It cannot mean the disciples, for Jesus alone is doing “the work of him who sent me.”  The “we” is not consistent with the “me.”  The original reading certainly would have been “I.” Furthermore, the verse describes the work of Jesus as temporary, “while it is day; night is coming when no one can work.” A further constraint is seen in “As long as I am in the world.” Day and night may symbolize light and darkness. This would be incongruent with “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” 1:5. Does the Son of God who descended as the light, cease to be the light of the world when he ascends again? These are difficult issues that need to be sorted out with a more rigorous exegesis than I can offer.

Verses 6-7 present the healing of the blind man and verses 8-13 the consequences. This is not unlike the miracle reported in Mark 8:23. The miracle consists of action (anointing the eyes with mud) and word, “Go and wash in the pool of Siloam.” I am reminded of the healing of the ten lepers in Luke. Jesus said, “Go and show yourselves to the priest, and as they went they were healed.” Luke 17:14. See also the healing of Naaman the Syrian in II Kings 5. There appears to be a play on the word “sent.” Jesus has been “sent” by the Father; the meaning of Siloam is “sent.”  I have pointed out in the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman that the sending of the disciples, the church, is established on the foundation of the sending of the Son. Sending is active apostleship. The blind man is sent to a pool called “sent.” Jesus is also “living water” that can give life. The blind man receives his sight when he washes in the pool of Siloam. Sight is light, and light is life. Is this a result of “water and the word?” In receiving his sight, the blind man now lives in the light, which is the definition of new life. In John’s anthropology, the Logos brings with itself the Beginning, and pours it into the Now. Creation is now the active process of redemption. Eschatology no longer hails the present from a distant future. Eschatology no longer inhabits a future horizon, the joining of heaven and earth, above and below. Eschatology is drawn into the present, and the horizon is the place where Jesus stands. In him the new has dawned as if for the first time. In Jesus, the End is the Beginning returning to itself as the New Creation.

In this gospel there are many modes of seeing. There is normal sight that perceives things in the natural world where darkness prevails in spite of sunlight. There is also the vision that pierces the darkness and perceives Jesus as the Holy One of God. 6:69. The man who is healed says “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” 9:25. However, his restoration is not yet complete. He can see, but he does not yet understand.  Later, in 35-38 Jesus will reveal himself as the Son of Man, and the healed man will say, “Lord, I believe.” The Son of Man is present; the eschatological moment has arrived. The ground for faith has been prepared. This is a movement from seeing to vision. In John, this kind of sight is nothing other than faith.

This extraordinary event caused some consternation among the people who had known the blind man all his life. It was a unique event. As he said later, “Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind.” 9:32. People could not believe their own eyes. They questioned him intently, the consequence of which is first, that he had to identify himself. The healing has made him into something that he was not. Just as the Logos in assuming flesh became other than it was, so the blind man is now other than he was, and he has to define himself with this new understanding. Secondly, the blind man having received the gift of sight now testifies to Jesus. He speaks openly of Jesus, like Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman. He speaks openly not only to his neighbors, but also to the religious authorities, the Pharisees, telling them that Jesus “is a prophet.” 9:17.

It is not clear who the “they” is who brought him to the Pharisees in 9:13-17.  It is likely the neighbors. The action in this section shifts to Jesus. Who is he? What did he do? Why did he do it on the Sabbath? The religious authorities view Jesus as a sinner because he broke the Sabbath laws. Others challenged this view and nothing was settled until the witness said, “He is a prophet.” This still does not convince the authorities. They did not believe that he was the man who was born blind. In verse 13 it is the Pharisees who carry on the interrogation of the man; in verse 18, it is the Jews who interrogate the parents. This change of terminology does not affect the internal meaning of the episode, which is that the unbelieving world cannot “see” the work of the Messiah. When the parents are interrogated in 9:18-23, they affirm ((a) that this is indeed their son who was born blind; (b) they do not know how he now sees or who caused him to see. They referred the interrogators to their son who can speak for himself because he is of age. The parents are portrayed as acting in their own interest because they did not want to be cast out of the synagogue. The identity of the man has been established, but the problem of the miracle that breaks the Sabbath laws is still unresolved.

The Pharisees may be commended for their persistence. Having failed with his parents, they now summoned their son a second time to be interrogated. They demand, “Give glory to God.” Perhaps this was a way of shaming the man into changing his testimony. In effect they are saying to him, “Tell the truth. We know that this man is a sinner.” What they “know” is refuted by what he “knows.” He says, “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”  The knowledge that the authorities possess is still knowledge in the dominion of darkness. Their eyes belong to the world of sarx, they cannot perceive the domain of pneuma. They are the world that does not receive the Son, therefore they cannot “know” the Son. They would need of knowledge is faith.

There is considerable debate in which the man holds firmly to his testimony. The Pharisees emphasize their authority and their certainty on the basis of tradition. They are disciples of Moses. They know that God spoke to Moses. Like the Samaritan woman, their tradition is the ultimate judge of the rightness of their position. The man reminded them of the “astonishing” fact of the miracle which he believes to be enough proof that God has granted Jesus the power to perform miracles. The Pharisees insist that they “do not know where he is from.” The man answers, “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” Behind this debate John is pointing out that in the eschatological moment, in this time when the new creation is coming into being, the Son does arrive with a sword that brings division. Two perspectives, the flesh and the spirit, are struggling for vindication. Two types of humanity, those who belong to darkness and those who belong to the light, are involved in the travail that will bring to birth the new creation. In the presence of the redeemer, one must choose.

The Pharisees will not concede their position. Their anger at the man emerges. “You were born entirely in sins, and are you trying to teach us?” All along they were denying this man who is healed could not have been the man born blind, because that man’s blindness disclosed that he was born in sin. Now, in their anger, they announce that he was born entirely in sins. They finally acknowledge that he is, indeed, the man born blind. And this immediately makes the miracle a greater problem for them. Where does Jesus get the power to heal the blind? They cannot see that this is the sign that the eschatological age has dawned in the person of the Son. In Matthew 11:4-6, Jesus sends word to John in prison. “Go and tell John what you hear and see:

The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and to poor have the good news brought to them.” All that pertains to this world where  darkness reigns, is transcended. Jesus the divine horizon is the place where healing happens. He who has come with a sword is at the same time the one who has come to heal. The Pharisees remain unconvinced. “And they drove him out.” The man suffered the fate that his parents feared for themselves. 9:22. He was exiled from their world.

The next in the series of dialogues, 9:35-38, takes place between Jesus and the man. Jesus had heard that he was thrown out and he found him. Jesus asks, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The man wants to know who that is, so that he may believe. It is then that Jesus reveals himself to him. “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.”  This is how Jesus revealed himself to the Samaritan woman. This is another way of saying that the eschatological moment is the present moment. Only time that has been transformed, sacralized, by the presence of the Son is capable of being redeeming time. The man can now say, “Lord, I believe.” Faith is immediately followed by worship. John has shown how this man emerged from the world of darkness into the light of the world. He may be a metaphor for the transformation of the world from flesh to spirit. Jesus completes the dialogue with a kind of summary statement. “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.”9:39. The theme of judgment has already appeared from the Prologue onwards. The content of the judgment is that the present status of the human being is confronted and changed. Those who are blind now see, and those who have sight become blind. The same thought is reflected in Matthew 11:4-6. Jesus does not seem to be speaking to a particular group. The message that John wants to convey is that everyone exists in a state of blindness, that is, darkness, until confronted by the person and message of the redeemer.  “And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and the people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.” 3:19. Once confronted, everyone must make a decision for or against the redeemer. The choice is to live in darkness or to live in the light.

His statement about judgment was overheard by the Pharisees, and this introduces the last in the series of dialogues. (:40-41. They ask him, “Surely we are not blind, are we?” They think because they can see with their eyes they are not blind. They do not understand that blindness is the condition under which all unredeemed humanity exists. Jesus tells them, “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now you say ‘we see’ your sin remains.”  Jesus reinforces the idea that sin is not the result of blindness. The Pharisees still do not understand this. They do not realize that all who live in this world live in the sphere of sin. They remain oblivious to sin, and in that oblivion, their insistence on their own sight, their sin remains. They continue to resist and oppose the Son of Man who is the light of the world. Consequently, they continue to abide in the darkness.

Blind Milton, Blind Teiresias, Blind Oedipus, all were able to see into the heart and soul of humanity. They refuse to be confined by their dramatic roles, as poet and characters. They rise from their written lines, transcending the absurdity of human existence, to offer an ever enlarging hope, an optimism born of tragedy, to a humanity at home in its own tragic destiny. They want to see and to tell us “Of things invisible to mortal sight.”

LENT III – “A Thing Eternal”

John 4: 5-42

Trees that sing

dry out all fall;

tranquil mountains

age into plains.

But the song of water

is a thing eternal.

Federico García Lorca

The story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman calls for careful study and reflection to uncover the message that John is proclaiming. There are literary and stylistic similarities between chapter 3 and chapter 4. In 3, Jesus enters into a religious dialogue with Nicodemus; Jesus reveals himself to him; the message of Jesus is passed on to others. In 4, Jesus enters into a religious dialogue with the Samaritan woman; he reveals himself to her as Messiah; the message is then taken to others. Both chapters emphasize that the mission of the church is established upon the foundation of the mission of Jesus. It is important for the mission of the church that Jesus reveals himself to males and females. The inner message of the revelation is that no one is excluded from the salvation which God makes available in the Son. This message is taken from Jerusalem to all parts of the world, and every nation can now hear the gospel. See Acts 2, the message of Pentecost. This mission is made clear in the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman.

Jesus is on his way to Galilee. 4:3. The journey is motivated perhaps by reason of safety, because the Pharisees had heard of his baptizing activities which was not pleasing to them. He is passing through the region of Samaria, and by noon one day he stops in the town of Sychar because he was tired and thirsty. He stops for water at Jacob’s well. The name of the well and the description surrounding it may be a local tradition as it is not attested elsewhere. Perhaps the intention is to emphasize that the Samaritans had a history and tradition relating to Jacob. The well is the scene of encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman. His disciples are not with him at the moment. Jesus going through Samaria is the story of the missionary enterprise of the church through the ages. It is the drama of salvation enacted in word and deed, using the estranged soul of human beings as the stage upon which the action takes place. But first, the savior of the world must find the entrance onto that stage. The human soul is a forbidding place. It is what grounds the human being to this earth. It does not easily render itself up. It seldom knows that it is an eternal place of conflict. The soul is the human being in its entirety, the gathering place of all history and culture, all that defines the human. The soul is the ultimate guardian of what is fully and truly human. “What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”

The drama begins when a woman of Samaria comes to draw water. Jesus asks her for a drink. She replied by asking Jesus how is it that a Jewish man is asking a Samaritan woman for a drink. Something about Jesus told the woman that he is a Jew. Her question reflects a tradition that Jews and Samaritans did not get along as is seen in the second part of 4:9. In Mt. 10:5 Jesus told his disciples not to enter any Samaritan town. In Luke 9:52 the Samaritans refused to welcome his disciples. In that cultural context, I would have expected at least that the rules of hospitality to have prevailed over cultural differences. John certainly had something quite different in mind as he prepared the scene for the dialogue. While she recognized Jesus as a Jew, in 4:10 he says to her, if you really knew me you would be asking me for living water. Jesus is much more than how he is perceived, as Nicodemus discovered earlier. He does not address her question. The fact that he spoke to her in the first place means that he has moved beyond what was customary and expected. He did not even acknowledge the status quo. He moved beyond it. Also, the fact that she spoke to him shows that she is not bound by custom either. Both of these people arrived at the well having relinquished something of their history.

“If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” This cannot have been the original response of Jesus to the woman. This response was certainly made to a question that John does not offer. He has something different in view. “If you knew,” goes to the fact that she does not know. It is not surprising, for the disciples according to the Synoptic gospels were prohibited from going to the Samaritans and proclaiming the gospel. Paul says in Romans 10:17, “faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes by the preaching of Christ.”  See especially 10:14. Jesus cannot have expected her to know who he is. If, indeed, she knew who he was then there would be no need for his revelation as Messiah. The “gift of God” was made clear in 3:16. It is the Son of God. The word for “gift” and the “give” in “give me a drink,” share a common origin. Jesus, the gift of God, is asking for a gift from the Samaritan woman. The word appears again in “given,” referring to the gift of living water. He who is the gift of God offers living water as a gift to the woman. The living water is spring water, running water that does not remain stagnant. It is always moving. However, this is not the point that John wants to make. The water from Jacob’s well belongs to this world. Jesus as living water is the one who has descended and will ascend again. The water from Jacob’s well is of the earth, earthly; Jesus the living water is of heaven, heavenly. John is again using Gnostic ideas to present Jesus.  “The gift of God” is none other than “who it is that is saying to you.” These ideas are not a part of the content of faith of the Samaritan woman. She does not know and at that time cannot know who Jesus is, and consequently cannot ask him for the living water.

The dialogue that follows discloses that the Samaritan woman does not understand what Jesus has said. This is somewhat akin to the misunderstanding concerning Jesus in the Synoptic gospels and even in this gospel. Her focus continues to be the well and its traditions. “Are you greater than our father Jacob who gave us the well?” The well is also a “gift.”  Again, Jesus does not respond to her question about who is greater, Jacob or Jesus. He counters with his own gift. “Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst; the water that I shall give him will become a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” The contrast is again between earthly and heavenly. The Samaritan woman still does not understand. She wants Jesus to give her this water that she may never thirst nor come back to the well. This may be symbolic language, and John likes to use symbolic language. That she may not thirst again may be symbolic of something lacking in her life, something for which she thirsts always. She may believe that Jesus has the power to quench that inner lack or emptiness. This may be symbolic of her desire to forsake the local tradition or legend associated with Jacob’s well.

Jesus does not respond to her request. She has completely missed the reference to living water and eternal life. As with Nicodemus, so long as the Samaritan woman’s life is determined by the flesh, by what is earthly, she cannot grasp the meaning of what is heavenly. John has accomplished one thing with this part of his narrative: the encounter and the dialogue of the earthly (Samaritan woman) and the heavenly (Jesus). However, John leaves off this discussion and nothing is resolved. He turns his attention to another matter.

The next stage in the development of the narrative will take this encounter to a different level. Jesus asks the Samaritan woman to go and get her husband. What importance her husband has for this encounter is not made clear. It appears to be some kind of narrative technique that will allow John another opportunity to disclose who Jesus is. So far, John has shown him as the Word” 1:1; “the true light,” 1:9;  “the only Son,” 1:14, 18; “the Lamb of God,: 1:29;  “the Son of God,” 1:34; “Rabbi,” 1:38;  “the Messiah,” 1:41; “him of whom Moses and the prophets spoke,” 1:45; “the King of Israel,” 1:50. John has not been reluctant to make known who Jesus is.

When Jesus asks her to bring her husband, she replies truthfully that she has no husband. Was Jesus testing her for some reason, since he already knew the answer? Jesus acknowledges her truthfulness, and then points out that she has had five husbands, and the one she currently has is not her legal husband. I have mentioned earlier that she is not afraid to go against custom. She lives her life the way she wants. Her marital situation is not a moral or spiritual matter for her. She is comfortable with her status. Commentators and pastors have tried to allegorize the five husbands, but I do not believe that this is necessary. She is a person who does not appreciate being alone.  In my study of Nicodemus I pointed out the manner in which primal solitude is broken and how unity is replaced by multiplicity. The Samaritan woman is someone who does not prefer solitude. She is not embarrassed by having had five husbands. However, she might have been amazed that Jesus knew all this about her as her reply indicates. “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.” Jesus is something other than she earlier perceived. Can this mean that she too is other than she thinks she is? Being in the presence of Jesus has given her a moment of insight into herself, as Jesus held up before her eyes a picture of what he has seen in her. Perhaps this is what Paul meant in I Corinthians 13:12.

John has used the technique of the omniscience of Jesus before with Simon and Nathanael in chapter 1. When Jesus is called a prophet it means he possesses the ability to know things.  Consequently, she feels permitted to discuss a religious issue with him, namely, worship. In a somewhat awkward construction, the text makes it appear that other parts of the dialogue are not recorded. She claims that Jesus said people ought to worship in Jerusalem rather than “on this mountain” that is, Gerizim. One of the points of contention between Jews and Samaritans is precisely the location for proper worship. For Jews it was Jerusalem; for Samaritans it was Gerizim. John uses a literary technique to get “worship” into the discussion. He brings the dialogue back to her original question: why a Jew was asking a Samaritan for water. Their conflict revolved around worship.

Jesus says, “the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father.”  In 2:4, even though the hour is not yet, Jesus still performed the first sign at the marriage in Cana. “The hour is coming” indicates that Jesus and the Samaritan woman are in a time of transition. While they were standing next to Jacob’s well (symbolic of the past) and speaking of worship (symbolic of the future) Jesus and the Samaritan woman are in a time when history becomes eschatology. “The hour is coming” is a reference to the eschatological moment which is even now dawning for the woman.  In the eschatological moment the “neither/nor” of the place of worship is transcended because the Father transcends place and time, sacralizes space and sanctifies worshipers wherever they are. Jesus assures her that the place of worship soon will not be a matter that separates people. Both Jerusalem and Gerizim as geographical points are construed as belonging to “this world,” that is, of the earth, earthly. The Father as what pertains to the heavenly realm transcends the earthly. See revelation 21:22. True worship will rediscover its proper home in the human soul. Jesus in Samaria represents the ultimate triumph of the human soul. This is the true objective of the missionary impulse.

The eschatological moment depicted in “the hour is coming” is not congruent with 4:22. The ideas in this verse do not conform to John’s narrative purpose. The idea that “salvation is of the Jews” finds no place in John’s gospel. Already John informs his readers that “he came to his own home, and his own people did not receive him.” 1:11. It is likely that a later redactor inserted this verse for some purpose to appeal to a local tradition. The conflict is more strongly debated in 8:34-59.

Jesus continues in 23 the idea begun in 21. “But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth. For such the Father seeks to worship him.” Jesus is more specific here. Not only is the hour coming, it “now is.” The eschatological moment has broken into the present. The hour can mean only the redemptive moment is now. Nicodemus had learned that he had to be born of the spirit to be part of the Kingdom of Heaven. In 5:24 Jesus says, “God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” One must worship God in spirit. In Revelation 1:10, the visionary says, “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s day.” Spirit and truth are not ways of worshiping God. Spirit and truth are not attitudes adopted for worship. Spirit and truth are fundamental dispositions of the whole human soul toward the divine. In worship one completely surrenders to the divine, renders up heart and mind, soul and body to the divine, knowing that when the historical moment becomes the eschatological moment one’s entire existence is transformed, and what is called eternal life becomes real and present for one. “And this is eternal life, that they know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.” 17:3. See Romans 12:1-2 for Paul’s view. The human being who stands in the presence of the divine already stands on holy ground and is thereby already sanctified by the divine. In worship, spirit and truth can simply be called faith. When she hears this, the Samaritan woman becomes reflective. “I know that the Messiah is coming; when he comes he will show us all things.” 4:25. She is not without some understanding of the expectation of redemption. She is awaiting the arrival of the Messiah and this might indicate that she would be receptive when the Messiah presented himself. Jesus replies in 4:26, “I who speak to you am he.” In this one sentence is the entire content of revelation. The coming one, the Omega, is already present in history as the Alpha. History has become eschatology and the redemptive moment is already spreading out from the center, from the place in which the Omega stands, in concentric circles to draw in all of creation. This is the gift that Jesus gives to the Samaritan woman. This is the foundation of the missionary enterprise of the church.

Now, for the first time, she hears the Gospel from the Messiah himself. He who brings the message is himself the message. John does not tell us her immediate reaction, for just at that moment, the disciples of Jesus returned, and when they saw the woman they marveled that he was having a conversation with her. For them this was a matter of propriety. They were not concerned that he was talking with a Samaritan! The issue of Jew and Samaritan is no longer a problem by the time that the Gospel of John was written. This makes its way into the text by its absence in the attitude of the disciples.

At this point there appears to be an interruption in the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman in 4:31-38. I will discuss this section after I have completed exploring the Samaritan story in 4:39-42.

The woman to whom the Messiah has just revealed himself leaves her water jar (a symbol of her leaving the past; she has now received living water), returns to her town. She told the people, “Come and see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” 4:29. She has just met the Messiah, and she immediately brings others to him. See Romans 10:14. She invites the others to find out for themselves, “Can this be the Christ?” The scene picks up again in 4:39 after an interruption of another episode between Jesus and his disciples. “Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony.” This is something quite new. According to custom, a woman may not bear testimony. Now, in the eschatological age, something new has dawned. The new creation is gradually emerging. Galatians 4:28. She is not the first to bear witness to the Messiah in this gospel. John the Baptist bore witness, 1:7; Andrew bore witness, 1:41; Philip bore witness, 1:45. But she is the first woman to whom he revealed himself as the Messiah, and she testified to others. The Samaritans invited the Messiah to stay with them and he spent two days in their town. “And many more believed because of his word.”  Now that they have heard from the Messiah himself they no longer need the testimony of the woman. Now they can say, “we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is indeed the Savior of the world.” 4:42. John’s message is clearer now. In the missionary work of the church, people can hear the proclamation of the gospel directly or indirectly. They will come to believe and find redemption. To hear the word of proclamation is to be confronted by the Word of God, Jesus Christ. In this confrontation the listener is allowed a moment of “soul review” that demands a response: to live in the flesh or to live in the spirit. To live in the spirit is eternal life, lived under the light of Christ and in the eternal presence of the divine. It is a choice between Jacob’s well and living water. Just as the woman had to stand before the Messiah and receive the revelation so also must the others. It is only in the presence of the divine that we can say with certainty “this is indeed the Savior of the world.” Something similar plays out at the crucifixion, when the centurion, in Mark 15:39, and the crowds, in Matthew 27:54 who stood facing Jesus on the cross, said, “Truly, this was the Son of God.”

Now I must take up 4:31-38. I am not sure what John intended in this passage. It does not seem to fit in here; it has no relationship to what has gone before and what comes after. It seems to be made up of a kind of parable that contains local proverbs or wisdom sayings.  The disciples have returned from their shopping trip. They offered Jesus something to eat. Jesus replied, “I have food to eat of which you do not know.” The disciples misunderstand him and wonder if someone has brought him something to eat. Creating contexts of misunderstanding is one of the literary techniques of John. I wonder if John is saying that not only the Samaritan woman, but even the disciples of Jesus do not understand him. But just as with the Samaritan woman, the lack of understanding on the part of the disciples provides an opportunity for Jesus to define himself and his mission. In 4:34 Jesus replied, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his work.” What is this will? It seems as if the will of God has been presented in 3:16-19. The “will of him who sent me” has to do with the bringing of eschatological salvation to those who believe in him. This is confirmed in 6:38-40. “For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me; and this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, and raise it up at the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes inn him should have eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day.” It follows, therefore, that the “work” of God that Jesus is to accomplish is salvation defined by “eternal life” and rising up “at the last day.”

Jesus says that this is what he has been sent to do. In 4:38 Jesus tells his disciples “I sent you to reap.” The sending of the disciples, the basis of apostleship, has its foundation in the sending of the Son of God. The proclamation of redemption which constitutes the “work” of the disciples is nothing other than the work of eschatological redemption that Jesus is accomplishing.

The work of Jesus and his disciples is described in 4:35-38 as a harvest. There is a time for sowing and a time for harvesting. The sowing has been accomplished and “the fields are already white for harvest.”  The harvesters will reap “the fruit of eternal life.” One sows, another reaps. “He who reaps receives wages, and gathers fruit of eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together.” 4:36. Rejoicing is a characteristic of redemption.

Verse 38 presents some exegetical problems. “I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor; others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.”  I have pointed out that the sending of the disciples is established on the basis of the sending of Jesus. Why would Jesus send them to reap where they did not sow?  Who are these “others” who did the sowing? This may be understandable only from a later time during and after the development of the young church where missionaries had built churches that were later led by others. If this is so, it reflects John’s understanding of the missionary impulse to build churches and then to move on to other areas where they were ready to sow the gospel.

While I still cannot fit this passage into the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman, the passage does make clear the whole mission of the church. This may be John’s way of saying, “Go therefore into all the world, making disciples of all nations.”

Lent II – John 3:1-17

“A newer garden of creation, no primal solitude.” Walt Whitman

Nicodemus – his name means “the people’s victor.” It is a common name, but not much is known of this particular individual. However, what is known about him reveals him as a man of singular courage. He is a ruler of the Jews. He is called a “teacher of Israel,” which implies that he is a scribe. It is unimportant that he comes to Jesus “by night,” as if to say he does not want to be seen in the presence of Jesus. Later, in 7: 50-51, Nicodemus will defend Jesus in the Sanhedrin that is having trouble deciding who Jesus is and what to do about him. Nicodemus insists that matters about Jesus be decided on points of law. Nicodemus will appear again after the death of Jesus in 19:39f. where he will join Joseph of Arimathea in removing the body of Jesus from the cross and preparing it for burial. Nicodemus brought 100 pounds of myrrh and aloes with which to do this. This is the extent of what is known about Nicodemus.

Nicodemus addresses Jesus as Rabbi. He is aware (“we know”) that Jesus has performed signs and that these indicate that “God is with him.” This is reminiscent of the Prologue where “the Word was with God,” and the Word became flesh. The story of Nicodemus takes us back to the beginning, and this is one of the most important features of this story. One may say that the meeting between Nicodemus and Jesus was itself the prologue to the rest of his life. He approaches with a question, but before Nicodemus can ask his question Jesus says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born anew, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” The kingdom of God is used only in this passage in John. It is a common idea in the synoptic gospels. Jesus says unless one is born anew he cannot see (verse 3) or enter (verse 5) the kingdom of God. The preaching of John the Baptist and Jesus in the Synoptics begins with “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”  However, “repent” and “born anew” do not share the same content. Nowhere in John do we find the term “repent.” (metanoia). John, however, is not alone in his use of “born anew.” The term occurs in I Peter 1: 3, 23; and Titus 3:5. It appears, then, that the idea of being born anew was already a part of the vocabulary of the young church.

Does Jesus read the mind of Nicodemus? I don’t believe so. Jesus is called Rabbi, and Nicodemus is called a teacher of Israel. They are both aware of words and meanings in the faith that is common to them. When Nicodemus says no one can do these things unless “God was with him,” that statement is identical to “no one can do these things unless he is already living in the kingdom of God.”  Nicodemus knows that Jesus already participates in the kingdom of God on the basis of the signs that Jesus has done.

Jesus perceives that Nicodemus’ unspoken question is “how does one come to belong to the kingdom of God?” Jesus replies, you must be born anew. The word “anew” is the most appropriate and most accurate translation of the Greek word. Jesus is saying that this present creation that gave birth to Nicodemus holds no possibility of allowing him entrance into the kingdom of God. Hence, Nicodemus must be born anew. The meaning of “anew” is that Nicodemus must have a completely new origin, a completely new beginning, because that is the only way into the kingdom of God. Just as Jesus is from the beginning so also must be Nicodemus.

The gospel of John is quite different from the Synoptic gospels on this point. John does not know of the tradition of the virgin birth. Jesus has always existed from the beginning and it is as “the beginning” that he enters into human history. In other words, Jesus enters the sphere of the human as the Alpha, and it is as the Alpha he discloses the nature and presence of the kingdom of God. Chapter 3 must be read in light of the Prologue of the gospel. “In the beginning was the Word,” and the beginning in this context is not a point of time. The beginning is the incipient source of all that has come to be. The beginning, where the “new” emerges and comes to stand, is presented to Nicodemus as being born “anew.” It is to this source that Jesus points Nicodemus. You must be born from that which is new and which always remains new because it is from that source that the kingdom of God emerges and manifests itself among humans.

Nicodemus’ question in verse 4 indicates that he does not understand what Jesus has just said. At the same time the impossibility of the idea of natural rebirth shows clearly that what is at issue is not a physical matter but something that transcends the physical. Nicodemus is still very much a part of this present creation, the natural world from which it is impossible to be born anew. He cannot understand rebirth in any way other than physical. Jesus invites Nicodemus to expand his thinking, to entertain a different point of view, to see his life from a different perspective. It is a fact that I did not bring about my own birth. I came into a world that had arrived ahead of me and was already prepared to offer me a geography, history and culture that would shape me to their configurations. By myself I cannot change the given. Yet, neither I nor Nicodemus remain hopeless.

In 3:5 Jesus says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” This is the word of hope that Nicodemus hears for the first time. The testimony of John the Baptist in 1:32-34 about Jesus, brings together baptism and Spirit. Jesus clarifies for Nicodemus what he means by being “born anew.” Jesus does not refer to baptism in this passage. It is very likely that the phrase “born of water” was not an original part of the story but was inserted much later in the developmental stages of the gospel. The gospel of John does not have a sacramentalist point of view, so it is unlikely that what is implied here is some idea of baptism. It is likely that Jesus tells Nicodemus that entry into the kingdom of God is through the Spirit.  Here the Spirit is not some kind of disembodied entity that is at work in the world. It is the power present in Jesus, 1:12, that Nicodemus has seen in the signs that Jesus performed. Spirit proper is none other than God acting to renew and transform the life of Nicodemus, and therefore also of the church. Spirit is creative activity and transformative power, and both point to Christian life determined by a power that is other than itself. Jesus is saying that to be born anew is to be born of the Spirit. The Spirit is the origin and primal source of all that is and if Nicodemus is to participate in the kingdom of God he must come to understand that born anew and born of the Spirit and the kingdom of God are all one and the same thing: to be thrown forward by the beginning which is present in every “now” making new all creation that will finally be revealed as “Spirit.” The answer that Jesus gives is that only a miracle can bring about the new birth and that the real content of miracle or sign is Spirit. Verse 6 is the definition of the miracle. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of Spirit is spirit.” Nicodemus stands between flesh and Spirit. As long as his life is determined by flesh he will dwell within chaos, the inevitable disorder of his world and his existence, and ultimately everlasting death. At the same time, Nicodemus by his own self or will cannot choose the life of the Spirit. Life in the flesh cannot break out of itself; it can be only what it already always is: the inevitable march towards death. Life in the Spirit is given to him only as a free gift of the God, and that is being born anew by a miracle, an act whose origin lies beyond his present sphere of existence.

Jesus tells Nicodemus “Do not marvel that I said to you ‘you must be born anew.’”  I stand with Nicodemus in that I do marvel at what I am hearing. This makes no sense to one who lives according to the flesh. Like Nicodemus, I marvel that what I have heard so far convinces me that this new birth, which is another name for salvation, is beyond my reach. Jesus consoles a somewhat anxious Nicodemus by using what is known to explain the unknown. “The wind blows where it wills, and you hear the sound if it, but you do not know whence it came and whither it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” The example is one of origin and destiny. Whoever is born of the Spirit has a past and a future that inhabits the unknown but is nevertheless present because it can be experienced. Nicodemus is not easily consoled. For the second time he asks, “How can this be?” Nicodemus is a teacher of Israel; he carries within himself the content of the definition of Israel. However, that content still belongs to the natural world, the existence in the flesh. There is nothing in life after the flesh that can understand what it is like to live in the Spirit.

Verse 11 is curious. Jesus says, “Truly, truly I say to you, we speak of what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen; but you do not receive out testimony.” The singular personal pronoun is replaced by the plural. Jesus speaks of “we.” There are serious problems with this verse, and it has been suggested that it does not belong here. I’m not sure that I can make sense of it. In 3:2 Nicodemus came to Jesus saying “we know” even though he seemed to be speaking for himself. Is Jesus using the same linguistic technique? Perhaps the “we” refers to the early church that is bearing witness to the “world,” and the world does not receive this witness. In the Prologue, “he came to his own people and his own received him not.” It seems as if both the testimony and the bearer of the testimony are rejected. In the next verse Jesus returns to the singular pronoun speaking of “earthly things” and “heavenly things.”

What constitutes “earthly things,” and “heavenly things”? This is not made clear since Jesus has been speaking so far only of being born anew. Is being born anew an earthly thing or a heavenly thing? The contrast is again flesh and Spirit, below and above, earth and heaven. This verse stands as a transition to the next thought. “No one has ascended into heaven but he who descended from heaven, the Son of man.” John is using Gnostic imagery and ideas to present his message. This makes it likely that his congregation was aware of these ideas and even that Gnostic beliefs were already a part of the practice of the church as Paul discovered in his ministry at Corinth. Jesus speaks of the Son of man in the third person. He seems to create some space between himself and the Son of man, and I believe that this space is meant to be filled by faith. It is faith that allows the believer to see in Jesus the Son of man. In the ascent of the Son of man to heaven, presumably something that will be witnessed, that faith will arise. Perhaps verse 13 is what constitutes heavenly things. However, it is difficult to make sense of an ascent that comes before a descent. It appears in this verse that the ascension, glorification of the Son of man is spoken as prior to the incarnation, the descent into humanity under the conditions of flesh. If the Son of man is to be exalted, is it not because first of all “the word became flesh”? In any case, incarnation and exaltation belong together theologically.

The following verses seem to attempt an explanation. In 3:15 the image of Moses lifting up the serpent in the wilderness is compared to the lifting up of the Son of man. His being lifted up is another way of expressing his ascent or exaltation. Again, John is using something that is known (the story of the bronze serpent) to explain what is unknown (the exaltation of the Son of man). But this at once presents another difficulty, for the serpent and the Son of man have nothing in common. It appears the John uses this analogy awkwardly to introduce a new concept. Now, “whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” John has transitioned from “born anew,” to the “kingdom of God,” to “eternal life.” Eternal life is a comprehensive concept that integrates within itself all that has been said so far. John has been moving his readers gradually from unbelief to the possibility of belief. He is saying now that the possibility exists for them to believe in heavenly things, which is none other than eternal life.

Life in the Spirit is accomplished in the incarnation and exaltation of the Son of man. Being born of the Spirit is now finally defined as eternal life. This is confirmed in 3:16. It becomes clear now that the Son of man is none other than “his only Son.” The divine motive is also made clear: the work of the Son is the result of the love of the Father. The ascent and descent of the Son, his incarnation and exaltation, constitute the work of salvation. God has sent his Son to save the world not to judge it. Salvation comes about through the love of God.

“A newer garden of creation, no primal solitude.” Walt Whitman’s newer garden is the Prairie  States, teeming with life, crowded, loud, boisterous. In his garden there is no room for primal solitude. In the original creation, the Lord says, “It is not good for man to be alone,” Genesis 2:18. Adam, whose life was primal solitude, is split into two creatures. He is no longer alone. One becomes two, and the primal unity that gave rise to primal solitude is ruptured forever. In the Prologue to the gospel, the divine unity is itself ruptured with the incarnation of the Son. The created son (Adam) and the uncreated Son (Jesus) both experience the movement from unity to multiplicity. The one has become many. The incarnation is itself the New Creation, life arising in and flowing from the uncreated Unity of the divine. The incarnation is a dynamic event that moves through history initiating in every “now” the source of what comes next. That source becomes repeatedly the origin of what is new. In the new world which comes about through faith in the exalted One who conceals the incarnate One, there is a community of faith that rejoices in its salvation. In this new creation, the Church, the Communion of Saints, there is no primal solitude. The Lord reigns, let the earth rejoice!

Lent I – The Temptation of Jesus – Matthew 4: 1-11

“The present is singular.” Jorge Luis Borges

“The present is singular.” Singularity. Absolute. What is Absolute is singular. “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” Deut. 6:4-5. Matthew’s use of Deuteronomy 6 in the narrative of the Temptation indicates that he would have known the Shema. I interpret the Temptation as a singular event in the life of Jesus, but at the same time an event that never distances itself from him nor he from it. The Temptation is a transcendent event. I will address this matter in more detail later. Because it is transcendent, it is it is always present, illuminating Matthew’s narrative motive and meaning. It culminates in an eschatology of cosmic inclusiveness reaching forward to a mission of baptism of all nations, backwards to the baptism of Jesus that occasioned the Temptation, sustained by the promise, “I am with you always, to the close of the age.” 28:19-20. On a separate note, I believe that the Passion narrative is superimposed over the Temptation whose silent message is always that Jesus is victor not victim.

The Temptation was not originally a unit as is evidenced by the way it is treated in the several traditions. Mark and John have no interest in the Temptation. Mark barely mentions it as if to say that the Passion story suffices. John never mentions the Temptation. Matthew, in presenting his gospel as the narrative of the New Genesis, has both Genesis and Deuteronomy in mind in the Temptation. A New Genesis requires a new humanity, and Matthew intends to offer a theological anthropology that will define his understanding of a new humanity. At the heart of that anthropology is Matthew’s view of discipleship that will form the foundation of his missiology, the redemption of the whole world. I believe that Matthew constructs the Temptation narrative for didactic purposes, to prepare the disciples and the young church for the difficulties ahead.

Matthew begins his narrative by identifying Jesus. He is the son of Abraham, 1:1, and Matthew intends Jesus as the fulfilment of all the promises made to Abraham. (Gen. 12: 1-3; 17:5-7). The wise men of the east call Jesus “the king of the Jews,” and they came “to worship him,” Mt. 2:2. When they found him, “they fell down and worshiped him.” Mt. 2:11. One may pledge loyalty and obedience to a king, but does one worship him? The word for worship, proskuneo, is used with reference to Jesus nine times in Matthew, hence it holds special importance. The devil will use this same word in 4:4, demanding that Jesus worship him. Matthew must mean something quite specific with this incident. He is saying that Jesus is the son of Abraham, but he is more than that. Matthew clarifies that, “Out of Egypt have I called my son.” 2:15. Jesus is son of Abraham, inheriting the promises, and he is the son of God. In the scene of the baptism of Jesus, the identification of Jesus is more pronounced. “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.” 3:17. For Matthew, the identity of Jesus is settled, the Divine itself has announced it. Consequently, in what follows, I shall focus on what the devil demands of Jesus: command these stones to become bread; cast yourself down from the pinnacle; fall down and worship me.

The ideas presented here lead me to the conclusion that the Temptation of Jesus is not intended to affirm the identity of Jesus. That is an established fact for Matthew. He has demonstrated it through genealogy, 1:1-17. He has shown it through history, “in the days of Herod the king,” 2:1. It makes a difference whether one believe that Matthew himself has constructed the narrative of the Temptation or has adapted it from Q. The latter has no interest in Jesus as the son of God. For Q, it is enough that Jesus is identified as the son of man. Matthew clearly identifies Jesus as the son of God. It is as the Son of God that Jesus enters the desert and is tempted. However, Jesus was not alone in the desert. He was led out there by the Spirit that descended upon him at his baptism. After the Temptation the angels came and ministered to him.

The First Temptation: Everything that takes place in the Temptation narrative does so under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Jesus was in the desert, fasting for forty days and forty nights, at the end of which he was hungry. Moses was on the mountain with God forty days and forty nights, “he neither ate bread nor drank water,” fasting as he received the commandments. Ex.34:28. Matthew would have known this. The Pharisee in Luke 18:12 boasted that he fasted twice a week. He was fulfilling the minimum requirements of the law. Fasting and hunger are not words used lightly. They tell us something important if we listen intently.

In the pre-Pauline hymn in Philippians 2, Christ emptied himself so that he became fully human. Fasting in the desert and emptying himself conceal a truth that needs to be revealed. This first Temptation is not simply about turning stones into bread. It is not a challenge to the authority and identity of Jesus. Hunger in this context is not a metaphor. It was real for Jesus, and it might have been real for the church. The devil says, “Command these stones to become loaves of bread.” He is demanding that Jesus change what God has made. That is the essence of this Temptation. Jesus rejects the demand. This creation is a gift from God, the stones are a gift from God, but only so long as they remain what they were intended to be. Is not Jesus himself stone also? “The very stone that the builders rejected has become the head of the corner.” 21:42. In 7:9 Jesus says, “Who among you, if your son asks for bread, would give him a stone?” Stones and bread are both gifts from God, having different purposes. Jesus is both stone and bread, yet he has a singular purpose, to be himself in the act of accomplishing the purpose for which he was sent. (The changing of water into wine at the Marriage at Cana in John’s Gospel calls for a different analysis in the context of the meaning of that Gospel).

Bread is a daily gift from God, so we pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” In 26:26 Jesus took bread and said to his disciples, “Take, eat, this is my body.” Jesus, the bread of life, the bread from heaven, gives himself as a gift to his disciples and to the church. He who is bread itself does not need to make stones into bread. He is stone and bread. He is self-sustaining and self-nurturing and for this reason he can fast for 40 days and nights. He empties himself; he is hungry; he gives himself as a gift to be consumed by his disciples and the church.

What Matthew teaches in this first Temptation is that Jesus renounces the devil and refuses to change what God has made. Instead, he chooses to remain hungry. Choice is a crucial factor throughout the temptations, and I will address it later. To choose to remain hungry is the more difficult course. Matthew wants his church to understand that they must face their own deprivations with the same faith that Jesus used. His hunger and emptying is a singular event that teaches the church to stand firm in the face of difficulties. The devil knows this very well. Did he not tempt Adam and Eve with food?  He tempts Jesus and the church similarly. The devil knows that so long as Jesus empties himself and remains hungry the redemption of the world is assured. The devil knows that the hunger of Jesus is nothing other than “Take, eat, this is my body given for you.” Jesus said in John’s Gospel, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall never hunger.” Peter’s question is illuminating. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” The first Temptation points to the past: to Adam and Eve; and to the future: to the Church, disciples active in mission, transcending both in an eternal singular present that is being redeemed. Jesus emptied himself, became obedient unto death, even the death on the cross. This is what the first Temptation wanted to prevent. There is an incident in Matthew 16 where Jesus tells his disciples that he will be killed and on the third day rise from the dead. Peter takes him aside and says this will never happen. Jesus rebukes him, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance for you are not on the side of God but of men.”  Whatever prevents Jesus from accomplishing his work of salvation is deemed as Satanic. Matthew’s motif in the missionary enterprise of the church must not be hindered likewise.

The Second Temptation: The devil takes Jesus to the holy city, and up to the pinnacle of the temple. It is somewhat curious that the Spirit leads Jesus into the desert and the devil leads Jesus to the holy city and the temple. There will be another time when Jesus will enter the holy city to the shouts, “Blessed is he who comes in the Name of the Lord!” But for the present, Jesus is accompanied by the devil. Now he commands Jesus, “Cast yourself down.” He whose name, dia-bolos, means “the one cast down” (Luke 10:18; Rev. 12:9; John 12:31), wants Jesus to join him as one cast down. He wants Jesus to share his fate. If Jesus were to cast himself down from the pinnacle of the temple, he would be giving up his life in the holiest place. Jerusalem is the center of the world; it is the place from which salvation will go out to all parts of the world. It is the scene of the final struggle between the divine and the demonic in a great apocalyptic event. That is what we are told in the Revelation of John. We are also told that in the new creation John “saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God, the Almighty, and the Lamb.” Rev. 21:22. He who is himself the temple cannot cast himself down. But for the moment, in the scene of the Temptation, all of this is hidden. It will be revealed at the appropriate time.

The didactic content that Matthew wants to communicate here is this: danger lurks even in the holy city and the holy temple. (Perhaps T. S. Eliot’s “Murder in the Cathedral” may offer some insights). But where danger exists, the church can be assured that the Lord God will deliver the people. The devil knows this. He can quote scripture to support this. The devil himself was cast down, not of his own will, but by the will of the divine and the divine did not send angels to deliver him. Perhaps he himself was unsure that God would deliver Jesus. And this uncertainty is something that might have prevailed in Matthew’s congregations. He had to provide an answer that would inspire the faith of the members of his church. Matthew is warning the members of his church that danger lurks in the church itself, as Paul saw so clearly in many of his congregations. He is encouraging them to be careful and to continue trusting that God will deliver them from internal and external dangers. He does this by showing how Jesus faced such dangers and overcame them by trusting in the word of the Lord. Indeed, Jesus will later give up his life in a holy place, but not at the command of the devil. For the moment this too is hidden from the public.

Jesus says, “You shall not tempt the Lord your God.” Matthew is cautioning his church not to tempt the Lord by any show of unfaithfulness or doubt. They are living in critical times, and they need to be careful of their words and their actions. The young church has just discovered new life in Christ, and they know that it is difficult to practice their faith in the public arena. Matthew has constructed the narrative of the Temptation to teach his church that they must not surrender their life to the temptation of the world. The devil asks Jesus to surrender his life, to give it up, in fact, to attempt suicide if his faith is so strong that God would deliver him. Matthew is saying that the dangers and trials which the church faces must be dealt with in the same way that Jesus rebuffed the devil. I find it curious that the devil takes Jesus to the top of the temple in Jerusalem and asks him to sacrifice himself by jumping off the pinnacle. Jerusalem is the place where the Spirit will lead Jesus to the cross, to be lifted up, and then after a while to be taken down by his disciples and then again to be lifted up by the Spirit in the resurrection. The devil’s task is to cast down; the Spirit’s task is to lift up. One may pray to God, “Deliver us from evil,” but one may not tempt God by willing evil and then tempting God for deliverance. Matthew’s apologia is that God will certainly deliver the faithful.

The Third Temptation: The devil takes Jesus to a very high mountain. Luke’s version has no mountain. He shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the kosmos, the natural world. In Luke, Jesus is shown the oikoumene, the populated kingdoms. “All these I will give you if you will bow down and worship me.” We may recall that all the kingdoms of the natural world have already been given to God’s first son, Adam, Genesis 1:26-31. These kingdoms are not the devil’s to give. What is Matthew trying to teach his church with the use of this Temptation? Perhaps some of the newer members who have come from Hellenistic backgrounds are not accustomed to a monotheistic faith. Some of them did not have a sense of a transcendent God who was at the same time imminent. We learn this from Paul who speaks of the people “who do not know God.” I Thess. 4:5. It is because of monotheistic preaching that these people “turned to God from idols to serve a living and true God.” I Thess. 1:9. See also Gal. 4:8-9.

Note that in this third Temptation the devil does not say, “If you are the Son of God.” The Temptation is intended for a broader audience. I believe that Matthew is using a didactic technique that is intended to teach his church that the world will indeed offer them many things that are not theirs to offer to draw them away from their new-found faith. Later, in the Revelation of John, we will discover that Jesus will defeat Satan and everything will indeed be delivered to Jesus. Matthew is encouraging his church to be patiently faithful in these critical times and that their faith will be rewarded in time to come. In Rev. 2:20, the church at Smyrna which is under tribulation is told, “Be faithful unto death and I will give you the crown of life.” Matthew is teaching a lesson about the strength and persistence of faith.

How shall we understand the episode of the testing of Jesus? The devil is certainly not a flesh and blood adversary standing before Jesus challenging him, as for example the Pharisees and Sadducees. What are we to make of the dialogue? Is it really a monologue between two distinct personas of Jesus? How to understand all this? I shall re-state what I have written elsewhere.

Matthew has constructed the Temptation of Jesus as an ecstatic apocalyptic vision in which Jesus is caught up, as John was in Rev. 1:10. John was “in the Spirit,” when he was caught up. Jesus entered this episode after the Holy Spirit had descended upon him, and he was led by the Spirit for forty days. When the testing was over, “angels came and ministered to him.” See also Paul’s apocalyptic vision, 2 Cor. 12. The demonic is hostile to the divine. An apocalyptic vision does not need to include each and every item that defines the content of apocalyptic. Mark 13 is an example of this. The young church was aware of such apocalyptic visions, and incorporated them into their worship as in Paul and the Apocalypse. Here in Matthew, there is a supernatural entity offering itself in place of the divine. There is symbolic apocalyptic language, the kingdom of this world as opposed to the Kingdom of God. There is also transport of the visionary without leaving the scene as in Revelation. There is a gradual progression within the narrative that culminated in the victory of the divine.

The Temptation of Jesus is a singular event, (apocalyptic visions by nature cannot be repeated, only re-told), a story that transcends time and place and uniqueness of meaning. It is a singular event that inhabits in every proclamation every “now” of the church. The church always exists in the context of temptation, that is, the church always exists in contexts of choices. As long as we can believe with Jesus, in the contemporary image created by Jorge Luis Borges that “The present is singular,” we too will transcend the divisions that challenge the church each day, each moment. We can never forget that the life of the church is a life of choosing.  In Deut. 30:19 we read, “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses; therefore choose life that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him and cleaving to him.” Later, Joshua will say to the people, “choose this day whom you will serve…as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” 24:15.

Now is the day of salvation! “The present is singular.”

(I am re-posting this since I do not have the resources at this time to prepare a new reflection. Please forgive me.)

Matthew 6:1-6; 16-21.

“And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices.” T. S. Eliot, Ash Wednesday

I believe that the Evangelist Matthew presents his gospel as a New Genesis. He intends to tell his story as the coming into being of a “new creation.” This new creation is not only a divine act; it inaugurates a human participation, the call to discipleship that is simultaneously a call to a missionary enterprise that reaches to the ends of the earth. 28:19-20. For this reason, I believe that Matthew constructs his entire narrative around 4:17, where Jesus begins his ministry with “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” This is exactly the message of John the Baptist in 3:2. Jesus begins his teaching on discipleship and his call to mission in the context of the prophecy of John. I believe that in chapter 5 the “but I say to you” repeated many times, can be read against the background of “And God said” repeated many times in Genesis 1. I believe that the coming kingdom of heaven, that is, active discipleship in mission, makes it possible to live out the words of 5:48, “You must be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” This is central to the theological anthropology of Matthew’s new humanity.

This last command leads directly to the next. “You must be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect,” therefore, “Beware of practicing your piety before men.” Piety is literally righteousness, (dikaiosune). In 3:15 Jesus tells John that this baptism “is fitting for us to fulfill all dikaiosune.” In 5:20 Jesus tells his disciples that “unless your dikaiosune exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” It seems clear that righteousness or piety is a significant term for Matthew’s view of the life of discipleship. “Never” is grammatically an emphatic negation that is further evidence of how seriously Matthew believes this. People may “hunger and thirst for righteousness” with the hope and promise that “they will be satisfied.” 5:6. Piety has the character of concealedness. When it is authentic it is concealed from the public. When it is inauthentic it is open to public view. Whoever alters the concealed character of piety does not receive a reward from “your Father who is in heaven.” To make a divine gift into what it is not is the stuff of idolatry.

Piety characterizes life under grace. It is life determined by surrender to the Divine. Self-surrender is not an accomplishment of which I am capable on my own. It is the gift of the Holy Spirit that empowers me to submit myself to “our Father who is in secret, and to our Father who sees in secret.” See Martin Luther’s explanation of the Third Article of the Creed. Submission, that is, faith coming to birth and casting itself forward into the void, into the secret “substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,” can have no expectation of reward. Piety is complete within itself. That to which I surrender and submit, the unknown, is called “our Father who is in secret” by Jesus. This is another way of saying, “Our Father, who art in heaven.” Seen this way, “in secret” and “in heaven” intend to convey the same thing. Taken as two phrases the statements imply a Divine abode that may be thought of as our Source and Origin. The practice of piety transcends the personal and transports me to my Origin.

The content of this piety that runs through chapter 6 is presented as almsgiving, prayer, fasting, and treasures. These are the marks of an active discipleship. Each of these receives special and somewhat similar treatment that moves in the direction of a future reward when piety is practiced according to these renewed requirements. Matthew uses the Sermon on the Mount to offer his view of eschatology. Jesus is preparing his disciples for a new creation and to do that he has to point to our source and origin which has never left us and which we have not left behind. That this is so is demonstrated in 4:17 when Jesus began his preaching. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Piety prevails where repentance is genuine. The eschatological moment approaches and brings with it the fulfilment of promises of old. That a change is on the way is shown repeatedly in chapter 4. “You have heard it said of old, but I say unto you.” Jesus is not presenting a new piety; he is restoring it to its original place, with its original meaning as a response to grace that makes the future possible. We bear within ourselves our source and origin and for this reason history becomes eschatology as what we are gives makes way for what we are becoming.

Vs. 2 – “When you give alms” literally, when you do “works of mercy.” The word used here can be a substitute for the word used earlier for “righteousness.” Vs. 2 recalls 5: 7, “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”  Mercy is its own reward. Works of mercy, or almsgiving, describe a response which is in itself intensely private. Therefore, “do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.”  Almsgiving is of such a private nature that even I must not take notice of what I am doing. The practice of works of mercy is voluntarily offering up what I have as the reality of what I am, and is therefore complete and unconditional surrender to the Divine whose abode is “secret.” Those who receive alms are often invisible, living at the margins of society, shut out of the social order by poverty, disease, or misfortune. They are completely dependent upon the benevolence, generosity, and altruism of others. They know what it is like to live by grace.

Almsgiving, knowing that the giver is also totally dependent upon the Divine, is a reaching out to others, embracing the uniqueness of grace that sustains us equally. Almsgiving transports us to that secret place, the ground immediately before the throne of grace, our hidden origin. In almsgiving, I must be as completely hidden from myself as the Divine is hidden from me. (The Lutheran understanding of God hidden and revealed is instructive here). Those who give alms unnoticed even to themselves will receive their reward. Matthew does not define that reward. I am suggesting that the reward is renewal, a call to our origin and from there the promise of a new creation, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Matthew speaks of the reward as of the future. I believe that the reward is entrance into the kingdom of heaven. That “our Father” will reward us in secret, from his secret place, indicates that the kingdom of heaven will dawn for us.

Vs. 5 – In the present context, Jesus speaks of prayer as an activity that takes place in secret, that is, out of the public view. Prayer transports us to the domain of the divine. The author of the Book of Revelation, in chapter one, was at prayer when he discovered himself in the throne-room of the divine one, “the first and the last.” Prayer does not lose sight of the first and the last, the Alpha and the Omega, the whence and the whereto. Consequently, prayer transcends history and dwells in the vicinity of eschatological grace. Its home is its reward, the kingdom of heaven.

I wonder if the demand for religious activity to be carried on in secret reflects the persecution of the young church. This may make sense without undermining a kind of rigorous piety known to exist in communities of faith such as at Qumran and among the disciples of John the Baptist. The young church must distinguish itself by a rigorous piety that at once sets it apart, while at the same time offering a critique of the status quo religious practices that have accommodated themselves to alien cultural values in order to survive. Matthew’s use of plural pronouns indicates that prayer is also an activity of the community. Perhaps survival depended upon solidarity.

Vs. 16 – When you fast, conceal yourself as one who is fasting. Jesus knows about fasting, having fasted forty day and nights and was left feeling hungry. 4:2. He himself gives us insight into how he dealt with his hunger in the desert. He was filled “by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” 4:4. Unlike the other instructions so far, this one about fasting describes a relationship within oneself rather than an activity on behalf of others. These are all instructions for self-denial and self-sacrifice. Jews fasted twice weekly, Monday and Thursday. Later, Christians fasted Monday and Friday. Jesus makes it clear that fasting is not simply an internal event, denying oneself food and drink that sustain life. It is also an outward event; one must present oneself as engaged in something quite normal and natural which does not deserve the attention of others. Fasting also indicates how Jesus understands nurture: “man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” Fasting is the acknowledgement that it is God who sustains life through his word. To those who fast is promised a future reward. This is again the forward movement of Matthew’s view of eschatology, the preparation of the young church for the kingdom of heaven, the new creation.

Vs. 19 – “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth…but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” This is an apt conclusion for Matthew’s presentation of piety. Matthew does not define treasures as earlier he did not define reward. He does indicate two kinds of treasures, earthly treasures that are temporary and heavenly treasures that are lasting. I am interpreting treasures as identical to reward; they are one and the same thing. In this case “treasures in heaven” refers to the undefined reward. I have interpreted reward to mean entrance into the kingdom of heaven, the call to return to our source where we find renewal in anticipation of the new creation. Treasures in heaven know that source as “heaven.” He says, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” Here I would like to recall 5:8, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” It appears that treasures and rewards are related to purity, piety, and in this case, the pure in heart. Such purity inherits the promise that those persons shall see God. To see God is the equivalent of the kingdom of heaven. It is by unravelling this kingdom of heaven that we gain insight into the content of Matthew’s eschatology, discipleship that reaches to the ends of the earth. “And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices!”

At Service on Ash Wednesday we will hear this theme summarized. “Remember, Christian, dust you are and to dust you shall return.” We will leave that Service knowing that our origin has not left us, and we carry within us the hope of return. Paradoxical grace?

(Note: I am re-posting this piece as a remembrance. I do not want to forget where my spirit was on that day one year ago).

“Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they were no more.”

(Jeremiah 31:15. St. Matthew 2:18)

Sadness awakened at mid-morning, uncovers the strength to push evil aside, spreads across the land draping America’s soul with grief. Sadness as strong as love that blindly abides. Unseeing through tears that baptize the earth unto a blessedness. This blessed earth waits to embrace children innocently returning from a brief time in the sun. Thoughts cease to be whole; sentences fractured; verbs powerless to lend sense to a ruptured spirit. Rachel weeping, again, for her children. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope. I weep with Rachel. Perhaps it is in weeping that hope abides.

Death be not proud, though some have called thee  Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so ”

Often have I been moved to quiet reverence by the hopeful harmony of this sonnet. In moments when dread overtakes me and I feel my center contending with principalities and powers, I am sustained by Donne’s fearless renunciation of Death. When he speaks, in another place, of death as “lossful gain,” he speaks from faith and for faith; and to some ears, Donne may perhaps also speak prior to faith, and even more deeply, to an absence of faith. “Mighty and dreadful” abides in its legacy and such an abiding endures like fractals in a burdened life. Under the weight of my grief I, too, can cry “’Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone.” This is precisely how I am disclosed to myself when death, loss, grief drain from me the substance of spirit that once, and will again, embolden me. Yet not now. Not here. Not in the presence of a grief so abiding and lasting and enfolding selves and families and a whole nation. Meditation 17 instructs, “And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” No man is an island, Donne says, yet at times each is a nation, containing undiffused the nation’s grief. A heart’s largeness is infinite when it bears grief like a beacon that lights the way through compassion on that long journey to absolution. Donne’s spiritual wandering through An Anatomy of the World brings him to the question whether the deceased can “dwell in an elegy.” Perhaps the answer is that the Word became flesh and dwells among us. That in-dwelling is the true elegy that, while renouncing death, establishes for death a worthy purpose.” As Donne says, “For though the soul of man Be got when man is made, ‘tis born but then When man doth die.” Elegy, as speech that remembers, as saying that memorializes, bears me when I am no longer, as it consoles those who listen.  Listening brings into grief a stilling sound of grace that reveals the resting place of grief. Donne commands, “”Then turn O pensive soul, to God, for he knows best Thy truest grief, for he put it in my breast.”  Death be not proud, the grief that you bring is a gift from the Divine. Grief has been with me from the beginning; death, you have awakened in me God’s hidden gift, and now I am my grief. My grief, like the nation’s, rests in the heart of the Divine.

The Evangelist John has a Christology that makes the resurrection superfluous. The Gospel is singularly concerned with one question: who is Jesus? Every “sign” from the Incarnation to the crucifixion is designed to answer this question.  From begin to end, it is a manifesto of Christology. Christology is Christos and logos, which is teaching about Christ. However, the Evangelist offers little in the way of teaching about Christ. In this Gospel, Christology undergoes a transformation. The Evangelist uses the framework of the Gnostic redeemer myth to present Christ. But since most of that myth would have obscured the message, he rejected most of it and kept one idea: revelation. In this Gospel, Jesus is the one who reveals. Christology is revelation not instruction. Jesus Christ is the revelation of God. The Evangelist is even more specific than this. Jesus Christ is the self-revelation of God. In a very stirring scene, when some were withdrawing from Jesus, he asked, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter responded for all of them. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life; and we have believed, and have come to know that you are the Holy One of God.” 6:67-69. That phrase is the entire content of this Gospel. “These things are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name” 20:31.

The disciples can have come to know that only through revelation. From the beginning of this Gospel, Jesus did not come into the world via virgin birth. He arrived already as the transcendent Incarnate One, walked among the people as the Transcendent, and ascended as such. Jesus tells Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.” 11:25-26. Mary them confesses that he is the Son of God. In the Gospel, the resurrection is hardly associated with post-crucifixion signs. Long before he goes to the cross, Jesus is present already as “the resurrection and the life.” These two words mean the same thing, and I will return to this theme in my conclusion.

The mission of the Incarnate One is accomplished on the cross. The cross gathers together the life of the Redeemer, his incarnation, ascension, exaltation, parousia and resurrection in the “It is finished” of 19:30. An examination of the narrative of the empty tomb will give us some insight into this, but first, I must consider Mary Magdalene.

Except for a mention in Luke 8:2, Mary Magdalene appears only at the end of the life of Jesus. She is present at the crucifixion and at the empty tomb. It is difficult to estimate her role and its importance from such sparse evidence. Perhaps an examination of the Gospel of John will provide some insight leading to useful conclusions.

The morning after the crucifixion Mary Magdalene arrived very early at the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away, and she ran and got Peter and the beloved disciple. Why did Mary come to the tomb? She did not come to anoint Jesus, this much is clear. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had already taken care of that. 19:38-40. The text gives no indication as to her purpose so no conclusion can be drawn without further analysis.

She said to Peter and the beloved disciple. “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” How does she know this? If she looked into the tomb, the text is silent on this. “They have taken the Lord.” At this early stage, how does Mary know that Jesus is “Lord?” This is not possible unless she has been given a special revelation as The Gospel of Mary Magdalene teaches. For the Gospel of John, the crucifixion is both the glorification and exaltation of Jesus. This is where Jesus is revealed as Lord for the entire world to see. But Mary cannot know this beforehand. It has not been revealed to her. Perhaps one hears the voice of the church here.

There are two traditions interwoven in this text. The first is a Magdalene tradition which might have been something like this: Mary arrives at the tomb. The stone is rolled away already. She looks in in and sees two angels who question her. She does not seem surprised by this encounter. She turns and sees someone standing behind her. He asks her the same question the angels did. She thinks he is the gardener. Jesus calls her by name, “Mary” and she recognizes him immediately. According to John Jesus is the shepherd who calls his sheep by name, and they know his voice and come to him, chapter 10. Mary calls him “Rabboni,” which means teacher. Jesus says “do not hold me for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them I am ascending to my Father and your father, to my God and your God.” Mary went and said to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and told them the story. I will address this matter later.

The other tradition is the Petrine one with the beloved disciple, which emphasizes the role of Peter. He has to be the one who takes precedence. The anonymity of the beloved disciple is a literary technique that preserves the pre-eminence of Peter. Who is the beloved disciple? In 19:26-27, Jesus commends his mother into the care of the beloved disciple, “Woman, behold your son. Behold your mother.” Is this not literally suggestive? “And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.” Mary has other sons besides Jesus: James, Joseph, Simon and Judas, along with sisters (according to Mt. 14:55-56); James, Joses, Judas and Simon, along with sisters (acc. to Mark 6:3). Since James is mentioned first in both accounts, I assume he is the eldest son after Jesus. In John 7:5, it is stated that even his brothers did not believe in him. Who outside his family would know this? In 20:8, the beloved disciple went into the tomb, “and he saw and believed.” Perhaps it was James who stood with his mother watching his brother being crucified, who came to believe in him. The mother and brothers of Jesus stand with him at the Wedding at Cana, the place of his first sign. Why would they not be here at the cross, the place of his last sign? In both scenes, Jesus addresses his mother in a similar manner. Why would Jesus place his mother under the care of a disciple when he has four brothers and at least two sisters? Is he not bound to honor his mother in this way? I believe that Jesus commends the care of his mother to his younger brother, James. I suggest that the beloved disciple is none other than James, the brother next in line, who then takes his mother to his own home. I should mention that the name James does not appear in any of the Johannine literature.

The sprint to the tomb between Peter and the beloved disciple becomes understandable if the beloved disciple is James, as later tradition shows the competition and conflict of these two men in leadership.  In the present tradition Peter takes precedence. According to cultural norms, Mary could not serve as a witness to the empty tomb. Only men can serve as witnesses, and two men are required for truth. Peter and the beloved disciple serve this purpose: they can testify that the tomb was really empty. After this, Peter and the beloved disciples went back to their homes.

What the empty tomb proclaims is only this: the tomb is empty. The empty tomb is not a proclamation of the resurrection. No one knows what a “resurrection” is. The Evangelist does not speak of Jesus rising from the dead except at 2:22, 20:9 and 21:4, and all of these are later editorial additions. The resurrection has not been revealed to the world. It is not of primary interest to the Evangelist. For him the crucifixion is the point of the life of Christ. This means ultimately that Incarnation and Crucifixion, the Arrival and Departure, are one and the same. As I stated in another context, the Departure can never leave behind the Arrival. The Omega can never leave behind the Alpha. The one who has come from God (1:2) and the Father (1:14) must also return thither. The “”beginning” from which Jesus came is a “source” rather than a point in time. So also must be the parousia. It is not a point in time for the “return” of the Redeemer. The parousia is the gathering place of the one whose abiding presence has transcended his coming and going.

After the disciples returned to their homes, Mary Magdalene is left alone again. Now she looks into the tomb and sees two angels in white. Why did the disciples not see the angels earlier? Perhaps it was given to them only to bear witness to the empty tomb. How does Mary know that the two figures are angels? She seems completely unmoved by this vision. She shows no sign of surprise, fear or awe. She had arrived here already overtaken by her grief. “Woman, why are you weeping?” they asked her. Well, maybe the angels have never lost a friend, so they don’t know about grief. I want to reader to know that these are not my kind of angels. If I am weeping because of my inconsolable grief I want my angels to sit down and weep with me, not ask really stupid questions. This is very bad pastoral care. But we must forgive them because they are messengers not healers. Mary told them why she was weeping, turned her back on them causing them to disappear from the narrative. She then sees Jesus but does not recognize him. He repeats the question that the angels had asked, “Woman, why are you weeping?” Instead, she repeats her answer. Jesus calls her by name, “Mary.” She recognizes him and responds, “Rabboni.”

The Teacher is how she knows the Redeemer. The past is the only means that Mary has of understanding Jesus. But the glorified, exalted Jesus is no longer a figure of the past. He and Mary no longer share the same history. This is indicated in the fact that Jesus repeats the question of the angels. The Evangelist aligns Jesus with the angels. They belong to the same transcendent realm. However, this is not a theophany. Mary sees and hears them because she has been called for this purpose. In the Synoptic gospels, Elizabeth and Mary his mother were similarly selected. This explains also why Peter and the beloved disciple did not receive this vision. Their opportunity will come later in the day when Jesus will appear to the gathered disciples.

Jesus says to Mary, “Do not touch me.” The sentence may be translated in a number of ways, and this is as good as any. Would it not have been unseemly for her to touch him just a few days earlier, given that they are not related? Yet, this time it is different. “I have not yet ascended to the Father.” This is the revelation of the Redeemer to Mary. Nothing more is necessary except “go and tell.” In his appearance to Mary Magdalene, the Incarnate appears as the Discarnate. He came to his own as the Incarnate. He departs from his own as the Discarnate. Later in the day he will pass through a closed door, as he will again eight days later. Yet, to whom he wants, he reveals who he is. Mary now knows who he is. Later in the day the disciples in the room will know who he is.

The presence of the two angels now makes sense. They bear testimony to the truth of Mary’s vision of Jesus.  Mary could not relate this on her own because she has no legitimacy to bear witness. The two disciples bear witness to the empty tomb. The two angels bear witness to the appearance of Jesus. Again, this is not about the resurrection. The appearance of Jesus to Mary is exactly that: an appearance. That is why Mary can say later in telling her story, “I have seen the Lord.” Appearance and resurrection have completely different meanings.

I can now answer why Mary came to the tomb that day. It has been given to her to bear testimony to the appearance of the Lord. When Mary arrived at the tomb she believed in Jesus, but she could not have had faith in Christ. She cannot know the Lord until he has revealed himself to her. Only now can she say, “I have seen the Lord.”

Jesus tells Mary “go and tell my brothers”(adelphoi, 20:7). She is entrusted with this message to his family because on the day, before from his cross, Jesus had seen Mary with many others, among them his mother, his aunt and the beloved disciple, whom I have identified as his brother, James. She has some kind of relationship with his family and they would receive her as his messenger. Mary instead tells the story to the disciples (mathetai, 20:8). I think this difference is important for John. His custom is to say “brothers and disciples” when speaking of a group. This is evident in 2:12, and in 7:3, 5, and 10. I believe that Mary misunderstood the concern that Jesus was expressing for his siblings and took his words to mean his disciples. I believe Jesus would have wanted his grieving siblings to know that they will see him again, and to let them know where he was going. “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” His siblings, with the exception perhaps of James, did not believe in him. He sends Mary to assure them that his Father is their Father and his God is their God. The fact that 20:19 – 21:25 deals with his disciples and not with his family speaks in favor of two distinct audiences: his family and his disciples. I appreciate the difficulties that chapter 21 presents and I will have an opportunity to explore those at another time.

Since this reading has been selected for Easter, what is the Easter message that it presents?

He who appears from the tomb as Lord is the message for Easter. Jesus has already revealed this to his disciples, “I am the resurrection and the life.” Earlier he had said, “Very truly, I tell you, anyone who hears my words and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and does not come under judgment, but has passed from death to life.” 5:24. The dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and live. “The hour is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice, and will come out – those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of condemnation.” 5:25-29. The Easter message has been from the moment of his Incarnation: the Redeemer is eternal life. The focus is not on sin and atonement, sacrifice and forgiveness. These have little meaning for this Evangelist.

In 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish, but may have eternal life.” In 3:36, whoever believes in the Son has eternal life. In 8:51, “Very truly, I tell you, whoever keeps my word shall never see death.”  The Easter message is that the one who appears from the tomb is life. “I am the bread of life. 6:35. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. 6:54. “I am the light of the world,” whoever walks with me shall have the light of life. 8:12. “I am the door…I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 10:9. “I am the good shepherd.” 10:11. The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep. “I am the resurrection and the life.” 11:25. “I am the way, the truth and the life.” 14:6. “I am the true vine.” 15:1. Those who belong to the vine will bear much more and their joy will be complete.

As long as women and men come seeking the empty tomb they will come to their own emptiness. In that emptiness hope begins. When they have arrived at the empty tomb the silence will touch them. In that silence faith awakens. As they look into the empty tomb they will see angels and know that this is a new time. Now they will know that only when the Word becomes flesh is the primordial silence shattered; and only when the flesh surrenders up the Word is the silence silenced forever. They will hear a new sound upon the earth, the voices of angels blended with the voice of the transcendent one, saying “I am the resurrection and the life.”

What is this thing called life? No one knows what life is until it is not, and when it is not it is death. Perhaps only the dead can tell us what life is and that is why Jesus is the resurrection even before he dies.

(On my own death: The Lord God created me from a clump of clay and breathed into my nostrils the breath of life. But I am not merely oxygenated clay. Somewhere on this earth, where the Lord removed my clay, a hole awaits, a wound upon the earth. It is my empty tomb. It awaits me. I know what I call life is not something I possess like a pencil or a garment. I live between my birth and my death. I am temporary. I am time’s guest upon the earth. I know life preceded my birth and it will outlive my death. It is eternal. This is what Jesus offers me. The dead will hear his voice and live. Those who believe will have eternal life).

The self-revelation of Christ is resurrection and life. “These things are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name” 20:31.

“I am the resurrection and the life.” That must mean on this Easter day:

In the empty tomb death surrenders its mortality and life awakens.

The grave is silent only when we no longer speak the words of our beloved that shaped our life. Easter’s bold announcement is: Shout!

The grave is deaf only when we no longer hear the lullaby of love with which our beloved launched us from cradle to life. Easter’s bold announcement is: Listen!

The grave is blind only when we no longer see the hope for a redeeming future our beloved left us. Easter’s bold announcement is: Behold!

“I am the resurrection and the life.” That must mean on this Easter day:

As long as there are angels in the tomb it is not empty. The grace of Christ is equally full in life as in death. This is Easter’s bold announcement.

As long as there are angels in the tomb it is not fearful. The perfect love of Christ casts out all fear. This is Easter’s bold announcement.

As long as there are angels in the tomb it is not hopeless. Christ who is lifted up will draw us all to himself. This is Easter’s bold announcement.

The Lord is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

This extensive reading for the Sunday of the Passion intends to present a panoramic view of the final days in the life of Jesus. The length leaves me with the daunting task of selecting smaller sections or particular ideas for homiletic purposes. In order to find an entry point into this vast panorama, I would like to isolate three events that serve as a trajectory through the Passion narrative in Luke while at the same time they hold the broader narrative together as a “unit” of creative story-telling with a purpose. The three events are: the betrayal, the denial and the trial of Jesus.

Luke stated clearly his purpose in writing this Gospel. He intended to write an “orderly account,” which hardly implies a chronological account, specifically that Theophilus “may know the truth (certainty, not alethia) of the things of which you have been informed, (catechesis, oral teaching).” Luke’s purpose is clearly to present the certainty of catechesis, teaching the faith through word of mouth, meaning “the things which have been accomplished among us just as they were delivered to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word.” (In Luke logos is Gospel, while in John logos is Christ the Revealer).

By the time Luke is writing, the proclamation of the word had moved from word of mouth, oral  tradition, to a written text. What Luke intends now is to offer certainty through apologetics. The entry into Jerusalem is, as is the gospel, a lesson in early Christian apologetics. There is an even more specific reason for this gospel. Luke wants to account for why the predicted parousia had not yet taken place. This is a teaching that Luke inherited. The delay of the parousia was a problem: how to reconcile it with the eschatology of the early church. The gospel is entirely eschatological. Jesus is the bringer of the eschatological kingdom of God.

Luke is writing in the context of a church that is waiting for the return of Jesus. Luke must find a different way of understanding this situation. The delay of the parousia meant for Luke that the church is still living in Exile. He must reassess his exilic thinking. There is a sense of proleptic fulfillment of redemption, but the Exile will not be ended until the parousia is accomplished. Certainly the eschatology of the Q Gospel indicates that there will be a time after the resurrection when the disciples will judge the twelve tribes of Israel and that it is hinted that Jesus will be there also. (Luke 22:30). Matthew and Luke approach the parousia differently. It was not until Justin’s Dialogues in the second century that there was an apologia for a first and second coming. How will Luke’s thinking evolve?

For Luke, what is eschatological is no longer a matter of history, and it is no longer necessary to present Jesus only as a figure of Palestinian history. Jesus by his resurrection has transcended history and only as the transcendent one can he be present to his church-in-waiting. In other words, Jesus can be present only because he has never departed. The resurrection is nothing other than the abiding, eternal presence of Christ in his church.  Luke interweaves history, legend and myth to make his case. The aim of Luke’s early Christian apologetics is not to present the certainty of fact, but the assurance of faith. This is what he promises Theophilus.

The Betrayal – Luke 22:3-6; 21-22; 47-48. The word for “to betray” is most commonly used for “to hand over” or “to deliver.” Luke uses the word in 1:2 in the sense of delivering something to someone. For the purposes of homiletics apart from vocabulary, one may say that Judas delivered Jesus to the high priests, who delivered him to Pilate, who delivered him to Herod Antipas, who delivered him back to Pilate, who delivered him back to the high priests and the crowds. The word “to deliver” is only translated as “betray” when used in used with Judas, and this only in the gospels. The account of the betrayal is itself a legend as is seen from the way it is presented in the different gospels. The betrayal is an act of Satan, Luke 22:3. Judas is not acting on his own; he has a non-human conspirator (Satan) and human co-conspirators (chief priests). In Luke 4:13, at the end of the temptation of Jesus, “the devil departed from him until an opportune time.” Now we are told in 22:6 that Judas is waiting for an opportunity to betray him “in the absence of the crowds.” The temptation is tied to the Passion by the betrayal, and the Passion itself may be said to be the final series of temptations as the trial clearly shows that what is at stake is his identity and power, that is, his origin and destiny.  In 22:30; 46, Jesus asks his disciples to pray that they not enter into temptation. The Passion already bears the stamp of temptation.

The betrayal conceals within its structure the idea that “the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed,” 22:7, as a memorial of the great deliverance of Israel from Egypt. For this reason the Passion could not have happened at any other time or festival. Hence the need arose for the dramatic entrance. This was a time for the sacrifice of the lamb, and one can hardly think through this without reflecting on the story of Abraham and Isaac. Luke uses an earlier tradition (I Cor.11) to express the continuity between the conspiracy and the exposure of the betrayer. What had become cultic activity for Paul is for Luke an opportunity to point to the betrayer. Luke 22:21-22. The betrayer has always been in their midst. He is one of them.

While Jesus was at the Mount of Olives praying, a crowd led by Judas approached him. He attempted to kiss Jesus who said to him, “Judas, would you betray the Son of man with a kiss?” (Luke 22:47-48). The title “Son of man” is a construct of the Palestinian Church, and is frequently placed upon the lips of Jesus, who never used it to identify himself. In Luke Judas did not kiss Jesus to identify him for the authorities. Jesus points out that he was in the temple daily and no one seized him. If Jesus is so well known, why is it that he must be identified by Judas?  Further, what is the content of this betrayal? Of what does it consist? It does not make sense that Judas simply points to Jesus. What testimony did he give to the high priests that may have constituted a betrayal? There is no such evidence, though the questions of the high priests (Are you the Christ? Are you the Son of God?), indicate the crimes with which they were concerned, which we encountered earlier in the temptation. I will say more on this later. In Luke 9:44 Jesus tells the people that the Son of Man is to be delivered into the hands of men, and the people did not understand “this saying.” We still don’t understand.

Because the betrayal is a legend we cannot enter into it in the same way we would enter into a historical text. Let us return to what I consider to be the formative legend of the Petrine tradition as reported in Luke 9:18-22. Palestinian Christianity was still struggling with Judaism over the identity of Jesus. Their answer through Peter is that he is “The Christ of God.”  Jesus then “charged and commanded them to tell this to no one.” A stronger and perhaps earlier tradition is offered in Matthew 16:13-23. Peter’s answer is “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” After declaring Peter’s place and authority in the church, Jesus “strictly charged the disciples to tell no one that he was the Christ.” I believe that this is a legend of early Christian apologetics. This legend clearly identifies who Jesus is, and the fact that Jesus wants this to be kept secret. There are certainly early indications that others knew his identity and kept it secret. Mary did, 1:31-35; Elizabeth did, 1:43; shepherds did, 2:10-12; Simeon did, 2:25-35. But they all remained silent. Another group needs to be mentioned who knew his identity. The man with the unclean spirit, 4:34-35; demons, 4:41; the leper, 5:13-14; the Gerasene demoniac, 8:28; Jairus, 8:56; the disciples at the transfiguration, 9:36; the followers in 10:21-24. But they all kept silent. It may be said of all these people, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God; but for others they are in parables; so that seeing they may not see and hearing they may not understand.” 8:10.Who Jesus is must be kept a secret. On the other hand, what Jesus did is well known as reports went throughout the region. 5:15; 5:26; 7:17; 7:22; 8:34, 39; 18:34-35.

Now I can disclose the content of the betrayal. When Judas points to Jesus in 22:47-48 he is doing more than saying “this is the man.” Judas is identifying Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God. This is what constitutes his betrayal: he discloses the secrets of the kingdom of God to which he was privileged as one of the twelve. These are the very things that Jesus is questioned about by the high priests. His betrayal is at once an act of disclosure and an act of disobedience. He alienates himself. I will reflect more on this when I examine the trial.

The Denial – Luke 22:31-34; 54-62. I have maintained throughout my interpretation of the Gospel of Luke that the Passion of Christ is the Passion of the Church. In Luke 22:28 Jesus acknowledges that the disciples are the ones who have continued with him through his trials. The word for trials is the same for temptations. I have also emphasized that the Passion of Christ is a continuation of the temptation in chapter four. I am addressing the essential feature of the eschatology of Luke. The eschatology of the Q Gospel is adopted by Luke in 29-30 where Jesus assigns his disciples as judges over the tribes of Israel. In 22:31-34 Jesus tells Peter that Satan “demanded” him “to sift him life wheat,” but that Jesus prayed for the strengthening of his faith. (A point to consider: why did Jesus not pray for Judas who is in the grip of Satan in 22:3? The two disciples are treated differently for a purpose). This is also an affirmation of the role that Peter will play in the church. Others may be sifted and fall away, but Peter will not. It then comes as a surprise that Jesus predicts that Peter will deny him shortly. And indeed Peter does deny Jesus three times. “I do not know him,” 22:57. Comparative denials are in 22:58, 60. However, I must examine more closely the content of the denial as I did the content of the betrayal, to reveal what the denial really means.

The point I wish to emphasize here is one that is often obscured by the familiarity with the story. When Peter denies knowing Jesus he is indeed still keeping the secret as Jesus commanded! Peter does know who Jesus is. He calls him “Lord” in 5:8. He calls him “the Christ” in 9:21. He sees him transfigured in 9:28-36. Peter’s denial of Jesus is not an act of cowardice, fear or unfaithfulness. In 22:32 Jesus prays that Peter’s faith may not fail, and by keeping the identity of Jesus secret, Peter demonstrates that his faith has remained strong by his refusal to disclose the identity of Jesus. Judas exposes the secret; Peter keeps it. After the episode of the denial, Peter disappears from the Gospel of Luke and may be seen only as part of “the eleven” after the resurrection. Peter disappears as Peter. He will appear soon as the Church. Peter and parousia are intimately connected, as I will demonstrate later. Peter has done what is demanded of him: keep the secret.

The Trial – The apologetic purpose of the betrayal is to acquit the religious authorities of the blame for the death of Jesus. Luke was to assure Theophilus that the religious authorities were not responsible for the death of Jesus. The conspiracy with Judas puts the blame squarely in the closest circle of followers of Jesus. Jesus is sent to the cross by one of his own. In Mark 10:32 “the Son of man will be delivered to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and deliver him to the Gentiles.” In Luke 18:31-32 “he will be delivered to the Gentiles” and they will kill him. The apologetic purpose of the betrayal in Luke has been accomplished. The chief priests and the scribes are absolved.

I would like to refer to what follows here as the non-trial trial. Jesus comes before the high priest, Pilate and Antipas and he is never found guilty of anything.

Before the high priest – Luke 22:54; 63-71.

Jesus is arrested in Gethsemane and taken to the house of the high priest. He is held there overnight in some sort of secrecy to avoid the crowds. Verse 66 points to the next morning as the time when Jesus appears at the assembly of elders, chief priests and scribes. They question him, “If you are the Christ, tell us.” Then they all said, “Are you the Son of God, then?” Notice that Jesus does not repeat these words. He simply answers, “You say that I am.” Jesus is indicating rightly that he has made no claims to messiahship or sonship.  The claims are not his but theirs.  This is what Judas disclosed to them. The words are on their lips, not his. Jesus is saying that their claims are an acknowledgment of who he is. Jesus is innocent.

Before Pilate – Luke 23: 1-8; 23:13-25.

The next phase of the trial is before Pilate. Now they present three charges. “We found this man perverting our nation, and forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar, and saying that he himself is Christ a king.” 23:2. Pilate questions him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus says, “You have said so.” Again, it is Pilate himself who speaks the words, “the King of the Jews.” Jesus does not make this claim. Pilate found no crime in him. Jesus is innocent.

Before Herod – Luke 23:8-12

The third phase of the trial is before Herod Antipas. Apparently Antipas after heaping abuse upon him could find no crime in him either, so he sent Jesus back to Pilate. After calling the chief priests and their followers together, Pilate informed them that he found Jesus not guilty of any of their charges. “Behold, nothing deserving death has been done by him.” 23:16.The high priests and the crows with them disagreed. Three times Pilate tried to release Jesus but they would not let him. “And their voices prevailed.”23:23. But Jesus is innocent.

These trajectories into the Passion call for new ways of interpretation and preaching.

I have presented the betrayal, the denial and the trial as points of entry into the Passion of Christ. Luke’s narrative lifts the events out of history through the use of legend and presents the eschatology of the early church. This eschatology wants to account for the delay of the parousia, the promised return of Christ to his church after the resurrection. As long as the parousia is not an accomplished event, the church still lives as a community in Exile. Luke must resolve this. Luke as the theologian of the Exile must offer the church a new understanding of itself. By making Jesus himself the eschatological event, Luke offers his readers the choice of living hopefully from the future rather than surrendering themselves to the present. The present is what kills, it holds death for all. The present is the wages of sin. As long as the church is bound to and by the present, as long as the church is only an historical reality it cannot offer salvation to the world. But Christ has been crucified and raised from the dead. This makes all the difference.

The Cross opens the way into the future, for together with the resurrection it proclaims the reality of new life, the new creation, for in the Cross all have died with Christ, and through the resurrection all have been raised with him. The Cross that rises into the light is none other than the Manger emerging from darkness. Birth and death are not separate events. They are joined together for all time by the humanity of the one who stretches between them to lift the humanity that watches from afar into the timelessness of the parousia, the eternal home of the resurrection and the Resurrected, as that which is always already here.

The Alpha is the Omega. What is Omega cannot ever leave behind what is Alpha. The Alpha is the future dawning repeatedly and relentlessly, while the Omega is dawning future, always dawning and ever future, impervious to a despotic present that wants it to remain. The Omega, the dawning future cannot remain for the same reason that the church cannot remain. The wages of sin is death. The penalty for remaining is death, oblivion, alienation. The Omega must always be about gathering up and gathering in the Alpha, beyond both beginning and end, because the resurrection has put an end to all ends and all ending. The church is where all endings end because it itself is the resurrection made visible and viable. It is where all things are made new. One can never enter the church and leave as the same person. Exiting the church is taking the resurrection into the open space called human existence that stretches ahead into an ever-expanding multiplication of redeeming grace.

That is why the parousia has never been a delayed event. It is an event always already present. It is the proclamation of Christ, not about Christ, which, when grasped in faith, brings Christ out of the Manger and onto the Cross. We preach Christ, and him crucified! The parousia in which the resurrection resides, is present in confession and absolution. It arrives in bread and wine. It rises from the water of baptism. It permeates the catechetical mystery of the church. It says the time of the Exile is over. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!

The story is reported in Mark 14:3-9; Matthew 26:6-13, and traces of a similar story in Luke 7:36-50. It is a legend that must have been handed down in various forms with varying content to address the beliefs of different communities. Legends are very useful in helping us understand how beliefs and cultures develop and how they conceptualize the things that define them. The Iliad and the Odyssey are Greek examples of legends that have shaped many Western ideas. I will not reflect on what will happen two thousand years in the future when our descendants are able to decode something called a DVD and see bits and pieces of the legend of The Walking Dead, or Twilight. What will they think of us?

In the earliest NT tradition names are absent, so the woman who does the anointing is anonymous in Mark. Participants in the dinner are not identified by name. The point of the story seems to be different for each of the four Evangelists. Concern for the poor was certainly a feature of the early Church, though the word does not appear in Acts! However, that concern is introduced to deflect attention from the activity that is taking place at the dinner table. My view is that once the anointing of Jesus was finished the story ends, that is, the anointing is in John 12:1-3a. The anointing must have raised religious and moral questions that gave rise to the need to make the event more accommodating to the religious and moral sentiments of the people. The quantity and cost of the ointment provided a way out of a moral dilemma.

It is not until the Gospel of John that the tradition introduces names. Perhaps John is using a legend identified with Bethany, so a dinner at the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus makes sense. In any case, John also takes up the cause of moral sensitivity and introduces Judas as the one who advocates for the poor. The fact of the matter is that John has no interest in “the poor” as a social class. If the idea were to be found in his thinking “the poor” would be those who are without revelation, not without money. Such is his thinking. Judas is a fortunate choice. His field of expertise is money. Later, he will betray Jesus for money and thus becomes a part of the Passion of Jesus. Judas is hence a bridge between the money (material) and the cross (spiritual) dimensions of the narrative, though in this episode that is entirely cosmetic. It is much easier to moralize about Judas than to accept what the anointing is communicating.

The episode is set as if in parenthesis between the plot against Jesus (11:55-57) and the plot against Lazarus (12:9-11). The aim of both plots was homicide.  Between these plots of homicide a drama of life, the act of redemption is being played out. The anointing at Bethany is a prelude to the entry into Jerusalem. As an examination of the events discloses, it was the entry into Jerusalem, inspired by the dinner of Jesus at Bethany that was the immediate cause of the crucifixion of Jesus. This is John’s view of history. In the synoptic gospels the anointing takes place after the entry, thus giving rise to a different understanding of history.

If we are going to uncover the deep meaning of this story we shall have to suspend our pre-understanding and shake ourselves free from the obvious meaning that is widespread.

The anointing takes place “six days before the Passover.” Bear in mind John’s dating may be more theological than chronological. Since the Feast of the Passover in CE 33 fell on April 4, the crucifixion fell on April 3, and six days before the Passover would have been Sunday, March 29, CE 33, the Entry into Jerusalem, and our Sunday of the Passion or Palm Sunday.  (The date for Passover used here is taken from the U.S. Naval Observatory Data). The Feast of the Passover memorializes the act of liberation (Exodus 12:14). The first Passover was preceded immediately by the death of every first-born of Egypt (Exodus 12:12). The Passover in our narrative also memorializes liberation, “do this in remembrance of me,” and is preceded immediately by the death of a first-born Hebrew. The prophecy of Caiaphas that “it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed,” meant that “Jesus was about to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God.” (John 11: 49-52). I refer to this as “the Passover Paradigm,” and it holds true repeatedly though unconsciously. So, read on. Jesus rising on the first day of unleavened bread rises as the Bread of Life. He is the first-born from the dead (Colossians 1:18; Revelation 1:5), the first-born of all creation (Colossians 1:15), and the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep (I Cor.15:20). He dies as a first-born and is raised as a first-born.

The anointing itself is a prophecy of the Passion of Jesus as is the prophecy of Caiaphas. It exposes the entry into Jerusalem for what it is: the final journey to the cross, and the interpretation that “now is the judgment of this world.” But this is not known at this point in the narrative, as I will show later. Immediately prior to the anointing, 11:55, the Passover is about to take place. The faithful, “the dispersed children of God,” began to arrive in Jerusalem from all parts of the world. They were coming to take part in rites of purification in anticipation of the Passover. The anointing of Jesus is a rite of purification in anticipation of the Passover. This streaming in of “the dispersed children of God” is a sign that redemption is near. This idea of Caiaphas needs to be explored further. As the people gather, they began to wonder if Jesus will really show up, given the threats he faces. The same sense of questioning took place at the Feast of Tabernacles, 7:11, where the people wondered where Jesus was. As they wondered, we are told that the authorities were seeking informants to alert them if and when Jesus showed up, 11:56.

In chapter 11, Martha is given preeminence. In chapter 12, Mary is given preeminence. The two sisters have always played different roles in the drama of redemption. The same happens in the episode of the anointing. Martha is again practicing her diakonia. Mary is anointing Jesus. The two sisters may present two different ways of understanding relationships with Jesus. But that is not an issue in this present context.

In the Evangelist Mark’s tradition, Mark 14:3, the supper during which the anointing takes place was given in the home of Simon the Leper. Matthew knew the same tradition. Luke knows that a banquet was given at some time in the home of Simon the Pharisee. Luke does not know of Simon the Leper, nor does John, for if he did it is not conceivable that he would have omitted such an important fact: that Jesus was in the home of a leper, having a dinner in his honor. That Jesus ate with outcasts is a known fact. John simply says that Jesus came to Bethany to the home of “Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead,” where they had a dinner in his honor. There is ample evidence that Jesus was a regular guest in this home, and that the people who lived there, Martha, Mary and Lazarus were his friends. Martha said to Jesus at one time, speaking of Lazarus, “he whom you love has died.” At this dinner, Martha served, Lazarus reclined at table with Jesus and the other guests, and Mary was at the feet of Jesus, anointing him. Mary frequently sat at the feet of Jesus, as if it were her favorite place. See 11:2; 11:32; 12:3; and Luke 10:39. In that culture this was the rightful place of a learner, a disciple. Mary’s place and her action are that of a disciple of Jesus. But Mary’s discipleship is about to rise to a new and different level. The Evangelist John is about to do something unique for Mary.

(If Jesus had not gone to dinner with his friends none of what followed would have happened. Lesson to be learned: Do not go to dinner with your friends!)

Mary does not anoint the head of Jesus as in Mark, but his feet. The disciple is not above her master! This is a mark of her humility, as also is the fact that she always sits at his feet. In John 13:5-11 Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. Peter was reluctant to let this happen. After a lively exchange, Peter wants to be washed all over, and Jesus tells him that it was enough to wash his feet, for then he will be fully pure. It is clear then that Jesus understands foot washing as a rite of purification. It is likely that the Evangelist intended Mary’s anointing of the feet of Jesus to be understood as an act of purification.

I propose that wiping the feet of Jesus with her hair is an act that calls for a new understanding and interpretation. It is not to be taken simply as an act of drying his feet. What it announces is that Mary shares more deeply in the rite of purification of Jesus than simply as the person doing the anointing. Her head is being anointed!  “Thou anointest my head with oil.” Psalm 23:5. More appropriately and scandalously the image implies that Jesus is anointing the head of Mary as she wipes his feet with her hair. Mary’s act redounds to herself. Herein lays the religious and moral dilemma, the scandal that cannot be talked about and must be hidden under the talk of “the poor.” It is the kind of thing that can get a fellow killed.

The visual of Mary with her hair on the feet of Jesus communicates something profound that says this is more than an anointing. She appears to bow before the feet of Jesus. 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.

My interpretation is that Mary’s mission is to reveal Jesus as the Divine. At every stage of his life Jesus is proclaimed as Divine. At his birth he is called Emmanuel (Mt.1:23). At his baptism he is called the God’s son (Mt.3:17). At his transfiguration he is again called God’s son (Mt.17:5). At his crucifixion the centurion called him God’s son (Mt.27:55). At his resurrection when he surprised the women at the tomb, “they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him.” (Mt.28:9). This is precisely what Mary has done. She has fallen at his feet to worship him. This is something that could have happened only at Bethany and only in the home of Lazarus, “whom he had raised from the dead.” Only the Divine can bring life where life was not. Yet, “He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not.” John 1:10. Mary, like Lazarus, proclaims the redeemer. There is more here than meets the eye and this needs to be investigated with skill and care.

Another aspect presents itself for consideration. Jesus is performing an act of purification for Mary before the Feast of the Passover. This is a point that is missed in the interpretation of the narrative. In Mark 14:6 Jesus says Mary “has performed a good service for me.”  In John 12:7 he says, “Leave her alone, she has done this for me.” The narrative seems always to point back to Mary. In Mark 14:9, it is said that wherever the gospel is proclaimed what Mary has done will be told “in remembrance of her.” Jesus indicates that Mary will have a future; that her story will be told over and again. This brings to mind the words from the Last Supper “do this, as often as you do it, in remembrance of me.” The anointing at Bethany communicates the deep bond that Mary shares with Jesus. This is the eternal bond of redemption. The Crucifixion like the Passover is a memorial of the eternal recurrence of redemption history.

The episode of the anointing begins (12:1) with the reminder of “Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.” The fact of resurrection is thereby imprinted upon the story. That Jesus does something extraordinary for Mary is thus not the first time that he has done something extraordinary for this family. If indeed Jesus anoints Mary as I believe he does then Jesus is again going against culture and tradition; he is breaking the rules; he is overturning the tables in the Temple. The anointing episode ends with the anticipation of the death of Jesus. One is reminded again of 11:16, when Jesus decides to go and raise Lazarus from the dead, Thomas the Twin said, “Let us also go that we may die with him.” When Martha complains that Mary is just sitting at his feet instead of helping with the household chores, Jesus replies that Mary has chosen the better part. He is acknowledging that offending cultural propriety is congruent with the announcing of the coming of the redeemer. The act of mutual anointing indicates another “horizon” event where heaven (Jesus) and earth (Mary), the Divine and the human join together for the opening up of something new. This act elevates both male and female to a higher spiritual level than has been the case before.

It is said that the fragrance of the ointment filled the whole house. This cannot have been an original part of the story. It certainly seems as if the person telling this story was present at the time to know this minor detail that adds nothing to the narrative but is rich in homiletic substance: what happens to Jesus has an immediate effect on the whole house, that is, the whole world. Jesus is the center from which the fragrance, redemption, goes forth like ripples on a pond to “all who received him, who believed in his name.” Being in the presence of Jesus is life-giving.

However, not all present were moved by this act on Mary’s part. Judas is identified by name as one who would have chosen to sell the ointment and give the money to the poor. In Mark it simply says that “some” who were present raised this concern, while in Matthew it is “the disciples” who ask the question. It does not matter who raises this concern, the point is this, that it shifts attention away from the central act: the anointing. The main point of the episode is lost.

The story is not about taking care of the poor. The narrative properly ends with verse 3a. With the introduction of the challenge to Mary, verse 7 became necessary. I believe that verses 4-6 were added to turn attention away from the unique event of the anointing that was offensive to some. Verse 8 does not belong to the narrative, but appears to be a later addition to respond to verse 5. The text has undergone changes from legend to gospel so that the meaning of the anointing is covered over and must now be uncovered through careful analysis and exegesis.

The anointing of Jesus is first, a rite of purification for the Feast of the Passover. Mary does not know that Jesus is going to his death. She did not come to anoint him for his burial, but to worship him. Anointing a guest, especially on the head, is a way of honoring the guest. We see this in Matthew 26:7, and especially in the encounter of Jesus with Simon the Pharisee in Luke 7:46. Compare Psalm 23:5. At the time of this episode the act of anointing was not considered as preparation of the body in anticipation of death. In the second place, it is Jesus who introduces the idea of anointing in anticipation of death. This is the only time in the NT when anointing is seen in this light. There are instances of anointing for healing and exorcism, but not in preparation for death. However, an idea of extreme unction did develop in the Church and was accepted as a sacrament in 1439. But it cannot be projected back into history to interpret the anointing at Bethany. This idea is foreign to the NT. In verse 7 Jesus says defending Mary, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.” It is this verse that makes Mary’s act prophetic. The anointing is a prophecy of the Passion of Jesus. It is Jesus alone who can see this. And because he anoints Mary, she is now a full participant in his Passion. Mary as humanity stands with Jesus for all of us.