Article

For those of you not in our area: I am the faith columnist for the Key Peninsula News, our local paper. This was my article published in the December edition. It received quite a bit of positive feedback, so here it is for your enjoyment. It was originally entitled "Just Another Article about the Real Meaning of Christmas."

It’s the story of a pregnant teen and her shame in the face of an honor-bound society. Subplots include a government that will stop at nothing – even violence – to maintain control. Throw in economic hardship, lack of affordable housing, and an ill-timed road trip. As for the characters, you have it all – from kings and priests to common day laborers and migrant workers in the field.

Sometimes this is all lost to our modern sensibilities. Christmas has been redefined for us by cute crèches adorning our lawns, by Christmas card watercolors of happy people living happy lives, enjoying their place in this drama. Choirs sing songs of silent nights, of peace, of joy and gladness and festivities as we celebrate this season.

But strip that all away and take another look. It wasn’t a silent night. Childbirth never is. Transport the scene into a dark cave, surrounded by smelly farm animals, and no midwife to be found. You can bet the cattle were, indeed, lowing. A frightened mother giving birth to her first child in the dung; and then, just when she’s ready for a quiet moment, in barge filthy shepherds clamoring about angels. It’s not the most sanitary way to begin a story.

Things take a frightening turn. The local politician, sensing a threat to his power, orders the National Guard to head into town and kill every baby boy. What should have been a celebration with visiting dignitaries turns into a midnight flight, with death nipping at their heels.

This is the story Christians tell at Christmas: a Savior born to shame and poverty, a child bullied by the authorities, a king who shows up in the grimy soil, a messiah whose coming was announced to the outcasts of society.

In the end, it’s our story, yours and mine. We who struggle with shame, who work hard to put food on the table, we who find our lives manipulated by those in power, we who have been hurt by religion and politics and family and so-called friends. We who come home with dirt under our nails and grease stains on our clothes. Who, as the old carol says, find ourselves “beneath life’s crushing load . . . who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow.”

This ancient story surpasses the sanitized store-front display and becomes our story. As the angels declared, this is “good news of great joy for all people.” “All people” includes you and me. And I don’t know about you, but I could use some joy right about now. The world is in desperate need of good news.

And so, this: God showed up, standing in opposition to the slave-traders, the bullies, the religious elite, the violent, the thieves in high places. In so doing, he stands in solidarity with the poor, the marginalized, the broken, the victim, the lonely, the shamed. There you have it: God is on the side of the minimum-wage-earning single father forced to work through the holidays just to feed his kids; he stands against the corporate powers growing rich on the backs of those workers.

If you’re feeling particularly lonely, desperate, sad, used, or angry, then remember this: Christmas is for you. Not the plastic, shop-til-you-drop Christmas of our local malls, but the real Christmas – the story of one who came to be with you in the darkness. Behind the facades of office parties and family gatherings and fake snow and manufactured joy, the real story is a story of hope, a story that gives meaning to the struggles of our lives. We are not alone, but are part of this story. God is on our side. God is with us. Emanuel.

On behalf of the Key Peninsula Ministerial Association, I bid you a truly merry Christmas, and joy in the New Year.

Mary did you know - and when did you know it?

John 2. Jesus heads off with his mom to a wedding. His disciples are there with him. But the wedding planner hadn't planned very well. Long before the party is over, the wine runs out - a disaster with immense social ramifications.

But Mary has an ace up her sleeve. She's got Jesus there. "They're out of wine, Jesus," she tells him. He pushes back. "Why me? It's not my time yet." Mary isn't one to back down, however. In fact, she ignores her son's question. Turning to the servants, she tells them to "do whatever he tells you to do."

You know how the story ends. Jesus has them fill up some empty stone jugs with water; when they draw the water back out, it has been transformed into wine of the finest vintage. The day is saved, and Jesus has officially performed his first miracle.

The thing is, every time I've heard this story told, from childhood Sunday school classes on up to adult lessons and sermons, it's related with the assumption that Mary was pressuring Jesus into performing a miracle. She knew his mad miracle skills, so decided to use him in order to fix this situation. In essence, she's asking him to do something miraculous, he says he'd rather not do any miracle, but being a good mother, she pushes him into doing one anyway.

But what if that's telling the story wrong? After all, there's nothing in her initial request that implies an expectation of anything miraculous. It seems more like a mother simply saying "there's a problem, Jesus. Fix it."

By this time, Jesus had ascended to the rank of rabbi - he obviously was an intelligent man. And he had a group of disciples; he obviously had leadership skills. Regardless of his divinity, he was a man who could make decisions and deal with difficult situations.

So what if Mary herself wasn't expecting a miracle? What if she was simply proud of her intelligent son with good leadership and problem-solving skills. What if she really expected Jesus to say "Hey Peter and Andrew - they're out of wine. Could you run over to Safeway and pick up a couple of those Gallo boxes? Maybe a '95; that was a pretty good wine. Oh, and take Judas - he has the credit card."

If you read the story without making assumptions based on the end, doesn't it make more sense that Mary's request isn't for a miracle, but simply a desire for Jesus to take charge in the situation? To figure out a (human) solution? And thereby, maybe to receive a little glory in light of her wonderful son?

I think so. In fact, I think it better fits the reading of the entire gospel of John. There's a theme running through this book of Jesus showing up in unexpected ways. Of Jesus surprising people. Of Jesus baiting the hook, and then pulling people in. From the opening salvo of Jesus coming and setting up camp among us, to the woman at the well, to Nicodemus, to the sick man at the pool. . .time and again, people mistake him for a 'wise man' or 'good teacher,' and then, when least expected, he lets his divinity shine through.

Maybe there's just a little bit of humor in this story of the wedding banquet. It might be reading a bit too much into it, but imagine Mary asking Jesus to 'fix it' - she's thinking he'll use his management skills - and Jesus thinking to himself, 'You want me to fix it? I'll fix it alright, and won't you be surprised. . ."

By the way, Ben Witherington has made a pretty strong case that the gospel of John was written by none other than Lazarus. And wouldn't this have been the very lesson Lazarus learned? Jesus was a family friend, a man with whom he and his sisters had shared meals. But then one day Lazarus had the entirely shocking experience of being raised from the dead by this Jesus. I suppose that was just a little surprising, but an instant revelation into the true nature of Jesus.

And what a good lesson for all of us. How often do we look to Jesus to manage our situation, how often do we treat Jesus just like a teacher or parent or our extra-capable child, the one we expect to deal with our little problems. But Jesus' true desire is to let his divinity shine through, to surprise us with little miracles here and there - if only we have eyes to see it. Maybe we need to go back and read this story with fresh eyes, to see Mary's utter shock when, instead of managing the situation, her son does the unexpected - he creates a miracle before her very eyes. Feel her surprise, sense the dawning realization in her heart that there's a lot more going on here than she thought. Watch the awe and wonder bubble up in her heart.

And let it teach us something new about this man. Perhaps we ought not take him for granted so much.

James Alison - Knowing Jesus

What [Jesus] gave the disciples on his resurrection, therefore, was the ability to follow him without death being a stumbling block. There was nothing left that might cause his disciples to stumble – death was swallowed up in victory. Now, see what this led them to understand: it led them to understand that all stumbling blocks – all relations where people are locked in with each other as stumbling blocks, where imitation and learning is distorted by rivalry – are related to death. The presence to them of the crucified and risen Lord was what enabled them to learn to imitate pacifically, having the deepest bonds of their relationships which were cast in modes of stumbling, loosed, so that they might no longer live towards death, but instead live with death as an incidental side issue.

What Did He Know, and When Did He Know it, Part 2

So Erin had to go and suggest I actually bring scripture into the discussion. . .

First, though, let me respond to a couple comments left by Hisstoryun underneath that post.

"(I wonder what led you to your conclusion that Jesus was only a man. It is not biblical (as you put it) for scripture does not support the idea. It is noteworthy too that you offer no supporting scripture for your theory. On the contrary, scripture supports the opposite idea that Jesus is indeed God.)"

You misunderstand my point. If that's because of my lack of clarity, I apologize. I never meant to imply that Jesus only a man. Along with Paul in his letter to the Colossians, I believe that "in him the fullness of deity dwelled." I affirm the ancient teaching that Jesus was fully God, and fully human. I simply suggested that Jesus set aside his prerogative to access his divinity while he walked on earth. He never ceased being divine; he simply chose to fully embrace humanity for the 30-some years he walked on earth.

"If Jesus had somehow given up His role and rightful place as God, how then could He be the Savior of the world because as such he surely would have been a fallible sinner the same as you or me?"

I disagree. It was exactly because he gave up his role and rightful place, and remained the spotless Lamb, that he became the Savior of the World. Now, if you're understanding of the atonement is locked into a Penal Substitution Model, in which the Perfect Infinite God had to pay the Eternal Infinite Price for our sin, then you need the Infinite Jesus to die for you; in fact, you don't really need Jesus to become human. But if you start to lean toward a Recapitulation Theory, then it becomes extremely important that, in fact, he lived the perfect human life in all its fullness - a life not relying on his own powers, but a life grounded in a relationship with his Father, who was the source of strength and life.

I appreciate the work you put into your reply; obviously, you put much time and energy into it. Unfortunately, I think you're arguing against a position that I wasn't taking in the first place. Again - I'm not saying that Jesus was "just a man." I'm saying that, when God took on human form in Jesus, God embraced that humanity to the fullest. Jesus was God, but Jesus chose to lay aside the "special position and abilities" due God - not that he didn't have them; he just chose not to use them. In that way, he showed for the rest of us what True Life looks like - the way humanity was intended to be, living in perfect communion with our own heavenly father.

Okay, back to Erin.

I think, to begin with, it comes to a question of philosophy and interpretation. The scriptures teach that Jesus was God and man. They don't teach how that worked. They don't give us any schematics. They just show Jesus at work, suffering and hurting like a human, yet performing miracles and showing "special insight" that must be attributed to God's power.

Most of us start with the preconceived idea that Jesus was kind of Superman - he looked human alright, but he had all these special, non-human powers. We point toward the verses that seem to imply this - the miracles, the Words of Knowledge - as proof, all the while ignoring (or explaining away) any verses that would seem to indicate otherwise.

But the scriptures also teach a Jesus that is human. A Jesus who gets angry, a Jesus who gets tired and hungry. And there are places where it seems Jesus' truly is lacking in information. Such as at the feeding of the 5000. "How much food do we have?" Some will say "he's just testing them - he already knows the answer." But that's an assumption based on a preconceived idea; it's not what the text says. Same as when the woman who had bled 12 years touches his cloak, and he turns around "trying to find out who touched him." Again, some say "he knew, he was just asking for her benefit." But that's an assumption placed onto the text; it's not what the text actually says.

Finally, there's this verse in John 14: "The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work."

I think there is a huge insight into Jesus' life here. Phillip has just asked "show us the Father," and Jesus replies "If you've seen me, you've seen the Father." He's talking about this interplay, this interconnectedness between himself and the Father, but it seems to me that he's saying that all he's taught and done he's done not by how own authority, but by the power of the Father working in and through him.

This also makes sense of Hebrews 4, where we are told "we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet he did not sin." Now, if Jesus was operating in his own strength as God, then this is just a game - sure he was tempted, but he was God, so he couldn't sin. What use is that? But if Jesus was operating as a human, and lived and moved not in his own power but in the power he received out of his intimate relationship with God, then there is actually something here we can grab ahold of.

Think of it this way: Jesus the Divine comes and wanders around in all his divinity, smiting demons and raising the dead and speaking Words of Knowledge because he's God. It's nice to look at, but it's totally foreign to us and gives us nothing to emulate. In fact, we could never hope to live as Christ lived. . .so why try? He's like Superman.

Or think of it this way - Jesus, though God, lays aside the rights and privileges of Godhood in order to experience humanity in its fulness (a la Phillipians 2). Now, one could argue that, since he was conceived of the Holy Spirit, he was lacking in the sin nature we all possess. I could go for that. But as Jesus grew, as he walked upon the earth, he lived and moved and had his being not in his own strength, but in the strength that he derived from his intimacy with the Father. The miracles he performed were not out of his own authority, but because he walked so closely with the Father. What he knew, he knew not because he had access to heaven's data bank, but because his mind was in one accord with the Father, and the Father revealed these things to him.

Here's why I like option 2:
- It takes the incarnation seriously. Either Jesus was fully human, or he wasn't. To take seriously his humanity, he could not live into the fulness of his Diety for that time.
- it takes seriously the verses that speak of Jesus' lack of knowledge, and all the times he is portrayed as fully human, rather than trying to "explain them away."
- It gives us a stronger mandate for discipleship. If Jesus was able to accomplish his works not because he has God's Power, but because he walked so intimately with the Father, then we have a call to walk intimately with the Father. We have this model laid before us that drives us to the Father for strength, for power, for understanding. It teaches us of the importance of relying on the Father.

It teaches us, in fact, that should we choose to walk intimately with the Father, as Jesus did, then we are living as Christ lived (what we're called to do in the first place), and that there is strength and power for us there.

I know, it seems foreign, and almost a little heretical, but I think if you go back and read the stories, and see how much Jesus relied on his relationship with the Father, if you go back and look at the anointing of Jesus at his baptism, if you look at the texts that speak of Jesus emptying himself. . .I think it's there, if you have eyes to see it.