Friday, March 26, 2010

Death of the Messiah, Part 4, Luke's Gospel, for 2010

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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, March 16, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith
.

Note: Links to the first three posts in this Lenten series can be found in the left column of this page under the MY LINKS, The Christian Calendar Series.

The Death of the Messiah, Part 4: Luke's Gospel:
Jesus: "Caring, Compassionate and Concerned"


Overview:

In Part One I introduced this series on The Death of the Messiah. I pointed out that, while we may think there is only one story of the death of the Messiah, repeated four times, in fact there are four different renditions of the story of Jesus' death, both in the details and in the portrait of Jesus presented. I also said that there is also a fifth rendition: the one that we create from the other four.

I explained that I believe that these Gospel stories were divinely inspired and God was therefore both mindful of the inconsistencies in the stories, and intentional in his/her inspiration, in that God wants us to be able to see Jesus' death from four unique vantage points.

Therefore, we do not improve on the Gospel accounts by trying to harmonize them, regardless how tempting it is to try to do so. Ultimately, all attempts at harmonizing the Gospels fail and never give a true picture of what God is saying to us in those sacred texts.

This fact, however, gives ulcers to many who believe that the stories of Jesus must all be clear, concise, neat and without factual disagreement.

Part of the problem for such people is that they insist on viewing the Gospels as history, which they are not. They are theology told in narratives, stories, and are kerygma, proclamation of the Good News of Jesus the Christ.

In Part Two, using two major examples of the differences in three of the Gospel accounts of the Death of the Messiah, we explored my contention that it is good to have four differing Gospel accounts.

Having four different depictions of both the narratives of the stories and then seeing how Jesus reacts to essentially the same events allows us to see that Jesus is a far more complex character than the portrait we often hold of him.

In Part Three we looked in some detail at Mark's Gospel portrayal of Jesus and of the events leading up to his Crucifixion.

Mark, the earliest Gospel written, portrays a very human, very vulnerable Jesus. His portrayal of Jesus, the disciples, and all of the actors in this drama of death, shows people in all of their human frailty, in their evil plotting and their despicable actions. In the end, Mark shows that we all, even Jesus, have no choice but to depend on God.

Today, with Part Four, we finish this series of Lenten Reflections looking at the very different portrayal of Jesus and the events leading to his crucifixion in the Gospel according to Luke.


Luke's Portrayal

Luke wants us to see a Jesus who is at once aware of his approaching death, but also who clearly worries about others far more than he worries about his own fate. Luke's Jesus is "Caring, Compassionate and Concerned" about others.

Just as we have not looked at Matthew because its basic portrayal of Jesus is similar to Mark's, so too we will not look at John because it is so very different than the three "synoptic" Gospel accounts (Mark, Luke and Matthew), that it would take a whole new series to explain it.

Thus, as we now come to the end of this series, we have learned that each of the four Gospel accounts paint a part of Jesus that appeals to different people, and even to the same person at different stages in his or her life.

The genius of the Gospel accounts of the Death of the Messiah is not that they agree in the details but rather in that they give four different, yet surprisingly clear, portraits of the Messiah that help to broaden our understanding of him.


Luke clearly relies heavily on Mark, but many of the details are different. While Luke shares another common written source with Matthew, called simply "Q," Luke also clearly has his own sources of information which have been handed down by eyewitnesses and others over the decades since the crucifixion. These sources were unknown to Mark.

Molding at least three sources into a coherent Gospel is clearly a task of great importance to Luke. He tells us in the opening of his Gospel that he desires to "write an orderly account" of the events of Jesus' life, that we might know the truth concerning the good news of Jesus Christ. Luke makes it clear right at the beginning that he is writing theology, not history.

And it is clear when reading Luke and comparing his account of the Death of the Messiah with the other gospels that Luke has a different theological agenda than any of the other three.

Luke wants us to see a Christ who is at once aware of his approaching death, but also a Christ who clearly worries about others far more than he worries about his own fate.

In order to really understand Luke's portrait of Jesus' death it is necessary for us to remember that Luke is a consistent writer. He wrote not only his Gospel account of Jesus but also the only deliberate account of the very early church, which we know as the Book of the Acts of the Apostles. The Book of Acts flows seamlessly from the final scenes of the Resurrection at the end of his Gospel.


Nothing about Luke's reporting of the Death of the Messiah is inconsistent with what he has told us about Jesus, his disciples, and the Christian community as reported in both his Gospel and in his Acts of the Apostles.

Thus, in Luke, the Jesus who is accused by the Jewish leaders of "perverting our nation" is the same Jesus whose infancy and upbringing was in total fidelity to the Law of Moses. The Jesus who is accused of "forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar" is the Jesus who has declared the opposite, to "render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's".

These, and other incidents in his life prior to his arrest, highlight a major theme in Luke's description of the Passion: that Jesus is totally misunderstood by all authorities, is innocent and is unjustly accused and killed.

Likewise, the Jesus who shows such great concern and compassion for others during his Passion is the same Jesus who is already compassionate; showing concern for the widow of Nain and praising in parables the mercy shown by the father to the prodigal son and to the man beset by thieves on the way to Jericho, in the story we call the "Good Samaritan."

Thus, we should not be surprised by the Jesus who shows forgiveness toward those who crucified him.

When we are told by Luke that, after the Temptation, Satan leaves Jesus, "until an opportune time," we should not be surprised that Luke writes that Satan returns to inhabit Judas, his betrayer at the end of Jesus' life.

In Luke it is much more than personal greed and sin that motivates Judas, it is the work of the Devil himself. Luke is so clear about this that one could argue that Judas was innocent of any sin, because, literally, "the devil made him do it."


Unlike Mark, who emphasizes the dullness and failures of the disciples, Luke finds them attentive and trying to learn, if stumbling from time to time. Luke, for example, never mentions that the disciples fled at the time of trial. In fact, while not at the cross itself, Luke places them, with the women, waiting and watching in the distance.

Nor will they flee after his death and head for home in Galilee as in the other Gospels, but they will await his return in Jerusalem, where Jesus will appear as the Risen Christ. And later, apostles who are derided in Mark and Matthew will appear as major Christian leaders in the Book of Acts.

Even the way Jesus behaves during his passion will set the example for how others will behave in the future, as first Stephen, and later Paul, endure the same cast of adversaries and will respond in the same way when their time comes to bear their crosses. Luke clearly shows this in the Book of Acts.

Therefore, there is a smooth consistency in doing the will of God throughout Jesus' life, death and resurrection, and, ultimately, even by the early Church after Jesus has ascended to God. This consistency in showing the achieving of God's purposes, first through Jesus and then through the Church, is a major theme in Luke's work.


Looking at the Passion itself we see that the scene of prayer and arrest at Gesthemene as described in Luke is far less dramatic and suspenseful when it comes to the actions of the disciples. No words of rebuke are spoken to them.

In fact, just the opposite, for at the Last Supper Jesus has already told them, "You are those who continued with me in my trials." And Jesus has already assured them of a leadership place in Heaven, including responsibilities for judgment of the twelve tribes of Israel.

Therefore, we can not imagine that the disciples will fall away at this late date; and they do not. Even at Gesthemene he does not separate Himself far from them, going only "a stone's throw away" to pray.

Luke describes them as sleeping while Jesus prays, but not falling asleep three times after being admonished to stay awake. Rather they sleep but once, and then only "out of sorrow."

And, when Jesus finds them sleeping he does not harshly rebuke them but shows his concern for them, telling them to get up and pray that they may not come into their own time of trial.

Thus, the drama of the scene focuses not on disloyal or cowardly disciples but on the actions of Jesus, which are caring and compassionate, and thus quite different than those described in Mark.


Unlike in Mark, this Jesus is not one whose soul is sorrowful unto death. Rather, on his knees he prays in subordination to the will of the Father. And, in Luke, that prayer does not go unanswered, for the Father sends an angel to give him strength.

This brings what has been translated into English as "agony" or "anguish" and great drops of sweat like blood fall from him. But for centuries Christians have greatly misinterpreted this dramatic scene because of poorly translating the Greek word, "agonia."

It means the great preparatory tension of an athlete warming up for a great contest. It does not mean fear or pain, as it is often misinterpreted. The angel has given him strength, not weakness.

And, at the arrest, Jesus is very calm; a calmness that bespeaks a foreknowledge on the part of Jesus of what is going to happen. He addresses Judas by name and is in no way surprised to find him here betraying him.

When the slave's ear is cut off by one of the disciples, Jesus, again showing compassion, heals him, and tells the disciples, "No more of this!" As he has shown compassion to his enemies throughout his ministry, so he shows compassion here.

Jesus knows exactly what is happening and, having been strengthened by the angel, is intent on carrying out what he knows to be the will of the Father.


The struggle is great but Jesus is up to the task. The Devil himself occupies Judas, and no underlings come alone to arrest him as in Mark, but rather the chief priests and elders themselves lead the Temple police.

Jesus knows the evil in this, telling them that this is "their" hour, a time of the power of darkness. Yet he also knows that he will overcome it.

As in Mark they arrest Jesus at night. But they take him not to the Chambers of the Sanhedrin but to the High Priest's house, or perhaps the courtyard of that house. (The Greek wording is ambiguous.)

In any case, Luke does not identify to which High Priest the house belonged. Nor is there any Sanhedrin trial that night as in Mark, but rather they hold him there, beating him and mocking him, but not asking him any significant questions.

For Luke the highlight of the evening focuses on Peter who has followed him and, as in Mark, denies him three times. Unlike Mark, however, Luke adds a poignant note: "The Lord turned and looked at Peter." Thus Jesus here makes eye contact with Peter, and it was then that Peter remembered Jesus' prediction and felt the shame of his betrayal.

This dramatic look is found only in Luke, and is symbolic of Jesus' continuing care for Peter, as he promised the disciples at the Last Supper. They may deny him but he will always be there for them.

When it is day they lead him to the Sanhedrin Council Chambers and question him. Unlike in Mark, Jesus answers ambiguously, but they read enough into his replies to decide to bring him before Pilate.

Unlike in Mark and Matthew, there is no formal Sanhedrin trial; it is simply an interrogation. There are no witnesses called, false or otherwise, and there are no condemnations issued by the Sanhedrin. All they say is that they have heard enough to take him to Pilate.

Here the Sanhedrin acts as prosecutor and inquisitor, not as judge. In Luke there is but one trial and that is before Pilate.


Through it all Jesus is calm and self-composed. He is not like the majestically supreme Jesus portrayed in John's gospel, but rather he exhibits the serenity of one secure in the knowledge that God is in charge, and he is content in the knowledge that he is wholly innocent.

He is prepared to go to his death, if necessary, knowing that he has an unbreakable union with the Father.

Luke gives us many more details of the trial before Pilate than do Mark and Matthew. The chief priests and scribes make more numerous accusations against Jesus than in the other synoptic Gospels, including both religious and political claims.

And, as Luke describes in Acts, Paul will later encounter an almost identical sequence of actors, issues and events in his trials. Thus, an important point is made in Luke: the tone for the bearing of later Christian crosses by faithful disciples is set by Jesus here.


Pilate comes off well in Luke, even if he is ultimately weak, finally giving in to the demands of the crowd, led here by the chief priests and other Jewish leaders. Initially, having heard their complaints, Pilate tells them that he has examined the charges against Jesus and that he finds Jesus guilty of none of them.

Then, hearing that Jesus is a Galilean, he sends Jesus off to Herod, Tetrarch of Galilee, who is in town for the Passover. This sidebar is only present in Luke.

Herod, oddly, is glad to see Jesus because he has heard of him and wants to see some "sign" from him. Jesus does not oblige; and while the chief priests continue to accuse him before Herod, just as they had before Pilate, Herod finds, as did Pilate, nothing against Jesus.

But Herod is miffed at Jesus' silence, so he mocks Jesus by placing an elegant robe on him, and then returns him to Pilate.

Luke tells us that, ironically, from that day forward Pilate and Herod, heretofore enemies, became friends. Thus, even while under such great duress Jesus is seen to be able to influence the healing of relationships, simply by his presence, even between those who mistreat him.


It is in this final series of scenes of the Death of the Messiah where Luke's account is even more radically different than any of the other three Gospel accounts.

Once again Pilate examines the charges against Jesus, and, once again, tells the Jewish leaders that neither he nor Herod find Jesus guilty of any of the charges. And Pilate boldly tells them that "Indeed, he has done nothing to deserve death." Pilate then proposes to have Jesus flogged and released.

All of the accusers, not just the crowd as in Mark, but the chief priests, other Jewish leaders and the people, shout to do away with Jesus and to release Barabbas.

Luke tells us that Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addresses them a second and third time, telling them Jesus is not guilty. However, Luke then tells us that Pilate caves in to the accusers, and "their voices prevailed."

Because Luke contains no scene in Pilate's courtyard of Roman soldiers beating and mocking Jesus, the implication in Luke is that Pilate handed over Jesus to the Jewish leaders who take him to Calvary and crucify him.

Later, however, we hear that soldiers along with the leaders also mocked him while he was on the Cross. So, regardless who led Jesus to Golgatha, Roman soldiers were present at his death.


What is far more clear, and clearly different than Mark and Matthew, is that the people who followed Jesus to his crucifixion included a great many who were not hostile to him, particularly women, who were lamenting what was happening to him by beating their breasts and wailing over his fate.

To these Jesus shows great compassion, warning these "daughters of Jerusalem" of the coming trials, telling them not to weep for him, but for themselves.

[Note: This scene is likely influenced by Luke's anachronistic knowledge that Jerusalem was destroyed in the period 68-70 AD when the Romans quelled a Jewish rebellion. At that time many innocents, women and children, were killed, and many Christians fled the persecution in the city. Luke already knew of that event when wrote his Gospel.]

Regardless, Jesus remains calm and concerned for others. Unlike in Mark, the first words uttered by Jesus from the cross are not of his feared abandonment, but rather, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

There is a strong implication here that the Jewish leaders acted out of ignorance, not with deliberate evil and viciousness, as in the other New Testament traditions. Clearly, as Luke describes them, they were ignorant of who Jesus was and this shows how far Jesus is willing to go to find forgiveness of his enemies.

This is a far more humane treatment of the Jewish leaders than in the other Gospels, and is a clear directive to later Christians to be gracious toward, and forgiving of, our worst enemies; something that most find nearly impossible to imagine let alone to do.

In Acts, Stephen will find strength and hope in repeating Jesus' thoughts, praying as he died under their stones, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them."

And still later, thousands of Christian martyrs will go to their death finding courage in these words from the Cross.


In another major departure from Mark and Matthew, both criminals do not mock him from their crosses. Rather, one of the two thieves acknowledges his own guilt and confesses the innocence of Jesus.

This "good thief" as we often call him, asks to be remembered by Jesus when he comes into his kingdom. And, still filled with compassion, Jesus does him far better than that, promising him that he will be with Jesus in Paradise yet that day.

Many have said that, because of the compassion of Luke's Christ, the "good thief," who offered no confession of his sin nor made any profession of faith, literally stole the keys to the Kingdom. That old saw is not far from the truth.

In the last, dark, hours of Jesus life he does not lose confidence. He does not, as in Mark and Matthew, feel abandoned by the Father. Rather he is calm and at peace, secure in his knowledge of the goodness and justice of the Father.

There is no agony recorded, only the confident giving of his life over to the Father, even as he has given his life to others throughout his ministry. Jesus dies saying, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit."

Just as the words of forgiveness have given many a martyr courage in their own deaths, so to have these words of confident trust in God given hope not only to martyrs but also to many ordinary Christians at the time of their death.


Luke, unlike the other writers, places the tearing of the curtain of the Temple in two before the death of Jesus. After his death Luke will record only acts of heavenly grace, not justice or retribution.

And, if the innocence of Jesus has not been clear enough for all who read Luke, at the foot of the cross the Roman Centurion says not that Jesus was the Son of God, but that he was "innocent."

Even the crowds who watched share the feeling of Jesus' innocence , returning to their homes in great distress, beating their breasts.

It is not necessary for the Centurian to say the Jesus is the Son of God. By this point in Luke's Gospel we are well aware that Jesus is the Son of God.


Standing at a distance are not only the women, but all of Jesus friends who had followed him from Galilee, including, of course, the disciples, who have not had the courage to go to the foot of the cross, but who clearly have not totally abandoned him as they do in Mark's rendition.

Likewise, Luke clarifies the role of Joseph of Aramathea, saying that he had not agreed to the Sanhedrin's plans. Joseph takes the body and lays it in a fresh tomb. And Luke tells us that the women went home to prepare spices and ointments for his body.

After the Sabbath Luke tells us that they came to the tomb with their preparations, only to find the tomb empty. Later, Peter, who has not gone to ground in Galilee, but who has stayed in Jerusalem, will run to the empty tomb and be amazed by what he sees.

Still later, Luke tells us that the Risen Lord appeared to Peter, thus confirming the truth of Luke's message: Jesus will be with and watch over all of his disciples and followers, even those, who, like Peter, deny him in periods of weakness.

There should be much consolation in that fact for us Christians, because most of us falter in periods of weakness and doubt. But Christ is here for us and will watch over us. He will never abandon us regardless of the strength of our faith at any given moment.


Summary of this Series of Lenten Reflections

And so ends this exploration of The Death of the Messiah. Throughout the world Christians now are in the midst of the Lenten Season.

It continues to be my hope that this brief series has been a help to those who want to understand the Christ and his Passion at a depth that they may not have known before.

I particularly hope that this series has put to rest some of the nonsense about harmonizing and homogenizing the Passion which is so appealing to many but which totally misses the point of having four different Gospels in the first place.

Just as "God don't make no junk," so too God did not send his Spirit to guide the writers of the four very different Gospel accounts of Jesus by accident. God did this so we may see the at least four different sides of the one we now call The Christ.

And finally, please remember that the Gospels do not pretend to be history books. Writing history as we know it today was not even a known practice at the time the Gospels were written. To apply today's historical research methods to the Gospels is at best a silly exercise.

Those who continue to search for the "Historical Jesus" will forever get their doctorates, their accolades, and sell their books to those who insist that one and only one portrait of Jesus must be "the right one."

But this is the same mind set that stunts our understanding of the four Gospel accounts by insisting on harmonizing the Gospels as if they were simply data sources for creating the "one" "real" story of Jesus.

But the Gospels cannot yield anything approaching an "true" history of Jesus simply because they were never written to be what we think of as history.

They were always theology, theology told in story, in narrative, form. They are now, and always have been, kerygma, proclamation, of the Gospel, the Good News, of Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, the Christ. This theology forms the foundation of the Christian faith.

To my Christian readers I offer this hope: that the rest of your Lenten journey may be one of both discovery and peace, secure in your belief that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and our Redeemer and Lord.

Monte



1874 page views 2010 03 26

Monday, March 22, 2010

Death of the Messiah, 3 of 4: Mark: Jesus Denied, for 2010

First published, Open Salon, MARCH 19, 2010 5:03PM
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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, March 11, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith



Overview: Where we are in this four part series.

In Part One I introduced this series on The Death of the Messiah. I pointed out that, while we may think there is only one story of the death of the Messiah, repeated four times, in fact there are four different renditions of the story of Jesus' death, both in the details and in the portrait of Jesus presented. I also said that there is also a fifth rendition: the one that we create from the other four, adding our own ideas of what happened during the Passion.

I pointed out that I believe that these Gospel stories were divinely inspired and that God was therefore, both mindful of the inconsistencies in the stories, and intentional in his/her inspiration, in that God wants us to be able to see Jesus' death from four unique vantage points.

We do not improve on the Gospel accounts by trying to harmonize them, regardless how tempting it is to try to do so. Ultimately, all attempts at harmonizing the Gospels fail and never give a true picture of what God is saying to us in those sacred texts.

This fact, however, gives ulcers to many who believe that the stories of Jesus must all be clear, concise, neat and without factual disagreement. Part of the problem for such people is that they insist on viewing the Gospels as history, which they are not. They are theology told in narratives, stories, and are kerygma, proclamation of the Good News of Jesus the Christ.


In Part Two we explored my contention that it is good to have four differing Gospel accounts. Having four different depictions of both the narratives of the stories and then seeing how Jesus reacts to essentially the same events allows us to see that Jesus is a far more complex character than the portrait we often hold of him.

And each of the four Gospel accounts paint a part of Jesus that appeals to different people, and even to the same person at different stages in his or her life.

We finished Part Two looking at a short but profound conclusion by Dr. Raymond Brown: "To choose one portrayal of the crucified Jesus in a manner that would exclude the other portrayals or to harmonize all the Gospel portrayals into one would deprive the cross of much of its meaning. It is important that some be able to see the head bowed in dejection, while others observe the arms outstretched in forgiveness, and still others perceive in the title on the cross the proclamation of a reigning king."


Part Three: The Death of the Messiah in The Gospel according to Mark: Jesus: Denied, Defiled, Derided, Despised"

In this essay we are going to look at Mark's account of the Death of the Messiah in some detail. As we saw before, Mark, the earliest Gospel written, portrays a scene of stark human abandonment of Jesus.

And, of all the Gospels, Mark portrays a very human, very vulnerable Jesus. His portrayal of Jesus, the disciples, and all of the actors in this drama of death, shows people in all of their human frailty, in their evil plotting and their despicable actions. In the end, Mark shows that we all, even Jesus, have no choice but to depend on God.

In my opinion, Mark gives us deep insights into the hearts and minds of men and woman, and explores the depths of the human condition like no other Gospel.

So here we are now looking together at a very human and very vulnerable Jesus surrounded by disciples who are ordinary and, usually, not very bright disciples. One professor of mine called the disciples as portrayed in Mark, DUH-ciples.

Some may feel uncomfortable with the intellectually dense disciples portrayed in Mark, and even with the very vulnerable, very human Jesus who feels and acts much like we might in similar circumstances.

Mark's Jesus is very aware of what he must do, but he agonizes over it, and, at one point, begs God to let it pass him by. Mark's Jesus shows great courage in the face of personal fear and doubt and commits himself to God even knowing it will mean his death. In the end he is, in fact, abandoned by all who followed him, and Jesus even despairs that he has been abandoned by God.

Of course, the narrative tells us later that he was not permanently abandoned by God; but Mark gives absolutely no indication that Jesus knew that. Still, he remained faithful to God even to his last breath.


Jesus is aware from the beginning of Mark's Gospel that his preaching of the coming Kingdom of God is going to get him killed. As early as the third chapter, Mark tells us that the Pharisees and Herodians were plotting to destroy him.

Jesus himself predicts His own violent death three times, long before the actual event. Yet the disciples did not understand, failed to understand, refused to understand, and did not want to understand.

Then Jesus arrives in Jerusalem intent on purifying the Temple, and it all comes to a head as the priests and scribes plot to destroy him, exactly as the Pharisees and Herodians had been doing from the beginning.

There are other hints. A woman admirer anoints His body with oil, a sign of preparing him for His death. Judas plots to betray him, and Jesus, aware of the plot, at the Last Supper indicates His willingness to pour out his blood as a sign of the New Covenant that God is offering to the people.

Thus, as he leaves the Upper Room and goes to pray on the Mount of Olives, Jesus understands the necessity of his suffering and death. But the disciples do not understand and he knows it, just as he knows that they will all abandon him, telling them that they all will be scattered.

They deny any such possibility, especially Peter. But Jesus tells Peter he will be particularly unfaithful and will deny Jesus three times. On this gloomy note the Passion in Mark begins, and it will only get darker, until, on the following day, Jesus will die with no support at all from those who followed him. He will die alone.

This tragic scenario is almost too much even for Jesus. In Gethsemene Jesus confesses to the disciples, "My soul is very sorrowful, even unto death," and he asks them to stay near him while he goes to pray, admonishing them to stay awake.

Then, he goes and prays, asking God that the cup of death might pass him by; yet saying that he will do the will of the Father regardless. There is no response from God, but Jesus accepts the will of God implied by the silence from heaven, and prepares to meet his enemies, knowing he will die.

He is resigned to his fate, even as he is disturbed that the disciples can not even stay awake while he is in this agony. They are physically present, but already have symbolically abandoned him while they sleep.


His resignation to his fate is clear. Only in Mark does Jesus fail to respond to Judas' kiss, or to the striking of the slave of the High Priest on the ear by a bystander. He does nothing to save himself, saying simply, "Let the Scriptures be fulfilled." The disciples and all the followers flee.

One, a young man, once intent on following him, flees so quickly and in such fear that he leaves his captors clinging to his clothes, running away naked, saving his skin, symbolic of the total abandonment of Jesus by all who intended to follow him.

Jesus will face death, the ultimate evil, alone. That is the clear message of Mark.

The pace now quickens and Mark takes us immediately to the trial by the Sanhedrin, the governing Jewish body in Jerusalem. What goes on in the trial is juxtaposed sharply against what is happening in the courtyard outside the trial chamber.

In the chamber the chief priests, elders and scribes hear testimony against Jesus, which Mark calls "false" testimony, testimony which does not agree on any factual details. We are not told the nature of the false testimony. But the high priest is annoyed by both the ineptitude of the witnesses and the silence of Jesus.

Trying to force an answer from Jesus he asks, "Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One." And, startlingly, Jesus answers for the first time in this Gospel, "I am." Until now Jesus had made no such claim, although we who have read Mark already know it from what God had said to him at his baptism and to the three disciples at the Transfiguration.

But far more damning to Jesus is that he does not stop there but says that he, the Son of Man, will be seated at God's right hand and will come again on the clouds of heaven. This is too much for the high priest, who declares that statement blasphemy, whereupon all of the members of the Sanhedrin condemn him as deserving of death.

Some then spit on him and blindfold him, beating him and screaming at him to prophesy. All of which is ironic for that is precisely what he has just done, and none of them believed it!

Thus, the themes which have already emerged earlier in the Gospel here coalesce: destroying the Temple, acknowledging Jesus as Messiah and Son of God. Yet, in Mark, still, nobody believes it.


In stark contrast to Jesus' faithful willingness to go the last mile for God is the scene outside the chamber of the Sanhedrin, in the court yard, where Peter has hesitantly followed Jesus at a distance. In the chamber, Jesus confesses who he is; while outside his prime disciple denies him.

As predicted by Jesus, Peter denies him not once, but three times, finally swearing an oath that he does not even know Jesus. When the cock crows, Peter realizes his sin, and weeps.

The irony is complete: Jesus is beaten and ordered to prophesy which he has already done but none believed him, and, meanwhile, other of his prophesies are coming true in the court yard.

Rather than kill Jesus themselves by stoning, which was allowed under Jewish law, the Sanhedrin instead bind him and hand him over to Pilate, the Roman Governor. Mark gives us no indication why.

But the effect is dramatic and interesting, if usually unnoticed. Up to now the condemnations against Jesus have been theological: "Are you the Messiah, the Son of God?" "Do you intend to destroy the Temple?" These are religious questions.

Pilate knows about and cares nothing about such questions. His concerns are strictly political, reflecting the concern of the Roman occupying force for stability in this conquered land: "Are you the King of the Jews?"

Now, neither Jesus nor anyone else has ever before made such a claim. Jesus refuses to take the bait, answering only "You say so;" which really isn't an answer because Pilate has actually not said that he thought that to be true. Pilate pushes him to say something, to answer the many charges the Jewish leaders have brought against him. But Jesus says nothing.

At this point there is no indication that the Sanhedrin has convinced Pilate to do anything with Jesus; but it is here that the crowd comes into play. It was the custom to release one prisoner to the crowd at Passover and Pilate asked did they wish to have the "King of the Jews," Jesus, released, or Barabbas, a rebel, part of an insurrection against Roman rule. The crowd demanded Barabbas.

Pilate, wishing perhaps to remove the decision from himself, asks them what to do with Jesus and they all shout "Crucify him!" And Pilate, apparently surprised at the harshness of their verdict says, "Why? What evil has he done?" They gave no answer; shouting again, "Crucify him?"

Mark tells us nothing of Pilate's thoughts but only that, to satisfy the crowd, he released Jesus to be flogged and then crucified.


Once again, in this scene as in the others, no one looks good except Jesus. Pilate appears weak, almost threatened by the crowd. He makes no attempt to get to the bottom of the issue; certainly makes no attempt to achieve any kind of justice: he simply wants to pacify the crowd.

First the disciple, Judas, betrays him, then the disciples all run away; Peter denies him; witnesses accuse him falsely; the high priest condemns him, as does the whole Sanhedrin to a man; the crowd turns against him, Pilate sentences him to flogging and crucifixion; the soldiers beat him, mock him, spit on him (as had the Sanhedrin) and lead him to his death.

Thus, both trials end in betrayal and mockery. And all: disciple, Jewish leaders, crowd, Roman Governor, and Roman soldiers share in the shame and guilt of desertion, betrayal, accusation, and condemnation of the Son of God. Mark wants to drive that point home and does so with dramatic clarity.


The soldiers enlist Simon of Cyrene to carry the cross, implying that the beating had made it impossible for Jesus to carry it himself. On reaching Golgotha they offer him a bitter drink, which he refuses, and then they crucify him.

Mark, who often aligns things in threes, divides the time on the cross into three periods. They crucify him at 9 in the morning, darkness overcomes the land at noon, and at 3 in the afternoon Jesus dies.

The title, "King of the Jews" is mockingly nailed to the Cross; but Mark does not see it as an ironic symbol, but rather calls it "a charge against him." For the first three hours no human being shows Jesus the slightest sympathy, not the soldiers, nor the crowd, nor the passers-by, nor the chief priests and scribes who came to watch the spectacle.

All mocked him, telling him to save himself and come down from the cross, if he be the Messiah. Even the two bandits crucified with him taunted him. Not one of his disciples came to the cross to be with him in his last hours.

Even nature itself seemed to abandon him, as the sun was overcome and darkness fell over the whole of the land for the next three hours. And in the darkness Jesus hung there alone, abandoned by all who ever claimed to love him.

And finally, mercifully, it is over, as, at 3 o'clock, Jesus cries out with a loud voice the only words Mark reports: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" These words are not new to Jesus. They are the opening words to Psalm 22.


We should not try to soften these words, as hard as it might be for us to believe that Jesus could possibly feel abandoned by his own Father. But the words are there; God wants us to hear them.

Shortly thereafter Jesus lets out a loud cry, not of words, just of agony, and dies. Jesus dies, alone, abandoned by his friends, seemingly abandoned by God. Mark is quite clear that Jesus thought God had forsaken him.

This made the other Gospel writers very nervous, even as it might make some of us nervous even now. And so they changed the final scene considerably from what Mark reports.

Our job now is to hear these words as written by Mark, and to ponder them; not to try to rewrite the Bible or to try to justify them, saying that he didn't mean them or coming up with some other nonsense to correct Mark. Our job is to try to understand the depths of despair that Jesus felt; this very brave, very faithful, very human Jesus we see here hanging on that tree.

God's reply to Jesus' death is immediate, abrupt: the moment Jesus dies the curtain of the temple is split in two, from top to bottom, a violent rending, symbolic of Jesus' claim that he would tear down this Temple "made with hands."

This huge, dense curtain was actually a mammoth drapery, over a foot thick, and was to keep everyone except the High Priest from going into the inner sanctum said to be where God dwelt.

Here Mark, not with words, but with the mental picture of the Temple Curtain, had created a significant theological picture. Rending that Curtain in two symbolizes that no more will access to God be restricted to a chosen few allowed to enter the "Holy of Holies."

From that time forward people will come to a new temple, one "not made with hands," but rather one build upon the sacrifice of Jesus. Jesus is the new Temple, built to receive those who show faith in the One who died to save us from ourselves, and from the sin within us.


Mark seldom speaks of directly in theological terms, rather he lets the theology be found in the mental pictures his writing portrays. Thus he moves quickly to another great theological truth that he lets someone else speak.

Startlingly, an outsider comes immediately into the picture of the Crucifixion, not a disciple, not even a Jew, in no way an "insider," but a Gentile, a Roman centurion, who stands at the foot of the cross and says what no man, disciple or priest, had ever before figured out in the entire telling of Mark's Gospel: "Truly, this man was the Son of God."

In a single moment God has vindicated Jesus; replacing the Temple as the center of worship and offering in its place Gods' own Son, who will be confessed as Lord.

And, as irony piles on irony, we are told that while the disciples, who were all men, fled in cowardly retreat, standing in the distance are three women, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James and Joses, and Salome; three who had followed him in Galilee and had provided for him when he was going about his ministry.

Unlike the core group of male disciples, these three female disciples, and some other women, while not coming to the Cross to share his agony with Jesus, at least looked on, waited and watched. They did not flee and totally abandon him as did the others.

And there was one other, Joseph of Arimathea, who showed some courage, which only Mark sees that way. Indeed, it must have been courage and perhaps some remorse, because Mark has told us that all of the Sanhedrin, of which Joseph was a member, had found Jesus deserving of death.

But Mark tells us now that Joseph went "boldly" to Pilate to ask for Jesus' body. Only in Mark does Pilate question whether Jesus is really dead; and, assured by the centurion that he is dead, he granted the body to Joseph for burial.

Joseph took the body down, wrapped it in linen, and laid it in a rock hewn tomb. Then he rolled a stone in front of the tomb entrance. Preparing us for the resurrection, Mark tells us that the two Marys followed and saw where the body was laid.


On Sunday morning they will return to the tomb and find it empty. For Mark, the story of Jesus' death can not end with his burial, but with his resurrection.

Mark, more than any of the other Gospel writers, emphasizes the importance of the Passion. The Roman centurion's words dramatize the very Marcan idea that people cannot truly know who Jesus is until the death of the Messiah. As reported by Mark, People may think they know; and they can guess, but, until the death of Jesus, no one really knows who he is.

Mark clearly implies that one can become a true disciple, a faithful and brave disciple, only through understanding the suffering symbolized by a Cross which strips away all human support systems and makes one totally dependent upon God. To Mark, keeping the faith means our recognition of our total dependence on God.

For Mark salvation comes not from "coming down from the cross" as Jesus was taunted to do; but from acceptance of the cross and all that entails.

Mark's community was one suffering from great persecution. As Dr. Brown says, "the gospel or 'Good News' for them was that this trial and suffering was not a defeat but a salvific example of taking up the cross and following Jesus."


Most of us do not live in suffering and persecuted communities. So perhaps an additional question for us is whether Christians can, accustomed as we are to great material pleasure, and not being used to suffering for the sake of Christ, find in Mark's description of the Passion a passion of our own for taking up our cross and carrying it in his name.

While we may not know such suffering ourselves, we do not have to look far to find millions who do suffer from the burdens of their own unjust crosses. Doing something about that can be a way we can begin to know what it means to others who, though innocent, to this day bear crosses not of their own making.

Deitrich Bonhoeffer said that Jesus calls us to "come die with me." Bonhoerffer never wished to die, but was willing to reenter Nazi Germany to carry on the work of Christ knowing that he was marked for death if caught. And he was. The Nazis executed him three days before the Allies captured the prison camp where he was confined.

We are far removed from such drastic decisions in our every day lives. But there are many who do die without help or hope because otherwise good men and women are unwilling to risk much of themselves to give to them either help or hope. And so the call remains. "Take up you cross and follow me" is still the word to Christians from the one we know as the Christ.


Part Four, the final part, on Luke, will be posted Friday, March 26, 2010.


God bless you all.

Monte

Monday, March 15, 2010

Conway Twitty: Too Sexy for Country?

MARCH 15, 2010

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Get a  playlist! Standalone player Get  Ringtones



Note: The quality of the music reproduction on the Playlist is much better than the quality of the YouTube videos. And if you don't listen to the Playlist with earphones or earbuds I doubt you will be able to tell what is so very unique about his voice and music.


YouTube videos follow this introduction


Harold Jenkins didn't sound to him like much of a name for a singer who intended to distinguish himself from the crowd so he became Conway Twitty, which was nothing if not unique. No one really knows if he, as rumor has it, conjured the name by glancing at a map and noticing Conway, Ark. and Twitty, Tx. but the name is certainly hard to forget.

Before Sue and I got married we decided to take a drive from St. Louis down to Branson and I was introducing her to country music. I asked her to fumble around in the glove box for a Conway Twitty tape.

She looked at me and said, "What's that?"

I said, "That's the name of the top country singer."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

Well, she found it, got a good laugh out of his name, played the tape -- and became another Conway Twitty fan.


Conway Twitty was a singer/song writer who had early success in rock and roll, R&B and pop. But it was in the singing of country ballads, many of which were sensuous, with thinly veiled sexual innuendos, that pushed him to the very top of the country charts for over 30 years. Much of his music was indeed suggestive and sensuous, but it never crossed the line into anything remotely vulgar.

On the contrary, it would be considered tame by today's much looser standards. Nevertheless he encountered substantial opposition to it throughout his career from the traditionalists in the genre.

Yet, until 2007 he held the record of 55 number one country singles. And, in addition to his solo career, in the early '70s he and Loretta Lynn won award after award as their duets topped the country charts time and again. His cross over covers of such songs as "The Rose" won appreciation far beyond the country genre.

His initial success was in rock and roll. Writing and singing "Its Only Make Believe" he finally had his first #1 hit, on the pop charts, not only on Billboard but in 21 other countries. That was the beginning of a strong international fan base that was to remain with him even after he crossed from rock to country and which bolstered his record sales and made him an international singing star.

After modest success in rock, some R&B and pop, by the mid-60s Conway Twitty had his heart set on moving into country music. However, many country DJs did not want to play his music because he was a "rock and roll" singer.

But by 1968 with his first country #1 song he was firmly entrenched on the country scene, without much help from either the DJs or the country establishment. Nobody liked his music except the people. They loved it.

Nevertheless, he continued to have trouble getting some of his songs played by prudish disk jockeys. Today we would find it hard the believe that the sexual innuendo of the lyrics of his songs, coupled with the way he sang them, could possibly bother a disk jockey. But Conway Twitty was not one to change what made his music stand apart from the then current country scene.

Twitty knew exactly what he was doing and became a country heart throb and sensation in the 70s and 80s, selling out every venue he played, complete with a following of swooning women, not unlike what happened to Sinatra and Elvis. County music had never seen anything like it, and hasn't again since.

While performing in Branson, Mo, in 1993 he became ill and died from an abdominal aortic aneurysm. He was only 59 years old.

Ironically, in country music circles Conway Twitty is not talked about much these days and his songs are seldom played, even on the Country Golden Oldies stations. If I had to guess why I would say that he is a victim of his own success.

His voice was unique, gravelly, ranging from a deep baritone to tenor, and he sometimes whispered the words as much as sang them. He sounded, well, the only word is "sexy." And when that voice was combined with suggestive lyrics he created an image that was just a bit too "bad boy" for some of the country music crowd.

I also think that artists that start out in rock and roll and end up in country music never are quite considered to be "really" country by the powers that be in country music. This is in spite of the fact that he was a member of the Grand Ole Opry and inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, posthumously, in 1999.

I liked Conway Twitty from the first time I heard him singing early rock and R&B and I still like his music today. All of it. And that is why I have posted this tribute.

More on Conway Twitty can be found here:

http://conwaytwitty.com/
http://www.cmt.com/artists/az/twitty_conway/artist.jhtml
http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=11:diftxql5ldfe

Lay You Down



Don't Take It Away



Hello, Darlin'



Slow Hand



Easy Lovin' w/ Loretta Lynn



I'm Not Through Loving You Yet



Almost Persuaded



Don't Call Him a Cowboy



A Bridge That Just Won't Burn



Friday, March 12, 2010

The Death of the Messiah: Part Two of Four; for Lent, 2010

First published Open Salon, MARCH 12, 2010 12:29PM



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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, March 5, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith.

Note: Part One of The Death of the Messiah, 2010 Edition can be found here: ttp://open.salon.com/blog/monte_canfield/2010/03/05/the_death_of_the_messiah_introduction_for_lent_2010

Why it is Good to have Four Different Views

of The Death of The Messiah

Overview:

Last Friday in Part One I introduced this series, edited for 2010, on The Death of the Messiah. I pointed out that, while we may think there is only one story of the death of the Messiah, repeated four times, in fact there are four different renditions of the story of Jesus' death, both in the details and in the portrait of Jesus presented. I also said that there is also a fifth rendition: the one that we create from the other four.

I noted that from the perspective of the Christian believer these Gospel stories were divinely inspired and that God was therefore, both mindful of the inconsistencies in the stories, and intentional in his inspiration, in that he wants us to be able to see Jesus' death from four unique vantage points.

We do not improve on the Gospel accounts by trying to harmonize them, regardless how tempting it is to try to do so. Ultimately, all attempts at harmonizing the Gospels never give a true picture of what God is saying to us in those sacred texts.

Therefore, I ended Part One telling you that having four differing stories was a good thing, in spite of the ulcers that it must give to those who want all of the stories of Jesus to be clear, concise, neat and without factual disagreement.

Part of the problem for such people is that they insist on viewing the Gospels as history, which they are not. They are theology told in narratives, stories, and are kerygma, proclamation. Mostly they are proclamations of the Good News (Gospel) of Jesus the Christ.

Part Two:

While our vanity makes this hard to comprehend, Christians should understand that the stories in the Bible are not written to meet any human standard. They only meet the standard that God wanted them to meet when s/he inspired the writers of the Gospels to write them, a standard which God has not felt it necessary to justify to us. I'm comfortable with that, since s/he is God and I am not.

But many are not comfortable with that at all, and have, unsuccessfully, tried to "harmonize" the Gospels, doing away with troublesome inconsistencies. We are not going to do that. In fact, we're going to look at a couple of those inconsistencies today, and then use them to make the point that it is a good thing that we have four differing accounts of the Death of the Messiah.

First, let's look at the Gospel narratives in general. If you think about it logically, the first thing you will notice is that all the Gospels do hold to a common, basic outline of the events leading to the crucifixion. And that makes perfect sense. After all, there was a basic order of events that took place, indeed, had to take place, and each of the Gospel writers had to take this into account.

Thus, Jesus' arrest had to precede his trial, and the trial had to precede the sentence, and the sentence had to precede His execution. And all the Gospels contain these elements. In other words, all share a common plot. And that is just what it is: a plot of a drama, one we call "The Death of the Messiah."

And, in this narrative, this drama, there are not only the actions and reactions of Jesus, but also of supporting characters, like Peter and Judas and Pilate. And the drama is heightened by the contrasts between these characters: innocent Jesus and guilty Barabbas, faithful Jesus and betraying Peter, and in one of the Gospels, wise and troubled Pilate versus vile and remorseless "Jews". Even the scoffing Jewish leaders have their antitheses in the Roman soldier who, in two accounts, declares Jesus to be, in fact, the Son of God.

All of these elements, while often used quite differently in the differing Gospels, heighten our awareness of the struggle going on here, between Jesus and the world that, as John puts it, "knew him not."

The personification of the characters that surround him, the descriptions of their personalities and their desires encourages us, the readers, to participate in the drama by constantly asking ourselves the question: "Where would I have stood had I been one of these players in this drama of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus?"

Perhaps we can see ourselves as being among those who welcomed him into Jerusalem as a hero. But would we be able to see ourselves as Peter, denying him? As Judas, betraying Him? Or as Pilate, either wishing to avoid the issue altogether, as in John's account, or washing his hands of the whole thing, so he might appear blameless, as in Matthew's?

Or could we see ourselves abandoning him, as all the disciples did in three accounts, or staying at the foot of his cross until the end, as did the beloved disciple and Mary in the Fourth Gospel? Or, most telling of all, would we see ourselves, could we see ourselves, as being like the religious leaders who condemned him?

Perhaps not; but we certainly don't want anyone coming around to us individually, say, here on OS, telling us we've got our religion all wrong; haven't got a clue what God expects of us; have no compassion for the poor and have indulged our own personal gluttony in the face of God's commandment to love others! I would think our feathers would get just a bit ruffled if someone accused us of that. But that is exactly what Jesus did, isn't it?

Just so, there were many real life factors that colored the writing of the Gospels, which, as we learned last week, were all written about 30 to 70 years after the death of Jesus. The memory of what happened at Jesus' death was deeply affected by the life situations of the local Christian communities in which the Gospel writers lived; and each was a little different. Each Gospel, for example, reflects how the writers perceived the Romans and the Jews.

Take the Romans, for instance. How do you get a balanced portrayal of Jesus when writing in a nation occupied by Romans? How do you offset the negative attitude toward Jesus exhibited by Tacitus, the great Roman writer, who treats Jesus as a despicable criminal; worthy of no more than a few lines in his writing?

How would you overcome Tacitus' portrayal? What if, say, you were to portray Pilate as being a spokesman for Jesus, or at least, not against him? Two of the Gospel writers did just that. If you carefully move through the Gospels according to when they were written: Mark first, then Luke, then Matthew, and finally, John.

Yyou'll see that Pilate is increasingly portrayed as a fair judge who recognized Jesus as innocent of political ambition. This viewpoint not only rehabilitates Pilate in the eyes of Christian readers, but also rehabilitates Jesus in the eyes of Romans: if a Roman Governor of Pilate's stature saw nothing wrong in Jesus, Tacitus must have been mistaken about Jesus being nothing more than a common criminal.

Lets look at just one more example: "How would you characterize Jewish involvement in Jesus' death? Who was involved, responsible, for the death of Jesus? Was it "the Jews?" If so, was it all of the Jews? Or just the Pharisees? The Priests? All the Priests? The Sanhedrin?

What about Joseph of Aramethea, a Jew? Wasn't he in the Sanhedrin? Weren't, in fact, all of Jesus' named followers and the vast majority of all the other followers of Jesus also Jews? Wasn't, after all, Jesus a Jewish Rabbi? So just who are these "Jews" who "killed Jesus?"

Well, it depends on which Gospel you read. If you wish to go easy on the Jewish involvement, or want to limit it to a handful of leaders, read Luke. In Luke there is no calling for witnesses against Jesus and there is no Jewish death sentence against Him. In fact, there is no formal night time trial, complete with the high priest Ciaphas in charge, as in Mark and Matthew. There is only a simple questioning in the morning by the Sanhedrin.

John, who is hard on the Jews elsewhere in his Gospel, also does not write that any Jews were heavily involved in deciding Jesus' fate. John records no Sanhedrin session at all after Jesus' arrest, but only a police interrogation conducted by a different high priest, Annas.

Confused? Add further confusion: John includes Roman soldiers and their Tribune at the arrest, the others do not. This is important, because no Roman Tribune could have been dispatched without the knowledge of Pilate, which would mean that Pilate was involved far earlier and more deeply than any of the other Gospels report.

On the other hand, if you suspect that it was "all of the Jews" who accused Jesus then Matthew's Gospel leads you that way; while Mark and Luke limit their accusations to the Jewish leadership, specifically the priests and the Sanhedrin. John goes easy on the Jewish leaders during the trial period because John believes that the "world" rejected Jesus and so places blame implicitly on everybody, and does not go easy on either the Romans or the Jews as groups. Both are guilty in John's eyes.

We could spend several weeks looking at, and comparing, the Gospel accounts of such things as those above, and things like: How did Jesus view His own death? How did the disciples react at Gesthemene? What did they do at the arrest? Could the Jewish trial even have happened according to Jewish law? What happened at the actual time of death? Did the curtain in the Temple split? Were graves opened? And, later, were there guards at the tomb? And on and on.

But we really don't have time for all that. And, more importantly, if we took the time, would we find out anything that would help us better understand Jesus? Well, I have done that for decades, and can tell you that studying and arguing about such questions does almost nothing to help us learn about Jesus.

What will help us know more about Jesus is to know that each individual portrayal of Jesus' death gives us an insight into who he is such as none of the others give us.

And the reason is simple enough. Each divinely inspired evangelist knows a different facet of Jesus and his Passion, and he portrays, therefore, a different picture.


What I'm going to do now is give you a brief summary of what careful study of three of the portrayals of Jesus and the events leading to his death can tell us. We will look at Mark, Luke and John. Matthew's portrayal of Jesus is closely based on Mark's, and while Matthew adds many details about events, a discussion of Matthew's portrayal of Jesus would be covering essentially the same ground as the discussion of Mark's portrayal.

Mark:

Both Mark and Matthew portray a very human, very vulnerable Jesus. Mark portrays a scene of stark human abandonment of Jesus at the time of his Passion. Yet, in the end God turns it all around, and neither the abandonment of the disciples nor Jesus' own questioning of God affects God's moment of supreme grace in raising Jesus from the grave.

Mark's gospel intends to shock. And it does. In Mark, long before the Passion the disciples were almost universally clueless as to whom Jesus really was, and, even when they came close to the truth they could not accept the idea of a dying Messiah. And it only gets worse as the tension mounts toward betrayal and death.

In the garden at Gethsemene they fall asleep, not once, but three times. Judas betrays him, but Peter is hardly better, denying that he ever knew him. All flee, one in such haste that he leaves his clothes behind, literally saving his own skin - the very opposite of leaving all things to follow Jesus.

The Roman and Jewish judges are seen by Mark as great cynics. Jesus hangs from the cross for six hours, and three of those hours are filled with mockery and three with utter darkness. And Jesus deeply feels abandonment, even by his heavenly Father. Mark's very human Jesus cries but one thing from the cross, quoting the 22nd Psalm, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"

Yet, in the end, God vindicates his Son. If the trial before the Sanhedrin was to assess his threat to tear down the Temple, God in an act of judgment and vindication, tears the veil of the Temple in two. And an outsider, a hated Roman, is heard to say what no Jew, disciple or priest, could ever figure out: "Truly this was the Son of God." In Mark, only after his death on the Cross is it possible to see that Jesus was no false prophet, but was, indeed, the Son of God.

Luke:

Luke portrays a very different Jesus. And the disciples are shown in a far more sympathetic light. They remain faithful to Him in his trials. And, while they fall asleep while Jesus prays, once, not three times, it is only out of their "sorrow." Even the enemies of Jesus look better in Luke. There are no false witnesses produced at the Jewish trial, and even Pilate acknowledges three times that Jesus is not guilty.

The people are not rabble calling for his death, but rather are grieved over what has been done to him. And, just as they show great concern for him, so too is he less anguished by what will happen to him than by what happens to them. At the arrest he heals the slave's ear and on the road to Calvary he worries about the fate of the women in the coming trials. Further, he forgives those who crucified him and even promises paradise to a thief who merely asks to be remembered, a scene only in Luke's Gospel.

Thus, in Luke, the crucifixion becomes a time of divine forgiveness and care. Jesus dies in tranquility, unlike in Mark, saying simply. "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit."

John:

In stark contrast to either Mark or Luke, John portrays a triumphal Jesus, even in death, a Jesus who long before the passion defiantly announced, "I lay down my life and I take it up again; no one takes it from me!" This Jesus knows, in advance, exactly what is going to happen to him and when, and it will happen as and when he says.

When the Roman soldiers and the Jewish police come to arrest him they fall to the ground powerless. In the garden he does not pray for the cup to pass him; for it was for this moment he was born. He is so self assured that he offends the high priest; and even Pilate feels his power. Jesus has no fear of Pilate. saying, bluntly, "You have no power over me." Nor does anyone carry his cross; this is something he is perfectly able to do for himself. Even his royalty is proclaimed in three languages on the cross and is, in fact, confirmed by Pilate.

Totally unlike the three other Gospels, Jesus does not die on the cross abandoned, but with his mother and the beloved disciple with him. And speaking to them from the Cross he gives the beloved disciple and his mother to one another, creating, as it were, a family of loving disciples to carry forward the message.

This Jesus can not cry out "Why have you forsaken me?" because the Father has always been with him, literally "in" him, and will be so through death to resurrection and glorious ascension. His last words bear no anxiety or pain, but the simple statement that he has done what he came to do: "It is finished." And only then, when he declared that he has done what was needed, does he hand over his spirit to the Father.

Even in death he continues to dispense life as living water and blood flow from his pierced side. And his burial is not something hurried and unprepared as in the other Gospels, but he lies in state amidst 100 pounds of spices - as befits a king.


In the final two posts in this series we will go into this in more detail. But let me ask you: do you despair because these portraits are so starkly different? Do you think that one is, must be, more correct? Remember, all three descriptions are given to us by one Holy Spirit, the one Spirit that inspired the writers of each Gospel.

And, understand this well, no one Gospel, or all four Gospels combined, exhaust the meaning of Jesus! In fact, a true picture of Jesus can only just begin to emerge because we have at least four differing depictions.

Why, then, is this Good News? Because by having these differing descriptions people with different spiritual needs can find meaning in the cross. And even the same person, at different points in his or her life, can find meaning there.

As Jesus did in Mark's Gospel, have you never needed desperately to cry out "My God, My God Why Have You Forsaken Me?" Have you never felt that? Do you not need to know that when you feel that way, just as Jesus did, God has not abandoned you and that he can reverse tragedy in your life?

As in Luke's Gospel, have you never been hurt by others, deeply hurt, and have finally found some relief from your anger in forgiveness? Is "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" not something that we need to hear, knowing that our Savior had far more reason to hate than we shall ever have?

Don't we, with Luke's Jesus, need from time to time to turn ourselves over fully to God, having been unable to fix things for ourselves? Can we not find hope and comfort in saying, "Into your hands, O God, I place myself."?

Yet, as in John's Gospel, are there not times in your life when you desperately need to know that evil and sin and all the perfidy of this life cannot prevail against God and those who have faith in him?

With John don't we often need to believe that we worship an all knowing, fully in control, always in command, Jesus who will guide and protect, defend and defeat every foe and evil, be it the prevailing powers, or the principalities or the purveyors of lies?

Jesus is all of these and more, far more than can ever be captured by putting pen to paper. These descriptions do not exhaust the portrayal of Jesus, they begin the task. Each Christian will ultimately find a portrayal of Jesus the Christ that fits his or her personal needs. And that portrayal will not be complete for everybody else, and may change over time as we learn more about the One in whom we place out trust.


Hopefully this brief Lenten series has begun to outline for you some of the major characteristics of Christ that will give you a basis for a better understanding of the One whom Christians call "Our Lord and Savior."

Listen to Fr. Raymond Brown. "To choose one portrayal of the crucified Jesus in a manner that would exclude the other portrayals or to harmonize all the Gospel portrayals into one would deprive the cross of much of its meaning. It is important that some be able to see the head bowed in dejection, while others observe the arms outstretched in forgiveness, and still others perceive in the title on the cross the proclamation of a reigning king."

That, my friends, is Good News.

Monte





Original posting, 1400 page views before counter was removed
This posting for 2010:

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Death of the Messiah: Introduction; for Lent, 2010

First Published in Open Salon, MARCH 5, 2010 2:36PM

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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, February 25, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. It is intended to set a tone for thinking about the season of Lent. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith.


The Death of the Messiah: Introduction

This is a Christian Reflection, written for other Christians, other people of faith who may wish to better understand this aspect of Christianity, and for others, seekers and the curious, who may wish to know about the Christian understanding of the events leading up to the crucifixion of Jesus, the Christ. The Reflection is a statement of belief. It is kerygma, proclamation. If you come here with an open heart and an intention to be tolerant of the beliefs of others, all beliefs, all religions, or none at all, you are in the right place. If not, this post is not for you.

"How Do You See the Death of the Messiah?"

This is the first of a series of four Lenten Reflections on the Death of the Messiah, in other words, on the Passion of Jesus, the Christ. The series is the result of research I did to help ordinary Christians better understand the meaning of the Death of Jesus.

It is my conviction that our understanding of Christ's Passion has been warped badly by well meaning scholars and pastors who have sought to simplify the reality of His death. Simplification is often a good thing. But when simplification leads to confusion and false understandings of what the Bible says, then it ceases to be useful.

I feel strongly that we need to understand the Cross of Christ as God has taught it, not as we might like to hear it. Therefore, four times during Lent, with our focus clearly on the death of Jesus on Good Friday, we will look at the events immediately preceding Jesus' death and at his crucifixion. This Reflection and the next constitute an overview of all four Gospel accounts of the death of Jesus.

The final two Reflections will be a more detailed look at two of the four accounts, those of Mark and Luke. We will not look at Matthew and John in that detail; but the contrasts between Mark and Luke are clear enough that you will be able to understand that, like these two Gospel accounts, Matthew and John are also different in their understanding of the Passion.

Teachng Reflections like these demand more of you than a little skim of the text. You will need to read rather carefully so that you can form your own opinions as to what is meant. In fact, contrary to many well meaning, but misled people, there are seldom simple answers, including in the Bible.

Jesus’ death was not simple. But his death, when viewed in the light of his subsequent resurrection, is the most important event in Christian faith. Christian salvation literally depends on it. And so Christians certainly need to understand it. Most importantly, Christians need to understand what the Bible says about it, not what we might have heard that it says, or what we might wish that it says.

So I am inviting you to a true Lenten “discipline,” in the best sense of that word. And I promise you that if you will pay attention the reward will be great, for you will have a far better grasp on this event that Christians believe is the pivotal event in human history.

I chose the series title, The Death of the Messiah, in honor of the magnificent, unparalleled, work of the same name be Fr. Raymond Brown. His book, The Death of the Messiah is universally recognized as the most significant contribution to understanding the death of Jesus in the history of the church. That monumental work is over 1800 pages long. Obviously, we can only glean the highlights in a short series of reflections, but I need to acknowledge that Raymond Brown has greatly influenced my own thinking on this issue.

We will be looking at a very small segment of the Bible: the passion and crucifixion of Jesus, through four very different sets of eyes: those of Mark, Matthew, Luke and John. What we probably don't realize, however, is that most of us have created yet a fifth set of eyes. This fifth set of eyes is the one by which we have filtered what we know from those four very different accounts into one homogenous account that we believe fits what happened to Jesus in the brief time from Gethesemane to the grave.

We may even think that all four Gospel accounts of the death of the Messiah are essentially the same, and that our understanding of what happened to Jesus and how he approached his death is based on one uniform account. But that is not true.

The accounts of his death are not the same in key ways; and the Jesus depicted in each of those accounts is quite different from the others. The four gospels vary substantially, both as to what the Gospel writers say happened, and as to the theological implications and conclusions that each individual writer gives to the story.

For some that may be jarring, disquieting, and they may not even want to hear it. Christians naturally want to "harmonize" the four Gospel accounts, make them into a homogenous unit, with no loose ends. Attempts at "harmonizing the Gospels" have been made from the beginning of Christianity. None have been successful.

When we seek to harmonize the gospel accounts then we fall victim to believing what we want to believe rather than what the Bible clearly tells us. We, quite naturally, I think, would prefer one set of so-called "facts" to the rather differing narratives we read in the Bible.

We are like a good detective called to take the statements of four witnesses to an accident at an intersection, each standing at very different places, and while all saw the same thing, none of the four eye witnesses agree on what they saw.

The early church struggled with this problem for many years. But, and this is very important, the church, from the beginning, believed that the divinely revealed scriptures, even while often differing in detail, were the work of God, processed through the minds and hands of man, yes, but nevertheless divinely inspired by God.

And, for over 1600 years, the church has said that, regardless of their lack of harmony, the four Gospel accounts of Jesus were intended to give us different pictures of Jesus; and that, therefore, all were true in the eyes of faith. The church has consistently held that no one account of his life, death and resurrection could capture all the facets of his life and death.

Therefore, while many individuals have tried to harmonize the Gospels through the centuries, the church has seldom encouraged these attempts, which is precisely why we have four Gospels and not one. The church has been far more content than most individuals to allow the Gospels to stand as they are, seeing them as four different, divinely inspired ways of viewing the same events.

And that is the tack we shall take in this series. The truth is that the Gospels, and the death of Jesus as reported in them, cannot be harmonized. They are different, both in substance and in theological outlook. For instance, the Jesus described in Matthew and Mark is a far different Jesus than the one described in John, in almost every way imaginable.

Now, if you are a believer in Christ you have two choices. You can say that they all cannot be true and insist on harmonizing them, force fitting them into your own pre-conceived ideas of what you think went on, or at least what you think should have gone on.

Or, you can look at the Gospels as they stand and see what God is trying to tell us about the death of Jesus through the divinely inspired work of these four stories. Fr. Raymond Brown decided to do the latter: to look at each Gospel separately and to then attempt to discern God's message from the differing texts. That is what I shall be doing in this series, using Dr. Brown as our guide.

What we shall find when we are finished is that Jesus was and is a far more complicated being than we previously thought; and that the writers of the Gospels had to struggle with that fact. And they also had to struggle with the fact that they wrote long after the event took place.

Jesus died about 30 AD. The earliest Gospel, Mark, was written at least some 20 to 30 years later but, most likely, about 40 years later, around 70 AD. Luke was likely written about the mid-80s AD, over 50 years after the death of Christ. Matthew was probably written sometime between 80 and 100 AD, 50 to 70 years after the death of Jesus.

The date of the writing of the Gospel according to John is harder to pin down, but, in any case was not before 75 AD or much later than 100 AD, that is, 45 to 70 years after the death of the Messiah. In other words, if they were writing today, they would be writing about something that happened somewhere between 1910 and 1980!

There was no intention to write the Gospels immediately after Jesus died. The whole point of writing the Gospels at all was that Jesus did not return as quickly as expected and the stories were starting to get confused, sometimes deliberately, as they were verbally passed down year after year.

The original eye-witnesses were dying off, or already dead. Many false oral gospels were springing up in the widely dispersed church. Luke makes this most clear in the preface to his Gospel where he tells us that he is writing it to set the record straight.

Each of the four gospels in the Bible was intended for the Christian community in which the writer resided. There is no evidence that the writer thought that he was writing to the church universal.

Each writer's resources were slightly different. Mark, the earliest written, wrote primarily from the oral tradition, that is, from the verbal stories of Jesus told in his community by its leaders. There is no evidence that he had any written materials to edit, although that is possible.

Matthew, writing quite a bit later, relied heavily on Mark's gospel, often word for word. It is clear that Matthew edited and adapted from Mark. But he wrote a much longer Gospel, adding items from his own tradition, the oral tradition in his community and from other sources.

Matthew also added early Christian "apologetics", in other words, defenses of the faith made by early church leaders against accusations and threats from the Jewish leaders and the Romans. He adds, for instance, scenes about the death of Judas, about Pilate washing his hands of the whole affair, about the dream of Pilate's wife, and he places guards at the tomb.

Both Matthew and Luke seem to have shared ideas from a written source that we no longer have any record of. That source is simply called "Q" for the German word, "quelle" which means "source" in English. We know this because both Matthew and Luke have identical word for word accounts in their Gospels that are unknown to Mark or John. In addition, both Matthew and Luke drew from their own oral, and perhaps partially written, traditions.

John's Gospel is radically different than the others, so different that while the other three are called "synoptic," that is, they can be "viewed together," John's is called simply "the fourth Gospel." There is no evidence that John relied on any of the other three Gospels in the composition of his Gospel, although it is likely that he had access to Mark's and, perhaps, the other two as well.

But John, even more than the other three Gospel writers, was consciously and very intentionally writing a theology of the Christ, and his emphasis is on discerning who Jesus was, what Jesus' relationship to the Father was, and on what Jesus said and tried to teach us as that relates to God's intention for Jesus here on earth.

Jesus' ministry in John is three years long, not one or one and a half as in the other Gospels; three Passover feasts are celebrated during his ministry, not one, and he makes three trips between Galilee and Jerusalem, not one. In fact, in John most of Jesus' ministry is said to be concentrated in Judea and Jerusalem, not in Galilee as in the other Gospels.

The chronology of the trial and crucifixion is quite different as well, including saying that the Friday of the crucifixion was not the Passover, but the day of Preparation for Passover, thus John has no Passover meal in the upper room (which becomes the first Eucharist in the other Gospels), but rather an ordinary supper after which he washes the feet of the disciples and proceeds to make several lengthy speeches to the disciples, speeches the other Gospels know nothing about. And there are many other differences about the last days of Jesus in John's Gospel.

But, as different as these Gospel narratives are, we must be clear about one vitally important truth that people, particularly critics of the Gospels, do not seem to understand. None of the Gospel writers was trying to write history. All were writing documents of faith, kerygma, proclamation, filtered through the eyes of faith. They were writing theology, not history.

History as we know it today, based on careful gathering of the physical facts, was not on the agenda of these writers. History writing as we know it was simply unknown to the writers of the Gospels. They wrote to tell us the Good News of Jesus, not to nail down the precise facts of his life.

Theirs was a labor of love, of revelation, of faith. They were not trying to write a nice text book that could be adopted for use in a college history course. Please try to get that fact into your understanding. It will save you enormous heartburn in the future.

So, where does this leave us? Well, if you believe as I do, that the Bible is not just another book; that it is something more than, say, the writings of Shakespeare, or Plato, or Martin Luther; if you believe that the writers of the Bible were divinely inspired, anointed by the Holy Spirit, as I do, to write what they wrote, then, with me, you must conclude that the differences in the four Gospel accounts of the death of the Messiah were intentional. And the differences will, I believe, never be reconciled by us, or by anyone else.

I believe that God gave us four Gospels, not one, on purpose. And I believe s/he expects us to read all four of them and to learn from them, content to let them be for us what they are: divinely inspired books for educating us about the great mystery that is our God, and about his/her Son, Jesus Christ.

We will, later in this series, explore two of these Gospel accounts in some detail. We will note some of the places where the Gospels do not agree on the details. Where that is the case we will try to see if we can determine why that is, or if it makes any difference at all.

But that will not be, and should not be, the primary focus of this Lenten series. The primary focus will be to allow us to see the Jesus that each writer saw, the Jesus that the Holy Spirit inspired them to write about, the Jesus that we need to know, but, in Philip Yancey's term, who, in fact, may be "the Jesus we never knew".

The next Reflection will spend some time looking at why it is good that we have four different portrayals of the death of the Messiah.

God bless you all.

Monte