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Submit Your Own! John 10:1-10 By Christie Cozad Neuger, Ph.D. See Homiletical Hot Tub on Homepage for more discussion on texts. Go to Homepage and then to Share It! and see Stories, Movie Reviews, etc. At Share It! you may also submit stories, book reviews, etc. And even submit a sermon for feedback at the Sermon Feedback Cafe. Click on Submit Your Own! Subscribers have access to approximately 60 articles (like the one below) on the texts for this week. These articles are not just exegetical articles but essays (and sermons) on the texts from theological, pastoral, arts, and homiletical perpectives. 19 years of groundbreaking articles!John 10: 1-10 is one of those passages where the socio-historical context is particularly important for the preacher to identify. It seems as if we live in a culture that continues to have a need to categorize people and to use those categories to exclude. We see this desire to exclude in an increasing tendency to make the standard of what we believe is "normal" harder and harder to fit into. Where thirty years ago we would have seen much of the behavior and feelings in the population as within the range of normal human expression, today we diagnose so much as abnormal, and often treat these abnormalities medically. Whether it is through various new psychological designations or different religious orientations, we seem to thrive on separating and judging those who don’t fit our criteria for health or normality. This passage, taken out of context or used as proof-text, could potentially lend itself to a contemporary judgment of who is in and who is out of God’s promise of abundant life. Rather than being seen as a response to an intra-Jewish conflict of the 1st century where Jewish Christians were being expelled from the synagogue for their belief in the divinity of Jesus, it can be seen as a statement of Jesus being the only way to relate to God. Just as the Gospel of John can easily be read as anti-Jew, or as univocal about the identity of God and used to further exclude already marginalized voices, this passage carries the risk of both supercessionism and religious intolerance. Given our cultural ethos of pathologizing and fearing people, we need to be careful to invite others to see this passage in context. Having said that the context is crucial for understanding the likely motivation for this passage and, thus, part of its meaning, one still has to explore the more timeless meaning and its implications for contemporary Christians. One theme that stands out for me is the nature of intimacy in this passage. For John’s gospel, intimacy is a key theme—intimacy between God and Jesus, often expressed as a father/son relationship; intimacy between Jesus and his followers; and intimacy between God and the faithful. In this passage the analogy for intimacy is portrayed as between a shepherd and the sheep. The sheep know the shepherd’s voice and respond to it. The shepherd knows the sheep by name. They are not just a flock to the shepherd but individuals with whom the shepherd has a relationship. The sheep are not just seeking any leader, but a familiar one, a leader who can be trusted. Although John’s Gospel clearly uses an image drawn out of the social and economic context of the time, there is something in this passage about Jesus/God knowing us by name that resonates over time. Especially in our world today where there is so much isolation, we long to be known. A 2006 study found that Americans are "far more socially isolated" than we were in 1985. Twenty-five percent of Americans say they have no one with whom they can discuss personal problems, which is more than double the number of two decades ago. The rise in internet sites like MySpace and Facebook, where people can chat with each other (albeit somewhat anonymously), shows a longing to be known in today’s culture even though the 2006 study indicates that people don’t use those connections to share their troubles and get support. The number of people who said that they had a neighbor as a confidant dropped by more than half in the past 20 years, from 19 percent to 8 percent.1 Various studies in social relations suggest that isolation can be a risk factor as significant as smoking in terms of negatively affecting people’s physical health. Emotional health also largely rests on adequate emotional support, especially in times of trouble and stress.2 This passage from John suggests that we, as Christians, are known by name and are led out in safety by the Shepherd, to whom we are all individually and collectively important. Not only are we known by name, according to John we are tended and protected. Whereas another shepherd might try to break into the fold for the purpose of robbery or even harm, Jesus as shepherd leads us safely and offers us abundant life, not death. The power of this relationship for our personal lives is evident. To be known, cared for, tended, protected, and offered life rather than death conveys the essence of the nature of God’s care for us. Yet, it also has implications for religious leaders and congregations. The passage goes on to say in verses 7-10 that Jesus is also the gate, and that those of us who enter through that gate become the shepherds to others. By this passage I would suggest that the obligation for knowing one another by name, offering care and nurture, and being trustworthy falls upon all of us who enter by the "gate." All Christians are obligated to become "good shepherds" to one another, to be neighbors who are available as confidants to one another, and who seek others out when we encounter troubles of our own. John’s powerful analogy of personal knowing and responsive trust offers both confidence in God’s caring and an invitation to be shepherds to one another. Such an important message, especially in this increasingly isolating time, is for all religious leaders and congregants. Christie Cozad Neuger, Ph.D. Notes 1. Shanker Verdantam, "Social Isolation Growing in U.S., Study Says," Washington Post, June 23, 2006, A03. 2. James S. House, "Social Isolation Kills, but How and Why?" Psychosomatic Medicine, Vol. 63, 2001, 223-4. Luke 24:13-35 By Frank M. Yamada See Homiletical Hot Tub on Homepage for more discussion on texts. Go to Homepage and then to Share It! and see Stories, Movie Reviews, etc. At Share It! you may also submit stories, book reviews, etc. And even submit a sermon for feedback at the Sermon Feedback Cafe. Click on Submit Your Own!
EXEGESIS: Luke 24:13-35 The story about Jesus’ appearance to two disciples on the road to Emmaus is the second of three post-resurrection narratives in Luke 24. The first occurs in Luke, verses1–12, as "two men in dazzling clothes" (v. 4) tell the women at the tomb of Jesus’ rising from the dead. The women recount what they have seen to the apostles who have a difficult time believing the news. Thus, the chapter begins with a tension between the themes of resurrection and disbelief. The story about Emmaus comes next, in verses 13–35. The two travelers on the road also go to the eleven to tell them what they have seen. As they are speaking Jesus appears to all present (vv. 36–49), marking the third of the post-resurrection appearances in Luke’s gospel. After eating with his followers and instructing them Jesus ascends into heaven. The chapter ends with the disciples worshipping with great joy. Therefore, the chapter begins with the women’s proclamation of what they experienced at the tomb and the apostles’ lack of faith after hearing their story. However, through an encounter with the risen Christ, the entire community moves from disbelief to worship, from despair to joy. Today’s gospel passage teaches its own lesson of a transformative encounter with Jesus through the Eucharistic tale of the Emmaus narrative. While Chapter 24 has a general movement from disbelief to worship, each of these three post-resurrection narratives contains its own internal transformations. In the Emmaus story the two travelers’ initial doubt eventually gives way to belief and proclamation. This transformation takes place through an encounter with the risen Christ in word and in sacrament. The passage begins with two travelers walking on the road discussing the recent news of the empty tomb (vv. 13–14). Jesus joins the two men who do not recognize him, and he asks them what they were discussing (vv. 15–17). One of the men, Cleopas, recounts what he knows about Jesus, including the recent news from the tomb (vv. 18–24). Jesus then reveals himself to the two men through an exposition of the scriptures and through the breaking of bread (vv. 25–30). The Emmaus story concludes with the two men recognizing Jesus and proclaiming their experience of the risen Lord to the disciples (vv. 31–35). This passage is rich in irony. The narrative begins with the two men’s failure to recognize that the subject of their conversation is walking along side of them. This failure is illustrated by Cleopas’ condescending tone with Jesus, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place?" (v.18). The narrator can juxtapose the perspective of these two men with the reader’s viewpoint as it is the reader who knows that Jesus has joined the conversation. This ironic tension is resolved progressively as the travelers eventually come to recognize the risen Christ, first through Jesus’ exposition of the scripture, and then through the sacrament. Jesus’ response in verse 25 counters Cleopas’ initial condescending tone. He characterizes the two travelers as "foolish" and "slow of heart to believe" (v. 25). Thus, Jesus’ frustration is directed primarily at the two men’s unbelief. While the empty tomb points to the risen Christ’s conquering of death at the beginning of the chapter, the narrative movement in Luke 24 suggests that Jesus must still overcome his followers’ lack of belief after the resurrection. Jesus’ reply to the men corrects the two travelers’ understanding of the Christ narrative by pointing to the necessity of his suffering prior to entering into glory (v. 26). Jesus accomplishes this change in perspective through an exposition of the scriptures, an exposition "beginning with Moses and all the prophets" (v. 27). This interpretation of both Jesus’ life and the scriptures is a vital step in the two men’s transformation represented by their hindsight in verse 32: "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" Hence, one key element in the men’s transformation is their experience of the risen Christ through a faithful exposition of the word. The second way that Jesus’ identity becomes manifest to the two men is through the sacramental breaking of bread. After Jesus interprets the scripture, the three travelers come near to the village—the two men’s original destination. Though the story does not indicate where the two men live, their invitation for Jesus to stay evokes the theme of hospitality. The two men urge Jesus to remain with them because of the approaching evening. In the ancient world, travelers were dependent on the good will of others, especially as night approached. The two men invite Jesus to join their company, a gracious alternative to traveling on alone into the unknown night. Thus, it is in the context of these disciples’ hospitality to a stranger that the Lord becomes present to them in the sacramental meal that follows. When Jesus is at table with them, he takes the bread, blesses it, and breaks it (v. 30). The men’s eyes are opened and they recognize Jesus in their midst (v. 31). Luke’s wording intentionally evokes Eucharistic language to suggest that the men encounter the risen Christ within the context of the sacrament. Upon the men’s recognition, Jesus vanishes from their sight. Jesus’ disappearance highlights the open-ended nature of the Eucharist. Those who journey with Jesus experience fully the risen Lord’s presence with them in the breaking of bread, and yet the meal simultaneously represents a foretaste of the heavenly banquet at the end of the age. This sacramental event represents both the here, and the "not yet" of God’s reign in Jesus.The message of today’s passage within the context of Easter is clear. The faithful community of Jesus’ followers is able to experience the risen Christ, in both the faithful exposition of the word and through participation in the Sacrament—in the breaking of bread. The scripture connects us with divine promises in the past, providing us with God’s master narrative for the people of God. The sacrament helps us to experience the risen Lord in our midst and points to our future communion with God at the end of time. It is in these two moments that God becomes present to us in our journey. Frank M. Yamada Seabury-Western Theological Seminary Evanston, IL John 20:19-31 By Erik M. Heen See Homiletical Hot Tub on Homepage for more discussion on texts. Go to Homepage and then to Share It! and see Stories, Movie Reviews, etc. At Share It! you may also submit stories, book reviews, etc. And even submit a sermon for feedback at the Sermon Feedback Cafe. Click on Submit Your Own! EXEGESIS: John 20:19-31 The gospel text for the Second Sunday of Easter (20:19-31), a continuation of the Easter text (20:1-18), contains three parts. The first episode (vv. 19-25) occurs on the evening of Easter Sunday (without Thomas) and relates the Fourth Gospel’s understanding of pentecost (i.e., the gift of the Holy Spirit). The second episode (vv. 26-29) occurs a week later and highlights Thomas’ full confession of faith, "My Lord and My God." The pericope closes with a statement of the purpose of Jesus’ "signs" as well as the Johannine gospel that narrates them (vv. 30-31). The signs are written, "that you may come to believe." On Easter evening, after the events of that day as narrated by John (see last week’s gospel text, 20:1-18), the disciples meet behind "locked doors" for "fear of the Jews." With remarkably concise language John relates how Jesus appeared to the disciples (v. 19a), bids them "peace" (vv. 19b, 21), shows them the marks of his death (v. 20), gives them the gift of the Holy Spirit, an event of new creation analogous to that of Genesis 2:7 (v. 22), and commissions them as apostles (v. 21) with the particular ministry of the forgiveness (and retention) of sins (v. 23). That "fear" should be the disciples’ primary response to Mary Magdalene’s witness of her encounter of the risen Lord (20:18) is worth exploring. (Note: "The Jews" here stand for all who are in opposition to Christ and are not to be equated with the Jewish people past or present). The disciples are fearful, perhaps, because they are aware at some level that the message of the resurrection is such that it will stir up even more hatred and opposition than they have already experienced. If so, then the "peace" that Jesus bids the community is a "peace" that overcomes the persecutions of the world, not one that protects the community from the conflict that comes when the gospel is truly proclaimed (16:53). The ministry with which Jesus commissions the disciples (v. 21) is remarkable in that it is a continuation of his own ministry. As Jesus was sent by the Father (3:17), so now he too sends the disciples; as Jesus was commissioned with the ministry of forgiveness (3:14), so now too are the disciples given this task. It is the Holy Spirit that grants the church the authority, the power, and the ability to continue this ministry in the name of the crucified one, a gift understood in John in terms of the functions of the Paraclete (14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7). In John this gift of the Spirit is given in conjunction with the resurrection on Easter Sunday. (Note: John 20:19-23 is also a text for Pentecost Sunday.) It is a commission that belongs to the entire church, not to a select group within it. Given the prominence of the "forgiveness of sin" to this ministry, one should also note that "Sin" in the Fourth Gospel functions differently than it often does in the theological vernacular in contemporary North America. Sin in John is understood not so much as our moral failure as our inability to receive the revelation of God in Christ. Sin, as John understands it, is what makes it so difficult for us to perceive in Jesus’ ministry, death, and resurrection, the activity of God. If Sin, then, is our blindness to God’s reaching out to us in Christ, what does it mean to "forgive" or "retain" such Sin? John would answer, perhaps somewhat counter intuitively, that the primary obligation of the church in this area is simply to preach the gospel. In so doing the Word, experienced as both judgment (12:48) and grace (1:14, 17), is offered to a sinful and needy world. In so proclaiming the gospel the actual ministry of Jesus is continued (15:22). In short, judgment and/or forgiveness are functions of individual responses to the Word of God (1:1) rightly proclaimed. The next episode relates Jesus’ appearance to Thomas who had not been with the rest of the disciples when they experienced Jesus’ presence a week earlier on Easter Sunday evening (20:24-29). In this encounter Thomas provides the ultimate confession of belief in the Gospel of John, "My Lord and my God! (v. 28)." This confession comes from one who earlier had limited insight into the identity and mission of Jesus (11:16, 14:5) as did the "other disciples." Though Thomas’ response to the other disciples’ confession (v. 24) has earned him the nickname "Doubting Thomas," such is a bit of a misnomer. One should remember that the other disciples also seemed not to have believed the earlier testimony of Mary Magdelene (v. 18). Their response to her report of encountering the risen Jesus was to lock themselves up "for fear of the Jews" (v. 19). The fact is, belief came to all of the disciples in the same way, on three different occasions (to Mary, to "the other disciples," to Thomas), as a result of experiencing the actual risen Christ. Rather than highlighting the "doubt" of Thomas, it seems that the Fourth Gospel is narrating how remarkable is the gift of faith to those who "have not seen and yet have believed (v. 29)." If one experiences faith, one is in possession of a gift that is more precious than that given to those who were historically closest to Jesus. Exegetes have long pondered over the tension that exists between the commands given by the risen Lord to Mary ("Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father" v. 17) and to Thomas ("Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side" v. 27). One possible resolution of this tension is to posit that when Jesus appears to Thomas, Jesus has actually returned to the Father. That is, Jesus’ earthly ministry is complete. The gift of the Holy Spirit is given (v. 22), the church has been commissioned to carry on the ministry of Christ (vv. 21-23). Only after the completion of the Son’s ministry by means of the descent and ascent of Jesus is a full confession of his person and work possible. It is such a confession that Thomas gives. The final two verses of Chapter 20 provide a summary conclusion to the Gospel of John to which Chapter 21 forms an epilogue. The "signs" that are spoken of here (v. 30) include the resurrection of Jesus and his ascent to God as well as those that are explicitly named as "signs" in the gospel (e.g., the sign of Cana, that of the healing of the Capernaum official’s son, the feeding of the multitude, the raising of Lazarus). The narrator of the gospel of John well understands that all such signs signify to the eyes of faith that God’s ministry of salvation revealed in Jesus has been completed. Although it is a salvation that awaits cosmic consummation, even now it can be experienced as eternal life (3:16, 5:24, 6:40) breathed into the church by God’s own spirit. Erik M. Heen John 20:1-18 By Erik M. Heen See Homiletical Hot Tub on Homepage for more discussion on texts. Go to Homepage and then to Share It! and see Stories, Movie Reviews, etc. At Share It! you may also submit stories, book reviews, etc. And even submit a sermon for feedback at the Sermon Feedback Cafe. Click on Submit Your Own! EXEGESIS: John 20:1-18 Structurally, John 20:1-18 consists of the accounts of Mary Magdalene’s encounter with the empty tomb (vv. 1-2) and the risen Jesus (vv. 11-18) that "bookend" the story of Peter and the Beloved Disciple’s (BD) foot race to the tomb to confirm Mary’s initial report (vv. 3-10). In John, Mary is alone in her early morning journey to the tomb when she discovers it has been tampered with. She suspects that Jesus’ body has been removed though she does not know why; perhaps by grave robbers? Mary, apparently, cannot construe at this point "resurrection" as a viable hypothesis to explain the empty tomb. She reports her discovery as well as her suspicion (grave tampering) to Peter and the BD who literally run to inspect the evidence for themselves. The BD arrives first but simply peers in. Peter impetuously, as is his nature, enters the tomb. Both disciples perceive the burial wrappings/cloth left behind. It is on the basis of this evidence that the BD, but apparently not yet Peter, "saw and believed" (v.8). Jesus had been raised from the dead. That is, the BD came to understand Jesus’ body had not been physically removed by human intrigue. Who would undress a dead body before transporting it? In this context the gospel narrator goes to some length to note that the disciples’ prior knowledge of scripture did not allow them to interpret Mary’s report ("empty tomb!") in terms of God’s resurrection of Jesus (v.9). That is, the Jewish canon of scripture alone did not help the disciples make sense of the empty tomb. Rather, it is their encounter with the resurrected one that leads them (as well as the early church that follows) to revisit scripture on the basis of their newly gained knowledge that God has defeated death by means of the Son’s unexpected crucifixion at the hands of the Romans. The experience of the crucified and risen Lord becomes the hermeneutical key that unlocks the deep meaning of the oracles of God. Mary is back at the tomb in verse 11, though we are not told how or why she returned. Weeping, she encounters two angels at either end "where the body of Jesus had been lying," perhaps a confirmation of Jesus’ own prophecy in 1:51 that the death of the Son of Man would bridge the worlds of heaven and earth. Mary repeats to the angels her suspicion that the body of Jesus has been taken. The mediating angels, interestingly, remain silent. Still grieving, Mary turns and encounters the resurrected Jesus, though she does not recognize him. Only when Jesus, the Good Shepherd, calls out her name does recognition occur (10:3). We can assume at this point that Mary’s sorrow turns into joy (16:20). She returns to the disciples and becomes the first witness of the resurrection, recounting what Jesus had said to her. The statement of Jesus to Mary in verse 17 ("Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father") has puzzled exegetes through the centuries. This is especially the case since later in chapter 20 (on the following Sunday) Jesus requests that Thomas touch his wounds. However one resolves the tension between the two commands, it is clear that in John Jesus’ mission is not complete until he returns to the Father (16:10). The counterpoint to the descent of God in the incarnation is the ascent of Jesus as the Glory of God (17:5), an ascent that is epitomized in John by means of Jesus’ exaltation on the cross (3:14, 12:34). That is, for the community to experience the fullness of new life in Christ, crucified and risen, it is necessary that Jesus return to the Father. Though it is clear that the nature of relationship between the disciples (symbolized here by Mary) and Jesus will be transformed upon Jesus’ "going up" to the Father, it is also clear that this "ascent" does not mean that God has removed Jesus from the community of believers. Counter intuitively, John claims that the return to the Father insures continual mediation of the Son of Man (1:51). After his ascent to God, Jesus can still be touched (20:27)! In some post-apostolic faith communities an extension of Thomas’ experienced "physicality" of the spiritual body of the ascended Lord is the belief that the real presence of the Word is made "visible" in eucharistic celebration (6:51). Any theological vision that perceives that the finite can contain the infinite is, of course, actually a matter of faith and not sight. The stories of the encounter of Mary, Peter, and the BD with the empty tomb, and Jesus’ subsequent resurrection appearance to Mary, illustrate the Gospel of John’s persistent claim that normally (i.e., without faith) "seeing is not believing." Not only the empty tomb, but even the appearance of the resurrected Jesus, can easily be misinterpreted. Belief that the crucified one is the full revelation of God, "the living bread came down from heaven (6:51)," is confirmed only by means of the new life that accompanies it (20:31), a new life that contains its full measure of human sorrow as well as the joy that is experienced when the one who has defeated death calls out the names of those who grieve without hope. Erik M. Heen Lutheran Theological Seminary Philadelphia, PA Matthew 26:14–27:66 By Arun W. Jones See Homiletical Hot Tub on Homepage for more discussion on texts. Go to Homepage and then to Share It! and see Stories, Movie Reviews, etc. At Share It! you may also submit stories, book reviews, etc. And even submit a sermon for feedback at the Sermon Feedback Cafe. Click on Submit Your Own! Subscribers have access to approximately 60 articles (like the one below) on the texts for this week. These articles are not just exegetical articles but essays (and sermons) on the texts from theological, pastoral, arts, and homiletical perpectives. 19 years of groundbreaking articles!THEOLOGICAL THEMES: Matthew 26:14–27:66 It is very difficult to look closely at such a large text, especially one that is so complex, so rich in meaning, and so crucial to the Christian tradition, to pick out a few salient theological themes. A more profitable interpretive strategy, and one that is used here, may be to step back from the text, so we take note of broad vistas and large movements rather than small details, and in so doing get a sense of how the unfolding narrative as a whole provides theological insight. We begin with Judas’ plan to betray Jesus, and end with Jesus’ death. This whole text can be titled, "The Triumph of Jesus’ Foes." In this narrative everything that Jesus’ opponents attempt is successful, and everything that Jesus stands for is destroyed. As we walk through the various scenes in the unfolding passion narrative, what we discover is a world that is turned morally upside down. A friend becomes a betrayer; a leader of disciples denies his master; religious leaders accuse the most religious man of irreligion; the innocent is declared guilty, tortured and executed; a criminal goes free; the one who helped commoners is mocked by them; the one who was God-filled during his ministry is left abandoned by God; a savior is put to death by those he came to save, and recognized as a savior by those whom he did not come to save. Beginning with the plan of Judas to betray Jesus, one immoral act follows another, until the world is not even immoral: it becomes amoral. Look at Judas’ repentance and death: what are we to do with it, morally speaking? The narrative gives us no hint, only rushes on into more and more moral chaos. The fact that Jesus knows what is coming (26:18) does not make the anomie any less dreadful, or any easier to bear. It certainly does not make him master of events. Perhaps it makes things worse, like the agony of someone who knows he is going to be tortured. So what does this world gone awry say to us? Years ago, while I was living in the Philippines, I read an article about peasants who crucified themselves (though not to death) on Good Friday. One peasant, when asked why he did this, provided an interesting answer: he was crucified not in order to identify with Jesus, but as a way of showing that Jesus had identified with him. The peasant’s quotidian life was an experience of crucifixion: by greedy landlords, by the military, by anti-government forces. His mounting a cross for a few hours was to hold up to the world the one great comfort he had in that world: that Christ had also experienced crucifixion, a world turned morally upside down, with him. For those of us whose live in the context of general moral order, it is good to remember how many of the world’s peoples, including great numbers of Christians, live in a context of moral chaos, where the innocent are tortured and killed, while criminals go free, where friends betray and deny each other, and judges knowingly turn innocent victims over to torture and death because of political pressure. The passion narrative, like the haggadah of the Passover, demands that we live into this reality of our sisters and brothers. The passion narrative also provides glimpses of people who do not succumb to the forces of moral chaos: people like Simon of Cyrene, the women who follow Jesus, the Roman soldiers at the cross, and Joseph of Arimathea. The interesting thing about these very minor characters in the drama is that they are not trying to "fix" the problems or the world around them. They are simply present as the action is unfolding, as the righteous order of the universe is unraveling; and they step in when the time is right to do the little thing that makes moral sense at the moment. Theirs is a mission or ministry of Christian Presence—even though none of them would have identified herself or himself as a Christian. It is being fully present to the reality around us, no matter how horrendously out of control it is, and responding as we are led and called (or compelled, in the case of Simon of Cyrene). We cannot "fix" this awful reality: we can simply walk through it with Christ. Our text ends with one final inversion: the moment when moral order appears to be completely destroyed turns out to be the beginning of a world where righteousness is restored. What is striking about the passion narrative is that the morally upside down world is not simply a prelude to the world turned right side up again. This is often the relationship of destruction to restoration in the prophets of the Old Testament: chaos engulfs Israel and after a time is followed by a new order. The sequence is temporal. Here, however, the relationship to death and resurrection is not simply temporal: it is causal. The morally upside down world is the means, the instrument by which God is going to turn the world right side up again. That is why the chaos must happen, our text repeatedly insists. The passion narrative is not a horrible but avoidable interlude between the ministry of Jesus and his resurrection: it is the horrible but necessary means chosen by God for the salvation of the world. It is akin to the Exodus, where the deliverance of Israel cannot occur without the destruction of Egypt; however, in the passion narrative Jesus is both Egypt and Moses. The moment of triumph of Jesus’ foes—his death on the cross—turns out to be the moment of the annihilation of their power. Oppression still does occur, and on a massive scale; but from now on, those who believe the story of Jesus and partake of his body and his blood—partake in his oppression—are led, like the Filipino peasant, from our oppression into resurrection life. [First Page] [Prev] 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 [Next] [Last Page] Return |
