Messiah*
Over the last couple of weeks we have looked at some normal, everyday people who deepened their relationship with God through Jesus Christ. Both Lydia and Cornelius were seekers of God. They had already exhausted what their regional theological traditions were offering - they both needed more. Both found resonance with the Jewish faith and both practiced their faith even though they never fully, officially converted to Judaism. Both would have been familiar with the apocalyptic hope which was fervent in the first century. They would be wondering what the anticipated Messiah would be like, and what his coming would mean for the world and all of its intertwined systems. What would it mean for Lydia's successful business if the Messiah overthrew the royalty? Who would buy her goods? What would it mean for Cornelius if the Roman Empire was toppled? As a high ranking officer, what challenges would he face?
Which leads us to 756. Or, more accurately, 756*.
On August 7, at 8:15 pm, a small white ball traveled 435 feet off the wooden stick held by Barry Bonds. It was quite a ride for that ball, and was just the beginning of its fame. That night, Barry Bonds broke Hank Aaron's all-time career home run record. The ball was auctioned off - it went for over $750,000, from Marc Ecko's wallet. And then he created a website to allow 10M of his closest friends decide the fate of the ball. The votes rolled in, and it was determined to brand the famous ball with an asterisk.
Even non-baseball fans (e.g., Dodger fans) heard about the asterisk. Why would so many people wanted the ball branded before it found it was entombed in the Baseball Hall of Fame? Bonds found himself at the center of the debate revolving around steroid use. In the court of human opinion, many believed that the only reason Bonds was able to break the record was because he used performance enhancing drugs. The asterisk is a reminder - forever - that this was in question.
For most Jewish people living in the first century, when the story of Jesus was told of him being the long-awaited Messiah, there was an asterisk next to his name. The story starts off strong - lots of stats that are very impressive. He was in the Davidic line, he healed people, he taught well, he lived right, no skeletons in his closet, etc. But then came that horrible Passover week. Like other revolutionary figures, the Roman government moved Jesus quickly through their judicial process, found him guilty, and immediately carried out "justice". He was crucified - a horrible death meant to instill fear in the hearts of all who looked upon it. So far, this wasn't asterisk worthy. It's what happened next that created the unavoidable brand: he died.
The long-awaited Messiah doesn't get killed - he champions those who try to kill him! He can't be the Messiah because he was defeated.
There is much controversy over the details immediately following his death: who was Joseph of Arimethea, why did he want to handle Jesus' corpse, and where did he put it. If you really want a careful examination of the events immediately following the death of Jesus and his burial, read James McGrath's The Burial of Jesus: What Does History Have to do With Faith? Some in Christendom are very uncomfortable with apparent discrepancies, and simply write them off as inconsequential differences in details from varying perspectives. Historians object, however, and question the historical merit of later Gospel writers. but one thing is clear from all voices at the table: Jesus died, and the disciples were none too shy to say so.
This point is somewhat lost on us because of our familiarity with the story and because traditionally our focus is on Easter, not on Good Friday, when Jesus' death is commemorated. But I think Easter is significantly strengthened when we appreciate Jesus' death more deeply. As has already been mentioned, most people, upon hearing this news, would write off Jesus-as-Messiah altogether. End of conversation. The Jewish Messiah doesn't lose, and death is the ultimate defeat. What probably kept people in the conversation, however, was their realization that Jesus' death in no way deterred his apostles from declaring the Gospel message. Death was not the end, nor was it simply a necessary stopping point en route to Easter dawn.
I've been pondering Jesus' death a lot this week, and I think there are three aspects that are worth some serious reflection. The first and least has to do with forgiveness of sin. Least only because of its level of saturation in our culture. When John's Gospel introduces us to Jesus as he was beginning his ministry with baptism, John the Baptist declares, "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world." It think God is an endlessly, recklessly, lavishly, prodigiously forgiving God. Seeing Jesus' death as a final sacrifice certainly accentuates this truth. But I think that our culture for the most part already assumes God's grace. Go to any funeral and you will find people absolutely certain that "Uncle Harold" is sipping through his case of Bud fishing for trout in that holy river in the sky, even though he never gave a rip about God or anybody but himself his entire life. Why do we say such things with such confidence? I believe it's because the message of God's amazing grace has been clearly communicated for a long time. This is somewhat ironic, since Fundamentalism has been strongest over the last 200 years in our country, and generally leans toward an ungraceful depiction of God - God only forgives, ultimately, a minority of people. That same vantage point has in my opinion over-emphasized the priestly understanding of Jesus' death, which is all about eradicating sin. Unfortunately, that message is so loud it drowns out two other equally impressive truths about Jesus' death.
Given that Jesus was recognized as a healer and brilliant teacher, his death would have been striking. Couldn't he have worked some magic or said a prayer to get down from that cross? Called in some angels for air support, perhaps? He didn't, because that would have been inconsistent with his teaching and his life's message. Jesus was radically non-violent, even when taunted and beaten. That's commitment to your cause. That gets my attention more than if he pulled a Rambo maneuver and turned the tables on Rome. He died for the message he came to bring consistent with how he lived: with grace. That commands great respect in my book. That requires tremendous courage and strength. That keeps me listening.
Jesus was not afraid to call people to serious commitment. Some of his greatest crowds heard him speak, and then walked away from him when he actually called them to sacrifice for him and the Kingdom of God he came to bring. The death of Jesus, then, becomes the ultimate model for what it means to be his disciple: really willing to sell out for the Kingdom. People who are really looking for that bigger vision than their personal kingdom resonate with this. People like Lydia and Cornelius who had all the luxury they needed yet sought for something greater. They found it in the message of Jesus, and in the inherent call to give their lives to the cause if they really wanted to see the Kingdom come. And they did.
I think Jesus would have similar results today as he did in the first century. I think most people today would walk away from his message when the call for commitment was issued. I think we would really struggle with the tension of living sacrificially, allowing God to influence the stewardship of everything we are and own, and humanity's natural desires that are so often rooted in greed for more stuff, more power, more security, more... Insatiable appetites for more. Maybe I'm the only one who struggles with this tension?
I think the death of Jesus with its deep implications would move me to commit. What happened at Easter and Pentecost would be incredible bonuses, of course, but the whole life of Jesus finds the perfect climax in his death.
What for some is an asterisk that forever casts doubt is for me cause to follow with greater abandon. May it have similar affect on you. May we see the Kingdom increasingly come as we follow the call to live so boldly.
*Killed by Rome and Buried
