There is thus a world-denying and culture-denying quality to the teaching of Jesus. The statement needs to be guarded against three possible misinterpretations. It was not a world denial based upon a dualistic understanding of the material or natural world as evil, and the world of Spirit as good. Jesus took delight in the natural world as the creation of God. He was not an ascetic in the usual sense of the word; he was reputed to enjoy both food and drink, and was known for banqueting with outcasts. Though he spoke of abandoning the family as the center of one’s loyalty and security and apparently was unmarried himself,75 there is no reason to think that he was opposed to sexuality. Indeed, he sanctified the family more than his tradition did.76 In short, it was not the natural world or the finite itself that was evil; consistent with the Jewish tradition, Jesus saw that as created by God and therefore good.
Second, his challenge to conventional wisdom was not a complete overthrowing or disregard of tradition. He was, in an important sense neither anti-law nor anti-convention. He was a Jew who treasured his tradition. He quoted Scripture, explicitly affirmed the Ten Commandments, and so far as we know observed the Jewish law all his life.77 Rather, his challenge to conventional wisdom was a challenge to what may be called “enculturated religion”: religion accommodated to conventional wisdom and increasingly shaped by those who were the beneficiaries of conventional wisdom. When this happens, religion becomes a legitimator of a way of life rather than invitation to a new way of life. In short, it was the world of conventional wisdom as the center of identity and security that was negated.78 In this sense, the teaching of Jesus is world denying; indeed, the world of culture as the center of existence comes to an end.
Third, Jesus’ challenge to conventional wisdom must always be kept within the framework of his perception of reality as gracious and compassionate. His challenge must not be seen as a new requirement; when it is, his teaching becomes another form of conventional wisdom, sometimes a very severe one. Rather, his challenge is an invitation to see things as they really are—namely, at the heart of everything is a reality that is in love with us. Thus, though his way was the narrow way, “the eye of the needle,” it was also somewhat paradoxically the easy way. It was hard especially for those who were secure within the framework of conventional wisdom; for them to die to the world meant letting go of a world which pronounced them “blessed.” Yet his way was also the “easy yoke” for some, for those who were burdened by the world of culture: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest; for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”79
CONCLUSION: JESUS AS TRANSFORMATIVE SAGE
Jesus was not the first in Jewish history to criticize conventional wisdom. In the Hebrew Bible, the authors of Ecclesiastes and Job protested against the conventional wisdom represented by the book of Proverbs, that easy confidence that the righteous would prosper and the wicked wither.80 They were subversive sages who challenged and subverted the popular wisdom of their day.81
Jesus stood in this tradition of subversive wisdom.82 He used the forms of wisdom to subvert conventional ways of seeing. His proverbs and parables often reversed ordinary perception, functioning to jolt his hearers out of their present “world,” their present way of seeing reality.83 The content of his teaching also subverted the world of conventional wisdom, in several ways. His picture of God as gracious undermined conventional wisdom’s understanding of reality. He attacked the “broad way” of conventional wisdom as an inadequate means for bringing about an internal transformation. Indeed, he saw it not only as an inadequate cure but as part of the problem. It easily became a snare, catching the self in its promise of security and identity, preoccupying the self in external matters, limiting its vision and narrowing its concern and compassion. Jesus subverted conventional wisdom at its roots, seeing it and the self-concern it fostered as the primary rival to centering in God and as the primary source of blindness to the graciousness of God.
Finally, however, his teaching involved more than a subverting of conventional wisdom. He affirmed another vision and another way. He taught an alternative way of being and an alternative consciousness shaped by the relationship to Spirit and not primarily by the dominant consciousness of culture. He was thus not only a subversive sage but a transformative sage.
There is a connection between Jesus’ experience as a Spirit-filled person and the path which he taught. That path was firmly grounded in the Old Testament, at whose heart lies the notion of two ways, one the way of radical monotheism and the other the way of infidelity. Yet Jesus crystalized this understanding with such power and freshness of language, and applied it with such radical effect, that it is difficult to believe that he simply learned it from the study of tradition. It is more plausible to suppose that his intensity of perception and conviction together with the vividness of his language have their origin in Jesus’ own experience as a Spirit-filled person. As a charismatic, Jesus was one who knew God; as a sage, Jesus was one who spoke about God, and we may suppose that the two facts are related. His image of reality and the path which he taught, sharply contrasting to the dominant consciousness of his day, came out of his relationship to Spirit. Standing in the charismatic stream of his own tradition, Jesus called his hearers to a life grounded in Spirit rather than one grounded in culture.
Yet he was also more than a sage. Unlike the subversive sages of the Old Testament who apparently carried out their criticism within the school of wisdom itself,84 Jesus carried his criticism of conventional wisdom directly to the public in a mission that was national in scope. He founded a revitalization movement which sought the transformation of the historical path of his people.
NOTES
7. Jesus as Revitalization Movement Founder
We are not accustomed to thinking of Jesus as a political figure. In a narrow sense, he was not. He neither held nor sought political office, was neither a military leader nor a political reformer with a detailed political-economic platform. But he was political in the more comprehensive and important sense of the word: politics as the shaping of a community living in history.1
In this sense his own tradition was deeply political, and so was he. His concern was not simply the individual and the individual’s relationship to God, though obviously he was concerned about that. But the way of transformation he taught was not divorced from the particularities of his social world and the crisis which was convulsing it. Just as he challenged the conventional wisdom at the heart of his social world, so he also challenged the politics of holiness as the dynamic shaping his people’s corporate life. We see his political concern in his roles as revitalization movement founder and prophet, and in his final appeal to Jerusalem.
JESUS AS REVITALIZATION MOVEMENT FOUNDER
We commonly think of Jesus as the founder of Christianity. But, strictly speaking, this is not historically true. Instead, his concern was the renewal of Israel. Toward this end, he created a sectarian revitalization or renewal movement within Israel, now commonly called the “Jesus movement,”2 whose purpose was the transformation of the Jewish social world.
The relationship between a renewal or revitalization movement and a social world is one of both affirmation and advocacy of change. On the one hand, such movements profess a strong loyalty to an inherited social world or tradition (if they did not, we would speak of them as new movements rather than renewal or revitalization movements). On the other hand, they claim that present circumstances call for a radical response. Spawned by a perceived difference between how things are and how they ought to be, all within the framework of a tradition, they affirm a tradition, even as they seek to revitalize or transform it.3
The fact that Jesus did not intend to create a new religion but intended the revitalization of his own tradition does not mean that Christianity is a mistake. Rather, Christianity as a religion separate from Judaism came into existence as the result of a historical process which took several decades after his death. Two factors were most important. As a re
vitalization movement within Judaism after his death, the Jesus movement in an important sense failed. Though most of its early members were Palestinian Jews, it did not capture the allegiance of the majority of the Jewish people. The second factor leading to separation was the success of the Jesus movement in the Mediterranean world outside of Palestine. There it quickly became a mixed community of Jews and Gentiles, and the more Gentiles it attracted, the more it seemed distinct from Judaism.4 Thus, before the end of the first century, Christianity had in effect become a “new” religion.5 Henceforth, though Christianity continued to affirm its connection to Judaism, the connection was increasingly to the Old Testament rather than to the Jewish people themselves. In terms of its membership, it was no longer a peculiarly or predominantly Jewish movement. But this is to get ahead of our story.
CHARACTERISTICS OF THE MOVEMENT
Intended for Israel
Like the other Jewish renewal movements with which it competed for the allegiance of the Jewish people, the Jesus movement saw itself as a way for Israel, as a historical alternative in the crisis facing the Jewish social world. One of the most certain facts of Jesus’ ministry points to the concern with Israel: the choosing of twelve followers as having a special calling. “Twelve” is the number of tribes of Israel, descended from the twelve sons of Jacob, the “father” of Israel. That Jesus chose twelve rather than nine or thirteen is thus no accident; Jesus saw them as the nucleus of the “new” or “true” Israel. Moreover, they themselves were given a mission, and their mission, like his, was to Israel: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”6
The most plausible explanation of the restriction to Israel is that Jesus’ primary concern was the revitalization of Israel. Such is also indicated by the movement’s course of action in Palestine even after his death, where it remained a Jewish revitalization movement until shortly after the destruction of the temple in A.D. 70.
A Charismatic Movement
The movement was grounded in the Spirit. Sometimes renewal movements come into existence simply through a strongly perceived difference between how things are and how they ought to be; but often the vivid spiritual experience and conviction of a particular individual is also a major factor. The Jesus movement clearly belongs in the latter category. It came into existence in part because of the crisis facing Judaism, but also because of the Spirit-filled experience of its founder.7
The powers of the Spirit were present in the movement, in Jesus as well as in some of his followers. The “twelve” were given powers to cast out demons and to heal.8 After Jesus’ death, the early Christian communities continued to be Spirit-filled, both in Palestine and beyond. The book of Acts reports numerous paranormal experiences, including the descent of the Spirit at Pentecost and healings and visions throughout. Paul’s letters indicate that the “gifts of the Spirit” were known in his churches as well.9 Though the movement’s charismatic character is often underemphasized within both contemporary scholarship and the mainstream church, it was one of its most remarkable features.
An Itinerant Movement
During Jesus’ lifetime, the core of the movement was centered around a person; wherever Jesus was, there the movement was. Thus it was not only a movement, but also literally a group on the move. Of the crowds who were attracted to Jesus, not everybody who responded to him followed him literally in the sense of joining the itinerant movement; most probably remained in their own communities as “local sympathizers.” Before his death, we do not know how many sympathizers there were, but they must have numbered at least several hundreds and perhaps a few thousands.
But some did join him “on the road.”10 Though it was not unheard of in first-century Palestine for a group of people to leave their homes and follow a charismatic leader, it was striking.11 The group’s composition was also exceptional; in addition to the nucleus of Jesus and the twelve, it included outcasts and women, thus violating (as we shall see) the central norms of the culture. Though some Pharisees and well-to-do people were attracted to it, it seems to have been largely a movement of common people, including many who were poor. For the core which traveled with him, there may have been special requirements which did not apply to those who remained in local communities.12 As an itinerant movement, it sometimes was offered local hospitality by sympathizers, but also no doubt often slept in the open air. As a group on the move, traveling through Galilee and finally to Jerusalem, it must have been a remarkable sight.
Joy in the Presence of Jesus
The movement was marked by joy, as several details in the gospels suggest. There was celebration in the meals which he shared with his followers and others. They were festive occasions, banquets as opposed to ordinary meals.13 He had a reputation as a “glutton” and a “drunkard,” and though this was an accusation by opponents, it is clear that he was not a world-denying or joy-denying ascetic.14 His followers did not fast during the ministry, which also drew an accusation: “Why do John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus’ response was significant: “Can the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them?”15 Fasting is for a time of mourning, feasting for a time of joy. The response compared being in the presence of Jesus to one of the most joyous occasions known in the ancient world: a wedding banquet.
The impression is clear: to be in the presence of Jesus was a joyous experience. This experience of joy in the presence of a remarkable religious figure has parallels in other times and places. Both within and beyond the Christian tradition, people speak of a “presence” or “zone” around a holy one which is virtually palpable, which can be “felt.” Simply to be in the presence of such a person mediates the reality of which he or she speaks.16 This joy is not to be confused with a feeling or mood of constant happiness, but goes beneath moods and feelings. To be in the presence of Jesus was experienced as being in the presence of the Spirit which flowed through him.
THE ETHOS OF THE MOVEMENT: COMPASSION
This joyous group moving through Palestine was not simply a circle of devotees gathered around a spiritual master and wonder-worker who taught a path of individual transformation. Rather, it was a movement whose life embodied a different vision of what Israel was to be, a different ethos for the people of God. The image of reality generated by Jesus’ charismatic experience created a new ethos for the life of the people of God, a central paradigm or ethic in accord with which they were to live.
Compassion as the Content of the Imitatio Dei
Like the social dynamic of his culture as a whole and of the renewal movements with which his competed, Jesus expressed this ethos as an imitatio dei, or “imitation of God.”17 But the content of Jesus’ imitatio dei differed: whereas first-century Judaism spoke primarily of the holiness of God, Jesus spoke primarily of the compassion of God.
We are accustomed to thinking of compassion as a feeling. And so it is in the Bible—a feeling localized in the abdomen, perhaps in the bowels or womb, and which is a “being moved by,” a “feeling with,” as even the Latin roots of the word suggest. It is being moved by another’s situation, at a level lower than the head or intellect.
Compassion is not only a human feeling, but also a quality of God in Scripture. The fact that the Old Testament speaks of God as compassionate indicates that the contrast between Jesus and the Judaism of his time must be understood as a matter of emphasis. First-century Judaism could also speak of the compassion of God, and Jesus never denied that God was holy. The issue was not whether God was compassionate or holy, but concerned which of these was to be the central paradigm for imaging God and for portraying the life of the faithful community.
Jesus repeatedly emphasized the compassion of God. The father of the prodigal son “had compassion,” the Samaritan was the one who “showed compassion,” the unmerciful servant did not act in accord with the compassion which had been shown him, the tax collector in the
Parable of the Tax Collector and the Pharisee appealed to the compassion of God.18 Aspects of Jesus’ healing activity point to the same quality: consistently the motivation was compassion. Moreover, Jesus sometimes healed on the sabbath, a practice that typically generated criticism.19 Within Judaism, the sabbath was “holy” and one of the most emphasized features of the quest for holiness; healing on it was permitted only when there was danger to life. But for Jesus, even when life-threatening conditions were not involved, healings—the work of the compassionate Spirit—took precedence over the demands of holiness.
The substitution of compassion for holiness is most strikingly clear in a passage which is formally an imitatio dei and whose structure echoes the climactic words of the holiness code: “Be compassionate, even as your Father is compassionate.”20 Just as God is compassionate or “wombish,”21 so people who are faithful to God, who are “children of God,” are to be compassionate.22 Just as God is moved by and “feels with” the “least of these,” so the Jesus movement was to participate in the pathos of God.23 Indeed, the pathos of God as compassion was to be the ethos of the Jesus movement and, ideally, of Israel.
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