Jesus of Nazareth

by Gerhard Lohfink

  Participants in Jesus’ Story

  If we look through the gospels we see that the Twelve and the group of disciples surrounding them play a crucial role. For example, the relatively short Gospel of Mark speaks of Jesus’ “disciples” forty-four times. But we have already come across the fact that the Twelve and the other disciples are by no means all those who were on Jesus’ side and played a role in the Jesus movement. Mark gives us an important example in the story of the blind beggar Bartimaeus (10:46-52).

  This story takes place at the gate leading out of Jericho in the direction of Jerusalem. The blind man is sitting precisely where the Galilean pilgrims would set out on the last stage of their journey to the holy city. He hears Jesus passing by with a crowd of disciples and festival pilgrims, and he cries loudly, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” His cry for help is thus a messianic confession as well. Those around him are angry and order him to be quiet, but the blind man shouts still louder. Jesus notices him and heals him with the words, “Go; your faith has made you well.” So Jesus does not call the healed man to join his disciples. He does not tell him, “Come, follow me!” In fact, he releases him. But Bartimaeus, who can see again, is filled with so much gratitude that he follows Jesus. Mark says literally that he “followed him on the way” (10:52).

  In the context that can only mean he accompanies Jesus to Jerusalem. He does not follow Jesus as a disciple but apparently as someone who goes part of the way with him. And he does not go just anywhere but walks with Jesus on the last part of his way, the part that will end at the cross. So the healed man becomes a participant in Jesus’ story—and that is a great, great thing.

  Another example: Mark tells a story about the healing of a possessed man in the region of Gerasa (5:1-20). When Jesus has freed the man from his demons, the man begs him “that he might be with him” (Mark 5:18). That is exactly the expression Mark uses to describe a function of the Twelve, namely, “that they would be with Jesus” (cf. 3:14). So the healed man is, in fact, asking to be allowed to remain as close as possible to Jesus, as a disciple. “But he refused, and said to him, ‘Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.’ And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him; and everyone was amazed” (Mark 5:19-20).

  Many interpreters suppose that this conclusion to the narrative reflects the post-Easter mission in the cities of the Decapolis. The narrative, they say, presumes that the man was a Gentile, and he is now depicted as the first Christian missionary to the Gentile Decapolis. Therefore, following the logic of the narrative, he could not become a disciple in the direct sense, because the disciples of the pre-Easter Jesus were attentive only to Israel.

  We may leave open the question whether the man was really a Gentile. In any case, the narrative shows that not everyone was called to be part of the group of disciples. The gospels take account of the possibility that someone, even though he or she wanted to be a disciple, could be sent back to his or her family. But that does not in any way mean that such a person was unimportant to the Jesus movement. The healed man of Gerasa will become a proclaimer of Jesus precisely in his circle and even perhaps prepare for the later mission. He will become a participant in the story of Jesus.

  Apparently there were—like the healed Bartimaeus and the possessed man from the region of Gerasa—a good many other temporary companions around Jesus, those who “went with” or sympathized with him. They were not disciples in the strict sense. Nothing is said about their receiving a formal call to discipleship of Jesus. And yet they were important for the new thing beginning in Israel with Jesus.

  Resident Members of the Jesus Movement

  Bartimaeus accompanied Jesus from Jericho to Jerusalem. But there were many others who were never on the road with him and yet were indispensable for Jesus’ work: for example, the Lazarus household. According to the Gospel of John there was a very affectionate relationship between Jesus and the family of Lazarus: Jesus and Lazarus were friends (John 11:3). When Lazarus died, Jesus wept on the way to his tomb (John 11:35). The household of Lazarus, which was in Bethany, must have been a kind of support station for Jesus on the road to Jerusalem. But nowhere is it said that Lazarus belonged among Jesus’ disciples or followers.

  Obviously Jesus’ circle included families of friends like that of Lazarus and his sisters whose houses were always at Jesus’ disposal. There were many men and women in Israel who listened to Jesus and placed their hopes in him, supported him and sympathized with him. But they were not among the disciples in the strict sense. They did not follow Jesus in his unstable itinerant life but remained at home. We can therefore call them “resident” adherents of Jesus. Foremost among them were those who took Jesus and his disciples into their houses overnight. As we have already seen, Jesus often did not know during the day where he would be staying at night.

  This situation is illuminated strikingly by a little scene taking place on the road to Jerusalem. Jesus has sent out messengers to seek lodging for himself and his disciples in a Samaritan village, but Jesus is not received there because he is on the way to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51-56). That was by no means an innocuous thing. Josephus tells how, during the time of the Procurator Ventidius Cumanus (48–52 CE), Galilean pilgrims were traveling through Samaritan territory on their way to Jerusalem for a festival. They were attacked by the Samaritans, and one of the pilgrims was murdered.8

  The danger to which Jesus and his disciples were constantly exposed is also reflected in the mission discourse.9 As we have already seen, the disciples, sent out deliberately without means or weapons, are meant to be distinguished from the armed Zealots. For that very reason, after they have been on the road all day, they need hosts for the evening. They need people who will provide meals for them and give them shelter and protection for the night.

  But entry into strangers’ houses is not only about a roof over the head and security for their own lives; it is equally, in fact more, about gaining new people for Jesus’ message. The houses into which the disciples enter should become bases for the gathering of Israel. A network of houses into which eschatological peace has entered is to spread over the whole land. In this way a living basis comes into existence, one that will sustain the disciples’ work of proclamation. Jesus’ immediate followers, those who travel with him throughout Israel, and those among his adherents, friends, and sympathizers who remain tied to their own homes augment and sustain each other, offer mutual support and help, and so constitute an inseparable, organic whole.

  Concretely: Jesus’ resident adherents urgently need the new thing Jesus has begun if they are to change anything about their urgent physical and spiritual needs. The families that remain at home derive their life from the “new family” that is visible in the group of disciples. On the other hand, the disciples who are traveling through the land urgently need the support of established houses. Thus here there are constant radiant auras, reciprocal effects, overlappings. The disciples no longer live for themselves alone but for the people of God, and the resident supporters no longer live only for themselves and their children.

  Occasional Helpers

  The houses of those who receive Jesus and his disciples for the night thus become bases for the Jesus movement. But there was another type of relationship to the new thing in Israel. It was sporadic, momentary, less firm, and yet of great importance. Mark describes this kind of relationship in a short, meaningful word of promise directed to Jesus’ disciples. It may, at least in its outlines, go back to Jesus himself: “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward” (Mark 9:41).

  We have to imagine the situation this describes: the heat of a long day without shade, the thirst known only to those who have been in the lands of the south, and then the cup of water, offered because someone wants to help Jesus’ disciples. Perhaps the man or woman who gives the water will never encounter the disciple
s again and never again be able to help them. But it has happened this one time, it was necessary to their lives, and God will respond to it with eternal reward.

  Another example of “occasional help” that comes to mind is the deed of Joseph of Arimathea:

  When evening had come, and since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate wondered if he were already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him whether he had been dead for some time. When he learned from the centurion that he was dead, he granted the body to Joseph. Then Joseph bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock. (Mark 15:42-46)

  We can only understand this narrative if we know that crucifixion in antiquity was normally made more cruel by the fact that those crucified were denied burial. Concretely that meant that the corpses of those executed remained on the crosses until they had been torn apart and devoured by raptors and wild beasts. Only then were the remains put in the ground somewhere.

  We also need to know that for the people of the ancient world the refusal of burial was a much more terrible thing than it is for people today. Those who had been executed were thus shamed still further after the fact. They were denied the honor due to the dead. Their afterlife was destroyed forever. For Jewish sensibilities, the refusal of a grave was not only a horrible degradation of the dead but also a cultic desecration of the Land. Joseph of Arimathea’s deed has to be understood against that background.

  Who was this Joseph? He was a councilor, probably a member of the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem. He was highly regarded and influential. Otherwise he would not have been admitted to Pilate’s presence. But was he a disciple of Jesus? Matthew 27:57 and John 19:38 present him as such. Mark and Luke, in contrast, simply say that he “was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God” (Mark 15:43; Luke 23:51). If we consider that the Fourth Evangelist had a much broader concept of discipleship than Mark did, we will probably conclude that Joseph, while he was Jesus’ silent sympathizer, had never been a disciple in the proper sense of the word.10

  Joseph was precisely what I have called an “occasional helper.” Only a single situation is described in which he came to the aid of Jesus and his cause. But in that situation he acted not only correctly and without fear but also generously and with full commitment. God’s cause needs such people. Their single action is as important as constant discipleship.

  The Beneficiaries of the New Thing

  If we consider the social structure of today’s parishes it is obvious that they contain not only the so-called core congregation, the group of those who participate in congregational life regularly and with greater or lesser personal engagement. Every parish also contains a considerable number of those less engaged, outsiders, occasional visitors, guests, and beneficiaries. What is interesting is that there were already such people around Jesus. We have thus, sociologically speaking, arrived at the periphery of the “Jesus movement,” a marginal zone that is by no means unimportant. We can use the text of Mark’s gospel to make this clear as well.

  Mark 9:38-40 tells of an unusual occurrence, in our Bibles usually given the title “another exorcist” or “a stranger working miracles,” or something like that. The disciples see a man exorcising demons. John, the son of Zebedee, who with his brother James was dubbed a “Son of Thunder” by Jesus (Mark 3:17), tells Jesus disapprovingly about this. In and of itself such a thing would not bother the disciples. At that time, just as now, there were many kinds of diseases that verged on the psychosomatic. These very illnesses were often ascribed to demonic influences, and in Israel, as throughout the whole ancient world, there were healers and exorcists who attempted to master such illnesses (cf. chap. 9, “Jesus’ Miracles”).

  Jesus’ disciples encountered one such “healer.” They probably would not have taken any notice of him if they had not heard him driving out the demons of illness “in the name of Jesus.” Apparently the man was so impressed with Jesus’ deeds that he said to himself, “There is a power at work that I can make use of.” And so he invoked the spirits of illness “in the name of Jesus,” but without accepting the consequences that should have been obvious to him. He was not a disciple; he did not follow Jesus; he traveled around the country by himself and healed people. He used the name of Jesus, which he perceived as embodying power, but he worked for himself and his own ends.

  That is precisely what got the disciples so excited and annoyed. They tried to forbid the strange exorcist from using the name of Jesus, with the argument that he was not a follower of Jesus (Mark 9:38), but they had no success. So they came to Jesus and asked him to speak a word of power and intervene. And in this situation Jesus said something altogether astonishing: “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us” (Mark 9:39-40). This saying betrays the fact that Jesus and his disciples were surrounded by a cloud of rumors and calumnies, mean gossip and accusations. Jesus was apparently convinced that if someone remained apart, that is, did not belong with him and his followers but still drew some benefit from the new thing that was happening, that person would not join in such slanders—and so he or she would already be on the side of the new.

  So it is possible to belong to Jesus and his disciples by standing for the truth and not talking about things one knows nothing about. That is, so to speak, the most distant style of encounter with the cause of Jesus. The strange exorcist is outside. He even uses the salvation that has come with Jesus for his own purposes. He becomes a benefactor of the new thing. That is not so bad, Jesus says. That too is a possibility. It is even something good, if in this way someone is brought to say good things about the work of God and not slander it.

  The saying “whoever is not against us is for us” thus has a very particular “Sitz im Leben.” It is said about people who are outside the new thing Jesus has begun in Israel. It is true of them, but only of them. It is not true of those who have learned about Jesus, heard his words, and are familiar with his Gospel. Another saying of Jesus, spoken on another occasion, applies to them: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters” (Matt 12:30 // Luke 11:23).

  A Complex Pattern

  In summary, we may say that the gospels, especially Mark, are aware of a great variety of forms of participation in Jesus’ cause. There were the Twelve. There was the broader circle of disciples. There were those who participated in Jesus’ life. There were the localized, resident adherents who made their houses available. There were people who helped in particular situations, if only by offering a cup of water. Finally, there were the pure beneficiaries who profited from Jesus’ cause and for that very reason did not speak against it.

  These structural lines that run through the gospels are not accidental. They express something that is essential for the eschatological people of God, as Jesus sees it, and therefore an indispensable part of the church. In today’s church, because it is not a shapeless mass, we can find all these forms expressed. It is a complex pattern, as complex as the human body. The openness of the gospels, the openness of Jesus must warn us against regarding people as lacking in faith if they are unable to adopt a disciple’s way of life or if it is something completely alien to them. In any event, Jesus never did.

  On the other hand, of course, no one may reject the specific call that comes to her or him. It is not only that in such a case one fails to enter into the broad space God wants to open for that person. Rejecting the call also closes the space to others and places obstacles in the way of possibilities of growth for the people of God.

  Certainly it is also true that one may not usurp a calling. Not every disciple of Jesus could be one of the Twelve. They are in the first place a pure sign, created by Je
sus, to make visible God’s will for an eschatological renewal of the people of the twelve tribes. At the same time, the Twelve are sent to Israel and therefore are clothed with an eschatological office that will continue in the church. That is why they are rightly called “apostles” (those who are sent) even in the gospels.11

  It is also true that not everyone can be a disciple, since discipleship also presupposes a special call from Jesus. It does not depend on the will of the individual. It can be that someone wants to follow Jesus but is not made his disciple. Thus, not belonging to the circle of disciples as such is by no means an indication of lack of faith or a sign that someone is marginal. Nowhere does Jesus describe those of his adherents he has not called to follow him as undecided or half-hearted.12 Each person who accepts Jesus’ message about the reign of God has his or her own calling. Each can, in her own way and to his own capacity, contribute to the building up of the whole. No one is second class. The healed man of Gerasa is as important for Jesus’ cause as the disciples who travel with Jesus through the land.

  The Question of the More Radical Way of Life

  Is a disciple’s existence the more radical way of life? Here again we need to be careful.13 The ethos of discipleship is certainly a radical one. Is there anything harder and more ruthless than to be called by Jesus to discipleship, to answer him that first one must bury one’s father—perhaps recently dead, perhaps lying on his deathbed, perhaps old and ill—and be told, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60)? And yet the ethos of the Sermon on the Mount, which is not just for the disciples but for everyone in the eschatological people of God, is just as radical, because it demands that one abandon not only evil deeds but every hurtful word directed at a brother or sister in faith (Matt 5:22). It demands regarding someone else’s marriage (and of course one’s own) as so holy that one may not even look with desire at another’s spouse (Matt 5:27-28). It demands that married couples no longer divorce but remain faithful until death (Matt 5:31-32). It commands that there be no twisting and manipulation of language any more but only absolute clarity (Matt 5:37) and that one give to anyone who asks for anything (Matt 5:42).