For example, the story of Jesus miraculously feeding five thousand people in the wilderness (Mark 6:32–44; Matt. 14:13–21; Luke 9:10–17) alludes to Israel’s period in the wilderness following the exodus from Egypt under the leadership of Moses. There, where there was no food, the Israelites were nourished by God, who fed them with manna, a mysterious breadlike substance that fell from the sky each morning like dew. The story of Jesus feeding the five thousand makes the points that Jesus was one “like Moses” or even greater than Moses, that his ministry was an act of deliverance parallel in significance to the event that first created Israel, and that the people of God were once again being fed by “supernatural food” in the wilderness.
The story not only points backward to the exodus but also forward to the early church’s sacred meal, in which the bread of the Eucharist (or Lord’s Supper or Communion or Mass, as the meal is variously known) was understood as the “body of Christ.” The bread of the Eucharist is like the manna in the wilderness, the “supernatural food” whereby the people of God are nourished. Indeed, the author of John’s Gospel made the connection explicit. At the conclusion of John’s story of the feeding of the five thousand (6:1–14), the Jesus of John says, “I am the bread of life,” “the bread of God which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (6:35, 33). That is, the story ends by saying that Jesus (and not the loaves themselves) is the bread in the wilderness, the bread of life.
The modern scholarly approach has thus led to the realization that many of the miracle stories have a symbolic thrust. The word “symbolic” makes some Christians uncomfortable, for they tend to hear it as a watering down of the “literal” or “historical.” Moreover, there is a modern prejudice against the symbolic, as when we say about something, “It’s only symbolic,” implying that it need therefore not be taken seriously. But to say that a story has symbolic elements is to say that the language or content points beyond itself to a web of meanings or associations, and those associations enrich rather than impoverish the story.
Yet it is also true that at this level of interpretation, the historical question is not important. That is, one can write a powerful exposition of the feeding of the five thousand without even addressing the question of its historical actuality; for Christians, Jesus is the bread of life who nourishes them again and again with his body and blood, and this is true independently of whatever happened or did not happen on a particular day during his ministry. Though the recognition that a narrative is symbolic need not involve a denial that it is also historical, the historical question is not central. Indeed, within much of modern scholarship, it is often left unaddressed or declared to be unimportant.
The modern scholarly approach is based on a solid insight: the miracle stories are part of the church’s story of Jesus, and the meaning of the stories is greatly enhanced by paying attention to the meanings seen by the early church and the allusions they make. Yet the “mighty deeds” of Jesus are also part of the history of Jesus, and not simply part of the church’s story about Jesus. That is, the tradition that Jesus was a “wonder-worker” is historically very firmly attested. Thus, as we move to the miracle stories themselves, we will find it most helpful to divide our treatment into two categories: the miracles as part of the history of Jesus, those we can say with reasonable historical probability “really happened,” and as part of the story of Jesus, those about which we must say, “Perhaps it happened, but the meaning of the story seems to lie elsewhere.”
The Miracles as Part of the History of Jesus
Mediators between the two worlds of the primordial tradition often become “people of power,” or miracle workers, especially healers. To be sure, not all do. In the history of Israel and other cultures, some were primarily mediators of the divine will as prophets and lawgivers or of “supernatural” knowledge as diviners or clairvoyants. Others were charismatic military leaders, “spirit warriors.” But some became channels through which healing power flowed from the world of Spirit into the visible world. Such figures of power (“men of deeds,” as they were called in Judaism) were known in first-century Palestine, both in its ancient tradition (notably Elijah) and in charismatics contemporary with Jesus such as Hanina ben Dosa and Honi the Circle-Drawer.
Jesus as Healer and Exorcist
Jesus was one of these “men of deeds.” Indeed, to his contemporaries, it was the most remarkable thing about him. During his lifetime he was known primarily as a healer and exorcist. People flocked to him, drawn by his wonder-working reputation, as the Gospels report again and again: “They brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door” (Mark 1:32–33); “His fame spread . . . and great crowds followed him” (Matt. 4:24–25); “People came to him from every quarter” (Mark 1:45).
His healings attracted attention in other quarters as well. In prison before his execution by King Herod Antipas, John the Baptist heard of Jesus’s mighty deeds and sent messengers to inquire if Jesus might be Elijah returned, one of the great charismatic healers of Israel’s history (Matt. 11:3; Luke 7:19).2 After John’s death, Herod himself heard of Jesus’s reputation as a miracle worker and wondered if Jesus’s powers might be the powers of John the Baptist “raised from the dead” (Mark 6:14–15). Not only do the Gospel writers report the fame that Jesus’s mighty deeds caused, but they devote substantial portions of their narratives to accounts of such deeds.3
Despite the difficulty that miracles pose for the modern mind, on historical grounds it is virtually indisputable that Jesus was a healer and exorcist. The reasons for this judgment are threefold. First, there is the widespread attestation in our earliest sources. Second, healings and exorcisms were relatively common in the world around Jesus, both within Judaism and in the Hellenistic world. Third, even his opponents did not challenge the claim that powers of healing flowed through him; rather, as we shall see, they claimed that his powers came from the lord of the evil spirits. By admiring followers and skeptical foes alike, he was seen as a holy man with healing powers.
True, the accounts in their present form are the product of the Gospel writers. Symbolic and stylistic elements are often present; many details are obviously omitted (the stories are very compact); most often, we cannot be certain that we are dealing with eyewitness reports of particular healings, even when personal names are mentioned. But the stories reflect the kinds of situations Jesus encountered and the kinds of deeds he did, even if we cannot be sure whether a particular story is a stylized “typical” picture or based fairly closely on eyewitness reports of a specific event. That is, the verdict that we are dealing with generally historical material does not imply the historical accuracy of all details.
Exorcisms
As an exorcist, Jesus drove evil spirits out of many possessed people. In addition to summaries that mention multiple exorcisms (e.g., “And those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured,” Luke 6:18) and the reference to Mary Magdalene “from whom seven demons had gone out” (8:2), the synoptic Gospels contain several extended accounts of particular exorcisms and a number of sayings referring to the practice. The Gospels consistently distinguish between exorcisms and healings; not all healings were exorcisms, and not all maladies were caused by evil spirits. The Gospels also speak of exorcists other than Jesus: Pharisaic exorcists, an unnamed exorcist who expelled demons in Jesus’s name even though he was not a follower of Jesus, and Jesus’s own disciples.4 Obviously well attested, exorcisms were not uncommon, even though they were not everyday occurrences.
More so than extraordinary cures, exorcism is especially alien to us in the modern world. In part, this is because we do not normally see the phenomenon (though are there cases of “possession” we call by another name?). Even more, it is because the notion of “possession” by a spirit from another level of reality does not fit into our worldview. Rather, possession and exorcism presuppose the reality of a world of spirits that can interact with the visible world; that is, they
presuppose the truth of the “primordial tradition.”
Cross-cultural studies of the phenomenon indicate a number of typical traits. “Possession” occurs when a person falls under the control of an evil spirit or spirits. Such people are inhabited by a presence that they (and others) experience as “other than themselves.” In addition to having two or more “personalities,” they exhibit bizarre behavior and are often destructive or self-destructive. Convulsions, sweating, and seizures are common. Unusual strength and uncanny knowledge are sometimes also reported.5 Exorcism is the expulsion of the evil spirit, driving it out of the person and ending its “ownership.” This can be done only with the aid of a superior spirit in order to overpower the evil spirit. Often elaborate rituals are used, involving incantations and “power objects.”6
The synoptic Gospels describe two cases of possession in considerable detail. Inhabited by a legion of demons with supernatural strength, the “Gerasene demoniac” lived howling in a graveyard on the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee:
A man . . . with an unclean spirit . . . lived among the tombs; and no one could restrain him any more, even with a chain; for he had often been restrained with shackles and chains, but the chains he wrenched apart, and the shackles he broke in pieces; and no one had the strength to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always howling, and bruising himself with stones. . . . Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied “My name is Legion; for we are many.” (Mark 5:2–5, 9)
According to Mark’s account, the demon also had nonordinary knowledge. It recognized Jesus’s “status,” even though no human being in Mark’s Gospel had yet done so: “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?” (5:7).7
The self-destructive quality of the Gerasene demoniac is also found in Mark’s picture of a demon-possessed boy (9:17–27). Whenever the evil spirit seized him, it dashed him to the ground, causing him to foam at the mouth, grind his teeth, and become rigid; it “often cast him into the fire and into the water, to destroy him.”8
Typically, Jesus exorcised evil spirits by verbal command alone, as in Mark’s report of an exorcism in the synagogue at Capernaum in Galilee (1:23–27).9 In this case, nothing is said about the condition of the possessed person beyond the presence of more than one “personality” and the recognition by the unclean spirit of the identity of Jesus, as if through nonordinary knowledge. The exorcism itself is accompanied by a convulsion and loud cries. Striking, however, is the reaction of the crowd. Amazed, the people exclaim, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits.” Their exclamation suggests what they (or the Gospel writer) saw as the source of Jesus’s power to cast out demons: “with authority he commands even the unclean spirits,” that is, from the mouth of the Gevurah (Spirit) he casts out demons.10
How modern medical doctors or psychiatrists might diagnose the condition of “possession” or describe the process of exorcism, were they to witness either, is difficult to say. Within the framework of the modern worldview, we are inclined to see “possession” as a primitive prescientific diagnosis of a condition that must have another explanation. Most likely, we would see it as a psychopathological condition that includes among its symptoms the delusion of believing one’s self to be possessed. Perhaps a psychopathological diagnosis and explanation are possible.11 Social conditions also seem to be a factor; there are some data from anthropology and social psychology that suggest that conditions of political oppression, social deprivation, and rapid social change (all of which characterized first-century Palestine) are correlated with increased frequency of possession.12
But whatever the modern explanation might be and however much psychological or social factors might be involved, it must be stressed that Jesus and his contemporaries (along with people in most cultures) thought that people could be possessed or inhabited by a spirit or spirits from another plane. Their worldview took for granted the actual existence of such spirits.13 Perhaps the shared convictions were in part responsible for the phenomenon. In any case, they did not simply think of these as cases of possession and exorcism; rather, all of the participants—possessed, exorcist, onlookers—experienced the event as an exorcism of a spiritual force that had taken possession of the person.
Jesus’s exorcisms not only attracted crowds, but also controversy. Some of his opponents charged that he performed them with the aid of evil powers: “And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, ‘He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons’” (Mark 3:22).14 The accusation was “witchcraft” or “sorcery.”15 A Jewish source from a few centuries later, referring to Jesus by his name in Aramaic, repeated the charge and connected it to his death: “Yeshu of Nazareth” was executed “because he practiced sorcery and led Israel astray.”16 The charge of sorcery is a pejorative characterization of his powers and attributes them (like the Beelzebul accusation) to the powers of darkness. From his opponents’ point of view, he was an unorthodox holy man, a “magician,”17 but his powers were not denied.
Jesus responded to the accusation by affirming that the power flowing through him was the Spirit of God: “If it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you” (Matt. 12:28; Luke 11:20). Indeed, Jesus saw his exorcisms as a sign that the “strong man” whom he had watched fall from heaven (Luke 10:18) had been “bound” and overcome by the Spirit of God: “But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house may be plundered” (Mark 3:27). Thus Jesus’s exorcisms, as well as his opponents’ accusations, link him unmistakably to the thought world and experiential world of the Spirit-filled charismatic. He was one who experienced the Spirit of God flowing through him with power.
Healings
Jesus was also known as a healer. In fact, according to the Gospels, his healings outnumbered his exorcisms. They are often referred to in summary statements18 as well as in words attributed to Jesus himself. To messengers sent to him by John the Baptist, he said, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them” (Matt. 11:4–5; Luke 7:22).19
In addition to these summaries, the synoptic Gospels contain thirteen narratives of healings of particular conditions: fever (Mark 1:29–31), leprosy (Mark 1:40–45; Luke 17:11–19), paralysis (Mark 2:1–12), withered hand (Mark 3:1–6), bent back (Luke 13:10–17), hemorrhage (Mark 5:24–34), deafness and dumbness (Mark 7:37), blindness (Mark 8:22–26, 10:46–52), dropsy (Luke 14:1–6), severed ear (Luke 22:51), and a sickness near death or paralysis (Luke 7:1–10; Matt. 8:5–13). These thirteen should not be thought of as the sum total of Jesus’s healings; rather, they are narrated as “typical” or to make some point or other. Given the nature of the Gospel narratives, we shall not treat the question of the precise event behind each account, but will simply note the impression the stories create. Even though we are not dealing with “newspaper account” material, we are at the very least in touch with how Jesus’s very early followers, still in contact with the living oral tradition, “saw” him.
The stories create a vivid impression of a charismatic healer at work. Sometimes Jesus healed by word. He said to the man with the withered hand, “Stretch out your hand,” and the hand was restored (Mark 3:5). Most often touching was also involved. When a leper came to him, Jesus was “moved with pity” and touched him, and immediately the leprosy left him (1:40–42). Sometimes he used physical means in addition to touching, as in the case of a deaf man. Jesus “put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is, ‘Be opened.’ And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly” (7:32–35)20 Of special interest here is the Aramaic word ephphatha, “Be opened.” In context, it clearly refers
to the opening of the man’s ears, but may also have the connotation of the heavens opening up: “Looking up to heaven, he said, ‘Be opened.’” Through the opening in heaven, healing power flowed.
Like the contemporary Galilean holy man Hanina ben Dosa, Jesus healed at a distance. A Roman centurion entreated Jesus to heal his servant who was lying paralyzed in the centurion’s home some distance away. Seeing the centurion’s faith, Jesus said, “Go; let it be done for you according to your faith.” The text concludes: “And the servant [at home] was healed in that hour” (Matt. 8:13).
To attempt to explain how these happened is beyond our purpose, and probably impossible. There is a tendency to see these as “faith healings,” perhaps because doing so makes possible a psychosomatic explanation that stretches but does not break the limits of the modern worldview. But, though faith is involved in some of the stories, clearly in other cases the faith of the healed person was not involved at all.
Rather, within the thought world of the accounts themselves, Jesus’s healings were the result of “power.” Indeed, the favorite word for the mighty deeds of Jesus in the synoptic Gospels is, in Greek, dunamis, which translates as “power.” It is most frequently used in the plural—the mighty deeds of Jesus were “powers.” It is sometimes used in the singular to refer to one of the central qualities of God: “the power of God” or “the power of the Most High.” It can even be used as a name for God: “And you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power” (Mark 14:62). That is, the deeds of Jesus were understood by the Gospel writers and Jesus himself as powers from the Power.
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