This reflection is inspired by an insight from the New Testament scholar, Gerhard Lohfink. 

At the heart of Jesus’ preaching is the Reign of God. Jesus believed and understood that the Reign of God is happening here and now. The gospels report Jesus saying that this Reign of God is with us, among us, within us. But it’s up to us to hear and to respond to the invitation to step away from other kingdoms or empires or allegiances or incompatible involvements and to choose to embrace God’s Reign. Whether we are searching for something more or better, or we are just going about our daily activities, the Reign of God is here, waiting to be discovered and wholeheartedly welcomed.

God desires that we, all people, be well, whole, free, healed and happy. Jesus’ ministry embodied this. How totally opposite this is to many of the rulers, bosses, or leaders in our world! They want to use others to make their own lives better in some way, regardless of what this does to anyone else. Fear, greed, violence, lust govern them.

The human heart longs for fullness. Nothing less will ever be able to satisfy us. No matter how much we have, it can never bring us peace or joy or a sense of connection. God’s Reign promises the fulfillment we long for. But it comes at a steep price. We need to be ready to give ourselves completely to God’s project.

Why would we do this? Why would we invest our whole being in the Reign of God? Lohfink suggests that it’s because suddenly we find ourselves seized by an overwhelming sense of rightness, joy and belonging. Because our eyes are opened to a bigger picture of reality and our hearts are confirmed in our deepest desire, we can say, “Yes! This is what I truly want to be part of! This is who I am!” From that point on our lives have a clear focus and direction. 

And this life-engagement differs from person to person based on who we are – our history, our gifts, and our temperament. But all contribute to the transforming and transformative energy of the Reign of God. It’s not necessarily about doing big or extraordinary things. Everyone’s effort, within each person’s vocation, aids in bringing more of goodness into our world. Where God reigns, our hearts find home, and our lives make life better for all.

Thanks to those who proposed topics for reflection.  This is a response to one of the requests.

When the early followers of Jesus tried to make sense of the amazing and redefining experience that they had had, with and of Jesus, the only religious categories available to try to “fit” Jesus into were from their Jewish roots and traditions. But the uniqueness of the mystery of Jesus went far beyond their old beliefs and practices. He was new wine to their old wineskins.

These first disciples wanted to understand and to explain what they knew in their hearts, memories and shared stories. So, when the “Jesus communities” strove to comprehend the incomprehensible they fell back on images and titles from their shared history such as “Prophet”, “Messiah” (The Anointed One), “Son of Man”, “The One Who is to Come”, and “Son of God.” Here we’ll look at two of these that were attached to Jesus: Son of Man, and Son of God. 

In the Israelite culture, as in many contemporary ones, it would be impolite for someone to speak directly of themselves, using the pronoun “I” for example. So, frequently, when the gospels have Jesus referring to himself, he uses the phrase, “Son of Man.” “The Son of Man has”… instead of “I have.” Another common usage of the phrase, “Son of Man” is a replacement for a human being or human beings. “The Son of Man is”… instead of humanity is.

Where this can get a bit confusing is after the Christian community’s generational reflection on Jesus, who he was, and what he meant. They turned to a mysterious figure in the Book of Daniel. Daniel was a very late prophet in the history of people of Israel. His work is very influenced by the Greek world into which the ancestors of Abraham and Sarah were scattered.

Daniel, in Chapter Seven, depicts some of the prophet’s visions, including about “one like a son of man (human being)” coming into God’s presence and receiving an everlasting dominion. The Jewish followers of Jesus, concluded that Jesus had to be this promised heavenly ruler. He was a Son of David after all! They linked Jesus to this apocalyptic figure.

To the scholars, it’s also quite clear that Jesus didn’t, and wouldn’t, identify himself as the Son of God. It would have been blasphemous in his culture to claim a special or definitive sonship from God. This identification is most strongly made and held by the community responsible for the Gospel of John, two generations after Jesus’ time on earth. They had had much more time to explore the theological implications of the Jesus event.

The whole people of Israel understood themselves as the son of God. God birthed them as a people. God was their father. They also attributed this title to angels or other heavenly beings. Jesus certainly would have seen himself as part of the people of Israel – a son of God in that sense. 

In the Greco-Roman world, which is the historical context for Jesus and the early Christians, the title “son of god” was customarily applied to rulers, heroes, or other extraordinary individuals. The emperors, over time, considered themselves divine, “sons of the gods.” When the centurion (Mark 15:39) who commanded the troops responsible for executing Jesus saw how Jesus bore his suffering, without hatred, without any emotional breakdown – like a true hero, the officer declared, “Surely this was a son of god.” Of course, later on as awareness of the fullness of who Jesus is increased, the first followers re-translated this wondering cry of the pagan soldier as, “Surely this was the Son of God!”

Faith is a living reality. It either grows or it dies. The gospels are concrete witnesses to the growth of the faith of the primitive Church. Scripture scholars have identified various layers in the gospel texts that we have, and are able to link each layer to a stage in the development of these essential Christian documents. Each new layer reflects deeper faith and clearer understanding of the phenomenon of Jesus – Son of Man, Son of God. 

 

The story of the patriarch, Jacob, in the Book of Genesis (Genesis 25:19-49:33), like the whole of Genesis, is fascinating mix of mythology, folktales, campfire stories with a thin, at times nearly invisible, thread of deep faith. Jacob struggles with his twin brother, Esau, beginning in their mother Rachel’s womb. Esau is born first, but Jacob came out holding tightly to his brother’s heel. The sibling rivalry between these extremely different fraternal twins continues throughout the rest of the biblical narrative about them.

In one version (Genesis 25:29-34) Jacob is cooking a lentil stew and Esau, coming in from the field, is very hungry. Esau asks Jacob for something to eat, and Jacob – always the wheeler-dealer and trickster – says, “Sure. Just sell me your birthright.” Esau is more concerned with his empty stomach than with his birthright as firstborn, so he answers, “I’m starving to death! What good to me is a birthright?” The firstborn would succeed his father as head of the family and possess authority over all his brothers and sisters.

In another version (Genesis Chapter 27) their father, Isaac, is old and blind. Jacob, with the help of his mother, cheats his brother out of the blessing due to the first born. Now Jacob, according to their tribal traditions, is Esau’s lord. Esau becomes enraged and plans to kill Jacob after his father’s death. Rachel hears of this and sends Jacob away. But this isn’t the end of their contentious relationship.

Jacob survives and prospers because of the combination of his cunning and God’s blessing. Esau does fairly well himself, but can’t forget that his brother wronged him. Esau wants revenge. In Genesis Chapter 32, Jacob manages to avoid a direct confrontation with Esau and tries to appease his brother with large gifts of livestock. One day it was getting late. Night was coming on – when the primitive peoples understood that spirits or demons came out. Esau was in pursuit of Jacob. Jacob sends his wives, children and goods across the river Jabbok and returns to the other side to camp for the night.

During that night something, or someone began to wrestle with Jacob, trying to overcome him. Was it a demon? An angel? Was it God? Jacob grappled with this spiritual opponent until just before sunrise. The contest seemed to end in a tie. Jacob demanded a blessing. The opponent touched Jacob’s hip, dislocating it. When asked, the mysterious figure refused to reveal its name, but did concede the blessing of a new name to Jacob. In bestowing a name, the spiritual wrestler indicates superiority over Jacob. From now on Jacob will be known as Israel, which in Hebrew wordplay comes out as the one who has contested with both man (ish) and God (El).

We almost always would prefer that our spiritual growth and development would come without struggle. Yet we have things from our past and our previous choices and habits that inhibit or hinder us from living as fully as God desires. Sometimes we become content just to go with the flow of our life instead of questioning and discerning. God is both incredibly patient and gentle with us and, at the same time, tenacious.

God will not just let us remain as less than we might be. So, God challenges us to wrestle over whatever holds us back. If we put aside our fears and contend with God, God will prevail, and we will receive a new freedom and a new identity – blessed by God in a totally unexpected way.

I’m returning to a text in the gospels that I’ve commented on before. Sorry if this is a repeat. In John’s gospel, there are only seven of what we would call miracle stories. John calls them “signs”. The third of these signs (John 5:1-14) happens in Jerusalem during one of the great pilgrimage festivals celebrated for seven or eight days around the Temple. There was a double pool in the area called Bethesda, near the Temple, surrounded by five covered walkways. It had become a kind of open-air gathering place, or hospice, for those with illnesses or disabilities who had no one to care for them. There was a legend that said that every now and them an angel of God would come and stir up the waters in the pools. The first person who made it into the waters after this would be healed. 

Jesus is in the Holy City to celebrate the Feast and comes across a man who has been sick for thirty-eight years lying among a large crowd of equally needy people. Jesus recognizes that this man has been in this condition for a very long time and asks, “Do you want to be well?” The man has thought long and hard about his life, or lack thereof, and has thirty-eight years of excuses for why he can’t possibly be better than he is. Jesus simply says to him,”Get up, take your mat and walk.” Surprise! The man does just this.

It is the Sabbath. Some Jewish would-be authorities stop the one who has been healed and tell him, “It’s against the Law for you to carry your mat. That’s doing work on the Sabbath” The man replies that the one who made him well told him to pick up and carry his mat. They ask him, “Who told you to break the Sabbath Law?” He replies, “I don’t know.” Later Jesus finds him in the Temple area and tells the man, “You’re well now. Don’t keep sinning, or something worse may happen to you.”

I remember hearing this gospel passage when I was thirty-eight years old and crippled interiorly from early childhood. The question, do you want to be well, haunted me. Part of me strongly wanted, but part of me didn’t want to be well. I had all kinds of well-reasoned excuses for why I was the way I was. I was functional, but I was not well. I wasn’t ready to do whatever was necessary to become more fully myself.

We can have plenty of rehearsed responses to ourselves or to others who might ask us if we want to be free, fully alive and more loving- like this is just the way I am! Not so! We can be well. We don’t even need to know who Jesus is. But we do need to do what the Spirit urges us to do to be well.

We need to stand up, pick up whatever comforting or cushioning mats we have relied on to justify our un-well-ness and carry them away to the nearest trashcan. And if anyone challenges us with how wrong it is for us to be different than they thought we should be, ignore them. If we choose to fall back into our old bad habits, it can be more difficult to become well again. Just as Jesus informed the person who was cured, “If you really want to live your life in all its fullness, stop doubting, hiding behind the past, and feeling sorry for yourself. Live this newness!”