It's all about Jesus
Commentary
Object:
The story of God's love in the Bible focuses on Jesus. But Jesus did not appear in a vacuum. Throughout the Old Testament already God made it clear that God would send a specially commissioned person to bring healing and forgiveness to the citizens of earth. As priests, kings, and prophets were anointed with oil at the start of their careers, so this person, too, would be anointed. In fact, this special deliver would be called "the anointed," a term that comes across in Hebrew as "Messiah" and in Greek as "Christ."
Walter Wangerin Jr., powerfully summarized the meaning of Jesus as Messiah in his allegory of the "Ragman." Wangerin pictures himself in a city on a Friday morning. A handsome young man comes to town, dragging behind him a cart made of wood. The cart is piled high with new, clean clothes, bright and shiny and freshly pressed.
Wandering through the streets the trader marches, crying out his strange deal: "Rags! New rags for old! Give me your old rags, your tired rags, your torn and soiled rags!"
He sees a woman on the back porch of a house. She is old and tired and weary of living. She has a dirty handkerchief pressed to her nose, and she is crying a thousand tears, sobbing over the pains of her life.
The Ragman takes a clean linen handkerchief from his wagon and brings it to the woman. He lays it across her arm. She blinks at him, wondering what he is up to. Gently the young man opens her fingers and releases the old, dirty, soaking handkerchief from her knotted fist.
Then comes the wonder. The Ragman touches the old rag to his own eyes and begins to weep her tears. Meanwhile, behind him on her porch stands the old woman, tears gone, eyes full of peace.
It happens again. "New rags for old!" he cries, and he comes to a young girl wearing a bloody bandage on her head. He takes the caked and soiled wrap away and gives her a new bonnet from his cart. Then he wraps the old rags around his head. As he does this, the girl's cuts disappear and her skin turns rosy. She dances away with laughter and returns to her friends to play. The Ragman begins to moan and from her rags on his head the blood spills down.
He next meets a man. "Do you have a job?" the Ragman asks. With a sneer the man replies, "Are you kidding?" and holds up his shirtsleeve. There is no arm in it. He cannot work. He is disabled.
The Ragman says, "Give me your shirt. I'll give you mine."
The man's shirt hangs limp as he takes it off, but the Ragman's shirt hangs firm and full because one of the Ragman's arms is still in the sleeve. It goes with the shirt. When the man puts it on, he has a new arm. The Ragman walks away with one sleeve dangling.
It happens over and over again. The Ragman takes the clothes from the tired, the hurting, the lost, and the lonely. He gathers them to his own body and takes the pains into his own heart. Then he gives new clothes to new lives with new purpose and new joy.
Finally, around midday, the Ragman finds himself at the center of the city where nothing remains but a stinking garbage heap. It is the accumulated refuse of a society lost to anxiety and torture. On Friday afternoon the Ragman climbs the hill, stumbling as he drags his cart behind him. He is tired and sore and pained and bleeding. He falls on the wooden beams of the cart, alone and dying from the disease and disaster he has garnered from others.
Wangerin wonders at the sight. In exhaustion and uncertainty he falls asleep. He lies dreaming nightmares through all of Saturday until he is shaken from his fitful slumbers early on Sunday morning. The ground quakes. Wangerin looks up. In surprise he sees the Ragman stand up. He is alive! The sores are gone, though the scars remain. But the Ragman's clothes are new and clean. Death has been swallowed up and transformed by life!
Still worn and troubled in his spirit, Wangerin cries up to the Ragman, "Dress me, Ragman! Give me your clothes to wear! Make me new!"
We know the picture. It is Jesus coming into our world to share our sufferings and to bear our shame and guilt. Jesus stands in our place, dying our death so that we might gain a new and renewing relationship with God.
Sure, it is hard to explain. But it is also something, according to the Bible, that we cannot live without.
Isaiah 52:13--53:12
The four "Servant Songs" in Isaiah were first identified in a commentary on the prophecy by Bernhard Duhm in 1892:
Isaiah 42:1-9 -- Yahweh identifies and commissions his special envoy who will bring justice among the nations through quiet ministry to the marginalized and the disenfranchised. His work will be successful because the great Creator has chosen this one to be the agent of divine renewal.
Isaiah 49:1-13 -- The Suffering Servant testifies of his unique call and commissioning. His voice and message are then confirmed by successive oracles in which Yahweh speaks, announcing that his servant was ordained for this ministry from before his birth, and that both kings and outcasts will experience divine favor through the work of this one. The outcome will be a restoration of joy to the entire world, which has too long suffered under the consequences of evil.
Isaiah 50:4-9 -- Now the voice of the chosen one is heard even more clearly. The entire poem is in the first person, and is a reflection on both divine anointing for the tasks at hand and also the early backlash of those who do not want Yahweh to disturb their evil machinations. The confrontation thickens between good and evil, and the Suffering Servant stands at its vortex.
Isaiah 52:13--53:12 -- The last and longest of the poems personifies the Suffering Servant most clearly. Here the focus is less on the grand justice that will result from his ministry, and more on the agony that he will endure to accomplish his assigned task. What began as a shout of confidence and joy in the first song has now turned dark and almost defeatist here. Only the final lines of this song serve to remind us that Yahweh is still in control, and that these things do matter for eternal purposes.
Jews believe that it is the Jewish people themselves who function in the role as the arbiter of God's justice among the nations, a task that ultimately crushes its vocalizer in the evil machines of human depravity. This is why the Jews continue to be the prophetic voice of God to the nations, and why they also mark their history with the awful pogroms and bloody reprisals that have been unleashed against them.
Christians, on the other hand, quickly found in these passages a kind of messianic blueprint describing the coming, anointing, teaching, ministry, suffering, and death of Jesus. There is no question but that the hints at divine initiative and personal character and contextual backlash all fit hand-in-glove with the events of Jesus' career.
Hebrews 10:16-25
Steeped as he is in Jewish culture and covenantal outlook, the author reduces all of life to the symbolic representations of the tabernacle. When God took up residence on earth, the furnishings of the tabernacle were designed to provide means by which sinful human beings could approach a holy deity. At the courtyard, on the altar of burnt offering, a sacrificial transaction took place that atoned for inner sin and alienation. The bronze sea, although used only by the priests and Levites, symbolized the external cleansing necessary when making contact with Yahweh. In the holy place were the visible representations of fellowship -- a table always prepared for mealtime hospitality, a lamp giving light, and the altar of incense that reduced the stench of animal sacrifices outside and created a pleasant atmosphere for relaxed conversation. Finally, intimacy with God could be had by passing through the curtain and stepping into the throne room itself, the most holy place. Because this was too large a leap for most sinfully compromised humans to make, access was granted and taken only once a year in the person and representative acts of the high priest.
What Jesus has done, according to the author, is short-circuited the feeble and repetitious efforts at renewing human relations with God by fulfilling all of these practices in a grand once-for-all activity: the cross becomes the altar of burnt offering; baptism is the cleansing washing that replaces the waters of the bronze sea; the Lord's Supper is the on-going experience of the hospitality table; the Holy Spirit is the illuminating presence previously offered by the lamp; prayers (both ours and Jesus') form the new Incense that sweetens the atmosphere when we seek God; and the most holy place, with its mercy seat atop the Ark of the Covenant, is nothing less than God's grand throne room in heaven itself. Indeed, if the microcosm worldview of the tabernacle is expanded and inverted, we can sketch out the meaning of Jesus and the true religion of our lives as a journey from outside the camp into the holy presence of God.
It is obvious from the writer's argument that he and those he is addressing are deeply steeped in the worldview, culture, practices, and religious rites of Judaism. Not only so, but theirs is a conservative, orthodox, historical understanding of the religion of Israel. The Old Testament is the revelation of God, and Israel holds a special place in transmitting the divine outlook and purposes with the human race. Israel's identity was shaped around its religious ceremonies, which themselves emanated from the tabernacle, its furnishings, and its symbolism.
Although the author of Hebrews shares these perspectives with his audience, there is one significant difference between them: he fully believes Jesus has ushered in a culminating change that transcends and makes obsolete these previous expressions of religious identity, while they, due to cultural pressures around them, are not so sure of that. This document is written to convince a community on the verge of slipping away from Jesus back into a pre-Jesus Jewish ritualistic context, that such a move would be unwise and inappropriate.
John 18:1--19:42
The Passion narrative is central to the gospels, consuming about a third of each. While there are great similarities among the four tellings of Jesus' trial and death, unique elements and emphases peak through each time.
Here, in John's gospel, note these particularities: first, the testimony is clearly that of an eyewitness. The details of Jesus' movements are recounted from the point of view of someone who is on the scene. Not only that, but the writer knows names (e.g. "Malchus"), movements (Jesus is brought first to Annas), relationships (working relationship with the high priest), conversations (the bonfire recognition of Pete, precipitating his denials), and so on.
Second, the arrest and trial of Jesus all offer opportunities for Jesus to make known his divinity and his messianic activities. No one seems to believe him, or at least none are ready to act affirmatively on this insight, but Jesus' identity never remains hidden through the whole public accusation and response.
Third, Peter's denials of Jesus are more significant than the "beloved disciple's" connections. In other words, the writer's relationships with the authorities only allows access to these final proceedings, but Peter's actions move along the central message of the gospel (see 20:30-31 and all of John 21). While the "beloved disciple's" testimony affirms the truth and accuracy of the report, Peter stands in for all of us who must make life choices about Jesus' identity and the challenge to respond in faith to the witness that is offered.
Fourth, the manner in which John marks the chronology of Jesus' last week in Jerusalem fulfills the early identification given to Jesus in the gospel: "The lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!" (John 1:29). Following Mark's lead, the Synoptic Gospels clearly identify the final meal that Jesus shared with his disciples as a Passover celebration. Strangely, for all the other symbolism in the fourth gospel, John clearly steers away from that connection in chapter 13. Why?
The answer appears to have several parts to it. First, John deliberately times the events of Jesus' final week so that Jesus is tried and sentenced to death on Friday morning (at the same time as the unblemished Passover lambs were being selected) and crucified during the precise hours when the Passover lambs were being slaughtered in the temple courtyard. In this way John accomplishes a purpose that he indicated at the beginning of his gospel, to portray Jesus as the "Lamb of God" (1:36). For this reason it was important to John not to identify the Last Supper as the Passover, since Jesus must die with the lambs who were being slaughtered prior to that meal.
Second, this does not immediately mean that either John or the Synoptics are telling the story wrongly. Instead, there were actually several different calendars functioning among the Jews of the day, marking the celebration of the Passover with slight variations. These came into being due either to the chronological ordering of each new day (Roman: sunrise to sunrise, or Jewish: sundown to sundown), or the perceived occasion of the new moon that began that month (adjusted differently by Babylonian and Palestinian rabbis).
Thus Jesus and his disciples probably ate a Passover meal together, as the Synoptics identify it, but one that was tied to a different calendar than that used by the bulk of the Jerusalem population. In this way John could leverage the different schedule to communicate a particular emphasis in his portrayal of Jesus' symbolic identity.
Application
The midnight hours of history have been dampened by the tears of those whose heartache grows deeper because of rejection. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me," we say with bold face in the morning sun. But loneliness returns in the darkness and every nasty name or spurious glance becomes a taunting reminder that we're not wanted. Sometimes even God seems a silent and foreboding foe, an enemy warrior.
Among the many sobs of alienation in this world there is one cry of alienation so bitter that it alone can bring peace to others who felt rejection. For, in the terrible beauty of this day, a man is rejected by society, condemned by the governing authorities, and displayed in death on a hideous cross, at odds, it seems, even with God above.
His lips cry, "My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?" The answer is the mystery of salvation: "So that we might never again be forsaken by him."
An Alternative Application
Hebrews 10:16-25. Who were the first recipients of this document? Where were they living? What was their background? When were they caught up in these things?
There are a number of clues that come through the author's words:
They are second generation Christians (2:1; 2:3; 13:7)
Who had come through tough times (10:32):
-Many were publicly ridiculed (10:33)
-A number of their leaders apparently were killed (13:7)
-At least some of them had their property confiscated (10:34)
-Although most had not been martyred, many had spent time in prison (10:34; 13:3)
They knew the Hebrew scriptures well
They had practiced Hebrew religious ceremonies in the past
But they were likely Gentile in ethnic background, having come into Judaism in the first place by way of conversion (10:32)
When all of these things are considered together, subtle demographic lines emerge. Because they are well-educated, communicate in Greek, and appear to have come to Judaism from a Gentile background, it is likely that these people were proselytes to Judaism who had been seeking moral grounding in an increasingly debauched and debasing Roman society. There were many instances in the first centuries BC and AD where non-Jews became enamored of the rigorous lifestyle found in Jewish communities scattered throughout the major Roman cities. After going through years of non-participating observation and instruction, they were then officially declared to be Jews through ritual entrance ceremonies.
As with converts to any cause or religion, these are often the most zealous for their newly adopted perspectives and philosophies. So it must have been quite exciting and shocking when news about Jesus circulated, announcing the arrival of the messiah and the coming of God's final act of revelation and transformation. No doubt many of these Gentile proselytes to Judaism were quick to take the next step in exploring the messianic fulfillments of the religion they had recently adopted.
Of course, it did not take long before tensions within the Jewish community, and later persecutions from without, took the glow off these exuberant times. Now, in the face of renewed threats against Christians by the Roman government, a complicating twist had been added. All Christians, whether Gentile or Jewish in background, were specifically identified as participants in an illegal religious cult, while Jews who did not believe in Jesus retained official protections as part of an already sanctioned religion.
This heightened the confusion of identity issues for proselyte Jews. If they continued to profess Jesus as messiah, they would be separated from the rest of the Jewish community and persecuted by the Roman government, perhaps losing their property, their families, and even their lives in the process. If, however, they gave up the Jesus factor in their messianic Judaism, they would be able to return to the safety and camaraderie of the general Jewish community, with all of its religious rigor and righteousness, and, at the same time, escape threats from the Roman officials. The latter option was a very tempting choice to make. This seems, in fact, to be the background of one of the last and most specific exhortations of Hebrews (12:1-4, 12).
The writer of Hebrews points to others of both Old Testament times and recent difficult circumstances who chose to keep in step with the messianic progression of God's activities, culminating in the coming of Jesus, the messiah. If these followers of the right way could keep their faith, even when it cost them everything, you can do it too! And look! They are the ones who are cheering you on! They believe you can remain faithful. In fact, Jesus himself stands at the end of your journey and beckons you on to the finish line! So don't give up now, just when you are achieving a newer depth in your relationship with God! You can continue on! You can make it!
If this is indeed the context that nurtured Hebrews into being, it is possible to reflect more intelligently on the location of the community in question and the times during which the document was authored. Although the writer of Hebrews talks at length about the sacrifices offered regularly by the priests, there is no indication that either he or his readers were watching these things take place day in and out. The ritual systems of the tabernacle are used like intellectual building blocks of a worldview system. They are deeply engrained in the culture, but not necessarily constantly experienced by those familiar with them, anymore than is true for Christians who talk easily about the crucifixion of Jesus.
Because the scripture passages quoted and exegeted by the author are consistently from the Septuagint, it appears reasonable that the readers were not living in Palestine. The references to Timothy, prison, and people from Italy in Hebrews 13:23-24 make a Roman connection likely, but do not help in determining whether the author or the audience was located there. What is beneficial, however, is the series of hints about successive waves of persecution. In the remembered past, according to the author, an official government pogrom cost many of them their property and material possessions, landed some in jail, and brought about the death of a few of their leaders. Now they were facing a greater threat, and distinctions were being made between Jews who identified with Jesus as messiah and those who did not.
The three periods of significant government persecution against the Christian church during the first century were under emperors Claudius (48-49 AD), Nero (64-68 AD), and Domitian (81-96 AD). If this document is written after one attack and shortly before another is reaching its climax, Hebrews was probably penned in either the early 60s or the early 80s. The more limited persecutions under Claudius seem better suited for the past troubles faced by this group. Also, the fact that the destruction of the temple is nowhere mentioned in this document is interesting. Since so much of the theological argument is based upon the idea that the ritual ceremonies are no longer needed, the destruction of the temple would appear to have been a perfect illustration of the author's understanding of these changing times and of God's own intent to make null and void the ceremonies in that center of Jewish religious practice. In fact, the very choice made by the writer to talk only about the tabernacle and not the temple may be an indication that the temple was still standing. After all, the author did not want to cast aspersions against the cultic rituals that were taking place daily in Jerusalem, but only to go back to their roots and meaning. So he used the tabernacle as his point of reference, knowing that it would serve his theological analogies better than the still-visible rites and customs experienced in the Jerusalem temple by many of them on their pilgrimages. Together these clues seem to push toward an original date of writing in the early 60s, possibly from Ephesus where Timothy was pastor. Since Apollos had gone there as well, he would be a prime candidate for authorship, but there is simply not enough evidence to make a wise decision about that.
Hebrews brings a word of wisdom to the New Testament community. It compares the two great redemptive interruptions of God into human history and shows how these were paired aspects of God's one primary desire to reassert the divine presence and care. Setting them over against each other makes no sense; but neither does remaining handcuffed to the former when its greater replacement has come. True religion is not about how humans can become better people through the ritual acts of even the best of systems; rather, it is about how we can follow Jesus with confidence, especially during times of persecution, since he is the latest and greatest expression of the kindness and majesty of God.
Walter Wangerin Jr., powerfully summarized the meaning of Jesus as Messiah in his allegory of the "Ragman." Wangerin pictures himself in a city on a Friday morning. A handsome young man comes to town, dragging behind him a cart made of wood. The cart is piled high with new, clean clothes, bright and shiny and freshly pressed.
Wandering through the streets the trader marches, crying out his strange deal: "Rags! New rags for old! Give me your old rags, your tired rags, your torn and soiled rags!"
He sees a woman on the back porch of a house. She is old and tired and weary of living. She has a dirty handkerchief pressed to her nose, and she is crying a thousand tears, sobbing over the pains of her life.
The Ragman takes a clean linen handkerchief from his wagon and brings it to the woman. He lays it across her arm. She blinks at him, wondering what he is up to. Gently the young man opens her fingers and releases the old, dirty, soaking handkerchief from her knotted fist.
Then comes the wonder. The Ragman touches the old rag to his own eyes and begins to weep her tears. Meanwhile, behind him on her porch stands the old woman, tears gone, eyes full of peace.
It happens again. "New rags for old!" he cries, and he comes to a young girl wearing a bloody bandage on her head. He takes the caked and soiled wrap away and gives her a new bonnet from his cart. Then he wraps the old rags around his head. As he does this, the girl's cuts disappear and her skin turns rosy. She dances away with laughter and returns to her friends to play. The Ragman begins to moan and from her rags on his head the blood spills down.
He next meets a man. "Do you have a job?" the Ragman asks. With a sneer the man replies, "Are you kidding?" and holds up his shirtsleeve. There is no arm in it. He cannot work. He is disabled.
The Ragman says, "Give me your shirt. I'll give you mine."
The man's shirt hangs limp as he takes it off, but the Ragman's shirt hangs firm and full because one of the Ragman's arms is still in the sleeve. It goes with the shirt. When the man puts it on, he has a new arm. The Ragman walks away with one sleeve dangling.
It happens over and over again. The Ragman takes the clothes from the tired, the hurting, the lost, and the lonely. He gathers them to his own body and takes the pains into his own heart. Then he gives new clothes to new lives with new purpose and new joy.
Finally, around midday, the Ragman finds himself at the center of the city where nothing remains but a stinking garbage heap. It is the accumulated refuse of a society lost to anxiety and torture. On Friday afternoon the Ragman climbs the hill, stumbling as he drags his cart behind him. He is tired and sore and pained and bleeding. He falls on the wooden beams of the cart, alone and dying from the disease and disaster he has garnered from others.
Wangerin wonders at the sight. In exhaustion and uncertainty he falls asleep. He lies dreaming nightmares through all of Saturday until he is shaken from his fitful slumbers early on Sunday morning. The ground quakes. Wangerin looks up. In surprise he sees the Ragman stand up. He is alive! The sores are gone, though the scars remain. But the Ragman's clothes are new and clean. Death has been swallowed up and transformed by life!
Still worn and troubled in his spirit, Wangerin cries up to the Ragman, "Dress me, Ragman! Give me your clothes to wear! Make me new!"
We know the picture. It is Jesus coming into our world to share our sufferings and to bear our shame and guilt. Jesus stands in our place, dying our death so that we might gain a new and renewing relationship with God.
Sure, it is hard to explain. But it is also something, according to the Bible, that we cannot live without.
Isaiah 52:13--53:12
The four "Servant Songs" in Isaiah were first identified in a commentary on the prophecy by Bernhard Duhm in 1892:
Isaiah 42:1-9 -- Yahweh identifies and commissions his special envoy who will bring justice among the nations through quiet ministry to the marginalized and the disenfranchised. His work will be successful because the great Creator has chosen this one to be the agent of divine renewal.
Isaiah 49:1-13 -- The Suffering Servant testifies of his unique call and commissioning. His voice and message are then confirmed by successive oracles in which Yahweh speaks, announcing that his servant was ordained for this ministry from before his birth, and that both kings and outcasts will experience divine favor through the work of this one. The outcome will be a restoration of joy to the entire world, which has too long suffered under the consequences of evil.
Isaiah 50:4-9 -- Now the voice of the chosen one is heard even more clearly. The entire poem is in the first person, and is a reflection on both divine anointing for the tasks at hand and also the early backlash of those who do not want Yahweh to disturb their evil machinations. The confrontation thickens between good and evil, and the Suffering Servant stands at its vortex.
Isaiah 52:13--53:12 -- The last and longest of the poems personifies the Suffering Servant most clearly. Here the focus is less on the grand justice that will result from his ministry, and more on the agony that he will endure to accomplish his assigned task. What began as a shout of confidence and joy in the first song has now turned dark and almost defeatist here. Only the final lines of this song serve to remind us that Yahweh is still in control, and that these things do matter for eternal purposes.
Jews believe that it is the Jewish people themselves who function in the role as the arbiter of God's justice among the nations, a task that ultimately crushes its vocalizer in the evil machines of human depravity. This is why the Jews continue to be the prophetic voice of God to the nations, and why they also mark their history with the awful pogroms and bloody reprisals that have been unleashed against them.
Christians, on the other hand, quickly found in these passages a kind of messianic blueprint describing the coming, anointing, teaching, ministry, suffering, and death of Jesus. There is no question but that the hints at divine initiative and personal character and contextual backlash all fit hand-in-glove with the events of Jesus' career.
Hebrews 10:16-25
Steeped as he is in Jewish culture and covenantal outlook, the author reduces all of life to the symbolic representations of the tabernacle. When God took up residence on earth, the furnishings of the tabernacle were designed to provide means by which sinful human beings could approach a holy deity. At the courtyard, on the altar of burnt offering, a sacrificial transaction took place that atoned for inner sin and alienation. The bronze sea, although used only by the priests and Levites, symbolized the external cleansing necessary when making contact with Yahweh. In the holy place were the visible representations of fellowship -- a table always prepared for mealtime hospitality, a lamp giving light, and the altar of incense that reduced the stench of animal sacrifices outside and created a pleasant atmosphere for relaxed conversation. Finally, intimacy with God could be had by passing through the curtain and stepping into the throne room itself, the most holy place. Because this was too large a leap for most sinfully compromised humans to make, access was granted and taken only once a year in the person and representative acts of the high priest.
What Jesus has done, according to the author, is short-circuited the feeble and repetitious efforts at renewing human relations with God by fulfilling all of these practices in a grand once-for-all activity: the cross becomes the altar of burnt offering; baptism is the cleansing washing that replaces the waters of the bronze sea; the Lord's Supper is the on-going experience of the hospitality table; the Holy Spirit is the illuminating presence previously offered by the lamp; prayers (both ours and Jesus') form the new Incense that sweetens the atmosphere when we seek God; and the most holy place, with its mercy seat atop the Ark of the Covenant, is nothing less than God's grand throne room in heaven itself. Indeed, if the microcosm worldview of the tabernacle is expanded and inverted, we can sketch out the meaning of Jesus and the true religion of our lives as a journey from outside the camp into the holy presence of God.
It is obvious from the writer's argument that he and those he is addressing are deeply steeped in the worldview, culture, practices, and religious rites of Judaism. Not only so, but theirs is a conservative, orthodox, historical understanding of the religion of Israel. The Old Testament is the revelation of God, and Israel holds a special place in transmitting the divine outlook and purposes with the human race. Israel's identity was shaped around its religious ceremonies, which themselves emanated from the tabernacle, its furnishings, and its symbolism.
Although the author of Hebrews shares these perspectives with his audience, there is one significant difference between them: he fully believes Jesus has ushered in a culminating change that transcends and makes obsolete these previous expressions of religious identity, while they, due to cultural pressures around them, are not so sure of that. This document is written to convince a community on the verge of slipping away from Jesus back into a pre-Jesus Jewish ritualistic context, that such a move would be unwise and inappropriate.
John 18:1--19:42
The Passion narrative is central to the gospels, consuming about a third of each. While there are great similarities among the four tellings of Jesus' trial and death, unique elements and emphases peak through each time.
Here, in John's gospel, note these particularities: first, the testimony is clearly that of an eyewitness. The details of Jesus' movements are recounted from the point of view of someone who is on the scene. Not only that, but the writer knows names (e.g. "Malchus"), movements (Jesus is brought first to Annas), relationships (working relationship with the high priest), conversations (the bonfire recognition of Pete, precipitating his denials), and so on.
Second, the arrest and trial of Jesus all offer opportunities for Jesus to make known his divinity and his messianic activities. No one seems to believe him, or at least none are ready to act affirmatively on this insight, but Jesus' identity never remains hidden through the whole public accusation and response.
Third, Peter's denials of Jesus are more significant than the "beloved disciple's" connections. In other words, the writer's relationships with the authorities only allows access to these final proceedings, but Peter's actions move along the central message of the gospel (see 20:30-31 and all of John 21). While the "beloved disciple's" testimony affirms the truth and accuracy of the report, Peter stands in for all of us who must make life choices about Jesus' identity and the challenge to respond in faith to the witness that is offered.
Fourth, the manner in which John marks the chronology of Jesus' last week in Jerusalem fulfills the early identification given to Jesus in the gospel: "The lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!" (John 1:29). Following Mark's lead, the Synoptic Gospels clearly identify the final meal that Jesus shared with his disciples as a Passover celebration. Strangely, for all the other symbolism in the fourth gospel, John clearly steers away from that connection in chapter 13. Why?
The answer appears to have several parts to it. First, John deliberately times the events of Jesus' final week so that Jesus is tried and sentenced to death on Friday morning (at the same time as the unblemished Passover lambs were being selected) and crucified during the precise hours when the Passover lambs were being slaughtered in the temple courtyard. In this way John accomplishes a purpose that he indicated at the beginning of his gospel, to portray Jesus as the "Lamb of God" (1:36). For this reason it was important to John not to identify the Last Supper as the Passover, since Jesus must die with the lambs who were being slaughtered prior to that meal.
Second, this does not immediately mean that either John or the Synoptics are telling the story wrongly. Instead, there were actually several different calendars functioning among the Jews of the day, marking the celebration of the Passover with slight variations. These came into being due either to the chronological ordering of each new day (Roman: sunrise to sunrise, or Jewish: sundown to sundown), or the perceived occasion of the new moon that began that month (adjusted differently by Babylonian and Palestinian rabbis).
Thus Jesus and his disciples probably ate a Passover meal together, as the Synoptics identify it, but one that was tied to a different calendar than that used by the bulk of the Jerusalem population. In this way John could leverage the different schedule to communicate a particular emphasis in his portrayal of Jesus' symbolic identity.
Application
The midnight hours of history have been dampened by the tears of those whose heartache grows deeper because of rejection. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me," we say with bold face in the morning sun. But loneliness returns in the darkness and every nasty name or spurious glance becomes a taunting reminder that we're not wanted. Sometimes even God seems a silent and foreboding foe, an enemy warrior.
Among the many sobs of alienation in this world there is one cry of alienation so bitter that it alone can bring peace to others who felt rejection. For, in the terrible beauty of this day, a man is rejected by society, condemned by the governing authorities, and displayed in death on a hideous cross, at odds, it seems, even with God above.
His lips cry, "My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?" The answer is the mystery of salvation: "So that we might never again be forsaken by him."
An Alternative Application
Hebrews 10:16-25. Who were the first recipients of this document? Where were they living? What was their background? When were they caught up in these things?
There are a number of clues that come through the author's words:
They are second generation Christians (2:1; 2:3; 13:7)
Who had come through tough times (10:32):
-Many were publicly ridiculed (10:33)
-A number of their leaders apparently were killed (13:7)
-At least some of them had their property confiscated (10:34)
-Although most had not been martyred, many had spent time in prison (10:34; 13:3)
They knew the Hebrew scriptures well
They had practiced Hebrew religious ceremonies in the past
But they were likely Gentile in ethnic background, having come into Judaism in the first place by way of conversion (10:32)
When all of these things are considered together, subtle demographic lines emerge. Because they are well-educated, communicate in Greek, and appear to have come to Judaism from a Gentile background, it is likely that these people were proselytes to Judaism who had been seeking moral grounding in an increasingly debauched and debasing Roman society. There were many instances in the first centuries BC and AD where non-Jews became enamored of the rigorous lifestyle found in Jewish communities scattered throughout the major Roman cities. After going through years of non-participating observation and instruction, they were then officially declared to be Jews through ritual entrance ceremonies.
As with converts to any cause or religion, these are often the most zealous for their newly adopted perspectives and philosophies. So it must have been quite exciting and shocking when news about Jesus circulated, announcing the arrival of the messiah and the coming of God's final act of revelation and transformation. No doubt many of these Gentile proselytes to Judaism were quick to take the next step in exploring the messianic fulfillments of the religion they had recently adopted.
Of course, it did not take long before tensions within the Jewish community, and later persecutions from without, took the glow off these exuberant times. Now, in the face of renewed threats against Christians by the Roman government, a complicating twist had been added. All Christians, whether Gentile or Jewish in background, were specifically identified as participants in an illegal religious cult, while Jews who did not believe in Jesus retained official protections as part of an already sanctioned religion.
This heightened the confusion of identity issues for proselyte Jews. If they continued to profess Jesus as messiah, they would be separated from the rest of the Jewish community and persecuted by the Roman government, perhaps losing their property, their families, and even their lives in the process. If, however, they gave up the Jesus factor in their messianic Judaism, they would be able to return to the safety and camaraderie of the general Jewish community, with all of its religious rigor and righteousness, and, at the same time, escape threats from the Roman officials. The latter option was a very tempting choice to make. This seems, in fact, to be the background of one of the last and most specific exhortations of Hebrews (12:1-4, 12).
The writer of Hebrews points to others of both Old Testament times and recent difficult circumstances who chose to keep in step with the messianic progression of God's activities, culminating in the coming of Jesus, the messiah. If these followers of the right way could keep their faith, even when it cost them everything, you can do it too! And look! They are the ones who are cheering you on! They believe you can remain faithful. In fact, Jesus himself stands at the end of your journey and beckons you on to the finish line! So don't give up now, just when you are achieving a newer depth in your relationship with God! You can continue on! You can make it!
If this is indeed the context that nurtured Hebrews into being, it is possible to reflect more intelligently on the location of the community in question and the times during which the document was authored. Although the writer of Hebrews talks at length about the sacrifices offered regularly by the priests, there is no indication that either he or his readers were watching these things take place day in and out. The ritual systems of the tabernacle are used like intellectual building blocks of a worldview system. They are deeply engrained in the culture, but not necessarily constantly experienced by those familiar with them, anymore than is true for Christians who talk easily about the crucifixion of Jesus.
Because the scripture passages quoted and exegeted by the author are consistently from the Septuagint, it appears reasonable that the readers were not living in Palestine. The references to Timothy, prison, and people from Italy in Hebrews 13:23-24 make a Roman connection likely, but do not help in determining whether the author or the audience was located there. What is beneficial, however, is the series of hints about successive waves of persecution. In the remembered past, according to the author, an official government pogrom cost many of them their property and material possessions, landed some in jail, and brought about the death of a few of their leaders. Now they were facing a greater threat, and distinctions were being made between Jews who identified with Jesus as messiah and those who did not.
The three periods of significant government persecution against the Christian church during the first century were under emperors Claudius (48-49 AD), Nero (64-68 AD), and Domitian (81-96 AD). If this document is written after one attack and shortly before another is reaching its climax, Hebrews was probably penned in either the early 60s or the early 80s. The more limited persecutions under Claudius seem better suited for the past troubles faced by this group. Also, the fact that the destruction of the temple is nowhere mentioned in this document is interesting. Since so much of the theological argument is based upon the idea that the ritual ceremonies are no longer needed, the destruction of the temple would appear to have been a perfect illustration of the author's understanding of these changing times and of God's own intent to make null and void the ceremonies in that center of Jewish religious practice. In fact, the very choice made by the writer to talk only about the tabernacle and not the temple may be an indication that the temple was still standing. After all, the author did not want to cast aspersions against the cultic rituals that were taking place daily in Jerusalem, but only to go back to their roots and meaning. So he used the tabernacle as his point of reference, knowing that it would serve his theological analogies better than the still-visible rites and customs experienced in the Jerusalem temple by many of them on their pilgrimages. Together these clues seem to push toward an original date of writing in the early 60s, possibly from Ephesus where Timothy was pastor. Since Apollos had gone there as well, he would be a prime candidate for authorship, but there is simply not enough evidence to make a wise decision about that.
Hebrews brings a word of wisdom to the New Testament community. It compares the two great redemptive interruptions of God into human history and shows how these were paired aspects of God's one primary desire to reassert the divine presence and care. Setting them over against each other makes no sense; but neither does remaining handcuffed to the former when its greater replacement has come. True religion is not about how humans can become better people through the ritual acts of even the best of systems; rather, it is about how we can follow Jesus with confidence, especially during times of persecution, since he is the latest and greatest expression of the kindness and majesty of God.
