“I, the one speaking to you, am he.”
John 4:26
“This way you will know and understand that
the Father is in me and I in the Father.”
John 10:38
“I am in them and you are in me,
so that they may be made completely one….”
John 17:23
When Jesus leaves Judea and goes to
Galilee, he has to travel through Samaria. So, he comes to a town in
Samaria called Sychar near the property that Jacob had given his son
Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus sits down at the well around
noon, because he is worn out from his journey. He is alone in his
weariness since his disciples have gone into town to buy food.
In spite of how he
is affected, he is not in a desperate physical state. His thirst,
however, is urgent, and his palpable need opens up a unique (read
uncommon) opportunity to make a deep relational connection, which would
constitute the strategic shift in God’s trajectory of covenant
relationship.
The Strategic Shift of God’s Trajectory
Jesus vulnerably
initiates relation involvement with a Samaritan woman that counters the
prevailing religious and cultural norms. She likely is suspicious of
his intentions; and given her marital history, she is even ostracized by
other Samaritan women and thus came to draw water alone at midday. So,
she openly raises the question, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a
drink from me?” (For Jews don’t associate with Samaritans.)
This curious interaction is not an accidental encounter that happens by
chance. In his designed purpose, Jesus feels strongly in his resolve to
enact his function set apart from the existing common, which
distinctly embodies his uncommon (read holy) identity. He opens
his heart to this marginalized woman, and she responds vulnerably to
complete this relational connection heart to heart. The relational
outcome is an equalized relational process without stratification, which
determines the involvement for anyone desiring to worship God in
covenant relationship. “This time has now come when the true worshipers
will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the only
persons the Father seeks to be involved in relationship together heart
to heart.”
Taking this all
in, the woman shares with Jesus her belief: “I know that the Messiah is
coming to fulfill this.” Without hesitation, Jesus responds with warm
assurance for her: “I, who speak vulnerably to you, am he—the one you
and others have been waiting for.” With this direct revelation, the
strategic shift of God’s trajectory in response to all persons, peoples,
tribes, nations and languages becomes the experiential truth and
relational reality for persons like her to respond to. She excitedly
claims Jesus’ gospel for herself, and then she goes back to her people
to proclaim what Jesus intimately revealed. As a result of her witness,
many in that town believe in Jesus, and many more believe in him because
of making further connection with him to listen to his words directly.
The strategic shift of God’s trajectory
enacted by Jesus involves a qualitative relational process. Thus,
listening to his words is not the same as merely hearing his words,
because the former requires vulnerable involvement in the
qualitative relational process with Jesus, while the latter engages
just a quantitative means to gain information about him. The latter
is analogous today to using an AI app like ChatGPT to compose his
words with all the information we want. However accurately the
quantity of his words comprise an extrinsic portrait of Jesus for
us, its words use a different language from Jesus’ relational
language, which prevents the relational connection necessary to know
his person and understand his heart. Consequently, the profiles
from such apps can never duplicate the experiential truth and
relational reality of the heart of Jesus’ whole person to have
relationship with together, just as the Samaritan woman’s relational
progression does. Moreover, even if AI develops sentience, it will
never be capable of composing the qualitative feelings of Jesus, but
at best merely a simulated depiction. Yet, these are the
consequences, relational consequences, that many Christians
experience just hearing the words of Jesus, thus who have illusions
of faith in a simulated Jesus that puts them on a different
trajectory than the embodied Word’s. The consequence of such faith
always affects Jesus relationally, causing feelings of hurt, pain,
sadness, frustration and anger, which he will express throughout the
incarnation and into post-ascension (notably Rev 2-3). Like the
Father, these are not the type of followers he seeks, therefore it
is essential to know and understand the heart of his person to truly
be his disciples.
As Jesus’ pivotal
interaction with the Samaritan woman is ending, his disciples return
with food and are shocked that he is talking with her. Yet, as they
will typically do, no one shares their feelings with him. Instead of
openly pursuing what’s primary, they stay at relational distance by
acting on the secondary, and thus keep urging him to eat something. In
spite of physically being worn out, he clarifies and corrects them about
what is primary. Then he redirects their focus to the joint mission of
his true disciples to gather together the fruit of their relational work
that plants, sows and reaps his gospel—just as signified in his
revealing to the Samaritan woman the strategic shift of God’s trajectory
in response to the human condition. Underlying this relational process
of what’s primary, Jesus’ trajectory will unfold further and even
deeper. And as it unfolds, his feelings will never diminish because of
his physical condition. Indeed, his feelings will intensify as his
trajectory deepens to further reveal its significance to the heart of
God.
After his
significant time in Samaria, he leaves there for Galilee. In
anticipation of what will soon be his experience, Jesus testifies that a
prophet has no honor in his own country. This will have some effect on
him but definitely not define his identity and determine his function.
Until then news about him spreads throughout the entire vicinity. The
Galileans welcome him because they have seen everything he did in
Jerusalem during the festival. He proclaims without moderation that
“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent
and believe the good news.” He also teaches in their synagogues and is
praised by everyone.
He goes again to
Cana in Galilee, where he earlier turned water into wine. A royal
official has an ill son at Capernaum. When this man hears that Jesus
has come into Galilee, he pursues Jesus and pleads with him to come down
and heal his son, since he is about to die. Jesus tells him frankly
with mixed feelings, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will
not believe.” He has a disdain for such faith, but he also feels
compassion for the man’s sad situation. The official persists with
Jesus to “come down before my boy dies.” Jesus responds in his
compassion and tells him, “Go, your son will live.” The official takes
Jesus at his word and goes home to discover that it happened just as
Jesus said. So, he and his whole household entrust themselves to
Jesus. This signifies Jesus’ second sign that deepens his trajectory
with these relational connections.
Then he goes back
to Nazareth, where he was brought up. As usual, he enters the synagogue
on the Sabbath and stands up to read. The scroll of the prophet Isaiah
is given to him, and he reads with conviction from Isaiah 61:1-2. As
everyone in the synagogue is focused on him, he says with even greater
conviction, “Today as you listen, this Scripture has been fulfilled.”
They are all
speaking well of him, on the one hand, and are amazed by the gracious
words that come from his mouth. Yet, on the other hand, they say with
skepticism, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” No doubt they want visible proof
of Jesus’ significance as he enacted in Capernaum. Their bias, however,
already precludes their embracing Jesus in his full identity, and limits
their acceptance of him to merely another hometown boy.
Jesus has already
alluded to their rejection of him. Given this reality, Jesus further
reveals that God’s purpose for his prophets is not shaped, defined or
determined by the wishes, desires or even needs of the local
population. When they hear this, everyone in the synagogue becomes
enraged and they forcefully drive him out of town to kill him. But
Jesus eludes them and simply goes on his way, without the anxiety of
escaping as would be expected. Yet, even though he expected to be
rejected by his hometown, this experience has some effect on his heart.
And he always let his heart be affected.
After his abrupt
departure from Nazareth, Jesus goes to live in Capernaum by the sea,
which fulfills further the words from the prophet Isaiah (Isa 9:1-2). A
crowd pursues him as he walks along the Sea of Galilee. He sees two
boats at the edge of the lake; the fishermen had left them and are
washing their nets. So, he takes this opportunity to get into one of
the boats, which belongs to Simon, and asks him to go out a little
further from the land. Then he sits down and is teaching the crowds
from the boat. But Jesus also has a deeper purpose for this
opportunity.
When he finishes
speaking to the crowd, he says confidently to Simon Peter, “Go out into
deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Peter replies
skeptically, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night long and caught
nothing. But if you say so, I’ll let down the nets.” When Simon and
his brother Andrew do this, they catch so great amount of fish that
their nets begin to tear. So, they call to their partners (James and
his brother John) in the other boat to help them. Then they fill both
boats so full of fish that they begin to sink. This experience
penetrates Simon Peter’s heart, and he falls at Jesus’ knees saying, “Go
away from me because I’m a sinful man, Lord.” Jesus tells Peter
tenderly, “Don’t be afraid. From now on you will be catching people.”
Jesus uses this opportunity for his deeper purpose, and with undeniable
conviction he calls Simon, Andrew, James and John to “follow my person
in relationship together.” At this pivotal juncture, they let go of
their common identity and function to follow him—with a new identity and
function, though not without issues and problems.
Together they go
into Capernaum, and immediately Jesus enters the synagogue on the
Sabbath in order to teach. With the depth of his feelings clearly
revealed non-verbally, those present are astonished at his teaching.
Why? Because he is teaching them in qualitative-relational terms as one
who has authority, and not quantitatively like the scribes. This is
indicative of the redemptive change that Jesus is constituting. Later,
he will confront such teachers with the common issue, “Why is my
language not clear to you?”
Theological education and its teachers
need to take to heart the heart of Jesus’ person. The difference
and contrast in the two teachings described above continue to exist
today in churches and the related academy. Teachers in the latter
mode mainly transmit information about God without its
qualitative-relational depth; this is notably propagated in Western
contexts, with its influence pervading the global community. Those
like Jesus communicate the words of God for relationship
together. Their respective authoritative basis is grounded in
either referential language or God’s relational language, with
quantitative terms or qualitative-relational terms. And the
former’s biased lens has strained the global church under the West’s
influence. Even though the former may reverberate in the minds of
those who hear such information about God, only the latter resonates
in the hearts of those listening to the words of God communicated
for relationship together. Jesus’ first disciples had to learn this
difference the hard way, and Christians need to learn from their
discipleship experience. And what we need to learn is that making
this change requires more than a paradigm shift. This is a
turn-around change necessitating the redemptive change that Jesus
brings distinguishing God’s strategic shift. Anything less and any
substitutes reinforce and sustain the status quo.
Jesus is
consciously aware that the premier adversary of redemptive change being
constituted in his followers is Satan. He is always on the alert for
Satan and his cohorts’ blatantly overt actions, but also of their subtly
covert influence. As Satan indicated after tempting Jesus, he always
looks for other opportunities to assert his counter-relational work. In
the synagogue, for example, a man is there with an unclean demonic
spirit who cries out with a loud voice: “Leave us alone! What do you
have to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I
know who you are—the Holy One of God!” Indeed, the Uncommon One is
clearly distinguished embodied among the common. But Jesus rebukes him
and says, “Be silent and come out of him.” And the unclean spirit
throws the man into convulsions, shouts with a loud voice, and comes out
of him.
The decisive
assertion of Jesus’ actions amazes all who are present. And they say to
each other bewildered: “What is this message? A new teaching with
authority and power unseen before! For he commands the unclean spirits
and they obey him.” So, news about him begins to spread throughout the
entire vicinity of Galilee. Such reports, however, have yet to grasp
the gospel Jesus is enacting.
Perhaps you wonder
at different times in Jesus’ narrative, why does he not want various
ones who have been positively affected by his actions to say who he
is and what he has enacted? Jesus is on a trajectory that others
could observe or experience in some way. Yet, any testimony about
him is incomplete when merely composed by information about him.
Information alone cannot witness to the experiential truth and
relational reality of his trajectory, which he does not want others
to perceive on a tangent from God’s relational context that he
embodies and God’s relational process that he enacts. In other
words, his trajectories can only be distinguished in wholeness, the
qualitative-relational nature of which can only be experienced and
thus be testified to by those vulnerably involved directly in
reciprocal relationship together with him. As will unfold in his
narrative, these are the only witnesses whom he entrusts to extend
his trajectory in the world. Those who experience only healing,
cleansing or related actions have only an insufficient basis to be
his witnesses. Likewise, if Jesus were incarnate today in the
modern world, in contrast and conflict with the Web 2.0 paradigm he
would not allow the internet’s global structure to determine his
trajectory, nor would he utilize the social media platform to
proclaim his gospel. And he wouldn’t text his feelings using emojis.
Christians need to pay deeper attention to his affective narrative
and understand the heart of his whole person, because what prevails
today only simulates belonging and creates illusions of
relationships.
After Jesus leaves the synagogue, he goes into Simon and
Andrew’s house with James and John. Simon’s mother-in-law was suffering
from a high fever, and they ask him about her. So, he goes to her,
takes her gently by the hand, and raises her up. The fever leaves her,
and she begins to serve them as if she were never sick. When evening
comes, many others who are sick and demon-possessed are brought to him.
He heals many with various diseases and drives out many demons, so that
what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah is fulfilled: “He himself
took our weaknesses and carried our diseases” (Isa 53:4). Thus, God’s
trajectory keeps unfolding as the experiential truth and relational
reality.
Very early in the
morning, while it is still dark, Jesus gets up and makes his way to a
deserted place. This is always a special time for him to communicate
intimately in his relationship with the Father; and Jesus is always more
passionate about this than any other time or matter. In the primacy of
relationship, he never allows anything else to have a greater priority.
That’s why his heart is not fragmented by others or diluted by
situations.
This raises the inescapable issue for
Christians and the global church today:
What priorities
define our identity and determine our function, as we profess a
faith that assumes to follow Jesus? What exactly about him do we
claim to follow, and does this profile presume to distinguish the
person of Jesus?
This issue is never-ending in Jesus’
narrative, and it still continues among us, past, present and
future.
Meanwhile, Simon
and his companions search for Jesus, and when they find him they say,
“Everyone is looking for you.” When the crowds also find him, they try
to keep him from leaving them. But he clarifies for them with
uncompromising resolve: “It is necessary for me to proclaim my gospel
about the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because I am sent for
this purpose. This is why I have come, so don’t try to possess me for
yourselves.” Thus, in his pedagogical approach, Jesus teaches in the
synagogues of others towns and cares for their needs. When news about
him spreads throughout Syria, they bring to him all those who are
afflicted, those suffering from various diseases and intense pain, the
demon possessed, anyone. Jesus compassionately heals them, even if it
didn’t result in the primacy of relationship together. Soon large
crowds with mixed motives follow him from Galilee, the Decapolis,
Jerusalem, Judea, and beyond the Jordan. Nevertheless, Jesus neither
loses nor veers from his primary focus. His whole person remains whole
in his identity and function while in the midst of these fragmenting
dynamics. Therefore, in spite of all the surrounding influences he is
subjected to, his trajectory stays on target.
While in one of
the towns, a man with leprosy comes up and kneels before Jesus begging
him, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” Moved with
compassion, Jesus reaches out his hand and touches him tenderly without
shame for contacting a leper, “I am willing, be made clean.”
Immediately the leprosy leaves him and he is made clean. As usual,
Jesus tells the man not to tell anyone about his cleansing but to use it
as an opportunity to get closer to God. Yet, the man couldn’t restrain
his excitement and begins to proclaim it widely and spread the
news—resulting in Jesus being unable to enter a town openly. He often
withdraws to deserted places and prays, yet large crowds pursue him from
everywhere to hear him and be healed.
Though Jesus’
popularity never diminishes his trajectory, it tends to obscure the
human condition in surrounding sociocultural contexts. This condition
operates with injustices and a lack of peace—that is, not the common
peace of merely the absence of conflict, but rather the shalom of
well-being in wholeness that only Jesus brings (Jn 14:27). This
existing reality needing redemptive change, thus required Jesus’
trajectory to go deeper to constitute the tactical shift of God’s
trajectory.
Tactical Shift of God’s Trajectory
At a pivotal
interaction, Jesus is teaching in his own town. So many people gather
around him—including Pharisees and teachers of the law who have come
from every village in Galilee and Judea, and also from Jerusalem—that
there is no more room, not even in the doorway. As Jesus speaks God’s
word to them, some men come to him carrying a paralytic on a stretcher.
Since they are not able to bring the man to Jesus because of the crowd,
they go up on the roof and lower him on the stretcher through the roof
tiles into the middle of the crowd before Jesus. The trust they put in
Jesus really touches him, so Jesus tells the man unequivocally, “Son,
your sins are forgiven.”
Jesus’ redemptive
words raise the eyebrows of the scribes and Pharisees sitting there,
stirring questions in their hearts: “Why does he speak like this? Who
is this man who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God
alone?” Jesus perceives their skepticism and somewhat angrily confronts
them: “Why are you thinking these things in your heart? Which is easier
to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven’, or to say, ‘Get up, take your matt,
and walk’?” Jesus isn’t making qualitative claims and subjective
statements that have no objective basis. So, he uses this interaction
as a pivotal opportunity to reveal how his trajectory is going deeper to
impact the surrounding contexts. Obviously, the former statement could
be made by anyone without having a valid basis of verification, but the
latter could only be stated if verified before your eyes. Jesus
integrates the two choices to demonstrate how his (and God’s) trajectory
is going deeper into the human context to affect human minds and hearts.
“But so that you
may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he
warmly addresses the paralyzed man—“I affirm your whole person: Get up,
take your stretcher, and go home made whole from inner out.”
Immediately he gets up before them, picks up what he had been lying on,
and goes home glorifying God. As a result, those present are filled
with awe saying, “We have never witnessed anything like this”—and they
give glory to God for what Jesus reveals. Yet, skepticism still
persists among some, which exposes their biased lens that refuses to
accept the facts of Jesus that he enacts vulnerably before them. A
moment earlier, Jesus identified such bias as “evil thinking in your
hearts.” This is the encompassing sin of reductionism that most
don’t pay attention to and thus don’t account for in their practice of
faith. The deeper trajectory now enacted by Jesus, however, directly
addresses this scope of sin and holds all accountable—a relational
process resulting in redemptive change for those who respond to Jesus’
heart-level presence and relational involvement.
After this, Jesus
goes out to intentionally focus his trajectory on a person who both
participates in the injustice of that time as well as is subjected to
it. Jesus connects with a tax collector named Levi (Matthew) sitting at
the tax office, and he says to him “Follow me.” So, leaving everything
behind, Levi gets up and begins to follow him. On the surface, Jesus’
call appears inconsistent with what would be expected for his
disciples. Yet, this is a key indicator that Jesus’ trajectory is
deepening. Since Levi is ostracized by the Jewish community, Jesus
purposely involves himself in a grand banquet hosted by Levi at his
house. Many tax collectors and sinners are also eating with Jesus and
his disciples. Thus, Levi represents a key addition to his chosen
disciples in the tactical shift, which equalizes them without the
constraints of their sociocultural distinctions.
When the Pharisees
and their scribes see this “unholy” communion, they complain to his
disciples, “Why does your teacher eat and drink with those who need to
be ostracized?” Now when Jesus hears their complaint, he challenges
their assumptions and corrects their bias: “It is not those who are
healthy who need a doctor, but those who are sick. I have not come to
call the righteous but sinners to turn around. So, go and learn what
this means for your faith practice: I desire mercy and not sacrifice;
live in what’s primary, not secondary.”
Jesus’ inclusive declaration reveals the
tactical depth of his trajectory, which he wants us to learn in
order to follow him. His trajectory is constituted not only by how
inclusive his embrace of individuals is, but equally important is
what underlies “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” What he desires (thelo)
involves not only willfully wanting this but also pressing on to
enact it. This means not only to engage individuals but also to
address their collective contexts and infrastructure—which
“sacrifice” implies about Jewish life. To address the
infrastructure of collectives, however, also necessitates addressing
the full spectrum of the human condition for its redemptive
change—nothing less and no substitutes, as Jesus’ trajectory
enacts. As our thelo enacts this together with him, we will
understand his heart further, and thereby learn that his love goes
beyond his warmth and tenderness to include feelings not commonly
associated with love—enacting tough love so to speak.
Along with
sacrifices, fasting is another key part of the Jewish collective’s
infrastructure. So, people come and ask Jesus a legitimate question:
“Why do John’s disciples and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples eat
and drink instead of fasting?” With excitement for this opportunity,
the conviction of his answer puts this issue into the relational context
of God’s big picture, which then brings to the light the relational
process at the heart of it. That is to say, “as long as the groom is
with the wedding guests, they don’t fast sadly but celebrate together.”
What Jesus alludes to here is the redemptive change of the Jewish
infrastructure, which signifies the old dying in order for the
new to rise. Jesus makes unmistakable, however, that “the new wine”
is incompatible with the old, and that it will not emerge unless the old
is discarded. Regardless of the experiential truth and relational
reality of the new wine constituted by Jesus, there are still those
laboring under the illusion that “the old is better”—whereby assumptions
are made to misdirect or block Jesus’ trajectory from completing his
tactical shift. Such efforts always affect him—especially as they
emerge even among his own disciples—but his feelings simply intensify
with greater resolve.
Later, Jesus goes
up to Jerusalem because a Jewish festival takes place. Jesus doesn’t
reject the Jewish collective and participates in it, but not according
to its infrastructure. By the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there is a pool
called Bethesda, where a large number of the disabled (blind, lame and
paralyzed) lay hoping to be healed by the special water in the pool.
One man who has been disabled for 38 years is there. When Jesus sees
him lying there and realizes he has already been there a long time,
Jesus feels for him saying, “Do you want to get well?” In that context
and time, Jesus isn’t inquiring but opening a unique opportunity to
respond to the man. The disabled man answers, “Sir, I have no one to
put me into the pool before someone else goes down ahead of me.” With a
warm and tender heart, Jesus tells him, “Get up, pick up your mat and
walk.” Instantly, the man gets well, picks up his mat and starts to
walk. Such healing by Jesus has been witnessed before, but the time of
this healing sets the stage for his deeper purpose.
Now, that day
happens to be the Sabbath, and so the Jews negatively tell the man who
was healed, “This is the Sabbath. The law prohibits you from picking up
your mat.” When the Jews discover that Jesus enacted his healing, they
begin persecuting Jesus because he is doing these things on the
Sabbath. This opens up a further opportunity to put the Jewish context
and infrastructure even deeper into the whole context of God’s
trajectory that Jesus embodies and enacts.
So, Jesus makes his heart even more vulnerable and responds to them
saying, “The whole truth is, the Son is not able to do anything on his
own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For however the Father
functions, the Son likewise also functions. For the Father loves the
Son and shows him everything, even greater works than these so that you
will be amazed. And just as the Father raises the dead and gives them
life, so the Son also gives life to whom he wants. The Father, in fact,
judges no one but has given all judgment to the Son, so that all people
may honor the Son just as they honor the Father. Anyone, I say
emphatically, who does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who
sent him. …I can do nothing on my own apart from the Father. I judge
only as I hear, and my judgment is just, because I do not seek my own
will but the will of him who sent me. …You sent messages to John, and
he testified to the truth. I don’t receive human testimony, but I say
these things so that you may be saved and made whole. John was a
burning and shinning lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while
in his light.
“But I have a
greater testimony than John’s because of the works that the Father has
given me to fulfill. These very works testify about me that the Father
has sent me. The Father who sent me has himself testified about me. You
have not heard his voice at any time, and you haven’t seen his form.
Sadly, you don’t have his word planted in your hearts, because you don’t
trust the one he sent. This is the sad reality even though you
diligently study the Scriptures and presume you have eternal life by
them. And yet they testify about me, but you are not willing to come to
me so that you may have life (zoe, qualitative life together).
“I know you—that
you have no love for God within you. I have come in my Father’s name,
and yet you don’t accept me. If someone else comes in their own name,
you will accept him. How can you believe, since you accept glory from
one another but don’t seek the glory that comes from the only God? In
truth, I will not accuse you to the Father. Your accuser is Moses. For
if you believed Moses, you would believe me, because he wrote about me.
But if you don’t believe what he wrote, how will you believe my words?”
As Jesus
vulnerably pours out his heart, he both reveals the heart of the triune
God and exposes their hearts in the outer-in simulations of their faith
and their epistemic illusions. His trajectory will continue to unfold
in this integral process that is both immeasurable and inescapable.
On a Sabbath he is
going through the grain fields. His disciples are hungry and begin to
pick and eat some heads of grain. When the Pharisees see this, they say
to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?”
Even though Jesus is annoyed by their continued pushback and invalid
criticism, here is another opportunity to clarify their theology and
correct their practice needed for their redemptive change. So, he
carefully reviews the Scripture with them to remind them of Jewish
history: that David and his cohorts were hungry and then entered the
house of God and ate the consecrated bread, which was not lawful for
them but only for the priests; that on the Sabbath the priests in the
temple violate the Sabbath and yet are innocent according to the Law.
“Pay attention and take notice, one greater than the temple is here to
bring redemptive change to that context and infrastructure. If you
embraced my thelo to enact the primary over the secondary, you
would not condemn persons who live accordingly. This is the
experiential truth and relational reality from God being enacted before
you: The Sabbath was made for humans and not humans for the Sabbath.
Therefore, the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath.”
This is the new
that rises when the old undergoes redemptive change. And Jesus’
trajectory unfolds for its completion, notably among the collective of
God’s people and their infrastructure. In particular, the theology and
practice of the Jewish collective had become an end in itself by
composing a Rule of Law for its infrastructure such that it merely used
observing the Sabbath, fasting and cleansing as identity markers to
define them in the human context. This can be a subtle process that
Jesus always brings to the forefront for God’s people to discover the
identity they assume for their faith.
A similar scenario
happens on another Sabbath, in which Jesus is teaching in the synagogue
again. A man is there whose right hand is shriveled. Expectantly, the
scribes and Pharisees are watching Jesus acutely to see if they can
further charge him with breaking the law on the Sabbath. Their behavior
arouses Jesus’ anger and also grieves him because of the hardness of
their hearts. So, he tells the man with the shriveled hand to get up
and stand here in the middle. Then, Jesus pointedly faces them with the
question: “Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath or to do evil, to save
life or to destroy it?”
Jesus doesn’t
expect them to answer his question, not because it is rhetorical but
because doing so will prevent them from charging him with being
unlawful. Warmly, Jesus tells the man to stretch his hand, and his hand
is restored. Immediately, the Pharisees are filled with rage and start
plotting with the Herodians against him, how to exterminate him.
Jesus is well
aware of this and simply withdraws with his disciples to the sea. And
in spite of the turmoil his presence generates in others, large crowds
from all the surrounding regions follow him for the good he is doing.
Accordingly, whenever the unclean spirits see him, they fall down before
him and cry out, “You are the Son of God!” And he strongly warns them
not to make him known, so that what was spoken through the prophet
Isaiah is fulfilled: “Here is my beloved in whom I delight…he will
proclaim justice to the nations…until he brings justice to victory” (Isa
42:1-4).
And as he brings
justice to victory, his true disciples must be involved with him in this
fight for justice. This is clearly established in his most significant
teaching, coming next.
During those days
Jesus goes to the mountains to pray and spend all night communicating
with the Father. The primacy of this time and their relationship
together are irreplaceable for Jesus to share the feelings of his heart
and to attend to all the ways he’s been affected. When daylight comes,
he gathers together his twelve disciples and begins to teach them the
essential foundation for the theology and practice of his true
disciples.
His teaching is the Sermon on the Mount
(Mt 5-7), which essentially integrates his manifesto for
discipleship. It begins with the beatitudes, each one of which
should not be taken as separate from the others, because they
compose together the essential steps in their identity formation.
By the nature of who, what and how Jesus’ disciples are, the first
step involves the honest acknowledgement of being “poor in spirit”;
then that must involve being vulnerable with that reality about
oneself, whereby it would lead unavoidably to “mourn,” thus
naturally including the third step of becoming “humble.” As this
identity forms, there is the turnaround for one’s person about the
need for “righteousness.” Contrary to the common Jewish collective
definition of righteousness and its practice, righteousness is a
legal term that involves the whole person whom others can count on
in relationships to be that person—the integrity of which can only
be verified from inner out. Therefore, pivotal in the identity
formation of Jesus’ disciples is for the whole of who, what and how
one is to truly function in relationships as that person Jesus
counts on. So, this identity only becomes an existential reality
for the person “who hungers and thirsts for righteousness.” This is
the only righteousness of significance in God’s family, thus Jesus
makes unequivocal that “unless your righteousness surpasses that of
the scribes and Pharisees, you will never belong to my family”
(5:20). As this identity forms its basic foundation, it further
develops in the remaining steps. Each step includes a relational
outcome that leads to their wholeness integrally as persons and with
relationship together in God’s family.
When the identity
and function of his disciples forms in wholeness, “you are the light of
the world when you don’t diminish this identity; and you are the salt of
the earth when you don’t reduce your function.” Jesus is emphatic about
their identity and function living in wholeness in the primacy of their
relationship together. And his manifesto continues to outline this
relational context and process based only on his relational terms.
Jesus clarifies
his relational terms and corrects other terms used as a substitute,
which creates a bias in the function of faith practice in daily life.
His terms are for covenant relationship together, which converges in
God’s law. These imperative terms are both qualitative and relational,
thus no amount of the quantitative can fulfill them—the shape and
illusion commonly used to obey them. Therefore, Jesus proceeds to
clarify the integrity of his terms and to correct assumptions about
being obedient.
First of all,
God’s terms for covenant relationship are not subject to revisions, even
though in existential practice they are subjected to diverse
interpretations. Thus, with absolute resolve Jesus states that he has
no intention of minimizing or even doing away with God’s lawful terms
“but to fulfill them (i.e., pleroo, to complete) for the
wholeness of covenant relationship together.” Then to distinguish these
qualitative-relational terms, Jesus proceeds to compare their primary
function with contradictory practice that only has some secondary
appearance of obeying the law. The relational outcome of the former
gets to the heart of persons and that depth level of involvement in
relationships together. The latter results in relational consequences
that fragment, separate or disable relationships from the design and
purpose that the Father constitutes for the children in his family.
When his qualitative-relational terms are embodied in their identity and
enacted in their function, they will “be perfect (teleios, i.e.,
complete, fully developed in wholeness) in the very likeness of your
heavenly Father” (5:48).
Underlying the
above practice of the law is the functional dynamic that defines the
identity of the person, which Jesus now addresses in everyday life.
Persons either function from outer in, with a self-consciousness focused
on secondary (or less significant) matters. This is the dynamic that
prevails in the practice of faith—a practice that subtly revolves around
the appearance of self to others, even when an act appears to be for
others. Or persons function from the inner out, with a consciousness of
the heart of their person focused on primary matters. This is the
dynamic, the qualitative-relational dynamic, which connects with the
Father as well as with others in the heart-level involvement of
relationship together—appearances notwithstanding. Therefore, with his
contempt for the former dynamic, Jesus takes his disciples to the heart
of his teaching—expressing his empathy for their struggles living in the
latter dynamic, “Don’t worry…” (6:25-34). When they understand what’s
primary to God, then their person can function in this primacy to
experience the wholeness that God gives in response to them. But they
must also understand that the inner-out dynamic is nonnegotiable with
anything less or any substitutes—“For what is important to you, there
your heart will be also” (6:21)—and that God’s relational process and
outcome are irreducible. Thus, in his empathy Jesus is uncompromising,
with nothing less and no substitutes, “No one can serve two masters”
(6:24).
Then, in the last
part of his manifesto (Mt 7), Jesus clarifies the specific context that
distinguishes God’s terms for their identity and function. That context
(“what is holy,” 7:6) in which this relational process is enacted is set
apart from the common surrounding contexts, because this is the
relational context of the uncommon God. Therefore, to navigate
God’s relational context involves a different process than what is
commonly engaged, which then brings out the contrast and conflict
between them. His disciples need to fully understand this essential
distinction, and that the two are incompatible and cannot be combined or
interchanged. Moreover, they will “be judged by the same standards with
which you judge others, and you will be measured by the same measure you
use” (7:2). This uncommon relational context requires a relational
process uncommon from the prevailing way relationships are conducted.
That challenges and confronts, in particular, how faith is practiced
with a diverse approach that in effect cultivates simulations in their
identity and enables illusions of their function (7:13). Jesus
withholds no consequence from such a relational process: “In spite of
all your claims to your acts of faith in my name, I never knew you in
the relational context and process of my terms for relationship
together” (7:22-23).
His rejection of a
diverse approach to discipleship is encompassing. Even though its
growth and development may appear to be similar to his terms, such
similarities would merely reflect a surface observation commonly made
instead of going deeper. Because of this common condition widely
engaged, Jesus further shares the feelings in his heart to make his
manifesto imperative for his disciples with this nonnegotiable
conclusion:
“Therefore, every person, who listens to my words
composed in relational language and lives by them in their heart from
inner out, will be analogous to a wise person who built their house on a
rock-solid foundation. And no matter how severe the surrounding
conditions, it didn’t collapse because of its irreducible foundation.
But, in contrast, everyone, who hear these words of mine and doesn’t
respond to them from their heart, will be analogous to a foolish person
who built their house on the sand. When severe conditions pounded that
house, it collapsed in an unforgettable experience.”
In other words, his manifesto
cannot be taken lightly, set aside until later, or simply filed away in
a mental folder of Jesus’ teachings. His disciples are accountable for
the terms of all his words—always with nothing less and no substitutes.
When Jesus
finishes sharing the words from his heart, the others besides the
disciples who heard him are amazed with the heart-level integrity of his
teachings. Up to now, they have not witnessed such depth in theological
education. Yet, what kind and level of change Jesus’ qualitative words
bring forth in their lives remains an open question.
Theological education has had a history
of merely documenting the words from Scripture and transmitting that
information in the classroom. This includes the Sermon on the
Mount, which, if listened to in Jesus’ relational language, would
have resulted in a different foundation that would not be as shaky
or even be collapsing as witnessed currently in a multitude of
theological colleges and seminaries. This just corroborates how
imperatively Jesus’ manifesto must be enacted in order to be his
disciples; and teachers, scholars and leaders need to verify the
integrity of their identity and function. And turning to an online
trajectory will not bring the relational outcome of knowing the
Word, as many are placing their hope on—not to mention, the Word
also knowing those so engaged.
After Jesus comes
down from the mountain, large crowds follow him as he enters Capernaum.
A centurion, who loves the Jewish nation and built them a synagogue,
comes to Jesus, pleading with him, “Lord, my valued servant is lying
home paralyzed in terrible agony and about to die.” Jesus responds
kindly, “I will come and heal him.” But the centurion replies, “Lord, I
am not worthy to have you come under my roof, but just say the word, and
my servant will be healed. For I too am a man with authority, with
soldiers under me who obey my commands, and a servant who does what he’s
told to do.” When Jesus hears the centurion’s heart poured out to him,
he is deeply touched and declares to those following him, “I tell you
the truth, I have not found anyone in Israel with such a great faith. I
share with you the reality that many will come from all over to
participate in the banquet with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom
of heaven. But these subjects of the kingdom will be thrown out,
because they don’t truly belong in God’s family.” Then he says heart to
heart in loving response to the centurion, “Go forth! Just as you
trusted me to act, it will be fulfilled.” And his servant is healed at
that very moment. “Just say the word, Jesus,” indeed is the reciprocal
relational involvement that Jesus desires, expects and holds accountable
from his disciples.
Afterward, Jesus
is on his way to a town called Nain, with his disciples and a large
crowd traveling with him. Just as he approaches the town gate, a dead
man is being carried out by a large procession from the town. He was
his mother’s only son, and she is a widow. When the Lord sees her, his
heart suffers by her deep pain; his empathy isn’t just a mental process
but always vulnerably involves his heart. So, he responds in tender
love and says, “Don’t weep.” Then he touches the open coffin, and the
pallbearers stop. Compassionately, he says, “Young man, I say to you,
arise.” The dead son sits up and begins to speak. Then, in his family
love Jesus reconnects the son with his mother. She simply receives him
back joyfully, without wondering what just happened. But the others are
in awe and glorify God, saying “A great prophet has risen among us,” and
“God has visited his people.” This report about Jesus spreads
throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.
The reports about
Jesus are not always reliable, with misinformation conflating with the
facts to misrepresent the qualitative-relational significance of his
identity and function. Perhaps because of this, John the Baptist wants
verification directly from the source, so he sends two of his disciples
to ask Jesus, “Are you indeed the one who is to come, or should we
expect someone else?” Jesus answers them with the experiential truth
and relational reality of the facts that he is enacting, which when seen
and heard without a predisposed bias will verify the identity and
function of his whole person.
After John’s
messengers leave with the indisputable truth of Jesus, Jesus begins to
speak to the crowds about John’s uncommon lifestyle and ministry. His
significance cannot be diminished, because he prepared the way for
Jesus’ mission to unfold. Moreover, Jesus declares, on the one hand,
“Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one is greater that
John.” On the other hand, “but the least in the kingdom of God is
greater than he.” In other words, Jesus negates the value given to
human distinctions and equalizes all persons in God’s family. His
declaration forecasts the redemptive change that he will complete in the
tactical shift of God’s trajectory in the surrounding collective context
and infrastructure to equalize God’s family embodied in the church.
Given the existing
condition of the collective context, Jesus then openly shares the mixed
feelings in his heart. “To what should I compare the people of this
generation, and what are they like. They are like children sitting in
the marketplace and calling to each other in different ways; but each
way doesn’t evoke the appropriate response. In a similar way, John came
neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon!’ The Son of
Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look, a glutton and a
drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet, the wisdom of
your ways will be justified only by the truth—the Truth embodied before
you, which many consider to be an inconvenient truth.”
Then Jesus’
trajectory intensifies overtly on the offensive. He boldly begins to
denounce the towns where most of his miracles were done. Why? Because
they do not repent or enact the turnaround necessary to change. “Woe to
you Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the miracles that were
enacted in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented
because of who and what was revealed to them. But I tell you directly,
it will be more favorable for Tyre and Sidon on the day of judgment than
for you. And you, Capernaum, will you be lifted up to heaven? No, you
will go down to Hades. For if the miracles enacted in you were done in
Sodom, it would still dwell until today. But I tell you directly, it
will be more favorable for Sodom on the day of judgment than for you.”
(In this biblical
history, it seems as if the generations have evolved into a Scripture
Alzheimer’s—constrained in a here-and-now culture forgetful of God’s
ongoing presence and involvement.)
At that time Jesus
also firmly reassures others: “Come to me, all of you who are weary from
the human condition and burdened by the surrounding context, and I will
give you rest from inner out. Take up my terms and learn from me,
because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your
whole person from inner out. For my terms are unpretentious and my
burden is not overbearing.”
Another pivotal
interaction reveals Jesus’ trajectory penetrating the inequity of the
prevailing culture and infrastructure. One of the Pharisees invites him
to eat at his house. And a woman in the town, who was a labeled sinner,
finds out that Jesus is reclining at the table in the Pharisee’s house.
Even though that setting is off-limits to her, she brings an alabaster
jar of perfume (a means of her vocation) and goes behind him at his
feet. As her heart pours out weeping, she begins to wash his feet with
her tears, then wipes his feet with her hair, kissing them and anointing
them with the perfume. Jesus fully receives her without embarrassment
or shame.
When the Pharisee
who invited him sees this, he says mumbling to himself, “This woman, if
he is a prophet, he would know who and what kind of woman this is who is
touching him—she’s a sinner!”
Well aware of the
culture clash that is happening, Jesus replies to him without
hesitation, “Simon, I have something to say to you for your honest
assessment.” Simon agrees, “OK, teacher.”
“A creditor had
two debtors. One owed the equivalent of 500 days of wages, and the
other only 50. Since they could not pay it back, he graciously forgave
them both. So, which of them will love him more?”
Simon answers
intellectually, “I suppose the one he forgave more.” Jesus stares at
him and says, “You have judged correctly.” Then, turning to the woman,
he emphasizes to Simon this exposing contradiction: “Can you see this
woman without your biased lens? Contrary to your culture and vigorous
practice, I entered your house and you gave me no water for my feet, but
she, with her tears, has washed my feet and wiped them with her hair.
Furthermore, you gave me no customary kiss, but she hasn’t stopped
kissing my feet since I came in. Moreover, contrary to cultural
stipulation, you didn’t anoint my head with olive oil, but she has
anointed my feet with perfume. Therefore, I tell you unequivocally, her
many sins have been forgiven, which is unmistakably verified by how much
she loves me. But the one who is forgiven little, loves little—no
matter how rigorous your faith.”
Then, Jesus
warmly, tenderly and deeply says to her, “Your sins are forgiven. Your
trusting faith has saved you. Go forth from here in the peace only I
give—my peace as wholeness of your whole person
from inner out.”
And those who are
at the table with him begin to say with puzzlement among themselves,
“Who is this man who even forgives sins?” But they don’t address the
issue of how much they have been forgiven and thereby love.
All Christians also need to assess
personally the essential equation Jesus raises that is basic to our
faith: God’s forgiveness, not simply as a core belief but as the
experiential truth and relational reality that determines in
everyday life our level of interaction with others and how we are
involved with them. ‘Love less or more’ is directly correlated to
the ongoing experience and reality of God’s love for us. Therefore,
whom we do or don’t interact with, and how we are involved with them
or not, all bear witness to his love in us or eluding us. And in
these divisive times prevailing today, what does the world witness
among Christians? Is that witness in fact reinforcing or even
sustaining a divisive climate—even passively in complicity?
As Jesus more
deeply enacts the tactical shift of God’s trajectory, he further
counters the discriminatory culture and inequitable infrastructure. One
significant outcome from his relational process is the turnaround
occurring at the gender level. As he travels from one town and village
to another, he declares the good news of the kingdom of God—which also
includes addressing the bad news in the surrounding context. God’s
kingdom isn’t a concept or a mere future hope, but Jesus embodies it
with his inner circle of disciples that includes some women: women such
as Mary Magdalene (seven demons were cast out of her), Joanna the wife
of Chuza (Herod’s servant), Susanna, and many others who are supporting
this new existential body with their own possessions. The role of women
has often been either ignored or downplayed, but not by Jesus who
affirmed them at the heart of his witnesses. This involves the
redemptive change critical to his tactical shift, which continues to be
the change lacking in many Christian contexts.
With all the
attention forming around Jesus and the agitation also created by his
actions, his biological family seek to restrain him because people are
saying “He’s out of his mind.” During this time, a demon possessed man
who is blind and unable to speak is brought to Jesus. He heals him, so
that the man could both speak and see—once again astounding the crowds
to say “Could this be the Son of David?” But, when the scribes and
Pharisees hear this, they assert, “This man drives out demons only by
Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons.”
In rebuttal, Jesus
declares: “Every kingdom divided against itself is headed for
destruction, and no city or house divided against itself will stand. If
Satan drives out Satan, he is divided against himself. How then will
his kingdom stand? And if I drive out demons by Beelzebul, by whom do
your sons drive them out? For this very reason they will be your
judges. Therefore, if I drive out demons by the Spirit of God, then,
and only then, the kingdom of God has come upon you. And thus, ‘Anyone
who is not with me is against me, and anyone who does not gather with me
scatters.’ Consequently, I assert unequivocally, people will be
forgiven every sin and blasphemy, but the blasphemy against the Spirit
will not be forgiven, either in the present or the future.”
“Accordingly,
every tree is defined by its fruit. So, you divisive brood! How can
you speak good things, much less act in love, when your heart is
unclean. For the mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart.
Understand this existential reality that on the day of judgment people
will have to account for every worthless word they speak”—end of debate.
Then the scribes
and Pharisees shift their tactics and want a sign from the Teacher.
Jesus isn’t fooled and further exposes them for where their hearts are.
So, he refuses to give them a sign, since they already have indicators
from Scripture that all point to him. After setting the record straight
and putting them in their place, he further reinforces the experiential
truth and relational reality of who constitutes his family: “My
brothers, sisters and mother are those who listen carefully and enact
the word of God from their hearts—relationally involved in reciprocal
relationship together with me, where I am.”
While intensifying
the tactical shift of God’s trajectory, Jesus enacts an unexpected shift
in his teaching of God’s words. Since his words constitute the
functional essence of life, they must be understood in his relational
language in order to gain this significance. The common practice is to
take the words from God as composed in referential language to transmit
information about God. With this lens, God’s words are diminished,
lacking the depth of God’s heart, and thereby are seen more shallowly to
reinforce or sustain a perception of God’s function as from outer in,
which humans then bear in likeness. To counter this approach to his
teaching, Jesus shifts to the use of parables in order to communicate
with those truly listening to God’s words in relational language, and
who respond to them accordingly.
As a very large
crowd gathers around him by the sea, Jesus begins to teach them many
things in parables. “Listen! Consider the sower who went out to sow.
As he sowed, some seed fell along the path; it was trampled on and the
birds of the sky devoured it. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it
didn’t have much soil, and it grew up quickly since the soil wasn’t
deep. But when the sun came up, it was scorched, and since it had not
taken root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the
thorns grew up with it and choked it, so it didn’t produce fruit. Still
other seed fell on good ground and it grew up—producing fruit that
increased thirty, sixty and a hundred times.” Then, he calls out
emphatically, “Let anyone who has ears to hear listen.”
In their puzzled
thoughts the disciples ask him about this shift in his teaching and the
meaning of the parables. So, he clarifies this reality:
“The language mysteries about the kingdom of God
involve a relational process, which require a relational response to
know; and that’s why they have been given for you to know. But to those
not relationally involved it has not been given. That’s why I speak to
them in parables, because looking they do not see, and hearing they do
not listen or understand. Isaiah’s prophecy is fulfilled in them, ‘You
will be ever hearing but not really understand; you will be ever seeing
but not really perceiving. For these people’s minds are preoccupied and
their hearts are distant’ (Isa 6:9-10).”
So, he says to his
disciples: “Don’t you understand this parable? How then will you
understand any parable in my teaching? The sower’s seed is the word of
God. Some are like the word sown on the path. They hear it favorably,
then Satan works to negate the word they heard. And others are like
seed sown on rocky ground. When they hear the word, immediately they
receive it with joy. But the word is not received deep enough to take
root in their hearts, so they believe for a while and fall away in a
time of testing. Still others, on the one hand, are the ones who
readily hear the word, but, on the other hand, because of the thorns in
their surrounding contexts that determine the worries of this age, the
illusion of wealth, and the desires for other things, they are
constrained and thus become unfruitful in their faith. That leaves only
the word sown on good ground, distinguishing those who listen and
understand the word with an honest and good heart, whereby they are
vulnerably involved in relationship together with the Word for a
fruitful life.”
Then his words
focus directly on his disciples in the relational process that
integrally defines their identity and determines their function. “No
one, after lighting a lamp (i.e., distinguishing their identity) covers
it with a basket or puts it under a bed, but puts it on a lampstand so
that those who come in may see its light (i.e., distinguishing their
function). For no identity is concealed that won’t be revealed, nor
function hidden that won’t be exposed and brought to light. Therefore,
if you have ears to hear my words, then listen carefully. Pay close
attention to every word I communicate in relational language. By the
measure you use, that measure will define and determine the
results in your everyday life.”
His last statement (Mk 4:24) declares
the definitive paradigm essential for his disciples that will
define the identity and determine the function of them and their
God. Thus, his paradigm underlies the theology and practice of all
Christians. And measures of anything less and any substitutes for
the measures composed by the Word are consequential for the
existential results in our faith daily.
After that, he
presents another parable to them in order to understand their context
together: “The kingdom of God is analogous to a man who sowed good seed
in his field. But while people were sleeping, his enemy came, sowed
weeds among the wheat and left—that is, darnel, a weed similar in
appearance to wheat in the early stages. When the plants sprouted and
produced grain, then the weeds also appeared. The farmer’s servants
reported to him, ‘Master, didn’t you sow good seed in the field? Then
where did the weeds come from?’ He told them without hesitation, ‘An
enemy did this.’ The angry servants replied, ‘So, do you want us to go
and pull out the weeds?’ He stated firmly, ‘Thank you, but no. When
you pull up the weeds, you might also uproot the wheat with them. Let
them both grow together until the harvest. At that time I’ll tell the
reapers, ‘Gather the weeds first and tie them in bundles to burn them,
and then collect the wheat for my barn’.”
Then Jesus
switches from this contextual issue to the process for growing his
family: “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed that a man took and
sowed in his field. The fact is that the mustard seed is the smallest
of all the seeds in the ground, but when grown it’s taller than the
garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the sky come and
nest in its branches.” This process is a relational process and its
outcome is a relational outcome.
Jesus adds another
parable to reinforce this process: “The kingdom of God is like yeast
that a woman took and mixed into 50lbs of flour until all of it was
leavened.” Parables become his main mode of teaching, so that what was
spoken through the prophet is fulfilled, “I will open my mouth in
parables; I will declare things hidden from human thinking since the
creation of the world.”
His disciples
finally have the courage to ask him, “Explain to us the parable of the
weeds in the field.” He responds telling them to take in the context of
God’s big (read whole) picture: “The one who sows the good seed is the
Son of Man; the field is the surrounding context of the world; and the
good seed’s growth, those are the children of God’s family. The weeds
are the children of Satan, who sowed them.” Both sets of children live
co-existing in conflict, with the influence of the latter always engaged
in counter-relational work. “The harvest is the end of the age, and the
harvesters are angels. The Son of Man will send out his cohorts, and
they will complete the relational consequences for the latter group and
fulfill the relational outcome for the former group—the righteous who
will shine like the sun in their Father’s family.
“Therefore, let anyone who currently has open ears listen carefully to
my words in relational language and thereby respond in likeness. And be
assured that the measure you use for your identity and function, and for
your theology and practice, will be the measure you receive for your
results—nothing more and likely something less.”
After he shares with them the parables of hidden treasure, the pearl of
great value, and the net, he further asks them, “Have you understood all
these things?” they answer him sheepishly, “Yes.” He adds expectantly,
“Every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of
God is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom
treasures new and old.”
When Jesus finishes these parables, he goes out to further heal persons,
cast out demons, and even raises a girl from death. One day he and his
disciples get into a boat, and he directs them, “Let’s cross over to the
other side of the lake.” So they leave the crowd and set out, and as
they are sailing Jesus falls asleep. A fierce windstorm comes down on
the lake, so that they are in danger because the high waves are swamping
the boat. But Jesus keeps sleeping through it all. So, they wake him
up shouting in fear, “Master, Master, we’re going to die, don’t you
care?”
Then he gets up, rebukes the wind and raging waves, and says to the sea,
“Silence! Be still!”—and the wind ceases and there is a great calm.
After that, he expresses his disappointment in them: “Why are you
afraid? Where is your faith? Do you still have little or no trust in
me?” And as they typically focused on the secondary at the expense of
the primary, they are fearful and amazed, asking one another, “Who then
is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!”
It is critical for all followers of Jesus
to make a clear distinction between, on the one hand, their faith as
merely a belief that focuses on Jesus as the object of our
belief—a faith which mainly assents to who Jesus is. On the other
hand, faith is the relational trust in Jesus as the subject
person who can be counted on and thus trusted in relationship
together. The latter is the only faith that has significance to
Jesus, and that he requires from all his followers—the relational
function of which is at the heart of his true witnesses and
disciples. Making assumptions about faith is a common practice, but
any measure of faith used is always subject to Jesus’ definitive
paradigm.
Later, he goes to
his hometown and his disciples follow him. When the Sabbath comes, he
begins to teach in the synagogue. Many who hear him are astonished and
say: “Where did this man get these things? What is this wisdom that has
been given to him, and how are these miracles performed by his hands?
Isn’t this the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James,
Joses, Judas and Simon? And aren’t his sisters here with us?” Thus,
based on having such a common background, they are offended by his
presumed arrogance that puts himself above them.
Not surprisingly,
Jesus sadly says to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his
hometown, among his relatives, and in his household.” Given this
surrounding attitude, their unbelief puts limits on what Jesus enacts in
that context. and though not unexpected, he is still amazed at their
lack of trust and is disappointed in their missing out. His experience
is a teaching loop for his followers that their biases predispose them
to diverse measure of faith—the levels of which affect Jesus deeply in
his heart, because he is vulnerably present and relationally involved by
his whole person, nothing less and no substitutes.
As his trajectory
extends to all the towns and villages, his heart is moved with
compassion for the crowds, because they are distressed and dejected,
like sheep without a shepherd. So, he says with urgency to his
disciples: “The harvest is abundant, but faithful workers are few;
therefore, pray to the Lord of the harvest to send out such workers into
his harvest. The time for this essential action is now.”
This leads to
Jesus gathering his twelve disciples in order to send them out in a
trajectory with the power and authority over all demons and to heal
diseases, along with proclaiming the kingdom of God. He also gives them
specific instructions for their trajectory to be traveled lightly with
the bare necessities and to make the proper adjustments to each context
without being distracted by secondary matters or diminishing what’s
primary. In other words, he wants their trajectory to be in likeness of
his. That also means that they are not engaging just individuals out
there, but also integrally addressing the collective context and
infrastructure as well.
Jesus wants them
to be fully aware of what they are intruding on. “Look, I’m sending you
out like sheep among wolves. Therefore, be wise but don’t resort to
trickery or shady tactics. Always beware of your adversaries, because
they will hand you over to local courts and flog you in their
synagogues. You will even be brought before governors and kings because
of me, to bear witness to them and to the Gentiles. But when they hand
you over, don’t worry about how or what you are to speak. For you will
be given what to say at the that time, because it won’t be about you but
the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Take me at my word and
trust me.”
Furthermore, he
wants them to understand the inequity of the surrounding context.
“Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child. Children
will rise up against parents and have them put to death. You, too, will
be hated because of my name. But the person who endures through all
this divisiveness will be made whole. This is what you can expect since
you belong to me. A disciple is not above his teacher, or a slave above
his master. It is well for a disciple to become like his teacher—though
not in a rabbinic mode. So, just as I experienced, if they called the
head of our house Beelzebul, how much more discrimination will target
the members of my household! But don’t be afraid of them, because your
loving Father is in control.
“Therefore,
everyone who openly from their heart confesses about me to others, be
assured that I will also affirm you from my heart before my Father in
heaven. But whoever directly or indirectly denies me before others,
even in their silence, I will also deny before my Father. That’s why
you should never assume that I came to bring common peace on the earth.
The unequivocal truth is that I bring a sword. [The symbol of a sword is
not associated with Jesus, but that’s because his tactical shift of
God’s trajectory is either not understood or selectively ignored,
depending on one’s bias.] For I came to turn a man against his father,
a daughter against her mother, and a person’s enemies will be the
members of their own household [as Micah 7:6 predicted]. And the one
who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and
the one who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of
me. That is to say, whoever doesn’t take up these hard realities to
follow me is not worthy of me. These priorities will result in either
loss or fulfillment for oneself.”
During this time
King Herod hears about everything that is going on, because Jesus’ name
has become well-known. Herod is perplexed about him, because some have
said that John the Baptist has been raised from the dead—whom he had
beheaded. Others say that Elijah appears, or that one of the ancient
prophets has risen. Herod feels threatened, so he wants to see Jesus.
When the apostles
return from their first mission journey without him, they report to
Jesus all that they have done. He responds to them in loving care for
their needs: “Come with me to a remote place away from the crowds and
rest for a while.” He takes them and withdraws privately to a town
called Bethsaida. When the crowds find out, they follow after him.
This opens further opportunities for Jesus to develop his disciples for
their trajectory ahead. Later that day, his disciples approach him and
say, “This place is deserted, and it’s already late. Send the crowd
away so that they can go into the surrounding villages and countryside
to buy themselves something to eat.” Jesus responds with a surprising
challenge, “You give them something to eat.” This set in motion a
mental process that would lead to their deeper development of their
trust in Jesus, which will be at the heart of following him and being
where he is in their discipleship. The outcome from this experience of
feeding the 5,000 will also be amplified later by his feeding the 4,000.
When those among
the 5,000 realize the sign Jesus has enacted, they say, “This truly is
the Prophet who is to come into the world.” As Jesus becomes aware of
their intentions to come and take him by force to make him king, he
immediately makes his disciples get into the boat and go ahead of him to
the other side. Without fear or anxiety, he then simply withdraws from
the crowd and goes to the mountain by himself to pray—his primary
relational connection with the Father. Meanwhile, well into the night,
the boat is in the middle of the sea battered by waves, as they strain
at the oars because the wind is against them. Very early in the morning
Jesus comes toward them walking on the sea. When the disciples see him
actually walking on the water, they are terrified. “It’s a ghost!” they
cry out in fear. But Jesus asserts strongly in response, “Have
courage! It is I. Don’ be afraid.”
Impulsively, Peter
shouts back, “Lord, if it’s you, command me to come to you on the
water.” Jesus welcomes the opportunity in spite of Peter’s
capriciousness and says “Come.” As expected, Peter readily steps out,
but soon is distracted anxiously by the wind. When he sinks, he cries
out a different tune to the Lord that deeply disappoints Jesus, “You of
little faith, why do you doubt and not trust me because of
circumstances? You have to learn what’s primary and submit your person
to me in this relational process, or else your faith will have no
significance to me and to others you intend to serve.”
When they get into
the boat, the wind ceases. Even though the other disciples revere him
as the Son of God, they are still completely astounded by this
experience, because they have not understood about the loaves earlier.
Sadly, instead, their hearts are hardened by keeping relational
distance.
As they cross over
and come to shore at Gennesaret, people immediately recognize him since
his fame has preceded him. People hurry throughout that region and
begin to carry the sick on mats to wherever they hear he is. No matter
what village, town or country he goes to, they lay the sick in the
marketplaces and beg him that they may touch just the end of his robe.
Jesus doesn’t oppose such healing, so whoever touches it is healed. But
he also feels sadness, because the outer things about him have become an
end in themselves rather than a means for connection with his whole
person. In this, even though their situations and circumstances are now
better, they basically are still missing out on what’s most important.
He will clarify and correct this for them in a pivotal interaction to
unfold next. Moreover, even his disciples need to learn to be involved
in this relational dynamic at the heart of his trajectory (1) in order
to “follow my person…and be where I am,” (2) so that their trajectory
will be in the qualitative image and relational likeness of his.
As Jesus’
trajectory penetrates deeper and deeper at the heart level, the
following pivotal interaction is also significant for leading into his
functional shift of God’s trajectory.
Functional Shift of God’s Trajectory
Jesus’ trajectory
penetrates deeper into the heart level in order to distinguish
unmistakably the function primary to God, and thus the integral function
of who and what he embodies and how he enacts his whole person. The
significance of his primary function is critical for his followers to
understand, so that they will be involved with him at this level of
function—the measure of which is not subject to variable engagement.
Jesus clarifies and corrects this function in the next interaction,
which becomes pivotal for who will or will not follow his person.
When the crowd see
that neither Jesus nor his disciples are on this side of the sea, they
get into boats to go to the other side looking for him. They know that
the disciples went off in a boat the day before. So, when they find
Jesus on the other side, they inquire, “Rabbi, when did you get
here?”—not realizing he walked on the water.
Jesus answers with
unveiling words from his heart that makes vulnerable anyone following
him: “The honest reality is that you pursue me, not because you perceive
the signs, but because you ate the loaves and were filled. Don’t work
on the secondary things that will not endure but on the primary that is
never ending, which the Son of Man will fulfill for you because God the
Father has placed his full approval on him.”
They ask without
deeper consideration, “What can we do to perform the works of
God?” Jesus clarifies with pointed conviction that penetrates to
the underlying function facing them: “There is only one work of God, the
primacy of relational work, which is for you to trust from your heart in
the one he has sent face to face on his relational terms.” On the
defensive by this time, they try to put the responsibility back on
Jesus, so they ask, “What sign, then, are you going to do so that we may
see and believe you? What are you going to perform? Our ancestors ate
the manna in the wilderness—just as written that he gave them bread from
heaven to eat.” Jesus rebuts, “The reality is that Moses didn’t give
you the bread from heaven, but my Father gives you the true bread from
heaven. For the bread of God is the person who comes down from heaven
and gives life to the world.” With their lens still focused on the
secondary, they appeal, “Sir, give us this bread always so we will not
be without.”
Jesus asserts
without hesitation, “I am the bread of life. No one who submits to me
will ever be unfulfilled, and no one who trusts in me will ever be
lacking again. But as I emphasize to you, you’ve seen me face to face,
and yet you do not trust me. Everyone the Father gives me will submit
to me, and the one who submits to me I will never push aside. For I
have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but to enact the will
of him who sent me. For this is the will of my Father: that everyone
who sees the Son from inner out and trusts him will have this life in
relationship together forever.”
Then, in their
selective listening of Jesus’ words, the Jews start grumbling among
themselves, because he said “I am the bread that came down from
heaven.” They conclude from their assumptions, “Isn’t this Jesus the
son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I
have come down from heaven’?”
Jesus penetrates
deeper to distinguish the qualitative from the quantitative that he
embodies: “Stop grumbling among yourselves and face this reality. No
one can connect with me unless the Father who sent me leads them. It is
written in the Prophets, ‘And they will all be taught by God’. So,
everyone who has listened to and learns from the Father connects with
me. Now learn also that no one has seen the Father except the one who
is from God; only he has seen the Father. Therefore, listen and learn
further from God, anyone who trusts in me receives the never-ending
quality of life, because I am that qualitative bread of life. Your
ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. Here before
you is the qualitative bread that was sent from God, so that anyone may
partake of it and not die. I, the person face to face before you, am
the living bread that came down from God. If anyone partakes of my
person, they will never stop experiencing the qualitative outcome. Take
to heart that the bread I give for the qualitative life of the world is
my person embodied vulnerably for you to embrace heart to heart—nothing
less and no substitutes.”
The qualitative function that Jesus
enacts is uncommon to the world. Yet, that function in the common’s
terms keeps evolving further entrenched in quantitative
terms—notably today in the modern world of technology. The
quantitative commonly defines human identity and determines human
function in subtle and seductive ways, such that its influence
pervades many Christians and churches. Just like those above
following Jesus, their faith revolves around what God does, notably
for them, and focuses on what they can do for God, if not for
themselves. On this quantitative basis, their faith becomes
disconnected from the qualitative-relational context Jesus embodied,
and distant from the qualitative-relational process he enacted. If
Christians listen carefully, the qualitative functional terms for
relationship together as his followers will unfold from Jesus’
words—the measure of which is integral for the irreducible identity
(nothing less) and nonnegotiable function (no substitutes) of his
true followers. Jesus’ heart is encompassing and inclusive but has
no room for the common; thus his person will not and cannot have
relationship with us on our terms, even with good intentions. The
Shepherd does not follow the sheep!
In the limits and
constraints of their quantitative lens, the Jews argumentatively raise
the issue, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”
Jesus paints the
qualitative picture of the relational process necessary for them to
partake of the substance of his person, and thereby be intimately
involved with him in reciprocal relationship together for this ongoing
relational outcome—the experiential truth and relational reality of
which are measured only by the substance of his person. (And simply
partaking of the communion elements quantified by the bread of his flesh
and the cup of his blood is never sufficient for this relational
outcome.) “Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the
Father, so the one who is nourished, nurtured and sustained by me will
live anew because of my whole person. So, either keep partaking of the
old and die, or take in the new and live.”
Therefore, when
many of his so-called disciples heard his words, they concluded, “This
teaching is hard. Who can accept it?”
Consciously aware
of the grumbling among those disciples, he openly states: “Does this
offend your sensibilities? Then, what if you were to observe the Son of
Man ascending to where he was before? The Spirit is the one who gives
life; the flesh doesn’t help this life process at all. The words that I
have shared with you are of this Spirit and thus are life. Yet, there
are some among you who won’t believe. This is why I told you earlier
that no one can connect with me unless the Father has enabled them.”
In these few words just stated, Jesus
vulnerably reveals the Spirit and the Father, whose persons along
with his point to the whole of God, whose triunity is at the heart
of their function. This constitutes the primacy of their relational
function that defines God’s identity and determines God’s function,
which then also constitutes God’s family in likeness. Who and what
Jesus vulnerably reveals of God and how God is does not
represent a possible reality or even a probable one, but the
existential reality of the whole of God’s vulnerable presence and
relational involvement. Jesus’ trajectory is not distinguished with
anything less or any substitutes. Therefore, the measure we use for
God is the only God we get; and the God we get to use for our faith
is the ….
Without room for
negotiation according to their terms, many of those disciples turn back
and no longer follow him. This is the ongoing tension, conflict and
consequence between his ‘nothing less and no substitutes’ and their
‘anything less and any substitutes’. Given how pervasive the latter is,
Jesus feels compelled to also ask the Twelve, “You don’t want to leave
too, do you?”
Simon Peter speaks
out first, “Lord, to whom will we go? You have the words of eternal
life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” Yet, how
deeply Peter has ingested Jesus words and digested his bread of life is
an open question at this stage. Peter’s function still hasn’t shifted
to the qualitative for his trajectory to be in likeness of Jesus’. So,
the Twelve continue to follow Jesus even as they struggle with the
relational terms and process that Jesus makes the function for his
disciples in reciprocal relationship together. Their struggle will keep
emerging as Jesus’ trajectory keeps going deeper.
In the common
practice of faith, traditions have been central to its heritage and thus
not considered optional in practice. On this basis, the Pharisees and
some scribes confront Jesus, “Why don’t your disciples live according to
the tradition of the elders, instead of eating with unwashed hands?”
Observing tradition is a key identity marker for them, the function of
which has become an end in itself rather than the means for their faith
to be more deeply involved with God. So, Jesus counters by getting to
the underlying function of their faith practice: “Why do you essentially
break God’s commandment (i.e., relational terms) because of your
tradition? You hold on to human tradition faithfully while effectively
abandoning the command of God. You have a subtle way of invalidating
God’s terms for relationship together in order to maintain your
tradition! That is to say, you render the words of God silent and thus
no longer communicated to you, in order for your tradition to be given
priority and transmitted generation to generation. You have become
hypocrites role-playing your faith. Isaiah prophesied correctly about
your function from outer in to expose your role-playing:
‘This people honors me with their lips,
but their heart is far from me.
They worship of me is composed only by rules
taught as doctrine by human commands’ (Isa 29:13).”
Whether formal or informal, tradition has
become a pervasive function to define the identity of God’s people,
and thereby serves their end. This function then determines how God
is engaged at a relational distance and how faith is practiced with
role-playing. This is how God’s relational terms are reduced to
function without relational significance, and how they are
renegotiated even with good intentions to render the involvement of
Christians and churches to subtle relational distance, disconnection
or detachment. And the relational consequence is rarely recognized
because the feedback from the Word of God is rendered silent.
After his feedback
to the Pharisees and scribes, Jesus addresses the crowd, “Listen to me,
all of you, and understand. It is not what goes into the mouth from
outside that defiles a person, but the things that come out of a
person’s mouth are what defile a person.” Then the disciples report to
him, “Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what
you said?” He answers without flinching, “I expect such a reaction. My
feedback’s purpose is to clarify and correct how people function, which
would only be received by those who will change. Every plant that my
heavenly Father didn’t plant will be uprooted. So, leave them alone!
They are simply blind guides. And if the blind guide the blind, both
will fall into a pit.”
Then his disciples
ask him to clarify the parable. He responds with disappointment, “Do
you still lack understanding? Don’t you realized that whatever
goes into the mouth doesn’t go into a person’s heart but into
the stomach and is then eliminated into the toilet. But what comes out
of the mouth comes from the heart; and these are the sins of
reductionism that defile a person, which should not be confused with
eating with unwashed hands. So, always distinguish your function with
the inner out and not by the common’s outer in prevailing all around
you. And don’t let outer-in influences surrounding you shape your
identity and function.” No matter how strongly he shares his feelings,
his warning about their function has yet to change them from inner out.
Jesus gets up and
departs from there to the region of Tyre and Sidon. He enters a house
and doesn’t want anyone to know it. But he cannot escape notice as
usual, which always puts pressure on him and strains him at times. Just
then a Gentile woman comes, falls at his feet and cries out, “Have mercy
on me, Lord, Son of David! My little daughter is severely tormented by
a demon.” His disciples urge him, “Send her away because she’s crying
out after us.” This reflects their bias that makes outer-in
distinctions among people, notably between Jews and Gentiles.
Ironically, Jesus appears to make the same distinction when he responds
to her plea for help and says, “Let the children be fed first, because
it isn’t right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”
This didn’t reflect his feelings because his heart does not engage in
the rejection underlying such discrimination. Rather he is testing how
deep her request to him goes. She responds vulnerably from her heart,
“Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs under the table eat the crumbs that fall
from their master’s table.” That’s what Jesus is hoping to hear and
wants to see from her: “Woman, your trust in me is great. It is
fulfilled for you as you desire from your heart.” When she goes back to
her home, she finds her child lying on the bed, and the demon is gone.
Jesus’ trajectory navigates a
narrow path that is framed by the priorities constituting the
strategic, tactical and functional shifts of God’s trajectory.
Communicating the Word of God to the Jews was an initial priority at
the exclusion of the Gentiles to construct an either-or trajectory.
But God makes no distinctions between them, so Jesus’ trajectory is
only constituted ‘both-and’ and is enacted on no other basis. The
trajectory of Christians and churches may be framed by the same
priorities but in function are not constituted by them to encompass,
reconcile and integrate both-and. If the trajectory of their
identity and function is to be in likeness of Jesus’, it can only be
constituted without the common distinctions of the world and also
must be enacted inclusively of all persons, peoples, tribes, nations
and their related languages. This is the heart-level function that
Jesus’ trajectory keeps enacting for the relational outcomes of
nothing less and no substitutes. Therefore, Christians and churches
need to scrutinize the measure used for their trajectory.
Moving on from
there, Jesus passes along the Sea of Galilee. As the crowds come to
him, he continues to heal those suffering various disabilities. He also
is getting more affected by his twelve disciples, becoming
frustrated with their lack of understanding due to not being vulnerably
involved with him with their hearts, and getting angry with them for the
measures they use to define their and his identity as well as determine
their and his function.
Since Jesus has
compassion for the crowd, he reenacts how he fed the 5,000 earlier to
now feed the 4,000. After completing this and dismissing the crowd, he
and his disciples get into a boat and go to the region of Magadan. At
that point, the Pharisees and Sadducees come and begin to argue with
him, demanding of him a sign from heaven to test him. This tries Jesus’
tolerance and his heart sighs deeply in dismay: “Why does this
generation demand a sign? I tell you openly and directly, no sign will
be given to this generation.” Then he leaves them, gets back into the
boat with his disciples and goes to the other side.
The disciples
forget to bring bread along with them, except for the one loaf left in
the boat. As they’re going, he gives his disciples a strong warning and
strict imperative: “Be careful! Watch out for the yeast of the
Pharisees and Sadducees, because their influence permeates those not
discerning.” Since the disciples were discussing not having brought any
bread with them, they make wrong assumptions about his words. In
conscious awareness of this, he shares his anger with them: “You of
little faith. Why are you discussing the fact you have no bread to feed
us? Do you have hardened hearts? Do you have eyes and not see; do you
have ears and not hear? Why don’t you understand yet from what you
directly experienced firsthand with the 5,000 and the 4,000?” His
feelings are justified and become the basis for how he will address
their function from here on. His heart will not remain within the
limits and constraints either of their expectations of him, or of their
good intentions in how they are. His heart will resonate unmistakably
for them to know his feelings.
When Jesus comes
to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he shares his curiosity with his
disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” they answer, “John the
Baptist, others say Elijah; still others, Jeremiah or one of the ancient
prophets has come back.” What he really wants to know is, “But you, who
do you say that I am?” Peter answers from his mindset, “You are the
Messiah, the Son of the living God.” His view isn’t a conclusion that
he has thought through; rather “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah,
because human reasoning did not reveal this to you but my Father in
heaven.” Then, he highlights Peter’s coming ministry and the role he
will have in the development of the church. This must have stirred in
Peter’s mind, yet his excitement will be short-lived as his mindset is
about to be exposed at its roots.
From then on Jesus
emphasizes to his disciples that it is necessary for him to go to
Jerusalem and suffer many things, be rejected by the elders, chief
priests and scribes, be killed, and be raised the third day. Hearing
that riles Peter up, so he takes Jesus aside and begins to rebuke him
intensely: “Oh no it won’t, Lord! This will never happen to you, the
Messiah!” Peter’s mindset of the Messiah is only of a victorious leader
who would never be defeated. Peter’s overt action precipitates the
angry intolerance from Jesus that will get to the heart and leave
nothing unsaid to Peter: “Get behind me, Satan, you renegade! You, you
yourself, are a hindrance to me, because you’re not focused on God’s
concerns but your human concerns. Make no mistake about your bias.”
At that point, he
makes it clear about human bias to his disciples and the crowd: “If
anyone wants to follow after my person, let that person deny their
self-interests, take up their cross by dying to the old in them, and
follow me. For whoever wants to save their life as the priority will
lose it, but whoever lets go of that priority because of me will find
that fulfillment. For what will it benefit someone if they gain the
whole world yet lose what’s primary about life? Or what can anyone give
in exchange for the qualitative whole of their life from inner out?”
After six days
Jesus takes Peter, James and John and leads them up a high mountain by
themselves to be alone to pray. As he is praying, the appearance of his
face changes beyond a normal glow and his clothes become dazzling
white. In this transfigured state, two men are talking with him—Moses
and Elijah. The three disciples are in a deep sleep, and when they
become fully awake, they are startled to see his unique glory and the
two men standing with him. As the two men are leaving, Peter says to
Jesus, without knowing what he is really saying since they are
terrified: “Master, it’s good for us to be here. Let’s set up three
shelters: one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.”
While Peter is
still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud envelops them, and a voice comes
from the cloud: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well-pleased.
Listen to him!” When the disciples hear this, they fall face down even
more terrified. Jesus then warmly comes to them and tenderly touches
them saying, “Get up, don’t be afraid of the intimate connections you
just witnessed.” As they look up, they see no one except Jesus alone.
As they are coming
down the mountain, he orders them with mixed feelings in his heart,
“Don’t tell anyone about this unique vision until the Son of Man has
risen from the dead.” They keep this to themselves, confused about what
“rising from the dead” means. Then they finally ask him, “Why do the
scribes say that Elijah must come first.” To clarify the facts of
what’s happening, he states clearly, “Elijah does come first and
restores everything. But I report the existential reality that Elijah
has already come. And they didn’t recognize him, so in their bias they
did whatever they pleased against him. In the same way, the Son of Man
is going to suffer at their hands.” Then it became clear to the
disciples that he has spoken to them about John the Baptist, his
forerunner. But they still didn’t understand about Jesus’ painful death
and rising from the dead. This amplifies his feelings and increasingly
weighs on his heart.
As his trajectory
progresses, one of Jesus’ top priorities is to develop the disciples in
his qualitative image and functional likeness. This development does
not progress smoothly, because the process is a relational process
dependent on the disciples vulnerable reciprocal involvement. Their
variable function in relationship together continues to be a major
source of frustration for Jesus, which he ongoingly addresses with them.
After they come
down from the mountain and join the rest of the disciples, a man from
the crowd around them cries out for Jesus, “Teacher, I now bring my son
to you because he is deeply affected by a demon spirit. I begged your
disciples to drive it out, but they couldn’t.” Jesus throws his hands up
and shakes his head in dismay, “You unbelieving generation, how long
will I be with you and have to put up with you?” Then he rebukes the
unclean spirit, heals the boy, and give him back to his father.
Afterward, Jesus goes into the house, and his disciples ask him
privately, “Why couldn’t we drive it out?” He says straight to their
faces, “Because of your little faith. For the truth is, if you have
faith the size of a mustard seed, you will tell this mountain, ‘Move
from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for
you. But take to heart, that faith is only the relational involvement
of vulnerable trust in me in reciprocal relationship together.”
Then they leave
that place and make their way through Galilee. Jesus shares his
feelings further with the disciples: “Let these words sink in deeper
than merely going into your ears. The Son of Man is about to be
betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him and after that he
will rise three days later.” But they don’t understand what he shared;
and they keep their relational distance from him because they are afraid
to ask him—once again, not be vulnerably involved with him. How they
function is consequential to their development and will need to be
turned around for their identity and function to be of significance to
Jesus.
When Jesus is in a
house in Capernaum, he asks his disciples, “What were you arguing about
on the way?” But in their relational distance they remain silent,
because on the way they had been arguing with one another about who
among them is the greatest. Knowing their thoughts, however, Jesus
addresses them directly in their outer-in concerns about how they define
their identity and the underlying issue of the competing process of
their comparative distinctions: “If anyone wants to be first, they must
redefine their identity from the inner out and thereby function to serve
everyone without outer-in distinctions.” He calls a small child and has
the person stand among them. Taking the child into his arms, he states
firmly; “Here is the inner-out truth and reality of life: Unless you
turn around and become like little children who have not formed outer-in
distinctions, you will not belong to the kingdom of God. Therefore,
whoever humbles themselves from inner out like this child without
distinctions, that person is the greatest in God’s family. And whoever
embraces this child in my likeness on these inner-out terms, also
embraces me and him who sent me for relationship together as family.”
(Be clarified that Jesus does not reverse the stratified infrastructure
prevailing in the common world, but he transforms its outer-in basis to
inner out.)
John interjects a
concern to him, “Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in your
name, and we tried to stop him because he wasn’t following us”—even
though the disciples couldn’t cast out demons earlier. Jesus retorts
immediately, “Don’t stop him because whoever is not against us is for
us, period. But, on the other hand, whoever causes one of these little
ones who trust in me to fall away, well, it would be better for them if
a heavy millstone were hung around their neck and they were thrown into
the sea. Woe to the world because of such influential function, which
inevitably exists in surrounding contexts. But woe to that person by
whom such function is enacted. Therefore, if any part of you is shaped
by this function to reduce your person, then it is imperative for that
part of you to die, so the new will rise to define your identity and
determine your function.”
“Now if your
brother or sister engages in sin of reductionism, make the choice from
your heart to tell them how they are wrong. If they listen to you, you
have helped them to turn around. But if they won’t listen to or agree
with you, bring one or two others in to help support your concern for
how they live. If they still will not turn around, then bring in the
church’s support. Then if they still don’t submit to the fellowship of
believers, let them merely continue in the identity and function of the
surrounding context of their real belonging. If you gather together in
support of one another, be assured that I am always involved with you at
that time in that supporting way.”
Peter then raises
the issue, ‘Lord, how many times must I forgive my brother or sister who
sins against me.? As many as seven times?” He is obviously focused on
a quantitative measure, but Jesus responds back qualitatively with the
primacy of relationship: “I tell you unequivocally, not as many as seven
but seventy times seven.” In other words, Jesus isn’t discussing to
what extent contrarian relationship can be tolerated, but he focuses on
how often relationships can come together and be reconciled; and those
who follow him need to respond to others just as he has responded
ongoingly to them by forgiving “70 x 7.”
As the functional
shift of his trajectory keeps going deeper, Jesus builds on the
foundation of his discipleship manifesto that he made definitive in the
Sermon on the Mount. So, when a scribe professes to him, “Teacher, I
will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus tells him frankly, “Foxes have
dens, and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has no place
in the surrounding context for even his head to lay and thus belong.”
This scribe is surprised, if not shocked, because he never heard this
before from any of his previous teachers. Then Jesus says to another
potential disciple, “Follow me.” He answers, “OK, Lord, first let me go
bury my father.” Jesus also tells him firmly, “Let the dead bury their
own dead, but you, make following me the priority and spread the news of
the kingdom of God.” Another one claims, “I will follow you, Lord, but
first let me go and say good-bye to my biological family.” But Jesus
makes his discipleship terms clear to him, “No one who puts their hand
to the plow and looks back distracted is suitable for the kingdom of
God.”
What Jesus wants
all of his followers to understand and thus discern in themselves are
the functional simulations that appear to be following him but are only
illusions. Therefore, he always exposes any of this subtlety, which is
commonly based on an incomplete profile of his person. The profile of
Jesus used in “Follow me” is composed by a lens perceiving “me” either
with nothing less and no substitutes or with anything less and any
substitutes.
Without
equivocation, even without apology, Jesus further distinguishes his
disciples in an uncommon discipleship, which is in contrast to
and conflict with the common practiced pervasively in the
surrounding contexts. This conflict emerges further with his own
biological family. The Jewish Festival of Tabernacles is near, and his
brothers want to discount him as a fraud. So, they pressure him, “Leave
here and go to Judea so that your disciples can see your works that you
are doing. For no one does anything in secret while he’s seeking public
recognition. If you in fact do these things, show yourself to the
world.” Their skepticism exposes their disbelief in their own brother.
Jesus doesn’t confront them but simply states the bigger picture: “My
time has not yet arrived, but for you any time is right. The world
cannot hate you since you belong. But it does hate me because I testify
about it—that its works are evil, in conflict with mine. So, go up to
the festival yourselves and be among your kind. I’m not going to this
festival, because my time has not yet fully come.”
After his brothers
have gone up to the festival, Jesus has his own plan that he implements
secretly. The Jews are looking for him at the festival, because they
want to take him into custody. Jesus arrives at the festival secretly,
and when the festival is already half over, he goes into the temple and
begins to teach. The Jews are taken aback, bewildered, “How is this man
so learned, since he hasn’t been trained?”
Jesus speaks to
the issue to get to the heart of the matter: “My teaching is not my own
doing but is from the one who sent me. If anyone chooses to do God’s
will, they will know for sure whether the teaching is from God or if I
merely speak on my own. The one who speaks on his own seeks his own
glory; but he who seeks the glory of the one who sent him is a person of
truth—nothing false about him. Now didn’t Moses give you the law from
God. Yet, none of you really keeps the heart of the law from inner out,
but just observe it from outer in. Is that not why you are trying to
kill me, so I can no longer expose your ways?”
With denial they
shout, “You have a demon! Who is trying to kill you?” And this
divisive context intensifies. Jesus rebuts them to silence all their
accusations. Still, they try to seize him, but no one lays a hand on
him because his hour has not yet come. Even the temple guards, sent by
the chief priests and Pharisees to arrest him, come back empty-handed,
taken aback by his words, “No one ever spoke the way this man does!”
Another incident
happens that Jesus uses to make emphatic the function of God’s law from
inner out contrary to merely observing it from outer in. When he begins
to teach again at the temple, the scribes and Pharisees bring a woman
caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. Motivated by their
desire to gain evidence to accuse him, they set up this scheme:
“Teacher, in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So, what
do you say?”
Jesus stoops down
and starts writing on the ground with his finger. When they persist in
questioning him, he stands up and puts the burden on them to act: “The
one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.”
Then he stoops down again and continues writing on the ground. When
they hear this challenge, they leave one by one, starting with the older
men. Only Jesus is left, with the woman in the center. As he stands
up, he says to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, Lord,” she answers. Jesus responds tenderly, “Neither do I
condemn you because of God’s grace. So, turn around and from now on do
not sin anymore.”
Jesus thwarts all
their efforts to trap him, not because he is smarter than any of them
but simply because they are wrong and he is right. Yet, the issue
isn’t about who is right but about the functional significance of the
person’s integrity before God, with God and for God.
The verbal battle
between them continues, in which Jesus sharply contrasts with them. “I
am the light of the world. Anyone who follows me will never walk in the
darkness but will have the light of life.” The Pharisees challenge him,
“Here you are appearing as your own witness; your testimony is not
valid.” Jesus states with clarity, “Even if I testify on my own behalf,
my testimony is valid, for I know where I came from and where I’m
going. But you have no idea where I come from or where I am going. You
judge by human standards. I judge no one with that bias. When I judge,
my assessments are correct, because it is not I alone who judge but I
stand with the Father who sent me. Even in your own law it is written
that the testimony of two witnesses is valid. I am the one who
testifies about myself, and my other witness is the Father who sent me.”
Then they fire
back, “Where is your Father?” Jesus starts to vulnerably reveal his
whole person from inner out, “You know neither me nor my Father. If you
knew me, then you would also know my Father. We are inseparable in who,
what and how we are!”
Later, he says to
them again, “I’m going away; you will look for me, and you will die in
your sin. Where I’m going, you cannot come.” Puzzled, the Jews
deliberate, “Will he kill himself? Is that why he says, ‘Where I go,
you cannot come’?” Jesus further reveals the contrast between them:
“You are from the common context below, I am from the uncommon context
above. You belong to this world, I don’t belong to it. Therefore, I
told you that you will die in your sins. Indeed, if you do not believe
that I am who I claim to be, you will die in your sins.”
All they could say
is “Who are you?” Then he vulnerably reveals the heart of his person,
“Exactly who and what I have been claiming all along. I have a
comprehensive critique of you and your biased views, but since the one
who sent me is irrefutable, I will elaborate for the world only what I
have heard from him.” They don’t comprehend he is speaking to them
about his Father. So, Jesus lays bare his heart: “When you lift up the
Son of Man, then you will know that I am nothing less than my claim, and
that I enact nothing on my own. But just as the Father has taught me, I
only teach these things with no substitutes. My Father who sent me is
intimately with me; he has not left me alone—to be on my own—for I
always fulfill what pleases him.”
As his heart
touches those really listening, many believe in him. Then, with
affirmation, Jesus responds to the Jews who believe him, “If you embrace
the relational terms of my teaching and don’t reinterpret my word, then
you are really my disciples. Thus, you will know the experiential truth
I embody, and the relational reality of the Truth will set you free.”
This strikes a
dissonant chord in others, who raise discord in reaction, “We are
descendants of Abraham, and we have never been enslaved to anyone. How
can you say that we shall be set free?”
Jesus responds
with a penetrating critique that gets to the underlying problem. “This
is the existential reality, even if you deny it. Everyone who commits
sin belongs to it forever. So if I, the Son, sets you free from your
enslavement to sin, you will be free indeed. I know, on the one hand,
you are Abraham’s descendants. Yet you are trying to kill me, because
with your bias you cannot embrace my word. I communicate what I have
seen in my Father’s presence. On the other hand, you do what you have
heard from your father.”
“Our father is
Abraham,” they reply confidently. Penetrating deeper, Jesus states as a
matter of fact, “If you were Abraham’s children, then you would do what
Abraham did. As it is, you are determined to kill me, a man who has
told you the truth that I heard from God. Abraham did not do such
things. The fact is, you are doing what your actual father does.” They
protest, “We are not illegitimate children. The only father we have is
God himself.”
“Is that right!
If God were your Father, you would love me because I came directly from
God to be here. I have not come on my own decision but only because he
sent me. This begs the question, why don’t you understand what I say?
Why? Because you cannot listen to my word communicated in relational
language. This exposes that you belong to your father, Satan, and thus
you want to carry out your father’s desires. He originated sin, which
fragments life and reduces the truth with subtle deception that composes
lies with the language of his own nature—for he is the father of lies.
Yet, because I tell the truth, you do not believe me. Can any of you
prove me guilty of sin? If I am indeed telling the truth, why don’t you
believe me? Only the one who belongs to God listens to God’s words in
relational language. Clearly, then, the reason you do not listen to me
is that you don’t in fact belong to God but, at best, can only assume
you do without basis.”
The need to be set free (redeemed) is
dependent on one’s recognition of being enslaved. Deniers have to
lie to avoid the fact of being tied to sin. Therefore, facing the
truth is predicated on the full scope of sin as reductionism, not
merely as disobedience or moral failure. The turnaround from all
sin requires redemptive change, in which the old dies to be set free
so that the new can rise in wholeness. This redemptive change is
incomplete by merely gaining forgiveness of sin, which by itself is
insufficient for redemption and inadequate for redemptive
change—although anyone can be deceived by illusions and simulations
of them. This makes imperative having a strong view of sin that
encompasses reductionism and its counter-relational workings—which
keeps evolving subtly from the primordial garden in the beginning.
These deniers
react in full defensive mode, “Aren’t we right in saying that you’re a
Samaritan and demon-possessed?” Jesus rebuts, “Another lie! I am not
possessed by a demon. On the contrary, I honor my Father, but you
dishonor me just as your father does. The truth will come out. So, for
anyone who adheres to my word, their person will never be terminated as
yours will be.” The Jews react further, “Now we know for sure that you
are demon-possessed. Abraham died and so did the prophets; yet you say
that if anyone keeps your word, they will never taste death. Are you
greater than Abraham? He died and so did the prophets. Who do you
think you are?”
He replies with
further intensity, “If I glorify myself, my glory means nothing. My
Father, whom you claim as your God, is the one who glorifies me. You
don’t know him, even if you think you do, but I know him. If I said I
did not, I would be a liar like you saying you do. I know him
intimately and keep his word with my whole person. Your father Abraham
rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it and was glad.”
The Jews fire
back, “You aren’t fifty years old yet, and you’ve seen Abraham?” Jesus
simply reveals the reality of this enduring truth, “Before Abraham was
born, I am!” At this, they pick up stones to stone him, but he eludes
them without their awareness.
As Jesus’
trajectory deepens, the inequality among the constituents brings out the
inequity of the infrastructure in the surrounding contexts. When his
disciples see a man blind from birth, they ask him, “Rabbi, who sinned,
this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus clarifies,
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned. This came about so that the
work of God would be displayed in his life. Be alerted, we must do the
relational work of him who sent me while there’s still daylight. Night
is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the
light of the world.”
Then, on this
Sabbath day, Jesus then heals the man, who surprisingly has to confirm
to others that he was blind—moreover that Jesus was the one who healed
him. This restored man endures a demeaning process that sustains his
social status lacking dignity. Finally, when he affirms Jesus to these
skeptics to enlighten them, they react abusively, “You were born
entirely in sin. How dare you lecture us!”—and they throw him out like
some trash. When Jesus hears that they have thrown the man out, he
pursues the man and warmly asks, “Do you believe in the Son of God?” In
his excitement, the man responds, “Who is he, Sir? Tell me so that I
may believe in him.” The man hears the resonating words, “You have seen
him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.” Humbled and touched,
“Lord, I believe,” as he worships Jesus.
Then Jesus
declares, “Part of my trajectory into this world is for judgment, in
order that those who essentially do not see will now see, so that those
who think they see will effectively become blind.” Some of the
Pharisees who are with him hear him say this without any resounding in
their ears, and they query him, “We aren’t blind too, are we?” With
reverberating words Jesus tells them, “If you were blind, you wouldn’t
be tied to sin. But now that you claim you can see, you remain a slave
of sin.”
As the light,
Jesus further distinguishes those truly belonging to God, illuminated by
the analogy of sheep. “Anyone who doesn’t enter the sheep pen by the
gate but climbs in some other way is one who fragments and reduces the
herd. Contrary to that, the one who enters by the gate is the shepherd
of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him and the sheep listen to
his voice, paying attention because he calls his own sheep by name and
leads them out together. When he has brought all his own outside, he
goes ahead of them. His sheep follow him together as one because they
know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they
will run away from him because they don’t recognize the voice of
strangers.” Those gathered around him, however, do not understand what
he is telling them.
Jesus clarifies
his words and thereby illuminates his trajectory contrary to others. “I
am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me functioned to
fragment and reduce those gathered together. But the sheep didn’t
listen to them. In my function as the gate, whoever enters through me
will be saved and belong together. Others function in contrarian ways
that counter belonging together, though they may simulate it and have
illusions about its integrity. I have come so that they may have life
together and have it in wholeness as one.”
Moreover, “I am
the good shepherd. The good shepherd gives his life for the sake of the
sheep. The hired hand is not the shepherd who owns the sheep. So, when
he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away to avoid
any consequences to himself. This happens because he is merely an
employee with no investment to care for the sheep.”
“Most important
for my function, I am the good shepherd distinguished in relational
terms by the primacy of relationship together in wholeness. I know my
own and my own know me—just as the Father knows me intimately and I know
the Father, because we are whole together as One. On this relational
basis and for this relational purpose, I give up my life for those
belonging to me—my heart is theirs, vulnerably opened for intimate
connection as family together. But in this fragmentary world embedded
in inequality and shrouded with inequity, there are other sheep I have
that are not from this sheep pen. I must gather them together also from
these other contexts, and they will listen to my voice. Then the
relational outcome will be one flock with one shepherd. My vulnerably
enacting my identity and function in wholeness to fulfill this purpose
is why the Father loves me. I give my life to no other priority, which
results from exercising my volition from my heart.” This function is
the agency all humans have, who are created in his likeness.
As expected, the
Jews are divided because of his words. Many still claim he has a demon,
and “He is crazy, why do you listen to him?” But others insist, “These
could not be the words of someone who is demon-possessed. Also, can a
demon open the eyes of the blind?” With a biased lens, many false
claims are made against Jesus. A biased lens of Jesus’ words even
divides those favorable to him, because for one reason or another not
all of his words are listened to—a selective process likely to serve
one’s particular interests. Any selective process results in God’s
relational terms being subject to one’s own terms, which are diversely
shaped by surrounding contexts.
Given that Jesus’
days embodied on earth will not be much longer, he develops his
disciples to take over his purpose based on relational terms. He
appoints 72 disciples and sends them in pairs ahead of him to every town
and place where he himself is about to go. He instructs them
passionately: “The harvest is abundant but the workers are few.
Therefore, pray ongoingly and ask the Lord of the harvest to send out
committed workers into his harvest. Now go forth and be consciously
aware that I’m sending you out like lambs among wolves. You have to
assert your persons in what’s primary, but don’t worry about secondary
things, but simply adjust to the surrounding contexts for your needs.
Adjusting is not the same as adapting to
the lifestyle of the surrounding context to get what you want.
Adapting is how human behavior evolves, the measures of which
conflict with Jesus’ terms for his disciples. The adaptive function
results in reflecting, reinforcing and thereby sustaining the ways
that have evolved in surrounding contexts. His disciples will only
be compatible with his trajectory when they adjust to surrounding
contexts and not, for example, assimilate into them. To be clearly
distinguished has always been problematic for many Christians,
especially in Western contexts.
Your priority is to heal the
sick who are there and share with them in relational terms ‘The kingdom
of God is here for you’. If they reject you, clarify the consequences
for them. Whoever listens to you listens to me. Whoever rejects you
rejects me. And whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”
Later, the 72
disciples return joyfully and report in their excitement, “Lord even the
demons submit to us as we invoked your name in our trust of you.” Jesus
thankfully settles them down, “Don’t be surprised. I have given you
the authority to subdue all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm
you. However, don’t rejoice that the spirits submit to you and get
distracted by power relations; rather, celebrate the relational reality
that you belong permanently in God’s family.”
Then, in the
primacy of relationship together, Jesus gets excited in the Holy Spirit
and shares while dancing, “I joyfully and thankfully affirm you, Father,
Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these primary matters
essential to my words, hid them from the intelligent and educated to
discover in their biased lenses, and then revealed their full
significance to persons vulnerably opening their hearts to you like
little children trusting in what you say. Oh my! Yes, indeed, Father,
because this was pleasing in your sight. And in your good pleasure, all
things have been entrusted to me.” Then, further revealing his heart to
his disciples, he adds, “No one deeply knows who the Son is except the
Father; likewise, no one fully knows who the Father is except the Son,
and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” In other words,
reason alone is never sufficient to gain this depth of knowledge and
intimate understanding.
Having said this,
he privately affirms his disciples to confirm the unique relationship
they enjoy together: “Blessed are the eyes that see the inner-out things
you see! Believe me, many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see
but never saw it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.” This
relational basis and its ongoing relational process will prepare and
develop his disciples to extend his trajectory into the world.
In another
interaction, Jesus clarifies and corrects the function necessary to live
by God’s terms for wholeness. An expert of the law stands up to test
him, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus tests him
right back, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?”
Ironically, this expert answers, “Love the Lord your God with all your
heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your
mind; and love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus tells him pointedly,
“You’ve answered with the correct words of the law. Now function by
these relational terms and you will live whole.”
But the expert
exposes his biased lens focused merely on function from the outer in,
and on this shallow basis he wants to prove himself right. So, he asks,
“Who is my neighbor?” Jesus then responds with the function necessary
to fulfill the relational terms of God’s law by highlighting a loving
Samaritan. This person distinguishes the relational involvement and
response essential to the basic function of love according to God’s
relational terms. Jesus wants it understood that only the vulnerable
heart of the person enacts love as defined by God, and that this heart
function also makes vulnerable the neighbor receiving this love.
Moreover, fulfilling the relational function of the terms for
relationship in God’s law is enacted neither in a vacuum nor detached
from the surrounding context. Therefore, by making the heart of his
person vulnerable to others regardless of their status, by implication
this loving Samaritan (1) addresses the inequality that defines him and
neighbors in comparative relations, and (2) counters the inequity of the
surrounding context.
When the expert of
the law acknowledges the love of the Samaritan, Jesus tells him
emphatically, “Go and function vulnerably in the same way—with nothing
less and no substitutes for the heart of your person.”
While Jesus and
his disciples are traveling, he enters a village where a woman named
Martha welcomes him into her house. This occasion will be a pivotal
point in his trajectory, as the functional shift most significantly
penetrates the surrounding sociocultural infrastructure to set apart
(i.e., make uncommon) the discipleship of his disciples as never before.
The following dynamics are critical to understand, which will require
an open mind and vulnerable heart.
Martha has a
sister named Mary, who is about to turn the infrastructure and its
tradition upside down. As expected, Martha enacts her role to prepare
the food to serve Jesus and his disciples. But Mary steps away from her
expected role and boldly engages Jesus by sitting at the Lord’s feet
along with the other disciples, in order to listen directly to his words
of teaching—a place commonly reserved for males as rabbinic tradition
required. Her action must have flabbergasted the other disciples, but
no one intervened to stop Mary’s direct relational involvement with
Jesus. Martha, of course, is engaged in hospitality, which has a
significant function but renders her to only indirect involvement with
Jesus. On the basis of her secondary (though important) function,
seeing Mary’s action she complains to Jesus directly, “Lord, don’t you
care that my sister has left me to do all this work by myself? Tell her
to get back to where she belongs and help me!”
Jesus responds to
Martha warmly and with concern, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and
upset about many things, but I want you to know clearly that only one
thing is necessarily primary. Mary has chosen what is best—regardless
if it offends your tradition or counters the surrounding
infrastructure—and that outcome will not be taken away from her.”
Jesus wants Martha
to learn this vital distinction: Even though she willfully extended
hospitality to all of them, which he appreciates, she does not extend
her person to him to be directly involved in relationship together—the
primacy of relationship that hospitality can never supplant or
substitute for. In other words, Martha keeps her person at a relational
distance from him, which requires less vulnerability from her. In
contrast and thus in conflict with Martha, Mary connects with him
directly person to person by extending her person to be vulnerably
involved with Jesus, her Lord and Teacher.
From this most significant relational connection, even more
unprecedented outcomes will unfold ahead with, by, and for
Jesus—outcomes which will declare unequivocally the relational primacy
composing his gospel in its outcomes for the church. Jesus will be at
the center of these outcomes, both with Mary and with others whose
hearts are also vulnerably involved with him in reciprocal relationship
together.
© 2023 T. Dave Matsuo
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