Jesus & The Finger Of God (part 3)

So by his actions, Jesus clearly presents Himself as a new lawgiver, in the mold of Moses.  If one does not want to go that far and speak to Jesus’ private intentions, one could certainly insist that His biographers wished for their audiences to draw that conclusion. 

In Jesus’ case however, His status goes beyond that of Moses.  Unlike Moses, Jesus does not point to the finger of God as having written the commandments in stone at a time in the distant past, thus pointing to an entity separate from himself in the process.  Jesus does not appeal to the ancient working of the finger of God in the way that one may appeal to an established and recognized authority figure.  Rather, Jesus is reported as speaking of Himself using the same finger of God language that was most assuredly meant to communicate something which He believed to be true of Himself.  Undoubtedly, this is what Luke wants His audience to grasp. 

Later on in the same setting, Jesus goes on to say “For just as Jonah became a sign to the people of Nineveh, so the Son of Man will be a sign to this generation” (11:30).  This use of “Son of Man” is part of a building process within Luke.  That process effectively culminates with Jesus’ linking the coming of the Son of Man, referencing Daniel chapter seven and the Son of Man coming on the clouds to the Ancient of Days in order to receive His kingdom, to the destruction of the Temple, with a repetition of “this generation” in connection with the sign, while also speaking of the Son of Man during the course of His passion (an entirely different subject matter altogether). 

Jesus then, in Luke’s highly structured and structural setting, speaks of Himself in connection to the finger of God (with this functioning on multiple levels), and then speaks of the Son of Man, which can be shown to be self-referential.  Making the connection then, the Son of Man is obviously meant to be understood as a divine figure, and it is the Son of Man (the king of the kingdom of God, the Messiah, the Creator God manifest) that is speaking when providing new laws for the people of that God and casting out demons.       

As this study works backwards through the defining and definitive historical narrative that is the Hebrew Scriptures, the final instance of the finger of God is found in the eighth chapter of Exodus.  There, Moses has struck his staff on the ground, with this striking resulting in the dust of the ground becoming like “gnats throughout all the land of Egypt” (8:16b).  As they had done with the previous signs from Israel’s God that had been provided to Moses in order to prove the veracity of the message he delivered, the magicians of Egypt attempted to match the feat.  However, they were unable to do so.  In response, “The magicians said to Pharaoh, ‘It is the finger of God!’” (8:19a)  

Love On John's Terms (part 26)

Just as it has become apparent that it is a self-sacrificial love as supremely demonstrated in Jesus’ talk of Himself as the good shepherd that comes to undergird the life of the church, and that the absence of self-sacrifice or a willingness to undergo suffering and deprivation will be fatal to the Jesus movement, so also it can be affirmed, as part of an approach to the Scriptures so as to hear them on their own terms and in their own voices, the hearers of the Gospel of John will know that pulling out isolated pieces and examining them independently of the entire narrative, would be damaging to the story and to the message of the Christ as a whole. 

Clearly, the issues of love, Jesus as the embodiment of Israel’s Creator God, miraculous signs, the concept of eternal life (with its exile and exodus subtext that hinges on an understanding of the history of Israel), sight and blindness, the idea of Jesus being the prophet like Moses, Gentile inclusion, bread and water, and talk of Jesus as possibly being demon possessed are to be held in mind while the story is being told (whether it is being heard or read). 

The narrative is constantly building, and it is clearly designed to be consumed as a whole, rather than treating passages in isolation, as this will lead to a consistent mis-construal of the author’s intentions as it relates to his attempt to convey that which he wants to be known about Jesus.  As one considers how strange it seems that the Gospels were originally designed to be heard as dramatic presentations for an orally attuned community rather than read as part of a devotional experience, one is also forced to confess that our post-Gutenberg press culture is just as foreign to John’s author, as would be John’s author’s pre-Gutenberg culture.    

The Gospel reader must subject himself to this reminder because it has a bearing on the entire project of discerning love on John’s terms, related to the whole of the Johannine corpus that does not explicitly reference an author by the name of John (John, 1 John, 2 John, 3 John).  If one intends to understand the ethic of love within the community of Christ-followers, which is an ethic that would appear to be of paramount importance to this author and therefore the community addressed by his composition, it is entirely necessary to take a wide-angle approach to his story of Jesus, attempting to interpret the presentation in a way that allows for an accurate glimpse of the issues with which are being dealt in the early decades of the Christian movement (presumably in the latter part of the first century) through this particular telling of the Jesus tradition. 

Not only must it be said that individual scenes in John’s Gospel are not to be taken in isolation, but it must also be said that histories are not created in isolation.  That is, there is no such thing as a truly objective representation of the facts.  In the process of doing history, and especially when one is doing history that is heavily tinged with theology, as can be seen in the Gospel of John, one is forced to realize that all facts and events are viewed through a lens that is colored by the worldview with which one approaches a given set of facts.  There is nothing wrong with that, but the reader does himself a disservice by failing to acknowledge such things.  Along with that, any creation of a historical narrative will be affected by a culture that is constantly conditioning its members respond to events along certain lines. 

Compassionate Brother (part 13)

The compassion on display is a remarkable response from Esau.  Esau has every right to be angry.  He was grossly dishonored.  He is in a position to justifiably lord himself over Jacob until such a time as Jacob recompenses him for the wrong that has been done to him.  However, he runs to Jacob, embracing him, kissing him as a brother, and weeping with him.  This is indeed a tremendous act of compassion on the part of Esau.  Though he is often dismissed and looked down upon, it is in this very act that Esau reveals himself as the quintessentially compassionate brother. 

As Jacob goes through a process by which he is effectively attempting to divest himself of honor (effectively shaming himself through behavior that is set at quite a distance from behavior that works towards the accrual of honor), Esau’s gracious compassion shines through.  He actually takes shame upon himself (divesting himself of honor) by running to Jacob.  It was well understood that men, in that culture, did not run.  A man’s honor was at least partially measured and revealed by the slowness of his walk.  It was shameful for a man to even show his legs, and with the type of clothing that was common in that day, showing the legs would be necessary for running to take place.  Now, one might believe that Esau was being disingenuous, and was actually harboring resentment towards Jacob, but the fact of Esau’s running to Jacob takes this possibility out of play.  This is extraordinarily revelatory when it comes to providing knowledge of the character of Esau, and this would not be lost on the hearers or culturally attuned readers of the story. 

The scene of Jacob and Esau’s reunion continues, as “Esau looked up and saw the women and children,” asking “Who are these people with you?” (33:5a)  Continuing his effective prostrations before Esau, Jacob answers with “The children whom God has graciously given your servant” (33:5b).  With this, the pattern established by their husband and father is carried forward, as “The female servants came forward with their children and bowed down.  Then Leah came forward with her children and they bowed down.  Finally Joseph and Rachel came forward and bowed down” (33:6-7).  Surely, this pleased the compassionate Esau.  Searching out his brother’s intentions, Esau goes on to as “What did you intend by sending all these herds to meet me?” (33:8a)  Of course, those who have been hearing the story know the answer, as Jacob replies by saying “To find favor in your sight, my lord” (33:8b). 

It can be observed that Jacob has done well in keeping up the language of servant and lord.  Undoubtedly, he is still fearful and hopeful.  What has been seen from Jacob, though assuredly genuine, is also a negotiation tactic.  Jacob has sent the animals ahead of him, laying the groundwork for their face to face meeting, but Esau does not immediately acquiesce in acceptance.  Things will not be so simple for Jacob.  He is not going to be able to give Esau some animals and get himself off the hook.  He is going to have to demonstrate some penitence.  Esau makes it clear that this is not a matter of property.  He says “I have plenty, my brother.  Keep what belongs to you” (33:9). 

Jacob insists and even ups the ante, moving beyond the use of servant and lord while also presuming Esau’s satisfaction, saying “If I have found favor in your sight, accept my gift from my hand.  Now that I have seen your face and you have accepted me, it is as if I have seen the face of God.  Please take my present that was brought to you, for God has been generous to me and I have all I need” (33:10-11a).  With this, it is said that Esau relents and accepts the gift, though it seems as if he does so in a way that is actually against his wishes, especially as he has demonstrated such compassion and mercy, and because there is nothing in the Scriptural record to suggest that this compassion was not genuine.