The gospels portray Jesus as a man of prayer who practiced this form of prayer increasingly unknown in modern Western culture.24 Like Moses and Elijah, he regularly withdrew into solitude for long hours of prayer: “In the morning, a great while before day, he rose and went out to a lonely place and there he prayed.” Another time, “After he had taken leave of them, he went into the hills to pray.”25 Luke reports that Jesus on occasion prayed all night.26 Such lengthy hours of prayer accompanied by solitude do not imply verbal prayer, but contemplation or meditation, the stilling of the mind and directing of the heart toward God reported of Hanina ben Dosa and others in the Jewish spiritual tradition. Jesus practiced one of the classic disciplines for becoming present to the world of Spirit.
The intimacy of Jesus’ experience of Spirit is pointed to by one of the distinctive features of his prayer life: his use of the world Abba to address God.27 An Aramaic word used by very young children to address their father, Abba is like the English “Papa.” Within Judaism, it was common to refer to God with the more formal “Father,” but rare to call God Abba. The most plausible explanation of Jesus’ departure from conventional usage is the intensity of his spiritual experience, a supposition supported by the parallel within Judaism. Namely, Abba is used as a term for God in traditions reported about Jewish charismatics contemporary with Jesus.28 Thus at the heart of Jesus’ prayer life was the experience of communion with God.
“THE SPIRIT OF THE LORD IS UPON ME”
The image of Jesus as a Spirit-filled person in the charismatic stream of Judaism is perfectly crystalized in the words with which, according to Luke, Jesus began his public ministry:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.
About these words, quoted from an earlier charismatic, Jesus said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”29 Though the passage as a whole is often attributed to Luke and not to Jesus himself,30 the picture of Jesus as one “anointed by the Spirit” succinctly summarizes what we find in the gospels. From his baptism onward, through his ordeal in the wilderness, and continuing throughout his ministry, his life and mission were marked by an intense experiential relationship to the Spirit.
Thus far we have been speaking about Jesus’ internal life: his prayer life, the visions he experienced, his sense of intimacy with God. We also see his connection to the world of Spirit in central dimensions of his public life: in the impression he made on others, his claims to authority, and in the style of his speech.
THE IMPRESSION JESUS MADE ON OTHERS
In his classic book about the experience of the holy or the numinous, Rudolf Otto describes the numinous presence that frequently is felt in charismatic figures by those around them. There is something uncanny about such figures which evokes awe and amazement and impresses people with the feeling of another world. There may be something authoritative about the way they speak, penetrating about the way they see, powerful about their presence.31
Such was true of Jesus. A verse in Mark vividly conveys the impression he made, the “cloud of the numinous” that was present around him: “And they were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them; and they were amazed, and those who followed were filled with awe.”32
As a teacher Jesus made a striking impression, very different from the official teachers: “They were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as the scribes.”33 Behind the Greek word for authority lies the rabbinic term for the power or might of God, the Gevurah: “He speaks from the mouth of the Gevurah,”34 that is, from the mouth of power or Spirit.
Popular opinion associated him with earlier charismatic figures, with Elijah or the prophets or John the Baptist.35 The aura of “otherness” around him may explain the reaction of his family on one occasion: “They went out to seize him, for they said, ‘He is beside himself,’ ” that is, insane.36 Even his opponents granted that there was a spiritual power at work in him, but interpreted it as coming from “Beelzebul, the prince of demons.”37
Not surprisingly, he attracted crowds. “The whole city was gathered around the door,” people “could not get near him because of the crowd,” “a great crowd followed him and thronged about him.”38 Such language is only what we would expect in the early church’s account of his ministry, but it also undoubtedly conveys the historical impression which he made. Jesus was widely known as a charismatic figure, and it was this reputation as a man of Spirit that drew the crowds which flocked around him.
JESUS’ OWN SENSE OF AUTHORITY
Jesus himself was aware of this power or authority which others sensed in him. When some of the religious leaders in Jerusalem questioned him about his authority, Jesus responded with another question: “I will ask you a question; answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I do these things. Was the baptism of John from heaven or from men?”39 Was the authority of John “from heaven,” from the “other world,” or from men? Though unexpressed, Jesus’ own view is clear: implicitly he claimed the same authority as John, one grounded neither in institution nor tradition but in the Spirit.
Similarly, Jesus was aware of the power of the Spirit flowing through him. In the context of casting out a demon, he identified the power as the Spirit of God: “If it is by the Spirit of God that I cast out demons, then the Kingdom of God has come upon you.”40 On another occasion, after a woman had touched his garment in order to be healed, he perceived that power had gone out of him.41
The style of Jesus’ teaching also shows an awareness of a numinous authority not derived from tradition. It is seen in his emphatic and unusual “I say unto you” statements, often prefaced in an unprecedented manner with “Amen” (“truly,” “certainly”), a solemn formula which normally followed a statement.42 Sometimes his emphatic “I say unto you” was incorporated into a contrast with the words of the tradition using the pattern, “You have heard that it was said…but I say to you.”43 Thus the language of Jesus indicates an awareness of a tradition-transcending authority, one from the mouth of the Spirit.
Moreover, he called disciples, an action which points to his sense of charismatic authority even as it also testifies to the deep impression he made on people. Though it was relatively common for a teacher within Judaism to have devoted students, the phenomenon of discipleship is different and uncommon, involving an uprooting and a following after. The stories of the call of the disciples describe with compact vividness the imperative of Jesus’ call, the immediacy of their response, and the radical rupture from their previous lives:
And passing along by the Sea of Galilee, Jesus saw Simon and Andrew casting a net in the sea. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. And going on a little farther, he saw James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, who were in their boat mending the nets. And immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants and followed him.44
Later, one of them exclaimed: “Lo, we have left everything and followed you.”45 The phenomenon of discipleship is located within the charismatic stream of Judaism, occurring in response to a charismatic leader.46
Given all of the above, it is not surprising that Jesus had a prophetic consciousness. Not only did some of his contemporaries put him in the prophetic tradition, but he also twice referred to himself as one, albeit somewhat indirectly. In his home town, he said, “A prophet is not without honor, except in his own country.” Later, he said, “It cannot be that a prophet should perish away from Jerusalem.”47 Identifying himself with the prophets, Jesus saw himself in the tradition of those who knew God.48
THE TRANSFIGURATION
Some of his disciples reportedly experienced a strange episode which underlines the connection between J
esus and the world of Spirit. According to Mark, shortly before Jesus began his final journey to Jerusalem, the inner core of the disciples momentarily saw him transformed, his form and clothing suffused with light. Jesus “led them up a high mountain apart by themselves; and he was transfigured before them, and his garments became glistening, intensely white. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses; and they were talking to Jesus.”49
The details link Jesus to the world of the charismatics. Like Moses before him, he momentarily “glowed” with the radiance of the Spirit (stories of “glowing” holy men are also reported elsewhere). With him were seen Elijah and Moses, the two great charismatic figures of the Jewish tradition.50 Of course, it is very difficult to know what to make of the story historically. Did the disciples actually have this experience, or is the whole narrative a symbolic statement of Jesus’ identity? But even if the narrative is viewed as the creation of the church, it remains significant that the tradition associated Jesus with the two great men of Spirit of Israel’s history.
JESUS’ OWN SENSE OF IDENTITY
Jesus himself, his contemporaries, and the gospel writers all identified him with the charismatic stream of Judaism, as having a consciousness akin to the prophets. Did he also think of himself with the exalted titles with which the early church proclaimed him after Easter? Did he think of himself as the Messiah (Christ)? Or as “the Son of God”? As already noted, historical scholarship has tended to give a negative answer.51 But, as with the “heavenly voice” at his baptism, the historical judgment hinges in part upon the sense in which these terms are understood.
If “Son of God” is used in the special Christian sense which emerges in the rest of the New Testament (by the time of Paul and John, preexistent with God from before creation; by the time of Matthew and Luke, conceived by the Spirit and born of a virgin), then almost certainly Jesus did not think of himself as the Son of God. But if “son of God” is given the meaning that it carried within Judaism at the time of Jesus, then it is possible he did. There, “son of God” was used in three different contexts to refer to three different entities, though with a common nuance of meaning. In the Hebrew Bible, it referred to Israel as a whole or to the king of Israel.52 Contemporary with Jesus, the image of God as father and a particular person as God’s son was used, as already noted, in stories about Jewish charismatic holy men. All three uses have one element in common. All designate a relationship of special intimacy with God—Israel as the chosen people, the king as the adopted son, the charismatic as one who knows and is known by God.
In this Jewish sense, Jesus may have thought of himself as “son of God.” He clearly was aware of a relationship of special intimacy. His use of the term Abba has as its corollary the term “son.” There are also a number of passages which may plausibly be attributed to him where he uses father-son imagery to speak at least indirectly of his relationship to God. Finally, the use of the image by other Jewish charismatics contemporary with him, with whom he shared much in common, provides a context in which the term is not only appropriate but virtually expected.
Moreover, there is a web of associations connecting this experiential awareness of intimacy with God with the term Messiah. “Messiah” (Mashiah) in the Jewish Scriptures means simply “anointed,” that is, “smeared with oil.” Such anointing was part of the coronation of the king of Israel, who thereby became God’s “son.” Jesus was aware of both “sonship” and being anointed by the Spirit, as we have seen. Thus the phrases “anointed by God,” “son of God,” and the term “Messiah” are all closely related.
We cannot know if Jesus made these associations himself; no saying which does this explicitly can be confidently attributed to him. Moreover, we may surmise that he did not spend a great deal of time thinking about who he was. Finally, of course, it does not matter whether he thought of himself as Messiah or Son of God, for whether or not he was does not depend on whether he thought so.53 Yet our exploration of his life as a Spirit-filled person shows that the church’s exalted designations of him were not an arbitrary imposition, but had roots in the historical experience of Jesus himself.
Jesus’ intense relationship to the world of Spirit thus not only enables us to glimpse what he was like as a historical figure, but also enables us to understand the origin and appropriateness of the titles with which he was later proclaimed. Clearly, Easter played the major role in leading the followers of Jesus to describe him in the most glorious terms known in his culture. Yet the seeds of the church’s proclamation lie in the experience of the historical Jesus, even if the full-grown plant needed the experience of Easter to allow it to burst forth.
The cumulative impression created by the synoptic gospels is very strong: Jesus stood in the charismatic tradition of Judaism which reached back to the beginnings of Israel. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all portray him as a Spirit-filled person through whom the power of Spirit flowed. His relationship to Spirit was both the source and energy of the mission which he undertook. According to these earliest portraits, Jesus was one who knew the other world, who stood in a long line of mediators stretching back to Elijah and Moses. Indeed, according to them, he was the climax of that history of mediation. Moreover, as we shall see, Jesus’ relationship to the world of Spirit is also the key for understanding the central dimensions of his ministry: as healer, sage, revitalization movement founder, and prophet.
NOTES
4. The Power of the Spirit: The Mighty Deeds of Jesus
Perhaps no aspect of the gospel portrait of Jesus poses so many difficulties for the modern mind as the tradition that he was a “wonder-worker,” a performer of “miracles.” As a culture, we do not take it for granted that there are “miraculous powers” at work in the world, and we are suspicious of events that seem to require an explanation that transcends what we take to be the “natural” laws of cause and effect. Except in cases where a psychosomatic explanation seems possible, miracles violate the modern sense of what is possible.
Within the church itself there is uncertainty about the miraculous elements in the gospels. Christians in mainstream churches, those most open to the intellectual spirit and genuine achievements of the modern age, share in our culture’s suspicion and tend to ignore the miracle stories of Jesus or else to interpret them in such a way that no violation of the modern understanding of what is possible occurs. More “conservative” and fundamentalist Christians tend to insist that the miracles really happened and suspect those who are uncertain about their historical actuality as not really believing in the power of God. Some even argue that the miracles “prove” that Jesus was divine, turning them into an element in a tight rational argument. For charismatic Christians, the emphasis is different. Rather than seeing the miracles as unique and thus as “proofs” of who Jesus was, they are convinced that the same “gifts of the Spirit” are still accessible and operative today. Understandably, they find no difficulty believing that such powers flowed through Jesus.
Modern biblical scholarship has developed its own characteristic approach.1 Concerned with the meaning of the miracle stories as part of the early church’s story of Jesus, it has not been very much concerned with the historicity (the actual “happenedness”) of the miracles. The concern has been with what the gospel writers intended to say with the miracle stories as components of a larger narrative or literary unit, the gospels themselves. Such meanings are disclosed by paying meticulous attention to the relationship of a particular miracle story to the gospel in which it is found: to its use of recurrent themes or motifs which are important to the author, or to its placement within a particular gospel. Attention is also paid to the relationship between the miracle stories and the larger religious-literary tradition of which they are a part. The early Christians who put the miracle stories of Jesus into their present form did so not only in light of their post-Easter experience of the living Christ, but also as part of a rich literary-religious tradition constituted by the Jewish religion and the Hebrew Bible (which was still thei
r sacred Scripture). Not suprisingly, they often alluded to their tradition as they told their stories about Jesus.
For example, the story of Jesus miraculously feeding five thousand people in the wilderness alludes to Israel’s period in the wilderness following the exodus from Egypt under the leadership of Moses. There, where there was no food, the Israelites were nourished by God who fed them with manna, a mysterious breadlike substance which fell from the sky each morning like dew. The story of Jesus feeding the five thousand makes the points that Jesus was one “like unto Moses,” or even greater than Moses; that his ministry was an act of deliverance parallel in significance to the event which first created Israel; and that the people of God were once again being fed by “supernatural food” in the wilderness.
The story not only points backward to the exodus but also forward to the early church’s sacred meal, in which the bread of the eucharist (or Lord’s Supper or communion or mass, as the meal is variously known) was understood as the “body of Christ.” The bread of the eucharist is like the manna in the wilderness, the “supernatural food” whereby the people of God are nourished. Indeed, the author of John’s gospel made the connection explicit. At the conclusion of John’s story of the feeding of the five thousand, the Jesus of John says, “I am the bread of life,” “the bread of God which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”2 That is, the story ends by saying that Jesus (and not the loaves themselves) is the bread in the wilderness, the bread of life.
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