"Say nothing to any man:" A Few Contemplations at Easter Time

I rarely write public thoughts about faith or religion, but this Easter I shall. Though I am publishing them for the world to see, these contemplations are mostly for my own benefit, as a record of my own thought processes.

Curiosity, Charisma, and Power

In the beginning of Jesus's ministry, he was relatively unknown, and could walk and teach freely among the people. His people, the Jews, had not yet discovered or fully realized that they would feel the need to perceive him as a threat to their religious order and authority, or to their understanding of Jewish doctrines. Jesus had performed a few apparent miracles, opening the door of curiosity, enticing people to listen to what he had to say, even if only in the hope of witnessing a miracle for themselves. Jesus began to attract listeners and followers of his teachings. He must have been a charismatic personality, able to capture the attention of crowds with his words and oratory skills. He must have been persuasive and attractive, probably in the physical sense as well as in the interpersonal sense. His days of being able to walk and teach freely among the people did not last long.

He was markedly different. He was a new face with a powerful presence. He taught "as one with authority," not in a hierarchical, organizational, or bureaucratic sense, but in a deeper, more personal sense. The people could feel a sense of authority that emanated from who he was and how he presented himself, in his words, deeds, and demeanor. People around him recognized him as a natural leader, and they looked to him for guidance and insight. And in their instinct to pursue the sensational, they longed to see miracles.

Ambiguity in Miracles

I wonder how Jesus's ministry would have been different if he had refrained from performing miracles. Even without the miracles, his teachings were powerful. He pierced through the cumbersome trappings of the Mosaic traditions as then practiced, and advocated a more direct approach to spiritual well-being. It was a spirituality that did not reject the teachings of those who came before, but that sought to clarify, simplify, and amplify the core of those teachings, with an eye toward a more complete and genuine relationship with God and fellow human beings. Even so, he openly challenged prevailing interpretations of doctrines, performing "forbidden" acts on the Sabbath and exposing the hypocrisy of the religious leaders around him. He was simultaneously retrogressive and progressively radical as he upheld many teachings and prophesies of old while ushering in a new era in which some of the old things would be done away because their purpose had reached an end. It had been fulfilled.

Yet without the miracles he performed, he might not have reached so many people so quickly. His reputation probably would have grown more slowly, and with much less popular fascination. He would have kept a lower profile, and might not have earned the virulent scorn of the Jewish leaders, who eventually succeeded in inciting many to demand his death. Would Jesus have been killed if he had not performed miracles? Without the miracles, would his level of influence and apparent threat to the established order have reached a critical tipping point of official concern? Or would he have simply been an annoyance, branded as a heretic, but not considered so dangerous as to merit the penalty of death?

Since these are all hypothetical questions, any possible answers are necessarily hypothetical as well, and unknowable. Jesus himself seems to have had a somewhat ambiguous relationship with his ability to perform miracles. His first documented miracle was an act of service, but -- superficially at least, setting aside symbolic interpretation for the moment -- a rather superfluous one. He turned water into wine, to extend a wedding feast and please the guests. Making a party last longer, or even making a party more fun probably does not rank very highly on the list of eternal priorities. Even so, Jesus saw fit to do it. He did not advertise this miracle. The servants who drew the water knew what he had done. His disciples, who presumably were present, also knew, and this miracle gave them a reason to believe in Jesus's power. I would assume that both the servants and Jesus's disciples were impressed enough with this inexplicable manifestation of power that they talked to their family and friends about it. I cannot imagine them holding it secret, and there is no record of Jesus commanding them to hold it secret. Things like this tend to not stay unknown for long. It appears that Jesus himself did not publicize it though, or at least that is the impression I get from reading the accounts. He let others do the talking and testifying for him. The record that we have suggests that Jesus concentrated on teaching doctrines when he spoke, not on touting his own abilities or powers. (Toward the end of his ministry, though, he did begin to make bolder proclamations about who he was, even if they were often still somewhat obscured by his frequent use of parables, metaphors, and by answering questions with questions, rather than answers.)

Jesus probably saw his miracles as both necessary and inconvenient. They were necessary to demonstrate that he was something more than a mere mortal, and to provide a sort of "marketing buzz," to use more profane terminology. On the other hand, they were inconvenient because, in some ways, the miracles got in the way of his message. People came to see the spectacle, but did not always stay to hear the deeper or harder teachings, without all the glitter. I can imagine a paparazzi-like atmosphere at times, as Jesus's fame grew. People sought him as a celebrity, even if they did not seek to understand what he taught or who he really was.

In this light, I can understand why Jesus commanded one man to "say nothing to any man" about Jesus healing the man's leprosy. The healed man disregarded this directive and began to "blaze abroad the matter insomuch that Jesus could no more openly enter into the city, but was without in desert places: and they came to him from every quarter."

Jesus's days of easily walking and teaching among the Jews had come to an end because he was too easily recognized, and because his notoriety created enemies among the ranks. His life was at risk. From that point on, people had to seek after him.

Seeking After Him

Most of the miracles that Jesus performed were compassionate acts of service. He healed people of blindness, leprosy, and other physical ailments. He even raised people from the dead, perhaps less for those who had died, and more for those who loved them. Jesus usually did not go out of his way to perform these acts of service, though. He performed some unsolicited miracles, such as turning water into wine, but most of the others occurred as people sought after him.

There was the woman who pressed through the crowd, believing that she could be healed by merely touching his garment. There were the men who tried to bring a man to be healed of Jesus, but, after finding the room too crowded to enter, lifted off the roof and lowered the man, still on his bed, through the roof down to Jesus to be healed.

Jesus did not go about seeking to heal people, as a general rule. He sought to teach them and transform them. He sought to make them better people, and to impart spiritual strength to them. He sought to challenge falsehoods and promote truths. When approached by those who had the desire and faith to be healed, he felt compassion for them and healed them. He would then return to teaching and empowering his audience. Physically healing someone was part of Jesus's capability, but it was not really the reason he was there. His ambitions were far grander. He looked beyond the physicality of ailing bodies and saw the eternal nature of the spirits within them. He acknowledged the pains of mortality, while admonishing those who would listen to think of a type of spiritual wellness that extends beyond this life.

A whole and perfect body in this life cannot last. Mortality takes its toll, as it is designed to do, and erodes the physical body -- no matter how whole or how perfect it has been -- until it can no longer sustain life. The second act of this play will soon be over, giving way to the next act, which, though still obscured behind the curtain, is a continuance of what we have begun previously, of who we are now, and the fulfillment of what we can become.

Jesus's message is not really one of comfort and peace in the physical sense. His message is one of comfort and peace in a spiritual sense. He was anxious to teach the principals of spiritual healing, and less emphatic about physical healing, though he did heal when approached to do so. He would have us know that he is capable of miracles, but does not want us to become distracted by them. His real message focuses elsewhere.

Something More than Immortality Alone

Easter celebrates the healing of a body: the body of Jesus Christ, which was wounded and tortured unto death, and which was restored to life. Jesus's body was not restored to mortality though. It was resurrected to an eternal glory. Lazarus and others that Jesus had raised from the dead would die again in the flesh. But if what Jesus taught is true, even this second physical death does not mark the end of their existence. They move on, move forward, and progress to the next act of the play.

As nice as that is (and it is very nice!), it would cheapen Jesus's teachings to say that he spent his life trying to raise the caliber of the people around him if there was no real reason to do so. If the continuance of our existence (life after death) was the only point he was trying to get across, why did he try so hard to get people to be nice to each other, and to follow him so completely? Is it just because we'll all enjoy each other's company more if we're nicer to each other -- especially if we have to live with each other forever? Maybe that's part of it.

I won't claim to understand all the implications of Jesus's teachings, by any stretch of the imagination, but it is obvious that he loved the people he taught, and that he knew that they would be more complete and more fulfilled as human beings if they followed his teachings. It's also obvious that he was preparing them for something grand that would last beyond this life. He envisioned greatness, and sought to raise others to greatness, not just for here and now, but for future realms of glory that he hinted at, but did not fully explain.

Immortality was one of his purposes, but he also sought to ennoble and to to exalt others. The quality of that immortality was at least as important as immortality itself.

Unanswered Questions and Unmet Expectations

His ministry raises at least as many questions as answers. He often taught indirectly in metaphors and parables, purposely obscuring the message from those unwilling to put in some effort to understand it. There are layers of meaning in his words that are not always grasped in the first attempt.

It was so long ago. So much has changed since then. Even so, the teachings are as fresh and radical now as they were then. So few people attempt to live as he taught, even among those who proclaim allegiance to him. It seems an impossible standard. In fact, it is impossible. We are far too mortal, inhabiting bodies pre-programmed to simultaneously enable spiritual growth, and to slow us down with potentially destructive diversions and temptations.

Perhaps the hardest question of all is whether any of this is true, or if it is merely well-intentioned self-delusionment. To be completely honest, I have to say that most of the time I feel this question is unanswerable, at least for me at this point in my life. As much as I would like to say that I know one way or the other, I don't. Some people who know me may be surprised to hear me say it like that. In our church, we use the phrase "I know it's true" so frequently that to hear someone say that he doesn't know it's true almost sounds tantamount to a confession of heinous sins. Outside of my church, it's probably more common to say "I believe" or "I have faith" that it's true. I feel more comfortable using phrases like that. I hope and trust that Jesus is who he said he is. I have plenty of reasons to believe, and plenty of experiences that I can point to as evidences that it is true, but I still walk by faith. Sometimes I doubt, and at times that doubt runs deep.

In a worst case scenario, there is no life after death, and Jesus is as dead as his executors hoped he would be. I would not want this to be true, but even if it is, I still would not regret looking to Jesus as my exemplar. He charted a bold path through the filth of iniquity and indifference of mediocrity. He led and inspired in ways that no one has before or since. Conversely, if everything he said is true, there is much to rejoice about, and much to be grateful for. Indeed, it is extraordinary what awaits us.

Even when I doubt, I still know -- yes I know -- that Jesus's teachings lead to greater fulfillment in this life. I know that I can and should aspire to meet the lofty expectations he set. I also know that, while I sometimes succeed, I fail so often that I easily become discouraged. Looking back over my life thus far, my record is decidedly mixed. Whether he decides to claim me as a true disciple is not for me to determine on my own. I think my own self-judgment would be rather harsh. I just know that his teachings and his example point me in the right direction, and to the extent that I follow, he is my true leader.