Jesus Off the Wall
23/12/23 09:43
The walls and windows of the churches of my childhood were adorned with paintings of a softhearted, submissive, and subdued Jesus: praying anxiously in a garden; cradling a lamb plucked from the flock; meekly tapping on a thick wooden door; smiling at a circle of well-behaved children; sitting down to dinner with a dozen disciples; and alas, hanging lifelessly on a cross.
I sometimes have problems reconciling the Jesus of church décor to the Jesus frequently found in Scripture—the epigrammatic one who has his finger in the face of a Pharisee, calling him a disgusting fraud and low-life snake.
These days, I seem to be drawn to the Jesus of pithy, unexpected responses and politically incorrect conduct. In Matthew Chapter 8 there are four back-to-back clips that show this Jesus.
In verse 19, a religious leader, evidently intent on learning more from this iconoclastic rabbi, says he wants to tag along.
The walls and windows Jesus: “Thank you for your interest. You’re in for some amazing insights about my father’s kingdom. Just go over there and introduce yourself to Phillip. He’ll take you under his wing and show you how we roll.”
The real Jesus: “Are you ready to rough it? We’re not staying in the best inns, you know” (The Message).
In verse 21, an unnamed student tells the teacher he wants to continue on in Jesus’ traveling classroom but needs some time off to handle his father’s funeral arrangements.
The walls and windows Jesus: “I’m so sorry for your loss, and I totally understand how you must be torn here. Listen, Thomas will give you a schedule of where we’re planning to be over the next two weeks so you can find us and join back in after your family’s affairs have been handled and you’ve had time to comfort your grieving mother. And by the way, I appreciate so much you honoring your father, as Scripture teaches. That hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
The real Jesus: “Follow me now! Let those who are dead care for their own dead” (Living Bible).
In verses 23–27, Jesus and his crew set sail east, across the Sea of Galilee. By mid-course, the captain is asleep; everyone else, however, is awake and wide-eyed as waves from a sudden storm rhythmically break into the boat. Desperately seeking security, they rouse him.
The walls and windows Jesus: “Wow. This is quite the squall. I can’t believe I slept through this. Hold on tight until I can get a handle on the situation. And guys, don’t feel badly for being panicked. It’s a normal human reaction—and more so for the three of you who can’t swim!”
The real Jesus: “Please! What are you so afraid of, you of little faith” (The Voice)?
The last of the four vignettes is found in verses 28–34. Jesus and his followers are now ashore, trekking into territory originally belonging to the tribe of Manasseh, but now inhabited primarily by Gentiles.
Soon they come upon two demon-possessed men who are striking terror into the hearts of the locals, causing them to skirt the crypts these hellions are calling home. But when Jesus shows up, the tables are turned; the beasts from beyond are the ones who are terrified. Jesus honors their request for new hosts: He casts them out of the humans and into a nearby herd of swine. To everyone’s astonishment, pigs fly—over the cliff and into the sea where they all drown!
There certainly is no walls and windows Jesus in this story. The innocent pig farmers lose their livelihood. The animal rights activists (no doubt) pitch a fit. The townsfolk, who apparently prefer peaceful pigs to an impressive prophet, give Jesus and his boys the boot for such socially irresponsible behavior. So, off they trot, back to Nazareth to offend some more Pharisees.
What are we to make of this Jesus whose words and actions regularly tempered the hubris of the sanctimonious and left onlookers aghast? Did Jesus really have an abrasive side—this Jesus who knew that a soft answer could turn away wrath; who sat on a hillside and taught others that words matter, and that if you thoughtlessly used insulting words you could find yourself on the brink of hellfire; who said in the same setting that we should treat others just like we want to be treated?
Yes, I believe he quite often was Jesus off the wall, somewhat sardonic; but let me point out a couple of things. First, he was never cruel or callous, just provocative and penetrating. And if that Jesus makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, you are not alone. There are a lot of folks who favor a kind and gentle guardian over a Lord, mighty in battle. Personally, I think it is because over the course of the last several decades in North America we have increasingly emphasized niceness over frankness, hoping to make Jesus more appealing to unbelievers. But I think such efforts have only caused believers to revere and fear him less.
Second, if you read the red letters, you will see that Jesus did frequently use acerbic words, but they were reserved for those who should have known better—the religious leaders, the teachers of the law, and his disciples. And what he told them was intended to get their attention—to cut through the cords of incredulity and confusion that bound their hearts and minds. Jesus also didn’t hesitate to appropriate his creation (e.g., the pigs, the fig tree, etc.) on occasion to make a powerful point.
But to the poor and powerless and those farthest from the fold, Jesus spoke and demonstrated total grace, mercy, and compassion. I hope you are as frustrated as I am that there are far too many Christians today who don’t make that same differentiation. Comments to and about certain people outside of the faith are just as harsh and condemning as the words they lay on brothers and sisters in Christ who don’t line up with their orthodoxy. I’m sure Jesus has a few choice words he’d like to drop on them.
In your leadership role, never be cruel or callous. Know your various audiences. Speak the truth in love. But don’t hesitate to be firm and forthright when it’s appropriate. And don’t let your Spirit-directed remarks be held for the ransom of an apology that isn’t warranted. It annoys me to no end how someone will employ social media to implore the masses to be outraged enough to shower an opponent with shame and get him or her to cough up a mea culpa. Victory is then declared. If Jesus’ three-year ministry were taking place today, the Twittersphere would be melting down with demands for apologies coming from every sector of society. He would be “crucified” on the Internet long before being crucified on a cross.
In closing, know that it’s okay to be comforted by the calm Jesus depicted in the paintings on the wall in the narthex of your church. But know that you can also seek solace in the Jesus who is off the wall and outside the frame—the one who casts aside niceties, when needed, to make a prodigious point. This is the Jesus who can grab your attention and keep you veracious and ambitious.
I often hear people utter that clichéd question: “What would Jesus do?” My mind immediately goes to a poster I once saw. It suggests that overturning tables and chasing people with a whip is within the realm of possibilities. Perhaps that’s a picture that should be on the wall behind the pulpit in our churches these days.
I sometimes have problems reconciling the Jesus of church décor to the Jesus frequently found in Scripture—the epigrammatic one who has his finger in the face of a Pharisee, calling him a disgusting fraud and low-life snake.
These days, I seem to be drawn to the Jesus of pithy, unexpected responses and politically incorrect conduct. In Matthew Chapter 8 there are four back-to-back clips that show this Jesus.
In verse 19, a religious leader, evidently intent on learning more from this iconoclastic rabbi, says he wants to tag along.
The walls and windows Jesus: “Thank you for your interest. You’re in for some amazing insights about my father’s kingdom. Just go over there and introduce yourself to Phillip. He’ll take you under his wing and show you how we roll.”
The real Jesus: “Are you ready to rough it? We’re not staying in the best inns, you know” (The Message).
In verse 21, an unnamed student tells the teacher he wants to continue on in Jesus’ traveling classroom but needs some time off to handle his father’s funeral arrangements.
The walls and windows Jesus: “I’m so sorry for your loss, and I totally understand how you must be torn here. Listen, Thomas will give you a schedule of where we’re planning to be over the next two weeks so you can find us and join back in after your family’s affairs have been handled and you’ve had time to comfort your grieving mother. And by the way, I appreciate so much you honoring your father, as Scripture teaches. That hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
The real Jesus: “Follow me now! Let those who are dead care for their own dead” (Living Bible).
In verses 23–27, Jesus and his crew set sail east, across the Sea of Galilee. By mid-course, the captain is asleep; everyone else, however, is awake and wide-eyed as waves from a sudden storm rhythmically break into the boat. Desperately seeking security, they rouse him.
The walls and windows Jesus: “Wow. This is quite the squall. I can’t believe I slept through this. Hold on tight until I can get a handle on the situation. And guys, don’t feel badly for being panicked. It’s a normal human reaction—and more so for the three of you who can’t swim!”
The real Jesus: “Please! What are you so afraid of, you of little faith” (The Voice)?
The last of the four vignettes is found in verses 28–34. Jesus and his followers are now ashore, trekking into territory originally belonging to the tribe of Manasseh, but now inhabited primarily by Gentiles.
Soon they come upon two demon-possessed men who are striking terror into the hearts of the locals, causing them to skirt the crypts these hellions are calling home. But when Jesus shows up, the tables are turned; the beasts from beyond are the ones who are terrified. Jesus honors their request for new hosts: He casts them out of the humans and into a nearby herd of swine. To everyone’s astonishment, pigs fly—over the cliff and into the sea where they all drown!
There certainly is no walls and windows Jesus in this story. The innocent pig farmers lose their livelihood. The animal rights activists (no doubt) pitch a fit. The townsfolk, who apparently prefer peaceful pigs to an impressive prophet, give Jesus and his boys the boot for such socially irresponsible behavior. So, off they trot, back to Nazareth to offend some more Pharisees.
What are we to make of this Jesus whose words and actions regularly tempered the hubris of the sanctimonious and left onlookers aghast? Did Jesus really have an abrasive side—this Jesus who knew that a soft answer could turn away wrath; who sat on a hillside and taught others that words matter, and that if you thoughtlessly used insulting words you could find yourself on the brink of hellfire; who said in the same setting that we should treat others just like we want to be treated?
Yes, I believe he quite often was Jesus off the wall, somewhat sardonic; but let me point out a couple of things. First, he was never cruel or callous, just provocative and penetrating. And if that Jesus makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, you are not alone. There are a lot of folks who favor a kind and gentle guardian over a Lord, mighty in battle. Personally, I think it is because over the course of the last several decades in North America we have increasingly emphasized niceness over frankness, hoping to make Jesus more appealing to unbelievers. But I think such efforts have only caused believers to revere and fear him less.
Second, if you read the red letters, you will see that Jesus did frequently use acerbic words, but they were reserved for those who should have known better—the religious leaders, the teachers of the law, and his disciples. And what he told them was intended to get their attention—to cut through the cords of incredulity and confusion that bound their hearts and minds. Jesus also didn’t hesitate to appropriate his creation (e.g., the pigs, the fig tree, etc.) on occasion to make a powerful point.
But to the poor and powerless and those farthest from the fold, Jesus spoke and demonstrated total grace, mercy, and compassion. I hope you are as frustrated as I am that there are far too many Christians today who don’t make that same differentiation. Comments to and about certain people outside of the faith are just as harsh and condemning as the words they lay on brothers and sisters in Christ who don’t line up with their orthodoxy. I’m sure Jesus has a few choice words he’d like to drop on them.
In your leadership role, never be cruel or callous. Know your various audiences. Speak the truth in love. But don’t hesitate to be firm and forthright when it’s appropriate. And don’t let your Spirit-directed remarks be held for the ransom of an apology that isn’t warranted. It annoys me to no end how someone will employ social media to implore the masses to be outraged enough to shower an opponent with shame and get him or her to cough up a mea culpa. Victory is then declared. If Jesus’ three-year ministry were taking place today, the Twittersphere would be melting down with demands for apologies coming from every sector of society. He would be “crucified” on the Internet long before being crucified on a cross.
In closing, know that it’s okay to be comforted by the calm Jesus depicted in the paintings on the wall in the narthex of your church. But know that you can also seek solace in the Jesus who is off the wall and outside the frame—the one who casts aside niceties, when needed, to make a prodigious point. This is the Jesus who can grab your attention and keep you veracious and ambitious.
I often hear people utter that clichéd question: “What would Jesus do?” My mind immediately goes to a poster I once saw. It suggests that overturning tables and chasing people with a whip is within the realm of possibilities. Perhaps that’s a picture that should be on the wall behind the pulpit in our churches these days.
