LET JESUS SURPRISE US

Many years ago an author named Stephen Prothero wrote a book titled,
American Jesus: How the Son of God Became a National Icon. Prothero is a
professor of religion at Boston University, and the book is alternately scholarly,
whimsical, and even funny. It attempts to render a history of how our
imagination of who and what Jesus exactly is has varied widely over the course of
time in the United States. The titles of each of the chapters offer great examples:

Enlightened Sage (Thomas Jefferson et al.) 18 th Century
Sweet Savior (“What a Friend We have in Jesus”) 19 th Century
Manly Redeemer (To combat a Jesus who was seen to have become too
feminized) Early 20 th Century
Superstar (Presenting Jesus as the revolutionary counter-cultural hero during the
1960’s and 70’s)

The book includes a number of pages of representative pop art from various
times in history which depict Jesus either as a moony-eyed monk or as a
screaming prophet or as a laughing best buddy or as an outlaw. I recognized the
outlaw one because it was a poster that I remember putting up on the wall over
my bed when I was about 14 years old. It read, “Wanted: Jesus Christ, Alias the
Messiah, Son of God, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Prince of Peace, etc.” And there
was a sketch on that poster of this Jesus, who looked most similar to Charles
Manson. Very macho indeed.

The point of the book—and my point here—is that we very easily can pass over
what Sacred Scripture actually tells us about who Jesus is and instead impose our
own imagination about who we think he ought to be. And we’ve been doing it
from the start. It is also to point out that the gospels themselves don’t give us
exactly one clear picture of Jesus’ personality or philosophy.

Sometimes, e.g. the gospels tell us that he’s the consummate Jewish rabbi. Other
times he doesn’t seem very kindly disposed toward Jewish leaders. Sometimes
he’s depicted as patient and forgiving; other times as angry and judging.
Sometimes he welcomes the pagans; other times he tries to send them away.
Today in the gospel we are presented with Jesus the home-wrecker, who
endorses the pitting of parents against children and in-laws against one another.
But in another place, in another gospel, his farewell wish is for peace among his
friends. That’s part of his final prayer at the Last Supper. Getting to know and
follow Jesus is more difficult and demanding work than it may first seem.
And what that can teach us is that our responsibility as disciples depends a lot on
the circumstances in which we find ourselves. Jesus spoke of peace when people
were in doubt or at war. But he spoke of conflict when there was too much
complacency that masked itself as a phony kind of peace. He spoke of the needs
of the poor when he was among the wealthy. But he promised riches when he
was speaking to the poor. He was faithful in worship and public prayer, but he
was quick to call out the hypocrisy in those who used worship as a cover up for an
evil heart.

He wasn’t a man of contradiction or of schizophrenia. He was merely the man
who recognized that the gospel calls out many different kinds of necessary
responses from many kinds of people—like us.

Some of us are relatively wealthy. Jesus requires something of us that is different
from those who are not. Some of us are relatively healthy. The same
requirement holds true. Some of us are grieving. Our gospel obligation is not the
same one as for those who are now rejoicing. Some of us are young. Some are
not. Jesus’ requirements of us are not just the same.

And in our broader culture and nation, the same holds true. When we are at war,
this gospel and this Savior cry out for peace. When there is injustice, this gospel
and this Savior cry out for repentance and change. When there is racism and
intolerance, this gospel and this Savior cry out for resistance and prophesy.

And when there is a too-comfortable coexistence with sin, we are required to call
that out. The Prophet Jeremiah did it in ancient Israel, and got thrown in the
muddy cistern for it. People and nations don’t like to be exposed for their bad
behavior, and there will be consequences for those who do that. For Jeremiah it
was that well. For Jesus it was the cross. The one thing that the real Jesus is not
is the automatic endorser of whatever we prefer, or the man who can be
imagined to impart his blessing on things just as they are—no matter how they
are.

In today’s gospel Jesus speaks of that apparently dysfunctional family in which
there was not fire as the result of God’s word having been encountered. It seems
that this was a family in which there was merely the appearance of tranquility
because nobody cared to take Jesus seriously or to act as if God’s summons
actually mattered. To such as these, Jesus announces, I have come to divide, to
provoke and to demand an account. Where there’s no fire there is merely the
veneer of superficial religion, and Jesus will show himself as a more harsh prophet
and judge of all that.

So what kind of face do we imagine Jesus to have today, amid everything that is
going on in our world, our country, our homes? It’s not a face that is quietly
nodding and smiling with sweet approval. Jesus did not come to make peace with
all that. No, he came with purifying fire—a fire that will cause conflict if we truly
catch it and act on it.

Each weekend we are offered free fire from this book and this table. May we be
open to recognizing the true Jesus in our own time and place, and to respond to
him with fervent hearts and prophetic lives.