Jesus

In the 2024 Doctor Who Christmas Special, Joy to the World, Ncuti Gatwa’s doctor arrives at a Time Hotel. Instead of bedrooms, each door leads a guest to a destination in history. The Assassination of Julius Ceasar. And the birth of Jesus. “No wonder there was no room at the inn,” quips the doctor.

Four hundred or so years after the prophecy of Malachi, Judea heard the voice of Elijah.

John the Baptist began preaching in the wilderness of Judea: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” …

Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount of Olives (Matthew 5-8) is possibly the single most important speech in history. In terms of epigrams alone, it rivals the Shakespearean corpus: the exhortations to be “the salt of the earth”, to “go the extra mile”, to “turn the other cheek”, to “love your neighbour”, to “lay up treasures in heaven”, “to take the log out of your own eye”, “to do unto others as you would have them do unto you” all come from this sermon, in which Jesus tells us that “no man can serve two masters” and that “wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction … but small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”

What is it to pray?

Matthew records Jesus telling his disciples how to pray. He doesn’t instruct them to pray; it is taken for granted that they do. He warns them against praying for show.

And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites … or your Father knows what you need before you ask him. This, then, is how you should pray:
  Our Father in heaven,
  hallowed be your name,
  your kingdom come,
  your will be done,
    on earth as it is in heaven.
  Give us today our daily bread.
  And forgive us our debts,
    as we also have forgiven our debtors.
  And lead us not into temptation
    but deliver us from the evil one.

Jesus also acknowledges that prayer is, in a sense, unneccessary: “your Father knows what you need”. The prayer itself declares its own redundancy: “Your will be done.” So why pray?

At heart, the Lord’s Prayer expresses our dependence on God. We ask for our daily bread; our Manna. The Israelites were not to collect more than a day’s bread, except when preparing for the Sabbath. They had been rescued by God from Egypt, and needed to learn that they remained dependent on him. On the Lord who’s holiness justifies his sovereignty over us, and whose grace we need in order to live the Christian life.

Saying the Lord’s prayer achieves many things, but one thing it does is reinforce our commitment to God, and thus strengthen our faith in him. Why say vows in a wedding service? Because the act of saying is, in itself, an act of commitment.

But more than that, prayer is our part of a dialogue with God. Talking to someone changes your relationship with them. Talking to God expresses and forms how you relate to Him.

Many of the world’s humanitarian organisations have Christian roots. The Red Cross was founded by the Swiss Protestant, Henry Dunant, after he witnessed the aftermath of the 1859 Battle of Solferino. The Salvation Army is an overtly Christian organisation (though the “Militant Wing” is sadly fictional) with Methodist roots. The YMCA grew out of Bible and prayer meetings. Habitat For Humanity benefitted from the Baptist Jimmy Carter’s remarkable post-presidency. The Samaritans were founded by a London Church of England vicar after taking a funeral for a girl who had committed suicide.

The Samaritans of course take their name from Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. The parable was given as an answer to the question, “Who is my neighbour?”

The reason for the question was to contextualise, and therefore limit, the obligations imposed by the the Law, as summarised in Deut 6:4-5 and Lev 19:18:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.”

This is the human impulse. We’re happy to love others; we just want to choose who those others are.

So Jesus narrates a man left for dead on the Jericho Road. Two “good” Jews, a priest and a Levite, both have more important things on their mind. A Samaritan–a member of the tribe hated at that time by the Judeans (and, ironically, Judea’s literal neighbour)–takes pity.

“He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man?” (Luke 10:34-36)

The neighbour is thus any person you come across who needs help. Jesus will later say of those who enter the kingdom of heaven:

Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. (Matt 25:34-36)

And Jesus would of course take pity–have mercy–on all of us, even though our wounds are, fundamentally caused by our rebellion against him.

Most Christians at some point do start to wonder if they’re the real deal. What God asks of us is so far-reaching, so all-encompassing, that when we come up short, we start to ask ourselves, “Am I an imposter … am I even a Christian after all?” (Gary Millar)

How do you answer this? On the one hand, the Bible affirms that the Christian is someone who has repented and believed in Christ. Nothing else is asked. Paul chastises those who demand works for salvation: “You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ” (Galatians 5:3).

And yet James will say, “faith without works is dead.” (James 2:20). Paul, having chastised those who try to add works to faith for justification, will add:

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself. (Gal 5:13-14)

And Jesus himself says “whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:27)

The expression, “we all have our cross to bear”, is generally used in a somewhat self-pitying fashion, but this is clearly not Jesus’ intention. “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matt 11:29-30)

This seems inherently confusing, but it turns out we are poor judges of what is easy and what is hard; of what is deeply satisfying and what is not. We devote our lives to acquiring houses, success and status, despite all evidence–both empirical and experiental–that none of those things bring enduring satisfaction.

Conversely, those who give their lives in service of others regularly speak of deep joy in doing so. Not everyone–service given out of a sense of duty can quickly tire. But a cross taken up in love is no heavy thing. Ask anyone who is in love. The Christian is one who is in love with Jesus–who was raised on his cross–and who is fed through the Spirit by Jesus’ love for them.

Thus, Paul can describe the Christian as one who is “self-controlled, upright and godly”, “eager to do what is good” (Titus 2:11-14), and conclude on salvation by grace:

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. … Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. (Gal 5:13-26)

The heart of the Christian life is seeing the heart of Jesus, which is a sacrifical love for his children. And we naturally imitate those we love and admire.

Jesus’ preaching substantially concerned the Kingdom of Heaven, or the Kingdom of God (Matthew uses the former term, the other gospel writers prefer the latter). Matthew 4 describes the beginning of Jesus’ ministry thusly: “From that time on Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” (Matthew 4:17) Later on, Jesus leaves people who come to him looking for healing, because ““I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns as well; for I was sent for this purpose.” (Luke 4:43) Luke describes Jesus travelling “from one town and village to another, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God” (Luke 8:1)

Much of Jesus’ teaching came in the form of parables. These had the power of appealing to his audience on a visceral level, while concealing his message from the “wise”.

Jesus demonstrated his authority, and the nature of the kingdom of heaven with miracles. John suggests that “If every one of them were written down … even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written” (John 21:25) He healed blindness, sickness, paralysis, leprosy, and in one case, death. (By contrast, modern faith healers tend to limit themselves to shortening legs by an inch or so.)

Judas, one of the Twelve, arrived. With him was a large crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests and the elders of the people. Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: “The one I kiss is the man; arrest him.” Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him. Jesus replied, “Do what you came for, friend.” Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. (Matthew 26:47-50)

The Cross of Christ is central to Christianity. It is its focal point, the lens through which the Bible is read; not only the New Testament but also the Old. Prophecies made hundreds of years before Christ find their fulfilment in him. The legal system of the Israelites finds its completion in him. So do the promised made. The majestic figures of the Old Testament are revealed to be more forerunners of him.

Christ is, in a real sense, central to history. While we might try remove explicit references to him, our system of years still finds its mid-point in the birth of Christ. Christ was the agent of creation, and his second coming will represent the end of history as we know it.

And yet the dramatic climax of history took place in Jerusalem, a city important to Judea, but not to anyone else. It involved no fireworks; when it happened, the people involved fled into the night. Many witnessed it, but at the time few, if any, understood it. The closest was a Roman centurion, recorded as saying: “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (Mark 15:39)

And understandably so. A man being take outside the city gates to be hung, cursed, on a tree, hardly matched the expectations of a nation waiting for its Messiah. The Messiah was supposed to be triumphant. Later, rabbis would wonder if Simon bar Khokhba, who led a short-lived but spectacular rebellion against the Romans, was the Messiah. But this rebellion obviously failed.

And a close reading revealed many prophecies that only made sense as pointing to Christ. The most immediate prophecy comes from Isaiah 53:

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
  he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
  and by his wounds we are healed.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
  each of us has turned to our own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
  the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:5-6)

And such prophecies were there from the start. After Adam and Eve were cursed, the Lord pointed to a moral Messiah when He said to the serpent:

[Eve’s offspring] will crush your head, and you will strike his heel. (Gen 3:15)

On the cross, Jesus would quote the beginning of Psalm 22:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Ps 22:1)

That same Psalm ends:

Posterity will serve him;
  future generations will be told about the Lord.
They will proclaim his righteousness,
  declaring to a people yet unborn:
    He has done it! (Ps 22:30-31)

And essentially this is what was fulfilled by the writers of the New Testament: they proclaimed to the likes of us that Christ’s sacrifice has won the battle of righteousness.

“Doubting Thomas” is used mostly in a negative sense to refer to a skeptic.

Now Thomas … was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”
Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Was Jesus rebuking Thomas? Thomas would have seen Jesus perform many miracles by this point. Surely he could have trusted the other disciples.

Nevertheless, Jesus offers Thomas the confirmation he seeks. The Bible records many instances of doubt being assuaged. Gideon was shown the proof he requested of God’s instruction. Abraham was regarded as faithful despite his requests for confirmation:

[The Lord] took him outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness.
He also said to him, “I am the Lord, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to take possession of it.”
But Abram said, “Sovereign Lord, how can I know that I will gain possession of it?”

So the Lord made a covenant with Abraham, and the New Testament writers would simply note “What does Scripture say? ‘Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.’” (Romans 4:3)

Faith is not so much the absence of doubt, as the willingness to believe, and act on that belief. What Thomas subsequently did is not recorded in the Bible; tradition has it that he took the gospel to India.

What became of Abraham is better known:

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. And by faith even Sarah, who was past childbearing age, was enabled to bear children because she considered him faithful who had made the promise. And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore. (Heb 11:8-13)

As for us, we are those who must believe without having seen. And yet we are not without good reason.

After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. (Acts 1:3)

That his disciples sincerely believed in Jesus’ resurrection is surely one of the strongest arguments for its historicity. It is hard to deny the existence of Christianity, and the persecution of early believers is well-documented. What could cause a group of people to spread such an outlandish message, in the face of such opposition, to the extent that it could spread to, eventually, every country in the world?