Jesus’ Legacy

It is normal and laudable to think ahead to the legacy one might leave for posterity, hopefully a legacy to the good for others. In the case of Jesus, his sights for an enduring legacy must have been very high, high enough to cause much anxiety on account of the heavy resistance he had encountered, not least from his closest disciples. It seems highly likely that he had become conscious of being a messianic figure by the close of his life, made all the more problematic in that the Davidic model didn’t seem to fit the life he had felt led to lead. Given that he had reason to believe that there was no escaping the death close on the horizon, much as he would have wanted to, the model of the Suffering Messiah of Isaiah 52-53 seemed more like what was in store for him. But how could dying at the hands of the religious and political authorities lead to anything after his death? The need to firm up his legacy as best he could reached its climax at what has gone down in history as The Last Supper. On Maundy Thursday, we commemorate the two last things recorded of Jesus before his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane.

The first event is Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. The resistance he encountered from his closest disciple, Peter, could not have been encouraging. Jesus reacted to this resistance with a firm reproof that seems to have done its job, as Peter seems finally to have gotten on board with the notion of being a leader by being a servant. Jesus’ act is easy for anyone to understand provided one’s heart is not so clouded as to find such a humble act of service incomprehensible. The problem is, it is easy to let our hearts cloud over in such matters and it is very difficult to clear up our hearts when they have been so clouded. However, Jesus’ act of washing the disciples’ feet is about a clear a beacon as he could have given to his followers and to us.

Jesus’ second and last act is to host the supper, possibly a Passover meal, but not necessarily. In serving the bread, he says cryptically that it is his body for them, and when serving the wine, he says. just as cryptically, that it is his blood of the new covenant. (1 Cor. 11: 24-25). He then instructed his disciples to eat the bread and drink the wine in his memory. We have been doing this ever since with the conviction that in some mysterious way, Christ continues to give of his substance through the bread and wine. What was Jesus thinking at the time of making these gestures? He didn’t have a theological manual on sacramental theology to help him out and presumably didn’t need such a prop. A deep dependency on his heavenly Abba would have been enough. When I think of the stiff resistance Jesus was experiencing at the time, even from his disciples, I begin to suspect that the bread and wine was something of an escape hatch, an end run around the resistance. In many mysterious ways, eating the bread and drinking the wine not only teaches us more and more over the years what Jesus is all about, but these acts keep Jesus alive within us. It is of profound significance that the two disciples who walked the road to Emmaus recognized the risen Lord in the breaking of the bread.

When Jesus died on the cross, Joseph of Arimathea buried him and put a stone at the opening of tomb. This stone was just to protect the body. For Caiaphas, that was not enough as he did not want to take any chances that the dead man would get away. So he had the stone sealed just to make sure. Three days later, we’ll see how that worked out.

What Kind of Messiah?

After deflecting several questions from the Pharisees, Jesus poses a question of his own:” What about the Messiah? Whose son is he?” (Mt. 22: 42) Predictably they answer: “The Son of David.” That was a standard assumption at the time. Then Jesus quotes the opening verses of Psalm 110 with its Messianic overtones. Since David was believed to be the Psalmist and to be speaking to the Messiah, Jesus asks how David can call his own son “Lord?” The Pharisees can’t answer the question and, typically, Jesus doesn’t answer it either, but lets the question hang. The question has been hanging ever since.

It seems likely that Jesus was questioning the notion of a Davidic messiah who would do what David did—win lots of battles against Israel’s enemies. As Jesus became more and more aware that he was the Messiah, the question became: What kind of a Messiah should he be? If the prevailing notion of a Davidic Messiah was not it his calling, what was his calling?

The question posed to Jesus immediately preceding the dialogue about the Messiah, asking him what the greatest commandment was, and the answer Jesus gave to that question, suggests an alternative understanding of the Messiah that Jesus was beginning to arrive at. It seems that Jesus was beginning to think he was the “Lord” addressed by David. This lead to the question: what kind of Lord should he be? Should he be a Lord whom other people were supposed to love with full heart, soul, and mind? Or was Jesus, as Lord, also to love his Lord, his heavenly Abba, with full heart, soul, and mind? This thought hints at what became known later as a high Christology, that is a Christology that affirms the divinity of Jesus. That Jesus, divine as he himself was, would turn to his heavenly Abba for guidance suggests Jesus was more interested in honoring his heavenly Abba than he was in being an object of adoration. As it turned out, Jesus learned what was at stake in loving his heavenly Abba with full heart, soul, and mind at Gethsemane. Here, Jesus, Lord as he was, was a Messiah who was deeply vulnerable as a human.

The second great commandment that Jesus cited was taken from Leviticus: the love of neighbor as oneself. (Lev. 19: 18) In Leviticus, this commandment, along with several others in the list, is framed by the Lordship of Yahweh. What is most striking about the great commandment in Leviticus is that it is in the context of not seeking revenge or bearing a grudge. The Davidic model, of course, is all about bearing a grudge against Israel’s enemies and seeking revenge against them in battle. In this verse in Leviticus, Jesus was seeing a different model for the Messiah: one who shares his heavenly Abba’s love for all people and in this love, will forswear revenge when he is killed and raised from the dead. Not what the Pharisees seemed to have been looking for.

When Paul came to see that Jesus was the Messiah, did he see a Davidic Messiah? The way he presents himself to the Thessalonians is a resounding No. Far from seeking praise from others, he cared for them as a nursing mother cares for her children. (Thess. 2: 6–8) Moreover, he suffered persecution as they suffered persecution. Sounds like he modeled himself on the way Jesus came to understand his messiahship in terms of following the two great commandments.