News & Messages

Ask a Theologian: Reconciliation

Dear Theologian,

After seeing a movie of the Passion of the Lord, I need to ask: Why did Jesus have to undergo such a horrible ordeal? And what does it mean to say that Jesus suffered and died for our sins?

Disturbed Moviegoer


Dear Moviegoer,

The Mel Gibson film is a graphic and relentless depiction of Jesus' suffering. For those of us who confess him as Lord and Christ, it may well be the occasion to reflect deeply on our own understanding of the Paschal Mystery.

The passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus is the very heart and center of our life of faith. It is what we remember and participate in every time we celebrate the Holy Eucharist. Yet it remains a mystery that we cannot penetrate with our rational mind.

The disciples of Jesus could not at first find any meaning in what happened to him at the end. Only in the light of his resurrection were they able—by searching the Hebrew scriptures—to interpret his suffering and death as something foretold by the prophets, and hence as part of God’s eternal plan of salvation.

This is brought out simply and movingly in the Emmaus story in Luke’s gospel (Lk 24:13-35). In that passage, the Stranger on the road (the risen Lord) says to the two disciples: "How slow of heart [you are] to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" 

"Was it not necessary?" Apparently it was, but how can we begin to understand this? If this terrible fate was, indeed, included in God’s intention of “saving” mankind, how does it relate to our salvation?

In the New Testament as a whole, Christ’s death on the cross is regarded as the focal point of God’s action of "reconciling" sinful humanity to Himself. Paul says,

"… while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son." (Rom 5:10) And again, "God ... reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us." (2 Cor 5:18-19)

Like most, if not all, theological words, "reconciliation" has its literal meaning in the world of ordinary human experience. What does it mean to reconcile, in ordinary usage? It means to bring back into a proper relationship persons or things which have become incompatible. When the word is used theologically, it refers to the mystery of how the estrangement of human beings from God is overcome.

It presupposes the negative state of estrangement or "alienation"––being separated or cut off from that to which one belongs. A vivid image of this is given in the story of the first human beings, after the Fall, hiding from God among the trees. (Gen 3) They were afraid and ashamed, unwilling to interact with the One to whom they belonged.

Christian faith affirms that the alienation of human beings from God has been overcome, in principle, by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. But how are we to understand this? What difference did/does Christ make? What is it about his existence in our world that re-unites us with the God from whom we are alienated?

In the Hebrew scriptures, God repeatedly urges the people of Israel to "turn," that is, turn back toward the God of the covenant. (Isa 31:6, 45:22; Jer 15:19; Ezek 18:32) God also complains about the unsteadiness and stubborn refusal of his people. (Hos 6:4; Jer 5:3) The estrangement that keeps happening is caused by the people’s lack of a consistent response to God’s steady love.

This is important for how we interpret the "reconciling" quality of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. There is no obstacle to reconciliation from God’s side, but only from the side of sinful and alienated human beings. The question then becomes, How does Christ change the human side of the relationship?

Is it only his suffering and death that matter? But his death is unintelligible when isolated from his ministry and teaching. It is surely wrong to think that Jesus came only to suffer and die. It is wrong to think that it was only his torture and violent death—accepted willingly—that redeemed mankind. Surely it was his entire existence as "child" or "servant" of God that mattered.

Christ himself was "turned" utterly "toward God" in his living and finally in his dying. The Passion was the supreme test of Jesus' obedience to the Father. It was the culmination of a life that belonged wholly to God. 

"He emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross." (Phil 2:7-8) "Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered." (Heb 5:8)

Jesus' suffering and death was the outcome of a life lived in utter faithfulness to God. His offer of forgiveness and reconciliation with God was misunderstood and rejected by human beings. This is poignantly expressed in Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem: "How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!" (Lk 13:34)

Why did Christ suffer? We could say that we human beings—represented by some Jewish leaders and the Roman governor at the time—rejected the revelation of God that was presented to us in the person, ministry and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth. If we regard Jesus as the divine Love incarnate, then our human sinfulness rejected that Love and, indeed, crucified it. 

If that were the end of the story, we might not think of reconciliation between human beings and God. But the Cross is not the final word. The Resurrection of Jesus is the triumphant re-affirmation of divine Love, despite the worst that human beings can do.

This is suffering Love, which overcomes evil with good. It is finally victorious by “absorbing” all the malice of human beings and repaying it with infinite mercy. The first word that the risen Lord speaks to the disciples who had abandoned him is "Shalom! Peace!" (Jn 20:19) This is the word which he continues to speak to each of us, whenever we turn again toward him.

In Christ,
The Theologian

The Rev. Dr. Wayne L. Fehr wrote a column for a previous version of the diocesan newsletter called Ask a Theologian. He answered questions from ordinary Christians trying to make sense of their faith. Now he's back with a monthly column once again. You can find and purchase his book on Tracing the Contours of Faith: Christian Theology for Questioners here.

Ask a Theologian: Baptism of Jesus

Dear Theologian,

Why was Jesus baptized? Didn’t John’s baptism signify repentance for sins? Yet we say that Jesus was sinless. So what could baptism by John mean for Jesus?

Interested

Dear Interested,

The story of Jesus’ baptism by John derives from an actual historical event, scholars argue, precisely because the tradition was preserved even though it was awkward for Christian believers to deal with. Jesus’ submission to John’s baptism did not seem fitting, somehow. In Matthew’s version, the Baptist first objects that he should be baptized by Jesus, not Jesus by him. And in Luke, the story of Jesus’ baptism does not actually name John as the agent.

In the gospel accounts, there is no indication that Jesus is expressing repentance for his own sins when he goes down under the water. But one might think that he is entering into the larger meaning of John’s baptism: openness to the coming of the Kingdom of God. And some have interpreted his action as an expression of his solidarity with sinful mankind.

Although the gospel tradition provides no clarity about why Jesus submitted to the baptism or what this could have meant to him, it leaves no doubt about the meaning of Jesus’ revelatory experience when he comes up out of the water. This is the culminating event, as presented in all three synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke). It expresses powerfully the unique relationship of Jesus to God.

Jesus sees the heavens “opened” and the Holy Spirit descending upon him in the form of a dove. And he hears the voice of God: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Mk 1:10-11; Mt 3:16-17; Lk 3:21-22)

 It is somewhat unclear whether it is only Jesus that experiences the vision and hears the voice of God, or whether others also see and hear. Luke’s version adds the detail that, after his baptism, Jesus was praying. This seems to indicate that the experience was unique to him.

In all three accounts, the baptismal experience precedes any public ministry of Jesus. It is a moment of God-given certainty about his identity as “Son” and as “Beloved,” and therefore also a decisive moment of awareness of his unique vocation and task.

What follows upon this experience is the irresistible impulse to go away into solitude, to be alone with God and with this new self-knowledge.

The time in the wilderness is, then, a period of struggling to interpret rightly the revelation of his unique status and call. He is tempted to false understandings of it, but resolutely chooses the stance of humility and utter obedience to God. Only then is he ready to begin his public ministry, in the course of which he will speak with authority and certainty the message of the Kingdom of God, and will give dramatic signs of the coming of that Kingdom in his exorcisms and healings.

Rightly understood, the story of Jesus’ baptism and the revelation which followed upon it is full of meaning for Christian believers. It may be regarded as one of the “mysteries” of Christ’s life (events with an infinite dimension of depth, to be entered into only through meditation and prayer). It is the mystery of his relationship to God as Father and his profound experience of being “Son.”

This is a mystery in which we somehow share. Upon each of us, too, the Holy Spirit descends with transforming power. To each of us, too, God says, “You are my son / my daughter; with you I am well pleased.”

St. Paul bears witness to this sharing of Christians in the “sonship” of Jesus:

“When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons [and daughters]. And because you are sons [and daughters], God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying ‘Abba! Father!’” (Gal 4:4-6)

“All who are led by the Spirit of God are sons [and daughters] of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption by which we cry ‘Abba! Father!’” (Rom 8:14-15)

We enter into our inheritance as sons and daughters of God when we are baptized into Jesus and accept him as our Savior and Lord. As his adopted brothers and sisters, we are able to relate to the unimaginable Mystery of God with utter trust and confidence.

“...in Christ Jesus our Lord ... we have access to God in boldness and confidence through faith in him.” (Eph 3:12) In the Eucharistic liturgy, the presider says, “as our Savior Christ has taught us, we are bold to say, ‘Our Father.”[1]

There is another perspective on Jesus’ baptism which is also basic to our Christian identity as sharing in his mystery. One might view his going down into the water as his submission to the Father’s will and his dedication to the unique vocation he was given. Ultimately, of course, that would involve his being rejected, undergoing great suffering, and dying a shameful death.

He himself uses the metaphor of baptism to refer to the ordeal which lies before him. “I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed!” (Lk 12:50)

Our own sacramental baptism signifies our identification with Christ in the Paschal Mystery of his death and resurrection (Rom 6:3-11). This means that we, like Jesus, dedicate ourselves to the vocation God gives us and that we, like him, submit humbly to the will of the Father for our lives. In a way, our baptism signifies our taking upon ourselves our own unique sharing in the mystery of God’s redeeming love for the world.

What Jesus says to James and John, he also says to each of us who have been given a share in the meaning of his baptism: “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized.” (Mk 10:39) Knowing what this implies, we might be afraid, but we trust utterly in the Father, as Jesus did. “If we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” (Rom 6:5)

Faithfully,

The Theologian 

The Rev. Dr. Wayne L. Fehr wrote a column for a previous version of the diocesan newsletter called Ask a Theologian. He answered questions from ordinary Christians trying to make sense of their faith. Now he's back with a monthly column once again. You can find and purchase his book on Tracing the Contours of Faith: Christian Theology for Questioners here.

[1] BCP, p. 363, emphasis added.

Ask a Theologian: Christmas

Dear Theologian,

I will be getting again a lot of greeting cards that say “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings.” What happened to “Merry Christmas”? As a matter of fact, why do we still call this holiday season “Christmas”? What does it have to do with Christ?

Old-fashioned Christian

Dear Christian,

The familiar word “Christmas” comes down to us from an earlier age, when people lived by the liturgical calendar and every great feast was observed by attending Mass (the Holy Eucharist). Certain days of the year were designated by “whose” Mass was being celebrated. In such a world of faith, the day of Christ’s nativity was naturally called “Christ-Mass” (Old English Cristes maesse).

But why do we still use such an explicitly Christian word to designate our secularized winter holiday season? Has the word perhaps lost its original meaning? Does our present-day “Christmas” actually still have anything to do with Christ?

It’s a question worth asking, as we experience each year the relentless pressure of Christmas shopping and listen endlessly to Christmas music from Thanksgiving Day until December 25.

Let’s begin with some history. In the earliest period of Christianity, there was no firm tradition about the date of Jesus’ birth. It was only in the fourth century that the Church began to celebrate the birth of Christ in late December, perhaps in order to counteract the license and debauchery of the pagan festival of Saturnalia, held at the time of the winter solstice (the shortest day of the year). Some have also speculated that the date of December 25 was chosen as a Christian rival to the pagan festival of “the unconquered sun” (sol invictus) celebrated on that date.

When missionaries later brought the good news of Christ to the Germanic tribes, they had to adapt the Church’s life to a culture very different from the Greco-Roman world in which Christianity had begun.

People in the northern lands traditionally responded to the change of season by celebrating a kind of “winter festival.” Evergreens and mistletoe brought life and color into their homes, and a blazing fire (the Yule log) kept away the darkness and bitter cold. It was a time when people gathered to eat and drink, sing and dance, exchange gifts and experience the joy and security of being together. Hence the December celebration of Christ’s birth gradually became interwoven with the old Germanic customs, and the folklore of Christmas as we know it began to develop.

Keeping this in mind, we might be able to appreciate better the kind of Christmas celebration that has gradually taken shape here in the United States. In colonial days the observance of Christmas was often raucous and disorderly, marked by carousing and drunkenness. The Puritans wanted to ban it altogether. In the nineteenth century, an effort was made to calm things down by introducing the custom of exchanging cards and gifts and celebrating the warmth and closeness of the family. Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol was influential.

Later in the nineteenth century, the myth of Santa Claus and his reindeer became prominent through the influence of a poem, “‘Twas the Night before Christmas,” and a series of vivid illustrations in magazines. Few Americans today are aware of how recently these now omnipresent themes were introduced.

What has resulted is a peculiar mixture of a more or less secular “winter festival” with images of the baby Jesus (with accompanying angels, shepherds, Joseph and Mary, and the wise men from the East). Some of the special music is devoutly Christian, with beloved carols dating from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. But much of it simply expresses the various aspects of the winter festival, which now includes the Santa Claus myth.

How is all this to be regarded from the viewpoint of Christian faith? How can some of us still find Christ in the American “Christmas”?

Despite the commercialism and materialism, there are some positive values in our December festival, even when Christian faith is totally absent from it.

People decorate their homes with outdoor lights and set up richly decorated evergreen trees in their living rooms. It’s a time to prepare for the gathering of families – by sending greeting cards, buying gifts, laying in a good supply of holiday food and drink, making travel arrangements. “Home for the holidays!” It’s a time of special delight for the children in our homes. The tree, the toys, the colored lights, the music, the special food, and the excitement all combine to create a feeling of the magical.

This ”winter festival” could be viewed as our human spirit’s response to the challenge of cold and darkness. It could be seen as an affirmation of life and warmth and joy, despite the harsh conditions, as people gather out of separate, busy lives in order to be together in a festive spirit, to eat and drink, exchange gifts, and feel the warmth of family.

None of this need be denied or minimized when we add the dimension of Christian faith. For Christ elevates and transforms human nature without destroying it. If we confess Jesus to be the Lord of all things, there is a magnificent depth of meaning to the winter festival, and a reason for joy in the midst of the darkness of human suffering and sin. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (Jn 1:5)

Our human effort to affirm life against the forces of death, to create a warm, cheerful, well-lighted place against the cold and darkness, to celebrate the bonds of family and friendship despite our conflicts and wounds — all this is now undergirded and validated and filled with transcendent power by the everlasting Love which has taken on an earthly, human presence.

In Christ, and because of Him, our celebration of the winter festival can become radiant with the light of God. And our sound human impulses to be of good cheer and to be good to one another are affirmed and empowered by the Grace that has manifested itself in our midst.

 Merry Christmas!

 The Theologian

The Rev. Dr. Wayne L. Fehr wrote a column for a previous version of the diocesan newsletter called Ask a Theologian. He answered questions from ordinary Christians trying to make sense of their faith. Now he's back with a monthly column once again. You can find and purchase his book on Tracing the Contours of Faith: Christian Theology for Questioners here.