JESUS STORY (CONTINUED)
SEARCH FOR THE REAL
PARENTS OF MY SOUL
JESUS, CONSUMMATE
CHARISMATIC LEADER AND ACTOR EXTRAORDINARY!
James
R. Fisher, Jr., Ph.D.
©
January 20, 2015
NOTE:
This is yet another excerpt of the Jesus story.
EXPEDIENT
LEADERSHIP
Researcher Randall Collins (Internet) claims that
Jesus is one of the best described charismatic leaders in history with some
ninety face-to-face encounters in the four gospels of the New Testament. He is also a consummate actor.
We find Jesus sitting on the ground, teaching to a
crowd in the outer courtyard of the temple at Jerusalem. The Pharisees,
righteous upholders of traditional ritual and law, haul before him a woman
taken in adultery. They make her stand in front of the crowd and say to Jesus:
“Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. The Law commands us to
stone her to death. What do you say?”
The text goes on that Jesus does not look up at
them, but continues to write in the dirt with his finger. This would not be
unusual; Archimedes wrote geometric figures in the dust, and in the absence of
ready writing materials the ground would serve as a chalkboard. The point is
that Jesus does not reply right away; he lets them stew in their uneasiness.
Finally he looks up and says: “Let whoever is
without sin cast the first stone.” And he looks down and continues writing in
the dust. Minutes go by. One by one, the
crowd starts to slip away, the older ones first-- the young hotheads being the
ones who do the stoning, as in the most primitive parts of the Middle East
today.
Finally Jesus is left with the woman standing before
him. He straightens up from writing in the dirt and asks her, “Woman, where are
they? Has no one condemned you?” She
answers: “No one.” “Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus says. “Go now and sin
no more” (John 8: 1-11).
Jesus is a master of timing. He does not allow
people to force him into their rhythm, their definition of the situation. He
perceives what they are attempting to do, the intention beyond the words. And
he makes them shift their ground.
Hence the two periods of tension-filled silence;
first when he will not directly answer; second when he looks down again at his
writing after telling them who should cast the first stone.
Jesus does not allow the encounter to focus on
himself against the Pharisees. He knows they are testing him, trying to make
him say something in violation of the law; or else back down in front of his
followers. Instead Jesus throws it back on their own consciences, their inner
reflections about the woman they are going to kill. He individualizes the
crowd, fragmenting the mass into singularity, making them drift off one by one,
breaking up the mob mentality with a simple explanation.
Jesus is an actor who has perfected timing to the
quintessential moment as actors are trained to do. He is the charismatic leader, indeed the
archetype of charisma. Although sociologists
tend to treat charisma as an abstraction, it is observable in everyday life. We
are viewing the elements of it in the encounters of Jesus with the people
around him (Read Doris Kearns Goodwin’s “Team of Rivals” (2005) and you see how
Abraham Lincoln used Jesus’ template for dealing with his own presidential cabinet).
Micro-sociologist Collins focuses on encounters that
are realistic and that do not rely on miracles. Since miracles made Jesus
famous, and caused controversies from the outset, miracles are germane to the
Jesus story.
Notice that Jesus always wins these divisive
encounters in the gospels for he is quick and decisive; always does something
unexpected; knows what the other is intending;
masters the crowd; demonstrates victory through suffering, and converts
through altruism.
When Jesus was teaching in the temple courts, the
chief priests and elders came to him. “By what authority are you doing these
things?” they asked. “And who gave you this authority?”
Jesus replied: “I will also ask you a question. If
you answer me, I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things. John’s baptism of me, where did it come from?
Was it from heaven, or of human origin?”
They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we
say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, Then why don’t you believe him?’ But if we
say, ‘Of human origin,’ the people will stone us, because they are persuaded
that John was a prophet.”
So they answered, “We don’t know where it was
from.” Jesus said, “Neither will I tell
you by what authority I am doing these things” (Matthew 21: 23-27; Luke 20:
1-8).
On another occasion, Jesus proceeded to tell the
crowd a parable comparing two sons who were true or false to their father.
Jesus holds the floor, and his enemies did not dare to have him arrested for
they knew the parable was about them.
This is further evidence that he never let anyone
determine the conversational sequence, controlling the flow by answering
questions with questions, putting the interlocutor on the defensive.
Early in his career of preaching around Galilee, he
was invited to dinner at the home of a Pharisee. A prostitute comes in and
falls at his feet, wets his feet with her tears, kisses them and pours perfume
on them. The Pharisee says to himself, ‘If this man is a prophet, he would know
what kind of woman is touching him. That
she is a sinner.’
Jesus, reading the man’s thoughts, says, “I have
something to tell you.”
“Tell me,” the Pharisee demands.
Jesus proceeds to tell a story about two men who
owed money, neither of whom could repay the moneylender. He forgives them both,
the one who owes 500 and the one who owes 50. Jesus asks, “Which of the two
will love him more?”
“The one who has the bigger debt forgiven,” the
Pharisee replies. “You are correct,” Jesus says. “Do you see this woman? You
did not give me water for my feet, but this woman wet them with her tears and
dried them with her hair. Therefore her
many sins have been forgiven, as her great love has shown.”
The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who
is this man who even forgives sins?”
Jesus turned and said to the woman, “Your faith has
saved you; go in peace.” (Luke 7: 36-50)
Notice that Jesus always gets the last word. Not
just that he is good at repartee, topping everyone else. He doesn’t play verbal games, but converses
on the most serious level. What it means to win the argument is evident to all,
for audience and interlocutor are astounded.
They cannot say another word.
When confronted, Jesus always takes control of the
conversational rhythm. This is no minor thing.
It is in the rhythms of conversation that manifests either
solidarity, alienation or anger. Conversations with Jesus invariably end in full
stop with wordless submission.
His debate with the Sadducees ends when no one dared
ask him any more questions (Luke 20: 40).
When a teacher of the Law asks him which is the most important
commandment, Jesus answers, to love God with all your heart, and to love your
neighbor as yourself (Mark 12: 28-34).
Most of the challenges to Jesus’ consummate charisma
happen during his showdown period in Jerusalem.
The precedence is established early when Jesus
visits his hometown of Nazareth and preaches in the synagogue. He amazes the
crowd with his wisdom and audacity, but then the people start to ask questions
among themselves, ‘Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Aren’t his mother and
brothers and sisters common among us? Where did he get these powers he is
displaying here and has been doing so in neighboring towns? How can this be?’
When Jesus reads the scroll and says, “Today the
scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”
They take umbrage at such sacrilegious impudence, and begin to
argue. Jesus responds, “No prophet is
honored in his home town,” and quotes examples of the venerated prophets who
were rejected.
The people in the synagogue are furious. They take him to the edge of town and try to
throw him off the peak of a cliff.
“But he walked right through the crowd and went his
way” (Luke 4: 14-30; Matthew 13: 53-58).
Even here, Jesus uses the histrionics of the consummate charismatic
actor to penetrate the ambivalence of the hostile crowd, traumatized to
inaction when he shows no palpable fear of them thus giving confidence to his
narrative.
Another personal challenge comes when he performs
one of his most famous miracles, bringing back Lazarus from the dead. Jesus'
relationship with Lazarus is an especially close one. Lazarus is the brother of the two sisters,
Mary and Martha, whose house Jesus liked to stay in, while Lazarus is referred
to as "the one Jesus loves."
Jesus had been staying at their home a few miles
outside Jerusalem, a safe haven at the time when his conflict with the high
priests at the temple was escalating. When the message came that Lazarus was
sick, Jesus was traveling away from his troubles in Jerusalem where the crowd
had tried to stone him. Even so, he
decided to go back.
Yet he delayed two days before returning apparently
waiting until Lazarus had died, and he could perform the miracle of
resurrecting him. First he says to his disciples, "Our friend Lazarus has
fallen asleep, but I am going to wake him up."
When this figure of speech is taken literally, he
tells them plainly, "Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was
not there, so that you may believe."
When he arrives back in Bethany, Lazarus had been
dead for four days. A crowd had come to
comfort the sisters. No doubt their house was strongly identified with the
Jesus movement. Thus there was a big
crowd present when Jesus performed his healing miracle. The dramatic was always very important to
Jesus.
The two sisters separately come to meet Jesus, and
each says, "If you had been here, my brother would not have died."
After Mary, the second sister, says this, Jesus sees her weeping and the crowd
weeping with her. He is deeply moved.
(The King James translation says, "Groaning in himself.") "Where
have you laid him?" Jesus says. "Come and see," Mary answers.
Then Jesus wept.
They come to the tomb; Jesus has them roll away the
stone from the entrance. Again deeply moved, Jesus calls out in a loud voice,
"Lazarus, come out!" For some
time afterwards, people come to Bethany to see Lazarus, the man who had been
raised from the dead. (John 11: 1-46)
Leaving aside the miracle itself and its symbolism,
one thing we see in this episode is Jesus conflicted between his mission-- to
demonstrate the power of resurrection-- and his personal feelings for Lazarus
and his sisters.
Jesus let Lazarus die, by staying away during his
sickness, in order to make this demonstration, but in doing so he caused grief
to those he loved. The moment when he confronts their pain (amplified by the
weeping of the crowd), Jesus himself weeps. It is the only time in the texts
when he weeps. It is a glimpse of himself as a human being, as well as a man on
a mission.
Jesus’ next moment of human weakness comes in the
garden at Gethsemane. “Being in anguish,
he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the
ground.” Though he left his disciples nearby with instructions to “pray that
you will not fall into temptation,” they all fell asleep, exhausted from
sorrow. Jesus complains to Peter, “Couldn’t you keep watch with me for one
hour?” But he adds, “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” But their
eyes were heavy, and they did not know what to say to him. (Luke 22: 39-46;
Mark 14: 32-42; Matthew 26: 36-46) This is a most human moment when everyone’s
emotional energy was down.
Particularly personal is the passage when Jesus on
the cross sees his mother standing below, “and the disciple whom he loved
standing nearby. Jesus said to her: ‘Woman, here is your son,' and to the
disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ From that time on, the disciple took her into
his house.” (John 19: 25-27)
What is so telling about this is the contrast to an
event during Jesus’ early preaching in Galilee, when his mother and siblings
try to make their way to him through a crowd of followers. Someone announces,
“Your mother and your brothers are outside waiting to see you.” Jesus looks at
those seated in a circle around him and says: “Here are my mother and my
brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother” (Luke 8:
19-21; Mark 3: 31-35). But on the cross
he is not only thinking of fulfilling scripture, but of his own lifetime
relationships.
Pierced by pain, he cries out, “My God, my God, why
have you forsaken me? And with a loud
cry, Jesus breathed his last” (Mark 15: 21-41; Matthew 27: 30-55). Ancient myths of dying and annually
resurrecting nature-gods are not described like this, that is, not so
humanly. Nor are the heroic deaths of
Plutarch’s noble Greeks and Romans given a human persona.
Other than in the anxious hours of waiting at
Gethsemane, and the torture of the crucifixion, Jesus confronting his accusers
is in form on message.
When the high priests and temple guards approach to
arrest him, Jesus calmly asks who they want. “Jesus of Nazareth,” they reply.
When he says, “I am he,” they shrink back. Jesus takes the initiative: “If you
are looking for me, let these men go.” When they seize Jesus, one of his
followers draws a sword and cuts off the ear of a priest’s servant. “Put away
your sword!” Jesus says to him, “for all who live by the sword will die by the
sword.”
To the hostile crowd, he says, “Am I leading a
rebellion that you have come with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I
sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not dare to arrest me. But this
is your hour.” (Matthew 26: 47-56; Luke 22: 47-55; John 18: 1-12)
Then all his disciples deserted him and fled. Peter,
the boldest of them, followed at a distance to the outer courtyards when Jesus
was being interrogated within. But Peter
too is intimidated when servants question whether he is one of Jesus’
followers. Peter denying Jesus shows how Jesus’ own crowd has been dispersed,
broken up and unable to assemble, and in the face of a hostile crowd lose their
faith.
Strength is in the crowd, and now the opposing crowd
holds the attention of the place and space.
But indoors, in a smaller setting of rival authorities,
Jesus holds his own. Before the assembly of the high priests, Jesus once again
wins the verbal sparring, if not the verdict. Many hostile witnesses testify,
but their statements do not agree. The priests try to get Jesus to implicate
himself, but he keeps a long silence, and then says: “I said nothing secret.
Why question me? Ask those who heard me.”
When Jesus said this, an official slapped him in the
face. “Is this the way you answer the high priest?” Jesus replied, “If what I
said is wrong, testify as to what is wrong. If I spoke the truth, why do you
strike me?” The chief priest asks him bluntly: “Tell us if you are the Messiah,
the Son of God.” “You have said so,” Jesus replies (Mark 14: 53-65; Matthew 26:
57-63; John 18: 19-24).
* *
*
Although Jesus had much to say about the Kingdom of
God, he was not alone in promoting that idea.
What made his message special was that he walked among common men. He lived.
It is clear his approach was to the individual and that he saw the Law,
society, customs and institutions only in the service of the individual.
To him, the Jewish custom of the Sabbath, although
sacred, must not be permitted to stand in the way of helping the individual,
whether that entailed healing him or relieving him of his hunger.
He declared that he had “come to seek and to save
that which was lost,” and by that he meant the individual. Thus news of his peculiar message was quick
to spread. He was a breath of fresh air
in a stale climate, indeed, very much the charismatic figure of his time with a
carefully formulated operational definition of his Messianic mission.
Reinhard Bendix has written:
(Max)
Weber saw legal and traditional domination as permanent structures that provide
for the everyday needs of the community.
Such structures are not well adapted to the satisfaction of needs that
are out of the ordinary. Hence, in times
of trouble the “natural” leader is neither the official nor the master whose
authority is based on the sanctity of tradition, but the man who is believed to
possess the extraordinary gifts of body and mind.
The
troubles that make man call for such a leader and the leaders who respond to
such a call can be of many kinds. The
leaders may be prophets and heroes, magicians and demagogues, doctors and quacks,
leaders of mobs or orchestras or robber bands; if they dominate by virtue of
their charisma, their relationship to their followers is of the same type from
a sociological point of view.
According
to Weber, the possibility of sociology, as of any social science, depends on
our ability to use specifically defined concepts in the value neutral sense,
though this does not imply a disregard of values.
Leaders
of robber bands still are criminals, and leaders of religious movements like
St. Francis still are saintly men. But
Weber put questions of good and evil on a different level from questions of
fact, and the fact is that both very evil and very good men have exercised
domination through extraordinary gifts of mind and body. For better or worse, charismatic leadership
is especially in demand in times of trouble, though it recurs also in the
permanent systems of domination (Bendix 1962).
* *
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