Lenten Reflection: Luke 4:3-4

February 26, 2013

God tests Jesus in the wilderness and Satan tempts him to satisfy his desires by inappropriate means.

One need is hunger. It would seem that satisfying hunger should not be characterized as inappropriate. Food is a created good to be enjoyed.

The Slanderer (Diabolos) suggests that Jesus should create his own food. If he really is the Son of God then he should provide his own bread. He should satisfy his hunger. There is nothing that prevents him from doing this if he really is the Son of God.

Jesus does not respond by saying, “I could make bread from these stones if I wanted to.” Rather, he addresses the Slanderer’s presumption about what the purpose of his wilderness experience is. While the Slanderer wanted to minimize the wilderness experience by reducing it to physical hunger, Jesus reminds him about its real purpose.

The purpose of the wilderness is not a physical endurance test as if acetic practices are about how much a human being can physically endure. Rather, the wilderness is about a hunger for God; it is about depending on God for strength for the soul. Jesus is in the wilderness to clarify his mission and deepen his dependence on the Father.

The wilderness reminds us that we can’t live on bread alone. Our material ambitions–from food to clothing to housing to video games–cannot satisfy the deepest longings of the human soul. When we live at this level we ultimately feel empty and this emptiness will kill our souls. When we live at this level, the mission of God takes a back seat.

In the wilderness we hunger and thirst for God. Fasting reminds us that the fullness of life is not found through pizza and beer, but eating the bread of God. Authentic life feasts on communion with God and embraces, by God’s strength, the mission of God.

Fasting leads to feasting. When we fast from the idolatry of  instant gratification, we learn to feast on God for true life.


A Lord’s Supper Home Meal — A Method

July 24, 2012

On many different occasions, and some recently, I have been asked about how I conceive or conduct the Lord’s supper as a home meal. Others who are doing something similar have wanted to compare their practices with my own. I have never explicitly addressed this on my blog but now is an opportune moment.

The Lord’s supper as a meal is not a weekly event for me but it is fairly common.  In my small group, several of my classes and other occasions I have led or participated in group meals as the “Lord’s supper.”

Why do this?  Well, first the Lord’s supper is a supper, that is, it is an evening meal (the meaning of deipnon). Second, I think the supper was intended for smaller groups. The Jerusalem church, though 3000 strong on the day of Pentecost, met to “break bread” in their homes in small groups. Third, the supper as a group meal engenders intimacy among its participants. There we experience fellowship at the most basic level through eating together; there we show hospitality toward each other; and there we experience grace around the table.

When I lead the Lord’s meal, I have a fairly general outline of how the meal will proceed. This is not rigid but I think ritual is important or else the meal will lose focus and degenerate into a generality that cannot carry the weight of the moment. Nevertheless, the meal varies in order, Scripture texts, and meditation. But here is the general order in which I lead the meals (by the way, the food is already on the table as we sit down).

1.  Lighting of candles.  I like two central candles on the table to symbolize the light of creation and the light of new creation.  We give honor and praise to the Father and Son in this way as we remember that the Holy Spirit (the flame of love) illuminates us and brings us into the presence of the Father and Son.

2.  Each participant has a small candle in front of their plate.  I ask each, in turn, to light their candle (the lighter is passed around) and give thanks for something that God is doing in their lives. We begin with our basic response to the light of God, that is, we give thanks.

3.  I offer a meditation on the Lord’s Supper using a text of Scripture. This may range from the traditional texts like 1 Corinthians 11 or Luke 22.  But I don’t limit myself to them. Other texts also come into play such as Psalms of thanksgiving (like Psalm 116, 107, 118) and other texts that carry the meaning of the meal within them or through application.

4.  Breaking of the Bread. I use a whole loaf that is large enough for every person at the table to take a substantial piece (not just a pinch).  I take the bread in my hands and talk about the meaning of the bread.  The bread is from the earth that nourishes our bodies but the bread is also a means of experiencing the new creation through as the raised, living body of Christ. We eat this bread for both physical and spiritual nourishment.  I then break the bread and offer a prayer of thanksgiving, and then distribute it.  I give it to the people on either side of me and they break off a piece and pass it down to those around the table.  As each one gives the bread to the other, they say:  ”This is the body of Christ which is given for you.”  We all eat the bread.

5.  We begin eating and drinking what is available on the table.

6.  At some point at the beginning of our eating (after we all have food on our plates), I will remind the participants of the two candles and that by the presence of the Spirit, the living Christ is the host of this table.  If we have some ongoing intimacy as a group (that is, this is not the first time we ever met or a special occasion), I will ask each to share something that is happening in their life in their walk with God (struggles, triumphs, etc.). This is a community meal.  At the end of the sharing, we pray for each other.

7.  Towards the middle of the meal, I will remind the table that this is the communion of the saints, which includes the saints around the world at present but also the communion of the saints who now inhabit the heavens with God. I begin by recalling the presence of Sheila, Dad and Joshua at the table with us, and ask each to remember one who is already in the heavens but present at the table with us even now. We remember that we commune with the saints as well as with God.

8.  In connection with this remembrance, I ask each to share a name for whom we might pray.  Depending on time, they may explain why the name, but usually I just ask for names without explanation.  This is for a time of intercession.  We pray over the names, and I don’t usually list the names again in the prayer but simply acknowledge that God has heard and we call up God to act.

9.  In this context, I will share or ask another to share another scripture.  One of my favorites at this point is Psalm 116.  It is a thanksgiving Psalm that reminds us that we cannot repay God’s goodness except to lift up the cup of thanksgiving and celebrate a meal with God (the Psalm is written in the context of a thanksgiving sacrifice).

10.  Towards the end of the meal, I take the pitcher that is filled with the fruit of the vine and talk about the “cup” we are about to drink.  I remind us that this is the blood of Christ which is poured out for us for the remission of our sins. In this moment we experience reconciliation with God–we are forgiven.  But I also remind us that the “cup” is something we share with Christ, that is, we share the cup of suffering as persons who follow Jesus to the cross.  We are reminded that we are disciples committed to follow Jesus daily, even to a cross.

11.  Pouring the Cup.  I take the pitcher and pour some into a cup (something like a wine class perhaps) for the person sitting next to me.  As I pour, I say, this is the blood of Christ for you and invite them to share the cup of Jesus. In turn, they pour the cup for the person next to them and around the table till all have their cups filled. Someone then prays over the cup, giving thanks for what God has done in Jesus. And we drink together as we say “Thank you, Jesus.” Many times we cling our glasses together in a toast.

11.  As each pours the cup for the other, I ask that they affirm that person for something in their life. In what way do they see Jesus in this person who sits at the table with them? For what do they give thanks for them and acknowledge their communion in Christ?  In this way, we share an intimacy with each other and express our gratitude for each other as we express our gratitude to God.

13.  As we drink and conclude the meal, I don’t want the cup to simply end with a sip. Rather, as we drink and continue to drink (and finish eating as the case may be), I ask each person in turn to share one word (with an explanation) that is prominent in their heart and mind at that moment. What are they experiencing? We share a word that expresses our heart.

14.  Sometimes dessert is offered as a taste of the eschaton–as a present foretaste of coming joy.

15.  As the meal winds down and we conclude eating, I end the meal with some kind of benediction. It could be a prayer, a blessing, a Scripture reading.

This is a method; it is certainly not a standard or the method.  I think the meal can be conducted in any number of ways.  However, I do think several things are important:

  • Scripture (the Word) to Open the Meal
  • Bread and Fruit of the Vine
  • Communion of the Saints
  • Intercession for the Saints
  • Expressions of Gratitude
  • Benediction as Closure

Perhaps some might find this helpful.  For whatever its value, there it is!    :-)


Malachi 1:6-14 — Treating the Lord’s Table with Contempt

July 12, 2012

Some seventy years, more or less, after the rebuilding of the temple, Malachi directs his attention to the priests of the Second Temple. Twice, in Malachi 1:6-2:9, addresses them directly which the NRSV translates as a vocative, that is, “O Priests” (1:6; 2:1). This divides Malachi’s oracle for the priests into two obvious sections (1:6-14 and 2:1-9).

In the first section (1:6-14), Malachi rebukes the priests for their complicity in offering unacceptable sacrifices at the temple. In the second section (2:1-9), he reminds them of their covenantal responsibility to guide the people. In effect, because they have failed in their responsibility to appropriately guide worshippers, they offer sacrifices on the altar that are beneath the dignity and honor due God.

Why do priests, leaders of God’s people, sacrifice animals—lead the people in worship—they know are unacceptable? What motivates these priests? Why do they not assert their status as God’s covenantal leaders and instruct the people about godly sacrifices? I think that is a critical question, but first we need to understand how Malachi addresses the problem before we can discern his judgment about their motivation.

At bottom, the priests dishonor God. The priests “despise” the “name” of God. This is the central point. It is where Malachi begins his address to the priests and the point that the priests dispute or question (1:6). Further, Malachi uses the term five times in his brief book and only when speaking to the priests (1:6 [2x], 7, 12; 2:9). The word “despise” bookends his addresses to the priests (1:6 and 2:9). Just as the priests have despised God, so he made Judah a despised people. The term means to treat with contempt or dishonor.

Joined with “despise” is the “name” of God. The priests despise God’s name. “Name” is used eight times in this section (1:6 [2x], 11 [3x], 14, 2:2, 5). When we see the word “name” we should recall God’s identity as well as reputation. The name of God is God’s person and the frequent use of the term in this section is probably tied to the covenantal and relational nature of the topic itself.

The core value, then, is how does one honor God’s name, or, to put it another way, how do we worship God in a covenantal relationship? How does one show their allegiance, respect and loyalty to God? This is the heart of worship itself. To worship God is to “honor” God, or more literally, to give God glory or ascribe to God “weight” (1:6 [2x]; kabed).

Malachi’s dialogue with the priests sets up the point:

Malachi: “You, O priests, have despised my name.”
Priests: “How have we despised your name?”
Malachi: “By offering polluted food on my altar.”
Priests: “How have we polluted it?”
Malachi: “By thinking that the Lord’s table may be despised.”

Instead of honoring God, they despise the name of God. Instead of eating sacrifices (“food” and “table”) that honor God, they prepare meals that dishonor God.

The effect of this dishonor is that their sacrifices are neither pleasing nor accepted (1:10). Moreover, these “gifts” do not bring us before God’s face. The Hebrew idiom here is quite interesting. Literally, the text claims that those who so seek God’s “face” (favor of God), God will not “lift up” their “faces” (favor). When we dishonor God as we seek God’s pleasure—as we seek his face in worship—we lose God’s favor, that is, he does not lift up our faces before him. In other words, when we so worship God, we do not experience God’s presence but rather his absence. God is not “gracious” in such circumstances (cf. Psalm 50).

God’s response, of course, to such “seeking” (worshipping) is nausea. Instead of a pleasing odor, these sacrifices turn God’s stomach. Yahweh would rather they shut the doors of the temple than continue these kinds of sacrifices. This is “vain” worship (1:10). There is no communion; there is no fellowship. The whole event is profaned (1:12) or polluted (1:7); it is made an unholy thing.

But what exactly were they doing? They offered lame, blind or sick animals for sacrifice. Malachi uses a play on words here—when the priests “implore” (from the Hebrew verb halah) God’s face, they do so with sick (holeh from the same root as the verb) animals. They seek God with sick animals.

But is that the full extent of their problem? Is it merely what they offer? Perhaps it is a formal (positivistic) legal point: Yahweh said offer X (an unblemished animal) and you offered Y (a blemished one). But there appears to be more here than that. The positivistic point is the surface symptom; the real problem lies underneath.

Malachi indicates that there are at least two other problems that compound the situation: (1) attitude and (2) morality. Climatically, Malachi hits at the heart of the problem in Malachi 1:13-14. The priests are “weary” and they offer on the altar what has been taken by “violence.” These are very cryptic references but they are telling.

The term “weariness” in 1:13 literally means “what wearies one” (or, what creates a hardship). It points to exhaustion, hopelessness and impatience. The priests are, in effect, “going through the motions” rather than investing in the presence of God. They see their situation as analogous to wandering in a wilderness (this word is used of the hardship of the wilderness in Exodus 18:8; Numbers 20:14). The priests had lost hope and saw what they were doing as meaningless.

But that is not all. Some promise one thing but deliver another. They break their vows. They cheat; they are dishonest. But the word is more harsh than a “cheater.” They are deceivers who lie and scheme. Isaiah 32:7 applies this description to the term: “his devices are evil; he plans wicked schemes to ruin the poor with lying words, even when the plea of the needy is right.”

But this is not all. Judah offered to God what was taken by “violence” (1:13). This is an important word in the prophets. It is used by Isaiah (10:2; 61:8), Jeremiah (21:12; 22:3), Ezekiel (18:7, 12, 16, 18; 22:29), and Micah (2:2; 3:2). It is synonymous with economic oppression. For example, Micah 2:2 describes the wicked as those who “covet fields and seize [rob] them…they oppress a man and his house.” Or Ezekiel 22:29 describes people who have “practiced extortion and committed robbery. They have oppressed the poor and the needy.” The term has a ring of institutional economic oppression in the prophets. Malachi, it seems, envisions something similar here. Indeed, later in the book, Malachi will highlight economic injustice as one of the great sins of his day (Malachi 3:5).

So, the problem with the priests and the worshippers is not simply that they violated some legal prescription. Rather, it goes deeper than that. It goes to their heart. They do not offer their best; they offer what is of little to no use for them (e.g., lame animals). They scheme and lie and make promises they do not intend to keep. They are tired of religion and the rituals have lost their meaning. They are not committed to righteousness; instead, they oppress the poor through violence. They offer sacrifices but the sacrifices they offer are not their own.

Judah, through its priestly representatives, brings sacrifices to the altar for slaughter that they might take their animals to the “table of the Lord” to eat them (“food” in Malachi 1:7, 12 but two different words in Hebrew). They intend to sit down at the table of the Lord; they intend to commune with their God. But God despises their pretense, their hearts, their violence. God does not show up at this table and the odor is nauseating. God does not accept their worship; their sacrifices and their eating is “in vain.”

God, however, is not dependent upon the praises of Israel or worship in the Second Temple. God is honored even when Israel fails to honor Yahweh. Malachi 1:11 proclaims the greatness of God’s name “among the nations” and “in every place” because God’s name is “great among the nations.” The God of Israel is not limited to Israel because “Great is Yahweh beyond the borders of Israel!” (Malachi 1:5).

To what, however, does this refer? Actually, in Hebrew, this sentence does not have a main verb. Some translations (NRSV) supply “is” while others (ESV) supply “will be.” In other words, is Malachi 1:11 a statement about the present or the future? Or, is it deliberately ambiguous so that it might include both? Either way, the point is that God’s honor is not dependent upon Israel’s worship.

Yet, is there some sense in which it is both. Early Christians understood this text in the light of their own context. They were worshippers scattered among the nations so that “in every place” they offered themselves to the Lord (cf. 1 Timothy 2:8 which uses the same phrase that appears in the LXX of Malachi 1:11; cf. Didache 14). This is consistent with other prophetic expectations that one day the nations would honor the name of Yahweh (cf. Isaiah 2:2; 56:7; 60:3; 66:19).

And yet we might question whether this is wholly future. The final line of Malachi 1:14 also lacks the verb and is variously translated “will be” or “is”: “my name will be (or, is) feared among the nations.” But this sentence is joined to a previous one which asserts: “I am (or, will be) a great King” (again, no verb in Hebrew). Yet the meaning here is surely not “I will be a great King.” The Lord already reigns and it seems best to read the present tense in the final phrase as well, that is, “my name is feared among the nations.”

If that is the case, then it is also quite likely that Malachi 1:11 has the present in view as well. This does not exclude the future, and so it might be best to include both the present and the future ideas. In some form and in some way, Yahweh’s honor and greatness is already acknowledged among the nations. They fear the Lord, but we also await a day when people, scattered among the nations, will continuously offer sacrifices to Yahweh in a way that honors him. We await a day when the nations themselves–all the nations–will honor Yahweh.

In our present Christian assemblies, when we sit at the table of the Lord, we honor God, are received into his presence, and his grace flows over us. We offer ourselves as sacrifices at that time as we also receive God’s sacrificial gift. We commune at the table of the Lord, just like Israel.

We live, however, with the same danger that rendered the worship of Malachi’s priests vain. We, too, can sit at the table with insincerity, deceit, violence and injustice (cf. 1 Corinthians 10). When we do so, we, too, offer God a nauseating odor.


Table Reflections: Jesus At the Table

September 23, 2010

In my last post I suggested three perspectives from which we  might view the table:

  1. Jesus on the Table–the sacrifical victim who nourishes us with new life
  2. Jesus at the Table–the hospitable host who welcomes all to the table
  3. Jesus serving the Table–the master who waits on tables

Before unpacking #2, one further comment on #1.  While some might object that “on the table” might sound a bit too literalistic or substantial (in terms of transsubstantiation or consubstantiation), I think my point illuminates that “on” is used metaphorically here but yet with a true, authentic spirituality.  Jesus is “on” the table in the sense that the risen Christ nourishes us as one who already participates fully in the new creation. Through eating his body and drinking his blood, we truly participate in that new creation ourselves as Christ nourishes us with his own life–a life-giving body and humanity. This is accomplished through the Spirit by whom we participate in that new life. This is the meaning I attach to “This is my body” and “This is my blood,” that is, it is a true communion with the life of Jesus. It that sense, since by the means of the bread and wine, Jesus is “on the table.”

Today: Jesus at the Table.

This is the major theme of my book Come to the Table.  My central thesis–though not the exclusive meaning of the Supper–is that Jesus sits at host of his table in the kingdom of God. The Living Christ is present at the table, seated with his welcome guests, eating and drinking with them, welcoming them to the table, and providing the meal as a gracious gift.

Several key phrases in the Gospel accounts of the Last Supper reflect this motif.  For example, Luke 22 announces Jesus’ intent to eat the Passover and drink the wine again when the meal finds its fulfillment in the kingdom of God (22:16-17). Jesus is no mere spectator at this meal, and neither is he merely the content of the meal (the Passover lamb). Rather, he is an active participant as he eats and drinks at the table.

More explicitly, in Matthew’s account, Jesus explicitly states his expectation that when he drinks the cup anew in the kingdom of God he will do so–as he says to his disciples–”with (meta) you” (26:29) just as earlier in the narrative Jesus had stated his intent “to keep the Passover…with (meta) my disciples” (26:18). In Matthew this is very significant language as he begins his gospel with the “Immanuel” which means “God with (meta) us” (1:23) and ends his gospel with the promise that the risen Lord would always be “with (meta) you” (28:20).

This language is pregnant with meaning and evokes significant theological reflection.  It is about presence, but more than presence.  It is about participation with, but more than even that.  It is about, in Matthew 26, a shared meal–a mutuality, a reciprocity, an experience of active communion with the living Christ.

At the table, Jesus hosts….eats and drinks…communes…shares…and loves. God is with us in the human, risen Christ and we eat at God’s table in God’s kingdom. We eat at the table of the king.

This is a gracious gift and a demonstration of the love of God. We–undeserving, unworthy–eat with God. We–unexpectedly, wondrously, joyfully–eat with Jesus.

In such a light, why does sadness dominate our tables in the church? Why can we not eat and drink with joy since we eat and drink with the living Christ? Jesus is at the table!


Jesus as “Son of Man” in the Gospel of John

July 28, 2009

The “Son of Man” is Jesus’ own self-description—he uses the title twelve times in the Gospel of John (1:51; 3:13, 14; 5:27; 6:27, 53, 62; 8:28; 9:35; 12:23; 13:31; in 12:34 his language is quoted back to him). It ranks second behind “Son” (in the sense of Son of God) as Jesus’ favorite self-description in the Gospel of John.

“Son of God” reflects the unique and intimate relationship between the Father and Jesus. He is uniquely Son—he is monogenes (the only one of his kind; John 3:16); there is no other sonship like his. Father and Son share an intimacy that is rooted in their shared divinity. They are one.

“Son of Man” has often been characterized as a focus on the humanity of Jesus, that is, he was born of woman. He is a human being. The Gospel of John certainly stresses the humanity of Jesus. Jesus eats and drinks like other humans; he experiences fatigue and he sheds blood. He dies.

But what is the function of this title on the lips of Jesus? Does he use the title to alert his hearers to his own humanity and his identification with the human predicament? Does Jesus use “Son of God” to refer to his divinity but “Son of Man” to signal his humanity? Or, is there more to the story than that?

“Son of Man” in the Gospel of John

Initial Use (John 1:51). John 1 is strewn with titles applied to Jesus: God (John 1:1), Son (John 1:18), Lamb (John 1:29, 36), Elect (John 1:34), Messiah (1:41) and Son of Joseph (1:45). “Son of Man” is Jesus’ own language for his identity. Nathaniel believed on Jesus because of Jesus’ intimate knowledge of him, but Jesus promised that he would “see greater things than that.” Specifically, and with the emphatic emphasis of “I tell you the truth,” he promised all the disciples (“you” is plural) that they would “see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

The language alludes to Jacob’s vision in Genesis 28:12. It is a rich metaphor which probably includes several ideas. Jesus is where humanity and divinity intersect. He is the revelatory Word of God addressing humanity through the presence of divine glory. That “heaven opened” pictures the pouring out of divine reality into the world which includes judgment (Isaiah 24:18; cf. John 5:27) and life (Deuteronomy 28:12; cf. John 6:53). Jesus is the locus of divine glory on earth—the place where heaven and earth meet.

Nicodemus Story (John 3:13-14). Responding to Nicodemus’ inquiries, Jesus declares that kingdom people are born “from above” (or, again) through the work of the Spirit. This, according to Jesus, is a “heavenly” thing, and only the one who can speak it is the one “who came from heaven—the Son of Man.” At the same time the one “came from heaven” is also the only one who “has ever gone into heaven.” This is the language of descent and ascent. The Son of Man is a heavenly persona who comes down from heaven (incarnation; cf. John 1:14) and returns to heaven (ascension; cf. John 20:17).

However, between the descent and the ascent is a crucial saving event called “lifting up.” Like the snake in the wilderness (Numbers 21:4-9), “the Son of Man must be lifted up.” The wilderness event saved those who trusted in God through looking at the snake, but judged those who refused. In the same way, the cross of Jesus will save those who believe but condemn those who reject the Son (John 3:16, 36). Life comes to those who believe but judgment to those who do not.

Judgment Theme (John 5:27). Jesus rehearses a similar theme in John 5:24—“whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life” but those who do not will be condemned (John 5:29). The Son of God is given “authority to judge because he is the Son of Man.” This judgment is eschatological in character, that is, it is occurs on a coming day when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of Man and rise to life or condemnation. The Son has authority to give life (John 5:21) or to condemn (judge; John 5:27).

Living Food (John 6:27, 53, 62). The Son of Man, Jesus tells those who are seeking loaves that only satisfy for a moment, gives “food that endures to eternal life” (John 6:27). Indeed, the Son of Man is himself the living bread of the Passover meal. He is the “bread of life” (John 6:35). This eternal life is present but also eschatological, that is, it is the life of the resurrection on the last day (John 6:40).

Jesus, then, becomes more specific about the reality of this living food which gives eternal life. One must, Jesus says, “eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood” in order to have life (John 6:53). Flesh and blood clearly point to the humanity of the Son of Man but the “eternal life” (John 6:54) that comes through eating and drinking points us to the heavenly nature of the Son of Man. Eating and drinking are means by which, Jesus says, one “remains in me, and I in him.” It is a spiritual union, an intimacy that is made possible by the sacrifice of the Passover Lamb and by our ingesting that sacrifice.

“Eating flesh” is too much for some disciples as they grumbled about his meaning. But this eating is a one that is rooted in the exalted nature of the Son of Man whom they will “see…ascend to where he was before” (John 6:62). His return to heaven—the ascension—empowers the Spirit to give life even when flesh in and of itself “counts for nothing” (John 6:63). The exalted, ascended Son of Man gives life by the power of the Spirit to his disciples through the eating of his flesh and the drinking of his blood.

Uniqueness of the Son (John 8:28). Jesus is the “light of the world” (John 8:12)—the revelation of God, the Word of God. This is rooted in his unique relationship with the Father (John 8:16) and the fact that he is “not of this world” (John 8:23). He has come down from heaven as one sent by the Father. But the climactic revelation of this relationship is the cross when fallen humanity lifts up the Son of Man (John 8:28). In that moment the heavenly origin of Jesus will be revealed and the world judged.

Healing Presence (John 9:35). In Jerusalem Jesus healed a man who had been born blind. Refusing to accept the miracle, the temple leaders excluded him. When Jesus “found him,” he asked, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The association of “Son of Man” title with this healing act reflects the eschatological reality that the Son of Man will inaugurate. There will be no curse, no blindness, but only the revelation of the glory of God. A blind man sees the Son of Man—that is the life and joy that God brings through the Son of Man.

The Son is Lifted Up (John 12:23, 34). Now the “hour” has arrived. It is the moment when the Son of Man is to be lifted up—and this involves both glorification (John 12:23) and death (John 12:32-34). When the Son of Man is lifted up, the name of the Father is glorified (John 12:28). Also when the Son of Man is lifted up, the Son of Man dies like a “kernel of wheat” planted in the ground to produce life. The Son of Man glorifies the Father through submissive obedience as an expression of the intimacy the Son feels for the Father (John 12:27-28) and this glorifies the Father. The Son of Man is the Lamb of God who goes to the slaughter (cf. Isaiah 53:1 quoted in John 12:38) and is lifted up for the sake of the world in obedience to the Father. Disciples who serve Jesus must also “follow” him in honoring the Father who will in return honor the one who serves Jesus (John 12:26).

The Glory of the Son (John 13:31). The glory of the Son of Man is to glorify the Father through his death, and in response God will glorify the Son. This is the intimacy of their relationship. The Son of Man obeys the Father and the Father loves the Son, and they share the glory of redemption by inviting humanity into their own communion. The glory of the Son and Father is the inclusion of broken humanity in the Triune fellowship of the Father, Son and Spirit—a theme prominent in the Farewell Discourse (John 13:31-17:26).

The Theology of the Son of Man in the Gospel of John

The identity of Jesus as the Son is the one who descended from heaven to obey the Father by being lifted up on a cross in order that believers might have eternal life in the resurrection and the disobedient judged by the light of God’s glory.

Son of Man as the Descended Heavenly Figure. Jesus’ role as the “Son of Man” is deeply connected with his unique relationship to the Father as the Son of God. It is because he is Son of God that he comes to earth as Son of Man. The Son of Man is sent by God from heaven to earth to accomplish the redemption of humanity through his obedience and to be the light of God in the midst of the world’s darkness. The Son of Man descends from a pre-existent status as “God” (John 1:1) to incarnate himself in human flesh and dwell among us. This is the one who not only lived in the bosom of the Father but now comes to earth to reveal the Father and manifest the glory of God in a broken world. The Son of Man is not simply a human being but the one who comes from heaven and is returning to heaven.

Son of Man as the One Lifted Up. The Son of Man is lifted up in obedience to the Father. The Son loves the Father, trusts the Father and thus obeys the Father. Their intimacy bears the fruit of redemption in the cross. The cross of Jesus, however, both saves and condemns. The cross draws some into fellowship with the Father but it repels others. Some trust in Jesus but others reject him. The cross is God’s saving act for believers but it condemns those who trust the darkness. The Son of Man is an apocalyptic savior and judge—the whole cosmos will answer to him. The cross is the focus of both God’s saving work and his judgment.

Son of Man as Ascended Eschatological Figure. The Son of Man does not remain dead but is born again through resurrection. The seed that is planted in death produces a new life in the resurrection. In this sense the Son of Man is a human being from the future; he is new humanity anticipating a new creation. The resurrection inaugurates a new reality that will be consummated in a new heaven and new earth. The Son of Man, as new human, returns to heaven; he ascends to the Father. There he pours out the Holy Spirit upon his disciples who live in the intimacy, power and giftedness of the Spirit for the mission entrusted to them. By the power of that Spirit, the Son of Man is yet present to his disciples through eating and drinking, that is, the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper. This is life, and it is the eternal life of the Ascended One who will raise us from the dead on the last day. The Son of Man is both the guarantor of our own resurrection and the life of our resurrection because of his own resurrection.

So What?

In conclusion, it is important to raise the question of significance and meaning for the contemporary church. There are many points to raise, but four are particularly significant for our present walk with God.

First, the Son of God became Son of Man in order to reveal the Father. We know the Father most clearly and fundamentally through Jesus—he is the image of the Father. The Son of Man is the revelatory bridge between God and humanity. He is the intersection between heaven and earth and to see—to know him—is to know the Father.

Second, through the Son of Man we are united to the Father and experience the same intimacy with the Father that the Son of Man has with the Father. The Father loves us just as he loves the Son (John 17:23). The Father dwells in us and we in him just as the Father dwells in the Son and the Son in him. The Father and Son did not abandon us when the Son returned to heaven but sent the Holy Spirit to dwell in us through whom we experience the intimate communion and love of the Triune God. Our intimacy with the Father in the Son through the Spirit is real, authentic—and it is available to all who trust in the one who was lifted up for our sakes to the glory of God.

Third, the Son of Man is yet present in the world through the power of the Holy Spirit when we eat his flesh and drink his blood at the table of the Lord. While flesh means nothing, the Spirit gives eternal life through eating and drinking. The realistic language upsets many—as it did disciples at the time it was spoken—but the reality is the spiritual communion between Jesus and his disciples through the Holy Spirit. By the Spirit we enjoy not only the forgiveness that the death of Jesus (flesh and blood) produced for us but we also enjoy the eternal life that is experienced in the communion of the Father, Son and Spirit with those who sit at the table eating and drinking in the kingdom of God. This is communal, spiritual nourishment as we experience eternal life even now while we yet live in these broken bodies. When we eat and drink the life of the Son at this table we experience even now the new, abundant life he brings and anticipate the fullness of that life in the coming resurrection.

Fourth, just as the Son of Man was sent, so now he sends his disciples. The Son of Man was obedient, even to the cross, and those who believe on him must follow him, even to a cross. Just as the Son of Man, we are sent into the world for the sake of the world to the glory of God. His mission has become our mission, that is, to obey the Father so that the glory of God might shine in the world. Redeemed by the Father, sent by Jesus, and empowered by the Holy Spirit, this is our mission.

An audio presentation of similar material is available here (delivered at the Highland View Church of Christ in Oak Ridge, TN, on July 29, 2009).


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