Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Chapter Five: The Praxis of a Prophet


 [This is an ongoing project that is analyzing N.T. Wright’s 5 volume series, Christian Origins and the Question of God. This series is widely read and bridges the gap between the academic and devotional world. It is therefore worthy to be carefully analyzed so that all readers can understand his key points while at the same time gaining a critical eye to some of his rather bold claims. This series of posts are concerning volume 2 – Jesus and the Victory of God.]

N.T. Wright here gives in brief the role of Jesus as an apocalyptic Jewish prophet. He argues that Jesus was best understood by Jews in first century Israel as an apocalyptic prophet which then led to a variety of expectations for Jesus as they would expect any apocalyptic prophet. Wright argues that Jesus then largely fulfilled these expectations – though in surprising ways. Wright’s analysis is helpful because it places the historical Jesus in his context – among the peasants of the Galilee. It can be challenged that he has allowed later expectation to govern his categories, but his basic ideas are sound.

First, Wright argues that any discussion one should have about the historical Jesus should be what the public saw of Jesus. History always can speculate about what one was considering, but that will always remain speculative. Better history emphasizes actions done and the general expectation/worldview in which those actions were completed. Wright properly focuses on this aspect by framing the question in that sense:
What would the average Galilean have perceived as Jesus came through the village? What categories would have been available for understanding what was going on? How did Jesus himself regard these basic categories? Only when we have asked these questions is it safe, historically speaking, to work forwards and ask about the other aspects of his mindset, and hence also about his beliefs and his aims.[1]
Wright argues that one should carefully examine the categories that the general populace would have used to understand Jesus. This is a helpful approach because one has to expect that Jesus knew his own audience, so therefore if one can reconstruct their worldview, one can at least know that Jesus had these particular figures in mind when he acted in a variety of ways (and therefore ought to give us a window into his strategy – even if he had a different ultimate plan in mind).

For the audience of the larger world to be helpful, however, one must hypothesize that Jesus was a popular figure. Wright presents Jesus fundamentally as a “popular prophet” who spoke to the masses a message that would have fallen in line with prophets of old:
Retelling, or re-enacting, the story of the exodus, then, was a classic and obvious way of pre-telling, or pre-enacting, the great liberation, the great ‘return from exile’, for which Israel had long. Moreover, the ‘popular’ prophets in particular seem to have been informed by the memory of the great classical prophets, not least the prophetic ministry of Moses and Joshua. We are here in touch with part of what we will later see to be bedrock within the Jesus-tradition. It was as a prophet in this basic mould, acting symbolically in ways that would be understood, and were designed to be understood, according to this basic meta-narrative, that Jesus made his decisive impact on his contemporaries.[2]
Jesus used the category of a prophet which stretched back into the Hebrew Bible to his present day so that he could be best understood. It is clear that Jesus had a very public ministry and this ministry called for a clear message that fulfilled the expectations many Jews held at this time period.

That the message was apocalyptic is not at all surprising. Jesus was calling for the expectation that the kingdom of God was at hand and would be revealed (apocalypsis) very soon. This was not only not surprising, but would have been very clear to his audience:
If it was heard that someone was proclaiming that Israel’s god was at last becoming king, it makes no sense at all to imagine the average Palestinian Jew, of whatever locality, enquiring diligently what manner of movement this might be. If the kingdom was really coming, it makes sense to join in.[3]
Jesus’ proclamation of the “kingdom of God” alone clearly shows that Jesus fit within the fold of the “apocalyptic” prophet which had anticipated Israel being reestablished with God as king. The populace with any knowledge of the Hebrew Bible at all, would not have a hard time understanding this. Further, it is clear that Jesus wanted people to hear his message clearly. Wright explains this by calling Jesus an oracular prophet:
Jesus’ public career was that of an ‘oracular’ prophet. As soon as we develop the picture, however, we see that he also clearly belongs in the other category of ‘popular’ prophets. He gathered around him a group of followers, and acted in various symbolic ways which indicated, for those with eyes to see, that the great exodus, the real return from exile, was at last on its way. Israel’s god would act powerfully within history, and Jesus would lead his people to salvation.[4]
Wright is therefore fully on the side of Jesus as an apocalyptic prophet (rather than other figures – such as John Dominic Crossan who see Jesus primarily as a social reformer). What he argues Jesus did in surprising ways was a matter of inclusion – who and what Israel was and who could be included. This did not challenge the apocalyptic nature of Jesus’ message – it instead was precisely how Jesus argued the apocalyptic expectations were being fulfilled.  

Wright uses his criterion of double similarity to prove his argument about the general practice of Jesus. He claims that his perspectives make sense in context while still allowing for the later development of Christianity:
At each point the double criteria of similarity and dissimilarity can be invoked. This outline of Jesus’ praxis is thoroughly credible within a first-century Jewish context, and makes good sense as part of the presuppositions of the early church; at the same time, this praxis breaks the moulds of the Jewish context, and is, in detail, significantly unlike the characteristic activity of most of the early Christians.[5]
He argues (as per the last chapter) that one should be able to see something distinctive about Jesus that was different than later church practice, but could logically lead to the same. For example, while later church practice did not create (for the most part) further parables, it is clear that they used Jesus’ parables to develop their theology.

Through his double similarity, he focuses on Jesus’ parables, the relationship with John the Baptizer, his powerful works (“miracles” – which he rightly puts in quotes), and the nature of the kingdom of God. Rather than going through each of Wright’s points – which he will present later – this is merely a basic outline, it is far more helpful to focus on the way he considered his categories in total.

Wright’s emphasis on “miracles,” the kingdom of god, and parables to be understood though Jesus as an apocalyptic prophet have one major benefit that Crossan (and others who consider Jesus a social revolutionary) do not have – that the theology of Paul agrees with them. Paul’s theology, then, being very much apocalyptic, became the bedrock of later Christianity. While this is certainly possible, it is also strikingly convenient. It would, of course, be wonderful if Paul’s theology was precisely Jesus’ message. Wright focuses on the aspects of Jesus’ teaching that would best portray that. However, there are some other aspects of Jesus’ ministry that would less ably fit into that category. The teachings Jesus presents about social status and its need to change (particularly with the plight of the outcast – poor, orphans, widows), would not be things that would fit within Paul’s apocalyptic eschatology. Further, the social challenge of parables as fomenting unrest also would not fit as carefully. Neither of these aspects are discussed much at all.

This omission is concerning – if it were simply because Wright thinks Jesus is – above all else – an apocalyptic prophet, then the omission would not be surprising. However, it is concerning because one suspects an ulterior motive. Wright concludes the chapter with a comment on how this view of Jesus as an apocalyptic prophet would fit well with later devotional practice:
Jesus then had the public persona of a prophet, and we can understand a good deal of his ministry, at least in a preliminary fashion, simply on this basis. But this historical analysis inevitably points beyond itself. We can be sure that the early church did not invent the saying according to which John the Baptist is said to be ‘more than a prophet’; but if that is said of John, what must be said for Jesus himself? At this point some will want to jump without more ado into a full Nicene Christology, and will, not for the last time, have to be severely restrained.[6]
While there is nothing wrong with the conclusion that the early church could well have interpreted and handed down Jesus with a proper historical sense, it is concerning how quickly he wants to go there. This should not govern good history. History should occur on its own.

This is precisely the challenge with Wright’s “double similarity” which he presented in the previous chapter. For the understanding that later tradition knew accurately enough the historical Jesus is something that is difficult to claim – particularly due to how little Paul knows of the historical Jesus and his obvious influence in the early church. Wright is aware of this problem and feels it is solved through the appeal of Jesus as an itinerant prophet.
“The fact that Jesus was an itinerant prophet meant, clearly, that he went from village to village, saying substantially the same things wherever he went…Within the peasant oral culture of his day, Jesus must have left behind him, not one or two isolated traditions, but a veritable mare’s nest of anecdotes, and also sentences, aphorisms, rhythmic sayings, memorable stories with local variations, and words that were remembered because of their pithy and apposite phrasing, and because of their instantly being repeated by those who had heard them.[7]
Here, Wright seems almost defensive. He wants to continue to support his hypothesis that later tradition was developed clearly from Jesus himself. To do this, he uses the piece of good historical data that Jesus was an itinerant prophet. This, he argues, would guarantee that those in the Galilee would “know” enough about Jesus to provide the kind of “historical check” against wild stories that could develop about him. The problem is that the majority of Christian congregations from the very early going on were not in the Galilee. Christianity develops rapidly all over the empire and our best data shows that Christianity in the Galilee – after the war in 132-135 – among other Jewish sects was put down aggressively (if only temporarily).

I would point out that I do agree that Jesus is best understood as an apocalyptic Jewish prophet and that he certainly would have sounded as such to his audience. However, we have to be careful how well we can simply tacitly assume that his clear message was preserved by the church while remaining in the realm of good historiography.



[1] JVG, 147.
[2] Ibid., 155.
[3] Ibid., 159-160.
[4] Ibid., 168.
[5] Ibid., 169.
[6] Ibid., 197.
[7] Ibid., 170.

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