(The Nationalist, 30 June 2006)
One of the things I particularly like about Jesus is his way of teaching. He didn’t pour answers into people’s heads as if they were babies being spoon-fed. He led them gradually, often through questions, to think a matter through until they came to a conclusion. He knew that a truth discovered has more impact than one served up on a plate. Indeed, the value of his teaching is not only for its matter but its manner, its style as well as its substance. Not only what he taught, but how, counts. He drew people into the process, because they mattered.
An example is in a gospel story of Jesus raising a dead girl to life. Underlying it is a question: who is Jesus? – is he a prophet, a teacher, a rabbi, a specially chosen messenger of God, the messiah promised from ages past, or someone more than any or all of those? The reader is invited to work it out.
The story starts with a synagogue leader, Jairus, approaching Jesus with a request. He tells of his fear for his daughter’s life, and asks Jesus to lay his hands on her so that she may be well and live. The intensity of his plea is obvious, and Jesus’ response is immediate: ‘he went with him’.
Then Jairus is told that his daughter is dead. But Jesus said to him, ‘Do not fear; only believe’. He goes to the heart of the matter: faith. Fear, rather than doubt, is the enemy of faith. Doubt is faith’s necessary complement, preventing it from degenerating into credulity. Faith and doubt are like the twin poles of a battery, positive and negative; they need each other.
He comes to the house, and there is a commotion, with people weeping and wailing loudly. Jesus cleared them out to create calm. He then went in, taking only the girl’s parents and three of his disciples. He took her by the hand, and said, ‘Little girl, get up!’ And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about.
Mark, the writer of the gospel, as is common with him, has an eye for detail: ‘she was twelve years of age’, and then adds a very human – and practical – touch: Jesus ‘told them to give her something to eat’.
In miracle stories like this, we are given a picture of Jesus having power over nature, evil spirits, and death. One can argue endlessly about ideas and theories, but not about facts. A fact is a fact, whether one likes it or not. It is evidence and it poses questions. Here the question is posed implicitly: who could such a man be? The gospel writer leaves the reader to draw the conclusion: Jesus is the human image of God, God’s embodiment.
For those in a hurry: ‘A truth discovered is more powerful than one served up on a plate’. (Anon)