The One Who Suffers and Serves
26 February, 2018 // in The Coffeehouse Cleric // by Alex Rowe.
A couple weeks ago I shared a brief but beautiful story about Jesus. In it, Jesus healed a man with leprosy, and whilst doing so he transgressed Jewish ritual purity laws by reaching out and touching him. I find the story very moving, and I encourage you to read that post before this one. This week, I shall attempt to put the story in context, showing how Jesus’ particular actions there, in that one incident, are congruent with his whole way of life.
As Jesus goes about his early ministry he begins to rise in fame. He amazes people in a countryside synagogue so that his fame spreads all throughout the surrounding region (1.28). When he tries to withdraw one morning, in order to rest and pray, his disciples find him and declare, “Everyone is searching for you!” (1.37). This theme continues in our story of the man with leprosy, who once healed goes and proclaims freely to all around what Jesus has done for him. Jesus’ success and reputation now increases futhers, so much so than we are told he “could no longer go into a town openly” (1.45).
Yet despite all this, despite his apparent popularity, Jesus’ death looms large. Indeed, Martin Kähler, a biblical scholar of a previous generation, described Mark’s Gospel as “a passion narrative with an extended introduction.” The next ‘act’ in the drama introduces five incidents in which Jesus’ faces opposition (2.1–3.6), especially from the religious elites of his day, and it ends on an ominous note when we are told “The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him” (3.6). Jesus is making enemies as well as friends.
A key moment comes when Jesus foresees his own imminent death and makes a prediction about it (8.31–33). This is the first of three in close succession: “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly.” Peter however, one of Jesus’ rag-tag followers, doesn’t like this idea. How can Jesus, at the prime of his life and when it seems the whole world is ready to go after him, suffer and be killed? So we are told, “And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he [Jesus] rebuked Peter and said, ‘Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’”
The irony of the passage above is that this prediction comes immediately after Peter has confessed Jesus to be the Messiah: “[Jesus] asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” … He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” For Jesus to speak of his coming death so soon after his disciples recognised him as the Messiah suggests something important: Jesus’ messiahship can only be properly understood in light of his suffering.
In this vein is a saying recorded of Jesus that goes like this: “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (10.45). The titular “Son of Man” is the main way in which Jesus refers to himself in Mark’s Gospel. In its older Hebrew and Aramaic usages, it often served simply as a circumlocation for “human being.” However, in some later Jewish traditions, the Son of Man was perhaps understood to be a kind of divine cosmic judge. This Son of Man descends from the heavenly realm to dispense justice and bring peace (inspired by “the one like a Son of Man” in Daniel 7). If Jesus had in mind this latter reading, and he is aligning himself with the tradition of apocalyptic messianism, notice then that his chief mode of operation is not judgement but service. He subverts the tradition. He reinterprets it. Now Jesus is the one who, in his death, will be judged and shall suffer. He is the one who serves.
The final story to discuss in Jesus’ life is his death. All has been leading up to this moment. The climax has come; the crescendo sounded. Watching Jesus in his pain and agony, though all else around mock and despise him, is a curious Roman centurion. This is what happens: “Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last… Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, ‘Truly this man was God’s Son!’” Here we have perhaps the only unprovoked and unprompted “confession” concerning Jesus identity — and by one of the Roman soldiers overseeing his execution! The theme that I have been outlining so far is seen most clearly here: that Jesus can only be understood in view of his suffering and his service.
Returning then to our first story, when Jesus touches and heals the man with leprosy. What are we to make of it in light of this brief survey of Jesus’ life and death? Quite simply this: Jesus is consistent. His chief disposition, in life or death, is always to serve, to suffer with and for others, and to love. The compassion Jesus felt as he reached out to touch the man with leprosy is the compassion that coloured his whole way of life. The scandalous love he showed to the man, even transgressing social norms, is the same love that characterised all that he said, all that he did, even all that he was when he died and all that he is, now, in risen glory.
Thank you for reading. The Coffeehouse Cleric is a Medium publication dedicated to asking the big questions of life. It features writing on three main areas: minimalism, spirituality, and learning. If you enjoyed this piece, please do share it with friends and family on social media.
