Re-Imagining Jesus
Mark 6:1-6 Jan 4, 2008
Intro:
Over the holidays I watched a movie on TV called “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby”. It’s a cheesy comedy starring Will Farrell, and although it had a few good moments I don’t recommend it. There was one scene which I want to describe to you. Now, I would generally just show the video clip but it contains a few mild cuss words which I know some of you would find offensive, and rather than offend some of you and have you tune out the rest of the message I’ll just describe the scene and read the dialogue with some brief edits.
The star, “Ricky Bobby”, is a Nascar race driver who at this point in the film is at the top of the race world, winning and raking in money. He has just sat down to dinner with his wife, two kids, best friend, and father in law. And before they eat, Ricky begins to say grace.
Ricky Bobby: Dear Lord Baby Jesus, or, as our brothers in the South call you: Jesús, we thank you so much for this bountiful harvest of Domino’s, KFC, and the always delicious Taco Bell. I just want to take time to thank you for my family, my two beautiful, beautiful, handsome, striking sons Walker and Texas Ranger, or T.R., as we call him, and of course my red-hot smoking wife, Carley, who is a stone-cold fox… my best friend… (here he gets interrupted a bit, then continues…)
Ricky Bobby: Dear Lord Baby Jesus, we also thank you for my wife’s father, Chip. We hope that you can use your baby Jesus Powers to heal him and his horrible leg. It smells terrible and the dogs are always bothering with it. Dear tiny infant Jesus, we —
Carley: Hey, you know, Sweetie, Jesus did grow up. You don’t always have to call him “baby”. It’s a bit odd and off-puttin’ to pray to a baby.
Ricky: Well, look, I like the Christmas-Jesus best and I’m saying grace. When you say grace, you can say it to grownup Jesus, teenage Jesus, bearded Jesus, whoever you want.
Carley: You know what I want? I want you to do this grace good, so that God will let us win tomorrow.
Ricky Bobby: Dear tiny Jesus in your golden-fleece diapers, with your tiny, little, fat, balled-up fists, pawing at the air…
Chip: He was a MAN… He had a BEARD!
Ricky Bobby: Look: I like the baby version best, do you hear me? I win the races and I get the money.
Carley: Ricky, finish the *%&$@ grace.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: I like to picture Jesus in a tuxedo T-Shirt, ’cause it says, like: “I wanna be formal, but I’m here to party, too.” Cause I like to party, so I like my Jesus to party.
Walker: I like to picture Jesus as a ninja fighting off evil samurai.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: I like to think of Jesus like with giant eagles’ wings, and singin’ lead vocals for Lynyrd Skynyrd with like an angel band and I’m in the front row and I’m hammered drunk!
Carley: Hey Cal, why don’t you just shut up.
Cal Naughton, Jr.: Yes, ma’am.
Ricky Bobby: Okay. Dear 8-pound, 6-ounce, newborn infant Jesus, don’t even know a word yet, just a little infant and so cuddly, but still omnipotent, we just thank you for all the races I’ve won and the 21.2 million dollars, wooh! (everyone joins in the celebration)… Love that money! That I have accrued over this past season. Also, due to a binding endorsement contract that stipulates I mention Powerade at each grace, I just wanna say that Powerade is delicious, and it cools you off on a hot summer day. And we look forward to Powerade’s release of Mystic Mountain Blueberry. Thank you, for all your power and your grace, dear baby God, Amen.
[Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, USA 2006, Regie: Adam McKay]
Imagining Jesus:
How do you like to picture Jesus? Ninja? Lead singer? 8-pound, 6-ounce, newborn infant? Consciously or not, we all have formulated a mental image of Jesus, which we have in mind when we pray or when we talk about Jesus or read Scripture, and we interpret what we hear or read or experience through that image. For example, if my image of Jesus is mainly one of a gentle shepherd always protecting the sheep, then whenever I face difficulty or struggle I’ll naturally assume something is wrong – I wandered away and am now being punished – and I’ll look and expect Jesus to come and rescue me and end this struggle. With that predominant image, I’ll read quickly through the crucifixion story, skim over the suffering, because I’ve associated suffering and struggle with disobedience, as things which should not be present in my life if I’m being obedient, and so they are inconsistent with my predominant image of Jesus as the one who comes to get rid of suffering. Those stories of Jesus’ suffering become exceptions, temporary things that aren’t consistent with who Jesus REALLY is, in my perception of him, and so I rush past them to the victorious Jesus again.
Or maybe my main image of Jesus is of the wise teacher. I come to him to ask questions, always getting a patient, thoughtful response, which leaves me with something deep to ponder as I walk away. With that image I ignore it when Jesus seems frustrated by his disciples’ lack of understanding simple truths, and I downplay the harshness of some of Jesus’ comments to the religious leaders of his day.
Or maybe my main image of Jesus is the best friend, arms always open to hold me and comfort me and tell me everything is going to be ok. What happens then when I need to be disciplined or commanded? Or maybe my main image of Jesus is the Almighty King – strong and powerful – which I will gladly keep at a distance, trying to do what I’m supposed to do so that I don’t attract any attention.
So what am I trying to say? That these are bad, we shouldn’t have them, we should be better than that? No – none of these are inherently wrong. In fact, if we probed and reflected I’m confident we would re-tell great stories of encountering Jesus at a teachable time in a powerful way along the lines of one of those images, and it deeply impacted us. Those formative experiences are how these images became our main images of Jesus. We would and should celebrate those stories! But they come with two problems: first, those images are incomplete. Second, they are static. We’ll come back to those two problems in a moment, but first let’s see that we are not the first group of people to have these problems with our image of Jesus.
Mark 6:1-6
Jesus has begun his public ministry. He’s done some teaching, performed a number of miracles, and people have begun to take notice. It is still very early in Jesus’ ministry, and he returns to his hometown. The place he grew up. Where he was well known, recognized, where he had become a man and apprenticed in his trade and learned and worshiped and eaten and played and done all the things that everyone else had done, for probably 25 years or so. And Jesus does exactly the same thing he had done in the other places he had traveled to. Mark 6:1-6:
“Jesus left that part of the country and returned with his disciples to Nazareth, his hometown. 2 The next Sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed. They asked, “Where did he get all this wisdom and the power to perform such miracles?” 3 Then they scoffed, “He’s just a carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters live right here among us.” They were deeply offended and refused to believe in him.
4 Then Jesus told them, “A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown and among his relatives and his own family.” 5 And because of their unbelief, he couldn’t do any miracles among them except to place his hands on a few sick people and heal them. 6 And he was amazed at their unbelief. Then Jesus went from village to village, teaching the people.”
The first 25 years:
Before diving into the story, what does it say about Jesus that for around 25 years, he lived among these people without them noticing something unusual? Author Michael Frost writes, “How distressing to us that Jesus could be the Messiah, the human incarnation of God, second person of the Trinity for thirty years and no one at home noticed! No one in Nazareth smiles knowingly and says, “I always suspected there was something strange about that kid.” Instead they wonder where he got all this messianic stuff. Somehow Jesus could be fully God and blend into Galilean society – hardly the most pious or sophisticated culture – without creating a ripple.” (Exiles, p. 15, emphasis original).
Amazed, Offended, By-Passed
The story in Mark begins with Jesus’ homecoming, and his going to the synagogue to teach. Same pattern as other places, with initially the same result: “many who heard him were amazed.” A good start, don’t you think? It initially went well, the message was delivered and the people responded, the same great things that happened elsewhere, which demonstrated that the Kingdom of God had arrived in Jesus, were about to happen here in Nazareth as well.
But now we have a problem. This new image doesn’t fit. Despite how “amazing” it was, it was not congruent, because the messenger was not the person they expected. They start to scoff, they look and see Jesus the guy they had always known, the guy who built the table in their house, the guy whose sister married your brother, and they cannot accept that this new Jesus is the real Jesus. “Where did he get all this wisdom and the power to perform such miracles?... He’s just a carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters live right here among us.”
The old image of Jesus the “normal guy” is so incongruent with the Jesus now sitting in the temple, that as the people of Nazareth wrestle with this they actually start to get really upset. The Scripture says, “They were deeply offended”. And there offense becomes obstinance, they “refused to believe in him.” I suggest we do the same, when we are presented with a Jesus who does not fit our default image.
What happens next is fascinating, troubling, and incredibly sad: “because of their unbelief, he couldn’t do any miracles among them except to place his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their unbelief. Then Jesus went from village to village, teaching the people.” What happens next is that Jesus couldn’t do much, except a few healings. Imagine this from Jesus’ perspective – people he had known much of his life, who he cared about and had relationships with, and Jesus sees these people suffering and knows that he has the power to alleviate this suffering and improve the quality of their lives just like he has been doing all over Galilee, but he can’t. Because they refuse to believe. So they miss out, and Jesus has to leave and go somewhere else where people will listen and where he can help.
The people of Nazareth miss out, because their image of Jesus was incomplete and static.
Deconstructing:
As long as our image of Jesus is likewise incomplete and static, we also will miss out. Oh, we are certainly well ahead of the people of Nazareth, our image of Jesus is much better. Our image of Jesus is right, we can back it up with Scripture and our own personal stories as well, all good proof to us that our image of Jesus is right. Or so we think… and that is my point. The people of Nazareth had a right image of Jesus too – he really was “a carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters live right here among us.” That was all true. It was just incomplete – Jesus was that, but so much more! And it was also static – Jesus was only that, and they refused to let Jesus be anything more. And the same is true for us – we get caught in a default, in a rut, in a comfortable place with a comfortable Jesus, with an image of Jesus in our minds that is incomplete, and is generally static. And then, very subtly, we become in control. Jesus is no longer who he really is, but only who we imagine him to be. And then we are in the same place as the people from Nazareth, about to miss out.
So again, am I saying those images of Jesus are wrong and we should get rid of them? Not at all. We just can’t get stuck with them. We can’t assume we know Jesus, have him all figured out, know what to expect and therefore we can evaluate truth and reality based on our predominant image. We have to believe that our images are incomplete, and then refuse to let them be static. Our default images of Jesus are dangerous to us if they go unrecognized in ourselves, because if we don’t see what our “default” image is and how it influences the way we hear Scripture, the way we pray, the way we understand ourselves and our situations, the way we live on a day to day basis, we will be just like the people of Nazareth – unable to accept Jesus for who he really is. Do you see how this can be dangerous? If, for example, our default image of Jesus is the one who blesses us with a good life, we live day to day wanting to keep and enjoy our good life, and then serving others becomes an optional addition which, when we do it, often comes out of our desire to not put our good life in jeopardy by upsetting Jesus. Then we can’t hear Jesus when he calls us to “take up our cross daily”, or when he says, “whoever wants to save his life must lose it”.
Re-Imagining:
Enough “de-constructing”; I want to lead us into communion with something forward-looking. What would it mean for you to re-imagine Jesus? Again, I’m not talking about throwing out the old image, I’m just talking about not letting it be the only one, and not letting it change. I’ll tell you what I think it would mean for us to re-imagine Jesus: fresh encounter with Jesus. Ok, you are thinking, but how do we do that? Two simple ways: in Scripture, and in prayer. Alone, and together. Yes, those same old, same old disciplines. Which I keep coming back to, and which we all need to keep coming back to as well.
Are you reading Scripture? The stories of Jesus, the writings of the Apostles who knew Jesus in person and could explain him to us, the writings of the prophets who went before and pointed ahead to Jesus. I’m not talking about some simple daily reading program where you can do it and then check off that box for the day, but I’m talking about reading the stories of Jesus with the question, “Who does this say Jesus is?” front and center. And consciously comparing the picture of Jesus in the Scripture with our default image of Jesus. Of doing that on your own, and doing it with others as well.
And what about prayer? Where is that discipline in your life – confined to meal time or times of need? If so, that will be incredibly powerful in shaping your default image of Jesus. Here my challenge is that we expand our image of the God to whom we pray. Yours is probably not as blatant as Ricky Bobby’s “tiny infant baby God”, but it may be just as pervasive. Let’s broaden it – pray to Jesus the healer, pray to Jesus who suffers on the cross, pray to Jesus who weeps at Lazarus’ tomb, pray to Jesus as he laughs at the party at the sinner’s house. Then enlarge it again, and pray to God the Father. Pray to God the creator. Pray to God the judge. Pray to God the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. Pray to the Holy Spirit, who brings power. Pray to the Holy Spirit who brings conviction of sin. Pray to the Holy Spirit who shapes us, sometimes by hacking off huge pieces that are ugly, sometimes using 60grit sandpaper, sometimes by gently forming wet clay.
And let us come to both Scripture, and prayer, with an openness. To let God speak in new ways, through His word and through our prayers, so that our life is not narrow and static, but instead open to the incredible possibilities of a dynamic, complete God, actively loving us and then excitedly loving our world through us.
