The Historical Jesus: Who Do You Say that I am?

Jesus and his disciples were on the road to Caesarea Philippi when he asked them, ‘Who do people say I am?’ his disciples replied, ‘some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and still others, one of the prophets.’ Jesus then asked, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ And Peter boldly claimed, ‘You are the Christ.’[1] The story quickly turned sour for what was a moment of recognition for Peter turns into a reproach as Jesus calls him Satan for wanting to convince him to follow his own idea of what a messiah’s fate should be. These two questions Jesus asked his disciples are still echoing throughout history today. In many ways, we can answer these questions like the disciples did or like Peter. On the one hand, there are many voices still today that proclaim who Jesus is just as the disciples offered many opinions; on the other hand, there is Peter’s faith assertion. However, we can declare in faith like Peter that Jesus is Lord and in the next breath want to change Jesus into our own idea of who God should be. The search for the historical Jesus places the question, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ at the center of the search.

John Meier sums up his life work on the value of studying the historical Jesus with the following claims. He asserts that the search for the Jesus of history does attempt to prove faith (for that is impossible.) He points to the value there is in understanding something by taking into account the processes of history. In addition, he asserts that the Jesus of history takes seriously the scandal of the Word made flesh and it helps us to avoid any tendency to evaporate Jesus into a ‘timeless gnostic or a mythic symbol.’ The search for the historical Jesus also prevents us from adopting ideologies that seem to capture his essence—for he is in nature eschatological, an end in itself nor a means to anything else. Finally, Meier claims that all these measures serve as a catalyst for renewing theological thought and Church life.[2] In the effort to see the significance in partaking of the discovery of the Jesus of history let us further four of Meier’s  arguments: mainly that Jesus was shaped by his historical context and the study of the Jesus of history allows us to better know not only who Jesus was historically but also help us better understand his message, that our Christological statements of faith are grounded in the doctrine of the incarnation and by encountering the Jesus of history we are able to fully embrace this mystery, that by searching for historical Jesus we avoid turning Jesus into an ideology, and that the process of searching for historical Jesus serves as a catalyst or life-giving gift to the Church. Jesus’ question, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ finds deeper meanings as we meet Jesus in history.

At the fundamental level, the search for the historical Jesus allows us to simply understand who Jesus was taking fully into consideration his Palestinian-Jewish-first-century context. Often times, this means stripping Jesus of a Christian understanding and inserting him into the Jewish environment where he lived. In The Misunderstood Jew, Amy-Jill Levine lays out the risk of interpreting Jesus’ words and deeds from a Christian perspective. Levine explains there are two risks in doing so, first in that the scriptures may create anti-sematic attitudes, and second in that a neglect of Jesus’ Jewishness fails to take the doctrine of the incarnation seriously.[3] In the effort to answer the question, Who do you say that I am? We may resemble Peter and reflect our own wishes or biases of who we want Jesus to be. Encountering the historical Jesus allows us to reflect on this answer. If we fail to take into account the Jewish context of Jesus, we distort who Jesus is and sustains incorrect notions that are simply not historical. Levine claims these notions of Jesus are still proclaimed from the pulpit today. Beliefs that Jesus was against the law or at least how it was understood at the time, that he was against the Temple as an institution and not simply against its leadership, that he was against the people of Israel and favored Gentiles, that he was a rebel who unlike every other Jew, practiced social justice, that he was the only one to speak to women, to teach non-violent responses to oppression or to care for the poor and marginalized.[4] Often, Christians are too quick to remove Jesus from his place and time in history in order to openly criticize Judaism so that Jesus may stand apart from his object of criticism. By not taking into account Jesus’ historical context we not only create erroneous views but also support them and transmit them.

In the pursuit of the Jesus of history, we are invited to deepen our knowledge on the doctrine of the incarnation. The mystery of the incarnation substantiates all efforts to know the historical Jesus. As Christians, we believe that Jesus was fully human. Many are quick to disregard this doctrine of faith in the fear that it might take away Jesus’ divinity. The value on knowing about Jesus’ human side is evident—it provides a physical method of coming to know Jesus. If historians were to answer the question, ‘Who do you say I am?’ they can answer this question with a lot of degree of certainty. Most scholars would agree that Jesus was a Palestinian Jew who was born in Galilea, he gathered disciples, taught and preached and was great in deeds and actions, the center of his message was the Kingdom of God, and he was put to death because he was considered a threat to Jewish authorities. Without making extraordinary claims, historians could assert on these principles on the life of Jesus. A person of faith however, finds value in stepping into first century Palestine to be able to rejoice in knowing about a loved one. The mystery of the incarnation allows us to see, feel, hear, touch and taste what Jesus himself experienced. The value for a person who seeks to answer, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ in faith, is to get closer to the human Jesus as an act of love and in response to see God-in-all-things that are human.

The process of knowing the Jesus of history not only transforms us personally but it also transforms us as a Church—communally. Meier warns us against tendencies to make of Jesus a timeless gnostic or a mythic symbol or to turn him into an ideology that fits our world-view. This is still a reality today. For many Jesus is reduced to a leftist-communist, a mythological figure, an indifferent deity or a self-soothing idea, not only ignoring Jesus’ personhood but making him an idol in an effort to support a cause. In the same way that we may encounter our own personal biases when we look at the Jesus of the gospels, we can also run into conventional ideologies supported by zealots, dogmatists or enthusiasts that seek to sum Jesus into a single thought. The community of believers, the Church, halts these groups and their tendencies in the process of the search of the Jesus of history. In the beginning of Christianity, these ideologies were much more evident perhaps, emphasizing the divinity and neglecting the humanity of Jesus for instance, or visa-versa. However, they still surface today in different shapes and forms. Meier teaches us that by searching the historical Jesus we encounter his personhood to be eschatological in essence, ‘that is, always pointing farther toward the ultimate meaning of who he is and what it means to be human’. [5]Nothing can sum up who Jesus is or what he stands for—for he is an end-in-it-self and the kingdom is here-but-not-fully-here.

All of these processes are a catalyst and a self-giving gift from and to the Church. It is the faithful who harvest the seeds and they too reap its fruits. The search for the historical Jesus provides individual and communal transformation—it enriches our response to the question ‘Who do you say that I am?’ It encourages the faithful to challenge our initial understandings of who Jesus is according to the gospels in order to destroy the idols we make, it invites us to openly embrace the mystery of the incarnation fully, that we may see Christ in-all-things-human, it provides a powerful tool to resist current ideologies that seek to capsule Jesus into an -ism, and it gives us life by constantly renewing our love and commitment to the journey of knowing and being transformed by Jesus. In our efforts to answer the question, ‘Who do you say that I am? It is not enough that we may declare Jesus is Lord, for we might commit blasphemy in our next breath. Instead, the question demands a serious look at our declarations of faith, it motivates us to study their origin, it encourages us to challenge our initial understanding of scripture and in the process it transforms us and refines our notion of the Jesus we know in faith.

The Gospel According to Paul: Justification in Faith and Life in the Spirit

One cannot speak of Pauline theology without taking into consideration two major facts about Paul’s life: first his conversion and second his vocation prior to this conversation. It is in the radical encounter with the risen Lord on the road to Damascus that Paul begins his mission, making this event the starting point of departure for Paul’s ministry and Christian theological

thought. Paul believed in the resurrection of the dead prior to this event and the encounter with the risen Lord only confirmed this belief and it affirmed for him that Jesus was the messiah (Ludwig, 123). His violent conversion-experience marked him for life, but Paul’s personality and work prior to this event also provide insights on his theology. In Acts of the Apostles and in some of the letters attributed to him, we come to know that Paul is a Jew (2 Cor. 11:22) and moreover an educated Jew on religious matters. Paul is well versed in the Torah and a zealot proclaiming it. (Gal 1:14). His upbringing, education and life-work put him in a paradox with his encounter with the risen Lord. This irony is clear. Paul traversed the same towns as Jesus, yet never met him, he persecuted Christians and then is called to be a Christian apostle and he was a zealot for the law and now encounters the risen Lord that stands above it. This paradox speaks to much of Paul’s opposing themes in his writings. Paul uses juxtapositions in order to make intellectual claims. In many ways, his writings reflect the paradox he experienced in life. In his writings, he speaks of law and grace, Jew and gentile, circumcised and uncircumcised, life in the flesh and life in the spirit, death and new creation, slavery and freedom, fruits of the spirit and fruits of the flesh, reconciliation and alienation, salvation in faith and salvation in works. Of all of these opposite themes that are product of Paul’s theological thought, two stand above all: Justification through faith in Christ and life in the spirit are the two fundamental themes that Paul uses in all of his writings and form part of his main theological thought. 

Justification through Faith in Christ

Paul sews a theological thread throughout his entire correspondence in the New Testament on the theme of justification through faith in Christ. It is in his the letter to the Romans that we can find Paul’s gospel in its entirety and his argument for justification laid out elegantly. First, it is important to understand what Paul means by justification. The word comes out of the context of a law court and

could be translated today as acquittal (Ludwig, 129). Often, justification is also used interchangeably with salvation. It is also fundamental to understand Paul’s outlook on the human race, since the argument found in Romans is a complete theological position on the history of salvation culminating in Christ. For Paul, sin is a religious and not a moral act (Johnson, 309). Sin is a turning away from God’s will, it is a life orientation, a rebellion, a boasting, a self-aggrandizement and Paul sums up this state-of-being by often referring to it as living according to the flesh. In short, it is our human condition to be sinful and because of it we are in need to be justified. In fact in Romans, Paul claims, ‘There is no one just, not one, there is no one who understands, there is no one who seeks God. All have gone astray; all alike are worthless; there is not one who does good, (there is not) even one” (Rom. 3:10-12). The argument then proceeds, because all have sin, Jew and gentile alike, all have access to justification through faith in Jesus. The Law alone cannot save. Through justification all are made righteous and reconciled with God (5:10). The letter continues with a powerful and yet simple message, justification through faith in Christ transforms. This gift we have received has real implications in our life and it demands change, ‘for the love of God has been poured into our hearts,’ (5:5) so that we may put to death the sins of the body (8:13) leading to a newness in life grounded on radical hope (8:22). The change that comes as a product of justification through faith in Jesus in the life of a believer, Paul calls life in the spirit. 

The response to the Romans to live in faith is far from a superficial assertion. Paul’s convocation to live in the spirit as one who is reconciled with God has ethical dimensions. Paul tells the Romans that this transformation must be revealed in works. In other words, there must be clear signs of Christian living that demonstrate a life lived in the spirit. As this transformation seeks what is perfect, ‘Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect’ (Rom 12:2). It is here that Paul mirrors directly Jesus’ gospel according to Matthew in the works of salvation (Getty, 224). His culmination of the life in the spirit as it is lived in the Christian life is found in Romans chapters 12-15 and it is summed up by the blessing of all, especially those who persecute you. He commands Romans to love one another in a genuine love, in a love that is mutual and perfect (12:9-21) for love is the fulfillment of the law (13:10); for a life of those who live in faith is expressed in mutual love and acceptance of one another. (Johnson, 321).

Life According to the Spirit

The life in the spirit, or the life of God, is a powerful theme for Paul. In his correspondence to the Galatians, he argues that the life in the spirit begins with the freedom received by Christ referring to the insignificance and bondage of circumcision (Gal.5:4). Instead, it is faith working through love that sets us free (Gal 5:6). It is here that Paul sums up the life in the spirit by the word agape—a love that builds up and is expressed in joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 6:22).

While the letter to the Galatians lays out Paul’s theological thought on the life in the spirit as it begins with freedom in order to serve one another in love, the letter to the Corinthians points out to the dimension of transformation that is demanded when one is committed to the life in the spirit. In the first century AD, Corinth was a metropolis and cosmopolitan society. Jews and gentiles found Christianity appealing for different reasons. As an infant Christian community, some of the challenges they faced were spiritual elitism which led to factionalism (Johnson, 264). The communities overemphasized the powers given by the spirit, causing them to identify themselves by the spiritual gift they had received. Paul’s response is drastic but it provides a clear vision of his theological outlook on Christian life. He demands two things from the Corinthians: first that they transform to be of the same mind (1 Cor. 1:10) and second, that they acquire the mind of Christ (2: 16). Those who accept this calling will put their gifts in service to the entire community, for the primary gift of the spirit is love (1 Cor.13:1-13) and its main manifestation is the building up of the entire community (Johnson, 268).

Pauls’ correspondence to the Galatians and to the Corinthians lay out a theological foundation of the life in the spirit. The life in the spirit as Paul understands it begins with the freedom received by Christ. This freedom is not to be distorted in order to neglect the law and be replaced with self-indulgence, but rather we are set free to serve one another in love. Agape—a love that builds up, is the measurement of our justification, is the measurement of our freedom, and is the measurement of our spiritual gifts.

We can see two real examples of Christian living in how Paul responds pastorally to his communities. In Corinth, the dispute between those Paul called ‘strong’ and those he called ‘weak’ demand a communal response. While Paul sides with the ‘strong’ supporting their thinking (a thinking that rejects being subject to idols), he criticizes them as spiritual solipsists and reminds them that to live in the spirit should lead them to build up the ‘weak’ (Johnson, 268). However, in Galatians, Paul speaks to the personal response to the life in the spirit. The Galatians’ aggrandizement attitude toward freedom led them to antinomianism—the notion that they were saved by faith alone (Johnson, 299). Paul urges the Galatians to retract from perverting their freedom gained by Christ.  This response is personal speaking to the conscience of the individual. 

Implications in Ministry

            The themes of justification through faith in Christ and life in the spirit that compose Paul’s gospel mirror the gospel of Jesus Christ. Paul boldly claims that a transformative relationship with the risen Lord should come first, and without it the Christian life is dead. But the gospel also has implications in our personal and communal lives so that we may hope in Christ and serve and build up our communities. 

The first practical application of understanding Paul’s theology in my ministry is that it gives me the ability to be in dialogue with non-Catholic. Many Christians receive a particular understanding of salvation through faith in Christ. For instance, they often emphasize the individual journey of the Christian faith and often base it on the Letter to the Romans. I believe my role and response in dialogue is to invite Christians that embrace this theology to see Paul fully. This reflection allows me to re-direct this understanding of Paul to the demands of justification as we see in Romans, First Corinthians and Galatians. Not only to challenge Christians of all denominations to reflect in the personal relationship with the risen Lord, but to point to the measurement of this relationship in the building up of their communities—starting with the present community that they find themselves in. 

This new understanding from which to see Paul speaks to my own faith deeply as well. The theological dispute between Catholics and Protestants on salvation becomes now a personal calling to enrich the conversation further. By studying Paul, the claim that salvation is through faith alone must be supported by the entire thought of Paul’s theology not only in Romans but also throughout all correspondence attributed to him. The claim of salvation through faith alone must respond to what Paul calls life in the spirit. Justification through faith in Jesus must also answer to how Paul describes the Christian life that originates from living the life in the spirit. In other words, the measurement of justification—must be what Paul calls agape, a love that builds an entire community. 

            Finally, the Christian journey is not merely empty intellectual and theological discussion but a personal commitment to live to these ideals. Understanding Paul in a new light pose the question of whether I am living up to the standard of what he describes as the Christian life. Paul utters Jesus and therefore he reiterates the challenge to love enemies as a clear sign of what it means to be Christian. This statement is a challenge to anyone whoever comes across it. In my own life, to love enemies as Paul refers to it by addressing the Romans, Corinthians and Galatians, has a lot to do with my interactions with those who I do not agree with. As Paul describes intentionally, Greek and Jew belong to the Body of Christ and all are called as a community to do both: establish and hope for the kingdom of God.