Church as Mission: Towards an Ecclesiology of Mission

In his article “Mission as the Nature of the Church: Developments in Catholic Ecclesiology,” theologian Stephen Bevans addresses the impact that Second Vatican Council is having in the understanding of Church. Bevans argues that Vatican II redefined ecclesiology through missiology. Vatican II defined the Church by what the Church is called to do: mission. The claim comes from the Decree on the Church’s Missionary Activity, Ad Gentes that reads, “The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature, since it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she draws her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father” (AG 2).

Bevans argues that Vatican II defines Church by mission because the entire Council places mission as its unifying theme among all of its documents. Bevans claims that the Four Constitutions drafted at Vatican II, mainly, The Constitution on the Church, The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, 

The Constitution on Divine Revelation and The Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, begin with mission related statements. Lumen Gentium, The Constitution on the Church, states the missionary commission in its opening paragraph. It reads: “Christ the light of the nations and consequently this holy synod, gathered together in the Holy Spirit, ardently desired to bring to all humanity that light of Christ which is resplendent on the face of the church, by proclaiming his Gospel to every creature” (LG 1). In Sacrosanctum Concilum, The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, we hear that the purpose of the council is to propel the Church into mission by increasing vigor in Christian life, encouraging change among institutions, promoting unity among believers, and welcoming all into the Church:

The sacred council has set out to impart an ever-increasing vigor to the Christian lives of the faithful; to adapt more closely to the needs of our age those institutions which are subject to change; to encourage whatever can promote the union of all who believe in Christ; to strengthen whatever serves to call all of humanity into the church’s fold’ (SC 1).

In Dei Verbum, the Constitution on Divine Revelation, the council, in its opening paragraph, also announces a call to mission for all the faithful: “it (church) wants the whole world to hear the summons of salvation, so that through hearing it may believe, through belief it may hope, through hope it may come to love” (DV 1). And finally, in Gaudium Spes, The Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, the Council declares an encounter between the Church bearing salvation through its mission to all of humanity: “...for theirs is a community of people united in Christ and guided by the holy Spirit in their pilgrimage towards the Father’s kingdom, bearers of a message of salvation for all humanity”(GS 1).   

Having proposed that the Council be interpreted in a missiology-theology approach, the article then mentions the advancements made by the Church in this regard. Bevans quotes, Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975), Redemptoris Missio (1990) and Evangelii Gaudium (2013) as post Council papal exhortations that shape the same understanding of Church defined by mission. In Evangelii Nuntiandi, Bevans claims that the message is reiterated: “evangelizing is in fact the grace and vocation proper to the Church, its deepest identity. It exists to evangelize” (EN 13). In Redemtoris Missio, John Paul II claims that while the Church is not separate from God’s Reign, it is distinct from it. The task of the Church is to announce and inaugurate God’s Reign. In Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis reiterates once more the same understanding of Church by describing the Church as a community of missionary disciples, an evangelizing community and a missionary communion.

Bevan’s article continues to speak of church-as-mission beyond a Post Vatican II period. It draws from Hans Kung’s work The Church, wherein he claims that the Church is not to be identified with the Reign of God—it is rather its servant. Richard P. McBrien and Anglican John A.T. Robinson follow the same mission-theology approach to ecclesiology. Bevans references Peruvian theologian Gustavo Gutierrez in his work Liberation Theology, a work that describes a totally new ecclesiology perspective that ‘un-centered’ the Church from preoccupation with itself and centered it on God’s saving work. This theological perspective was pushed further by US theologian Roger Haight, quoting British Theologian Adrian Hastings, claims: “It is somewhat misleading to speak about the Church as having a mission—as if the existence of the Church comes first; on the contrary it is because of the mission that there is a church” (Bevans 194).

            Bevan’s “Mission as the Nature of the Church: Developments in Catholic Ecclesiology” is extremely influential to my own understanding of church not only because it provides a thorough examination of Vatican II’s understanding of church-as-mission, but also because it provides a continuation of this interpretation that we still see today.

In addition, Bevan’s church-as-mission provides a life-giving definition that is rooted in Trinitarian theology. This means that the very identity of God is not in Himself—but in the activity of going out to the other. It is because God sends the Son, and the Son sends the Spirit, that the Trinity is mission. God’s own self is defined by His ‘going out’ to Himself and to the world. Hence, in my personal belief and reflection on this concept, the understanding of church-as-mission is one that is rooted in the Trinity itself and in the very identity of who God is.

Bevan’s article also provides me with a broader understanding of church. To understand church-as-mission, the question is not where or who is the Church? Although this question is at the heart of ecclesiology, it secludes and excludes. Instead, church-as-mission is more concerned with asking: is the Church faithful to its mission? Or put simply, are we really being the Church? This model of church is less concerned with setting rigid parameters of membership and truth and more concerned with propelling itself outwardly in service and love. This model does not ignore the question: where is the Church? It rather answers it by saying, the Church is any place where the Gospel is proclaimed and the Kingdom of God is lived.

Church-as-mission also reshapes the structure of the Church to better suit the mission which it has been entrusted by Jesus Christ. Any structure of the church should aim at contributing to its mission. Often, the structure of the Church has led many to believe that the Church exists for its own self-preservation and self-aggrandizement. This model has led to the problem of clericalism for instance, where the religious are perceived as academics distant from the everyday life of the faithful. Mission-as-church departs from this model and challenges any structure to be a means and not an end in itself. This includes the Church itself and any structure or system of governance it declares.

By placing mission over church, a church-as-mission understanding of church reshapes the nature of ministries. Pope Francis in Evangelii Gaudium claims, “the Church herself is a missionary disciple” (EG 40), and calls the Church and therefore all ministries within it, to “be in a permanent state of mission” (EG 25). The exhortation invites the Church not only to rethink its structure as it facilitates its mission, but also every ministry it professes in virtue of belonging to the Church. Evangelii Gaudium asks for an ecclesial renewal of ecclesial ministries and encourages and inspires lay ministry to live out their baptismal call—echoing Lumen Gentium.  This renewal must be marked by the Church’s fidelity to her very unique calling.

Religion in the Age of Secularism

Religion in the United States is gradually losing an ongoing battle with secularism. A recent study by Pew Research not only shows that people identified as non-religious are growing, but they are in fact becoming even more secular. The same organization made a study to find out why people were leaving their faith tradition. While everyone’s experience is unique in the decision, the study was able to find some common ground in the responses. The number one reason being a lack of belief, led many to abandon their faith. The study drew this response from many that referred to this experience or decision as, growing out of the faith, the use of common sense or logic, and science as the ultimate factor that led them away from belief. Other reasons included a dislike of organized religion, no need for religion, or religion being too much like a business.

It is clear that we live in a secular age and studies like this one only suggest it is growing in the United States. Much of the response from religious groups however has been counter-productive. Often, I read headlines in articles that proclaim religion is being persecuted or that people of faith are being harassed. (Must of them from Catholic sources) This sort of response does not help religion as a whole, nor does it help people of faith. It further antagonizes religion and secularism by placing them at a contradiction. Pope Francis constantly reminds us of the welcoming response Christians should offer atheists. After all, he even claimed that atheists that followed their conscience are welcome in heaven too!

Religion and secularism are in contention with one another because secularism has leveled the playing field. In the past, religion had always the upper hand simply by being married to divine rule. Now, in democratic states, religion is no longer able to exercise this type of influence. Naturally, religion is losing some of its power and influence and this has shown in how it communicates beliefs to people, leading many to leave their faith traditions. More so, in a postmodern age, any single narrative is not only questioned but abandoned for being too rigid and simplistic.

Instead of focusing too much on the problem of why so many are fleeing Church pews and exchanging them for just about anything, a better approach is to propose an alternative for a response. Notice I did not mention solution because firstly, that would be too overconfident but mainly because it is a suggestion. First, religion does not have to be at opposition with secularism. This might sound like a contradiction itself—but I believe firmly is not. For religions to exist they must co-exist with other religions and this includes secularism. Religion must dialogue with secularism and find common-ground. Secularism for instance, does not abandon ethics and morality. Christians can speak of ethics and morality from a Christian point of view. An absence of religion does not mean an absence of good—sometimes the biggest obstacle for dialogue and understanding is semantics!

Most importantly, people of faith must really ask the question: Why do I want to pass down my faith? I believe firmly that religion is most authentic, and therefore attractive, when it is radical. This word gets a bad rep but it is used intentionally here. There is an aspect of religion that is crazy—but crazy for love and good. To love those who hate me? To pray for those who want to hurt me? What else would you call this type of behavior—stupid and crazy! But faith demands this from us. People are drawn to this type of religion. They recognize its authenticity, they see the fruits that it brings, they admire it, and they yearn to be moved by it.  

And so in this era of secularism people of faith can dialogue with it and find common ground and in the process find out that alienation is not an option. Instead, people of faith can find that in dialogue partners are made and that Jesus did not close the doors on those of little faith, but was harsher with those who called themselves self-righteous. But people of faith can also attract by example. By living lives so radically that it leads other people not only to see the good in religion but to partake in the journey of faith as well. 

The Cost of Discipleship in Luke: A Radical and Daily Commitment, and a Hatred of Possessions

Luke’s Gospel originates approximately around 80 CE and 90 CE, the same time in which Matthew’s gospel was written. After The Jewish War of 66-70 CE, Christians spread throughout the Roman Empire. Luke finds himself writing to these highly diversified communities that had survived the war and had gone into exile. Among these groups, Luke addresses a particular group called ‘God-Fearers’ who followed Jewish beliefs and practices. (Ludwig, 164) Luke, like Matthew, addresses the Hellenistic Jewish Christian mission to the Gentile world, but is particularly concerned with Gentile Christians. (Ludwig, 184) Throughout his gospel, Luke offers numerous passages on discipleship. As with all gospel writers, the context in which the writer finds himself in shapes his writing and therefore the meaning he tries to convey. For instance, Mark finds himself writing after the destruction of the Temple in 60 CE to a community in distress. Because of this, he stresses the helplessness of disciples to remind his readers of the hidden glory of God. Mark’s eschatological revelation is concealed from the disciples. Instead, Luke writes for Hellenistic Christians spread throughout the Roman Empire who are no longer concerned with the parousia, or second coming. Luke’s community is not primarily concerned with eschatological purposes. Because of this, there is a theological shift for Luke’s community. Instead, Luke’s community is concerned with the semeron (this day or daily affairs). (Plessis, 62) Due to the context in which Luke finds himself and the present condition his community faces, discipleship is more of a daily commitment, an existential decision for Luke. (Plessis, 58)

The structure of Luke’s gospel is also particular. Luke uses three sources to write his gospel. The first, also found in Matthew’s gospel, is material borrowed from Mark’s gospel. (Ludwig, 183) The second source can be seen when Luke, like Matthew, uses an independent source of Jesus’ sayings called ‘Q’. In the text Luke also provides his own independent, and third, source, ‘L’ not found in Mark or Matthew. (Ludwig, 183) It is essential to point out here that the Gospel of Luke and Acts of the Apostles are to be considered two volumes of a single literary project. (Johnson, 187) The author wrote both volumes with the intention of it to be part of one single message: Salvation History. The outline of Luke’s gospel can be divided into the following: Prologue (Lk.1: 1-4); Infancy Narratives (1:5—2:52); Preparation of Jesus’ ministry (3:1—4:13); Jesus’ ministry in Galilee (4:14—9:50); Journey to Jerusalem (9:51—19:27); Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem (19:28—21:38); Passion of Jesus (22:1—23:56); and the Resurrection of Jesus (23:56b—24:53). (Perkins, 215) 

            As with any literary analysis of a text, a term must be seen through the lens of a major theme or motif. For instance, Luke’s gospel has Jerusalem as one theme. This theme serves as a geographical structure for the entire gospel. The center of the story is the city of Jerusalem, the infancy narratives lead to the presentation of Jesus at the temple (2:22); the climax of the temptation narrative is reached at Jerusalem (4:9); the transfiguration and end of the Galilean ministry prepare Jesus to go to Jerusalem, and even the resurrection appearances take place in the environs of Jerusalem. (Johnson, 194) Naturally, this theme affects how Luke perceives discipleship. As an example, Jesus’ sayings on discipleship in Luke 9:23-27; 9:57-62; 14:25-35 (under consideration later) are substantially shaped by this theme.  We now turn to these passages.

The Meaning of Discipleship in the Text

Luke 9:23-27; 9:57-62; 14:25-35

            Luke touches on the theme of discipleship explicitly in Luke: 9:23-27; 9:57-62; 14:25-35. From these three passages it is clear Luke intends to communicate the hardship of discipleship. In all three passages Luke highlights nuances in the conditions and demands for discipleship not found in the other synoptic gospels, indicating the emphasis he places in the difficulty of the demands of this world. In the following section these passages will be carefully studied to further develop the notion of discipleship in Luke’s gospel—and how it can be considered radical.

Luke 9:23-27 is the first passage in his gospel to address the conditions of discipleship. The pericope is borrowed from Mark and it also appears in Matthew. In Luke’s version however, there is an addition in v23 not found in Mark or Matthew: ‘daily.’ This first pericope that outlines the radical dedication to follow Jesus to the point of ‘denying oneself’ is shaped by Luke’s meaning of discipleship, a daily and existential commitment. (Plessis, 58) The stipulation clarifies that Jesus is not referring to how one is ‘born-again’ or justified before God (as it is with some Pauline-theology) but instead, discipleship requires one to ‘deny oneself’ and to ‘take up his cross’ in a commitment one undergoes daily. (Tanker, 48) This understanding of discipleship as a daily-commitment is echoed in Acts, "Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God." (Acts 14:22)

The word ‘deny’ in v23 asserts Luke’s radical notion of discipleship. The Hebrew (άπαρνέομαι) can be interpreted in two ways: first as ‘to refuse to recognize or to acknowledge someone’ and second, as ‘to act in a wholly selfless manner.’ (Tanker, 48) The word first used in Mark, and then copied in Matthew and Luke, is used to express the latter. In the passage, deny oneself becomes a way-of-being, it is a demand to place God’s will first, and one’s own second. For Luke, a disciple is someone who constantly (daily) is seeking to place God’s will as his or her priority, above one’s own.

The verse continues to provide the most radical condition of discipleship in the words that follow, ‘take up your cross and follow me,’(v23) which imply a commitment not only to deny one’s will daily, but to do so willing to face even death. This verse found in Mark and Matthew is deliberately placed in all synoptic gospels for the same purpose. The writers are speaking to a group of early Christians and, or, Jews, that had a clear notion and understanding of a death by cross. By placing these words in Jesus’ mouth and equating it to a condition of discipleship, the authors are conveying the message of suffering, and even death, as a result of being a disciple. Luke intentionally places this pericope in the journey narrative. (Luke 9:51—19:44) Jesus gives these requirements for discipleship on his journey to Jerusalem with his own death in mind.  While the disciples are clueless on the literal meaning of this command, (although Jesus reminds them several times in Lk. 9:51; 13:22; 17:11; 19:11, 28) the community Luke addresses is very mindful of the meaning of Jesus’ words. Luke Johnson sums up the intentionality of Luke, ‘this travel motif gives the entire section a dynamic quality and renders more dramatic the calls to discipleship.’ (Johnson, 204) In other words, Jesus invites his disciples to be willing to model what he is about to do, to die on a cross as a means to be a disciple.

The second pericope under consideration is found in Luke 9:57-62. This pericope outlines three conditions to become a ‘follower’ or disciple of Jesus. In Luke 9:23-27 Jesus address his disciples in monologue but in 9:57-62 we find a dialogue between Jesus and three followers-to-be. In the dialogue Jesus harshly rejects the three followers-to-be for different reasons. The afore-mentioned passage serves to reinforce Luke’s radical notion of discipleship yet again.

 Also found in Matthew 8:20, as in Luke 9:57-62, the first follower-to-be precipitately announces his wish to follow Jesus, to which Jesus replies with an extreme call to renouncement of security and well-being as a fundamental requirement of discipleship. In other words, the first condition is the willingness to let go of security as the price of discipleship. (v58) (Plessis, 63) This verse speaks of detachment; to follow Jesus means to not only to embrace the hardship of discipleship, but to renounce our own false sense of security. Then, Jesus invites the next follower-to-be who accepts but places a provision: He needs to bury his father first. Jesus rejects this provision severely by saying ‘let the dead bury their dead, but you go proclaim the Kingdom of God.’ (v60) It was part of Jewish custom to bury the dead, a sign of piety and responsibility. To neglect the dead was an exceptional disgrace at the time. Therefore Jesus’ response was a strong threat to Jewish sentiments. (Hays, 50) This second condition demands both the sacrifice of cultural demands to be a disciple of Jesus, and the willingness to face opposition for it. (Plessis, 63) But the third and last demand is perhaps the most challenging of all three. The third condition found in v63 speaks of a man who declares his wish to become a disciple but then quickly finds a priority over the call—a simple goodbye to his loved ones. Jesus again rejects any excuse, for loved ones come second when one is committed to being a disciple. (Plessis, 63) For Luke’s understanding of discipleship, this is not an excuse. This last verse (v62) also highlights the supremacy of Jesus over Elijah. The verse is reference to a passage found in Elijah 19:20—where Elijah allows his disciple Elisha to kiss his parents goodbye, whereas Jesus sets harder conditions and a more radical degree of commitment for his disciples. (Hays, 53)

Luke continues to develop his radical understanding of discipleship in Luke 14: 25-35. The opening of the passages tells us that Jesus addresses a large crowd and delivers a devastating one-liner. In v26 Jesus claims that a measure of discipleship is to hate family members and even one’s own life. The verse is also found in Matthew 10:47 with nuances in Luke. Perhaps the major difference being that Luke uses hate whereas Matthew expresses it as ‘if you love (them) more than me’ you are not worthy to be a disciple. Another difference is that in Matthew’s version, the condition is given only to the twelve (Matthew 10:1-42), whereas Luke addresses a ‘large crowd’ (v25) that was following him. The passage in Luke is placed strategically after Jesus announces several times his passion and death (Luke 9: 22, 44) serving again as a demand on discipleship. Luke’s notion of discipleship is radical not because it uses hate to delineate the intricacies of an unbearable demand, but because it maximizes the choice on the commitment and allegiance that being a disciple requires. Matthew’s version ‘love more than me’ softens the radical commitment to follow Jesus. While Luke’s word choice of hate dramatically indicates that the decision to follow Jesus places everything at opposition. It is necessary here to explain that Jesus does not intend for his disciples to hate loved-ones, but uses the word to emphasize two things: the choice, and its priority.  Brisson states, ‘Hate may be understood, then, as the call "to choose between" or "to have one's life prioritized accordingly to" that which must be privileged above all other things.’(Brisson, 312) He explains further, “Much of the term is used in the Wisdom tradition, when choosing the "fear" of God necessarily requires its antithesis, the "hatred" of evil, not as a destructive response to evil but as a refusal to offer to evil one's allegiance. (312)  

Luke’s Concern for the Poor

There is a clear theme on the concern for the poor in Luke’s gospel. (Luke 4:18; 6:20-23; 7:36-50; 14:12-14; 15:1-32; 16:19-31; 18:9-14; 19:1-10; 21:1-4) And by the same token condemning those who place their material wealth above God. (Luke 6:24-26; 12:13-21; 16:13-15; 19-31; 18:9-14; 15-25) The calling of disciples includes a verse that Luke uses repeatedly: ‘leave everything.’ Luke’s account to call Peter, John and James as a disciple ends with, ‘so they pulled up their boats to the shore, left everything and followed him.’ (Luke 5, 11) Levi ‘left everything’ (5:28) and rose and followed him. These passages highlight this requirement of discipleship. In Luke 9:23-27, Jesus once again assigns possessions as a detriment to discipleship. In v24 He uses the word profit to associate it with wealth and money. Then, He compares the gaining of wealth to a man who would ‘lose or forfeit himself’ in the world. In the followers-to-be pericope, the first condition is associated with the renouncement of security, and therefore possessions. (Luke 9: 58) Similarly Luke 13:25-35 ends with ‘every one of you 

who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.’(v33) Luke places parables after the sayings on discipleship, implying that these are for all disciples to hear. Among them he places Luke 16:9-13, tying wealth with dishonesty and the final premonition in (v13); ‘You cannot serve God and money. But perhaps, the most straightforward tie of the condition to denounce possession to discipleship is found in Luke 18:23, where Jesus meets a wealthy man and invites him to follow him. The condition is simple, ‘sell all that you have and distribute it to the poor.’ (v22). 

Not only is leaving everything, leaving all, or renouncing all possessions condition of discipleship but it is also the nature of the mission. In Luke 9:1-6, Jesus sends the Twelve in mission, and in v3 he sets a condition for the work, ‘take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, or money.’ Again, emphasizing the renouncement of possessions, even daily needs! This pericope is mirrored in the sending of the seventy-two in chapter 10. In Luke 10:1-12 Jesus commissions seventy two disciples to go proclaim the Kingdom of God. Yet again, the condition is to ‘carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals.’ (v4)

The disciple and the disciple’s work require a renouncement of possessions. And for Luke the Kingdom of God itself is for those who are poor.  (Luke 6:20) In this verse, Luke departs from Matthew’s ‘poor in spirit,’ (Matthew 5:1) to simple ‘blessed be the poor.’(v20)  It is essential here to clarify that Luke’s Greek has two words for poor: πενής and πτωχός. The former Greek term included the masses who were involved in subsistence living as small peasants, tenant farmers, craftsmen, small traders, and day laborers. The latter Greek term is used to describe the destitute and beggars. Luke always uses the latter as a condition of discipleship, the nature of the mission, and for those who will inherit the Kingdom. (Kraybill, 232)

For Luke, being a disciple is not an easy thing to do, far from it. It is a radical lifestyle. Luke’s attention to discipleship is centered on the commitment that requires you to renounce everything and the existential decision it takes to be able to make this choice daily. The choice is such that it antagonizes loved ones, comfort and security, cultural norms, and even one’s own life. The commitment is such that it embraces persecution and death. Luke’s understanding of discipleship also includes a total dependency on God. An attachment to any other sort of security measure is a threat to this relationship. Hence, Luke places wealth and possessions at an opposition not only to being a disciple, but also as an opposition to the Kingdom itself.

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.