“[God’s plan] narrows and narrows, until at last it comes down to a little point, small as the point of a spear—a Jewish girl at her prayers”
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week of December 21, 2019
The Jesus I Thought I Knew
by Philip Yancey
When I switched on my computer this morning, Microsoft Windows flashed the date, implicitly acknowledging that, whatever you may believe about it, the birth of Jesus was so important that it split history into two parts. Everything that has ever happened on this planet falls into a category of before Christ or after Christ.
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When they saw the star, [the wise men] rejoiced exceedingly with great joy; and going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him
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Matthew 2:10, 11
“More than 1900 years later,” said H. G. Wells, “a historian like myself, who doesn’t even call himself a Christian, finds the picture centering irresistibly on the life and character of this most significant man. . . . The historian’s test of an individual’s greatness is ‘What did he leave to grow?’ Did he start men to thinking along fresh lines with a vigor that persisted after him? By this test Jesus stands first.” You can gauge the size of a ship that has passed out of sight by the huge wake it leaves behind.
And yet I am not writing a book about Jesus because he is a great man who changed history. I am not tempted to write about Julius Caesar or the Chinese emperor who built the Great Wall. I am drawn to Jesus, irresistibly, because he positioned himself as the dividing point of life—my life. “I tell you, whoever acknowledges me before others, the Son of Man will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven,” he said. According to Jesus, what I think of him and how I respond will determine my destiny for all eternity.
Who was Jesus?
How do we answer the simple question, “Who was Jesus?” Secular history gives few clues. In a delicious irony, the figure who has changed history more than any other managed to escape the attention of most scholars and historians of his own time.
Even the four men who wrote the Gospels omitted much that would interest modern readers, skipping over nine-tenths of his life. Since none devotes a word to physical description, we know nothing about Jesus’ shape or stature or eye color. Details of his family life are so scant that scholars still debate whether he had brothers and sisters. The facts of biography considered essential to modern readers simply did not concern the gospel writers.
Before beginning this book I spent several months in three seminary libraries—one Catholic, one liberal Protestant, one conservative evangelical—reading about Jesus. It was daunting in the extreme to walk in the first day and see not just shelves but entire walls devoted to books about Jesus. A scholar at the University of Chicago estimates that more has been written about Jesus in the last twenty years than in the previous nineteen centuries.
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It came upon a midnight clear, That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold
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Edmund H. Sears
The more I studied Jesus, the more difficult it became to pigeon-hole him. He said little about the Roman occupation, the main topic of conversation among his countrymen, and yet he took up a whip to drive petty profiteers from the Jewish temple. He urged obedience to the Mosaic law while acquiring the reputation as a lawbreaker. He could be stabbed by sympathy for a stranger, yet turn on his best friend with the flinty rebuke, “Get behind me, Satan!” He had uncompromising views on rich men and loose women, yet both types enjoyed his company.
One day miracles seemed to flow out of Jesus; the next day his power was blocked by people’s lack of faith. One day he talked in detail of the Second Coming; another, he knew neither the day nor the hour. He fled from arrest at one point and marched inexorably toward it at another. He spoke eloquently about peacemaking, then told his disciples to procure swords. His extravagant claims about himself kept him at the center of controversy, but when he did something truly miraculous he tended to hush it up. As Walter Wink has said, if Jesus had never lived, we would not have been able to invent him.
No one who meets Jesus ever stays the same. I have found that the doubts that afflict me from many sources—from science, from comparative religion, from an innate defect of skepticism, from an aversion to the church—take on a new light when I bring those doubts to the man named Jesus.
—Condensed from chapter one of The Jesus I Never Knew
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