Here are a few of the opening lines of a chapter (The Apocalyptic Jesus) from the book we (David Capes, Randy Richards, and I) are working on, "Rediscovering Jesus."
If Jesus were a cartoon character, what would he
look like? That question may seem a
little odd since most of what has been written about Jesus (whether canonical
or extracanonical) is set before the reader as “the real Jesus.” This is what he said. This is where he lived. This is what he did. Therefore this is what he means. These writers try to make Jesus come alive,
giving a human face to his ancient voice so that readers would know him, admire
him, follow him, perhaps even worship him.
We all seem to be looking for a recognizable Jesus, one that matches our
mental images of him with the power of his personality. He will always say the right words, always do
the right things. He must be charming,
endearing, witty, smart, passionate, gentle, warm, and downright embraceable. In other words, we want a likeable Jesus, a
familiar Jesus, a “take-him-home-for-dinner-to-meet-mom” Jesus. Everyone should be able to relate to the
real, flesh-and-blood Jesus because, after all, he is one of us.
That’s why the seer’s view of Jesus in the
Apocalypse is so shocking, so disturbing, so disorienting. In this “revelation of Jesus Christ,” Jesus
doesn’t appear to be human at all.
Instead, John sees a heavenly man with eyes of fire and a sword-like
tongue—a terrifying figure who is not pleased with the Church. He sees a comic-book lamb with seven eyes and
seven horns—a silent creature who stoically unleashes devastation on earth. This is not the Jesus we have come to know and
love. Rather, John’s vision of Jesus
seems like a nightmare, and many of us would rather look away and pretend as if
that Jesus never existed.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
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5 comments:
When I was researching metaphor in the Bible for my thesis, I read an article by Dr. Susan Hylen of Vanderbilt University who suggested that the violent imagery of John's Revelation promotes/condones violence in the contemporary Christian worldview. Regardless of the accuracy of her account of modern Christian psychology, her perspective caused me to reflect that I am have grown too accustomed to the imagery within the Revelation. I am desensitized. The gory details of the Seer's vision no longer cause me to react with shock, so I appreciate your fresh perspective and look forward to reading the remainder of your chapter!
Matt,
The debate among scholars who work in apocalyptic literature is this: how do we see the rhetorical function of the Apocalypse? Those who take it "literally" see violence; those who take it "ironically" don't. I agree with those who take it ironically. David DeSilva's work on the Apocalypse was very helpful to me, "Seeing things John's Way."
I will check out deSilva's book. Do you think we too often approach the text hoping to discover what John's imagery "meant" rather than what he intended to evoke in his audience?
Matt,
Yes. The expression I've really latched onto that helps me understand the Apocalypse is this: it's not so much how we read the Revelation, but how the Revelation reads us, i.e., what we're talking about here is the perlocutionary force of the text.
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