T. M. Moore
Flesh-and-Blood Jesus: Learning to be Fully Human from the Son of Man, by Dan Russ (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2008), 192 pages, $14.99.
Reading Dan Russ’s excellent and provocative new book about Jesus I was reminded of an incident in which I was involved during my preparation for ministry.
I went to seminary a complete theological novice. I’d been a Christian for only a few years and had never read any theology nor had any introduction to the theological traditions of the Christian heritage. On the advice of trusted pastors, I enrolled in a seminary in the reformed tradition, where it immediately became apparent to me that how one articulates what one believes is just as important as what one actually believes.
In an early theology course the instructor was laboring to explain what was meant by the insistence that God was “without passions or emotions.” I was having difficulty processing that for two reasons. First, I knew that I was a man full of passions and emotions—many of which I wished I didn’t possess, most of which I didn’t understand—and that I had been made in the image of God. But I also could picture in my mind many situations in Scripture in which it seemed to me that God—and especially Jesus—was represented as expressing emotion. So I raised my hand and said, “We say that God is without passions. If that is so, I can’t understand how it can be that Jesus at times seems angry, frustrated, irritated, or even sad. I don’t understand these references to emotion when it comes to Jesus, the God/Man.” To which the instructor responded with a nervous laugh and shrug, saying only, “Well, that’s just too bad.” The laughter of my classmates sounded as ill-at-ease as his.
What shall we make of the fact that God became a man in the person of Jesus of Nazareth? Anselm’s theological summation, Cur Deus Homo, is accurate enough, at least as far as the work of redemption goes. But is that all there is? Theologians from Athanasius to Zwingli have covered this ground in sermons, tracts, articles, and books. But is the only reason for the Incarnation to be found in the necessity of God taking on a debt he did not owe in order to pay it for wretched sinners who could not? Certainly this is the great reason for and achievement of the Incarnation; however, the New Testament makes much more of the fact that God became a man like us than that our redemption required as much.
There is the matter of temptation, for example, and of God’s identifying with us in our struggle to achieve holiness in a fallen world (Heb. 4:15). The Incarnation of Christ is also held out as the example of how we should relate to one another—as servants rather than lords (Phil. 2:1–11). Further, the humanity of Christ in his suffering serves to show us how we, for the sake of God’s love, must bear up under injustice (1 Peter 2:21). In these ways and more the New Testament indicates there are lessons to be gained for our human experience from a more careful consideration of the flesh-and-blood experience of Jesus Christ.
Indeed, many before Dan Russ have touched on one or another of these matters. The great virtue of Russ’s contribution to this study is that he covers so much ground in so brief a space, employing a wealth of familiar and personal illustrations and examples, leaving the reader both piqued and satisfied, but eager to learn more.
Flesh-and-Blood Jesus is an excellent book. Russ examines aspects of the earthly sojourn of Christ to offer words of insight, affirmation, guidance, and encouragement to our own mundane experience. For too many of us “mundane” usually means something like “boring” or “insignificant.” Jesus, however, sanctifies everything about our human experience and invites us, as Russ points out, to enter into our lives in him in new and surprising ways.
Russ discusses such everyday realities as the places where we live, our relationships to various kinds of authority figures, family and friendships, sexuality, and, yes, even such emotions as frustration, anger, and sadness. Russ, who is Director of the Center for Christian Studies at Gordon College (and editor of Provocations), looks more closely at many of the familiar aspects of the Incarnation to discover fresh messages and meanings for our own lives.
Seeing Jesus as an infant and a youth, for example, we learn that it’s okay for us to be needy, good for us to accept our limitations, and not necessary that we “know it all” in order to make a contribution of good to the lives of others. Looking at Jesus’ relationship with his mother we learn that tension and disagreement must necessarily exist even in the midst of love, and can be powerful forces for grace. Jesus’ relationship with the rest of his family shows us that we must be careful not to allow our closest personal relationships to lead us to disobey God. In his encounters with the authorities of his day, Jesus demonstrates the wisdom required both to obey the powers-that-be and to confront and defy them when necessary.
This book is excellent in the Pauline sense of making the reader long for “still more” (1 Thess. 4:1, 9, 10), both in knowing Christ more “humanly” and in fleshing out our own human experience in a more Christ-like manner. Questions for reflection or discussion at the end of each chapter make this an excellent book for use in Sunday school, Bible studies, or reading groups.
But Dan Russ’s survey of the humanity of Jesus is not only excellent; it’s also provocative. For example, I’m not sure I’ve ever read the word “failure” in connection with the Son of Man. Russ explains that Jesus did fail in many ways, albeit without sinning, and not because of any lack of diligence or obedience on his part. He failed to persuade many people to follow him. He failed to do mighty works in the face of unbelief. He failed to secure the loyalty of the crowds for anything other than their own selfish interests. “Failure” may not be the best word to use in these contexts, but Russ’s use of the word helps us to understand that it’s not wrong to fail, and certainly not sinful. We need to nurture high hopes and bold ambitions for our lives in God’s Kingdom. But when we fail to meet our goals, or when people disappoint or let us down, we must not let “failure” keep us from the next bold endeavor to which the Lord may direct us.
Also provocative is the insightful way Russ explains Jesus’ anger. We tend to think of anger as a sin; it is not, however, and Russ shows us why. We may become angry when we’re frustrated, as Jesus certainly seems to have been with his disciples at times (“Get behind me, Satan!”). We can harness anger for constructive purposes, as when Jesus met the anger of his opponents with anger of his own (“whitewashed tombs!”), to the delight of the crowds and the edification of his disciples (“Beware the leaven of the Pharisees.”). Finally, there is the kind of righteous indignation that Jesus showed when he drove the money-changers out of the temple. He was rightly angry for the sake of God’s dignity and his holy sanctuary. Everyone who witnessed those events would have been forced to reflect on the utter seriousness of approaching God in his temple. From these examples of Jesus in his flesh-and-blood existence we can learn that anger is not to be avoided, as though it were sinful, but put to the proper uses for which God intended it.
I especially found two aspects of Flesh-and-Blood Jesus to be reinforcing of my own convictions. First is the celebration of place. Jesus, Russ points out, was born in a particular place and time, among particular people from all walks of life. This is where he lived and moved and had his ministry. And everywhere he went Jesus was able to discover and dispense beauty, goodness, and truth. Every place where God has put us has significance. Each of us, like the Lord Jesus, has a personal field of mission of places, people, and responsibilities—like a garden we are called to tend and keep until it flourishes with the beauty, goodness, and truth of the Lord.
Christian mission does not begin “over there.” I once heard an Operation Mobilization speaker, exhorting us as students to a witnessing way of life, who said that if we think the ends of the earth are the heart of Africa or the jungles of Asia, that’s because we believe the center of the earth is where we are. In a very real sense, as Jesus shows, where we are is both the center and the ends of the earth, and we must take up our individual callings, as Jesus did, and serve faithfully in the places and with the people where the Lord has set us.
The other aspect is what Russ refers to as Jesus’ “extreme” spirituality. Of course, Jesus’ spirituality only seems extreme because few of us follow in his footsteps when it comes to immersion in the Scriptures and in prayer, fasting, solitude, and the willingness to endure pain and suffering for the sake of God’s Kingdom. What passes for a “spiritual life” among many church leaders today—not to speak of church members in general—is a far cry from what seems to be implied for those who take up the challenge to “Follow me.” Yes, the spiritual life is difficult, and can be fraught with pain and even sorrow, especially when it collides with a world which resents such “extreme” expressions of faith. But we should not try to protect ourselves against such things; rather, we must take them on and bear up under them through a disciplined life of love to God and neighbor, a life anchored in a deep and costly spirituality.
Some may be queasy about becoming too familiar with the humanity of Jesus. Dan Russ shows us that such queasiness is unfounded and ill-advised. Get this book. Read it with some friends. Take its teaching into your heart and work each day at living out in your own flesh-and-blood experience the glorious, sanctifying, surprising, invigorating, and transforming example of our Lord Jesus Christ.
T. M. Moore is Dean of the Centurions Program of the Wilberforce Forum and Principal of The Fellowship of Ailbe, a spiritual fellowship in the Celtic Christian tradition. He is the author or editor of twenty books, and has contributed chapters to several others. His essays, reviews, articles, papers, and poetry have appeared in dozens of national and international journals, and on a wide range of websites. His most recent books are Culture Matters (Brazos) and The Hidden Life, a handbook of poems, songs, and spiritual exercises (Waxed Tablet). Sign up at his website to receive his daily email devotional Crosfigell, reflections on Scripture and the Celtic Christian tradition. T. M. and his wife and editor, Susie, make their home in Concord, TN.
Reviews, Being Human, Character and Ethics, Spiritual Growth, Thu 10 Jul 2008
What else is the philosophy of Christ, which he himself calls a rebirth, than the restoration of human nature originally well formed?
Erasmus of Rotterdam