Before Jesus speaks persons gather. They converse in crowds. They anticipate. Expectation and excitement stands up and walks about with nervous energy. Strangers bond with shared eagerness. Friends bond with shared stories.
But after Jesus speaks these bonds can break. The words of Jesus can agitate. Listeners transform into intense preachers. “He has a demon,” some proclaim. These profess that Jesus speaks from an evil source. His words are devilish. Others declare that Jesus “is insane.” His words are jibberish. Lunacy drapes him. He is out of his mind. Yet, others find clarity. The words and deeds of Jesus rescue sanity and returns it to them. “These are not the words of one who is oppressed by a demon,” they say.
When Jesus speaks people divide. Bonds break. Opinions separate.
The cause of the division is not surprising in one sense. But what facilitates the division does surprise me. Jesus claims to be “the Good Shepherd.” This exclusive claim outrages and scandalizes. Borrowing Old Testament language for God and applying it to ones’ self is bound to spark controversy. Less understandable is how Jesus’ use of poetry disrupts. Prior to the outrage, Jesus confounds with His choice of language. All Jesus said was that He was the Good Shepherd. He explored the metaphor. He fleshed it out. But Jesus’ word-choice dismantled crowds into bewilderment. The narrator (John) tells us about it:
This figure of speech Jesus used with them, but they did not
understand what he was saying to them. (John 10:6)
Jesus’ language choice is on my mind. Jesus seems to possess the habit of doing theology with poetry. When Jesus wants to teach us about His divinity, he says: “I am the bread of life,” or “I am the light of the world,” or “I am the Good Shepherd.” Jesus’ language choice resembles the Old Testament pattern. When God speaks of Himself He refers to Himself as a rock, or an eagle or a strong tower.
For those of us whose church stories are rooted in the language of systematic theology or western philosophy, the way Jesus does theology can confound us. I wonder if we sometimes assume that in order to demonstrate a deep and rich appreciation for God we think that we have to speak with the language of systems, creeds and confessions. We may even think that theology done with poetry demonstrates a watered-down and simplistic approach to God. We may feel that if a person really cared about God and the doctrines of God they would quickly abandon poetry. After all, to say that God is a rock seems childlike. More adult language would say that God is omnipotent. Right?
But while I value and treasure my theological heritage with its language. I can’t help but consider a question: “Which phrase is theologically more accurate? Which phrase is more doctrinally sound? To say that “God is omnipotent? Or to say that “God is like an eagle underneath whose wings we are sheltered?”
The Language of Religion, C.S. Lewis helpfully describes these three language options. I can summarize them and then apply them to the Bible in this way:
Scientific Language: The language of precision and measurement
e.g., “It’s 13 degrees outside.”
e.g., “It does not say, “and to your offspring’s,” referring to
many, but referring to one, “and to your offspring” which is Christ. (Galatians 3:16)
Ordinary Language: The language of daily and ordinary life
e.g., “It’s really cold out.”
e.g., “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)
Poetic Language: The language of metaphor and experience
e.g., “The owl with all of its feathers is skin and shivering”
e.g., “The grass withers, the flowers fade, but the word of our God endures forever.” (Isaiah 40:7)
While precise language is necessary and ordinary language is prudent, I wonder what it would mean to confound the religious elite with poetry as Jesus did? What does it mean for me that Jesus seeks to do theology with poetry? How do I come to terms with that?
-Zack
But after Jesus speaks these bonds can break. The words of Jesus can agitate. Listeners transform into intense preachers. “He has a demon,” some proclaim. These profess that Jesus speaks from an evil source. His words are devilish. Others declare that Jesus “is insane.” His words are jibberish. Lunacy drapes him. He is out of his mind. Yet, others find clarity. The words and deeds of Jesus rescue sanity and returns it to them. “These are not the words of one who is oppressed by a demon,” they say.
When Jesus speaks people divide. Bonds break. Opinions separate.
The cause of the division is not surprising in one sense. But what facilitates the division does surprise me. Jesus claims to be “the Good Shepherd.” This exclusive claim outrages and scandalizes. Borrowing Old Testament language for God and applying it to ones’ self is bound to spark controversy. Less understandable is how Jesus’ use of poetry disrupts. Prior to the outrage, Jesus confounds with His choice of language. All Jesus said was that He was the Good Shepherd. He explored the metaphor. He fleshed it out. But Jesus’ word-choice dismantled crowds into bewilderment. The narrator (John) tells us about it:
This figure of speech Jesus used with them, but they did not
understand what he was saying to them. (John 10:6)
Jesus’ language choice is on my mind. Jesus seems to possess the habit of doing theology with poetry. When Jesus wants to teach us about His divinity, he says: “I am the bread of life,” or “I am the light of the world,” or “I am the Good Shepherd.” Jesus’ language choice resembles the Old Testament pattern. When God speaks of Himself He refers to Himself as a rock, or an eagle or a strong tower.
For those of us whose church stories are rooted in the language of systematic theology or western philosophy, the way Jesus does theology can confound us. I wonder if we sometimes assume that in order to demonstrate a deep and rich appreciation for God we think that we have to speak with the language of systems, creeds and confessions. We may even think that theology done with poetry demonstrates a watered-down and simplistic approach to God. We may feel that if a person really cared about God and the doctrines of God they would quickly abandon poetry. After all, to say that God is a rock seems childlike. More adult language would say that God is omnipotent. Right?
But while I value and treasure my theological heritage with its language. I can’t help but consider a question: “Which phrase is theologically more accurate? Which phrase is more doctrinally sound? To say that “God is omnipotent? Or to say that “God is like an eagle underneath whose wings we are sheltered?”
The Language of Religion, C.S. Lewis helpfully describes these three language options. I can summarize them and then apply them to the Bible in this way:
Scientific Language: The language of precision and measurement
e.g., “It’s 13 degrees outside.”
e.g., “It does not say, “and to your offspring’s,” referring to
many, but referring to one, “and to your offspring” which is Christ. (Galatians 3:16)
Ordinary Language: The language of daily and ordinary life
e.g., “It’s really cold out.”
e.g., “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)
Poetic Language: The language of metaphor and experience
e.g., “The owl with all of its feathers is skin and shivering”
e.g., “The grass withers, the flowers fade, but the word of our God endures forever.” (Isaiah 40:7)
While precise language is necessary and ordinary language is prudent, I wonder what it would mean to confound the religious elite with poetry as Jesus did? What does it mean for me that Jesus seeks to do theology with poetry? How do I come to terms with that?
-Zack