In the days when Christ Jesus was in the flesh,
he offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears
to the one who was able to save him from death,
and he was heard because of his reverence.
Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered;
and when he was made perfect,
he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. (NAB)

 Powerful, powerful, powerful. That was my first response to Hebrews 5:7-9 when I read it today. I am not certain if you could call it a gut reaction, as that suggests only an emotional response, as opposed to an intellectual response, but my sense is that the intellect and emotions are more tightly tied together than we know, or perhaps want to admit. It seems that when Christ was in the flesh he too responded emotionally to his human dilemma – the author of Hebrews is here evoking his Passion in particular – “he offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears.” Is there any way not to see “loud cries and tears” as an emotional response? When I suffer, from my own sin and stupidity, or the reality of a sinful world and its brokenness, it is often with tears, sometimes loud cries – though I try to rein those in when possible, though not always successfully. These evocations of Jesus’ emotions, more than any other aspect of his Incarnation, connect me to his humanity. Those of us who have lived long enough have suffered, and it does not take long to share in this commonality of human experience. A few years ago, I heard an actress, or perhaps it was simply someone interviewed for a news story, say she had never had a “bad day ever” in her whole life. She blurted it out as a triumph, but it made me feel sad for her. Here was someone who had averted her gaze from reality, both her’s and that of the world at large, to create a kind of happy bubble, the sort that inevitably burst.

I do not wish suffering on anyone, but I wish reality for everyone. Ultimately, reality pays off, while the illusion only lets you down. I should be clear, though, I do not think reality means life is terrible so grow up and get used to the fact that all your dreams are bound to fail. I reject this view of reality – why is pain and suffering more real than joy and happiness? But nor do I think that reality is averting one’s gaze from suffering and pretending that everything is unicorns, gummy bears, and fields of candy canes. Somewhere between never having a “bad day ever” and “everything sucks” is reality. And because of Jesus’ willingness to accept the will of his Father in heaven, reality, the good and the bad, has been redeemed. Note that Hebrews states that Jesus was heard by “the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence.” Yet, being heard did not mean that Jesus could avert the suffering for which his life was destined, it meant that he could accept the suffering willingly and because of the suffering gain redemption through the cross for all humanity. This is Christ’s “reverence”: his obedience to the Father. Because he was “Son” he molded himself in the image of “Father,” the ideal image of Father and Son in the ancient world.

Theologically, going back to the Arian controversy, the next line, “when he was made perfect,” has been the subject of debate, with some arguing that this indicated that Christ was not “true God from true God” but one who was “adopted” as Son by the Father. In this context, though, it is clear that this does not impinge on Christ’s divine being, but on his earthly obedience to the Father’s will. The word teleioo, here translated as “made perfect” (as it is also for instance in Matthew 5:48), has the sense also of “maturity,” as it is translated in a number of places in Paul’s letters (see Philippians 3:15). The basic range of meaning encompasses “to complete” or “to fulfill,” with the sense of to bring something to its intended purpose. It was by Jesus remaining true to his intended purpose that he was able to bring us to salvation. This is the redemption of reality, and though we cannot claim that every day here on earth is perfect, Jesus’ obedience is the reason why it is no illusion to say that even when we suffer we know that God is with us and that eternity is never a bad day. Ever. I know this with my head, but I feel it in my gut.

 

John W. Martens is an associate professor of theology at the University of St. Thomas, St. Paul, Minn,where he teaches early Christianity and Judaism. He also directs the Master of Arts in Theology program at the St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity. He was born in Vancouver, B.C. into a Mennonite family that had decided to confront modernity in an urban setting. His post-secondary education began at Tabor College, Hillsboro, Kansas, came to an abrupt stop, then started again at Vancouver Community College, where his interest in Judaism and Christianity in the earliest centuries emerged. He then studied at St. Michael's College, University of Toronto, and McMaster University, with stops at University of Haifa and University of Tubingen. His writing often explores the intersection of Jewish, Christian and Greco-Roman culture and belief, such as in "let the little children come to me: Children and Childhood in Early Christianity" (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2009), but he is not beyond jumping into the intersection of modernity and ancient religion, as in "The End of the World: The Apocalyptic Imagination in Film and Television" (Winnipeg: J. Gordon Shillingford Press, 2003). He blogs at  www.biblejunkies.com and at www.americamagazine.org for "The Good Word." You can follow him on Twitter @biblejunkies, where he would be excited to welcome you to his random and obscure interests, which range from the Vancouver Canucks and Minnesota Timberwolves, to his dog, and 70s punk, pop and rock. When he can, he brings students to Greece, Turkey and Rome to explore the artifacts and landscape of the ancient world. He lives in St. Paul with his wife and has two sons. He is certain that the world will not end until the Vancouver Canucks have won the Stanley Cup, as evidence has emerged from the Revelation of John, 1 Enoch, 2 Baruch, and 4 Ezra which all point in this direction.