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The Jesus we thought we knew
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The Jesus we thought we knew

Michael Lim Ubac

Over 2,000 years ago, Jesus Christ appeared on the shores of Galilee in Roman-controlled Israel, teaching truths that were, by all appearances, revolutionary. But instead of working to bring about the downfall of the oppressive Roman Empire, Jesus taught about loving your enemy, of giving bread to the hungry and helping those in need even in the dead of night, of doing good—even performing miracles—to the sick, regardless of gender, race, or status in life.

But Jesus’ teachings were so anathema to the chief priests, teachers of the law, and elders in Jerusalem at the time that he ended up nailed to the cross after being illegally arrested, tried without cause, beaten, mugged, flogged, mocked, and eventually crucified.

Christendom commemorates Christ’s ultimate sacrifice during Lent, the holiest week in the Christian calendar. Palm Sunday on March 29 ushered in Holy Week, leading up to Easter, which celebrates Christ’s bodily resurrection and eventual ascension into heaven.

It’s worth looking back into Pontius Pilate, then the Roman governor of Judea, famous—or infamous—for presiding over Jesus’ truncated trial (less than a day!) and ordering his crucifixion. Pilate raised the most consequential question he might have asked in his lifetime: “Are you the king of the Jews?” Then Jesus replied, “You have said so” (Matthew 27:11).

The book of John added a follow-up question (that the book of Matthew skipped) from a very concerned Pilate.

“What is it you have done?” Pilate asked, and to which Jesus replied: “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place,” to which Pilate exclaimed, “You are a king, then!” (John 18:35-37).

Double-edged sword. What was more significant than Pilate confirming that Jesus was king was Jesus saying His kingdom was from another place. For Christians, this declaration can amount to a double-edged sword: although we are called to vanquish the evils of this world (e.g., fighting crimes and corruption, helping the oppressed and needy, and working toward a fair and just society), we’re not called to undermine, subvert, or rebel against those in authority.

This conundrum has vexed followers of Christ since the first century, setting off Christianity’s trajectory in diverse directions—from active resistance to patient endurance. Recall the martyrs fed to the wild beasts during Roman gladiatorial games and ascetic Christian hermits vis-à-vis the Christian crusaders, the conscientious objectors of the wars of the last century, and modern-day Christian nationalists vis-à-vis the nonresistant, simple lives of the Amish.

What then is the correct path to living out Christ’s teachings?

It’s interesting that the Gospel authors highlighted (and rightly so) that Pilate was earnestly seeking grounds to free Jesus, whom he found innocent of the various charges, chief among them was “inciting the people to rebellion.” But he was up against mob rule (Luke 23:14-15).

Recall that Matthew started the Gospel account by showing the genealogy of Jesus as “the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1). In the book of John, Pilate was told by the Jewish leaders that Jesus must die for claiming to be the Son of God (John 19:7). But Jesus kept His silence. An impatient Pilate told Him that he, the governor, had the power of life and death. In short, Pilate was insinuating to Jesus to cooperate with him, if not recognize his authority, if He wanted to live.

It was then that Jesus, who in John 14:6 said He was the “way, the truth, and the life,” bluntly told His judge: “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of greater sin” (John 19:11). In Matthew 27:25, the crowd had a response to Pilate’s warning about crucifying an innocent man, “His blood is on us and on our children!”

Forgiveness. And yet Jesus, in the throes of death on the Cross, implored the Father to “forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Forgiveness was so central to Jesus’ teachings that during His ministry, He told his disciples—and the crowds who had been following Him—to forgive, as the Father in heaven forgives.

Forgiveness is an integral part of love, for one cannot love without extending forgiveness.

See Also

Since the first century, Christians have faced the vexing question of what it means to follow the crucified Savior. Even after Christ’s resurrection, the Cross on Good Friday continues to be a paradox—how could death triumph over sin? How could the King’s death conquer the world? But the answer lies in Christ’s own words, “My kingdom is not of this world.”

Thus, the “Beatitudes” (Matthew 5:3-12) extol the virtues of the nine “blessed”—those poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful and peacemakers, among others, to show us that Christianity is changing—redeeming—the world from the inside out.

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lim.mike04@gmail.com

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