Raymond Brown on the Bodily Resurrection of Jesus

Raymond Brown was one of the great biblical scholars of the last third of the 20th century. Brown was a 'critical' scholar who was not afraid to ask hard questions about the scriptures. He was also a faithful Roman Catholic. This is from his historical-critical examination of the resurrection narratives of the gospels:

From a critical study of the biblical evidence I would judge that Christians can and indeed should continue to speak of a bodily resurrection. Our earliest ancestors in the faith proclaimed a bodily resurrection in the sense that they did not believe that Jesus’ body had corrupted in the tomb. However, and this is equally important, Jesus’ risen body was no longer a body as we know bodies, bound by the dimensions of space and time. It is best to follow Paul’s description [in 1 Corinthians 15] of risen bodies as spiritual, not natural or physical (psychos); he can even imply that these bodies are no longer flesh and blood (1 Corinthians 15:50). Small wonder he speaks of a mystery! In our fidelity to proclaiming the bodily resurrection of Jesus, we should never become so defensively governed by apologetics that we do not do justice to this element of transformation and mystery. Christian truth is best served when equal justice is done to the element of continuity implied in bodily resurrection and to the element of eschatological transformation.

The understanding that the resurrection was bodily in the sense that Jesus’ body did not corrupt in the tomb has important theological implications. The resurrection of Jesus was remembered with such emphasis in the church because it explained what God had done for men. Through the resurrection men came to believe in God in a new way; man’s relationship to God was changed; a whole new vision of God and His intention for men was made possible; the whole flow of time and history was redirected. Nevertheless, a stress on the bodily resurrection keeps us from defining this resurrection solely in terms of what God has done for men. The resurrection was and remains, first of all, what God has done for Jesus. It was not an evolution in human consciousness, nor was it the disciples’ brilliant insight into the meaning of the crucifixion–it was the sovereign action of God glorifying Jesus of Nazareth. Only because God has done this for His Son are new possibilities opened for His many children who have come to believe in what He has done.

– The Virginal Conception and Bodily Resurrection of Jesus, p. 127-128

Previous: The Break-in of an End-time Reality

Next: Bodily Resurrection: More than a Christian Curiosity

The Break-in of an End-time Reality

For each of the eight days of the Octave of Easter, I am going to offer a quote or two on the meaning of resurrection – Jesus’ and ours.

The following are from The Apostles' Creed in light of Today’s Questions by Wolfhart Pannenberg: 

If we ask about the origins of Christianity, not merely in the sense of enquiring what the first Christians believed , but in the sense of a present-day evaluation of what was really at the bottom of the story which started Christianity off, then we have to face up to the problem of the Easter events. p. 113

Can the historian reckon with the break-in of an end-time reality which does not take the same form as other historical events and which rests on a radical transformation of the present world? Can he consider it possible for such and end-time event to make itself felt beforehand, and already to become fully active in the present world? p. 108

The assertion that Jesus is risen from the dead remains a matter of dispute in a special degree because it cuts so deeply into fundamental questions of the understanding of reality. p. 114

The salvation of the individual, the wholeness of his existence which had remained a fragment because of misfortune, error, and death, is linked together with the destiny of mankind in the idea of a common resurrection of the dead at the end of the history of this present world. This also finds expression in the association of the general resurrection of the dead with the Last Judgment and the full revelation of the kingdom of God, which will complete man’s social destiny. p. 175

The kingdom of God embraces the earlier generations of mankind as well as the coming ones, and hope for the coming of the rule of God does not only expect salvation for the last generation; it is directed towards the transfiguration of all epochs of human history through the fire of divine judgment, which is one with the light of the glory of God. p. 178

Next: Raymond Brown on the Bodily Resurrection

Click, Click, Click, Click - A Good Friday Sermon

John 18:1-19:37

In 1961, at the height of the Cold War, the Soviet Navy commissioned its first nuclear powered submarine with the ability to launch nuclear missiles. The K-19 set out from port on its first maneuvers to send a message to the world that, just as the United States had nuclear submarines that could threaten the Soviet Union, the threat could now be returned.

After testing their missiles, disaster struck. The nuclear reactor developed a leak in its coolant system and it began to overheat. As the reactor continued to heat up so did the possibility of an explosion. The leak also began to send toxic radiation throughout the submarine. The men on the K-19 were trapped. They were all quickly becoming contaminated with a potentially lethal dose of radiation. You can see a version of this story in the movie K-19 The Widow Maker.

The K-19 might serve as a metaphor our situation and why we gather to commemorate Good Friday. Our world, like the K-19, has a toxic leak at its heart. Our world is contaminated. The radiation of Sin and Death, of violence and suffering, greed and failure to love permeates this world. And, whether we like to admit it or not, it permeates each of us. We are contaminated. What’s even harder for us to admit is that many of our actions and thoughts contribute to the contamination. The leaking reactor at the heart of the world contaminates everything. The reactor of our own hearts is contaminated. Like the crew on the K-19 we are trapped, unable to escape the toxic contamination. 

Into this world comes one who is not contaminated. Jesus enters into the world and acts as a sort of holy Geiger counter setting off a click, click, click as he encounters the contamination radiating from Sin and Death.

Judas, a trusted friend and disciple, comes to him in the darkness. Perhaps it was greed. Perhaps it was disillusionment. Perhaps it as an impatient attempt to force Jesus’ hand and bring about the kingdom as Judas envisioned it. In any event, Judas betrays Jesus with a kiss. And with that lip service, the Geiger counter goes click, click, click, click.

By most standards the high priests, Annas and Caiaphas, were probably decent enough men, trying to maintain as much independence for their nation as they could while appeasing the occupying Romans and forestalling the wrath of the empire. But Caiaphas was the one who had counseled that it was “better to have one person die for the people.” Jesus was just “collateral damage” in the struggle to preserve the nation’s precarious security. There is a logic to his thinking. It is reasoning with which we have become familiar as we decide others must suffer for our security and comfort. But the thinking is contaminated. And again we hear, click, click, click, click.

Peter, the “Rock”, cracks under pressure and lies to avoid being associated with the one who had called him and whom he had followed. He denies Jesus not once but thrice and upon the third denial hears the rooster crow click, click, click, click.

Pilate cynically asks the one who is Truth, “What is truth?” Unable or unwilling to accept the truth and the changes that must follow, Pilate, who claims the power to free or to crucify, hands an innocent man over to be crucified while seeking to remain free of the guilt. But he cannot escape the click, click, click, click measuring the contamination of his actions.

One way or another, each of the characters that Jesus encounters in the passion narrative (excepting only Mary and the other women, along with the disciple Jesus loved) demonstrates his contamination by the radiation of Sin and Death. Each alone and all together act out of fear, pride, and disbelief leading to betrayal, denial, desertion, deceit, collaboration, and the justification of violence.

In one sense, little has changed. We live in a world that still radiates Sin and Death. And, one way or another, through things done and left undone, we make our own contribution to the contamination. Called to love God and neighbor we too often deny, betray, and desert both. Click, click, click, click.

If all we could say was that Jesus came into the world to reveal and measure the contamination of Sin, if he merely left us with nothing but the echo of the click, click, click, click we would still be trapped and lost. If all he said was “Listen to the click, click, click, click and stop participating in your own contamination and that of others,” we would still be trapped and lost. But he has done more. He has sacrificed himself to begin the decontamination.

But that is not the whole story. Thank God, that is not the whole story.

As the disaster on the K-19 worsened, levels of radiation in the submarine rose along with the expectation that the overheating reactor would explode if nothing was done. Seven crewmen volunteered to work in shifts in the high-radiation area to create a new coolant system for the reactor. In doing so they absorbed lethal doses of radiation. All seven died. It was an heroic sacrifice that saved most of the rest of the crew and prevented an explosion that would have sunk the submarine.

I wonder if the sacrifice of Jesus which we commemorate today might be understood similarly. On the cross, Jesus absorbed the lethal dose of Sin and Death, repaired the leak, and began the decontamination of the world.

In Jesus the love of God was poured out on the hard wood of the cross and into the contaminated mess of our world. He is the antidote bringing forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing. Today we who are now in Christ celebrate that sacrifice, deliverance, and decontamination. As with the K-19 after the repair, we still experience the effects of residual radiation. But Sin and Death were contained on a Friday afternoon nearly 2,000 years ago and the decontamination began. And that was a Good Friday indeed.

He Washed Our Feet!

A Maundy Thursday Sermon

John13:1-15

My name is John, the Beloved. Though it was a long time ago, I still remember clearly the last night we were with the Master. Nothing that had happened before prepared us for what we did that night. 

He never was one to fulfill expectations. When we expected him to be gentle, he was stern. When we expected him to condemn, he forgave. He honored the dishonorable and rebuked the reputable. Every time it seemed anyone thought they had him pegged, he deliberately said or did something to bring them up short. But nothing had prepared us for what he did that last night we were together. The lengths to which he would go to hammer home his love for us.

There we were . . . huddled around the table in that small, rented room. Smoke from the lanterns filled the room. The tension hanging in the air was thicker than the smoke. We were edgy with anticipation. We could sense that something big was coming. We didn’t know what. By this time the crowds and adulation seemed a distant memory. Now it was pretty much down to the twelve of us and the master. For the first time, it was clear that his friends were outnumbered by his enemies. He had begun to talk and act strangely. He kept talking about his hour having come. We couldn’t get him to tell us simply what that meant (or, when he did, we weren’t ready to hear). Whatever it meant, it hung over us like a cloud of smoke.

The Master also looked at us differently . . . like he was sifting us, sifting us in ways he had not sifted us before. Other times he would stare into space as if he was sifting the very fabric of creation. He was somehow both relaxed and tense. Like an archer who had pulled his bow to the point that it must either let fly or break. He made me nervous. I guess we were all a little nervous, if not scared, as we reclined around the table eating with anxious anticipation. Whatever we anticipated, it was not what happened.

The Master got up, and without saying a word, stripped his clothes off . . . stripped!  And tied a towel around his waist. All conversation stopped. He poured some water into a basin, set it at the feet of one of the group, and began to wash his feet. 

I don’t remember whose feet he washed first, or second, only that they were too shocked and stunned to react much before it was done. I remember Andrew was third. He had more time. As it got closer to his turn, you could tell he wished he had sat on the other side of the table. He looked around at the rest of us for help, but we were all helpless. What do you do when your master becomes your servant? As the Master set the basin at his feet, Andrew sat up. His eyes bulged as if he thought the water was going to scald him. The Master stared into his eyes and smiled. Then he looked down and began to wash his feet.

Of course, later, we began to understand some of what he was doing. He loved to say and do strange and mysterious things, things that meant more than was obvious.  Like the prophets of old. Sometimes he would explain them to us, sometimes he left us to guess, and sometimes his explanations left us guessing. For the moment, we were left guessing.

He moved on around the table. He came to Thaddeus. Thaddeus was one of the more inconspicuous among us. He was not as well educated as some. He was not a natural leader like Peter; not as sharp as Thomas; not as experienced as Matthew; not as outgoing as  Philip. I am ashamed to admit I sometimes thought he had no business being among us in the first place. Yet, there was the Master, bent over, cradling his feet as he washed them.

With each foot he washed, he got a foot closer to mine. I began to wish I had thought to get up and wash his feet first. As his disciple, that would have been fitting. And if he still wanted to turn things upside down and wash ours, at least I could feel he was just reciprocating. But, before I thought to serve him, he chose to serve me. What do you do when your master becomes your servant?

He even washed Judas’ feet. The Betrayer! I have no doubt that he knew by then that Judas was up to no good. If any of the rest of us had known, we would have spit in his face. But, the Master . . . the Master washed his feet.

He was getting closer to me. I began looking at my feet to see how dirty they were.  Not too bad, considering where they had been. But surely there was a slave or servant in the house who should do this. Not the Master.

He came to Peter. As usual, Peter spoke when the rest of us were speechless. He was the only one with the nerve, or the audacity, to challenge the Master. More than once, it got him into trouble. He stood up and said, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” 

         

The Master replied, “You may not realize now what I am doing, but you will later.” 

Peter declared, “You shall never wash my feet!” 

“If I do not wash you,” the Master answered, “you will have no share in me.” 

In that case, Peter replied, “I want a full bath.” But that was not the point. He washed Peter’s feet and moved on.

He moved on to me. I was desperate to leave. I was desperate to stay. How could I let my Master humiliate himself and serve me? After what he said to Peter, how could I not?  He cupped my foot in his hands and began to knead it like wet clay, rubbing his hands over and under it. Somehow the offensiveness disappeared with his touch. Those confident hands that had healed so many, now healed parts of me I did not know needed healing. As he switched to my other foot, he looked up. I thought I saw a tear in his eye, but his smile was so kind; for a moment filled with eternity, I was his beloved. As he washed me, I was struck with what ends he would go to demonstrate his love for me; even this humiliating service.

Of course, we know now that this was a symbol of the Great Humiliation that he underwent on our behalf. The next day, he would be stripped again. And this time more than water would be poured out. And the washing we have received has made us cleaner than we could ever have hoped to be.

But that night remains. It was the night the Master became Servant, and the servants became masters. The One Who Was Sent sent us to be the masters of his message.  And not just those who were there, but all who, like you, have been baptized into his service. The question is, “What kind of masters of the message are we going to be?” 

The Servant Master, who is the Master Servant, shows us the way. What do you do when your master becomes your servant? He said, “You also should do as I have done to you.”

Whose Feet Will You Wash?

Maundy Thursday is a reminder that our Lord’s call to communion with himself is inseparable from our communion with one another as members of his body. Basil of Caesarea (c. 330-379) understood this and warned in his monastic Rule against seeking communion with God outside of community:

How shall you show humility, if you have no one in comparison with whom to show yourself humble? How shall you show compassion if you cut yourself off from the fellowship of the many? How can you exercise yourself in patience, if no one contradicts your wishes? If you think the teaching of the Holy Scripture is sufficient to correct your character, you are like a person who learns the theory of carpentry but never makes anything.

The Lord, because of his great love of humanity, was not content only with teaching the word, but, so that he might accurately and clearly give us an example of humility in the perfection of love, he girded himself and washed the feet of the disciples in person. [If you neglect life in the community] whose feet will you wash? Who will you care for? In comparison to whom will you be last?

A Life Pleasing to God, The Spirituality of the Rules of St. Basil by Augustine Holmes OSB, Cistercian Publications, WMU Station, Kalamazoo, Michigan, 12000, p. 142

Bearing with One Another - 11. Working Out Our Salvation

This is the last in a series of blog posts on bearing with one another –

especially when we find ourselves disagreeing with one another.

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul writes,

“work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.”

Fundamentally, this whole series has been about

an essential aspect of working out our salvation.

That we need salvation –

deliverance, healing, and forgiveness –

is evident enough.  

We are made for love and communion,

but there is deep brokenness in all of our relationships,

personal and social.

In spite of that,

we have seen through Jesus

that there is grace at the heart of all things.

With that grace we become aware that

God delights in each of us and in all of creation.

With that grace we have also received mercy –

God sympathizes with our weaknesses (Hebrews 4:15),

forgives us (1 John 1:9),

and will finally heal all brokenness (Acts 3:21)

Human brokenness meets God’s grace at the foot of the cross

where we hear Jesus praying forgiveness upon us.

With the assurance of that forgiveness

we can dare to look at our own complicity in his death –

our own fingerprints on the hammer and nails –

and the myriad ways, great and small,

that we nail one another to the cross.

With that grace we can live lives worthy of that grace.

With that grace we are free. 

We are free to deny ourselves

and take up the cross

as we follow Jesus

in his way of self-sacrificial love.

     

We are free to accept that we are often wrong.

We are free to be vulnerable in in self-sacrificing love

with open hearts and open hands.

We are free to live kindly and

resist the temptation to bear false witness against others.

We are free to interpret others with charity.

We are free to work out our salvation.

The second chapter of Paul’s letter to the Philippians describes what that looks like. It looks like Jesus who did not grasp at equality with God, but rather emptied and humbled himself for the sake of self-sacrificing love.

To live like that, like Jesus, is what it means to work out our salvation –

to live as though we know that grace is real.

We work out our salvation together in the Church by being

a community of mercy and delight.

And thus we seek to be of the same mind, having the same love,

being in full accord and of one mind.

We seek to do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit,

but in humility regard others as better than ourselves.

We seek look not to our own interests,

but to the interests of others.

We avoid murmuring and arguing,

so that you may be blameless and innocent.

To not live this way is to participate in

the crooked and perverse generation

            living contrary to the way of Jesus

Having received the mercy and delight of God’s grace in Jesus Christ,

we can work out our salvation

and shine like stars

in a world darkened by brokenness and division,

by meanness and violence,

by envy and enmity.

Let’s bear with one another and in this way fulfill the law of Christ.

(Galatians 6:2)

Let’s lead a life worthy of the calling to which we have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

(Ephesians 4:1-3)

Let’s bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven us, so we also must forgive. (Colossians 3:13)

Previous:

Bearing with One Another

1. Broken Love

2. A Life Worthy of the Calling

3. Grace First and Last

4. Three Movements of Mercy

5. Gathered Together at the Foot of the Cross

6. Free to be Wrong

7. Free to be Vulnerable in Love

8. Only What is Said Kindly is True

9. On Not Bearing FalseWitness

10. Interpreting One Another with Charity

Bearing with One Another - 10. Interpreting One Another with Charity

Stephen Fowl teaches theology at Loyola College, Baltimore and is a member of the Cathedral of the Incarnation. He is also a member of the House of Bishops' Theology Committee. I am grateful to count him among my friends.

In his book, Engaging Scripture, Fowl writes about the habits of a charitable interpreter which are essential for any true engagement with scripture and other interpreters. Though he addresses charitable interpretation in that particular context, the practice of charitable interpretation is a virtue to cultivate more generally – with family and friends, at work, with other church members, in our larger political discourse, engaging one another on the internet – in any situation where we are likely to disagree with the way another person interprets things. Interpreting others with charity is a basic gospel discipline.

What follows is taken from Engaging Scripture:

When Christians’ convictions and practices regarding sin, forgiveness, repentance, and reconciliation are in good working order, the recognition of oneself as a sinner works to keep one’s eye single. Further, this recognition draws one into a collection of practices designed to restore, reconcile, and subsequently deepen one’s communion with God and others. p. 86

Short of the eschatological completion of the promises in Jeremiah 31 and 1 Corinthians 13 . . . Christians will need to engage scripture in the recognition that they will disagree with each other. Christians ought to expect that their scriptural interpretation will be marked by sustained disagreements about how best to interpret and embody scripture in any particular context. In fact the absence of such arguments would be a sign of a community’s ill health. p. 87

A charitable interpreter will both recognize interpretive differences and refuse temptations to reduce or rationalize those differences and disputes away. p. 88

Initially, it may be extremely difficult to make sense of the claims of others, particularly those most different from us. This, however, is a contingent problem which can be addressed through hard work and patience. Rather than assert that such differences render conversation and debate impossible, the charitable interpreter will begin the slow, often tedious process of learning the presumptions, conventions, and idioms needed to make others’ views intelligible. Charitable interpreters will resist the move to close off this activity prematurely; they will always recognize the provisionality of their work. That is, interpretive charity entails both a willingness to listen to differences and a willingness to hear those differences in their fullness. p. 89

[T]he real question facing the charitable interpreter concern how to address differences in interpretation. The first step is to note that all differences, all disagreements. Are only intelligible against a background of similarity and agreement. . . . Agreement may not be easy to display. For example, such things as the use of common vocabulary might actually obscure real differences and agreements. Charitable interpreters, then, may need to begin to address an interpretive dispute by exposing the nature and types of agreement lying beneath its surface. By doing this one sharpens and thereby clarifies the nature and type of disagreement. p. 90

A related habit of the charitable interpreter is the practice of maximizing the reasonableness of those with whom one differs. p. 90

[T]he charitable interpreter presumes that those who differ hold their differing views for good reasons and tries to display what those reasons are or were. p. 91

This entails that a charitable interpreter should deal with the strongest versions of opposing arguments. This may even require the charitable interpreter to recast opposing views to make them as strong as they can be. p. 91 (footnote 65)

[I]n any interpretive conflict, one’s ability to give a charitable account of a differing position is crucial to developing a superior position. As Alasdair MacIntyre has argued, in any interpretive conflict which is rationally resolved, the position which prevails will be the one that can show how it accounts for the strengths in alternative positions while avoiding the weaknesses in those alternatives. p. 91

[T]he presence of interpretive charity will not necessarily reduce interpretive disputes. Christians must recognize that disputes are constitutive of being part of a living tradition of people reading scripture in order to live holy lives and to worship God truthfully. Rather, interpretive charity is one element that shapes the ecclesial contexts in which we might then expect interpretive disputes to result in faithful living and truthful worship. p. 96

Next:

11. Working Out Our Salvation

Previous:

Bearing with One Another When We Disagree

1. Broken Love

2. A Life Worthy of the Calling

3. Grace First and Last

4. Three Movements of Mercy

5. Gathered Together at the Foot of the Cross

6. Free to be Wrong

7. Free to be Vulnerable in Love

8. Only What is Said Kindly is True

9. On Not Bearing False Witness