Christmas Reflection: The Six Most "Un-Christlike" Things Christ Did

Part V
The Six Most "Un-Christlike" Things Christ Did

In this Christmas season of the Church, we ought to spend time rediscovering Jesus. Who is this God-man? What did he do? Why should we love him? Why is our Church founded and grounded in him? Look for a series of posts leading up to the Epiphany on January 6 that reawaken our love for Christ and the Church.

WWJD: What would Jesus do?

It’s a great question. Christians are of course supposed to follow the example of Christ.

There can be a problem, though, when the answers people give to the question are disconnected from Scripture. People can end up just taking whatever they would do and then claim Jesus probably would have done it, too. But the Jesus described in the New Testament does not fit well with many of our modern sensibilities.

Yes, Jesus taught love, mercy, and sacrifice. But these things, if viewed from a contemporary lens, can easily be reduced to a kind of hollow sentimentalism. The Jesus of the Gospels, on the other hand, was deeply serious – both about loving others, and about sin.

So here are 6 things Jesus did that many people today would probably brand as “unChrist-like.”

1) Called people names

You might just want to read all of chapter 23 in Matthew’s Gospel.

Jesus gives a long and detailed attack on the moral character of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, and he pulls no punches. Among the names he calls them are “snakes,” “brood of vipers,” “hypocrites,” and “blind guides.” Ouch.

2) Offended people without apology

In Matthew chapter 15, some Pharisees and teachers of the law challenge Jesus about why he and his disciples don’t keep a certain tradition of the elders. In response, Jesus ignores their question, calls them hypocrites, and points out how they contradict the law of God with some of their traditions.

Then Jesus’ disciples come to him and say, “Do you know that the Pharisees were offended when they heard this?”

Jesus’ response? He offers no apology, no attempt at clarification, but continues his critique: “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be pulled up by the roots. Leave them; they are blind guides. If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit.”

3) Warned against laughter

A lot of people have heard of the Beatitudes as they appear in Matthew chapter 5: “Blessed are the poor in spirit… blessed are those who mourn… blessed are the meek,” etc.

A similar set of blessings also appear in Luke chapter 6, except that they are also paired with corresponding warnings:

But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.

All four of these are challenging. But notice that the 3rd one is a warning against laughing. Imagine the headlines if Jesus had preached this today. He’s probably be branded as some sort of rigid, humorless archconservative.

4) Cleared the Temple with a whip

One of the times Jesus’ visited the Temple in Jerusalem, the Gospel of John says “he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money.” His response?

So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!”

It’s easy to read over these words quickly without grasping their full import. He made a whip, and used it to at least drive the animals out of the Temple, and possibly the people as well (there’s ambiguity with the word “all”). He flipped tables and scattered people’s money around, while he was also driving them out.

This was not just some nice request.

5) Was intentionally opaque in his teaching

Jesus had so many memorable parables. He told them because stories are easier for common people to understand and remember, right?

Actually, it’s the opposite.

In Matthew chapter 13, Jesus is asked point-blank: “Why do you speak to the people in parables?” And here’s his answer: Because the knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them. Whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them. This is why I speak to them in parables: “Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand.”
In other words, it appears that Jesus taught in parables to make it hard for the average person to understand. He then revealed the meaning of his parables secretly to his close disciples.

6) Preached graphic depictions of hell

Everyone knows that “fire and brimstone” preaching is ineffective and, in any case, antithetical to the spirit of the Gospel of love, right?

Then why did Jesus preach about hell so much?

Jesus gave horrifying descriptions of the place. Throughout the Gospels we find that Jesus describes hell as a place of “weeping and gnashing of teeth,” a place where “the worms that eat them do not die, and the fire is not quenched,” a “blazing furnace,” “darkness,” “unquenchable fire,” and “the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Several of these descriptions he repeats several times.)

And he constantly warns people from doing things that would get them sent there. So maybe preaching about hell isn’t so bad?

Christmas Reflection: And They Crucified Him

Part IV:

And They Crucified Him

In this Christmas season of the Church, we ought to spend time rediscovering Jesus. Who is this God-man? What did he do? Why should we love him? Why is our Church founded and grounded in him? Look for a series of posts leading up to the Epiphany on January 6 that reawaken our love for Christ and the Church.

A medical doctor provides a physical description: The cross is placed on the ground and the exhausted man is quickly thrown backwards with his shoulders against the wood. The legionnaire feels for the depression at the front of the wrist. He drives a heavy, square wrought-iron nail through the wrist deep into the wood. Quickly he moves to the other side and repeats the action, being careful not to pull the arms too tightly, but to allow some flex and movement. The cross is then lifted into place. The left foot is pressed backward against the right foot, and with both feet extended, toes down, a nail is driven through the arch of each, leaving the knees flexed. The victim is now crucified.

As he slowly sags down with more weight on the nails in the wrists, excruciating fiery pain shoots along the fingers and up the arms to explode in the brain -- the nails in the wrists are putting pressure on the median nerves. As he pushes himself upward to avoid this stretching torment, he places the full weight on the nail through his feet. Again he feels the searing agony of the nail tearing through the nerves between the bones of his feet.

As the arms fatigue, cramps sweep through his muscles, knotting them deep relentless, and throbbing pain. With these cramps comes the inability to push himself upward to breathe. Air can be drawn into the lungs but not exhaled. He fights to raise himself in order to get even one small breath.

Finally, carbon dioxide builds up in the lungs and in the blood stream, and the cramps partially subsided. Spasmodically, he is able to push himself upward to exhale and bring in life-giving oxygen.

Hours of limitless pain, cycles of twisting, joint-renting cramps, intermittent partial asphyxiation, searing pain as tissue is torn from his lacerated back as he moves up and down against rough timber. Then another agony begins: a deep, crushing pain deep in the chest as the pericardium slowly fills with serum and begins to compress the heart.

It is now almost over. The loss of tissue fluids has reached a critical level. The compressed heart is struggling to pump heavy, thick, sluggish blood into the tissues. The tortured lungs are making frantic effort to gasp in small gulps of air. He can feel the chill of death creeping through his tissues.

Finally, he allows his body to die.

All this the Bible records with the simple words, "and they crucified Him" (Mark 15:24).

-- C. Truman Davis, M.D., M.S., Arizona Medicine, Vol. 22 No. 3 March 1965

Christmas Reflection: My Son's Sacrifice

Part III:
Prologue from Rediscover Catholicism by Matthew Kelly

In this Christmas season of the Church, we ought to spend time rediscovering Jesus. Who is this God-man? What did he do? Why should we love him? Why is our Church founded and grounded in him? Look for a series of posts leading up to the Epiphany on January 6 that reawaken our love for Christ and the Church.

Imagine this.

You’re driving home from work next Monday. You turn on the radio and you hear a brief report about a small village in India where some people have suddenly died, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. It’s not influenza, but 4 people are dead, so the CDC is sending some doctors to India to investigate.

You don’t think to much about it—people die every day—but coming home from church the following Sunday you hear another report on the radio, only now they say it’s not 4 people who have died, but 30,000 in the back hills of India. Whole villages have been wiped out and experts confirm this flu is a strain that has never been seen before.

By the time you get up Monday morning, it’s the lead story. The disease is spreading. IT’s not just India that is affected. Now it has spread to Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, and northern Africa, but it still seems far away. Before you know it, you’re hearing about this story everywhere. The media have now coined it “the mystery flu.” The president had announced that he and his family are praying for the victims and their families, and are hoping for the situation to be resolved quickly. But everyone is wondering how we are ever going to contain it.

That’s when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe: He is closing the French borders. No one can enter the country and that’s why that night you’re watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman’s word are translated into English from a French news program: There’s a man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu. It has come to Europe.

Panic strikes. As best they can tell, after contracting the disease, you have it for a week before you even know it, then you have 4 days of unbelievable symptoms, and then you die.

The British close their borders, but it’s too late. The disease breaks out in Southampton, Liverpool, and London, and on Tuesday morning the President of the US makes the following announcement: Due to a national-security risk, all flights to and from the US have been canceled. IF your loved ones are overseas, I’m sorry. They cannot come home until we find a cure for this horrific disease.

Within 4 days, America is plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are wondering, what if it comes to this country? Preachers on TV are saying it’s the scourage of God. Then on Tuesday night you are at church for boble study when someone runs in from the parking lot and yells, “Turn on a radio!” And while everyone listens to a small radio, the announcement is made: Two women are lying in a hospital in NYC dying of the mystery flu. It has come to America.

Within hours the disease envelops the country. People are working around the clock, trying to find an antidote but nothing is working. The disease breaks out in CA, OR, AR, FL, MA, it’s as though it’s just sweeping in from the borders.

Then suddenly the news come out: The code has been broken. A cure has been found, A vaccine can be made. But it’s going to take the blood of somebody who hasn’t been infected. So you and I are asked to do just one thing; Go to the nearest hospital and have our blood tested. When we hear the sirens go off in our neighborhood, we are to make out way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospital.

Sure enough, by the time you and your family get to the hospital it’s late Friday night. There are long lines of people and a constant rush of doctors and nurses taking blood and putting labels on it. Finally it is your turn. You go first , then your spouse and children follow, and once the doctors have taken your blood they say to you, “Wait here in the parking lot for your name to be called.” You stand around with your family and neighbors, scared, waiting, wondering. Wondering quietly to yourself, what on earth is going on here? Is this the end of the world? How did it ever come to this?

Nobody seems to have had their name called; the doctors just keep taking peoples blood. But then suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He’s yelling a name and waving a clipboard. You don’t hear him at first. “What’s he saying?” Someone asks. The young man screams the name again as he and a team of medical staff run in your direction, but again you cannot hear him, But then your son tugs on your jacket and says, “Daddy, that’s me, That’s my name they’re calling” Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. “Wait a minute, Hold on!” you say, running after them. “That’s my son.”

“It’s okay,” they reply. “We think he has the right blood type. We just need to check one more time to make sure he doesn’t have the disease.”

Five tense minutes later, outcome the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging each other; some are even laughing. It’s the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week. An old doctor walks up to you and your spouse and says, “thank you, your son’s blood is perfect. It’s clean, it’s pure, he doesn’t have the disease, and we can use it to make the vaccine.”

As the news begins to spread across the parking lot, people scream and pray and laugh and cry. You can hear the crowd erupting in the background as the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your spouse aside to say, “I need to talk to you. We didn’t realize that the donor would be a minor and we…we need you to sign a consent form.”

The doctor presents the form and you quickly begin to sign it, but then your eyes catches something. The box for the number of pints of blood to be takes is empty.

“How many pints?” you ask. That is when the old doctors smile fades, and he says,”We had no idea it would be a child. We weren’t prepared for that”.

You ask him again, “how many pints?” The old doctor looks away and says regretfully, “We are going to need it all!”

“But I don’t understand. What do you mean you need it all? He’s my only son!”

The doctor grabs you by the shoulders, pulls you close, looks you straight in the eyes, and says, “We are talking about the whole world here, Do you understand? The whole world. Please sign the form. We need to hurry!”

“But can’t you give him a transfusion?” You plead.

“If we had clean blood we would, but we don’t. Please, will you sign the form?” What would you do?

In numb silence you sign the form because you know it’s the only thing to do. Then the doctor says to you, “Would you like to have a moment with your son before we get started?”

Could you walk into that hospital room where your son sits on a table saying, “Daddy? Mommy? What’s going on?” Could you tell your son you love him? And when the doctors and nurse come back in and say, “I’m sorry we’ve got to get started now; people all over the world are dying,” could you leave? Could you walk out while your son is crying out to you, “Mom? Dad? What’s going on? Where are you going? Why are you leaving? Why have you abandoned me?”

The following week, they hold a ceremony to honor your son for his phenomenal contribution to humanity…but some people sleep through it, others don’t even bother to come because they have better things to do, and some people come with pretentious smiles and pretend to care, while others sit around and say, “This is boring!” Wouldn’t you want to stand up and say, “Excuse me! I’m not sure if you aware of it or not, but the amazing life you have, my son died so that you could have that life. My son died so that you could live. He died for you. Does it mean nothing to you?”

Perhaps this is what God wants to say.

Father, seeing it form your eyes should break our hearts. Maybe now we can begin to comprehend the great love you have for us.

Kelly, M. (2010). Rediscovering Catholicism (2nd ed.). Cincinnati, OH: Beacon Publishing.

Christmas Reflection: That's My King

Part II
That's My King

In this Christmas season of the Church, we ought to spend time rediscovering Jesus. Who is this God-man? What did he do? Why should we love him? Why is our Church founded and grounded in him? Look for a series of posts leading up to the Epiphany on January 6 that reawaken our love for Christ and the Church.

Today, soak in this sermon from Dr. S. M. Lockridge.

Christmas Reflection: Who is Jesus?

Christmas Reflection: Who is Jesus?
Part I
Evening Reflection by Fr. James Martin, SJ

In this Christmas season of the Church, we ought to spend time rediscovering Jesus. Who is this God-man? What did he do? Why should we love him? Why is our Church founded and grounded in him? Look for a series of posts leading up to the Epiphany on January 6 that reawaken our love for Christ and the Church.

Who is Jesus? Your Internally Displaced, Homeless, Refugee, Poor, Low-Class, Jewish, Palestinian, Uneducated, Possibly Illiterate, Dark-Skinned Savior.

Remember that the person whose birth we celebrate at Christmas was born to an internally displaced couple, that is, people who were forced to be on the move within their own country. At the time of the boy's birth, perhaps for a few days or weeks, Mary and Joseph were also homeless. With no place to stay, they found shelter in either a stable or a cave. Soon, they would become full-fledged refugees, that is, people crossing the border of another country, in this case Egypt, out of fear of, in this case, violence. Remember that when we're talking about IDs, Mary and Joseph had none. And when we're talking about borders, Mary and Joseph crossed one. Twice, actually. On their way into Egypt and then when they returned to Galilee. Overall, they knew what it was like to be seeking shelter far from home.

The boy was a Jew. As were Mary and Joseph. As was the boy's entire extended family. As, by the way, were all the apostles. They lived in what was called Palestine by the Romans, who occupied the territory. So Mary, Joseph and Jesus all knew political oppression.

They knew poverty, too. Joseph's trade was, most likely in the eyes of those at the time, seen as "low class." The Greek used by the Gospels to describe his profession is "tekton," which is more accurately translated not as carpenter, but craftsman, handyman, or even day laborer. The occupation probably didn't garner much respect, and was seen as ranking below the peasantry, since the "tekton" didn't have the benefit of a plot of land.

The family was from a minuscule town. Nazareth was both poor and small, with only about 200 to 400 inhabitants in Jesus's time. Jesus's hometown, in other words, could have likely fit into your local church. The Apostle Nathanael mocks it when he hears where Jesus is from. "Can anything good come from Nazareth?," he says. Some scholars believe this was a saying popular at the time, perhaps a common put down Jesus's place of origin, and Jesus.

While Jesus may been able to read (many scholars believe that when he quoted Scripture, he was not reading it, but doing it from memory--in his oral culture) it is almost certain that neither Mary or Joseph could. None of the three could be considered "educated." Indeed, most scholars believe Jesus was probably illiterate.

Jesus also would have looked nothing like what we see on 99% Christmas cards, or 99% of Christmas creches, or 99% of Christmas movies. Nor would Mary and Joseph. Nor would Elizabeth, Zechariah, Anna, Simeon, John the Baptist, or any figures from the stories of his birth.

It's impossible to know exactly what they looked like, but they were surely much darker skinned than what we see in 99% of portraits. A few years ago, scientists reconstructed the face of a man from around Jesus's time, using remains of several people from first-century Palestine (seen here). Somewhat ridiculously, the reconstruction was touted as the "Face of Jesus," which is like digging up skulls from a Mount Vernon graveyard from around the time of George Washington, using them as the basis for reconstruction, and saying, this is the "Face of George Washington."

But it's not so ridiculous in that the facial reconstruction reminds us what people of Jesus's time and his family's ethnicity looked like in general. And, again, it is much closer to the look of people in the modern Middle Eastern than modern Europe or the United States. He certainly wasn't white.

So to recap:

Internally displaced.
Homeless for a time.
Full-fledged refugee.
Poor.
Low-class occupation.
Jewish.
Palestinian.
Uneducated.
Possibly illiterate.
Dark skinned.

In other words, a lot of the categories people tend to demonize today. So when discussions about anyone from any of those categories come up, and you wonder about the Christian thing to do, remember who Jesus Christ really was.

Family of 12 Paradies the 12 Days of Christmas

Wait until the end. It's worth it for their reply to the "strangers" in the song.