Jesus the Artist
"The BioLogos Forum" frequently features essays from The BioLogos Foundation's leaders and Senior Fellows. Please note the views expressed here are those of the author, not necessarily of The BioLogos Foundation. You can read more about what we believe here.
Today's entry was written by Pete Enns. Pete Enns is a former Senior Fellow of Biblical Studies for The BioLogos Foundation and author of several books and commentaries, including the popular Inspiration and Incarnation: Evangelicals and the Problem of the Old Testament, which looks at three questions raised by biblical scholars that seem to threaten traditional views of Scripture.
In a recent post, my colleague Mark Sprinkle drew a very helpful analogy between Jesus’ use of parables and the creative expressions of artists. There is one part of that post that I think is particularly important for BioLogos readers to grapple with, and I would like to expand on it below from the point of view of a biblical scholar.
[T]he purpose of Jesus’ “art” was to give verbal, visual, and dramatic forms to those complicated and confounding relationships and symmetries and harmonies between Himself (and the Father and Spirit) and the world, ourselves included in the latter. Such creative expressions did and do not make everything clear, but rather resist simple clarity, forcing their hearers to come at the whole complicated, opaque truth from a position of intellectual and spiritual humility.
Speaking in parables is indeed similar to an artist’s craft. Neither are systematic, logical arguments aimed at intellectual persuasion. Rather, they create impressions, whole new worlds of meaning intended to turn old worlds on their heads. Further, they do not always clarify, but actually can by design obscure a deeper reality. To apprehend that deeper reality, one must—like a patron facing a timeless painting—continue to seek, ponder, and meditate on what is being said.
Parables are radical pieces of communication meant to disorient the hearers and then reorient them to an entirely new way of thinking. The reason Jesus does so much story telling is because stories—not debate or other “proofs”—are best suited for such a whole scale reorientation. Jesus’ preaching, after all, was about the kingdom of heaven (or of God). This kingdom was not about where one goes after death, but a here-and-now transformation of how people thought about God and their relationship to him.
Jesus “explains” this new kingdom in several ways, one of which is the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), where Jesus lays out the types of behaviors that should now characterize the people of God. These new behaviors contrast again and again with the old and are fully at odds with what the religious leaders of the time were teaching the people. Jesus’ kingdom is counter-cultural.
But Jesus more often “shows” the people what this kingdom looks like by telling a good story, which regularly begins, “The kingdom of heaven is like….” Sometimes the best way to get an idea across is to paint a verbal picture, which is precisely what Jesus does in the parables.
Jesus’ stories are not like Aesop’s Fables (as interesting as they are), where there is a moral to the story. The parables are not about playing nice with each other. They actually plant you in a different world where things are running according to a wholly different set of rules of the kingdom of heaven.
We can see this by looking at one of Jesus’ favorite topics in the parables: how Jews related to Gentiles. Jewish identity was an extremely important and touchy issue in Jesus’ day. Even though the Jews had returned to their land after the exile (539 BC), they had been guests in their own land—first of the Persians, then Greeks, and now the Romans. How Jews could maintain their ethnic and religious identity in such a pressure cooker of pagan Greek and Roman ideas, not to mention the embarrassment of pagan rulers telling them what to do, was a sore point.
So, one can understand why Jewish attitudes towards tax collectors, for example, are a repeated concern in the Gospels. Tax collectors were fellow Jews who were traitors to their own people by collecting taxes for the Romans. They were even spoken of in the same breath as prostitutes (e.g., Matthew 21:31-32).
No “good Jew” committed to maintaining his or her identity amid a pagan world would lower themselves to work alongside the Romans. Yet, what does Jesus do? He associates with these (and other) “sinners” on a regular basis, and even calls a tax collector (Matthew) to be among his select group of followers. By his actions Jesus demonstrates that his kingdom operates by different, counter-intuitive, counter-cultural rules.
These types of concrete actions were supported again and again by Jesus’ parables. Such a radical change in how Jews viewed God, the world, and their place in it—where sinners and other outsiders were welcome—required a communication strategy that was up for the task.
Stories are that communication strategy. Parables were Jesus’ canvas for “painting” a new vision for what life in his kingdom should look like. And in Jesus’ kingdom, there was no longer any place for maintaining those fundamental ethnic and religious distinctions by which the Jews had been operating.
We can go to virtually any parable to make this point, but the well-known parable of the Good Samaritan works as well as any (Luke 10:30-37). We recall that what drove Jesus to tell this story was the question asked by the “expert in the law” (v. 25): “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus’ answer was this parable, and it carries a double punch.
First, the Jewish leaders step around the beaten man on the road—certainly a non-Jew—feeling no obligation to come to his aid. The point is that the leaders of Israel, of all people, should know enough of God’s character to stop and help him. They shouldn’t ask whether he is “one of us,” an insider. All one needs to know is that this human being needs help. In Jesus’ kingdom, carefully drawn lines of ethnic and religious separation are a thing of the past.
But second, on a deeper level, Jesus’ point is far more threatening. By calling upon a Samaritan as the “good guy” in this story—with all of the backdrop of cultural hostility—Jesus is making a more pressing point than “be good to everyone” (which is where the Sunday School lesson typically ends). The hated Samaritan sees the man lying there, and without asking questions about who he is—whether Jew, Samaritan, Greek, Roman, or anything else for that matter—helps him. The Samaritan, of all people, acts like a neighbor toward the man who needed help, the very thing the Jewish leaders failed to do.
By telling Jewish leaders that they have something to learn about their own God from, of all people, Samaritans, is not a suggestion to be more open-minded and tolerant. It is nothing less than a rewriting of the Jewish narrative or religious and ethnic identity. Jesus uses a story to paint a vivid mental and emotional picture for his hearers. No other medium would do.
It is sometimes thought that Jesus told stories because he wanted to persuade the masses, the common people who are not used to debating fine points of theology like the scribes and priests. This is partially true, but it is also true that the radical message of the kingdom of heaven required a means of communication that was best suited for it. Like any work of art, stories “create” new ways of seeing the world—and it is, after all, a new world that Jesus means to create.
Let me put this another way: Jesus himself communicated the deep mysteries of a new way of being through the use of such things as vivid imagery, symbolism, metaphors, and other devices common to artistic expression. In fact, the incarnation, God in human flesh, is not a debate or argument about the nature of God that appeals primarily to the intellect. It is a vivid—and true—demonstration, a portrait, of a radically new and mysterious way of thinking about God, the world, and our place in it.
If this is how God chooses to communicate at the incarnation—the very climax and epicenter of his story—we should not be surprised to see God painting vivid portraits elsewhere in Scripture. This is especially true of Genesis and creation. Something so fundamental to God’s story may need to be told in a way that transcends the limitations of purely intellectual engagement. Genesis may be written more to show us—by grabbing us with its images than laying out a timeline of cause and effect events—that God is the central figure on the biblical drama.
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February 1st 2011
Good post Pete!
Reply to this commentDave W
February 1st 2011
“In fact, the incarnation, God in human flesh, is not a debate or argument about the nature of God that appeals primarily to the intellect. It is a vivid—and true—demonstration, a portrait, of a radically new and mysterious way of thinking about God, the world, and our place in it.”
Right on target, however BioLogos has steadfastly avoided the exploration of the key Biblical metaphor of the Incarnation, Jesus as the Logos of God, as the primary way to understand the relationship between God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and God’s universe.
Reply to this commentFebruary 2nd 2011
In several of his essays Wendell Berry suggests that imagination is another way of understanding and (I might add) explaining. Hence the power of fiction (e.g., parables).
Bob Newman also wrote an essay called “Mooreeffoc in Narnia ... and the Bible” (http://www.newmanlib.ibri.org/Documents/MooreeffocNarnia.pdf) that relates to the idea of indirection.
But perhaps we should simply see all biblical stories as functioning on the same level as parables. Not that the histories are historical, but stories are always remembered, repeated, recorded, preserved for a reason—i.e., they not only tell us “what happened”, but also imply that there is some significance to the happening so that it continues to deserve reflection. And that, of course, leads to a discussion of the manner of their telling, since manner (uncovered by discourse or literary analysis, or both) is part of their particular and general significance. Which is what makes studying the parables—such short stories—so much fun.
Thanks, Pete!
Reply to this commentFebruary 2nd 2011
@Fred Putnam - #49889
Do you not feel there’s something reductionist about the argument, “There are parables in the Bible - so maybe the whole Bible is a parable”?
Notably, the parables themselves only have value because the source of their application had the authority of God’s Son. Otherwise, they’re mere speculation about how God works. If the Gospels themselves are a parable, the parables are less than that.
Reply to this commentFebruary 2nd 2011
While we could think of the parables as creative artistic expression, they still often seem to have a razor sharp point that is surrounded by or supported by lots of other sometimes unpleasant material. I.e. these aren’t necessarily beautiful pictures, all of them. For example, we may get all distracted by Jesus comparing God to an unjust judge when the point of the parable probably wasn’t about how God works so much as how we should pray (persistently). That one isn’t such a bad picture, although I have one atheist friend who sure stumbles on it. But consider this one which I’ve always been somewhat disturbed by: the wedding party where the host is snubbed by those he first favors with invitations, & so goes on to throw open the doors wide. All well & good until we hear of the guest who wasn’t dressed properly (they did come from the high-ways & bi-ways did they not?) and has the guest evicted from the banquet feast. If the point is focused on the last event, then I guess we mind our Ps & Qs—how our deeds adorn us, when in the presence of the Lord. But it sure doesn’t seem to match the rest of how Jesus related with the common folk & sinners.
Can anyone explicate that art for me?
—Merv
Reply to this commentFebruary 2nd 2011
John—(#49891)
It does seem to be exactly as reductionistic as saying that the Bible contains history, so therefore, all of the Bible must BE history. But both statements assume a common and agreed-upon understanding of what those genres are in a specific context, and I think the idea that the whole of the Bible has a parabolic structure (which I argued in the post Pete quotes) is very different from saying it’s somehow all just “a story.” The very nature of parable is the muti-layered intentionality and interpretive possibility of putting different, incongruous things together, whereas we think of “history” as being about giving a single interpretation—of narrowing the possibilities rather than opening them up. We tend to think we may discover the truth of “history” on our own, with our own reasoning, whereas the truth and full meaning of parables and whole Bible depend upon, flow from, and are given to us by Jesus, the Word of God. Put another way, while it may be reductionist to treat all of the Bible as “history” in the modern understanding of that term, to understand that the whole BIble has parabolic aspects is “expansionist” if you will, always subject to the leading and grace of the Spirit.
—Mark
Reply to this commentFebruary 2nd 2011
Hi, Merv (#49942)
I’ll not attempt to “explain” the wedding guest parable, but I’ve been fairly focused on that particular image for several years in my work as a painter and will share the one angle on the story that emerged through that work: remember that all the people at the feast at the end of the parable were the poor refuse of the town, utterly unfit to be there. Next consider that only a few seem to not be in the proper “wedding garments.” Where did they get them? It seems to me that they can only have been attired in clothes that honored the host and his son, the groom, if even the clothes were provided to the guests by the host, himself—yet another instance of the radical and profligate generosity of the master of the house. Therefore, if any were there not wearing the clothes, perhaps it was because they chose, even in the face of such kindness, to snub the host and dishonor the son. In terms of the imagery of salvation and fellowship with the Lord, this does not seem so much like a capricious act, but a recognition that there will always be those who refuse to give honor or thanks where they are due, and would rather be cast out than bend the knee, even having been invited, even been seated at the table.
Reply to this commentFebruary 2nd 2011
Fortunately there more than one versions of these parables. Mt 22:2-14 is parallel to Luke 14:16-24. Usually parables have only one point, such as the wedding feast were none of the original invitees come, most probably conventional Jews, only we Gentile rabble and Jewish outsiders attend. This means that we must accept this label of course.
When a second point is added, problems ensue, like when the rabble need to be dressed up. This may be a good point, but it appears that it might have been added later. Now for those who think that all parts of the Bible are of equal import, that is, inerrant this can be a problem.
Reply to this commentFebruary 3rd 2011
Mark,
I’m curious as to why parables are being used as an example of God explaining something to us when it seems that Jesus’ own explanation for why He gives the masses parables is so that they do not see, hear, and repent. In other words, they’re judgments upon the people. His disciples, in contrast, get everything plainly spoken. So it may be true that the Bible is all parable, but does that mean that God gives it for the same reason, and if not, are we manufacturing a new purpose for them? The actual OT parables also seem to be constructed in an attempt to mask the teaching rather than to communicate it. And if the Bible is parable, where is the plain teaching for God’s true disciples? Shouldn’t we rather say that perhaps the Bible is both all parable and all plain teaching at the same time, or at least a mixture of both, as Christ’s teaching is? This, of course, has an impact on how we view history in the Bible, as it would be both history and parable at the same time.
If you address this in your article, I’ll just read it; but by your statements, it didn’t sound like you were going in this direction.
Reply to this commentFebruary 3rd 2011
@ Roger A. Sawtelle - #49962
“Now for those who think that all parts of the Bible are of equal import, that is, inerrant this can be a problem.”
It seems to me the problem comes for those who *don’t” accept all parts of the Bible as equally important. They have to spend most of their time deciding which bits are original Jesus, which are Jewish, which are Jesus community, so they know what may be worth accepting, if they have enough time left to consider it.
The rest of us get on with the business of understanding the teaching - which could include that Jesus didn’t feel duty bound to restrict his parables to one point, or even to make the elements entirely compatible with one another. He can do what he likes with his own genre, can’t he?
Reply to this comment.
February 3rd 2011
Thanks, Mark (49954). The provision of garments makes sense. Knowledge of cultural practices probably help parables make more sense.
To Bryan (49986); I think the Bible also contains much of what we would probably call sarcasm. John 12:40 “He has blinded their eyes and he hardened their heart, Lest they should see with their eyes, And perceive with their heart, And would turn, And I would heal them.”
Things like this are repeated in the O.T. too. I don’t think it’s so much that God doesn’t want people to turn to him, rather than a sarcastic jab to prod them in that direction. Sort of like an exasperated teacher saying: “Well, if not everybody quiets down and listens, then I guess I won’t have to give out so many treats.”
—Merv
Reply to this commentFebruary 3rd 2011
Bryan— I don’t think either Pete or I would characterize the parables as directed towards “*explaining* things, per se, but rather presenting them in a new, powerful and rich way. Put another way, I think a distinctive feature of parables is that they are both obscuring and enlightening at the same time—they direct us to the fact that the Lord and life with him is complicated. For Jesus often got in trouble with the religious leaders when they got exactly what he was saying in a parable, such as the one about wicked tenants. And on the other hand, Jesus did speak to his disciples in “plain teaching” sometimes, but they didn’t always get that, either—nor do we. Perhaps the central lesson I take from that messiness in Biblical narrative in all its forms, and that is also the concluding line of thought in the paper and blog series, is that such confounding complexity has the purpose of drawing us towards the Father and each other in order to wrestle with the implications of Following Jesus. And that is also, I think, what the natural world we investigate through science can do for us, if we will let it and commit to exactly this kind of careful and humble conversation. So thank you!
Reply to this commentFebruary 3rd 2011
“is that such confounding complexity has the purpose of drawing us towards the Father and each other in order to wrestle with the implications of Following Jesus.”
It’s probably this that I don’t see as Jesus’ own explanation for why He gives the masses parables. I think what you’ve said is true if the parables exist in a larger narrative, like the Gospels, that explain them in plain language or in the literary context which presents them as parts in an overall theology. The problem would be if the entire Bible is a parable, there is no further plain teaching or context by which we might interpret them, and then, it seems that they are only judgments of God placed upon mankind.
Reply to this commentFebruary 3rd 2011
I do want to clarify that I don’t think Jesus is saying that no one can understand the parables. I think He is saying that they are given as a judgment by God, a sort of slap in the face to a rebellious people because they do not deserve for Him to speak plainly to them. So I think the Pharisees eventually do figure it out, as the text says they do. The problem is that they’re angered by it because it is a slap in the face rather than something that seeks to stretch us and know God more. It just seems that they are spoken for the exact opposite of what you’re making them out to be here, if isolated from the “plain teaching” that exists in further contexts.
Reply to this commentI know there is a long history of understanding parables the way you have, and I might be arguing up hill; but it seems that Christ tells us the reason they are employed, and then, proceeds to employ a different way of speaking to His people in opposition to it. I’m not sure how that can be reconciled, then, with what you’re arguing, unless we say that the Bible is both parable and “plain teaching” in some way.
February 3rd 2011
Jon,
Thank you for your comments. You are right that Jesus is not duty bound to do anything, except Jesus is a communicator. He is the Logos of God.
The parables did not come out of a vacuum. They are a genre used by prophets and rabbis to teach God’s people. Jesus was a rabbi. His disciples called Him Rabbi or Rabboni most of the time. He thus followed the rules of teaching parables that other rabbis followed.
The parables are simple and yet have surprising twists. They are intended to make people think. That is what we are called to do, to understand the Kingdom of God in all its simplicity and profundity. However the message is not just to understand, but to do and act, which we must do in order to understand.
Some abuse “scholarship” as you indicated, not to do and to act. Others abuse faith in the letter of the text also not to do and to act.
We are called to rightly understand the words of God. That is not an easy task. In the Bible context is very important and any help we can get by comparing different versions of the same basic story is very helpful.
Reply to this commentFebruary 4th 2011
@Roger A. Sawtelle - #50032
Roger, I guess my problem is that to explain “anomalies” in parables, form criticism postulates that the first generation of Christians (and/or the Evangelists) were so convinced of the Spirit’s presence that they took their own words as equivalent to Jesus’s own. So they weren’t concerned to record his teaching intact.
If that indeed were so (which is a big presumption about their faith) they were close enough to Jesus to have got that big understanding of the Spirit’s role from him. After all it’s hard to think of any other movement that spent the 30 years after the death of its charismatic leader (aka God) churning out new dominical teachings to follow steadfastly unto death.
So what qualifications have we, 2,000 years after the event, to labour to tease out the “real” Jesus’s teaching, if the real Jesus was teaching through the early Church? Or if, indeed, it is his own teaching that presents “irregularities”?
Reply to this commentFebruary 4th 2011
I do not agree with form criticism in this respect. I do not think that there is any need to do a wholesale criticism of the Bible. One the other hand as I said there are particular places where one can examine parallels and find some issues.
The best way to study the Bible is through the Bible, looking for internal consistencies and inconsistencies. The consistencies are overwhelming in my judgement, but there are enough inconsistences to make one careful about making rash decisions based on superficial examination and incomplete data, which is as it should be.
Reply to this comment