Jesus was a Failure

By
Pam
– November 13, 2009Posted in: Pam Hogeweide

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A baby boy was born a bastard to a young woman who told her closest family and friends that God had impregnated her. Born in a barn with nary a midwife, this son of the Most High God arrived with the trumpet blasts of sheep bleating and camels spitting.

The boy grew up with an unremarkable childhood in an unremarkable family. His “dad” was a common carpenter.

He took on the family trade and for a while this seemed to go well. Perhaps he would finally marry, fretted his mother. But he did not. Instead, his piety and devotion to the Hebrew faith deepened with time and age. Before his thirtieth birthday he would abandon carpentry and become a full-time itinerant rabbi.

His message was extraordinary, considering his lack of education and credentials. He might have attracted a scholarly reputation had he been connected to the right people. But he was a commoner, a Galilean and they weren’t known for having much influence with the temple power brokers.

He did have a certain charisma. Soon he had a following, mostly young zealots disillusioned with living under Roman occupation. They weren’t very educated. Mostly fisherman.

But together they lived, all of them having abandoned their livelihoods and hometown villages.

The Galilean talked much about the kingdom of God. He described God as a Father, an unheard of utterance since Hosea the prophet.

The rabbi traveled with his ragtag band to a few towns and villages in their region. He did strange things like talk with women of ill-repute and pray for the blind while putting spittle on their close eyes. He had an authority that none of them had ever seen yet each one recognized. “You are the Christ,” said Peter, the loud one of the traveling band.

He hated talk of revolution, which is what most of his disciples wanted to talk about. They knew that the Messiah would come to liberate their land from the oppressive occupation of the mighty Roman empire. “We can call down fire on our enemies if you will command it, Lord!” they said.

“No,” said the Galilean.  “Love your enemies. Pray for those who mistreat you. Turn the other cheek.”

The Galilean’s fame began to spread beyond the modest confines of his simple life. Multitudes began to search for him, begging him to pray for their sick sons and daughters. Even a Roman officer asked him to pray for his servant, a man who was rumored to be the soldier’s lover. The Galilean did not refuse  him. He prayed and the man was healed.

The magic of the Galilean was disturbing to the local religious leaders. He said he was only doing the will of God his Father. His father!  Such outrageous familiarity angered the Pharisees and High Council. This Galilean must be insane, but the crowds love him. They came to view him as an unstable teacher with growing power to upset the delicate balance of politics and religion. “He must be stopped before the crowds grow too big to control!” They plotted and schemed. His demise was certain.

The Galilean sensed his life was in danger. He gathered his closest friends for a special meal. Together they ate the Passover meal with their rabbi saying bewildering things like, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

That night he was arrested. Flogged. Then crucified. For all of Jerusalem to witness. Like a  common criminal.

His followers fell into despair. Where was their Messiah? Was he not the Christ, the Promised One? Was he not the One who was going to deliver their nation from the unjust tyranny of Rome’s grip? How could they have been  so gullible as to follow a mere man.

Jesus was a failure. There was no revolution. No grand plan for an epic showdown between good and evil. At least not from their vantage point.

But that’s not the end of the story, now is it?

Jesus in many ways was a failure. He did not own land nor marry and have children so as to leave an heir. He did not arrive to a position of influence or financial independence. His whole life was lived under the shadow of bastard. His own family rejected the claims that he was come of God.

Jesus was executed like hundreds of others guilty of crimes such as murder, theft, and treason.

The skies did not open when he hung on the cross. The power of God was absent. “Why have you forgotten me!” was one of his last prayers of despair.

And yet that’s not the end of the story.

Success comes disguised as failure for some of us. Rejection becomes our direction. The long, dark night of the soul quietly glows with the hope of the light of the world.

Jesus the Galilean and Son of God. Died in failure only to resurrect in the place of total hopelessness.

And that is still not the end of the story. Nor of ours.

About Pam

Pam Hogeweide lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband and two teenaged children. She is a freelance writer who specializes in writing on issues of faith and progressive Christian spirituality. She has been published in numerous print and online publications and is currently working on her first book project. Pam blogs at How God Messed Up My Religion; she also is a contributor for Off the Map and Shapevine, two faith organizations that help fuel forward-thinking Christ followers. Pam is also a religion correspondent for The Examiner, a journal that utilizes citizen journalists as insider sources for over 100 cities nationwide.