Signs and Wisdom

For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 1 Corinthians 1:22-24

One of the most challenging things for any Christian, and especially for preachers, is to take words written to first-century people and make them intelligible to those living now. There are so many pitfalls along the way that one might almost despair. One response is to preach on something other than the Bible. Another is to take those words – especially when enshrined in a particular English translation – and apply them as though there is no difference between then and now. It is true that human nature has changed little, but words have cultural context, and translators have to make decisions when faced with multivalent meanings. One only has to read a popular paraphrase like The Message to see how far a translator can stray from the original text in an effort to make the Bible appealing.

Jews demand signs. That’s what the first half of the Gospel of John is all about: signs. At Cana, Jesus turns water into wine and heals an official’s child. But these signs only occur after belief in the words of the Word. Jesus’ mother tells the wine servants to do whatever he tells them to do. When the official is initially rebuked by Jesus for wanting a sign, he simply reiterates his plea for his deathly ill son. Jesus speaks again and the man believes in the words of Jesus. These are signs freely given. But they are not enough for “the Jews,” who in John’s Gospel are those who refuse to believe in Jesus. Most likely this was the Gospel community’s own experience, as Jewish Christians expelled from the synagogue for their faith – and who, like the Apostle Paul, carried their animosity with them.

Greeks desire wisdom. In high school I had a remarkable history teacher who introduced us to the culture of ancient Greece. Not many tenth graders get to read Plato’s Republic or Greek drama! Years later, after learning to read New Testament Greek, I thought I’d try to master the older language of Plato. Wrong! It is even more complex, making Latin seem simple. I now understand why philosophy originated in ancient Greece. With the intricate nuances of their language, the Greeks thought they could explain all wisdom in words.

But we preach Christ crucified. The common factor for both Jews and Greeks was that they wanted proof – something they could either see or put into words. In that way they are not too different from people today. Some must see to believe. Others want to be convinced through logical reasoning. But that is not what Christians have to offer. We have only the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ to which we can point. As Kenneth Leach says in We Preach Christ Crucified, the crucified God “is either the most extraordinary and wondrous truth, or the most bizarre blasphemy.” Christian preaching is “a dangerous attempt to convey something of an experience of power and liberating grace flowing out of the heart of desolation and darkness.” The Christian experience goes against the grain. And yet somehow it makes sense. When, as an atheist, G. K. Chesterton was trying to make sense of the paradoxes of life, he discovered again and again that Christianity had been there first, embracing the paradoxes and giving them meaning. He became a believer.

The crucified God is indeed an extraordinary and wondrous truth. On the surface, it is a scandalous sign and utterly foolish. But for those who believe, it becomes the power to overcome all that is evil in the world, the wisdom that explains what we cannot put into words. It is the paradox that makes all things clear. And that is as true in the twenty-first century as it was in the first.

[Lent 3: 1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John 2:13-22.]