Jesus of Nazareth: What He Wanted, Who He Was

A man who has wasted his inheritance and tossed away his rights as a son remembers that in his father’s house even the day laborers “have bread enough and to spare” (Luke 15:17). He returns home and is immediately taken back into the family by his father, who runs to meet him. The lost son receives a signet ring and a new robe; the fatted calf is slaughtered, and a feast of joy begins (Luke 15:11-32). A king forgives a failed debtor who has wrecked his whole life by running up a debt of ten thousand talents (or a hundred million denarii). A whole day’s work was required to earn even one denarius, so the king forgives a sum corresponding to the value of a hundred million working days (Matt 18:23-35). A property owner treats the day laborers he has hired at the very last hour of the afternoon to work in the harvest in his vineyard as though they had worked all day: when evening comes he pays them a full day’s wage (Matt 20:1-16).

Wherever we look we see that the gospels speak of overflowing abundance, extravagance, and superfluity. And it is not only the parables that do this. In Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper, a woman breaks an alabaster jar of the costliest nard oil and pours it on Jesus’ hair; some of those present are upset and speak of meaningless waste, but Jesus defends the woman (Mark 14:3-9). Peter and his companions, after having worked all night without success, put out to sea again at Jesus’ command and soon draw to the shore nets filled to the point of breaking with fish (Luke 5:1-11).

The disciples of John the Baptizer and the Pharisees fasted regularly as a sign of penance and humility before God; the Pharisees went so far as to fast two days a week. Jesus was once asked why his disciples did not keep fast days, and he answered, “The [sons of the wedding banquet hall] cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them, can they?” (Mark 2:19). The “sons of the wedding banquet hall” are the friends of the bridegroom and all the guests at the wedding. So Jesus sees the time that has arrived with his preaching of the reign of God as a wedding, God’s wedding with God’s people—and a wedding means abundance, generosity, and superfluity. It is impossible to fast during the days of the wedding feast!

This motif of superfluity that runs throughout the gospels culminates in the stories of the wedding at Cana and the so-called miraculous multiplication of the loaves. With regard to these two narratives I follow the principle I laid down in the first chapter: the historical reality cannot be grasped independently of the interpretation. Whatever lies behind these two narratives, historically speaking, they reflect, concentrate, and interpret the extravagant fullness of the reign of God as Jesus proclaimed and lived it.¹⁰

A Wedding

At the very beginning of Jesus’ public activity the Fourth Evangelist tells of an event that culminates in an extravagant abundance (John 2:1-12). It takes place in Cana at a wedding that threatens to end pathetically because the wine has run out. The surplus associated with Jesus’ coming is shown here in a wine miracle he performs. The narrative carefully develops the fact that he gives the wedding company a huge quantity of wine, for it is not the clay jars ordinarily used to hold wine that are filled with water at Jesus’ command, but six stone jars meant for ritual purification, therefore hewn from stone and unusually large. Each of these vessels, according to the evangelist, contained two to three metretes, or about a hundred liters. Thus in total about five to seven hundred liters of water are changed into wine. But the narrator not only states these detailed amounts; he adds very deliberately, “They filled [the jars] up to the brim.”

Such details reveal the narrator’s intention, which is to say that Jesus’ gift is lavish. Here there is no thought of restriction, measuring, limiting, hoarding. The huge stone jars are brimful. And yet it is not enough that the abundance of wine be made evident. The narrative is just as explicit about the quality of the wine. It even introduces a separate person, the architriklinos—the one who supervises meals, and especially the mixing and distribution of wine. The architriklinos does not know where the wine in the stone jars has come from, and he is extremely offended that he is just now being told about it. The “wine rule” he pronounces (good wine is offered at the beginning and not at the end of the feast!) serves within the narrative to say modestly that the wine now being poured is a good, indeed, an outstanding vintage of the finest quality.

Thus the fullness that comes with Jesus does not remain something supersensory, internal, purely spiritual, transcendent; it is visible and tangible; it can be tasted and enjoyed.

A Banquet