Jesus of Nazareth: What He Wanted, Who He Was

A Basic Law of Salvation History

All the gospel texts quoted here that speak of abundance reveal a scarlet thread, a basic law of salvation history. Joseph Ratzinger, in an excursus, “Christian Structures,” in his Introduction to Christianity, called it the “law of excess or superfluity.”¹² It runs throughout the whole of that history but it finds its clearest expression in Jesus. He himself, Ratzinger says, “He is the righteousness of God, which goes far beyond what need be, which does not calculate, which really overflows; the ‘notwithstanding’ of his greater love, in which he infinitely surpasses the failing efforts of man.”¹³ This basic law of salvation history is put into words most fully in the parables of the lost son (Luke 15:11-32) and of the workers in the vineyard (Matt 20:1-16). But it also echoes in the sayings traditions in the gospels, as when Luke 6:38 says, “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.” It is an image from the market. The seller has filled a measure to the brim with wheat, then pressed the grains down with her hand so that there will be no empty space, shaken the whole so that the wheat is truly settled, and in the end poured a little mound on the top so that the measure overflows; finally, she pours an abundant measure of wheat into the skirt the buyer is holding open.

Superfluity, wealth, and extravagant luxury are thus the signs of the day of salvation—not skimpiness, meagerness, wretchedness, and need. Why? Because God’s very self is overflowing life and because God longs to give a share in that life. God’s love is without measure; God does not give to human beings according to the measure of their own good behavior or service.

Therefore the principle of superfluity is already revealed in creation. Biologists have long since observed that quantitative and qualitative extravagance plays a striking role in nature, and that evolution cannot be fully explained by a calculus of usefulness. Nature is “luxuriant.” What opulence is shown just in butterflies and flowers! What an abundance of seeds is produced in order to bring forth just one living thing! What an expanse of solar systems, Milky Ways, and spiral nebulae! A whole universe is squandered just to beget more and more extravagant life forms on one tiny planet and make a place for the human spirit.¹⁴

Perhaps one might continue—in shock and almost stuttering—what an extravagance of human beings, of whole peoples, until at last God found the one people to whom he could attach the abundance of his grace in the world. In the book of Isaiah God forthrightly speaks of this squandering of nations for the sake of his own people: “I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Saba in exchange for you. Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life” (Isa 43:3-4). But it also belongs to this side of divine extravagance that God—in the language of the New Testament—has given the one, the best and most precious of all human beings, has squandered him for the sake of the world. In light of the death of Jesus it is thus also clear that the extravagant abundance of salvation cannot be understood as a Neverland or utopia for consumers.

Overflowing grace can only reach human beings if they allow themselves to be taken into the service of God’s plan. The glory that illumines Israel through Jesus is intended not to create a better life for the elect but, by way of Israel, to bring the glory of God into the world.

Finally, while the disciples were promised a hundred brothers and sisters, a hundred houses and fields, it is only “with persecutions.” And the glory of Jesus that the miracle at Cana tells about will be made more explicit in the further course of the Fourth Gospel as a glory that finds its true shape only in Jesus’ “hour,” that is, in his suffering.¹⁵ But in any case we may say that Jesus does not enter into that suffering for its own sake, which would be masochism. He enters into that suffering for the sake of the reign of God, which he must also proclaim in Jerusalem and from which he does not subtract an iota. He knows that the reign of God comes “with persecutions,” but that does not deprive it of its brilliance and its fascinating abundance.

Chapter 15

Decision in Jerusalem