Interpreting Gospel Narratives

Timothy Wiarda

• Publisher: B&H Academic
• Year: 2010
• Print ISBN: 9780805448436
• eBook ISBN: 9781433671449
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Biblical Studies

The night of his arrest, Jesus spoke to his close followers about two testimonies that would focus on Him: the work of the Holy Spirit and their own personal accounts. Interpreting Gospel Narratives looks exclusively at the testimony given in the Gospels, exploring several ways to enrich our Gospel exegesis so that we may see Christ as clearly as possible.

Timothy Wiarda's book is primarily how-to, discussing questions of exegetical method that will help interpreters and expositors work with Gospel texts. He also discusses methodological questions relating specifically to the narrative material in the Gospels and focuses in on other fine details—the portrayal of individual characters, descriptive elements, the relation between theology and story, and more.

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Are Gospel Writers Interested in Individual Characters?

This chapter contains initial steps toward describing the Gospel writers’ interest in the people they portray. But at the outset it will be helpful to recall two roads that have been travelled in the past by interpreters wanting to focus on the Gospels’ portrayal of individuals. One of these is “the quest for the historical Jesus” that began in the nineteenth century, which saw many scholars searching the Gospels for what could be learned about Jesus’ personality and development. Their efforts were marked by various theological and methodological flaws, however, and this path eventually led to a dead end.¹ Perhaps the biggest error these interpreters made with respect to method concerned their perception of the Gospel genre. They treated the Gospels too much like modern biographies—narratives that systematically trace a person’s life and inward growth. This was a mistake, because none of the evangelists wrote with the primary aim of outlining Jesus’ life story in a way that traced his personal growth and development.² As scholars came to recognize this, and as other problems attending the life-of-Jesus movement became increasingly evident, the pursuit of biography in the Gospels fell into disrepute.

So this is a route to avoid. Nevertheless, we should be careful not to overreact and go to an opposite extreme. In rejecting the idea that the Gospels are like modern biographies, many interpreters have too quickly assumed that the evangelists display almost no interest in the personal traits and experiences of the people they describe—not even of Jesus himself, and thus even less of the more minor figures who fill the pages of the Gospels.

A second path that many have taken, and still take, is the popular tradition of character-based exposition. Within their repertoire of sermon styles, preachers have long included messages that analyze the experiences and personal qualities of Bible characters—sermons that could be loosely described as “biographical.” But theological education has grown more sophisticated, and such preaching has been charged (often rightly) with numerous faults. These range from an over-use of the imagination to the replacement of God-centered biblical theology with human-centered moralism. As a result of such unhealthy tendencies, students in today’s seminary classrooms are likely to be cautioned against the excesses of Gospel-based devotional biography. Such warnings are certainly fair, though once again there is a risk of overreaction. There are actually good reasons to affirm at least some of the insights and instincts of character-focused preaching. For one thing, this tradition takes Gospel characters seriously. It sees their portrayed experiences as a means to affect the experience of those who hear the Gospels read and expounded. As for the devotional tone that typifies this style of exposition, why should we not expect well-rounded Gospel interpretation to reflect an integration of doctrine with feeling or experience? Nevertheless, many who approach the Gospels to gain inspiration from the lives of the people they portray do fall into traps along the way. We examine some of these pitfalls in this book.

These examples from the past alert us to the difficulty of exploring the Gospels’ interest in individual characters. They also help explain why many contemporary scholars hesitate to pursue facets of Gospel narratives that hint at such interests.³ At the same time, the very fact that there have been such persistent attempts to interpret the Gospels along these lines suggests that there are elements in them that repeatedly lead readers to perceive significant characters—living people—in the Gospels.

We must now proceed with our own investigation. The question before us is this: If the Gospels do not present anyone’s full life story or offer a comprehensive analysis of anyone’s personal development, then what kind of portrayal of individuals do they offer? In this first chapter we consider four types of Gospel character portrayal: (1) the depiction of a moment of human experience, (2) the brief story of inward change, (3) consistent characterization, and (4) the story thread.

I. The Human Moment (Luke 5:12–16)

The phrase “the depiction of a moment of human experience” refers to a brief yet significant glimpse at a person in a Gospel episode. Such glimpses may highlight an aspect of the character’s condition, an attitude, a personal trait, a feeling, or any combination of these. These highlighted qualities lead to or come to expression in a particular moment of experience. In most instances this experience involves an encounter with another character. The narrative’s focus in such cases is therefore not just on one person but on two (one of whom is almost always Jesus) in interaction; the human moment is thus often a moment in a relationship. These brief pictures of individual attitudes and experience are the most common form of “biographical” interest that the Gospels display. They can be powerful, and they almost always contribute to the meaning and impact of the episodes where they occur.

The portrait of the leper in Luke 5:12–16 provides a good example. Readers of the more literal English versions may notice that the word “behold” is inserted just before this man is introduced: “While Jesus was in one of the towns, behold, a man full of leprosy.” The use of “behold” (

) is a common feature in Luke when a new character is brought onto the scene,⁴ so perhaps we should follow the practice of most modern translations and not assign the word any particular force here. On the other hand, even in Luke, “behold” does seem to add a note of emphasis in many of its contexts.⁵ So it is probably fair to conclude that the evangelist is telling us to take special notice of this man.

In just a few deft phrases, the narrative builds a picture of this person—his condition, his inward attitude, and the question on his mind. He has leprosy. In fact, as readers are told for emphasis, he is “full of leprosy.” In the cultural setting of the story, this single statement implied a great deal: physical suffering, social exclusion, religious impurity, and scant hope for any change. Such connotations would have been felt among Luke’s original hearers or readers, particularly among those from a Jewish background.

Then the leper’s manner of approaching Jesus is described. We should try to picture the scene. The leper falls on his face. He begs. He addresses Jesus as

—a title that conveys respect at the very least (“Sir”) and perhaps much more (“Lord”). What do these details combine to show us? A desperate man, acutely conscious of his need, humble before Jesus. What feelings do they evoke? Readers who give themselves time to visualize the scene, to indeed behold this man, are likely to be prompted to pity him and desire to see him healed.

Then we hear the leper’s appeal. What form does it take? He does not begin (as did the father of the demon-possessed boy depicted in another Gospel episode) by saying, “If you can do anything, help me” (Mark 9:22). The leper’s question is quite different. It concerns Jesus’ desire rather than his ability: “If you are willing.” Jesus’ response to the leper then picks up and repeats this emphasis. “I am willing,” he says.

Looking back over this whole scene, we can now see how effectively its opening portrayal of the leper’s condition and attitude prepares readers for the episode’s ultimate focus on Jesus’ willingness to heal. The description of the leper arouses our compassion. Because readers themselves are first led to feel compassion for this person, they can readily imagine that Jesus feels compassion as well. The quality of compassion goes hand in hand with a desire to help; it both motivates and characterizes such desire. The compassion-evoking portrayal of the leper thus enables readers to better understand Jesus’ response to the leper.

One more narrative detail then reinforces this theme of sympathy and readiness to heal. With a certain degree of emphasis, the narrator explains that Jesus reaches out his hand and touches the leper. A number of commentators suggest that Jesus’ gesture signals a message about his stance towards the Mosaic law, since according to the law lepers were ritually impure and therefore could not be touched. But surely this detail about Jesus’ reaching out to touch the leper does something more. At the level of common human experience, the gesture of touch conveys concern and personal connection, particularly when directed towards a person in need. Such connotations would be heightened all the more in a situation like the one depicted in the present scene, where the one receiving the touch is a person who has been barred from normal social contact.

And so the human moment unfolds. On one side there is desperate appeal, on the other compassionate touch. Though not the most highly developed or dramatic of Gospel episodes, this brief narrative does carry significant emotive force.⁶

The details through which this narrative portrays characters and human experience help clarify the theological and pastoral points it makes. If we are insensitive to this kind of clarification, our interpretation can become vague or perhaps even misdirected. Several episodes in the larger narrative of Luke’s Gospel record a healing or a deliverance. Do they all convey more or less the same general theological message? Is it only the incidental features that change as we move from one episode to another—here the person healed is a woman, there a man; here it is a case of paralysis, there of blindness? No. Each of these healing and deliverance stories does contribute to one common, underlying message, of course: that Jesus has power over sickness and Satan; that the age of salvation has come; that Jesus is Lord and Savior. But it is also true that each separate episode reveals a fresh and distinctive aspect of the great central truth that Jesus is the Savior. One episode may emphasize his authority, another the priority he attaches to forgiving sins, another the importance of faith, and yet another Jesus’ relation to the Sabbath. Faithful Gospel exposition must discover and highlight these distinctive pastorally directed points.

As we attempt to identify the special emphases of a particular Gospel episode, it naturally increases our confidence to find that our own conclusions coincide with the mainstream of interpretation. But if we discover that our exegesis is leading us in a different direction from the majority, we are forced to go back and think through the evidence more carefully—though we need not automatically abandon the track we have been on. The analysis of Luke’s story of the leper offered above, I am afraid, does not receive universal support in the commentaries. In fact, a survey of the recent works reveals that only a few commentators pick up strongly on the theme of Jesus’ compassionate readiness to heal.⁷ A review of the evidence is therefore in order.

There are three main reasons that many commentators perceive an emphasis other than compassion in this episode, and we must give them due consideration. First, some of the narrative details that I have taken to indicate the leper’s pity-evoking condition could be perceived as carrying a different nuance. For instance, some interpreters suppose that the detail that the man is “filled” with leprosy is designed to highlight the difficulty of the healing (and thus to set the stage for a display of Jesus’ power) rather than call attention to the depth of the leper’s misery (and thus, as I have argued, prepare the way for a demonstration of Jesus’ pity). Others see the leper’s prostration before Jesus as a sign of reverence more than desperation.

Second, Luke drops the explicit mention of Jesus’ compassion that Mark includes in his version of this story.⁸ Some take this as an indication that Luke is not interested in Jesus’ emotions.⁹

Third, a more fundamental influence on interpretation arises from the presence of a central theme that runs through several episodes in this section of Luke’s Gospel. This overarching theme, which relates to Jesus’ power and the in-breaking of the messianic age, tends to dominate commentators’ perception of the story of the leper’s healing. As interpreters have focused on this central theme in the larger section of Luke’s Gospel (not a bad thing in itself), they have been less sensitive to the presence of a distinctive emphasis in this individual episode. Factors such as these have led commentators to overlook the narrative’s focus on Jesus’ will or, when they do notice it, to interpret Jesus’ will primarily as an aspect of his power. According to this latter reading, the story is not shaped to highlight the compassionate direction of Jesus’ will (his desire to heal the leper), but rather its sovereign power (his ability to do whatever he wishes).¹⁰

But in this case the interpretive tendencies of the majority should be resisted. While it is true that some of this episode’s narrative details taken singly could bear more than one meaning or serve more than one purpose, their significance is far less ambiguous when they are seen in combination. Physical gestures and other details in a narrative scene function much like words in a sentence: they do not reveal their meanings in isolation, but rather in the company of all the other items in their immediate contexts. In this story, elements like the leper’s posture, the description of the extent of his disease, and Jesus’ touch are mutually reinforcing; they work together to convey one clear meaning: need met by compassion.

As for Luke’s omission of the direct reference to Jesus’ compassion that occurs in Mark, a comparison of the two Gospels reveals another difference that is equally significant: Luke adds a narrative detail that strengthens the theme of compassion. Luke shows the leper falling on his face rather than simply kneeling.¹¹ This strengthens the picture of this person’s desperation, and therefore of Jesus’ responsive compassion.¹² What Luke actually does is to rely more fully on a mode of character portrayal that concentrates on indirectly showing (through the depiction of a concrete action) rather than o...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Introduction
• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• Chapter 4
• Chapter 5
• Chapter 6
• Name Index
• Subject Index
• Scripture Index