Saturday of the Eighth Week in Ordinary Time
As annoying as it must have been for Jesus, the question that the chief priests, scribes, and elders asked him was still a good one. No doubt, they were familiar with certain individuals of their day claiming this or that divine insight—perhaps even claiming themselves to be the Messiah. And, so, they were skeptical of Jesus as they had been of others.
But, of course, Jesus wasn’t the typical prophet. He wasn’t just saying incredible things no one had heard before; he was also doing amazing things—other-worldly things. We might imagine that should have been enough to convince these men that Jesus was of God. Spoiler alert: it did not.
Indeed, the fact that Jesus was saying and doing extraordinary things only made their question more pressing. These powerful men, interested to keep things more or less as they already were, desperately needed to know where it was that this incredibly popular prophet’s power came from. And, perhaps of particular relevance was the question that lurked behind the one they asked: Was the source of his power benevolent or malevolent?
Rather than answer them outright and say that it was by God’s authority (or something like that) that he spoke and acted, Jesus demanded that they answer a question he had for them: What did they say was the origin of or authority behind John’s baptism? Moreover, was it divine or human?
Now, to the priests, scribes, and elders, Jesus’s question likely felt as if it was coming out of left field. After all, everyone knew (including Jesus) that they were the ones with the power in this scenario and, thus, they were the ones entitled to ask Jesus questions (not the other way around). Also, they were clearly playing offense. If they could get Jesus to put a name to the origins of his power, then they would be at liberty to construe that name any way they saw fit. Once Jesus gave his source a name, they could say what that name meant, whether it was legitimate or suspect, whether it was good or bad and, thus, whether Jesus was to be embraced or feared.
So, what was Jesus doing by answering their question with his own rather perplexing question?
For one thing, he refused to take their bait. Jesus knew very well what the powerful men of his day were up to, and it wasn’t any good. So, rather than give him what they wanted, he turned the tables by putting a similar question to them. Concerned first with what they knew would be the negative political fallout of a definitive response either way, they chose to vague it. In doing so, they forfeited the power to make Jesus answer them. Jesus escaped their little discursive trap. And, on the off chance that they didn’t appreciate what just happened, Jesus instructs them: He won’t be putting himself, his power, or the authority with which he speaks and acts into a neat little category for them to do with as they please. Score one for Jesus!
Another thing Jesus was doing was reminding us that he refuses to be limited by any category or definition that we come up with to make him more understandable or likable or reasonable or whatever.
In its wisdom, the Church does not invite us to sing the logic or certainty or clarity of faith. Instead, we sing “the mystery of faith.” And in that phrase we admit the limits of what we can know about Jesus and, in doing so, we embrace his power to do amazing things. Even now.
—Susan Trollinger