This is going to seem like a theological question, but I think of it as more of a philosophical one.
Did Jesus Christ know he was going to rise again?
Before retorts, debates, outrages and the like flood your mind and your guilty mortal soul, I would ask that reading eyes and mind’s eyes consider this question separate from a standpoint of moral or mortal or biblical responsibility. Don’t think of it as a challenge of faith or an attempt at gratuitous controversy. Let me make this plain: I am not challenging any religious affiliation or proclaiming my own.
If Jesus knew he was destined to rise, what does that do to the quality of his sacrifice?
Consider the good book as a great story. Think of the hallowed figures within as characters, creations with human motivations, that exist on a plane that can be questioned. After all, all the best questions have blasphemous answers. I am not by nature a controversial person, but I do think we’re at our best when we’re questioning the stuff we’re not supposed to ask about.
What is true sacrifice?
Heroes are defined by two aspects: accomplishment and sacrifice; what did they get and what did they give? We all have heroes that exist on one side of that contribution, and some of us have admiration for someone that has achieved on both. While we worship and praise the champions and the conquerors, their contribution is often found in the fleeting phenomenon known as fame.
It’s the sacrifices, the heroes that we celebrate not for their victories, but for their loss of something great that became something greater. Over the long term we praise the sacrifices more, perhaps because the difference between a victory and a sacrifice is marked by that we wish we all could do and that we quietly acknowledge we couldn’t do.
True sacrifice is comprised of multiple ingredients. The first of these spices in the recipe is free will. In order to be a sacrifice it has to be a voluntary act. The second is that the act is done for someone else. It is next to impossible to offer up your mortal vessel and your immortal soul for your own profit, and to find a way to do so can not quite be deemed heroic.
The last and most important of these elements is knowledge, which is of course the pertinent point we’re examining today. In order to be a true sacrifice the act then must involve a selfless gesture of free will, and the knowledge of the fate that lies ahead.
What if that fate was less than certain?
What if that fate was certain to be undone?
What happens to the quality of a sacrifice when the ultimate consequence is removed? In the case of history’s most famous crucifixion, how should we view the pain and torment endured on that fated Friday if the subject of that misguided punishment knew he was going to be alive again three days later?
There is no doubt of the significance of that day. Regardless of the knowledge or intention of those involved, whether or not it was correctly documented, or whether it happened at all, Christ’s Crucifixion will stand as one of the singular human examples of what a death can mean to the lives it touched, what a life given means to the souls it saves.
The real question becomes: What is the likelihood that Jesus had the knowledge of his purpose beyond his mortal life? How could such a thing ever truly be ascertained? How can any of us ever pretend to know what he knew?
Though he was born in a manger, built of blood and bone, subject to many of the failings and frailties of mortals, Jesus was clearly gifted in some manner. Whether he or not he had the skills that were recounted, or whether walking on water and promptly turning it to wine were the subjects of ancient hyperbole, he clearly had a deeper understanding about his path than the average carpenter. It is conceivable to think that he, being one with his father and the Holy Spirit, being clearly endowed with a divine enlightenment, would be aware of his ultimate demise or ultimately his lack thereof. Is it really reasonable to assume that this awareness that brought him so far, to such an astounding and timeless statement and left him in suspense over the twist ending?
Why not? Many of the readers of this particular scripture are at this moment thinking that very thing, which is entirely acceptable. Given a mortal form to bring the word of his father to the fallible earthlings, it is also acceptable to assume that he could have no knowledge of the path that lay beyond his thirty-third year and his last gift to his followers. Many have based a lifelong study and devoted all their given Sundays to that very fact and I don’t find fallacy in it. Granted that I don’t find proof in it either. Devotion in something that can’t be proven is what faith is all about. Sometimes antithesis serves only to strengthen the thesis. As I stated earlier, it is not my intention to build or deflate in asking this question, only to consider a new dimension.
I suppose that I enjoy that we live in a world where two sides of an argument can at times exist on the same plane, like a pair of linked circles without a beginning or end. Some debates can only be answered by the elements of our individuality.
It tends not to be the answers I’m interested in, but the questions. After all, it’s the journey not the destination:
Right Jesus?
P
