A Fresh Look at Jesus the Preacher

Printer-Friendly Version  

C. RICHARD WELLS

THE CRISWELL COLLEGE

 Abstract

Modern scholarship has tended to neglect the actual preaching of Jesus.  Recent work on orality sheds new light on Jesus as a communicator.  This paper seeks to explain in part how the disciples remembered so much of Jesus' teaching, and suggests implications for Gospels scholarship and for preaching in a cybernetic culture. 

I.  A Familiar Ring and a Strange Sound

 "How did the disciples of Jesus remember so much of what he said?"  Jesus did not write books, articles, or study guides.  No tapes, CD's, overheads, or powerpoints.  Jesus did not have a website.  Yet his followers were able, years later, to recall much of what He said so precisely that many modern scholars assume the gospel writers essentially copied each other.  Even more amazing, the disciples did not set out to write the words of Jesus at all.  According to Eusebius, "they proclaimed the knowledge of the Kingdom of Heaven . . . giving very little thought to the business of writing books" (Eusebius, 1965, 3.24).  And yet, the Apostle John says (if we may paraphrase) "there is a lot more I could tell you!" (cf. Jn. 20:30; 21:25).  All from an itinerant teacher with no tools but His voice.  How can this be? 

The most obvious answer is that the Holy Spirit taught them, according to the promise of Jesus:  "But . . . the Holy Spirit . . . will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you" (Jn. 14:26; cf. 16:13).  Of course, the Spirit could have given the disciples effortless verbatim recall of every word Jesus ever spoke (reversing the analogy of a college student who prays to remember answers from a textbook he has never opened!).  The Spirit's role, however, is not to reproduce the ipsissima verba of Jesus, but to illuminate their significance.  The disciples already possessed a store of Jesus' teaching, which the Holy Spirit will bring to life.  After the resurrection, therefore, the disciples "remembered" Jesus' teaching about destroying and rebuilding the Temple [of His body], "and they believed the Scripture, and the word which Jesus spoke" (Jn. 2:22b). The Holy Spirit would enable the disciples to say, "Now I understand this word of the Master!" (Godet 1886, II:287).   

Another obvious answer to our question is the extraordinary consistency of Jesus' message.  Modern scholarship (which agrees on almost nothing else) "is quite unanimous in the opinion that the Kingdom of God was the central message of Jesus" (Ladd, 1974, 57).   In his cut-to-the-chase style, Mark informs us that Jesus launched his public ministry "preaching the gospel of God, and saying, 'The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel'" (Mk. 1:14b-15; also Mt. 4:17; 10:7).  The Gospels contain more than 75 different "kingdom of God" sayings, with innumerable allusions to "kingdom" themes.  The disciples could scarcely forget that Jesus preached the kingdom of God.  

As New Testament scholars are wont to say, the Bible never defines basileia tou theou, nor does the phrase as such even appear in the Old Testament.  Yet Jesus spoke of the kingdom as if he expected his hearers to know what he meant.  Even more, he expected the kingdom theme to connect him homiletically with his listeners.  The answer to this strangeness may lie in the Jewish Targums. [1]   The phrase "kingdom of God" does not appear in the Old Testament, but it does appear in the targumim, often as a substitute for the divine name.  The following parallels from Zechariah and Isaiah illustrate: 

Zechariah 14:9 

(text)         "And the Lord will be king over all the earth."

(targum)    "And the kingdom of the Lord will be revealed upon all the dwellers of the earth."  

Isaiah. 31:4 

(text)         "so will the Lord of hosts come down to wage war,"

(targum)    "the kingdom of the Lord of hosts will be revealed. . . ."   

There are numerous such examples, especially in the Prophets, suggesting that in first century Judaism "kingdom of God" had become stereotyped vocabulary for the work of God: "Regnum Dei Deus est," says Bruce Chilton of Jesus' preaching, "the kingdom of God is God!"  It seems that Jesus may simply have employed "a contemporary catch-phrase . . . to serve as the key term in his vivid assertion that God is active among us" (Chilton 1978, 267, 270).    

The "kingdom" theme connected Jesus with his hearers; but it also confronted them.  In popular first century Jewish consciousness, the "kingdom of God" congered images of political deliverance and David's Golden Age redivivus.  The Messiah would usher in this new age as the King of the Kingdom.  At "the centre of Jewish tradition," says Ulrich Wilckens (1982, 606), stood the kingdom of God as "the reward of righteousness for the righteous in their distress."  Jesus turned that tradition on its head.  He preached about a righteousness that must surpass the righteousness of the "righteous" (Mt. 5:20).  He declared his intention not to call the "righteous" but "sinners" (Mk. 2:17); and he restricted the kingdom to the "poor in spirit" (Mt. 5:3).  And what he did confirmed what he said.  Jesus spent himself on the hopeless and the helpless and the unwelcome.  He opened blind eyes.  He delivered demoniacs.  He raised invalids.  He touched lepers.  He ate with publicans.  He associated with the flotsam and jetsam.  What Jewish tradition regarded as the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow of righteousness—the kingdom of God—Jesus proclaimed as "God's ultimate salvation for those radically without salvation" (Ibid.).  Jesus' preaching of the "kingdom," therefore, had a familiar ring, but a strange sound, memorable precisely because it fulfilled every human hope and unsettled every human heart.   

II.  Jesus – Didaskale 

Modern critical scholarship has tended to obscure, however, a third answer to the question how his disciples remembered so much of what Jesus said—namely, the homiletics of Jesus as such.  Since William Sanday (1911) and B. H. Streeter (1924) popularized the documentary theory of Gospel origins, New Testament scholars have largely ignored the living voice of Jesus in the Gospels.  Of the Sermon on the Mount, for example, Robert Guelich (1982) declares: "as we know it, [the Sermon] is ultimately the literary product of the first evangelist.  Yet the evangelist himself did not 'write' the Sermon as such but composed it by combining various traditional units" (p. 33).  A respected evangelical, Guelich is careful to say that the "traditional units . . .reflected [Jesus'] 'preaching;'" but "the actual 'Sermon' . . . came into being . . . in the post-Easter community" (Ibid., 35, emphasis added).  If Guelich is right, any quest for the preaching of Jesus is doomed.  

But there is good reason to question this modern traditio.  Anticipating Sanday and Streeter by half a century, B. F. Westcott (1867) observed that while we naturally think of the Gospels as literary, since we have them in that form, "this idea is an anachronism," for the Evangelists in fact had no intention of "forming a permanent Christian literature" (p. 152).  Their Jewish culture—stressing oral training and sufficiency of the Scriptures—disinclined them to write anything, still less to add anything to the Law, Prophets, and Writings.  A growing body of scholarship confirms Bishop Westcott's judgment.  Writing was common enough in first century culture; but that culture was dominantly oral-aural, not literary (Gerhardsson 1979; Ong 1982; Harvey 1998; et al.).  Most people were "habituated to the spoken word," and "much of what was written was meant to be recited and listened to" (Kelber 1983, 17).    

This emerging scholarship of "high residual orality" in late Western antiquity encourages us to look more closely at the Gospel accounts of Jesus' preaching.  Eusebius, we are reminded, affirmed that the Evangelists gave "very little thought to the business of writing books" (see p. 1).  And when they did write, it now appears, they wrote so as to capture the "sound" of Jesus, not merely to convey the kerygma of his teaching (Achtemeier 1990).  Which prompts us to ask afresh—"how did the master Preacher preach?"  

We start with the testimonium of that most famous Jewish historian, Flavius Josephus: "Now, there was about this time, Jesus, a wise man . . . a teacher of such as receive the truth with pleasure.  He drew many over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles" (Josephus, Antiquities. 18.3.3).   Recent scholarship has tended to accredit these words (Feldman 1989; Vermes 1987); and we now have good reason to say that while Josephus did not embrace Jesus as the Messiah, he did esteem Jesus as a teacher.  At the very least, we may say with Rainer Riesner (1991) that "this was quite the way in which many contemporaries . . . looked at Jesus" (p. 185).  The gospels certainly confirm this impression.[2] 

As a teacher, Jesus fell heir to a culture that valued teaching and teachers.  The Greeks revered their philosophers, and all ancient cultures honored their wise men, especially so the Jews.  We need only think of Solomon, whose "wisdom surpassed the wisdom of all the sons of the east and all the wisdom of Egypt" (I Ki. 4:30).  The sages usually taught as well, and in many cases served as the principal educators for the ruling classes.  Of course, the first century also had its share of what (in the 21^st century) we would call "communicators," both Greek and Jewish, who turned their rhetorical skills to a (sometimes quite handsome) living, among them lawyers, politicians, philosophers, religious sectarians, and the infamous Sophists (Litfin, 1994) who, according to Clement of Alexandria, cultivated the art of making "false opinions like true by means of words."[3] 

But the culture of Jesus was decidedly Jewish, not Greek; and Jewish culture had a decidedly "teach-and-learn" orientation (Riesner 1991).  Even as a poor carpenter's son in out-of-the-way Nazareth, Jesus would have had benefit of a synagogue school.  He would have had as models the great prophets of the past and the rabbis of both past and present.  As a child, he would have frequented the synagogue, which, apart from its role in formal education, helped form a biblically literate population, in Nazareth and elsewhere.  (Josephus said that the synagogue fulfilled the Law, since "every week the people should set aside their occupations and gather to listen to the Law and learn it accurately" [Josephus, Apion, 2.17].)  The synagogue thus provided a ready-made preaching and teaching forum for Jesus, as it would for Paul later on; and the rabbinical tradition included certain standard preaching and teaching patterns that Jesus could use to great effect (Kaiser 1981; Reumann 1972).  Not to mention that Jewish tradition extolled "the institution of preaching," using "the most extravagant terms" (Edersheim 1971, 1:446; Gerhardsson 1979).

THE GRAVAMAN AGAINST JESUS 

The Gospels agree, however, that Jesus stood alone as a teacher.  Quite simply, he baffled his hearers, because while Jesus had unacceptable "credentials," he had undeniable "authority."  Thus the Jews at the Temple marveled, "saying, 'How has this man become learned, having never been educated?'" (Jn. 7:15)—referring no doubt to his lack of rabbinical training.  The accounts of Nicodemus (Jn. 3:1-12; 7:32, 45-52) furnish a veritable case study on Jesus' authority as a teacher.  

Indeed, on the issue of his authority the death sentence of Jesus will turn.  Matthew documents at least six "authority" encounters between Jesus and the accredited teachers during Passion Week, [4] in three of which they (nevertheless) address him as "Teacher" [didaskale].  The "professional" teachers seem determined to discredit Jesus, even though forced to acknowledge him as a teacher.  Whatever other reasons the authorities may have had, "the real reason for his being put to death," according to C. F. D. Moule (1987), the "gravaman against Jesus" (p. 177), was his peculiar claim to authority.  Explicitly or by implication, Jesus claimed an authority greater than that of Moses, Solomon, or Abraham.  He never appealed to any human authority, but claimed that his witness was true of itself (Jn. 8:14b, 17-18).  Jesus claimed to know God; and in his preaching, he brought the "effect" of God "into disconcerting proximity" (Ibid., 192).  This the Jewish leaders could not abide.

III.  Preaching Like Jesus 

In their book, Learning to Preach Like Jesus, Ralph and Gregg Lewis (1989) ask, "Can we really preach like Jesus today?" (p. 123).  The answer, in a word, is "no."  Jesus was (and, of course, is) unique.  His spiritual vitality never slumped, because the will of the Father was His very food  (Jn. 4:34).  He had no need to study rhetoric or psychology, for "He knew what was in man" (Jn. 2:25).  His credibility never suffered, for no one could lay an error to his charge (e.g., Jn. 8:46).  Furthermore, the works of Jesus perfectly confirmed His words, as when in Capernaum He preached the royal rule (kingdom) of God, and exercised that rule by exorcising a demon (Mk. 1:21-28).  Even a popular teaching form like the parable is, in the mouth of Jesus, something utterly different, for he himself is the center of each one (Schweizer 1994).  And yet, it is not too much to think that imitatio Christi, the age-old aspiration to pattern the Christian life after Christ, should not apply to homiletics.  To that end, let us pose a more modest question: "What are the distinctive features of Jesus' preaching?"

1.  THE PREACHING OF JESUS WAS "GO AND TELL" PREACHING

Perhaps the most distinctive feature is itineracy.  Everywhere he goes, Jesus teaches.  Publicly and privately, indoors and out-of-doors, with multitudes and with individuals, with followers and with foes, on mountain slopes and in fishing boats—Jesus incarnates Paul's charge to young Timothy: "be ready" to preach "in season and out of season" (2 Tim. 4:2).

Jesus had a "go and tell" rather than a "come and hear" philosophy of preaching.  For example, while not unheard of, open-air preaching was rare in the first century, especially to large crowds (Büchler 1913-14, 485-91).  But it was typical for Jesus, as for the Baptist before him.  Theologically-speaking, Jesus' "go and tell" philosophy invests his preaching with certain urgency, an urgency which Jesus himself makes explicit.  In his second "travel narrative" (Stein1992, 378; also Evans 1990), Luke recounts that someone posed the question—"are there just a few being saved?"—which Jesus answers with a warning about the narrow way.  In the judgment, some will "remind" the Lord that "You taught in our streets" (13:26), as if to substitute familiarity for faith.  How little they understood his preaching!  The very fact that Jesus preached in the streets (rather than in synagogues or under shade trees) should have impressed on them the urgency of his message!  Like Dame Wisdom of Proverbs, Jesus has "a message for all the people of Israel" (Riesner, 1991, 192), which they ignore to their peril.   

The itineracy of Jesus also implies that Jesus taught and preached for everyone.  "Many Jewish teachers had a limited audience," says Pheme Perkins (1990), "They spoke to educated persons . . . who were seeking some higher insight . . . or 'wisdom.'"  But Jesus "appealed to the crowds" (p. 30). 

2.  THE PREACHING OF JESUS WAS SIMPLE AND ACCOMMODATING 

Commenting on Jesus' teaching during the Passion Week, Mark says that "the common people heard Him gladly" (Mk. 12:37 [KJV]).  William Barclay (1954) suggests that the people merely enjoyed Jesus' "denunciation of the scribes," for to certain minds "invective is always attractive" (p. 299).   But the syntax of the verse suggests that Mark was summarizing response to Jesus' teaching as a whole, not just to the invective (Lane 1974).  In other words, something about the style of Jesus' teaching "connected" him with people.[5]  Of this style, Pheme Perkins (1990) writes:  

Jesus spoke with a prophetic voice to all people.  Understanding his message did not require special education or even a life . . . marked by holiness in a special way.  Ordinary people heard Jesus' words as the word of God addressed to them.  Jesus did not use a 'scholarly' or 'technical language' such as we find in philosophical writings of the time or in legal disputes over the meaning of the Law (p. 38).  

His listeners often failed to understand or appropriate his teaching, but never because Jesus spoke an unintelligible language.  He used everyday figures, experiences, and phenomena to engage his hearers.  He found great truths in simple things.  He cloaked eternal verities in images like "harvests," "new wine," "physicians" and "sickness," "a city on a hill," "lamps" and "platters," "leaven," "sparrows," "serpents" and "doves," and dozens of others known by all from their mother's knee.   

Jesus never rushed people.  He "began where his hearers were," with familiar ideas, familiar language, familiar experiences: "Step by step he led them.  'I have many things to say unto you,' he once told them, 'but you cannot bear them now' (John 16:12).  With divine reserve . . . he would keep back part of the revelation . . . until his hearers were able to receive it" (Stewart 1978, 80).

3.  THE PREACHING OF JESUS WAS MEMORABLE AND MEMORIZABLE 

No one who reads the Gospels can fail to see that parables dominate the teaching of Jesus.[6]  Jesus explained to his disciples that parables reveal to those with eyes to see; but to others, they conceal (Mt. 13:11-17).  So parables "preach" by indirection.  In the words of T. F. Torrance (1950), the parables are "sacramental," they place the hearer "into a situation in which he is confronted by God and can hear for himself the Word of the Kingdom" (p. 302; also Carson 1985).  Torrance adds that Jesus used parables because their images linger, enabling Jesus "to keep the attention of the hearers awake until a more convenient time" (Ibid., 303).  Philip Culbertson (1995) calls attention to "the impact of cumulative parables."  Jesus would often string parables together (e.g., Mt. 13) to heighten the "emotional impact" on the disciples (p. 18).  

Parables constitute only the most striking feature of the Master Teacher's rhetoric.  He employed forms and techniques of speech that enabled his hearers to remember what he said.  He could use hyperbole—camels through needles or logs in eyes—"as a kind of shock treatment to help people see the truth" (Kealy 1978, 41).  He used riddles and paradoxes to focus attention and drive home a point.  He used word play, and he "knew the truth of the formula repetitio est mater studiorum" (Riesner 1991, 201).[7]  Although we have only Greek translations of Jesus' words, attempts to retrovert them to the original Aramaic (or Hebrew) suggest that the great majority of the Lord's separate sayings have poetic forms or employ poetic techniques such as alliteration, assonance, and rhyme (Rüger 1968).  Even in Greek translation, it is clear that Jesus "condensed the main points of his theological and ethical teaching in summaries" (Riesner 1991, 204) or meshalim (from the Hebrew mashal—any "short, carefully formulated text" [Gerhardsson 1991, 267]).  Birger Gerhardsson (1991) has identified more than 50 "narrative meshalim" (roughly equivalent to "parables"), but scores of other aphoristic meshalim.  Aphorisms belong to the stock wisdom of most ancient societies.  They functioned mnemonically, "as vehicles for articulating and preserving traditional values . . . by expressing general and typical truths . . ." (Aune 1991, 214).  Jesus, however, did not use meshalim simply to pass on traditional wisdom.  Many are radically disorienting—as in, "the first shall be last"! (Mk. 10:31)—and almost none deal with the usual themes, such as friendship, family, personal habits, or politics.  Jesus sought rather to make memorable his message about the kingdom of God.  

Jesus consciously formulated his preaching and teaching to make it memorizable.  We have commented briefly on first century orality.  Among others, Ruth Finegan has shown how, under certain conditions—especially when (a) the leader is regarded as inspired, (b) the material is given in some more or less fixed form, and (c) the remembering group is specially trained—religious groups can ritualize tradition (Finegan 1977).  Thus it is hardly a stretch to imagine that the disciples would have memorized many of Jesus' sayings even during His earthly ministry.

4.  THE PREACHING OF JESUS WAS ORIGINAL AND PERSONAL. 

In now-familiar words, Matthew records that when Jesus finished the Sermon on the Mount, "the multitudes were amazed at His teaching; for He taught as one having authority, and not as their scribes" (Mt. 7:28b-29).  Analyzing that remarkable reaction, Lloyd-Jones noted that, unlike the scribes and Pharisees who taught by compiling citations, "there was a freshness about [Jesus'] teaching . . . [an] originality of thought and of manner."  Further, Jesus spoke with "extraordinary assurance."  When he teaches, "There is no doubt about it, and no questions; . . . no mere supposition, or possibility only."  But "what really astonished these people . . . was what He said, and in particular what He said about Himself."  He calls attention to his own Person and his own teaching (Lloyd-Jones 1959-60, 330).  As we saw earlier, the gravaman against Jesus was precisely this claim to personal authority, "unmediated by appeals to Scripture or tradition" (Moule 1987, 191).

IV.  The Preaching of Jesus - A case study  

James Dillon (1981, 135) asks, "How successful was [Jesus] as a teacher?"  At one level, of course, history is answer enough.  But at another level, the question makes perfect sense.  What was the effect of Jesus' preaching?  How did listeners respond to Jesus?  Did he (or, rather, how did he) accomplish what he wanted to accomplish in his preaching?  Even a cursory look at the Gospels will show that the preaching of Jesus often had what we must call negative effects.  We have only to remember the "disciples" who withdrew after his sermon on the "Bread of Life" (Jn. 6:66), or the several times he was threatened after preaching or the way his preaching catalyzed the plot against his life during Passion Week.  For that matter, we need only recall the frequent questionings and doubtings of the Twelve.[8]  If a good preacher is an effective "communicator," what are we to make of such strong, negative response to the Master Preacher? 

We meet precisely that question in Luke's account of Jesus' synagogue sermon in Nazareth.  Although Jesus often preached in synagogues (Lk. 4:15-16; Mt. 4:23; Mk. 4:21-22), this is the only record of an actual sermon, though Luke also records one by Paul (Pisidian Antioch, Acts 13:16b-41).  This is also the only New Testament record of a synagogue service as such (Marshall 1978), which service, in fact, presents one of four interpretative problems we face:  (1) What was the occasion for the sermon?; (2) Why did Jesus read the text he read (Is. 61:1, 2 with Is. 58:6 inserted)?; (3) Where did the sermon end?; and (4) How do we explain the congregation's reaction?

THE OCCASION FOR THE SERMON 

As to the occasion for the sermon, Mark (6:1-6a) and Matthew (13:54-58) both mention Jesus' teaching (but not a sermon) in the synagogue in Nazareth, but in what appears to be a different context.  Most notably, the synagogue sermon in Luke precedes the call of the disciples, while in Mark and Matthew, it follows the call.  Most commentators, including some of the older authorities (Farrar 1895), assume that the accounts are nonetheless parallel, and that Matthew/Mark have simply transposed the account.  Several commentators (e.g., Marshall 1978; Klein 1986) have suggested that this pericope serves as Luke's peculiar programmatic introduction of Jesus' ministry—functionally equivalent to Mark's simple announcement that Jesus came preaching the gospel of the kingdom (Mk. 1:14-15). 

William Walker (1987) hypothesizes, however, that Matthew actually did recognize Luke's order in 4:13, but chose to elaborate later on the rejection of Jesus.  Although his conclusion is inherently implausible, Walker may be on to something. 

Mt. 4:13 does at least allow for the possibility that Jesus "left" Nazareth in the way Luke describes.  Matthew may then have recorded two visits to (and two rejections in) Nazareth, one at the beginning of the Galilean ministry, another at the end.  On the first visit (the occasion for Luke's synagogue sermon), Jesus refused to do any miracles and rebuked the congregation for demanding to see what "we heard was done at Capernaum" (Lk. 4:23).  Then, "after a long interval" (A. T. Robertson), Jesus gives "the Nazarenes another opportunity to hear his teaching, and to witness miracles" (Robertson 1922, 77n).  First Jesus preaches "the Word" in his hometown; then he confirms the Word by his "works."

THE READING OF THE PROPHET 

A second problem arises over Isaiah 61:1, 2, because this text cannot readily be fit into any known scheme of reading from the Prophets, even though Luke's account suggests at first blush that Jesus performed the haftarah for the day.  For several reasons, it seems unlikely that he did (Monshouwer 1991), which begs the question why Jesus chose Isaiah 61: 1, 2 for the occasion. 

James Sanders (1993) offers a plausible account.  This particular text enjoyed wide currency among pious Jews, who interpreted it in terms of (a) blessings for themselves and (b) judgment upon their enemies.  If so, Jesus used the text as a proem to establish an immediate "connection" with his hearers and to prepare them for (what will prove to be) a radical reversal of their "tradition."  This reconstruction makes good sense in light of Luke's telling observation that after the reading, Jesus "sat down; and the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him" (4:20).  Reading this text evidently created palpable expectancy. 

THE END OF THE SERMON 

A more pressing homiletical question is where the sermon ends.  Luke's comment in 4:22 that the townspeople were "wondering," might seem to imply the sermon had ended—with only a Scripture reading, and a single (albeit pregnant) sentence.  But Luke may just as well have inserted the comment precisely at this point to show that even while Jesus was preaching, the congregation was already abuzz.  The scene is utterly natural, especially given the astonishment so often associated with Jesus' preaching.  On this interpretation, Luke 4:23-27 summarizes the closing part of the sermon, delivered by Jesus in response to the wonderment he observed as he preached.  In popular language, Jesus read the body language of the congregation. 

ACCEPTANCE OR REJECTION? 

This brings us to the climactic question about this sermon—how do we explain the reaction of the people of Nazareth?  It is often observed that their initial response appears to be positive, not negative.  Luke says specifically that the crowd were "speaking well of Him" and that they "wondered" at His "gracious words."  It has even been suggested that Jesus, in effect, overreacted, and used a proverb as a rhetorical weapon to "the effect of provoking offence, rather than a tactful handling of the situation" (Winton 1990, 133).  

But Luke provides certain clues that this is not the case at all.  The word translated "wondered" [thanmadzo] expresses astonishment, but often has a negative connotation (cf. Jn. 3:7).  The "wonder," in any case, is over Jesus' "gracious words."  In Greek, the phrase is tois logois tns charitos, apparently a reference to his message of salvation (Stein 1992), the basis of which was the Old Testament law of Jubilee (Lev. 25:8-55), when debts were to be erased, leased land returned, slaves set free, in short, when shalom was to be restored.  The "Jubilee" had long since fallen into neglect—if it ever was observed—and, on the strength of texts like Isaiah 61:1, 2, had come to symbolize Israel's vague hope for eschatological deliverance.  So Jesus proclaims the "Jubilee" vision (4:21); but he knows the crowd has no real taste for it.  The Nazareth townsfolk, therefore, were ambivalent about Jesus—"impressed with his character . . . but astonished and critical . . . of his message" (Hertig 1998, 169).

Conclusion 

Did Jesus succeed as a preacher?  The evidence as a whole suggests paradoxical answers.  On the one hand, Jesus relied almost exclusively it seems on oral presentation, yet his preaching made a lasting impression on those who heard.  Even allowing for Jesus' uniqueness as a preacher, this fact challenges the thinking current in some quarters that good communication necessitates technological aids, or at least that technology enhances good communication. Though not in a systematic way, we have identified at least four qualities that made Jesus' teaching and preaching effective -- even though (again) it was almost exclusively oral.  First, the Holy Spirit actualized his preaching.  Second, his preaching had a clear, consistently-articulated theological core -- most notably, of course, the kingdom of God-from which he derived and out of which he elaborated the specifics of his message.  Third, Jesus employed rhetoric and thought forms that both connected with people and (often simultaneously) confronted them.  And fourth (and importantly), Jesus' preaching, especially the parables, created for hearers, or rather forced hearers into, a context of decision. 

On the other hand, Jesus himself clearly did not equate "success" as a preacher with creating a favorable impression.  Whatever modern preachers mean by it, for Jesus, "good communication" implies confrontation as the claims of the kingdom of God are brought to bear -- fully, clearly, unambiguously, in the love of God, and by the Spirit of God--so that persons must decide for or against the kingdom.  In a paradoxical way, this very confrontation, as such, helped to make the preaching of Jesus memorable! 

Did Jesus succeed as a preacher?  Here is the evidence.  His words could not be ignored, evaded, or dismissed.  Some who heard him preach got him nailed to a Roman gibbet.  Some others who heard him treasured every word he spoke and joyfully suffered for his name, even unto death.  Did Jesus succeed?  Let those who would "preach like Jesus" decide.   

NOTES