Consequently, Jesus has been made a simple rabbi, a Jewish Socrates, or an itinerant Galilean philosopher who spoke about God with infinitely wise words. Or people have overlooked his message about the reign of God and made of him only a preacher of himself. Neither does justice to the historical record. Jesus’ radical proclamation of the reign of God contains an implicit Christology.
And it is not just his message; it is his actions as well. It is his coolness in authoritatively pronouncing the forgiveness of sins, when it is only God who can forgive sins.20 It is the claim that underlies the fact that he appoints the Twelve as a sign of the gathering of Israel, though in the Old Testament and in many Jewish prayers that gathering is predicated of God: “…who gathers the dispersed of Israel.” It is his deeds of power, the driving out of the demons of society and the many healing miracles along the way. He saw them as the works of God, and yet he accomplished them by his own power.
There was the messianic entrance into Jerusalem, the almost matter-of-fact taking possession of the temple, and the words of interpretation at the last meal, in which Jesus authoritatively declared his blood, now to be shed, to be “the blood of the covenant,” that is, the blood of the renewal and completion of the covenant God had once made with Israel (cf. chap. 15). And then, above all, there is the acknowledgment before the Sanhedrin that he, Jesus himself, will come again and judge his accusers. At this point, at the very end, the Christology implicit throughout his activity is unveiled and becomes public.
But otherwise Jesus’ claim retains its tactfulness. Jesus was clear and yet always discreet. He was clear and yet always reticent. It is from this very implicit, often hidden, often concealed, and yet all-penetrating Christology that a great power emerges. Fundamentally that power is much greater than if Jesus had spoken in the language of the Fourth Gospel, where everything is direct and immediate to the point of provocation. There Jesus says “whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9), or still more clearly, “The Father and I are one” (John 10:30). In the course of the first century this explicit Christology became necessary, and it was altogether appropriate and accurate. But it was not the language of Jesus.
A Successful Break-In
The power of Jesus’ language lies precisely in the fact that it only points the way. One last text can show us that. It is in Luke 12:39 and reads in some translations “if the owner of the house knew at what hour the thief was coming, he would prevent his house from being broken into.” This image, or similitude, played an extraordinary role in the early church. It admonishes to watchfulness. It was intended to say: we know neither the day nor the hour in which Christ will appear in glory. He will come as suddenly and unexpectedly as a thief in the night. Therefore be ready at all times! Keep awake!
Naturally, Christ is not portrayed as a burglar here. The point of comparison is only the suddenness and unpredictability of his return. So it is not that Christ is a thief but rather that he will come as unexpectedly as a thief does. Just when no one is expecting him, he will appear. That is how Matthew and Luke, and Paul, and the early church understood it.21 But there is good reason to think that Jesus himself understood the similitude differently.22 That is to say, it can be translated (as does the NRSV) as “past contrary to fact”: “if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into.” If we remove the text from its present context (the return of Christ) and understand it in this latter sense, the similitude is not warning against a future break-in but is looking back at one that has already happened. Then it is talking about a burglary that succeeded. The successful break-in would then be the coming of the reign of God, and the text would say: the reign of God has already come. It is here. It has taken place.
In that case this similitude belongs within a series of texts that speak in similar fashion of the reign of God as having already come, for example: “If it is by the finger of God that I cast out the demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you” (Luke 11:20). The following metaphor also presumes the having-already-come of the reign of God. The background here is again Jesus’ exorcisms of demons: “No one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered” (Mark 3:27). This image too does not speak of coming events; against the background of Luke 11:20 it means to say that everything is already happening. Jesus is already in the “house of the strong man,” that is, he has pushed his way into the world ruled by demons.23 The Satan is already bound, the power of the demons already broken.
Mark 3:27 in particular is especially close to the text we began with, Luke 12:39, because there too a “house” is invaded. Thus the interpretation of Luke 12:39 I have presented here fits thoroughly within Jesus’ bold way of speaking, one that is not frightened of daring images. Similarly bold and “violent” is the so-called violence saying: “The prophets and the law [were in effect] until John. From then on the kingdom of heaven has broken its path with violence, and the violent take it by force” (cf. Matt 11:13, 12 // Luke 16:16). Against this whole background the similitude of the thief who breaks into a house during the night reveals an excellent sense. Jesus could, in the sense of the thing, have spoken as follows:
To what shall I compare the reign of God? What image shall I use for it—for you doubters who think the reign of God is still far in the future? But it has already come. Its coming is like a break-in that could not be prevented. If the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming he would, of course, have kept watch. But he did not know. And so the thief broke into his house.
In this similitude Jesus does not seem to be speaking about himself at all. As so often, he talks of the coming of the reign of God. And yet he speaks in the same similitude about his own activity.
If we read carefully and place the similitude in the context of his activity we have to say that yes, he broke into the spaces of the old society, the realm of the demons’ power and that of the gods of the world, the taken-for-granted things from which people interested only in themselves build the houses of their lives. The old society would have defended itself; it would not have let him in; it would have secured itself, locked up everything, blocked all entrances. But he surprised it. He came like a thief in the night, secretly, in silence, unexpected, when no one was thinking about any of it. With him the reign of God was suddenly there, and the new had already begun—in the midst of the old world.