On the other hand, Jesus accepted Peter’s confession of him as Messiah, which he himself had provoked, but he immediately emphasized to his disciples that they should not talk about the messiah (Mark 8:27-30). Of course, at that time he was alone with his disciples. If we take the two texts together—the cry of the blind Bartimaeus, his healing, and the previous command to silence in Mark 8:27-30—we may conclude that Jesus did not simply regard the notion that he was the messiah as false, but he did not want it to be applied thoughtlessly and prematurely.
Bartimaeus’s cry then acts as a signal to readers of Mark’s gospel that the situation has changed. At any rate, Jesus, as he approached Jerusalem soon afterward, gave his entry into the city a messianic character. I have already spoken about this at length (chap. 15). Jesus also accepted the messianic acclamation of those accompanying him, but he interpreted his messianic character in terms of Zechariah 9:9.
The crucial and decisive scene takes place before the Sanhedrin. Here Jesus is asked by the high priest himself, the highest religious authority in Israel, if he is the Messiah, and he answers, “I am” (Mark 14:61-62). He refines this confession, however, by saying that he will come in majesty as the Son of Man, the Human One.
In recent exegesis, especially since Rudolf Bultmann, both Peter’s confession of Jesus as Messiah and Jesus’ affirmation before the Sanhedrin have been presented as fictive scenes. All the gospel texts in which a messianic statement appears are said to be post-Easter constructions. But here a critique of the critique is in order. It is quite correct that Jesus did not proclaim himself as Messiah when he appeared in Galilee. That he always treated the messianic title with reticence and the highest degree of caution is also correct. But that in no way excludes what then occurred in the acute situation in Jerusalem, for we cannot avoid the fact that, after his sentencing by Pilate, Jesus was mocked by Roman soldiers as “king of the Jews” (Mark 15:16-20) and then executed under a placard reading “King of the Jews” (Mark 15:26). That titulus must very certainly have had a starting point in the events themselves, before the Sanhedrin as well as before the Roman prefect. When Jesus was formally charged by Caiaphas to say whether he was the Messiah, he could not say, “No, I am not.” He could not do so even though he maintained a certain reserve toward the title. He could, however, give more precision to this title of majesty, and he did so.
What is the basis for Jesus’ careful treatment of the title “messiah”? As we have indicated earlier, there were special political reasons for such caution. In the ears of many Jews, but most especially in the ears of the Roman occupying power, the word “messiah” sounded like uproar and rebellion against Rome. That was one-sided, of course: Jewish ideas of the messiah were much richer and more nuanced. The Old Testament itself sometimes paints its “messianic” figures9 in quite different colors. But as disunified and multiple as the ideas of a messiah were, in Jesus’ time the word had become a dangerous irritant. Jesus could not desire that his gathering of Israel could be even distantly interpreted in the direction of Zealot uprisings. That would have falsified his whole message. Probably in that case Jesus’ effectiveness would have come to a quick and violent end, and it would already have happened in Galilee.
But the reasons for Jesus’ reticence lay deeper: apparently the concept of a messiah was as inadequate as that of an eschatological prophet for explaining his mission, his claim, and his mystery—not only the mystery of his majesty but also that of his humility. So he preferred to speak indirectly of what was now happening before the eyes of alclass="underline" “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me” (Matt 11:5-6). That is thoroughly “messianic,” and there can be no question that the designation “messianic,” or as we may say, the Savior-figure of the Messiah, covers much of what Jesus was. Otherwise the early church would not have called him the “Christ” (“Anointed One”) and so rapidly and earnestly that “Christ” became his proper name. We must even say that if Jesus had not made himself known as Messiah, at the latest before the Sanhedrin, the development of the early church’s Christology would be beyond all understanding. And yet we cannot overlook the fact that here, as elsewhere, Jesus showed reserve and restraint, and that restraint is to be respected in raising historical questions and must not be swept aside.
Jesus, the “Son of Man”
It is quite different with regard to the concept of the “Son of Man” or “Human One.” It is striking that in this case Jesus did use the title. The evidence is completely clear: the title “Son of Man” appears in the New Testament almost exclusively in the gospels,10 and there only on the lips of Jesus.11 But it is also important that it is found in every level of tradition: in the Sayings Source, in Mark, in Matthew, in Luke, in the Gospel of John, and even in the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas (logion 86).12 If the church had first begun giving Jesus the exalted title “Son of Man” after Easter we would find a completely different picture within the New Testament. Apparently the earliest church was still aware that this was a usage particular to Jesus that had to be left with him and could not be freely thrown around, for example, in christological confessional statements.13 Conclusion: Jesus used the title “Son of Man” as a self-designation in the presence of his disciples and then publicly as well.
This was, of course, also connected with the fact that “Son of Man” was enigmatic or coded speech. That was already the case in Daniel 7, where the great powers of history were presented as beasts, with a human being (= Son of Man or Human One) as their counter. As we have already seen (chap. 3), this “human being” is there a symbol of the ultimate human society God is creating in Israel and, through Israel, in the world.
In the apocalyptic secret literature of early Judaism, the Human One in Daniel 7 was regarded as a majestic figure who would hold judgment in God’s name at the end of time and establish salvation and justice. This is attested by the imagery in Ethiopian Enoch (1 En. 37-–71) and 4 Ezra.14 But the latter was created only after the destruction of Jerusalem, and there is dispute about when the image discourses in 1 Enoch were written. They come either from the first century before or the first century after Christ. It is also possible, however, that these image discourses have a history of redaction behind them, one that extended over a considerable period of time.
Even if these image discourses already existed in Jesus’ time there remains the question whether Jesus knew them or not. It is much more plausible that he drew the symbol of the Human One/Son of Man not from some esoteric sources but from Sacred Scripture itself, for it is certain that Jesus had access to the picture of history in Daniel 7; its whole force was familiar to him. When he spoke of the coming of the reign of God, the interpretation of history in Daniel 7 was part of it. Nevertheless, Jesus modified it at the same time. What was different with Jesus?