Part 7 (2/2)

At this point Moses and Elijah appear and talk with Jesus. What the Risen Lord will later explain to the disciples on the road to Emmaus is seen here in visible form. The Law and the Prophets speak with Jesus; they speak of Jesus. Only Luke tells us-at least in a brief allusion-what G.o.d's two great witnesses were talking about with Jesus: They ”appeared in glory and spoke of his departure [his exodus], which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem” (Lk 9:31). Their topic of conversation is the Cross, but understood in an inclusive sense as Jesus' Exodus, which had to take place in Jerusalem. Jesus' Cross is an Exodus: a departure from this life, a pa.s.sage through the ”Red Sea” of the Pa.s.sion, and a transition into glory-a glory, however, that forever bears the mark of Jesus' wounds.

This is a clear statement that the Law and the Prophets are fundamentally about the ”hope of Israel,” the Exodus that brings definitive liberation; but the content of this hope is the suffering Son of Man and Servant of G.o.d, who by his suffering opens the door into freedom and renewal. Moses and Elijah are themselves figures of the Pa.s.sion and witnesses of the Pa.s.sion. They speak with the transfigured Jesus about what they said while on earth, about the Pa.s.sion of Jesus. But by speaking of these things with Jesus during his Transfiguration they make it apparent that this Pa.s.sion brings salvation; that it is filled with the glory of G.o.d; that the Pa.s.sion is transformed into light, into freedom and joy.

At this point, we need to jump ahead to the conversation that the three disciples have with Jesus as they come down from the ”high mountain.” Jesus is talking with them about his coming Resurrection from the dead, which of course presupposes the Cross. The disciples ask instead about the return of Elijah, which is foretold by the scribes. This is Jesus' reply: ”Elijah does come first to restore all things. And how is it written of the Son of Man that he should suffer many things and be treated with contempt? But I tell you that Elijah has come, and they did to him whatever they pleased, as it is written of him” (Mk 9:13). Jesus' words confirm the expectation of Elijah's return. At the same time, however, he completes and corrects the common picture of it. He tacitly identifies the Elijah who will return as John the Baptist: the return of Elijah has already happened in the work of the Baptist.

John had come to rea.s.semble Israel in preparation for the advent of the Messiah. But if the Messiah himself is the suffering Son of Man, and if it is only as such that he opens the way to salvation, then the work of Elijah that prepares his way must also somehow bear the mark of the Pa.s.sion. And it does: ”They did to him whatever they pleased, as it is written of him” (Mk 9:13). Jesus recalls the destiny that actually befell the Baptist, but his reference to Scripture is probably also an allusion to the traditions of the day foretelling the martyrdom of Elijah. Elijah was considered ”the only one who, though persecuted, escaped martyrdom; but when he returns...he too has to undergo death” (Pesch, Markusevangelium Markusevangelium, II, p. 80).

The hoped-for salvation and the Pa.s.sion are thus joined together intimately and then developed into a picture of the redemption that accords with Scripture's deepest intention, although in terms of the prevailing expectations of the day it const.i.tutes a startling novelty. Scripture had to be read anew with the suffering Christ, and so it must ever be. We constantly have to let the Lord draw us into his conversation with Moses and Elijah; we constantly have to learn from him, the Risen Lord, to understand Scripture afresh.

Let us return to the Transfiguration story itself. The three disciples are shaken by the enormousness of what they have seen. They are overcome by ”fear of G.o.d,” as we have seen them be on other occasions when they have experienced G.o.d's closeness in Jesus, when they have sensed their own wretchedness and have been practically paralyzed by fear. ”They were terrified” (Mk 9:6), says Mark. And yet Peter begins to speak, although he is so dazed that ”he did not know what to say” (Mk 9:6): ”Rabbi, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah” (Mk 9:5).

These words, which Peter speaks in a sort of ecstasy, in the midst of fear yet also in the joy of G.o.d's closeness, have been the object of much discussion. Do they have something to do with the Feast of Tabernacles, on the final day of which the Transfiguration took place? H. Gese contests this and argues that the real point of reference in the Old Testament is Exodus 33:7ff., which describes the ”ritualization of the Sinai event.” According to this text, Moses goes ”outside the camp” to pitch the Tent of Meeting, on which the pillar of cloud then descends. There the Lord and Moses spoke ”face to face, as a man speaks to his friend” (Ex 33:11). On this interpretation, then, Peter's intention is to give permanence to the event of Revelation and erect tents of meeting; the account of the cloud overshadowing the disciples could confirm this reading. It is perfectly possible that the Transfiguration account does contain a reminiscence of the Exodus text; both Jewish and early Christian exegesis customarily interweave different scriptural references so that they converge and complement each other. Nevertheless, the proposal to set up three three tents of meeting argues against such a connection, or at least makes it appear secondary. tents of meeting argues against such a connection, or at least makes it appear secondary.

The connection with the Feast of Tabernacles becomes convincing if we take account of the messianic interpretation of the feast in the Judaism of Jesus' day. Jean Danielou (in The Bible and the Liturgy The Bible and the Liturgy) has made a convincing study of this aspect and linked it with the testimony of the Fathers, who were still quite familiar with the traditions of Judaism and reread them in a Christian context. The Feast of Tabernacles exhibits the same three-dimensional structure that we have seen to be typical of major Jewish feasts generally: a celebration originally borrowed from nature religion becomes at the same time a feast in remembrance of G.o.d's saving deeds in history, and remembrance in turn becomes hope for definitive redemption. Creation, history, and hope become interlinked. If at one time, during the Feast of Tabernacles with its water libation, there had been a prayer for the rain needed in a drought-stricken land, the feast very quickly developed into the remembrance of Israel's wandering through the desert, when the Jews lived in tents (tabernacles, sukkoth sukkoth) (cf. Lev 23:43). Danielou cites Harald Riesenfeld: ”The huts were thought of, not only as a remembrance of the protection of G.o.d in the desert, but also as a prefiguration of the sukkoth sukkoth in which the just are to dwell in the age to come. Thus, it seems that a very exact eschatological symbolism was attached to the most characteristic rite of the Feast of Tabernacles, as this was celebrated in Jewish times” ( in which the just are to dwell in the age to come. Thus, it seems that a very exact eschatological symbolism was attached to the most characteristic rite of the Feast of Tabernacles, as this was celebrated in Jewish times” (Bible and Liturgy, pp. 334f.). In the New Testament, a mention of the eternal tabernacles of the righteous in the life to come occurs in Luke (Lk 16:9). ”The manifestation of the glory of Jesus,” to quote Danielou, ”appears to Peter to be the sign that the times of the Messiah have arrived. And one of the qualities of these messianic times was to be the dwelling of the just in the tents signified by the huts of the Feast of Tabernacles” ( pp. 334f.). In the New Testament, a mention of the eternal tabernacles of the righteous in the life to come occurs in Luke (Lk 16:9). ”The manifestation of the glory of Jesus,” to quote Danielou, ”appears to Peter to be the sign that the times of the Messiah have arrived. And one of the qualities of these messianic times was to be the dwelling of the just in the tents signified by the huts of the Feast of Tabernacles” (Bible and Liturgy, p. 340). By experiencing the Transfiguration during the Feast of Tabernacles, Peter, in his ecstasy, was able to recognize ”that the realities prefigured by the Feast were accomplished...the scene of the Transfiguration marks the fact that the messianic times have come” (pp. 340f.). It is only as they go down from the mountain that Peter has to learn once again that the messianic age is first and foremost the age of the Cross and that the Transfiguration-the experience of becoming light from and with the Lord-requires us to be burned by the light of the Pa.s.sion and so transformed. p. 340). By experiencing the Transfiguration during the Feast of Tabernacles, Peter, in his ecstasy, was able to recognize ”that the realities prefigured by the Feast were accomplished...the scene of the Transfiguration marks the fact that the messianic times have come” (pp. 340f.). It is only as they go down from the mountain that Peter has to learn once again that the messianic age is first and foremost the age of the Cross and that the Transfiguration-the experience of becoming light from and with the Lord-requires us to be burned by the light of the Pa.s.sion and so transformed.

These connections also shed new light on the meaning of the fundamental claim of the prologue to John's Gospel, where the Evangelist sums up the mystery of Jesus: ”And the Word became flesh and pitched his tent among us” (Jn 1:14). Indeed, the Lord has pitched the tent of his body among us and has thus inaugurated the messianic age. Following this line of thought, Gregory of Nyssa reflected on the connection between the Feast of Tabernacles and the Incarnation in a magnificent text. He says that the Feast of Tabernacles, though constantly celebrated, remained unfulfilled. ”For the true Feast of Tabernacles had not yet come. According to the words of the Prophet, however [an allusion to Psalm 118:27], G.o.d, the Lord of all things, has revealed himself to us in order to complete the construction of the tabernacle of our ruined habitation, human nature” (De anima, PG PG 46, 132B, cf. Danielou, 46, 132B, cf. Danielou, Bible and Liturgy, Bible and Liturgy, pp. 344f.) pp. 344f.) Let us return from these broad vistas to the story of the Transfiguration. ”And a cloud overshadowed them, and a voice came out of the cloud, 'This is my beloved Son; listen to him'” (Mk 9:7). The holy cloud, the shekinah, shekinah, is the sign of the presence of G.o.d himself. The cloud hovering over the Tent of Meeting indicated that G.o.d was present. Jesus is the holy tent above whom the cloud of G.o.d's presence now stands and spreads out to ”overshadow” the others as well. The scene repeats that of Jesus' Baptism, in which the Father himself, speaking out of the cloud, had proclaimed Jesus as Son: ”You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased” (Mk 1:11). is the sign of the presence of G.o.d himself. The cloud hovering over the Tent of Meeting indicated that G.o.d was present. Jesus is the holy tent above whom the cloud of G.o.d's presence now stands and spreads out to ”overshadow” the others as well. The scene repeats that of Jesus' Baptism, in which the Father himself, speaking out of the cloud, had proclaimed Jesus as Son: ”You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased” (Mk 1:11).

The solemn proclamation of Sons.h.i.+p, however, is now followed by the command ”Listen to him.” At this point, we are reminded of the link with Moses' ascent of Mount Sinai, which we saw at the beginning to be the background of the Transfiguration story. On the mountain, Moses received the Torah, G.o.d's teaching word. Now we are told in reference to Jesus: ”Listen to him.” H. Gese has provided a perceptive commentary on this scene: ”Jesus himself has become the divine Word of revelation. The Gospels could not ill.u.s.trate it any more clearly or powerfully: Jesus himself is the Torah” (Zur biblischen Theologie, p. 81). This one command brings the theophany to its conclusion and sums up its deepest meaning. The disciples must accompany Jesus back down the mountain and learn ever anew to ”listen to him.”

If we learn to understand the content of the Transfiguration story in these terms-as the irruption and inauguration of the messianic age-then we are also able to grasp the obscure statement that Mark's Gospel inserts between Peter's confession and the teaching on disciples.h.i.+p, on one hand, and the account of the Transfiguration, on the other: ”Truly, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the dominion of G.o.d [the Kingdom of G.o.d] come with power” (Mk 9:1). What does this mean? Is Jesus predicting that some of the bystanders will still be alive at the time of his Parousia, at the definitive inbreaking of the Kingdom of G.o.d? If not, then what?

Rudolf Pesch (Markusevangelium, II, 2, pp. 66f.) has convincingly argued that the placing of this saying immediately before the Transfiguration clearly relates it to this event. Some-that is to say, the three disciples who accompany Jesus up the mountain-are promised that they will personally witness the coming of the Kingdom of G.o.d ”in power.” On the mountain the three of them see the glory of G.o.d's Kingdom s.h.i.+ning out of Jesus. On the mountain they are overshadowed by G.o.d's holy cloud. On the mountain-in the conversation of the transfigured Jesus with the Law and the Prophets-they realize that the true Feast of Tabernacles has come. On the mountain they learn that Jesus himself is the living Torah, the complete Word of G.o.d. On the mountain they see the ”power” (dynamis) of the Kingdom that is coming in Christ.

Yet equally, through the awe-inspiring encounter with G.o.d's glory in Jesus, they must learn what Paul says to the disciples of all ages in the First Letter to the Corinthians: ”We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power [dynamis] of G.o.d and the wisdom of G.o.d” (1 Cor 1:23f.). This ”power” (dynamis) of the coming Kingdom appears to them in the transfigured Jesus, who speaks with the witnesses of the Old Covenant about the necessity of his Pa.s.sion as the way to glory (cf. Lk 24:26f.). They personally experience the antic.i.p.ation of the Parousia, and that is how they are slowly initiated into the full depth of the mystery of Jesus.

CHAPTER TEN.

Jesus Declares His Ident.i.ty Already during Jesus' lifetime, people tried to interpret his mysterious figure by applying to him categories that were familiar to them and that were therefore considered apt for deciphering his mystery: He is seen as John the Baptist, as Elijah or Jeremiah returning, or as the Prophet (cf. Mt 16:14; Mk 8:28; Lk 9:19). In his confession, Peter uses-as we have seen-other, loftier t.i.tles: Messiah, Son of the living G.o.d. The effort to express the mystery of Jesus in t.i.tles that explained his mission, indeed, his essence, continued after Easter. Increasingly, three fundamental t.i.tles began to emerge: ”Christ” (Messiah), ”Kyrios” (Lord), and ”Son of G.o.d.”

The first t.i.tle, taken by itself, made little sense outside of Semitic culture. It quickly ceased to function as a t.i.tle and was joined with the name of Jesus: Jesus Christ. What began as an interpretation ended up as a name, and therein lies a deeper message: He is completely one with his office; his task and his person are totally inseparable from each other. It was thus right for his task to become a part of his name.

This leaves the two t.i.tles ”Kyrios” and ”Son,” which both point in the same direction. In the development of the Old Testament and of early Judaism, ”Lord” had become a paraphrase for the divine name. Its application to Jesus therefore claimed for him a communion of being with G.o.d himself; it identified him as the living G.o.d present among us. Similarly, the t.i.tle ”Son of G.o.d” connected him with the being of G.o.d himself. Of course, the question as to exactly what sort of ontological connection this might be inevitably became the object of strenuous debate from that moment on, as faith strove to prove, and to understand clearly, its own rational content. Is he ”Son” in a derivative sense, referring to some special closeness to G.o.d, or does the term ”Son” imply that within G.o.d himself there is Father and Son, that the Son is truly ”equal to G.o.d,” true G.o.d from true G.o.d? The First Council of Nicea (325) summed up the result of this fierce debate over Jesus' Sons.h.i.+p in the word h.o.m.oousios, h.o.m.oousios, ”of the same substance”-the only philosophical term that was incorporated into the Creed. This philosophical term serves, however, to safeguard the reliability of the ”of the same substance”-the only philosophical term that was incorporated into the Creed. This philosophical term serves, however, to safeguard the reliability of the biblical biblical term. It tells us that when Jesus' witnesses call him ”the Son,” this statement is not meant in a mythological or political sense-those being the two most obvious interpretations given the context of the time. Rather, it is meant to be understood quite literally: Yes, in G.o.d himself there is an eternal dialogue between Father and Son, who are both truly one and the same G.o.d in the Holy Spirit. term. It tells us that when Jesus' witnesses call him ”the Son,” this statement is not meant in a mythological or political sense-those being the two most obvious interpretations given the context of the time. Rather, it is meant to be understood quite literally: Yes, in G.o.d himself there is an eternal dialogue between Father and Son, who are both truly one and the same G.o.d in the Holy Spirit.

The exalted Christological t.i.tles contained in the New Testament are the subject of an extensive literature. The debate surrounding them falls outside the scope of this book, which seeks to understand Jesus' earthly path and his preaching, not their theological elaboration in the faith and reflection of the early Church. What we need to do instead is to attend somewhat more closely to the t.i.tles that Jesus applies to himself, according to the evidence of the Gospels. There are two. Firstly, his preferred self-designation is ”Son of Man”; secondly, there are texts-especially in the Gospel of John-where he speaks of himself simply as the ”Son.” The t.i.tle ”Messiah” Jesus did not actually apply to himself; in a few pa.s.sages in John's Gospel we find the t.i.tle ”Son of G.o.d” on his lips. Whenever messianic or other related t.i.tles are applied to him, as for example by the demons he casts out, or by Peter in his confession, he enjoins silence. It is true, of course, that the t.i.tle Messiah, ”King of the Jews,” is placed over the Cross-publicly displayed before the whole world. And it is permissible to place it there-in the three languages of the world of that time (cf. Jn 19:19f.)-because now there is no longer any chance of its being misunderstood. The Cross is his throne, and as such it gives the correct interpretation of this t.i.tle. Regnavit a ligno Deus Regnavit a ligno Deus-G.o.d reigns from the wood of the Cross, as the ancient Church sang in celebration of this new kings.h.i.+p.

Let us now turn to the two ”t.i.tles” that Jesus used for himself, according to the Gospels.

THE S SON OF M MAN.

Son of Man-this mysterious term is the t.i.tle that Jesus most frequently uses to speak of himself. In the Gospel of Mark alone the term occurs fourteen times on Jesus' lips. In fact, in the whole of the New Testament, the term ”Son of Man” is found only on Jesus' lips, with the single exception of the vision of the open heavens that is granted to the dying Stephen: ”Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of G.o.d” (Acts 7:56). At the moment of his death, Stephen sees what Jesus had foretold during his trial before the Sanhedrin: ”You will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven” (Mk 14:62). Stephen is therefore actually ”citing” a saying of Jesus, the truth of which he is privileged to behold at the very moment of his martyrdom.

This is an important finding. The Christology of the New Testament writers, including the Evangelists, builds not on the t.i.tle ”Son of Man,” but on the t.i.tles that were already beginning to circulate during Jesus' lifetime: ”Messiah” (Christ), ”Kyrios” (Lord), ”Son of G.o.d.” The designation ”Son of Man” is typical for Jesus' own sayings; in the preaching of the Apostles, its content is transferred to the other t.i.tles, but this particular t.i.tle is not used. This is actually a clear finding. And yet a huge debate has developed around it in modern exegesis; anyone who tries to get to the bottom of it finds himself in a graveyard of mutually contradictory hypotheses. A discussion of this debate lies outside the scope of this book. Nevertheless, we do need to consider the main lines of the argument.

Three sets of ”Son of Man” statements are commonly distinguished. The first group consists of sayings concerning the Son of Man who is to come, sayings in which Jesus does not point to himself as the Son of Man, but distinguishes between the one who is to come and himself. The second group comprises sayings about the earthly activity of the Son of Man, while the third speaks of his suffering and Resurrection. The predominant trend among exegetes is to regard only the first group-if any-as authentic sayings of Jesus; this reflects the conventional interpretation of Jesus' preaching in terms of imminent eschatology. The second group, which includes sayings about the authority of the Son of Man to forgive sins, about his lords.h.i.+p over the Sabbath, and about his having neither possessions nor home, is said to have developed-according to one main line of argument-in early Palestinian tradition. This would point to quite an early origin, but not as far back as Jesus himself. Finally, the most recent sayings would be those concerning the death and Resurrection of the Son of Man. In Mark's Gospel, they occur at intervals during Jesus' journey up to Jerusalem, and naturally, according to this theory, could only have been created after the events in question-perhaps even by the Evangelist Mark himself.

Splitting up the Son of Man sayings in this way is the result of a certain kind of logic that meticulously cla.s.sifies the different aspects of a t.i.tle. While that might be appropriate for rigorous professorial thinking, it does not suit the complexity of living reality, in which a multilayered whole clamors for expression. The fundamental criterion for this type of interpretation rests, however, on the question as to what we can safely attribute to Jesus, given the circ.u.mstances of his life and his cultural world. Very little, apparently! Real claims to authority or predictions of the Pa.s.sion do not seem to fit. The sort of toned-down apocalyptic expectation that was in circulation at the time can be ”safely” ascribed to him-but nothing more, it would seem. The problem is that this approach does not do justice to the powerful impact of the Jesus-event. Our reflections on Julicher's exegesis of the parables have already led us to the conclusion that no one would have been condemned to the Cross on account of such harmless moralizing.

For such a radical collision to occur, provoking the extreme step of handing Jesus over to the Romans, something dramatic must have been said and done. The great and stirring events come right at the beginning; the nascent Church could only slowly come to appreciate their full significance, which she came to grasp as, in ”remembering” them, she gradually thought through and reflected on these events. The anonymous community is credited with an astonis.h.i.+ng level of theological genius-who were the great figures responsible for inventing all this? No, the greatness, the dramatic newness, comes directly from Jesus; within the faith and life of the community it is further developed, but not created. In fact, the ”community” would not even have emerged and survived at all unless some extraordinary reality had preceded it.

The term ”Son of Man,” with which Jesus both concealed his mystery and, at the same time, gradually made it accessible, was new and surprising. It was not in circulation as a t.i.tle of messianic hope. It fits exactly with the method of Jesus' preaching, inasmuch as he spoke in riddles and parables so as to lead gradually to the hidden reality that can truly be discovered only through disciples.h.i.+p. In both Hebrew and Aramaic usage, the first meaning of the term ”Son of Man” is simply ”man.” That simple word blends together with a mysterious allusion to a new consciousness of mission in the term ”Son of Man.” This becomes apparent in a saying about the Sabbath that we find in the Synoptics. It reads as follows in Mark: ”The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath” (Mk 2:27f.). In Matthew and Luke, the first sentence is missing. They record Jesus as saying simply: ”The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath” (Mt 12:8; Lk 6:5). Perhaps the explanation is that Matthew and Luke omit the first sentence for fear that it will be abused. Be that as it may, it is clear that according to Mark the two sentences belong together and interpret one another.

To say that the Sabbath is for man, and not man for the Sabbath, is not simply an expression of the sort of modern liberal position that we spontaneously read into these words. We saw in our examination of the Sermon on the Mount that this is exactly how not not to understand Jesus' teaching. In the Son of Man, man is revealed as he truly ought to be. In terms of the Son of Man, in terms of the criterion that Jesus himself is, man is free and he knows how to use the Sabbath properly as the day of freedom deriving from G.o.d and destined for G.o.d. ”The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.” The magnitude of Jesus' claim-which is an authoritative interpretation of the Law because he himself is G.o.d's primordial Word-becomes fully apparent here. And it also becomes apparent what sort of new freedom devolves upon man as a result-a freedom that has nothing to do with mere caprice. The important thing about this Sabbath saying is the overlapping of ”man” and ”Son of Man”; we see how this teaching, in itself quite ordinary, becomes an expression of the special dignity of Jesus. to understand Jesus' teaching. In the Son of Man, man is revealed as he truly ought to be. In terms of the Son of Man, in terms of the criterion that Jesus himself is, man is free and he knows how to use the Sabbath properly as the day of freedom deriving from G.o.d and destined for G.o.d. ”The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.” The magnitude of Jesus' claim-which is an authoritative interpretation of the Law because he himself is G.o.d's primordial Word-becomes fully apparent here. And it also becomes apparent what sort of new freedom devolves upon man as a result-a freedom that has nothing to do with mere caprice. The important thing about this Sabbath saying is the overlapping of ”man” and ”Son of Man”; we see how this teaching, in itself quite ordinary, becomes an expression of the special dignity of Jesus.

”Son of Man” was not used as a t.i.tle as a t.i.tle at the time of Jesus. But we find an early hint of it in the Book of Daniel's vision of four beasts and the ”Son of Man” representing the history of the world. The visionary sees the succession of dominant secular powers in the image of four great beasts that come up out of the sea-that come ”from below,” and thus represent a power based mainly on violence, a power that is ”b.e.s.t.i.a.l.” He thus paints a dark, deeply disturbing picture of world history. Admittedly, the vision does not remain entirely negative. The first beast, a lion with the wings of an eagle, has its wings plucked out: ”It was lifted up from the ground and made to stand on two feet like a man, and the heart of a man was given to it” (Dan 7:4). Power can be humanized, even in this age of the world; power can receive a human face. This is only a relative salvation, however, for history continues and becomes darker as it progresses. at the time of Jesus. But we find an early hint of it in the Book of Daniel's vision of four beasts and the ”Son of Man” representing the history of the world. The visionary sees the succession of dominant secular powers in the image of four great beasts that come up out of the sea-that come ”from below,” and thus represent a power based mainly on violence, a power that is ”b.e.s.t.i.a.l.” He thus paints a dark, deeply disturbing picture of world history. Admittedly, the vision does not remain entirely negative. The first beast, a lion with the wings of an eagle, has its wings plucked out: ”It was lifted up from the ground and made to stand on two feet like a man, and the heart of a man was given to it” (Dan 7:4). Power can be humanized, even in this age of the world; power can receive a human face. This is only a relative salvation, however, for history continues and becomes darker as it progresses.

But then-after the power of evil has reached its apogee-something totally different happens. The seer perceives as if from afar the real Lord of the world in the image of the Ancient of Days, who puts an end to the horror. And now ”with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man...And to him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him; his dominion is an everlasting dominion...and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed” (Dan 7:13f.). The beasts from the depths are confronted by the man from above. Just as the beasts from the depths represent hitherto existing secular kingdoms, the image of the ”Son of Man,” who comes ”with the clouds of heaven,” prophesies a totally new kingdom, a kingdom of ”humanity,” characterized by the real power that comes from G.o.d himself. This kingdom also signals the advent of true universality, the definitive positive shape of history that has all along been the object of silent longing. The ”Son of Man” who comes from above is thus the ant.i.thesis of the beasts from the depths of the sea; as such, he stands not for an individual figure, but for the ”kingdom” in which the world attains its goal.

It is widely held among exegetes that this text rests upon an earlier version in which ”Son of Man” indicated an individual figure. We do not possess this version, though; it remains a conjecture. The frequently cited texts from 4 Ezra 13 and the Ethiopian Book of Enoch that do portray the Son of Man as an individual figure are more recent than the New Testament and therefore cannot be regarded as one of its sources. Of course, it would have seemed obvious to connect the vision of the Son of Man with messianic hope and with the figure of the Messiah himself, but we have no textual evidence that this was done dating from before Jesus' public ministry. The conclusion therefore remains that the book of Daniel uses the image of the Son of Man to represent the coming kingdom of salvation-a vision that was available for Jesus to build on, but which he reshapes by connecting this expectation with his own person and his work.

Let us turn now to the scriptural pa.s.sages themselves. We saw that the first group of sayings about the Son of Man refers to his future coming. Most of these occur in Jesus' discourse about the end of the world (cf. Mk 13:2427) and in his trial before the Sanhedrin (cf. Mk 14:62). Discussion of them therefore belongs in the second volume of this book. There is just one important point that I would like to make here: They are sayings about Jesus' future glory, about his coming to judge and to gather the righteous, the ”elect.” We must not overlook, however, that they are spoken by a man who stands before his judges, accused and mocked: In these very words glory and the Pa.s.sion are inextricably intert

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