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Toward the end of the last presidential campaign, I heard an amusing report on one of the cable news networks about the candidates' determination to get out their "talking points" in all of their interviews, regardless of what question they were asked. They had obviously decided, in their closed-door strategy sessions with their inner circle of campaign strategists, that they needed to try to bring all interviews back to the topics that were most favorable to them, and to hit a few key points on those topics whenever they had an opportunity to do so.

Both candidates seemed to be doing this, rather consistently -- that was the point of the report. What was funny was hearing them do it as tapes of their recent interviews were played. First, we'd hear the question that a reporter had asked. Then we'd hear the candidate's reply, after the reporter had encouraged us to pay attention to whether the reply had anything to do with the question.

Whew! It really made my head spin, how quickly the candidates could shift from the topic of a question that they apparently didn't want to answer to their favorite "talking points," those familiar refrains that we'd nearly memorized by that time in the campaign, we'd heard them so often. I guess the campaign managers knew what they were doing, in pushing these sound bite talking points, but it made for a funny story when you paid attention to the questions they were asked, on the one hand, and the answers, quite on the other.

Come to think of it, I can recall noticing this in prior campaigns, and it's not just politicians who have mastered the art of changing the subject. It's a skill that just about anyone who has to handle questions from the public needs to have, if only for their own survival.

Jesus' skills in this regard are probably unsurpassed, aren't they? So many times in the gospel accounts, Jesus is asked a tough question, and somehow he comes up with an answer that shifts the focus from a question that could really have put him on the spot with a reply that masterfully uses the question as a springboard for an answer that leaves everyone gaping in awe and amazement.

I think of the passage when Jesus was asked whether it's lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not. This was a tough question to answer. If he were to say, "Yes," he might be seen as violating Jewish beliefs about the importance of worshiping only one God, for the emperor, too, claimed to be divine. If he were to say, "No," that might have ended his ministry right there, with a swift arrest and conviction for inciting disobedience of Roman tax laws. So instead, he said, "Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar's; and to God the things that are God's" (Matthew 22:21). Wow. Jesus slipped right off that hot seat, leaving everyone either marveling or muttering.

Jesus is no amateur when it comes to changing the subject -- he sets the standard of excellence. He does it again in today's passage, but what's odd is that there doesn't seem to be any reason for it. Some Greeks had shown up at a festival, and had said to Philip, "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." These were probably not people from Greece itself, but rather people who weren't Jewish living in the eastern Mediterranean region. With the conquest of Alexander the Great, Greek language and culture had become dominant, and many urban residents had adopted Greek as their primary language. Interestingly, they had approached Philip, who went by a Greek name, who may have seemed more approachable for that reason. Philip then went to Andrew, the only other disciple with a Greek name, and together they went and told Jesus.

"Jesus," they may have said, "there are some Greeks here at the festival who would like to see you. Is that okay? Or should we tell them it's not possible?" The gospel account doesn't give us the exact content of what they said to Jesus -- just that they went and let him know some Greeks wanted to see him.

The gospel account does give us his reply: "Jesus answered them, 'The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.' " And on he continued, about how those who love their life will lose it, and how those who hate their life will keep it, and serving, and following, and how whoever serves Jesus God will honor.

All good stuff, but what did I miss? Didn't Philip and Andrew ask just about whether some Greek visitors to the festival could see Jesus? This seems like a pretty heavy-duty answer to that question. I wonder what Philip and Andrew told them, based on Jesus' response -- did Jesus mean yes or no?

Apparently they interpreted Jesus' lofty, paradox-filled answer as a "Yes," because later in the passage we see that Jesus is speaking with a crowd. Or is it just that the crowd had gathered when they all heard a voice booming down from heaven, "I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again." This is getting confusing.

What I do want to latch onto in all of this, and I can't say whether this is what prompted Jesus' wordy reply, is the keen interest that the Greeks had in seeing Jesus. It doesn't say that they had an important question to ask him; just, "Sir, we wish to see Jesus."

Can you relate to that? I sure can. I remember as a child, when I was learning about Jesus and the Christian faith, thinking that the disciples must have had a much easier time knowing what Jesus was all about, since they were right there with him, on a daily basis. Some people are harder to figure out than others, but I had no doubt that, if I had been there alongside the disciples, I would have had firsthand knowledge of what Jesus was trying to accomplish. Of course, now I know that there are lots of passages in the gospels in which even the original disciples, who were right there with him, seemed clueless to the point of almost being funny. So I guess that the incredible privilege the disciples had, of being with Jesus all the time, including several private teaching sessions, didn't ensure that they would truly "get it."

But that doesn't mean that I still don't long to have been there, to have been able to see Jesus. Theologian Douglas John Hall suggests that this stems from a very basic need of our faith. If our faith is to be real, then we will have to encounter Jesus himself in some manner, and not just encounter some ideas about him. Because of this need, we're constantly fashioning images of Jesus for ourselves. According to Hall, "It is essential to faith understood as trust to picture Jesus." But, he reminds us, "as the commandment against 'graven images' warns, our (necessary!) image-making is never without its perils." The more concrete and specific our image of Jesus is, the greater the danger that we're narrowing the fullness of the meaning of his ministry. Hall observes, "As we picture the Christ, the central figure of our faith, so we shall conduct ourselves as Christians in the world."1

We need to see Jesus, and the process of envisioning him has its dangers. Do we see him as divine? This may do wonders for the eternal state of individual "souls," but does this imply that the well-being of humans on this planet is of secondary importance? Do we see him as conqueror? This tends to foster an imperialistic, us-first nationalism versus the other nations that are also full of God's children. Do we see him as redeemer? Does that mean that God's created order is doomed? Do we see him as accepting? Does that mean we all should accept the way things are, even if so many aren't as economically or physically well-off as others?

Truly seeing Jesus, Hall would have us realize, entails letting go of some of our favorite, most familiar ideas about who Jesus is. By discussing and sharing ideas about Jesus, we can all broaden the horizon of who we picture Jesus to be.

Ultimately, it's as a matter of becoming, ourselves, the Christ that others can't see. New Testament scholar N. T. Wright points us to the story of the encounter with Jesus on the road to Emmaus. Walking that road, Jesus fell in with two others who were walking as they talked about the recent events in Jerusalem (Luke 24:13-35). That very morning, the two had been astounded to learn that Jesus' tomb was empty. This only seemed to have added confusion to their feelings of disappointment and despair over the crucifixion.

Unrecognized by them, Jesus ministered to them, listening to their stories, and explaining the meaning and significance of what had happened. The risen Christ, unrecognized, unseen. An inspiring example of ministry, and reminder to us that the point of Christian ministry and living is not that we be recognized as Christians, but rather that we reach out in love to touch the needs of others.

How tempting it is to think we need to stamp all that we do as Christians with a large-print label indicating our Christian intentions. How thought-provoking to consider that we might "see" and "be" Christ best in acts of love and care without the signs and labels, and without any expectation of receiving credit or appreciation.

"Sir, we wish to see Jesus." An understandable desire. And one that we might try to help others achieve, perhaps best in unrecognized acts of love. How can we be the unseen Christ?


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1.ÊDouglas John Hall, "We Would See Jesus" ; Internet; accessed August 6, 2004.