Open and free healing. A Jewish cynic. History remembered and prophecy historicised. Such has been the impact of John Dominic Crossan on the study of the historical Jesus that phrases like those - which more or less define his conclusions about the life of Jesus and what happened to him later - have passed into common currency among New Testament scholars and interested lay theologians. Books like this one (the popularised version of `Jesus: the Life of a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant') give us that view of Jesus in relatively short order.
And what a view. It's impossible not to be - almost simultaneously - unsettled at how much of the New Testament he sweeps away (no Joseph of Arimathea, probably no encounter with Pilate); and inspired at the revolutionary assessment of the likely impact of his boundary-breaking choice of eating companions, category-defying approach to healing of social exclusion (`illness') and egalitarianism - the latter eclipsed by a later `writing-in' of leaders such as Paul, Peter and James. But for all the sweeping grandeur of some of its conclusions, this is also an often nuanced book: Crossan's espousal of Jesus as Cynic philosopher is well-known but, on the evidence of this book, slightly over-simplified in the popular imagination. There are similarities to the Cynic school in Jesus' approach, but also differences - he is rural, they urban; he organising a communal movement, they pursuing an individualist philosophy. A Cynic philosopher perhaps, but a very peasant, very Jewish one.
Lots to enjoy here, then and I did thoroughly enjoy the read, which is demanding without being abstruse, iconoclastic without being sensationalist. The problem the book leaves, though, is the gap between Crossan's Jesus - very credible because socially situated, albeit sometimes rather narrowly conceived in 19th-century Marxist `class' terms - and the Christ of faith. Such a large gap, though, that it looks pretty unbridgeable in the time and space available before he becomes that object of faith in Paul's letters and the gospels, even allowing for the possibility of skilled exegetes among Jesus followers that Crossan posits. Different understandings of his passion (as historical, as a narrative, as fulfilment of prophecy) would seem to demand competing - or perhaps complementary - Jesus groups, but Crossan never really explains how this variety of interpretations might have originated, given the Jesus he depicts. Crossan's intriguing - and valuable - account of myth-making about Jesus aside, there's definitely a sense that there must have been more to Jesus than the author allows, for him to have become so attractive to so many so quickly after his death. Not wholly convincing, then, but should definitely be read by anyone wanting to keep up with current debate on the historical Jesus.