Some Christians interpret Jesus' promises as justification for deadly snake-handling and other death-defying deeds. Is that wise?
It turns out that the tragic news that a Zimbabwe pastor was eaten alive by crocodiles in front of his congregation is a classic example of fake news.
Many people were taken in by the story, and this is perhaps because it had an element of plausibility to it.
And that is because it would not have been the first time Christians have been killed attempting to imitate Christ's miraculous deeds. Some have died from extreme fasting, while others have been bitten by deadly snakes in their attempt to live out the Jesus' alleged promise: 'They will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all' (Mark 16:18).
For those wondering if they're faithless for not handling pythons, there's a good explanation for the Mark 16 passage – many scholars believe it to be inauthentic, at least not part of Mark's original Gospel.
But if there's one verse that really captures the radical Christian enthusiasm of this kind, it's Jesus' words to his disciples in John 14:12-14: 'Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father. Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it.'
Jesus, who performed lots of miracles in his ministry, told his followers that they would do 'greater works' than he. For some, this is a commission to exceed the powers that even Jesus displayed. It's a call to be bigger and better in ministering the miraculous.
But what did Jesus really mean? These are words that have puzzled readers for millennia. As we've seen, the stakes of interpretation are high. Either some are gravely misunderstanding Jesus, or others are ignoring one of his greatest promises.
Is faith blind? Does it mean risking your life?
Some interpreters say the emphasis is not in quality but in extent: Jesus' followers wouldn't exceed his power – walking on water, raising the dead etc – but they would exceed his reach. Reaching out beyond Israel and 'to the ends of the earth', and over 2,000 years of global Church history, Jesus' followers would certainly reach wider than he did in his short ministry.
Another popular interpretation sees the 'greater work' as witness to Jesus' gospel, only fully unveiled after his death, resurrection and ascension. John Piper suggests that since the function of Jesus' works is to witness to him, so the disciples will now have the greater power to witness to Christ, in fuller knowledge of his ministry.
The witness need not be miraculous (it may simply be love and good deeds that glorify God), but it still points to the Father. The 'greater things' come because never before have the disciples been able to share a Spirit-filled message of complete forgiveness for all.
As Piper suggests: 'What's new and greater is that never before in the history of the world had anyone ever been forgiven by faith in the already crucified, already risen, already reigning, already indwelling Christ.'
That reading actually makes good sense in the context of the story of Scripture. But what of the truly miraculous? There clearly is a miraculous ministry in the early Church, seen through the Spirit-filled disciples in the book of Acts.
Paul too refers to the gift of working miracles, but calls it one gift among many that not all will have. As he asks in 1 Corinthians 12:29-30: 'Do all work miracles? Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak with tongues?'
Since Jesus' promise is addressed to all believers ('whoever believes in me') but miraculous gifts are not promised to all by Paul, there's reason to conclude that Jesus' words aren't exclusively about working wonders.
None of this is to say that Jesus didn't want his followers do work miracles of healing or other intervention through the Holy Spirit, but it's also not a blank cheque for blind and life-threatening faith.
The tragedy of people who died through taking this promise literally is that 'faith', in Scriptural terms, is meant to stir life and hope, but here it has only brought death and despair. Ironically, these ill-fated demonstrations of faith may well have crushed the faith of many.
A wise pastor of mine once said: 'You can't trust God for things he hasn't promised'. It's dangerous and foolish to test God in that way.
There are some ambiguous verses in Scripture, but a brief look at Church tradition, the lived experience of believers – and a healthy dose of reason – offers wise direction for understanding them.
The disciples faced death as a cost of radical witness, which is different. The New Testament talks much about faith as a profound gift in a dark world – it doesn't tell people they're invincible.
Wise Christian living can't mean just 'me and my Bible', ignoring church tradition and interpretation.
No church seriously invested in studying the Bible could think that Jesus called his followers to be daredevil stunt artists. The call is radical servanthood, a ministry for others which may involve the miraculous, or the more mundane. It's a life that takes deep trust (faith), but doesn't live to drastically prove its commitment to others.
Lastly, we live in a broken world where humans are fragile and death is real. Only a fool bets against such powers to make a point.
In a fallen world, promises offer hope, and faith offers life. But in a fallen world, it matters what you trust. Faith in fake promises can only spell despair – just as trust in what turns out to be fake news only brings embarrassment. We can all learn lessons from these episodes – both when they happen, and when they turn out not to have happened at all.
