Genius omissions about Jesus

In a little over a week, the spring semester begins at Southeast Missouri State. It's a decided privilege once again to teach a subject close to my heart -- and since you are reading this column -- perhaps close to yours as well: New Testament Literature.

The number of enrollees will ebb and flow in the first couple of weeks, as it does for many classes at Southeast. Students are examining me, looking at the syllabus requirements and ultimately figuring out if they can go the distance until May. At the moment, 22 students are signed up.

The New Testament is not a history of the ancient Near East. Its purpose is to reveal Jesus of Nazareth, but it is not intended as a biography. The gospel writers decided what was important for readers to know about an itinerant carpenter hailing from a backwater village in the region of Galilee. Each had a perspective but the bottom line for all four is that this man is God incarnate, "the Word made flesh," as John put it.

I'm currently reading an old biography of Vince Lombardi. Our youngest daughter, Rachael -- who also writes for this newspaper -- got it for me for Christmas. Lombardi, as many will know, coached the Green Bay Packers to multiple championships in the 1960s and died young of cancer in 1970. The Lombardi Trophy is awarded to the winner of each year's Super Bowl.

It's striking how different the Lombardi bio, 1999's "When Pride Still Mattered," by David Maraniss, is from Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

In Maraniss' treatment, we learn Lombardi's father, Enrico "Harry" Lombardi, was heavily tattooed and in the wholesale meat business in lower Manhattan. On Harry's hands the words "Work" and "Play" were imprinted on the knuckles. Vince's dad, according to biographer Maraniss, was a harsh disciplinarian with a gruff exterior, who liked to tell his son -- "No one is ever hurt -- hurt is in your mind!" Any sports enthusiast with even a cursory knowledge of the legendary coach will connect the dots from Harry's attitude to the way son Vince ran his teams.

There is none of this background color about Jesus' life. We are told his dad, Joseph, was not his biological father, that the second person of the Christian Trinity was conceived by the Holy Spirit. We also know Joseph worked in the carpentry trade and had a dream that persuaded him to take the pregnant Mary as his wife. There is a brief tale about an adolescent Jesus wandering away from his parents during a festival pilgrimage to Jerusalem. And then Joseph disappears -- never to be heard from again.

I would love to know if Joseph imparted any life philosophy to his son as Harry did for Vince.

I would enjoy knowing if Joseph had any hobbies to which he introduced Jesus. Did they go fishing together, for example? A story about Joseph showing Jesus how to bait his line would be welcome.

Anyone searching for tidbits like these in the New Testament will come away disappointed.

The chroniclers of the Son of Man's life determined what was necessary to know -- and stopped there.

Even Paul, whose letters occupy much of the New Testament, was uninterested in biography.

"I determined," he once dictated to a scribe, "to know nothing among you but Jesus Christ and him crucified." (I Corinthians 2:2/King James Version)

It has taken a long time for me to understand these omissions but now I find their lack to be the work of genius. We are left with scant bio data because, in the possession of same, we will tend to obsess over minutiae. If I knew, for example, that Jesus preferred night crawlers to minnows, I will allow my mind to focus on this because I enjoy fishing. The men who presented us with Jesus' life wanted us to know his words and many of his incredible deeds -- his miracles, his healings, his courage in the face of unjust execution and his resurrection. That's what we've got. And it's about all we've got. As the British say, brilliant.

In my 61st year and after multiple years of teaching this subject to 18-to-22-year olds, I've determined that what I've wished to know about the Master is not what I ultimately need to possess.