Nov. 9, 2025 - Who is this Jesus? Lunatic?

There's a question that has echoed through two thousand years of human history, a question that has sparked countless debates in marketplaces, universities, coffee shops, and living rooms. It's a question that deserves our honest attention, our careful thought, and our willingness to be challenged: Who is Jesus?

Not who do we think he should be. Not who we've been told he is. But who does he actually claim to be when we read his words in the Gospels?

The Red Letters Matter
If you've ever picked up one of those red-letter Bibles—the ones where Jesus's words are printed in red—you know there's something powerful about reading those passages. The words leap off the page with an authority that demands a response. They're not the kind of words you can simply nod at politely and move on.

When we truly engage with what Jesus said about himself, we're confronted with claims that are, quite frankly, extraordinary. In John 14, when Philip asks Jesus to show them the Father, Jesus responds with words that should make us pause: "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father."

Think about that for a moment. Jesus isn't saying he's a good teacher who can point us toward God. He's not claiming to be a prophet who speaks on behalf of God. He's saying something far more radical: to see him is to see God himself.

Three Possibilities, One Question
The famous Christian author C.S. Lewis, who was himself once a skeptic, wrestled deeply with these claims. His journey from atheism to faith led him to articulate what's now known as Lewis's Trilemma. When confronted with Jesus's claims about himself, Lewis argued, we really only have three options:

1. Jesus was a lunatic—someone delusional who genuinely believed he was God
2. Jesus was a liar—someone who knew he wasn't God but made the claims anyway
3. Jesus is Lord—he was and is exactly who he claimed to be
   
   

What we can't do, Lewis insisted, is dismiss Jesus as merely a good moral teacher. Good moral teachers don't go around claiming to be God. That option isn't on the table when we honestly engage with Jesus's words.

The "I Am" Statements
In John 8:58, Jesus makes one of his most provocative statements: "Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am." The religious leaders who heard this immediately picked up stones to kill him. Why such an extreme reaction?

Because they understood exactly what Jesus was claiming. When Moses encountered God in the burning bush and asked for God's name, God replied, "I AM." This wasn't just a name—it was a declaration of eternal, unchanging existence. It was the sacred name of God himself.

So when Jesus said "I am," he wasn't just making a grammatical statement. He was identifying himself with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He was claiming divinity.

Throughout John's Gospel, we see Jesus repeatedly using this phrase: "I am the bread of life," "I am the light of the world," "I am the way, the truth, and the life," "I am the resurrection and the life." Each statement builds on this foundational claim to divine identity.

The Ancient Struggle to Understand
The early Christians took these claims seriously—so seriously that they spent centuries wrestling with the implications. In the marketplaces of ancient cities like Alexandria, Ephesus, and Rome, ordinary Christians debated theological questions that might seem abstract to us today but were deeply personal to them.

How could Jesus be fully God and fully human? How could the unchanging God experience birth, growth, suffering, and death? These weren't academic exercises—they were attempts to understand the most important event in human history.

The early church eventually articulated what theologians call the "hypostatic union"—the teaching that in Jesus, full humanity and full divinity were united in one person. The two natures remained distinct yet were inseparably joined. It's one of the great mysteries of faith, something that transcends our complete understanding yet invites our trust.

The Comfortable Path Away from Faith
Here's an uncomfortable truth: when life is easy and comfortable, we tend not to think deeply about God. When everything is going smoothly, when we have all our needs met, when there are no sudden stops or sharp turns in our path, faith can become an afterthought.

This is precisely why comfortable Christianity can be so dangerous. Not because comfort itself is wrong, but because it can lull us into spiritual complacency. We can attend church, mouth the right words, and never truly wrestle with the radical claims of Jesus.

The question "Who is Jesus?" isn't meant to be answered once and filed away. It's meant to be lived with, wrestled with, and answered again and again through the choices we make and the lives we live.

Making It Personal
So who is Jesus to you? Not who is he to your parents, your pastor, or your church tradition. Who is he to you personally when you read his words in the Gospels?

Does your life reflect your answer to that question? If Jesus is just a good teacher, then perhaps we can take or leave his advice as it suits us. But if Jesus is who he claimed to be—if he is indeed Lord—then everything changes. Our priorities shift. Our values transform. Our very purpose for existence takes on new meaning.

The beautiful and challenging thing about Jesus is that he doesn't leave us the option of comfortable neutrality. His claims are too bold, too direct, too consequential. He forces us to decide.

An Invitation to Wrestle
Perhaps the most faithful response to the question "Who is Jesus?" is not to answer too quickly or too glibly, but to enter into the wrestling match. To read the Gospels with fresh eyes. To let Jesus's words challenge our assumptions. To bring our doubts and questions honestly before God.

The early Christians understood something we often forget: theology isn't just for scholars in ivory towers. It's for people in the produce aisle, for conversations over coffee, for the ordinary moments of life where we try to make sense of the extraordinary claims of Jesus.

Who is Jesus? Lunatic, liar, or Lord? The question remains, waiting for your answer—not just in words, but in the way you live your life.