The Man Nobody Knows

Barton organizes the book on the assumption that theological tradition and artistic depictions have misrepresented Jesus. He argues that Jesus has been portrayed as “a pale young man with flabby forearms and a sad expression” (x), the antithesis of courageous David fighting and defeating Goliath. Jesus was characterized as “the lamb of God” and “meek,” and looked feminized, painted as if he had “a woman’s face covered by a beard” (43). Jesus supposedly never laughed and only went around “telling people not to do things” (x).

Barton begins his revision of Jesus’ image by announcing that there has been a literary overemphasis on Jesus as the Son of God. In the book, Barton emphasizes Jesus as the Son of Man, the human side. Barton stresses Jesus’ masculinity by pointing out that he would have developed muscles from years of toil as a carpenter and a bronzed look from his life in the open air, walking from village to village. Barton also suggests that Jesus must have been healthy to restore health to others. Barton claims that Jesus was sociable and enjoyed life on the basis that he dined at people’s homes and transformed water into wine to keep a wedding celebration from failing.

Barton then goes beyond his argument for a more accurate view of Jesus’ human side. Barton tries to depict Jesus “as the founder of modern business” (xiii). Barton portrays Jesus as a visionary executive who created a world-conquering organization by recognizing the potentials hidden in unlikely men and carefully training them to courageously expect dangers and obstacles. Barton suggests that Jesus’ approach to prospective believers brilliantly exemplifies modern salesmanship principles, including the use of parables as advertisements.

Barton characterizes John the Baptist as both an inspiration to Jesus and as a foil. According to Barton, the younger Jesus “looked up to and admired his handsome, fearless cousin” and was interested in the reports of John’s “impressive success” (13) in the larger world, as John demanded repentance and baptized people. When Jesus went to be baptized by John, his reception was “flattering” and Jesus “was in a state of splendid exultation” about doing “the big things which John had done” (14). However, Barton claims that Jesus had “the voice and manner of a leader—the personal magnetism which begets loyalty and commands respect,” which even John sensed. John exclaimed that he needed to be baptized by Jesus: “the lesser man recognized the greater instinctively” (19).

Barton presents John the Baptist as an Old Testament type of prophet: “the last of this majestic succession of thunderers,” (66) who were stern-faced, moral men denouncing people for their sins. John the Baptist wore animal skins, avoided the wicked cities, and fasted in the wilderness. In contrast, Barton claims that Jesus was not a social outsider, but enjoyed attending celebrations and dining at people’s homes. Jesus focused more on God as a loving Father who wanted His children to be happy. John the Baptist even questioned Jesus’ conduct because he did not keep all of the stipulated fasts. Barton asserts that Jesus’ best friend, John the Baptist, misunderstood Jesus’ different method of working and doubted Jesus prior to his own tragic death at the hands of King Herod. John the Baptist lacked organizational ability: “He could denounce, but he could not construct” so his followers left and “his movement gradually collapsed” (30). Jesus started with less than John, but he successfully molded his small group of followers into a successful organization.

Jesus’ mother Mary is characterized in the text as someone who does not fully understand her son but supports him. She is surprised and uncertain when 12-year-old Jesus authoritatively tells her that he must be about his father’s business at the Temple in Jerusalem. She looks on in wonder when Jesus transforms water into wine at the Cana wedding feast: “He had somehow saved the situation; she did not question how” (65).

However, Barton critiques “the glorification of Mary” in theology which he believes has led to the “almost complete neglect of Joseph” (40). The son of a Protestant clergyman, Barton reveals both an anti-Catholic bias and a latent misogyny in suggesting that the exaltation of Mary in worship has diminished the role of the masculine. He asserts that this strong feminine influence in the church has led to the portrayal of a weak, feminized Jesus. While he acknowledges that thoughtful men are thankful for the “betterment of woman’s life by the fact that millions of human beings have been taught from infancy to venerate a woman,” he seeks “a larger reverence to be given to that quiet unassuming Joseph” (40) and a revision of Jesus’ image as a manly, physically strong leader.

Joseph, Mary’s husband, is portrayed by Barton as “quiet” and “unassuming,” largely forgotten because of “the glorification of Mary” in theology, which “denied any large place to the masculine” (40-41). Barton asks if Joseph was only “an untutored peasant, married to a superior woman, and baffled by the genius of a son” (41). He suggests that perhaps Joseph had “a vigor and faith that molded his son’s plastic years” (41), as Jesus would have apprenticed with him to become a carpenter. Since Joseph is a “vastly significant and wholly unknown man,” Barton arrives at his own conclusion that Joseph was “friendly and patient and fine […] an almost ideal parent” (41). Barton bases his hypothesis on the fact that “when Jesus sought to give mankind a new conception of the character of God, he could find no more exalted term for his meaning than the one word, ‘Father’” (41-42).