Jesus loved messing with religious leaders of his day. At least, that's how it seems to me. Especially in the Gospel of John, he's always luring them into traps, hinting at meaning without spelling it out, and turning their own arguments back on them. He's brilliant. He also makes some pretty powerful points - even by what he doesn't actually say.
For example, he says to the Jewish leaders in John 8:21, "[I]f you do not believe that I am he, you will indeed die in your sins." Actually, in Greek it says, "[I]f you do not believe that I am, you will indeed die in your sins." The English translators have supplied the missing "he" so it makes sense. But Jesus intended it not to make sense - at least, not if taken at face value: "Believe that I am." Huh? The Jewish leaders either miss or they refuse to accept his allusion to the name of God (I AM). Instead, they respond with confusion to the seemingly unfinished sentence: "You are? You are...what? whom? Who are you?" (8:25).
Often we, too, want to understand Jesus. We want him to tell us who he is and not leave any ambiguity. We want to identify specific aspects of his character, anticipate accurately what he's going to say and do, nail down the details so we can be sure of him and know where we stand and how to respond. But the longer I've been involved in Immanuel Prayer, the deeper I've seen ministry sessions go. And the deeper the ministry sessions go, the less they involve words and mental "aha" moments. In place of words and concepts, Jesus offers a deep, wordless presence that goes far beyond what our minds can comprehend.
Most of the time we find words for our gratitude and new ways of articulating his character and the perspective he offers, but these come later - sometimes weeks or months later - as the impact of time in his presence works its way up from the inside out. Whether or not we ever find the words, though, the immediate experience of Jesus' presence at the most personal, almost physically tangible, heart and gut level does something inside that changes us. He offers not definitions or descriptions or understanding but himself. In places deeper than concepts and words can touch, he simply offers, "I am."