Читать книгу Worldly Wisdom and Foolish Grace - Barbara Carnegie Campbell - Страница 10
Introduction
ОглавлениеWorldly Wisdom and Foolish Grace
Saul of Tarsus persecuted the followers of Jesus during the early part of the first century CE but had a dramatic change of heart, they say, as he was traveling one day toward the city of Damascus. Christian tradition claims that his name was changed to “Paul” shortly after that experience. Paul became one of the most well-known itinerant preacher and evangelist in the history of Christianity as he spread the message of Jesus to the Gentiles.
Many of the words of Paul and those who worked with him are recorded in the Epistles of the Younger Testament in the form of letters, or epistles, to the followers of “the Way,” as the first century communities of those who followed Jesus were called. In a letter to followers of “The Way” in the city of Corinth, the man who we now call “The Apostle Paul” wrote about the foolishness of God’s grace which stands against the wisdom that the world perceives.
For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.” Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. (1 Cor 1:18–21)
. . . God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are. (1 Cor 1:27–28)
Each of the lessons from Abraham’s Tent in this book begins with an exploration of what this “worldly wisdom” typically has to say on the subject of that lesson. I am using the phrase “worldly wisdom” in the same way that the Apostle Paul used the phrase, with sarcasm, to refer to the often trusted, taught, and passed down understanding of the secular cultures we live within.
Such “worldly wisdom” is not necessarily truly wise, helpful, or effective. Webster’s Ninth Collegiate Dictionary defines “wisdom” as, “1 a: accumulated philosophic or scientific learning: knowledge b: ability to discern inner qualities and relationships: insight c: good sense: judgment 2 a wise attitude or course of action 3:the teachings of the ancient wise men.”1
“Worldly wisdom” often does not lead to the best ends or the best means, but the “foolish grace” taught by Abraham, Jesus, and Mohammad, peace be upon them, is often exactly the discerning path of understanding that creates real justice and wholeness. Islam respects all prophets equally. A traditional way of showing this respect is to bless the prophets by saying “Peace be upon him (or them)” every time their name/s are spoken or written. I offer this blessing now to all prophets referred to in this study, as a way of blessing them throughout this book while not interrupting the flow of the reading by adding a typed blessing at each reference to a prophet.
The term “foolish grace” was coined when Paul wrote that “the message of the cross is foolishness.”(1 Cor 1:18) The message of the cross of Jesus is unmerited, unconditional sacrificial love rather than submission to the injustices of Roman oppression. The cross of Jesus can be summed up as the ultimate metaphor for grace. Webster’s Dictionary lists as its first definition of grace, “unmerited divine assistance given man (sic) for his regeneration or sanctification.”2 Grace is the recognition of unmerited gifts which bring peace, wholeness and goodness.
“Foolish grace” points to the fact that such unmerited favor is often seen as unwise or unbelievable by cultural standards. In truth, though it may seem foolish to those whose goal is personal security or betterment and who often believe that there is a scarcity of goods to go around, such “foolish” grace is the way to abundant and true life as opposed to the path of life that is “dead.”
During the United States presidential campaign of 2016, the divisions between the right and left wings of religion and culture in our country became dramatically deeper and more confusing. What once felt like common etiquette and common, civilized behavior was suddenly ignored in public everywhere.
The moral values that most of us held dear, regardless of which side of the political and religious fences we were on, values such as kindness, compassion, understanding, and caring for others, were threatened; truth seemed to prevail only in the eye of the beholder who began to self-select the truth that fit best for them; the goals of justice and equality were replaced by goals of personal and national wealth, security, and priority.
Although the wisdom of the world is diverse, we once generally felt our particular culture pulling us toward a common understanding of the right way to behave. Instead, we (and our children) are now pulled by media messages, commercials, movies, television, and the conversations of our family, friends, and neighbors to so called “wisdom” that does not improve human life. These messages include ideas such as:
“You should fear the stranger.”
“You will be happier if you are wealthy and own lots of stuff.”
“You are more lovable if you are young and have a prescribed and preferred body and appearance.”
“You must use violence to protect yourself from your enemies.”
“Women and children are weak and less valuable in our society.”
“People with different speech or skin color or religious belief are dangerous and therefore not to be trusted.”
The values of most faith traditions may seem “foolish” to those who trust in the “wisdom” of the world today but we have seen for ourselves, we know from experience, that values such as compassion, nonviolence, and humility are the only forces that have given real success to struggles for peace and justice throughout human history.
Lessons from Abraham’s Tent
The Abrahamic Tradition of faith is often referred to as “the children of Abraham” or “Abraham’s tent.” Within Abraham’s tent we find the faith of three of the major world religions: the faith of the Hebrew people which became, over time, the religion called “Judaism,” the faith of those who followed a Judean/Jewish teacher, Jesus of Nazareth, which became known as “Christianity,” and the faith of those who followed the revelations of Allah’s messenger, the angel Gabriel, to the Prophet Mohammad, which became known as “Islam.”
These three “families of faith” within Abraham’s tent hold many of the same stories within each of their sacred spiritual texts. The Christian faith grew out of stories and lessons that Jesus told from Torah and other writings that are now part of the Christian Elder Testament. The Quran, God’s revelation to the Prophet Mohammad in the seventh century CE, includes many of the stories of Abraham and other Elder Testament prophets, as well as many of the stories of Jesus found in the Younger Testament.
These three faith traditions are monotheistic religions which believe in one creator God. Abraham is credited as the founder of monotheism by all of these faith traditions. Mohammad, in his travels throughout the Middle East as a merchant, met Jews and Christians and heard their faith stories. The story is told that Mohammad may have been so discouraged by the constant conflict and violence between those two religions, which were so closely related, that he continued to listen for a new message from Allah about a more pure form of living faithfully as Allah willed.
Many people who are part of these three faith groups acknowledge today that they worship the same God, the same divine Ground of all Being. There is little disagreement within Abraham’s tent today about whether the “foolish grace” of Yahweh/God/Allah and the “wisdom” of the world are often on radically different moral and ethical tracks.
One of the over-arching lenses through which I have studied the scriptures of the Elder and Younger Biblical Testaments and have learned to think theologically is the lens of interfaith understanding, especially the lens of those sharing Abraham’s tent. Each chapter in this study will begin with three quotes, listed in chronological order, first a quote from the Elder Testament, then one from the Synoptic Gospels of the Younger Testament, then a quote from the Quran or the Hadith of Islamic traditions.
The Elder Testament quotes are taken from the Tanakh, the English translation completed by The Jewish Publication Society in 1985. “Tanakh” is a word originating from an acronym which represents the three major parts of Hebrew Scripture: t for Torah, n for nevi’im or prophets, and k for kethuvim or writings.
The Tanakh was first translated into an Aramaic version called the Targum. Because many Jews in the Helenistic world spoke Greek, the Tanakh was also quickly translated into a Greek version, called the Septuagint, after the “seventy-two” translators who worked on it. Legend has it that each of the seventy-two came up with an identical translation even though they worked separately.3
Unless I include a specific reference in the footnotes, the scripture references taken from the Elder and Younger Testaments of Christian scripture throughout this study will be taken from New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. The New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) was first published in 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the USA. This version replaced the Revised Standard Version which the National Council of Churches had published in 1952.
The spiritual quotes from the Islamic tradition are taken from two sources. I take these quotes from the Quran which contains the revelations the Prophet Muhammad received from God’s messenger, the Angel Gabriel; messages which Islam considers the literal word of God. I will be quoting from “The Study Quran” with Editor-in-Chief, Seyyed Hossein Nasr. This is the translation and commentary that sits near my desk at all times.
Islamic quotes will also be taken from “The Wisdom of the Prophet: Sayings of Muhammad” which translates selections from the Hadith, the second most important literary source in Islam, into English. The Hadith do not contain revelations, in the sense that the Quran is considered a complete revelation. Hadith was collected about two centuries after the Prophet’s death to document what the Prophet is remembered as saying or doing during his lifetime and relied on people’s memories over generations. A rule of thumb in Islam is that if any hadith is contrary to or not supported by the Quran, it cannot be considered valid.
Let me share, a this point, a few stories from my personal faith and interfaith journey. I have spent nearly seven decades listening to and studying stories about the man people call “Jesus of Nazareth” and “Jesus, the Christ.” This man, most agree, lived two thousand years ago on the other side of the world. As a child, adults told me stories of Jesus that led me to understand him as a man of compassion, acceptance, and love. As I grew in understanding, I accepted that Jesus uniquely and sacrificially revealed the divine One to me and therefore had “saved” me from all that sought to destroy my life.
Later, I began to hear from some Christians that only the followers of Jesus were “saved.” Many said he was the only divine son of the one and only God who judged people severely for their mistakes and saved only those who believed in Jesus. Believing in Jesus, many told me, made people “good enough” to go to heaven when they died. Only by God’s grace did I refuse (eventually) to believe that the one God was vindictive and violent and continue to know Jesus as one who perfectly revealed a compassionate, forgiving, and grace-filled Creator.
Perhaps it was this conflict between two understandings of Christianity that finally led me to seek a seminary education. I went to learn how to study the words of Christian scripture more deeply so that I could defend and share the compassion and justice of the God I knew and trusted. In a Christian seminary, it was no surprise that as I learned how to study ancient literature most of what I studied was the Younger Testament. I had chosen to attend a progressive seminary within a reformed Christian denomination so that I could study many theologies of the divine other than that of a God who seeks retribution and saves only a chosen few.
When I became an ordained Presbyterian (PCUSA) minister who preached to a congregation regularly, I continued to study the biblical texts that I was called to interpret to others. I read many different interpretations of these stories from many Christian commentaries.
I found the same interpretations repeated almost verbatim again and again in many of these commentaries as if the authors were simply copying each other. Once in a while I found newer research based on what is called “The Search for the Historical Jesus.” The theologies of these scholars, who other Christians sometimes considered heretical, began to line up with the Jesus I had known since childhood. The “historical Jesus” spoke less to salvation doctrine and more to how one could live faithfully and in keeping with a divine calling.
In 2003, I became the pastor of St. Mark Presbyterian Church in Portland, Oregon, one of the most progressive Presbyterian Church in the USA (PCUSA) congregations in Oregon, and one of only three open and affirming “More Light” congregations in Cascades Presbytery. I felt I had finally found my people, my tribe, within my life-long PCUSA community. St. Mark had been a founding member, before I became their pastor, of both the Community of Welcoming Congregations of Oregon and the Interfaith Council of Greater Portland.
In 2007, a member of a small Jewish Renewal congregation called P’nai Or (which means literally “faces of light”) walked into my office at St. Mark asking if her community could rent space in our building on Fridays and Saturdays. Since we were not using the building on those days, our congregation agreed eagerly anticipating, initially, some much needed additional income. It wasn’t long, however, before we appreciated even more deeply the relationship that began to develop between P’nai Or and St. Mark and the fact that they could help us reconnect with our Christian roots by teaching us much more about stories within the Elder Testament and Judaism.
We grieved with these brothers and sisters from P’nai Or when their founding rabbi and our friend, Rabbi Aryeh Hirshfied, z’tl died in a tragic scuba diving accident in Mexico in 2009. (z’tl is a shortened Hebrew phrase which is transliterated as “His name is a blessing” and is used in the Jewish tradition to show deep respect to those who have died.) St. Mark stood alongside P’nai Or, in compassion and support, at Aryeh’s memorial service at St. Mark.
Almost a year later, two amazing experiences brought us even closer together. First of all, Rabbi Zaslow, the Interim Rabbi of P’nai Or at that time, offered to teach a class based on his soon to be published book, Roots and Branches. One night each week for six weeks, over sixty people from P’nai Or, St. Mark and other churches in the area, came together in an over-crowded fellowship hall at St. Mark to study with Rabbi David. I took on the assignment from Rabbi David to prime our discussions each week with some of the sticky issues that complicated our Christian/Jewish dialogue.
In this class, Christians and Jews alike began to understand Jesus as a spiritual seeker who had been immersed in the study of Torah. Torah is also called the Pentateuch (from the Greek, penta, for five) and refers to the first five books in the Elder Testament which are attributed to Moses. Jesus had been taught the words of Torah since he was a young boy. Most of the words, images and stories that Jesus used in his teachings were learned from Torah. The justice and healing that Jesus worked to create during his lifetime was the justice and healing that he had learned from Torah and had heard the Elder Testament prophets declare to be God’s will.
Not long after our shared class, during our Wednesday night choir practice preceding Good Friday, I looked down into the sanctuary from the choir loft and saw that P’nai Or’s set up person was preparing the sanctuary for their Friday Shabbat service. St. Mark also planned to be in the sanctuary at the same time for our Good Friday worship that night. I had forgotten to remind P’nai Or of our Good Friday worship service!
The following morning, I called Rabbi David. He immediately came into the church where we recognized that we had little time to get word out about a change of venue for either group. After considering whether we could simply find separate places in the building for each group to meet, we began wondering if it would be possible to create an experience of worship that would connect spiritually with Christians (who were mourning the crucifixion and death of Jesus) and Jews (who had been blamed for the death of Jesus by Christians for nearly 2,000 years). We knew full well that such a thing had probably never been attempted before but decided we should do what we both felt called by the Spirit to do.
I knew that first of all I had to remove the First Century CE anti-Semitic editorial polemics from the Passion Story of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion that attempted to blame “the chief priests, all the elders, and the people;” and subsequently “all Jews” for the death of Jesus. Some of those anti-Semitic texts are: Matt 26:3–5; 27:1–2, 20–22, 24–25; Mark 14:1–2; 15:1, 6–15, and Luke 22:3–6, 66–71, 23:1–5, 13–23.
As I began to re-translate the offensive words of the Passion Story into phrases that perhaps better reflected the truth of what happened, Rabbi David walked back and forth from my office to the sanctuary where he had continued to pray about whether such an interfaith Good Friday/Passover experience was even possible. When I read him the texts I had revised, he asked me, “Can you do that?” My response was, “It’s been retranslated and revised for two thousand years!”
We decided to create a fairly traditional Christian Good Friday worship experience with the P’nai Or congregation being invited to stand with us in our time of mourning with their prayers and worship. We began, however, as the Jewish Shabbat begins every Friday evening, by lighting the two Shabbat candles. Then, as Christians traditionally observe on Maundy Thursday, we observed Communion remembering that the Last Supper of Jesus with his disciples was also the last Passover Seder meal that Jesus shared with his Jewish followers.
Rabbi David prayed the traditional Passover Seder prayers behind the communion table with his arms outstretched and his head covered with his prayer shawl. When his prayers ended and I had offered the traditional Christian words used before communion, Christians came forward to receive the bread and dip it into the common cup of grape juice. Some of the Jews, when invited, also came forward a bit cautiously and tore off a piece of bread from the same loaf and took a small cup of juice from a tray on the table which represented the traditional last cup shared at their annual Seder meal.
Our Jewish brothers and sisters later prayed their ancient Prayer for the Martyrs as the Christians stood around the communion table and lit candles in memory of Jesus. We sang Christian and Jewish songs celebrating the martyrs and mourning the crucifixion of Jesus. We ended with a recitation of Psalm 23 by a ten-year-old girl; a psalm that is read at both Good Friday services and Jewish memorials.
As the service concluded, the Christians left mourning the death of Jesus at the hands of those Romans and Judeans in power who feared his message and popularity. St. Markers left in silence, walking behind the still-burning Christ Candle that I carried out of the darkened sanctuary.
Seven Tenebrae candles had shared the communion table that evening with the two Shabbat candles. The Tenebrae candles had been extinguished one by one following each lesson telling the story of Jesus’ death. As St. Markers and P’nai Or members came out mingled together into the foyer some turned around and looked back into the dark sanctuary and saw only the two Sabbath candles still burning, candles which represent, in the Jewish tradition, the kingdom of God still to come in fullness to the world.
The Jews left the sanctuary that night mourning the death of one of their great Judean teachers and prophets. Thousands of other Judeans had also died on crosses that hung on the roads leading in and out of Jerusalem during those years; thousands of others had been crucified, like Jesus, suspected of acts of sedition against Rome. It was clear to all of us that there was a serendipitous, holy spirit present that Good Friday Shabbat evening that embraced, comforted and led each of us to new depths of faith.
As Christians typically do after Good Friday services, members of St. Mark left the foyer directly that evening into the parking lot, to drive or walk home silently in the darkness of the night. As Jews do every Friday night after their Shabbat service, the Jewish congregation walked into our fellowship hall for refreshment and conversation. I had gone into my office to disrobe when a member of P’nai Or appeared at my door inviting me to join them in the fellowship hall. When I entered the hall everyone was sitting silently, which was highly unusual for this typically talkative group.
Rabbi David began playing his guitar and P’nai Or joined in singing to me. The memory of that moment still brings tears. I can only tell you a few of the words of their song: “Be not afraid. He walks beside you always . . .” When I asked member of P’nai Or, after the singing, how the worship experience had been for them, they shared feelings like, “You gave us back Rabbi Jesus!” “I finally understand what Easter means,” and “I no longer feel angry or blamed for his death.”
Our relationship with P’nai Or drew us into even greater interfaith connections in our community. I joined people of many faiths on the Interfaith Council of Greater Portland, an organization formed in Portland, Oregon by three spiritual leaders from Abraham’s tent following 9/11.
Rizwan Mosque, not far from St. Mark, is the oldest mosque in Portland and a bit like our missing triplet. Ahmadiyya Muslims, Jewish Renewal Congregations, and More Light Presbyterians are progressive faith communities equally rejected by some traditional members of their own faith traditions.
In 2013, leaders from Rizwan Ahmadiyya Islamic Mosque, P’nai Or, and St Mark decided to plan together for an Abraham’s Tent Summer Day Camp for children and youth from our three faith communities. We coordinated and directed the week-long, all day camp jointly for two summers until St. Mark had to give up its building due to financial difficulties. We discovered amazing similarities between our three traditions and within our three sacred texts. One of our day camp adult leaders described the Interfaith Summer Camp experience as an opportunity to build peace in our community:
In this day and age we find ourselves deeply interconnected through technology. A ten-year-old can connect with anyone around the world with a computer and access to the Internet. She may play a game or post a message on a Facebook page. This kind of interaction, in fact, has become quite common, but what we lack is face-to-face connection. What we lack even more is the opportunity to sit down and reason together with people who think and worship differently. If we did that more often, perhaps we would let go of fear and understand what Abdullah, another youth participant, realized: “I learned that we are all more alike than I thought.” Maybe we’re concerned about offending. Maybe we don’t know where to begin a conversation or don’t want to appear ignorant. Interfaith dialogue requires courage, but the alternative, as we have seen (during this summer of violence against strangers), can be tragic. St. Mark, P’Nai Or, and the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community took a chance for one week that some in all three faiths might frown upon. But sixteen children now have a greater knowledge of themselves and the world in which they live after walking through the flaps of Abraham’s Tent together. And peace just took a monumental step forward.
As part of Abraham’s Tent, Jewish, Christian, and Islamic children and their adult leaders were amazed to learn that the Quran contains many of the stories found in the Elder and Younger Testaments. The message that the Prophet Mohammad delivered to his people, the Quran, is filled with stories about Abraham, Moses, the Prophets, Mary, Jesus, and many other characters found in the Bible. It became clear that we could understand our own sacred texts better as we became more familiar with the other sacred writings from Abraham’s tent.
P’nai Or worshipped with St. Mark every year after that on Good Friday and we continued our summer interfaith Abraham’s Tent Day Camp until the St. Mark congregation was dissolved due to declining finances. St. Mark members moved on to several other PCUSA congregations in Portland while P’nai Or staying on in the building which they rented from the Presbytery.
During these years, I had the wonderful opportunity to share a small sacred text study with two special friends: Angela, a life-long leader in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and Arif, a life-long leader from the Rizwan Ahmadiyya Muslim community. The three of us met monthly having decided ahead of time that we would come with texts, stories or understandings from our own faith tradition that spoke to a certain theme such as peacemaking, ecology, compassion, salvation, prophets, inclusion, or justice. My faith was so enriched and broadened by these conversations and loving friendships.
At the beginning of each chapter in this book, I include epigraphs of sacred texts from Torah, The Younger Testament Gospels and The Quran or Muslim Hadith writings as examples of how all three of these ancient texts reveal the same truth and divine will on how we are to live together.
For the sake of time and convenience through this study, I will call the one divine Ground of all Being, the one divine energy of love and peace that we worship, “God.” In my own mind, I sometimes substitute the word “Good” for “God” when I’m trying to see things from the point of view of those of no faith or those whose faith is non-theistic. I do not claim to understand “God,” as separate or different in any way from “Adonai,” “Allah,” or any of the other names people give to their experience of the Holy.
Ancient Lessons for Today
Jesus, was a Judean religious teacher called, by those who knew him, “Yoshua,” a common Hebrew name which would have been pronounced Yeshua or Yehoshua, in Hebrew. The English names “Jesus” and “Joshua” are derivatives of this common Arabic name.
Jesus lived 2,000 years ago in what is now Israel and Palestine. His words, which many believe are recorded, in some fashion, in the Gospels, are ancient words spoken for people who lived long ago and far away. We live in a time and place that is changing faster than ever. Younger generations are no longer accepting, verbatim, what religious institutions have long been trying to convince others to believe through the literal reading of their ancient texts.
Sharing the good news that Jesus taught is the true definition of “evangelism.” Evangelism is usually misunderstood by today’s culture. Evidence of this comes even from Webster’s Dictionary which includes as its definition of “evangelism” “1: the winning or revival of personal commitments to Christ 2: militant or crusading zeal.”4 News reporters say that 72 percent of white evangelicals support Trump as if 72 percent of all Republicans and other conservative citizens are out there spreading the good news, trying to create or revive commitment to Christ.
It is harder than ever to teach the ancient lessons of Abraham’s tent, because fewer and fewer people have heard the stories enough times for the stories to have the same effect on their lives that they have had on others. At one point in history, most tribal life included participation in the rituals and beliefs of the entire tribe. At one time the majority of people in a village shared the same understanding of the God that they worshiped and the direction of the village priest, which dictated every part of their lives with the requirements for going to heaven or hell. Most of the Europeans who came as the first immigrant settlers to North America would have professed to being Christian, even as they became colonizers, killing off those whose land they assumed God had given to them to inhabit because of their faith.
Faith is not as easy to come by as it used to be. Recent generations have been born into a world filled with technologies and scientific understandings far beyond that of the world their parents and grandparents knew. Cultural connections, community relationships and moral perspectives can now be found in many places other than religious centers. And on top of this, the hypocrisy, injustice, and violence of many religious traditions has become all too evident.
We live in a different religious culture today. Many changes have taken place throughout the course of human history in the understanding and practice of established religions. Some of these changes took thousands of years to take effect and others, such as the Great Reformation of the 1500s, took little more than a hundred years. With the turn of the twenty first century, not only the United States but other modernized nations began to experience another “reformation” of culture and tradition. Historians predict that the twenty first century will dramatically change not only economic, technological, and social norms, but the theology and practice of our faith traditions as well. Within another hundred years everything will look and work differently around us.
But take heart, if you are a person of faith! Faith is not dying. It is just evolving, as it did 500–600 years ago. That’s how human societies seem to operate. Every 500 years most advanced cultures of the world experience a systemic and dynamic change in everything people once held as true, traditional, and trustworthy. New light starts gradually shining on established roles, norms, and expectations during the century preceding these great changes and eventually, even those most unwilling to change eventually do so.
Dr. Phyllis Tickle, a historian, professor and scholar of Christian history and theology, wrote in 2012 about this next wave of great societal change in her book “The Emergence Church:”
Of the several general characteristics that the Great Emergence and Emergence Christianity hold in common, these of deinstitutionalization; non-hierarchical organization; a comfortable and informed interface with physical science; dialogical and contextual habits of thought; almost universal technological savvy; triple citizenship with its triple loyalties and obligations; a deeply embedded commitment to social justice with an accompanying, though largely unpremeditated, assumption of all forms of human diversity as the norm; and a vocation toward greenness—these undoubtedly are among the most characterizing.5
Tickle’s book should be “required reading” by any who hope to ride out the wave of the next reformation into a better understanding of what it means to be people of faith and church. What Tickle and other emergent faith leaders are saying to faith communities is that the generations born after the 1970s are more likely to be disillusioned by the hypocrisies of established religions than any generation before them.
Yet, as many who reject religious institutions look for a way to make life better, more just, and more meaningful, many alternate worshipping communities, who draw in Millennials by gathering in brew pubs or coffee shops, are being led by those who preach the same biblical understanding that belief in Jesus alone grants salvation.
Millennials hope to be inspired by goodness and love. Some may feel there is still hope for people of faith, but they are looking for something other than hours spent in worship and charitable giving spent mostly on supporting large facilities and organizations. They are only willing to accept a gospel message which teaches compassion, inclusion, and justice for all.
Many in younger generations are seeking ways to live a life that is loving, kind and just, but are moving away from worshiping deities, especially those who are imagined in human images (theism), and are turning instead toward embracing the teachings of other “light-bearers” so that they can be inspired to act in the world in life-giving ways.
I recently drove by a neighborhood church reader board that asked, “Have your answers to life brought peace to this world? This comes very close to expressing what many people in younger generations are seeking: spiritual answers that bring peace to the world rather than a set of religious beliefs and rules that judge, condemn, and divide us.
I still believe in the God of Abraham whom I have heard stories of since I was a child, but I have grown in my faith and understanding. My faith has changed. Today I trust in a divine force of creation that is a force of good, of light and of love; invisible yet at work in the world; mysterious yet as alive and as real to me as every beat of my heart and every breath I take.
I trust that this divine force formed divinity within all creatures and all creation. After all, it is said that “75 percent of our genetic make-up is the same as a pumpkin.”6 I trust that Jesus and other uniquely spiritual people were so in touch with the divinity within themselves that ordinary people sensed that divinity in unique ways.
How Then Should We Live?
Most of us want to do the right thing, ethically and morally, but life is complicated and it is often quite difficult to figure out what that right thing is. Human nature often distracts us from making the right decision when we try to balance conflicting options.
A popular saying could be found, years ago, written on everything from bracelets to bumper stickers—“What Would Jesus Do?”—or the even more irritating acronym,—WWJD? I usually find this catchy question to be about as helpful as lighting a candle in a hurricane when it comes to making faithful, moral decisions. How could anyone ever truly know what someone, who lived 2,000 years ago, would think or do in the twenty–first century? We don’t have a perfectly preserved original document of everything Jesus said, thought or did, regardless of what some people believe the Bible to be!
And yet, as unrealistic as this question sounds, those who have heard the stories of Jesus sometimes feel as if Jesus has become a present, living reality in their lives. Such a living relationship enables them to feel that they know, sometimes beyond any doubt, what Jesus would do. The memories and stories of beloved friends, teachers, or other great minds might guide us in the same way.
In the end, to ask ourselves what the persons we respect most would do or say about an issue should help us find answers to the even more important question, “What should I do?” When we seek values that will strengthen our common life, ancient spiritual narratives may be a good place to begin. It is important, however, to study these lessons in their appropriate contexts, cultures, and languages. The purpose of studying these ten lessons from Rabbi Jesus, and similar lessons from Jewish and Islamic holy texts, is to help us understand how to best live in accordance with the radically “foolish” compassion and grace they affirm.
Studying Ancient Literature
It is a complicated, often impossible task to understand, with any level of assurance, what ancient writings may have meant to their original authors and audience. Yet, it’s an endeavor and adventure that can lead to treasures beyond measure. A literal treasure hunt usually begins with a map with a spot marked X. We follow the map to that spot where we do lots of digging. In researching ancient texts we must dig through ancient manuscripts written in ancient languages along with endless translations, the perceived historical context in which the text was written, and many other layers of literary and historical information if we hope to find any treasure. We can only hope to get closer to some layer of deeper meaning. The unknown imagination of an often unknown author may prevent us from finding the precious information we seek. Even though we may never discover the entire truth of a particular text, it is worth the digging just to get closer than we once were.
It is important to study ancient texts by looking at the original languages in which the texts were written. English translations of early Aramaic and Greek biblical texts, for instance, often reveal textual translations and interpretative decisions that may not have been totally objective. It is far too easy to read what we expect to read or hope to read into a text we are translating. The study of original languages looks for the interpretive option which seems most appropriate in the originating context and culture.
I will do some of my own such dangerous interpretive work in this study. It is my goal to look behind the familiarity of the English translations to hear the original message in its own language. I am not, however, as trained in these ancient languages as are many scholars. I have relied on only a select few translations into English from the original Aramaic or Greek languages and will not attempt to use original languages in looking at translations from the Tanakh or Quran.
Lacking conclusive evidence about the identity of the author/s of each of the Synoptic Gospels, I will use the name ascribed to the gospel as shorthand for the actual author. For instance, I will use “Matthew”, to refer to the unknown author/s of the Gospel of Matthew. This is for the simplification of reading and not because I am assuming that the author’s name was actually Matthew.
During my digging for treasures in scripture, I have used many tools of understanding. In terms of Christian scripture, these layers sometimes included:
an understanding that many texts in the Younger Testament (Gospels and Epistles) are rooted in the Elder Testament (Torah, Prophets, and Wisdom literature),
an understanding that Jesus and most, but not all, of the other Younger Testament writers were Judeans steeped in Torah, not Jews as we know them today or Christians. (Terms which came into use many centuries later.)
an understanding that possible evangelistic polemics could have influenced the retelling of the oral stories passed down to the authors and later work by editors and translators, and
an understanding that Mohammad’s revelation recorded in the Quran is deeply connected with the Abrahamic traditions of both Judaism and Christianity.
Some Christian texts are distorted by shameful anti-Jewish or anti-Semitic sentiments that arose during the centuries following Jesus’ death (such as those that we changed for our Good Friday/Passover Worship). Though original writers, editors or translators may have had the best of intentions, they may have been heavily influenced by the fears and prejudices of their time.
It is disturbing, none the less, that some of their words have been used to spread hatred toward our Jewish brothers and sisters since the time of Jesus. It is important to re-translate these texts which misrepresent and misstate the events of Jesus’ life, trial and death and developed into the dangerous Christian doctrines of Super-secession-ism, and Replacement Theology.
“Supersecessionism” is the understanding that Christianity supersedes Judaism, that Christianity fulfills Biblical Judaism, and that Jews, therefore, who deny that Jesus was the Jewish Messiah, fall short in their calling as God’s chosen people. An even more radical form of Super-secession-ism is “Replacement Theology,” which maintains that the Jews are no longer considered God’s chosen people because the Christian gospel has replaced the law and commandments of the Jewish people.
Literary scholars use the word “criticism” to describe various techniques used in studying literature. Many different forms of this sort of criticism have been developed to help us interpret the meaning of ancient texts. The major types of biblical criticism include but are not limited to:
1 “textual” criticism which is concerned with establishing the original or most authoritative text,
2 “philological” criticism which is the study of the biblical languages for an accurate knowledge of vocabulary, grammar, and style of the period,
3 “literary” criticism which focuses on the various literary genres embedded in the text in order to uncover evidence concerning date of composition, authorship, and original function of the various types of writing that constitute the specific literature being examined,
4 “tradition” criticism which attempts to trace the development of the oral traditions that preceded written texts,
5 “form” criticism which classifies the written material according to the pre-literary forms, such as parable or hymn,
6 “redaction” criticism which studies how the documents were assembled by their final authors and editors, and
7 “historical” criticism, which seeks to interpret writings in the context of their historical settings.7
In the last several decades historical criticism has received special attention in the attempt to discover more about the historical nature of a certain figure, such as Jesus. Historical criticism has led us to what may be the most authentic words these historical figures taught or wrote.
Most scholars of ancient literature use textual, contextual and literary criticism, at least, in deciding which words are most likely the authentic words of their ascribed speaker or author, rather than the interpretation of a later author, who may or may not have known the original speaker or author personally, or the interpretation and polemic of a later editor and/or translator. For instance, if the perceivable date of a text seems to be after the death of the ascribed author or from within a community of which the speaker or author could not have been a part, scholars identify that text as not completely original.
Jesus, a Judean Teacher
The terms “Rabbi, Jew, Jewish, and Judaism” came into use around the fourth century CE. Most of these terms come from the word “Judean.” In the area that is now Israel and Palestine, “Judeans” were the people from lands to the north, also called the tribe of Judah, and “Israelites” were from the south and tribe of Israel. Both tribes worshiped Yahweh with only a few differences in their traditions. Over time these two tribes and traditions merged into one people and one faith.
Rabbi David Zaslow who now serves Havurah Shir Hadash, a Jewish Renewal Congregation in Ashland, Oregon, writes this about the Jewishness of Jesus:
It’s easy to utter the words ‘Jesus was Jewish,’ but more difficult for members of either faith to actually imagine this as an historical reality. Many Christians think of the Jewishness of Jesus in the same way they think of the Catholicism of Martin Luther—in other words, he was a Catholic but he broke away from many of the theological doctrines of the church at that time.
Jesus, however, never left Judaism. Along with other great rabbis that Jews study and revere, . . . Jesus was sometimes critical of the often hypocritical and corrupt Temple priesthood led by the Sadducees. But Jesus never left Judaism, even when he was critical of its hypocrisy. He never abandoned the practice of fulfilling the Torah’s commandments.
For the Jews to imagine Rabbi Joshua (Jesus) davvenen (praying) each morning with his talmidim (students) while all are wearing tallit (prayer shawls) and t’fillin (phylacteries) is contrary to two thousand years of Christian art that sought to de-Judaize Jesus and his disciples. 8
Although the title of “Rabbi” was not used until the fourth century, Jesus is called “Rabboni”, which translates as “my teacher,” three times in The Younger Testament. I will use the title, “Rabbi Jesus” in this study in deference to both the life Rabbi Jesus led as a Judean teacher and his later Western Christian identity. We must, however, remember that Rabbi Jesus was not the type of rabbi that we know today. Calling Jesus “Rabbi” is helpful only because it helps us remember the culture and religious traditions that he knew and loved.
Rabbi Jesus preached about and interpreted Torah during the beginning of the reforming of the first century CE Judean religion. With the destruction of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem in 76 CE, temple worship ended and Jewish traditions moved into homes and synagogues. Other well-known religious leaders of this time, such as Hillel, thought and taught in the same vein as Rabbi Jesus.
As the Younger Testament states, Rabbi Jesus probably did not intend to abolish one “stroke of a letter” of the law. (Matt 5:18) He did, however, set his teachings from Torah into new contexts to make them come alive for his contemporary audiences. He created unique, interpretive stories, “midrash,” in other words, which had such a powerful impact on his followers that they were included, over a thousand years later, in the Bible as the Younger Testament alongside the Elder Testament of Torah, Prophets, and Wisdom Literature.
I use the terms “Elder” and “Younger” Testaments to remind us that the more common terms “Old” and “New” Testament are offensive to our Jewish brothers and sisters. The term “old” can carry the connotation of something that is no longer preferable or relevant as opposed to the word “new” that connotes something that is “better” and has replaced that which was “old.” “Old Testament” and “New Testament” perpetuate the understanding that Christianity somehow replaces or is better than Judaism.
1. Merriam, Ninth, 1354.
2. Merriam, Ninth, 530.
3. Pelican, Judaism, xi-xv.
4. Merriam, Ninth, 429.
5. Tickle, Emergence, 137.
6. BBC, “Human Genome”.
7. Encyclopedia Brittanica, “Biblical Criticism”.
8. Zaslow, Roots, 12.