Tuesday, November 24, 2009
What's What with Islam is What's right with America
Abdul Rauf uses the phrase “Abrahamic ethic”. This phrase is a great way to point to the similarities between Jews, Christians, and Muslims and how they can function together in a pluralistic society. Abdul Rauf argues that since all these faiths are based upon Abraham, they all hold the same basic commandments and ethics, thus living under a government that embodies this Abrahamic ethic would not be a hindrance to any one of the Abrahamic faiths, but an environment in which the faiths could grow and prosper while teaching one another. This view of an Abrahamic ethic is a great way of looking at the commonalities of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. It tears down the walls that separate the religions; however, Abdul Rauf touts pluralism while ignoring the ethical basis of other religions. Abdul Rauf praises the pluralism that is inherent to Islam and America, but he does not carry out as far as finding a common basis for all religions that are represented in American and Islamic societies. In fact, the way in which Abdul Rauf addresses non-Abrahamic religions is almost condescending. He treats them as a misguided Islam rather than a tradition with its own basis for ethical codes. Abdul Rauf seems willing to extend the kind arm of pluralism to those faiths that possess the Abrahamic ethic. Even when speaking of the pluralism that exists in Islam for the other two Abrahamic faiths, Abdul Rauf seems to suggest that these religions are incomplete Islam. This view that Abdul Rauf puts forth of Islam as a pluralistic system seems in actuality to be a high tolerance, since he views the other religions through the assumption that Islam is the more perfected form of these religions.
This Abrahamic ethic is a theme that appears again and again within Abdul Rauf’s book. In one particular instance, Abdul Rauf points out that in some areas, Muslim women have enjoyed more liberties and positions of power than their Western counterparts. Women in Muslim countries have struggles that differ from Western women in the details, but the over arching them for women worldwide is the same.
Just as in America roles have changed dramatically, especially in the last one hundred years as America has implemented the Abrahamic ethic to a greater degree, it is reasonable to expect that Muslim societies implementing the justice called for in Islamic theology will undergo parallel transformations. (220)
This statement regarding women’s rights is dubious. It can be argued that the struggle for women, American and/or Muslim, can be supported using the Abrahamic ethic of equality. Women’s rights in America seem to be making the greater advances during a time in American history when more and more people have divorced themselves from claiming this Abrahamic ethic. While it may fit within the Abrahamic ethic to give women freedom, is not because of this Abrahamic ethic that women have enjoyed equality. This Abrahamic ethic may appeal to those Americans who adhere to an Abrahamic faith, but this ideal may be rejected by the secular humanists to whom Abdul Rauf attempts to attach a religion. If Abdul Rauf hopes to make secular Americans comfortable with a religion that has gotten a bad rep, it may be best for him to go about it in a way to not equate his religion with the secular system of a group that find religion to be anathema.
Abdul Rauf praises the fairness and equality that makes America so great among the nations of the world, and part of this fairness and equality is due to the separation of church and state that exist within the American system. America is ruled by a law that is by the people for the people (a point for which Abdul Rauf holds great respect). The fairness of the American court system is that all citizens are held to the same standard and judged by this equal standard. Abdul Rauf praises the separation of church and state since it allows the free practice of religion from many different traditions; however, Abdul Rauf expresses a desire to see the different religions hold court sessions holding to the teachings and laws of that particular tradition. This sentiment is not so much in keeping with the ideals of the American government. It seems that approach my actually cause more confusion in a pluralistic society. What is to be done when a Jew and Muslim have a dispute but the religious traditions handle the dispute in a different way? Judging Americans by different standards according to differing conditions would not maintain the ideal of equality that is strived for in the US court system.
In the chapter “What’s Right With Islam” Abdul Rauf gives an overview of the Islamic faith that paints a sympathetic portrait of one of the most misunderstood religions of the modern world. Abdul Rauf covers the basic tenets, history, and future of the faith within this chapter. Although this chapter may be dull for the reader who is learned in Islam, for the reader who is new to the faith, this chapter provides an excellent overview. The Islam that Abdul Rauf promotes is in close keeping with the ethics and ideals that have been the basis for American government, and Abdul Rauf does not fail to point this out. Abdul Rauf draws the correlations between American ideals and Islamic ideals into a common ground that helps to bridge the gap. A deeper understanding of Islam would certainly make reparations between Americans and Muslims mush easier and more likely. If Americans who know little about the teachings and ideals of Islam were to learn and see that Islam also strives for equality and freedom of choice even under the law, the thought of negotiating or allying with Islamic nations would not be anathema. If Americans grew more sympathetic towards the Muslim population worldwide by educating themselves about this world religion, perhaps some of the disasters in the Middle East that have been caused by careless US foreign policy could be prevented in the future, thus creating relations between the Muslim world and America that are not built upon resentment and mistrust.
In one of the more interesting sections of this book pertains to the need for an American president to directly address the Muslim people and offer a message of hope. This outreach, according to Abdul Rauf, would be an important and laudable first step towards making amends with the Muslim world that has watched a democratic government take many undemocratic actions. Abdul Rauf cites an instance in which President George W. Bush made a visit to Baghdad, but failed to directly address the Muslim world and its needs. Since 2004, Americans have elected a president who has taken these important first steps to repairing the schism between the Middle East and United States. Barack Obama has made appearances on Arab speaking television stations addressing issues pertinent to Muslim viewers. He has also officially declared that America is not at war with Islam, a sentiment felt by Muslims who have fallen victim to the sometime cruel policies of the US government. This first step to a “weapon of peace” has been taking by Obama, bringing to the forefront of the world’s mind that peace between the Middle East and Untied States may be far into the future, but this thousand mile journey has seen its first step.
Abdul Rauf’s overarching thesis that Islam can fit within the democratic ideals of the American government and that Muslim nations can be reconciled with the US if we take a different approach to understanding each other is perfectly sensible and correct. However, many of his methods and appeals to making this happen seem to miss the mark. Making the courts religiously based, assuming all people adhere to this Abrahamic ethic, and not acknowledging secularists as free from religion as they see themselves are points that hurt Abdul Rauf’s thesis. Abdul keenly draws parallels between the egalitarian ideals of America and Islam. This religion shares many ideal with the nation that is often seen as its enemy amongst followers worldwide, a point from which Abdul Rauf draws many of his arguments and hopes for the future of relations between Muslims and the United States. The responsibility for peace between the Muslim world and the United States must be shouldered by everyone. The American non-Muslim must take the time and effort to educate himself or herself about the truth of Islam and not rely upon the sensationalized reports coming from a capitalist media. The American Muslim must help to educate the American non-Muslim about the tenets of the faith that are in line with American ideals, and share with their Muslim brothers and sisters outside the United States the ideals that compose the United States. The non-American Muslim must be open to listen to the truth about the nation that is often seen as the greatest enemy to Islam, and look past the failings of America and look to the ideals of America that are in common with the ideals of their faith.
The Literary Form of Genealogy in The New Testament
The first gospel in the Christian scriptures is the gospel of Matthew which begins its account of the life of Jesus by supplying the reader with the genealogy of Jesus. Before the appearance of angels, before the virgin birth, the author wants the reader to know that Jesus came from good stock. The genealogy begins with Abraham, thus legitimizing Jesus’ place as a Jew and a beneficiary of the covenant. The gospel of Matthew was written to appeal to a Jewish audience; therefore, the author stresses that Jesus comes from a long line of notable Jews: Abraham, Jacob, David, Hezekiah, Josiah and others. This genealogy claims that Jesus is a descendant of David, to whom God made a promise. According to the prophecy of Jeremiah, the messiah was to be a descendant of David (Jer. 23:5). Including David in this genealogy provides Jesus with the ancestry necessary to be argued as the messiah, a point the author of Matthew clearly understood and stressed. After David, the line of Jesus is continued through Solomon and a succession of kings. For a Jewish audience that hoped for the re-establishment of an earthly kingdom under the messiah, the connection of Jesus with the kings of Israel would bring an image of Jesus as a rightful king of their nation (Dummelow 623).
Perhaps one reason for the author placing the genealogy at the very beginning of the gospel is so that the story seems continuous with the Hebrew Scriptures. While reading the genealogy, a reader familiar with the Hebrew Scripture would certainly have recognized some of the names in the long list. As the reader’s eyes moved down the list, the narratives and tales that fill the Hebrew scripture were perhaps recounted in the imagination of the reader: Abraham obediently offering Isaac as sacrifice, Rahab hanging a red cord from her window to be spared by the army of Joshua, Ruth gathering grain for Naomi as Boaz watched in admiration, Jesse consulting with David before his battle with Goliath, and Josiah re-establishing God’s law among his wayward people. The Jewish reader would have certainly been familiar with these tales of God’s personal involvement with his followers, thus making the birth of Jesus seem natural as the next chapter in this long succession. A feature unique to Matthew’s genealogy is the inclusion of women in the lineage (i.e. Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba). The reason for this untraditional occurrence may have been to illustrate that God moved through all types of people, even women and adulterers, to fulfill his ultimate will, thus perhaps paving the way for the inclusion of Gentiles (Lewis 956-57).
The structure of Matthew’s genealogy follows a pattern of fourteens. There are three periods of time that form the structure of Matthew’s genealogy: Abraham to David, David to Babylonian exile, and Babylonian exile to Jesus. Fourteen generations are listed within each of the three time periods. This structure makes for a genealogy that is considerably shorter than Luke’s, but this structure is not due to ignorance or apathy on the behalf of the author. The author once again wanted to emphasize the connection between Jesus and David. The name David in Hebrew is composed of fourteen letters from the Hebrew alphabet, thus making Jesus’ relation to David ageless (Lewis 956). The author of Matthew stressed the Davidic prophecy to his Jewish audience through both lineage and form. Without the fulfillment of this criterion, Jesus would have been a tough sell as Messiah to Jewish listeners.
The genealogy found in Matthew also bears strong resemblance to genealogies found in the Hebrew Scriptures. Pieces of Matthew’s genealogy match closely to a ten generation genealogy found in Ruth that begins with Perez and ends with David. This is notable since the genealogy of Matthew includes Ruth, although the matrilineal genealogy was not of much consequence for the author or his audience. The succession of kings from Solomon to post-exilic Jechoniah is found in the book of 1 Chronicles. This seventeen generation list also matches closely to the one found in Matthew. These strong similarities may suggest that Matthew relied upon the Hebrew Scriptures and traditions when composing his gospel, thus making this a gospel that was meant to appeal to the Jews who would have found value in these lineages found elsewhere in scripture (Lewis 957).
The second genealogy of the New Testament can be found in Luke which differs in many respects to the genealogy in Matthew. Luke’s genealogy reflects his audience just as Matthew’s, but these authors wrote to different audiences. While Matthew was meant to appeal to Jews, the gospel of Luke was intended to be heard by Gentiles who lived in a very different context than their Jewish counterparts. Just as Matthew’s structure, data, and placement enriched the narrative and provided a backdrop for the message, Luke provides a genealogy that paints a different portrait of Jesus’ lineage and purpose.
The placement of Luke seems peculiar since the genealogy is provided in Chapter 3 after Jesus’ baptism, presumably “around” thirty years after Jesus’ miraculous birth. Why would the author slip in a longer list of names than Matthew when Jesus is already a grown man ready to begin his ministry? In Luke God makes a pronouncement after the baptism of Jesus.
…and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:22)
The placement of this passage may spark some debate over the nature of Jesus as the Son of God. The adoptionist view would hold that Jesus was not accepted as Son of God until this time, while the antiadoptionist view would say that Jesus was affirmed at this moment but always the Son of God (Ehrman 155-57). The placement of this passage after the baptism and pronouncement gives rise to questions of theology, but the more simple explanation may lie in the literature. The form of Luke’s genealogy starts with Jesus and works backwards, son-to-father, unlike the father-to-son form followed by Matthew. The reason for this form may seem unclear until the climactic finale of the genealogy.
Luke’s genealogy went far beyond Abraham and traced Jesus back to the very first man, Adam. This was rather ambitious of Luke, although the genealogy of Adam to Abraham is recorded in Genesis. Even more ambitious, the author of Luke placed God into his genealogy! The genealogy in Luke ends with God,”…son of Adam, son of God.”(Luke 3:38b). This is probably why Luke’s genealogy begins with the son rather than the father. To have listed God first would have ruined the surprise. The author of Luke took a boring list of men and created an aura of wonder and suspense by flipping the normal order and building suspense as time became more and more ancient. The inclusion of God in this genealogy suggests that Adam was a son of God. If this genealogy were one long sentence, the word “God” would be the exclamation point at the end. This structuring gives the idea that the establishment of Jesus as son of God has been a long process since the fall of the first man (Allen 41). This connects Jesus with all mankind and not only to the Jews. Because of this, Jesus’ connection to the royal line of king was not so important to the audience of Luke who was a Gentile audience. In Luke’s genealogy Nathan is the descendant of David not Solomon, and through Nathan the line is continued. This created for a very different genealogy than Matthew’s.
Biblical scholars throughout the years have attempted to reconcile the differences found between the two genealogies, but these attempts have largely proved unfruitful. The reasons are simple and do not require an exhaustive argument discussing the lineage of Mary (of which there is no record), or other possibilities of why the accounts don not match (Tannehill 86-87). The genealogies differ because although they shared a subject their authors wrote at different times, from different sources, for different purposes, to different audiences. Forms of literature must differ when shared with differing audiences. The incompatibility of the two genealogies should not present a problem for the reader who is able to view the gospels together. An understanding of the context in which these documents were written provides for plenty of explanation.
The individual genealogies of Jesus may seem dull to the reader, but taking a closer look and deeper consideration of these passages provides the reader with a more complete understanding of the story unfolding before him or her. These passages provide historical context for the narrative of Jesus, weave Jesus into the fabric of the timeless covenants between God and his people, and provide the lens through which the author wished the audience to view Jesus and his ministry. When the genealogies are compared the richness and diversity of the Christian Scriptures comes to life. On one hand, an author wished to appeal to the Jews of the time, hence the connection to Abraham and the succession of kings after David. On the other, an author wished to appeal to the Gentiles who were not concerned with the legitimacy of Jesus’ connection to the covenant, hence the emphasis on Jesus’ relation to Adam and ultimately God. The inconsistencies within these passages should not be viewed as problems to be dealt with by creating convoluted theories, but should be seen as indicators that the people, scriptures, and views in the early church were varied. This recognition of variation causes the need to study the scriptures and traditions more closely to gain an understanding of what Jesus meant to the early Christians.
Bilbiography
Ehrman, Bart D. Misquoting Jesus: The Story Beind Who Changed the Bible and Why. San Francisco: Harper Collins. 2005.
The Holy Bible. New Revised Standard Version. New York: Oxford Universoty Press, 1989.
Eiselen, Frederick Carl et. al., eds The Abingdon Bible Commentary. Nashville: Abingdon, 1929.
Tannehill, Robert C. ed. Abingdon New Testament Commentaries: Luke. Nashville: Abingdon, 1996.
Allen, Clifton J. ed. the Broadman Bible Commentary. Nashville: Broadman Press, 1970.
Dummelow, JR. ed. A Commentary on the Holy Bible by Various Writers. London: MacMillan. 1970.
The Passion of Mark
Jesus triumphantly enters Jerusalem upon a colt as crowds press in upon him from all quarters shouting “Hosanna!’ and “Son of David”. It was Passover season, the Jewish celebration that commemorated the exodus of the Hebrew slaves from the oppression of Egypt. This longing for freedom was no strange theme to the Jews of Palestine during this time. No doubt that the symbolic meaning of this festival began to take on real tones as news spread across Palestine of Jesus, the man who drew crowds, taught with authority, and in whom many had hope for a messiah. Perhaps the crowds that surrounded Jesus as he entered Jerusalem hoped that this Passover was the moment when the messiah would rise up and reclaim the kingdom of Israel. The expectations of the crowds are evident in the cries that reflect messianic hopes, but Jesus, before arriving in Jerusalem, had already predicted his own demise. When Jesus arrives his first action is to go to the temple and take a look around. Then, he went back to Bethany. No overthrow. No judgment. This is a rather anticlimactic day in relation to his entry. In Luke, Jesus rebukes the Pharisees, tells a parable, and commences to clean the temple, but in Mark, Jesus simply looks around and leaves. The next morning Jesus is returning from Bethany when he curses a fig tree that is not bearing fruit even though it’s not the season for figs.
Jesus enters the Temple and undertakes actions that may have led to his arrest and execution. Having seen the Temple his first day in Jerusalem, Jesus must have seen the money changers and merchants, so his actions that second day in Jerusalem were premeditated. In Matthew, Jesus performs miracles and healings following the cleansing of the Temple, and in John, Jesus makes a prediction about his resurrection. In Mark, Jesus cleanses the temple, but no further action is described. By cleansing the temple, Jesus provided the chief priests with a charged that could bring him before the Sanhedrin. It was this moment that the chief priests and scribes began to seek the suffering and death of Jesus. Mark’s technique of intercalation brings this passage to a close by returning to that cursed, barren fig tree. When the disciples pass the tree the following morning, they are astounded to find the tree has withered to the root. It seemed a little harsh of Jesus to expect to find figs on this poor tree when no figs were out of season. The fig tree reflects Israel. The people of Israel were waiting for a particular figure to arrive with obvious signs and grandeur. When they saw the messiah coming, then they would behave as if the messiah were coming. Jesus did not fit what was expected of the coming messiah, so the chief priests plotted against him. They failed to bear spiritual fruit when it really mattered. Since they did not anticipate Jesus being the messiah and the spiritual harvest was not nigh, it didn’t seem to be the season for spiritual fruit.
.After Jesus had spent the day teaching the people and rebuking the officials, in the house of Simon the leper a woman approached Jesus with a very costly flask of perfumed ointment. The woman anointed Jesus’ body with the ointment at the behest of the disciples. Some in the house felt that the ointment could have been put to better use by selling the perfume for a hefty amount and given to the poor. Jesus responded to the grumblers by supporting the woman and explaining that she had anointed his body for his burial. The anointing of Jesus has an ironic twist. The king of Israel was anointed, but also, the dead were anointed before burial. Had Jesus affirmed that the anointment had been for his kingship, perhaps attitudes would have been different. Instead, Jesus affirms that he is to die soon. This assertion that the woman’s actions had been honorable was not welcome news. Jesus informed the disciples that the poor would always be among them, but he would not. This idea does not coincide with the political revolution that is to take place with the Messiah. This seems to have been the action that triggered the betrayal that would ultimately hand Jesus over to the officials who sought his death. The other gospels attempt to make Judas Iscariot greedy, evil, or a double crossing thief, but Mark portrays Judas in a more sympathetic light. Judas must have been sorely disappointed by the turn he thought Jesus had took. Judas had hoped for a revolutionary figure in Jesus. Instead he got a man who was determined that he would suffer and die before any revolution came. It’s likely that Judas felt that he had been betrayed. Judas then approached the officials offering them Jesus. They then in turn offered him money. Matthew specifies that he amount paid for Jesus’ betrayal was thirty pieces of silver, and Luke claims that Judas was overcome with the devil. In John, Judas is angered by the anointment purely because of the money. John claims that Judas stole from the common purse. Mark’s portrayal of Judas depicts a visionary who lost his vision.
The audience for this gospel was most likely of the same background as the author since printing and distribution were no easy task in those days. By this criterion it can be deduced that the readers or listeners to the Gospel of Mark were Greek speaking Christians living outside of the region of Palestine, the region where the events of the narrative took place. The particulars about the geography and customs of Palestine were not of the utmost importance to Mark’s audience. The experiences of the audience are the experiences of the author, so the events and circumstances that were prominent in the life of the author will naturally appear in the text and appeal to the reader’s to whom the work is readily available. By this logic and knowledge of history it can be concluded that the readers of Mark were a persecuted community who underwent a great deal of suffering for following The Way. This atmosphere of persecution and suffering can explain the emphasis that the author of Mark places upon suffering in his gospel. Suffering is a major theme that appears in the teachings, predictions, and life of Jesus. Writing of a figure who enjoyed much privilege and pleasure as he went about Palestine teaching and proclaiming the apocalypse would not have appealed to those who suffered for following those teachings. The theme of suffering found in Mark certainly was familiar to the community who was persecuted for their beliefs. Had the community lived under different circumstances, therefore allowing the author to live under different circumstances, the Gospel of Mark would have contained very different themes or perhaps may not have came to existence at all. The Gospel of Mark can be seen as a message of hope to those who suffered, and to those who showed weakness during the trying times.
The disciples in Mark never seem to understand the man that they follow. Their reasons for following Jesus do not reflect the reason for Jesus’ leadership. This lack of understanding is what leads to the scattering of the disciples when Jesus is captured and their absence at his greatest hour of need. This ignorance coupled with fear is what led Peter to deny Jesus just as Jesus predicted. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus makes a prediction that Peter will deny him three times before the cock crows, a prediction that Peter strongly opposes, but when Jesus faces the Sanhedrin and execution, in fear for his own life Peter denies Jesus. This denial of Jesus in the face of pain and suffering shows the weakness not just of Peter, but of the humans in general. When Peter was faced with a hostile crowd, self preservation became more important than remaining faithful to Jesus and his teaching. Despite this denial and failure Peter still rose to be a great figure in Christianity. The tradition of Peter’s denial that can be found in Mark offers hope to those believers who were undoubtedly faced with fierce or even violent opposition. Denying Jesus did not ruin Peter’s future, and this fact would be evident to the followers who knew the great prominence to which Peter later would rise. This story of denial offered hope to the followers who faced persecution and denied their faith for the sake of self preservation. Jesus himself knew that Peter would do this, but did not rebuke Peter harshly. The Markan Jesus seemed to understand the frailty of man all too well. Jesus expected all his disciples to desert him. The follower who denies Jesus is also given the same hope, thus making the denial of Jesus a story of hope.
In the Gospel of Mark Jesus’ understanding of what it means to fulfill his messianic destiny requires that Jesus must suffer and die. This suffering was not easy for Jesus as can be seen in the prayer in Gethsemane and the crucifixion on Golgotha. While in Gethsemane, Jesus prays with great fervor and asks that the tasks before him might be avoided if there is any other way, but Jesus, seeing his ultimate destiny, accepts the terrible fate that awaits him. When Jesus faces trial before the Sanhedrin, he does not refute the faulty witness accounts or attempt to defend himself. This image of a silent, apparently broken Jesus was not the Messiah that had been anticipated. Why would the Messiah allow the political order to slander him and prosecute him? It is here that the supportive crowds seem to falter and turn on Jesus. This man was clearly not the Messiah they had thought he was. Having been abandoned by his disciples and followers, Jesus was taken before Pilate where once again he was mostly silent in the face of condemnation. When Pilate offered the crowd to deliver either Jesus or Barabbas, they chose the murderer Barabbas. It is interesting that the crime that Barabbas had committed was murder during an insurrection. Perhaps after seeing the meek character of Jesus, the crowd preferred the violent tactics of zealots like Barabbas. This man who once hoped to be the King of the Jews was now mocked as such. He was flogged and beaten, given royal symbols in jest, and finally hung upon a cross with the inscription “King of Jews” above his bloody head. After six hours on the cross, Jesus cries out “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Jesus, the Messiah, dies alone and humiliated on the cross.
This ending of Jesus’ life differs from depictions found in the other gospels. In Matthew, Jesus’ death is simultaneous with cosmic events. In Luke, Jesus ministers to the thief beside him and gives his spirit up to God. In John, Jesus doles out final instructions and declares it finished. In Mark, Jesus dies alone and forsaken. After his death Jesus is buried in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. The man who was once hoped to bring about the revolution to establish once again the kingdom of Israel had been killed and buried. Three days later women who had witnessed Jesus’s death and burial returned to the tomb to find it empty. There were no earthquakes, angels, or appearances of a resurrected Jesus as is found in the other Gospels. The women then fled the tomb and told no one. The fact that the resurrected Jesus is never seen in this shorter version of Mark raises interesting points.
Belief in the resurrection for Mark’s audience was assumed. The audience already had their conclusion, so what they needed was encouragement to endure the suffering and persecution and continue waiting for the second coming predicted in Mark. The Gospel of Mark was not intended as a proselytizing document, but a document meant to help believers keep the faith. The identity of Jesus as Son of God is not understood by the characters in the gospel, those who continued the tradition. This proclamation of Jesus’ identity is uttered by a Roman soldier; however, the tradition is carried on by those who fled and denied Jesus. The realization of Jesus’ true identity must have come after his death, thus the resurrection. The readers of Mark already knew the conclusion of the story they read. They already believed it. The suffering and death of the messiah only makes sense with a resurrection. The resurrection was the key to belief for Mark’s audience. The life of Jesus was not a compelling argument for a messianic identity, a point that is driven by Mark, so the resurrection trumps the humble life and death of Jesus. The audience of Mark’s gospel was so compelled by the belief in the resurrection that they were willing to endure persecution and suffering
Sufism: An Account of the Mystics of Islam
When the book opens, the writing style employed by Arberry is captivating and concise. The sentences flow into paragraphs composing pages so fluid and readable the reader may be unaware that he or she is turning pages. Arberry manages to eloquently condense complex ideas, extensive histories, and provocative biographies while not seeming rushed or too dense. The reader is not burdened with pages of filler that escape the memory as he or she trudges through another ill-written paragraph, but rather, Arberry’s writing excites the reader and invites the reader to explore the topic found within the pages. When picking up a book with a matter-of-fact title which addresses the complexities of the mysticism of the world’s second largest religion, the reader can often dread the task at hand especially when the intricacies of the topic are handled in less than 200 pages, but the writing of Arberry is brilliantly written as to not intimidate the casual reader or bore the scholarly reader. The writing found within this book develops ideas with speed and precision, ideas that took centuries to mold, but thanks to the ingenuity of Arberry, do not take too long to comprehend. In the beginning of the book, the writing style of Arberry has a mood of anticipation as if the reader is in for a climactic surprise, but in some parts of the book, this mood of anticipation and excitement gets lost somewhere among the factual style that can often take over and steal from Arberry’s talent as a writer. While the frequent and frequently long quotations used by Arberry are informative and relevant, they can often distract or weaken Arberry’s skillful writing. Arberry’s inspiring voice becomes lost among the fragmented paragraphs among the many lengthy quotations. Although the text may slow down and even drag at times, the overall effect of Arberry’s writing creates an exciting story that tells the stories and ideas of this movement and the thoughts and lives of the men and women who developed this practice.
The amount of information found within this book is extensive but not overwhelming. In less than 200 pages Arberry is able to discuss the founders, origins, developments, theories, theosophies, and future of Sufism. After completing this book the reader has been exposed to a remarkable amount of information regarding this tradition that so many people know so little about. Arberry obviously has a vast knowledge of Sufism and a great handle for how to preset that information in a clear and concise manner. This book contains centuries of history, biography, and philosophy, but the book itself is rather small regarding the enormous amount of information contained within. The reader must be careful to attentively read, because Arberry is able to compact a plethora of knowledge into a small, smartly written paragraph. Arberry seems to have a finesse for discerning what data is relevant to his reader and what data is simply distracting from the topic. Arberry wastes no paper with his cunning writing. In comparison to other volumes regarding this topic, Arberry’s book is rather short; however, the brevity of his work does not suggest that the reader is less informed. Arberry is able to present a copious amount of data to the reader while sparing the cumbersome details. This style creates for a book that is highly informative and hardly a burden.
Often when quoting the Qur’an or quoting the sayings or writings of the mystics, Arberry uses passages and phrase that can find close parallels to Christian scriptures and traditions.
The Prophet said, “If ye trusted in God as ye should, he would sustain you even as he sustains the birds, which in the morning go forth hungry, and return in the evening filled.”(27)
This saying of the Prophet may appear very familiar to the reader who is Christian or familiar with the Christian scriptures. A similar saying is traditionally held to come from Jesus is found in both Matthew and Luke.
Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows. (Luke 12:5-6, KJV)
This imagery found in both sayings shows that God cares even for the birds, therefore followers of God should not worry about what they are to eat or who will take care of them. Often Arberry will relate the development of a Sufi idea to a comparable development found in Christianity. Arberry has not written a comparative book, but his use of these commons themes serves a purpose. By relating Sufism to mystic Christianity, Arberry is creating a backdrop for which readers who may not be exposed to Islam may find a point of reference. Also, for the reader that has had been negatively exposed to Islam, these parallels help the reader gain empathy for Islam and open the mind of the reader as he learns about the development and practice of Sufism. Rather than see the practice as strange and totally foreign, the reader is able to relate and better understand Sufism. This technique is subtle and perhaps not even intentional on the part of Arberry, but it does provide familiarity for the reader who may be unfamiliar with the Sufi tradition or the broader tradition of Islam.
In his chapter entitled “Decay of Sufism, Arberry postulates that Sufism has declined since the fifteenth century and will continue to decline in the 20th century. Arberry paints a bleak picture for the future of Sufism facing the technological advances of the 20th century and the thirst for rationalism that seemed to dominate in the realm of religion. When facing the questions of the more educated and scientific generations of the 20th century, the esoteric approach to religion would fade a more people prefer reason over faith. Perhaps in the context of his time this assumption was a very intelligent guess, but current trends do not always determine future trends. The later 20th century and early 21st century has seen a revival in Sufism. According to an article in Boston Globe, “Sufi Rising” which was released in January of 2009, there has been a substantial increase in the amount of Muslims who identify themselves as Sufi. According to the article, in 1979 Iran was home to 100,000 Sufis, but in 2009, there are approximately 5 million Sufis. Sufi revivals have also been seen in Africa and Indonesia. The fundamentalism that developed in the 20th century may be a direct cause for this revival. As globalization brings more faiths and ideas together for dialogue and interaction, followers of once rigid faiths may now explore options that are less rigid and more mystical. Science and technology have brought many comforts to lives around the globe. Materialism and greed are now executed on a global scale that can potentially affect people all over the map. In this age of excess and consumerism, some may be inspired by the ascetic lifestyles of the Sufis who founded the tradition. Owning stuff and acquiring wealth does not answer the questions regarding the divine, so many people seek out more mystical approaches to their faiths that encourage asceticism and are more flexible towards the faiths traditions of others. The Sufi tradition of love, peace, and reconciliation speak to generations who have been affected by the extremist views and actions of violent jihadists. Market values are no values at all, and absolutism breeds fear and hate. The desire for a renewed morality and a peaceful existence between differing faiths may be what leads some to the mystical practices of Sufism. Arberry may have missed the mark with his prediction of the future of Sufism, but this does not subtract from his insightfulness for trends in his time that had been developing for centuries.
Arberry has written a book that informs with a clear, sharp, and empathetic voice. The knowledge gained by reading this book will answer many questions the reader may have had regarding Sufism. Arberry deftly handles the topics of the Qur’an, the Prophet, and the practices of Sufism. With factual but artful writing Arberry paints a picture of Sufism that easy to understand and empathize. Arberry takes what may be a foreign tradition and creates a tradition that is comprehensible and relatable. The brilliant writing of Arberry creates a book that is a delight to read as the words are eloquently presented to best approach the topic. Arberry’s talent as a writer shines through in this work, but not only because of his technical prowess. Arberry presents a mass of information that could potentially fill volumes regarding the beliefs, practices, and future of Sufism, but with his knack for sharp writing, Arberry is able to provide much information while not overwhelming the reader. Arberry is also able to present Sufism in such a way that even the most unfamiliar of readers can find aspects of the tradition that are paralleled in other traditions. Arberry was a clever writer who aptly presented Sufism to audiences that will walk away with a deeper understanding of the mystic tradition of the world’s second largest religion.
The New Testament Canon
Works that stayed within the traditional teachings of the church were obvious candidates for canonization. If a work strayed from the teachings that were held by the majority of apostles, church fathers, and body of believers, it did not have a place alongside the works that had been determined as orthodox. The glaring differences between heterodox and orthodox would undermine the authority of the canon and call into question the divinely inspired nature of not just the heterodox work but all other works found in the canon. It seems simple that only orthodox documents would be accepted into the canon, but the criteria for what is orthodox are hardly simple. What constituted a certain belief as orthodox? Apostolic authority is one measure for determining the orthodoxy of the work. The opinions of prominent church fathers also serves as a measure for the orthodoxy of a work.
This criterion for canonization seems to be one that is secondary to other criteria. There are works within the canon that have no claim to authorship even within the text itself, but still were able to rise above works that did claim apostolic authorship. The Proto-Gospel of James which was claimed to be written by James the Just, step-brother of Jesus, was rejected for canonization, but the book of Hebrews whose authorship is highly dubious was recognized in the earlier canons and ultimately accepted to this day. Apostolicity does not denote that a work is written directly by an apostle but a contemporary of the apostle or it may simply be that the work reflects the teachings that are typical to the apostolic period. Apostolicity is not a criterion that makes or breaks a document to be canonized, but if a work is traditionally believed to be written by an apostle or follower of an apostle, it certainly gains clout.
The criterion of catholicity seems to be problematic for many of the epistles that have been accepted into the New Testament. For canonization into the canon that is to be used by the universal church, a work must address the church as whole and not specific communities. The ideal focus of a canonized work should transcend region, language, and special circumstance; however, this ideal is not always met. As evident in the Pauline epistles, Paul addressed churches for specific instances that may be causing strife within that specific community. The epistle of Timothy contains personal advice for a young pastor not necessarily advice to be taken by the universal church. Clearly catholicity is not a criterion that ultimately determines the fate of a document, but much like apostolicity, it is an attribute that adds effectiveness to the document making an easier induction into the canon. Closely tied to this concept is the criterion of traditional usage. If the church found a certain work to be catholic, it tended to gain a wide audience resulting in the multiplication of the document and references made in other documents.
If a work met all of a few of these criteria to the satisfaction of the church, it was believed to be inspired. This attribute is not measurable like the date of a document, the name of an author, or the number of manuscripts found. Inspiration is more inferred rather than discovered. By meeting the other criteria the inspiration of a document was easy to accept as inspired. This criteria seems weak to be used since it the result of the other criteria mentioned.
By canonizing a work, the problematic attributes that face a document seem to be cleared. For example, a document that has no determined author is accepted to be just as authoritative as a document strongly believed to be written directly by the apostle Paul. It cannot be ignored that certain works had much more trouble making it into the canon than other documents that virtually granted a spot in the canon. Is a hotly disputed work like Revelations to be just as regarded as the Gospel of Luke? For centuries the church has created dogma assuming the authority of the scriptures found in the canon, but these documents at one time may have been rejected by early church fathers or seen as dubious for admission into the canon. When theological differences arise within the canon, the church must offer an explanation of the occurrence since all canonized works are authoritative and divinely inspired.
The 20th century was an exciting period for biblical studies. During this century documents such as The Dead Sea Scrolls, The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, and the Gospel of Judas have been discovered, studied, and considered by the church and scholars. If the canon has been closed, what is to be done with these works, especially if these works fit the criteria that other works met or barely met for their own canonization? Actual events in the early past have caused much deliberation over scripture and the seemingly untouchable canon, but what about the hypothetical? It is well known that Paul authored numerous letters that are not included with the canonized epistles of Paul that are found in the current New Testament canon. The reason for the exclusion of these letters is not due to heterodox or questions of inspiration. The reason is simply that these documents have not been discovered. Their existence is evidenced by references to these letters in the Pauline epistles that have been discovered. If these letters were to be discovered like The Dead Sea Scrolls or Gospel of Judas, would the church throw them out as authoritative scripture and deny them acceptance into the canon? Some of Paul’s work barely meets the criteria that have determined canonicity in the past, so if new works by Paul were discovered that were more catholic or somehow more inspired would these works be excluded?
Discovering previously undiscovered works by Paul would certainly be an exciting event for biblical scholarship and the church. It would be a challenging ordeal for proponents of a strictly guarded canon. It’s hard to imagine a writer who would cause a bigger stir that Paul, but not too hard. What if locked away in a dusty old library in Jerusalem or hidden away in a clay jar deep in a desert cave of the Palestinian wilderness was a document penned by the most prominent teacher in Christianity: Jesus? Such a thrilling discovery would certainly whip the world of biblical scholarship into a frenzy of enthusiasm and excitement. If the canon has been closed and strictly protected, would the writing of Jesus be regarded as apocryphal? If authorship of a document were undeniably Jesus, the canon must be reconsidered. Denying the canon work by the very figure the canon is centered on would be ludicrous. While this situation is strictly hypothetical it brings to light the problem with closing the canon and defending the final draft regardless of the knowledge gained by biblical scholarship. By closing the canon newly discovered documents, regardless of authorship or orthodoxy, are denied canonical status and therefore do not enjoy the authoritative status of the canonized scriptures. The possibility of the future for new works is shut off.
The status of the canonized works is equal when placed in the canon. If the canon itself is highly authoritative then so are the works found within it. The Gospel of Matthew holds just as much authority as the Gospel of Luke. The Acts of the Apostles is on the same authoritative level as Revelations. When disputes rise within the church, often proof-texting is the preferred method by which to fix the problem. Here comes the issue. What happens when two theological contradictions can both be defended by using the same canon? The Catholics defended infant baptism by scripture while the Anabaptists declared the practice as wrong by using scripture. Some defend absolute abstinence from alcohol by the teaching of Paul while others defend the moderate use of alcohol by the teaching of Paul. These positions are developed from and defended by the same scriptures. If these works had not been canonized, but left as separate works, how would that affect the use of scripture? By throwing out canonicity but still using criteria to determine the authority of certain scriptures, certain disputes between sects could possibly face some resolve. If a document perfectly met the criteria of apostolicity, orthodoxy, catholicity, and traditional use then it could be easily argued that the teachings found within that document should be regarded as more authoritative than a work that barely passed apostolicity, had no catholicity, and limited traditional use.
The canon raises many issues for Christianity. Already the canon has suffered major blows throughout the history of the church. For example, before the Protestant Reformation, the canon was the accepted scriptures of the Roman Catholic Church. The Roman Catholic Church used the community’s interpretation of scripture to validate and justify the orthodoxy and orthopraxy of the church. There was no one to challenge the canon or the level of authority found within the collection. Then came Martin Luther who began to take a different approach to the canon. The Protestant Reformation eventually led to the idea of sola scriptura, the idea that authority only lies in the scriptures. Every sect of Christianity after this first major split has defended their particular interpretation of the faith by using the authority of scripture, albeit from different documents and verses.
The need for the canon rose out of the many varying forms of Christianity that were developing throughout the Roman Empire. Gamble downplays the importance that Gnosticism, Docetism, or Arianism had on the early church, but these movements did pose threats to the church that is now recognized as orthodox. The canonization of certain works set clear guidelines for right belief and right practice among a sea of varying beliefs and practices. The canon formed a uniform religion that read the same scriptures and came to the same conclusion according to the community’s interpretation. This unity lasted for many years until the Protestant Reformation which lead to even further diversity within Christianity. The diversity of beliefs and sects within Christianity seem to make the canon obsolete. Regardless of the canonization the Christian faith still grew into a complex web of various groups and systems. The beliefs of certain groups are indications that the equal authority of canonized scriptures is waning. This is evidenced by the many movements that exist today, showing that once Christians began looking at canonized scripture as the ultimate authority, they came to differing interpretations. In order for these various interpretations to stand firm, the interpreter must rely on the teaching of a certain work more than the work that may contradict the interpretation. If a passage contradicts a more favored passage, the less favored passage is reinterpreted in light of the interpretation of the favored passage. This attempt to make the passages agree shows a preference and acknowledgement of greater authority.
As Christianity continues to divide and vary, the use of a canon that makes all selected scriptures equal seems to be obsolete. Although Christians may not acknowledge the recognition of some texts within the canon as more authoritative than others, it certainly shows in the many differing exegetical approaches. The criteria of orthodoxy, apostolicity, catholicity, and traditional use are good criteria for determining the validity and authority of the scriptures for Christianity, but these criteria are not without their own problems and limitations. Since inspiration is immeasurable it is often assumed that meeting all four of the previous criteria is satisfactory to suggest that a work is inspired. The canon served as a rallying document within the early church that battled many fringe groups, but eventually became the “orthodox” approach to Christianity. As Christianity changed following the Reformation, the authority of the canon as both collective and its individual components raised new challenges to the canon. These challenges have resulted in the many different groups that exist today within Christianity. The canon seems to have become an obstacle to get around rather than a unifying document. The canon is still revered in belief, but this reverence does not seem to be evident on practice. The canon has grown increasingly obsolete in modern Christianity. The current canon should not be a closed book (no pun intended), but should be open to the possibility of new discoveries that may occur in the future.
Religious Autobiography
The Father
The next Sunday my mother took my brother and me to Harrah Friendly Free Will Baptist Church. After overcoming the initial shock of my mother’s departure to “Big Church”, I enjoyed myself. I ate a cookie, made a craft, drank some Kool-Aid, and before I knew it my mother had returned. My brother chatted excitedly on the way home about all the things he had learned.
We returned the next week and the weeks after that. Eventually my father began to attend church as well. My parents were well-liked by the members of the church, and soon church wasn’t just a Sunday ritual. We were there on Wednesdays for bible study, Fridays for volleyball league, Saturdays for softball league, and Sunday evenings for choir practice, more bible study, and the occasional baby or wedding shower. My father used the old church goers cliché,”…everytime the doors are open.”
My father was devout. He carried a New Testament in his back pocket. He taught the pre-teen “Big Church” alternative. He and my mother were known for their elaborate vacation bible school lessons. He was in it to win it. He was running the race. He was fighting the good fight (a metaphor he particularly adored because of his own boxing career). My father seemed obsessed with another metaphor. My father was fixated on the “thorn” in Paul’s side. My father would ponder aloud this mysterious hindrance of his biblical hero. While my father took long morning prayer walks, I had a thorn of my own festering inside me. At an early age it was easy to ignore, but as I grew older I became increasingly aware of its presence.
When I was a teenager, the church’s deacons informed my father that he was one of two men being considered for the position of deacon. My brother and I were apprehensive, for we knew that being a deacon’s kid would put us under constant scrutiny of the watchful eyes of the congregation. My father was honored to even be considered for the position, but I sensed that my father was holding back his true feelings. However, my mother was ecstatic. My father was reluctant to accept the position. It was as if every time my mother mentioned his possible deaconship I could see my father pick at his inflamed, metaphorical thorn. In the end due to a possibly unethical plot carried out by the church secretary who happened to be very close to my mother, my father became a deacon.
The next communion service was monumental for my father. He was now one of the men charged with the duty of passing out petite, bland pieces of the Christ and plastic cups filled with a sip of the mouth puckering blood of the Son of God. I usually giggled during this solemn service from the sight and sound of everyone chewing and smacking in unison, but I didn’t that service. I was too focused on my father. His expression was not solemn; it was forlorn.
My mother’s pride became despair when she realized that the office of deacon was not only prestigious but also taxing and time consuming. Tensions rose within the house and soon my father resigned. Shortly after his resignation, my father removed the thorn from his side. He divorced my mother. His long morning walks had consisted of pleas to God to release him from the burden of his 21-year marriage. His guilt over this and his adultery drove him out of our church and out of our home. The religion that was once his glue now tears him apart.
I took it well. I hardly skipped a beat. My grades remained high, and my mood remained stable. My faith in God did not waver. I had bigger fish to fry. I was going to hell.
It came time for me to choose a college. After hours of prayer and meditation, I decided that God wanted me to attend Hillsdale Free Will Baptist College. I felt that if I pursued God at Hillsdale we would heal me of my condition. I expected to learn and grow at Hillsdale but never in the way I did. My fundamentalist upbringing was shattered the first day of class when I realized there were two creation accounts in Genesis. This piece of information was fascinating to me, but none of my classmates wanted to engage in discourse. They acted disinterested or threatened. It was ironic to learn that a literal 6-day creation was not biblical in an institution whose faith statement includes a clause stating that Hillsdale, as an institution, believes in the doctrine. I began to realize that humans and their institutions believe what they want to believe. To reconsider beliefs could potentially chip away at a long-held worldview. That’s when things began to change for me.
Giving Up the Holy Ghost
A few weeks ago, I was having dinner with a former professor from Hillsdale. He posed the question of why I felt the need to no longer practice Christianity while I studied other possibilities. It’s hard to start a journey if you never leave home. He encouraged me to return to “the fold”. Were sheep created for the shepherd? At one point in time sheep existed independent of the shepherd and his dogs. The grass is greener on the other side of the fence, but the shepherds constructed the fence. I’ve come to beware the sheep in shepherd’s clothing.
Before writing my religious auto-biography I had never realized how much of an impact my father had on my personal religion. Only in the past year have I even come to realize how much of an impact my parents’ divorce had on all aspects of my life. I’m left questioning if perhaps some of my discontent with Christianity lies within the patriarchal tradition. Could I be resenting God the Father because of the perceived failings of my own father? If so, could patriarchal tradition attract others due to broken relationships with their fathers? If God had been presented to me as a maternal figure would my journey have ended any differently?
When I tell my story most people can’t get past what role my sexuality must have played. I assure everyone who asks this that the two are not inseparable and that my sexuality really had no bearing on my final decision, but I do often ask myself the same question. Am I perhaps repressing the truth of how my sexuality has affected my religious journey? How much does my sexuality affect how I view the world? This question may be impossible to answer. How can that even be gauged if I’ve never known different? Can I look past the embitterment that has been caused by religious communities who seek to harm or hold back homosexuals?
Attending a small, slightly fundamental Christian college definitely affected my religious journey, but how much should I allow it to affect it? Is my questioning of religion valid or am I inspired by a personal resentment towards the institution that failed me? Had I gone to a more liberal Christian college or a secular university would my story have a different ending? Had I spoken out while at Hillsdale what could have changed? Would I have been happier? Would professors have offered answers to my questions?
I use the term journey often when speaking of my religious experience, so where is my journey taking me? Have I given up on religion for good or is this just a temporary wandering? I do feel that I could possibly return to a Christian church one day, but I know that things will never be as they once were. I’ve made my feelings about organized religion clear, but what about my personal theology. What I do I think of the possibility of God? Do I think He is non-existent? Does She seek to have a personal relationship with me? Can I come to know Them without adhering to an established religion with an organized code, creed, and cult? Am I a sojourner or a drifter? Am I a prodigal or an apostate? I do not know the answers to these questions.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Paul
Within Biblical Studies the term kyrios has caused much discussion and disagreement among Biblical scholars. This term has historically portrayed many different meanings and titles. When kyrios appears in the New Testament it has been translated as “Lord”, but in modern English, “Lord” has come to have a very divine connotation. Perhaps for the modern English speaker a better equivalent for kyrios would be “sir”. “Sir” is meant as a title of honor and respect, and so kyrios was for the Greek. Within the biblical texts, the term kyrios has been translated to mean several things. Specifically in the Synoptic Gospels, the term “lord” does not hold a divine status. Within these texts, the title of “lord” refers to a teacher or leader. Several times, Jesus is addressed as “Lord” but never in such a way as to declare divinity. Even the gospel of John with its high Christology does not equate the address of “Lord” to denote divinity. This term, used to refer to Jesus most often in John, was used as a title of respect since Jesus is often addressed as “lord” by strangers and others who did not recognize or accept him as divine. In the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, kyrios is used as the term to denote YHWH. The literal translation of the word does not mean God, but since the Hebrew Scriptures are careful with how and how often they use the name of God, kyrios is one of these substitutions that clearly refer to God without making the mistake of uttering his holy name. Even for the Hebrew Scripture kyrios was a substitution for the name of God, not a title reserved for God himself. It should not be automatically assumed when one sees kyrios that one is seeing a title exclusive to God.
In light of this information, Wright argues that while Paul would have known about the nuances of the term kyrios, Paul knew exactly what he meant when he referred to Messiah as “Lord”. For Wright, since Paul used the Septuagint as his source material for quotations of scripture, it should be assumed that Paul had a divine understanding of the term kyrios. When Paul used Hebrew scripture that used kyrios, Paul understood that to be a direct address to God; therefore, to connect Messiah to this term was to equate Messiah to God. If Wright is correct with this interpretation of Paul’s usage of kyrios, then Paul’s “redefinition” of Judaic monotheism was controversial indeed. Although some may see Paul’s high Christology as challenging to the idea of monotheism, Wright maintains that Paul was not challenging monotheism at all. Paul was adhering to strict monotheism while placing Messiah and Spirit into that framework.
This understanding of kyrios has caused Paul to see Messiah as the embodiment of God. No longer did God choose to work through humans like Abraham, Moses, and Elijah. The time had come within his covenantal plan for God to get directly involved. Wright believes that Paul saw the death and resurrection of Jesus as the death and resurrection of God himself. The Messiah becoming in “the likeness of sinful-flesh” and being a “sin offering” for the people of the world depicts a God of love, a shift from a harsh God of law and punishment. The Torah was meant to show the chosen people of God that even though they were special among men, even they could not live up to God’s standards. In order for man to be justified with God, it took the faithfulness of the Messiah to fulfill the covenant, not the actions of men. The fulfilling of this covenant occurred with the death and resurrection of the Messiah. This was the apocalypse so often referred to by Paul. The imminent second coming was the resolution to the climax that had already occurred. The God of Jewish monotheism was a creator God and a covenantal God, attributes that never escaped Paul. The creation of God was corrupted by evil (i.e. sin and death), and a plan had to be put in action in order to redeem the fallen creation into a new creation, and this plan was the covenant. First there was the Torah which served as a means of illustrating the imperfection of man and his unequivocal status to the righteousness of God. When it became sufficiently clear that God’s elect could not keep the righteousness of God, God sent the Messiah, the fulfillment of the Torah, to die and resurrect. By keeping with righteousness while in the flesh, as only God can do, the Messiah defeated the power of sin. By resurrecting after his execution, the Messiah had conquered the power of death. The defeat of these two forces that had corrupted God’s good creation was the climactic event of God’s covenant; therefore, the parousia was the resolution and declaration of the new creation. The covenant at this point, since it perfected creation, was meant for all creation not just the Jews. The faithfulness of the Messiah to fulfill the covenant justified all people regardless of ethnic identity, and anyone can now take part in the covenant. This universal covenant offers justification beyond the Jews and on into the Gentile nations. Since the Torah had been fulfilled, there was no need for these new members of the covenant to adhere to the rules of the Torah. The point of the Torah had been made.
God becoming incarnate and dying on the cross as a sin offering is essential to Wright’s portrayal of Paul’s theology. Wright, on page 96, stresses the importance of the cross within Paul’s theology that is often overlooked or taken for granted. The fundamental problem between God and humanity is that humanity is unable to live up to the holy and righteous standards that have been set forth by God: Torah. The death of God upon the cross solves this problem for Paul. Since man was unable to fix his own wrongs, God had to become incarnate so that He in His righteousness could make the ultimate sacrifice in a grandiose show of love for all his creation, The problem with man’s inability to become justified through Torah is solved when the death and resurrection defeat the great enemies of creation and allow people to become justified by the faithfulness of the Messiah.
Since this theology is focused around the covenant that was made through the Torah with the Israelites, Wright holds that Paul did not see his new conception as a challenge to Judaism, but rather as a challenge to the pagan world that surrounded Judaism. Paul’s inclusion of the Messiah within the essence of God, Wright argues, was perfectly in keeping with Judaism’s monotheism, but this idea of monotheism has raised some issue with the classically held belief in the oneness of God that makes up strict monotheism. If Wright is correct that Paul includes the Messiah in the Shema and other monotheistic formulas because Paul sees the Messiah not just of a similar substance but of an identical substance of God, then why does Paul never seek to expound to his followers the physics of this arrangement? Within Wright’s argument Paul makes very bold statements that Paul knows are bold, but never seeks to give an explanation for how the divine essence of God that is entirely one could share his essence with the physical world. How can God combine himself with “sinful-flesh” without challenging the oneness of God? The answers to these questions appear absent from Paul. If Wright’s view on Paul’s beliefs concerning the divinity of the Messiah is accurate, Paul has made claims that actually do challenge the monotheistic perception of God within Judaism. Although Islam is not within the discussion, Wright does mention that the idea of God incarnated within a “son” would not hold within the Islamic faith, because it challenges strict monotheism. Although Wright argues that Paul’s main focus was to the paganism that surrounded Judaic monotheism, it seems that the inclusion of the Messiah as “son”, kyrios, and equal with God would have also challenged the systems within Judaism.
Wright portrays Paul’s belief in the Messiah as undeniably equal to God. Since Paul used the concept of kyrios from the Septuagint, Wright concludes that Paul believed the Messiah to be God Himself. Wright has concisely shown this idea of Messiah as God plays well into the theology of Paul, but at times it seems as if Wright speaks through Paul. Throughout his argument Wright falls back to the other members of the covenant that appear in the Hebrew Scriptures (i.e. Abraham and Moses), but Wright has failed to tie in another important figure to the narrative that Paul would have known so well. Wright has excluded Adam from the discussion; however, Paul did not. Wright provides the reader with the passage Romans 5:6-11. Wright claims that this passage exposing the love of God can only be understood if the Messiah is the “embodiment” of God. This argument makes sense at long as the reader is faithful to stop at verse 11 and not continue on onto the end of the chapter. Romans 5: 12-21 continue the story of the fallen creation and the role that Adam has played in the covenantal narrative.
If, because of the one man’s trespass, death exercise dominion through [Adam], much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness exercise dominion in life through the one man, Jesus Christ (Romans 5:17 NRSV)
This passage seems to suggest that since man played a key role, man must also play a key role in fixing the problem. Creation fell through the act of one man, Adam; therefore, creation must be made whole again through the actions of one man, Jesus Christ. The oneness and holiness of God that belongs to the belief of a strict monotheism like Judaism, could not allow for God to become partially combined with the fallen, sinful flesh. Also, man must correct his own wrongs through the power of God.
18Therefore just as one man’s trespasses led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.19 For just as by one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. (Romans 5:18-19)
These passages don’t quite refute Wright’s argument, but they blur the lines that Wright sought to make so clear. Wright portrays Paul as clearly viewing the Messiah as God Incarnate, but moving outside the selected passages muddles that clarity.
There are other problems with the argument that Wright makes concerning Paul and Jesus. Wright fails to directly take on the issues of Paul’s relations to other apostles, the Historical Jesus problems that arise from Paul’s theology. Paul claimed apostleship for himself as is restated multiple times within his own writings; however, Paul did not meet the requirements of apostleship set forth by the other apostles, the men who had known and travelled with Jesus. These credentials are set forth in Acts 1-21-22. The apostles sought an apostle to replace Judas Iscariot, so they looked for someone who had been with Jesus from his baptism by John the Baptist to his departure from the earth. Thus, this person would have been witness to Jesus before and after resurrection. Paul had never encountered Jesus outside of his mystical experience on the Damascus Road while the other apostle had seen and touched Jesus. The human side of Jesus was not important to Paul, because it was this human side of Jesus that was his handicap. Focusing on the humanity of Jesus brought to light the fact that Paul had never known Jesus unlike the apostles who sometimes opposed Paul. If a portrait of Historical Jesus were to be constructed from the Pauline Corpus, very little would be known about the figure. Pal concerned himself more with the metaphysical concepts of the Messiah than the man that was proclaimed to be that figure.
Just like Paul, Wright seems to attempt to dodge the topic of Historical Jesus. Much of what Wright claims that Paul held within his Christology is easy to understand when talking of metaphysical concepts, but try applying these concepts to a historical figure and the Christology seems to become foggy. Wright tries to make it easy for the reader to understand Paul’s high Christology by comparing the concept of God within flesh with the idea of Wisdom being an agent of God found in the Hebrew Scriptures. This works so far as the reader doesn’t consider that there wasn’t a man named Wisdom who walked the earth, gathered disciples, was executed by the state, and found his way into historical record. The high Christology portrayed by Wright through Paul helps to make the idea of God Incarnate clearer just so long as the reader doesn’t consider how this concept can fit within a historical figure.
Although at times it seems as if Wright is placing his own Christology onto Paul, Wright has created s fresh perspective for considering Paul’s theology. Wright has reminded the reader of the Jewish context of Paul. If Wright is correct that Paul only challenged paganism while only redefining the Jewish concepts around the Messiah, there seem to be many holes. Perhaps the biggest of these holes is how Wright claims that when Paul used kyrios to describe Jesus he meant it in the divine sense that could be found within older Hebrew writings. Paul’s inclusion of the Messiah into the oneness of God does not only challenge paganism, but Judaism as well. The high Christology held by as depicted by Wright, may not fit into Judaic monotheism as well as Wright hoped to purvey.
Wright’s discussion of the use of kyrios to describe Jesus Christ within the Christian scripture opens up the debate not only for Paul’s view of Christology, but also how it compares to the Christologies presented in the Synoptics and John. The confusing terms with which Paul describes the Messiah could be the basis for much discussion concerning the nature of the Messiah and how that concept fits into a historical figure like Jesus of Nazareth. The covenantal slant and justification through faithfulness that come into play when considering kyrios provide fodder for many modern Christians, especially for those who interpret Paul’s theology in opposition to Wright’s understanding. This is the beauty of the Christian scriptures. These documents have survived for nearly two thousand years, yet they still have not become stagnant. They still inspire despite all the time that has passed between Paul and N.T. Wright.