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The Jewishness of Jesus

28/9/2016

Yesterday there was a report in the press about the high incidence of anti-Semitism in Britain and, according to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Church is to blame. Christianity certainly has a long history of anti-Semitic attitudes and behaviour. It was the recognition of this in a book by the Jewish historian Jules Isaac that led Pope John XXIII to call for a statement on the Church’s relationship with the Jews at the Second Vatican Council which eventually developed into the Vatican Document on the Church’s Relations with Non-Christian Religions, known by the first two words of the Latin translation, ‘Nostra Aetate’. It was this document that started the Catholic Church on a journey of reconciliation and friendship with the Jewish people. It changed the relationship between the two faiths to the extent that Rabbi David Rosen says he knows of nothing in history that has so transformed a relationship between people as Nostra Aetate has done. Ant-Semitism would now be recognised as sinful and hopefully most Christians would not engage in offensive statements and behaviour but I think that we Christians have unconsciously absorbed a negative attitude to the Jews through our reading of scriptures, listening to sermons, engaging in religious education, to say nothing of secular education, and it’s lurking somewhere in our subconscious .

In the Christian Bible, the Gospels tell the story of Jesus but they are not historical accounts. Rather they are the expression of the faith of the community that wrote them and reflect the particular historical situation of the time in which they were written. They want to show Jesus as unique, with a unique message and different from the religious attitudes of the time. It’s easy to forget that all the characters in the stories are Jews and to identify the ‘goodies’ in the story with Christians, who are the followers of Jesus, and the ‘baddies’ with Jews who rejected him and live from a legalistic position rather than a position of love of God and neighbour. This was a common view of the difference between Christianity and Judaism. I have often heard people say that Judaism is a religion of law while Christianity is a religion of love, that the God of the Old Testament is a God of vengeance while the God of Jesus is a God of love. And yet some of the most beautiful passages in the bible about the love of God come from the Hebrew prophets.

Two authors who have looked at this spring to mind – Geza Vermes who many years ago wrote a book called Jesus the Jew. I was at university at the time and remember the flurry this caused – excitement for some, consternation for others. More recently Amy-Jill Levine, a Jewish New Testament scholar has written a book called ‘The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus’ in which she shows how much of what Christians take to be a challenge to 1st cy. Judaism in the Gospels is in fact a reflection of it. Jesus’ actions and stories reflect his own tradition. His prayer and attitude to God and the Law were not as idiosyncratic and challenging to his faith as the Christian scriptures and their interpreters would suggest. Jesus was a faithful Jew, probably more associated with the Pharisees than any other sect of the time. He was a teacher who knew how to challenge his listeners to get to the heart of their faith and live it faithfully. What appears to be conflict between Jesus and the Jews of the time is more likely to reflect the growing tensions between Church and Synagogue and the slant put on the text by the evangelist who wrote it in the light of these developments. As an academic NT scripture scholar Amy-Jill Levine is able to quote many scripture commentaries that show Judaism in a negative light. It’s the kind of teaching that wants to uphold and extol the uniqueness of Jesus and make him different from the context in which he lived - the kind of teaching that we Christians have imbibed since childhood and which seeps into our subconscious. It’s the kind of teaching that Jules Isaac classified as leading to contempt for the Jews.

Thank goodness it’s the kind of teaching that’s now recognised by the Catholic Church and many other Christians as inaccurate and wrong. It’s the reason why the Vatican has issued guidelines on how to present Jews and Judaism in teaching and preaching – but it’s not always done as well as it could be. Christians need to become sensitive to the ways in which Judaism is portrayed or could be interpreted in the scriptures – how does this sound to Jewish ears? It’s a good practice when reading our scriptures, as it for all believers when they read their own scriptures. For example a passage such as that in the letter to the Galatians which states that in Christ there is neither male nor female, Jew nor Greek, slave nor freeman, might sound inclusive in a Church context but exclusive in an interfaith context where it could be heard as suggesting that Judaism does not deserve to exist. The first time I heard an objection to this passage being used in an interfaith context I was puzzled, thinking of it in inclusive terms but of course it sounds quite different to Jewish ears – better to have both Jew and Greek perhaps, rather than neither.

There is a growing understanding of the Jewishness of Jesus within the Christian community and a growing appreciation of him within the Jewish community as evidenced by a recent statement from a group of Orthodox Rabbis. Amy- Jill Levine goes so far as to say that Jesus can be a bridge that unites the two religions rather than the wedge that has separated them. She thinks that Jews should see Jesus as a famous Jew and be proud of him and that Christians need to recognise his Jewishness if they are to truly know him. This is amazing stuff given the history of conflict between the two faiths. It offers an agenda for reconciliation and a discovery of the common roots from which both religions have sprung.
‘ Let those who have ears to hear………..

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Thirsting for Peace

21/9/2016

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I’ve been watching the peace service in Assisi on my computer. I caught the end of it so missed many of the speeches. These things are inevitably long but their symbolic value is immense. The event in Assisi today came at the end of a three day dialogue with religious leaders from around the world, organised by the Community of Sant’ Egidio, a catholic lay community dedicated to dialogue, reconciliation and justice. It took place thirty years to the day after the first Assisi peace summit when Pope John Paul II invited religious leaders to come together to pray for peace.

There have been many such instances since then but the first one was not straightforward. Cardinal Ratzinger, the then Prefect for the Congregation of the Faith didn’t approve and didn’t attend. He believed that the theological differences between the faiths meant they couldn’t pray together – who were they praying to, how should the prayers be framed so that the integrity of each faith was respected. Nor was Cardinal Ratzinger the only person to feel like this. Even in my small neck of the woods we’ve had difficulties in organising interfaith services because of the hesitancy of some leaders to pray with others, fearing they would be asked to participate and express a faith that they didn’t accept or believe in. I’ve also known some people to be unhappy to pray what appeared to be an inclusive prayer because they were unsure what others meant by the words they were saying together. I must say I found this one a bit strange as there’s no knowing what others in one’s own faith mean by the words they say together. Each of us has our own personal image of God, our own understanding of prayer that’s not necessarily identical to that of the community of faith.

But the questions around interfaith prayer are legitimate. The Catholic Church’s answer is that we come together to pray but not to pray together – a rather delicate distinction which overcomes theological niceties. This in fact happened at the first Assisi meeting in 1986 when religious leaders came together to express their commitment to peace but were given separate areas in which to pray according to their own tradition. This has been the case in all the other Assisi gatherings and it was the case today though there was a minute of silence which to me is a legitimate way of praying together. As a Buddhist monk says in Morris West’s book The Ambassador, when we speak we are two, when we are silent we are one. But I would also like to think there’s a way in which we can also express prayers openly and publicly, trusting that each one is acknowledging that which is Ultimate in their own way and that the God to whom they pray is the One God that is the source of Life.

I don’t think Pope Francis would have any problem with this. In his own inimitable way he cut through the theological debates when he included in his encyclical on creation, ‘Laudato Si’, a prayer to be said with other Christian denominations and one to be said with other faiths. This latter prayer would not have been acceptable to Buddhists as it did address God but I’m sure it would be possible to express a prayer in such a way that it would be acceptable to them.
Today’s event was a long one. The Pope arrived in Assisi late morning to greet and dine with the leaders and representatives of the world’s religions, to dine 12 refugees who had fled conflicts in Nigeria, Eritrea, Mali and Syria. This is a typical Pope Francis touch. He has shown in many ways his commitment to refugees and any gathering for peace can only be made more meaningful by having victims of war not just present but also contributing as they did in today’s gathering. There were also symbolic gestures which I think are a legitimate form of prayer that can unite participants in events like today’s. Representatives of the world faiths and representatives from conflict areas throughout the world lit candles and signed an appeal for peace that was then handed to children representing different parts of the globe. But will the globe listen?

These meetings of religious leaders have become more common since Pope John Paul called the first one in 1986. Sometimes they go unnoticed but the fact that they do might even be a step forward in that the original Assisi gathering caused consternation amongst right wing traditional Catholics who were appalled to see the Pope standing side by side with the Dalai Lama and other religious leaders. Now interreligious dialogue has become part of Church life. Right minded people recognise the possibilities within religions for peace in our world. What we believers now have to do is make that possibility a reality by becoming peacemakers wherever we find ourselves and in whatever small way we can.

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What's in a Name?

14/9/2016

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Subjects that regularly raise their heads in Scotland are faith schools, religious education, religious worship in schools – usually brought up by the humanist society which is against all of these, seeing religious education as indoctrination – especially in faith schools. Most of these schools happen to be Catholic so it’s often taken as an attack on Catholicism. This month the objection was the decision by the Scottish Government not to allow 16 -18 year olds to choose to opt out of religious observance. The report of it in the media showed a lack of clarity as to what the problem actually was. It confused religious observance, religious worship and religious education as though they were all the same thing so in the end it was difficult to know what the Humanist society was objecting to. As Confucius said “ if names be not correct, language is not in accordance with the truth of things and if language be not in accordance with the truth of things, affairs cannot be carried on to success”.

Religious observance is an unfortunate term. It sounds as though it demands or encourages a religious affiliation that pupils might not subscribe to. In fact it relates to what was once called school assemblies. When Christianity was the dominant religion and culture and religious education bible study assemblies often resembled acts of worship with prayers and hymns followed by the giving out of notices by the head teacher. Sometimes there would be visits to Church for events such as carol singing at Christmas and prize giving at the end of the year. All of this was fine when the pupils were believers and part of a faith community.

Things have changed. Religious education has developed beyond the confessional teaching of Christianity to include other world religions and schools, even Catholic schools, are now multi-faith and multicultural. Religious education is now seen as educational. It’s not about making pupils religious in the sense of indoctrinating or inculcating a particular faith. Rather it encourages students to question and reflect and develop a sense of meaning, value and purpose in their lives. It is about developing an understanding of religion and belief (now the name given in equality legislation to those who are not religious), giving pupils the opportunity to reflect on their own faith and understand that of others. With this changing understanding of religious education so too there was a change in the understanding of what school assemblies should be. It was recognised that no-one should be asked to participate in an act of worship expressed in terms of a religion or faith they did not believe in. In Scotland parents have always had the right to withdraw their children from religious education and from acts of worship. But religious observance now, according to the Scottish Government, is meant to be ‘a community act which aims to promote the spiritual development of all members of the school’s community and express and celebrate the shared values of the school community.’ It’s a moment to experience the corporate identity of the school and reflect anything that touches the school community. Who wouldn’t think this was a good thing or would want their child to be on the margins of this expression of community? Of course it depends on how it’s done. Change is slow and I’m sure that ten years after the Report on Religious Observance many schools are not adept at good assemblies. There’s also, of course, the added tension faith schools where an act of worship can express the faith values of the schools but then excludes those students who don’t belong to the faith. The experience can be educational for them and there is the ‘opt out’ clause for parents but faith schools too have to think, I believe, about expressing the corporate multi-faith nature of their community.

The model for this new approach to religious observance is often taken to be the Time for Reflection at the Scottish Parliament. When the Scottish Parliament was reconvened in 1999 it was decided that there would not be Christian prayers led by a chaplain as is the case in the Westminster Parliament. Rather there would be a space to stop and reflect and this would be led by people from different faiths – and none. It’s a great privilege to do this. I’ve done it twice and I know many people who’ve done it. Not only is it an opportunity to reflect with Parliamentarians but it encourages a sense of engagement with the Parliament – at least it did for me. The Humanist Society is not against this approach. A few years ago it came to an agreement with the Church of Scotland to petition the Scottish Parliament to change the name religious observance to that of Time for Reflection. It didn’t come to anything. I’m not sure why. For one thing it would require a change in law and that is quite an undertaking. I also suspect that the joint statement agreement didn’t have the backing of the whole Church and that there were objections to it. To get the agreement of a Church or faith community takes a long time and a long process of consultation. It’s easier for the Humanist Society which has far fewer members to do this.

So where does all this take me with regard to interreligious dialogue? Well it teaches me that so many misunderstandings arise because of confusion as to what we are talking about. It teaches me how important it is to clarify our terms, to tease out what we mean by the words we use before we even begin to dialogue. If we do this we might find we are closer in our understanding than first appears to be the case or that our disagreements are not so much about content as form. It also teaches me that there is a need to really dialogue about these issues and to develop ways to celebrate our common identity in a reflective way, whether that be the school community or the civic community – an agenda I’d like to see the interfaith world take seriously.

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The Making of a Saint

7/9/2016

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There was a lot of publicity at the weekend over the canonisation of Mother Teresa, now Saint Teresa of Calcutta or Kolkota as we now say. She was a very well- known figure, brought into the limelight by Malcolm Muggeridge, a well-known atheist whose meeting with her set him on the path to faith. She began her work in India in a conventional way –as a religious teaching the poor but living within the confines of the convent walls which perhaps distanced her a little from the poverty around until she felt called by God to ‘leap over the wall’ so to speak and serve the destitute and dying in the streets of Kolkata.

Mother Teresa captured the imagination of many people. She was a friend of Popes, presidents and prime ministers but above all of those dying on the streets of Kolkata. Now she has been formally recognised as a saint. I think it’s only the catholic churches that formally canonises people like this (both eastern and western forms) though many religions do honour holy men and women as saints.

She had her critics of course. There are some who think she did very little to change the situation of the poor; that she should have been working for structural change that does away with poverty. It’s the old adage about not giving people fish but teaching them how to fish. It’s the tension between charity and development – allowing people to take responsibility for their own lives and not just providing for them. For many working in the social justice sector trying to get the development message across is difficult. Charitable work and charity organisations are more likely to fire the imagination because people can see the good that is being done by donations that are going directly to alleviating poverty of whatever kind. Sometimes it can almost seem as though the two approaches are in competition. But surely both are necessary.

Mother Teresa was working with the poorest of the poor, those dying of AIDS and other illnesses who had no chance of bettering their lot, who would have been left in the gutter with no hope if she had put her energies into working for structural change. For Mother Teresa the human beings she encountered called out for help and she loved them – a bit like the kind of love a mother lion might have for her cubs – working ferociously and tirelessly to help them and rescue them from the most awful conditions. We all have our gifts and not everyone could do what Mother Teresa did though the thousands of women who joined her felt they could. But we also do not want to simply care for people – like bandaging a wound instead of curing it and working for the transformation of unjust structures is certainly important. But it’s not everyone’s gift. Maybe Mother Teresa was challenged by those working for the transformation of society. Perhaps she just didn’t have the skills to do it. Sometimes it seems as though development work is a middle class venture and it surely needs the skills of articulation and negotiation and while people engaging in it are no doubt inspired by a love of the poor, I suspect some of them would not be too good at working with grass roots deprivation and poverty. I suspect too that other people, like me, are challenged by someone like Mother Teresa and in my heart I feel a bit guilty that I couldn’t do that work and that I live a life of ease compared to them. Perhaps that’s what saints do. Their whole-hearted devotion is a challenge and I feel it every time I pass a beggar in the street.

Mother Teresa was known by the rich and famous – she took money from people who were dictators – another criticism levelled against her. Her response was “when a man dies on the street for want of food, how can I ignore him? When I find a starving or naked man in the street I cannot walk past him” She did know that others would and should take up the challenge of unjust structures but for her the way was clear – people were to be loved and helped no matter what their colour, race or religion. In all the publicity around the canonisation there have been a number of articles by people who found themselves very critical of Mother Teresa’s approach, of the state of the homes for the dying that she set up, of her steely determination but who in the end were impressed because they realised here was a dire and extreme situation of multiple deprivations that no-one else was heeding.

All this shows that saints are not perfect. That they will fail and even slip up on what some consider to be high standards. In the catholic church they are considered to be people of heroic virtue but maybe not heroic in every virtue. They are mahatmas, great souls, who are single-minded in their commitment. Gandhi, who was given the title mahatma, was single minded in his non-violent search for truth, Mother Teresa was single-minded in her love of the poor and her total commitment to them. We often see people who are single minded – great athletes, gymnasts and musicians whose virtuosity takes the human person beyond what we think possible. I remember the 4 minute mile which, in its day, was considered a great feat but now seems quite slow. It’s as though some human beings break through a barrier which allows others to follow. What we have in mahatmas or saints are great souls. Their wholehearted dedication to something much greater than themselves in the area of virtue and truth, service and commitment is not just an example to us but actually breaks through barriers that allow all of us to somehow follow in their shadow. Someone once told me he thought it had been a privilege to live at the same time as Nelson Mandela, another Mahatma. This made real sense to me and I thought of the founders of religions throughout the ages who have changed humanity by their lives and their message. But today it’s Mother Teresa that we honour as a Mahatma and surely she too has shown us what humanity at its best can be.

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The Jewishness of Jesus

Thirsting for Peace

What's in a Name?

The Making of a Saint

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Religious Performances

The Jewishness of Jesus

Thirsting for Peace

What's in a Name?

The Making of a Saint

Author

Archives

CategoriesReligious Performances​​

Categories
Religious Performances