On Jesus
Two things happened in the last few weeks that encouraged me to
switch today's sermon from one on hospitality to one on the question: Who was
Jesus?
The week before last, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court issued
a ruling on same sex marriage, saying the ban against same sex marriage was
discriminatory and illegal under the commonwealth's constitution. Channel 8
news asked me to comment on the case. I prepared for a question on the bible
and homosexuality, which was changed at the last minute. I was unable to talk
about that specific issue. Instead, I penned an op/ed piece for the Dispatch,
which ran earlier this week. I have reprinted that for the QCU, so you'll be
able to see my thoughts.
The Washington post yesterday ran this paragraph at the top of a
story on the political climate around gay marriage. A broad array of religious
groups and conservative political activists has united behind the idea of a
constitutional amendment against gay marriage. A broad array of religious
groups. This conglomerate of religious right crazies has done such a good job
that when people hear the word Christian, it is as if they only hear the word
Fundamentalists.
In Jesus name, people all over the country are using the bible as
a weapon, as a wedge. Nothing particularly new in that, but it deserves a
response. Who was this Jesus, that he could cause some people to rally around
inclusive love and others to exclude and deny and divide?
The second thing that happened hits closer to home, perhaps. I
had really important and productive conversations with long-standing humanists
in this congregation, who fear that the talk on spirituality will dilute the
impact of our congregational life together.
It occurred to me, after those conversations, that I had never
shared with you my view of Jesus. I have never preached on him here. I have
never given you my sense of what Jesus meant in his context and what he means
in ours.
Is Jesus a relevant figure in Unitarian Universalist
congregations in the 21st century? A fair question.
I want to spend a few minutes this morning on this person, this
man, Jesus. And then I want to spend a few minutes relating what I consider to
be the foundational affirmations of any Unitarian Universalist congregation.
When I went off on my quest for meaning and truth, around the
age of 19, I knew that the Jesus I had been introduced to--a Reagan Republican
basically--was not the Jesus of the scriptures. I loved this man Jesus that I
had glimpsed in the scriptures. He was passionate and courageous and witty and
daring. He was a subversive, and he used examples, especially in the parables,
that were right at hand--mustard seeds and trees and especially people in all
their foibles and silliness.
It is clear that when we speak of Jesus, we speak of two
different figures (at least): One is theological--the Jesus of Paul and
Augustine and Constantine and the creeds. This theological Jesus was made part
of the trinity in official church councils, sponsored by Constantine. The other
Jesus is the historical Jesus. While we know much about the theological Jesus,
we have very little access to that historical figure. For more than 100 years,
starting with the publication of Albert Schweitzer's classic book, The Quest of
the Historical Jesus, there has been an academic effort to come to grips with
what this man really said, really did and for what purpose.
There are only a few historical references to Jesus outside the
New Testament, and one of these, by the Jewish historian Josephus, may have
been rewritten by Christians at a latter date. The earliest references to Jesus
life are Paul's in the New Testament. These letters, the ones we know were
written by Paul, appeared about 20 years after Jesus' death in year 50 of the
common era. But Paul's letters, written for the earliest Christian communities
that were divided in some interesting ways, say little about Jesus' actual
life.
While there were perhaps as many as 20 gospels circulating, most
are lost, except for the odd fragment here and there. There was also a
longstanding oral tradition that lasted more than a century. The four gospels
we know, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were accepted as canonical in the 2nd
century. The Gospel of Thomas survived in part from the 2nd century, as well as
some material from the Nag Hammadi library found in the 1940s in Egypt, which
gives us clues about the Essene sect, a strict group that believed in an
afterlife, believed in the coming of one or possibly two messiahs (a priest
figure and a king)--the messiah was not a divine being, but one anointed by
God, believed in celibacy.
Mark, it is sort of accepted universally, was the earliest
Gospel written, perhaps in the 70s about 40 years after Jesus' death. The
interesting thing about Mark is that there is no birth account--it begins with
Jesus baptism at the hand of John the Baptist--and the original end of that
material includes only an empty tomb. Later, a resurrection scene was added by
Christians. Matthew and Luke share some common sources--Mark for instance and a
document that is shadowy called Q, short for a German word meaning
"source." It is hard to know what to do with John. It was written
last, around year 100 of the common era. It is both the most theological
writing--Jesus barely bleeds when attacked--and perhaps the most historical,
providing unique perspective on the trial, for instance.
The stage setting for the drama that is Jesus' life is Spartan.
This is because the gospels were neither history or biography or journalism.
They were written with specific purposes in mind, mainly advocacy, with
specific audiences targeted.
Here is what we know for sure. Around year 6 or 7 before the
common era, a Jew named Yeshu was born, a few years before the death of Herod
the Great. He was likely born in Nazareth, though possibly in Bethlehem. He
certainly grew up in Nazareth, a small hill town in Lower Galilee. His mother
was named Miriam, or Mary and his father was Jacob, or Joseph. The gospels name
four brothers of Jesus: James, Joseph, Judah and Simon. Sisters are mentioned
but go unnamed. It is unclear, but some scholars believe that his family was
part of a reawakened Jewish nation and religious identity movement prominent in
Galilee at that time, a movement that longed for a return of Israel to its earlier
glory.
Jesus' family was likely involved in an uncomplicated type of
Jewish piety widespread among peasants in lower Galilee. Ordinary Galilean Jews
had little time for or interest in the theological niceties, the special
observances and the disputes of the Essenes, the Pharisees, or the Sadducees.
They would have been surrounded by Gentiles and some Hellenistic culture. So
they kept the basic observances of the Jewish faith as boundary symbols,
reinforcing their identity.
Jesus was the eldest. He was trained as a woodworker, apparently
following in the footsteps of his father, who died before Jesus began his
public ministry. The rest of the family was alive when Jesus began his
ministry. Some gospel accounts claim that not even his brothers believed in
him, though James later would become the head of the Christian Jews in
Jerusalem.
His primary language was Aramaic, though he may have spoken some
Greek and learned perhaps some Hebrew. Questions remain as to whether Jesus was
literate or not. He was a master story-teller. He never married, which would
have made him stand out. He wasn't alone in that. John the Baptist was single,
as were other Essene Jews. Some think that John and Jesus were of that sect.
Others believe that Jesus was a Pharisee, the group that is often understood as
the enemy of Jesus. If Jesus was a Pharisee, his enemies were a small portion
of that sect. We don't know.
What is clear is that Jesus could have spent his whole life in
the obscurity of Nazareth, but he chose otherwise. Somewhere around year 28 of
the common era, Jesus broke with his settled life and his family to undertake
the unusual role of an itinerant celibate layman (perhaps) proclaiming the
imminent arrival of what he called the kingdom or realm of God.
His public ministry is best understood in the context of the
public ministry of John the Baptist, another marginal Jew. John appears on the
scene around year 28, a highly dramatic figure preaching that a fiery judgment
is imminent, a judgment that would engulf Israel. In his preaching John kept
referring to the stronger one, or the one who would come. This person was to
administer the judgment. Jesus was among those who listened to John, was
baptized by him, and it seems--though can't be proven--stayed on as an apprentice
with John. Many believed John to be the messiah. It is of great debate, among
the historical Jesus scholars, whether Jesus ever broke with John's message.
Additionally, whether Jesus understood the judgment to include him.
What we do know is that in his public ministry he was prophetic,
he was a masterful story-teller, and he had a reputation for doing miracles. We
know that after about three years of public ministry, in which he gathered men
and women around him, he made his way to Jerusalem and was killed.
\For four hundred years, Christians did not represent Jesus
nailed to a cross. The resurrection accounts in Mark may have been added as
late as year 200 of the common era.
The resurrection accounts in the gospels are confused and
contradictory. Some have Mary Magdalene seeing Jesus first. Others have a
sighting near the tomb and then in Galilee. In Luke, the appearances are all in
or around Jerusalem.
The last thirty years has been productive in terms of
scholarship around Jesus.
(added material here)
At one point, Jesus was understood to have little or no
relationship to his Jewishness. With the rich diversity of scholarship in
recent times, his Jewishness is accepted. It is now commonplace to understand
that Jesus was attempting a reform, a renewal of the Jewish faith.
He was no founder of the Christian faith. As I have said, the
earliest recalling of his life make no mention of an extraordinary birth and no
mention of a resurrection.
Recent scholarship has produced books and articles attempting to
pin Jesus down: He was a magic man. He was a Jewish holy man. He was a Rabbi.
He was a Revolutionary. He was a teacher, a marginal Jew, a prophet, a peasant
leader. In 1917, from this pulpit one of your ministers asked the question: Was
Jesus a socialist?
Why should we care?
Rev. Marilyn Sewall, our minister at First Unitarian in
Portland, recounts this story: One Sunday when I was leading worship, I
mentioned Jesus. I read from the Bible. And some were upset. I was surprised.
We could read from the Tao, from native American myth, read Zen koans, and
chant--but for some reason, some people couldn't handle Jesus. I understand
now--some of us have left the churches of our childhood because of what those
churches did with Jesus, and so any mention of him brings up pain and
discomfort. I understand that, and yet I'm not willing to give Jesus away to
the fundamentalists--just like I'm unwilling to give the Bible away to them, or
the flag. Jesus remains a figure of immense power and persuasion, arguably the
most influential figure of Western civilization.
Robert Funk, like Marcus Borg, are members of the Jesus Seminar.
They are on a mission to figure out who Jesus was. Funk says this about why
this quest means something to him. His vision is worth exploring. Jesus encourages
me to celebrate life, to suck the marrow out of existence, to explore and
probe, and experiment, to venture into uncharted seas, without fear of a
tyrannical God. He does not set limits on my curiosity, on my drive to
challenge every axiom. That same Jesus prompts me to give myself to tasks that
exceed, even contradict, my own self-interest. I am not infrequently startled
at the tasks I find myself willing to undertake.
Funk goes on: As I look around me, I am distressed by those who
are enslaved by a Christ imposed on them by a narrow and rigid legacy. There
are thousands, perhaps millions, of Americans who are victims of a mythical
Jesus conjured up by modern evangelists to whip their followers into a frenzy
of guilt and remorse. I agonize over their slavery in contrast to my freedom.
Jesus used humor. He never gave advice. He spoke in riddles. He
was subversive of the comfortable status=quo.
And today, a broad array of religious groups, in his name, are
attempting to insert an amendment into the constitution that will codify hatred
and discrimination.
I, like Marilyn Sewall, will not give up this human
peasant/sage, prophet, charismatic leader to the fundamentalists who seek to
control, control, control.
So though I am informed and encouraged by the Jesus of human
flesh, I am no Trinitarian. I do not believe in the resurrection. I believe in
evolution. I believe in story-telling and parables and poetry. I believe in the
freedom that Robert Funk spoke about and Jesus lived.
In this tradition, which said early on "We believe in the
religion of Jesus, not the religion about Jesus." In this tradition, no
matter how we call ourselves, we will forever be affirming some basic things.
Following Tom Owen-Towle, I like that word affirmation. W. H. Auden said,
May I, composed of dust, beleaguered by the same negation and despair, show an
affirming flame. Some things we affirm in flame, and always have and always
will, as Unitarian Universalists: Responsible freedom, the essential goodness
of humankind, the transforming power of love, the necessity of the democratic
process, commitment to being an intentionally welcoming and diverse church
community, the never-ending quest for truths, not one Truth, the acceptance of
this natural universe as our true home and place of origin, the core insistence
that divinity is experienced in this world and not outside of it. We affirm in
flame that our universe is unified and gracious, if unfathomable, that we must
embody our ethical, liberating religion, that we trust in the authority of the
individual conscience, guided by reason, intuition and the beloved community.
There may be more that you would add to the list. It is no
creed, so maybe there'd be some that you would subtract. We all have so many
different understandings, which is our great asset. As Emerson said, If two
think exactly alike, one isn't thinking. Our differences at time seem to
stretch us. I mean to say that Our differences shall not divide us. Our task is
too great.
November 30, 2003, Unitarian Church, Davenport, Iowa. Rev. Roger Butts