Showing posts with label Albert Schweitzer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Albert Schweitzer. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 27, 2024

LOL Gerald O'Collins, Society of Jesus, 1971, speaking up for the Cosmic Christ without the slightest hint of self-awareness

 First, Jesus must not be turned into a contemporary. He is rightly viewed within the historical framework of the first century. To describe Him as a revolutionary leader, a truly secular man or the first hippie may be emotionally satisfying, but for the most part these stereotypes are intellectually worthless. Albert Schweitzer’s warnings against creating Jesus in accordance with one’s own character still stand. ...

We meet God in the cosmic Christ who encounters us now, as well as in the strangeness of a first-century Galilean whose preaching resulted in His crucifixion.

-- America: The Jesuit Review, March 6, 1971 and August 26, 2024 

Gerald O'Collins was a systematic theologian, not a philologist, who passed away August 22, 2024 after a long and distinguished Catholic academic career at Pontifical Gregorian University, 1973-2006.

Perhaps the most famous proponent of the cosmic Christ was the fellow Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, whose offenses against Catholic doctrine were repeatedly warned against but never proscribed. Several Catholic intellectuals sought to rehabilitate his reputation after his death in 1955, not the least of whom was Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, the future Pope Benedict XVI.

O'Collins was a child of this time.

The theological idea of the cosmic Christ certainly has its germ in the Pauline Colossian epistle and later in Irenaeus, but can hardly be said to be a Synoptic idea. O'Collins wanted these to have equal weight:

Both the Synoptic account of the preacher from Nazareth and Paul’s reflections on his Lord’s death and resurrection belong within the canon of scripture.

Yet it was Paul himself who eschewed the historical Jesus:

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once regarded Christ from a human point of view, we regard him thus no longer.

-- II Corinthians 5:16 


 

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Catholic biblical scholar just coincidentally concludes that the history of hell pretty much confirms the Roman Catholic dogma of purgatory


 Candida Moss, here for the Jesuits, thinks that the biblical hell begins as a relatively late product of Greek influence from the time of Alexander the Great, and that in keeping with later Catholic reflection is a temporary place of punishment and purgation, not of eternal damnation.

Evidently Hitler does go to heaven, but he will be the very last one out of hell, on that you may rely.

Her essay does a better job of explaining how the later Catholic idea of purgatory reflects the actual awful material conditions of Roman penal and slave experience in late antiquity than it does of explaining the gospels' language. In the end the pope's hope that hell one day will be empty is "surely right", according to Moss.

In the middle of those Greek and Roman historical bookends, however, lies the New Testament language about hell. And it is just weird how Moss is so perfunctorily dismissive of that language. She hardly treats of it at all. For her it is simply "obscure" because it is usually parabolic or "evasively symbolic", a point of view which is oddly reminiscent of long-standing Protestant dismissiveness of "the hard sayings of Jesus". The Protestants find the hard sayings problematic in the main because they contradict the universal gospel to the Gentiles. In this case, a Catholic finds them problematic because they contradict the universalism implied by purgatory. For neither could it be possible that those sayings reflect an actual historical message, being so stern and radical as to be unthinkable. They must be an anomaly: "eschatology straight up, without the diluting effects of divine mercy and forgiveness."

Just so.

Candida Moss stumbles over the Albert Schweitzer hard truth. The ameliorating of the hard sayings was the anomaly. The hard sayings did not arise from Lake Placid. Lectio difficilior potior, interpretatio item.

Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.  

-- Matthew 7:14

For Moss the gospels are contradictory and run "hot and cold" on hell. The gospels give us only a "faint sense" of hell at best. After all there was a time when hell was not in the Bible, before the Greeks, and it shouldn't surprise us that the parables of Jesus really don't describe any "actual eternal punishment" dontcha know. It's a foreign idea, whose time came and went.

Oh dear.

And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. And if thy foot offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter halt into life, than having two feet to be cast into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out: it is better for thee to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.

-- Mark 9:43ff. 

Moss would like us to think, simply ignoring this passage, not only that there is no eternal fire according to Jesus, but that all such worm talk actually came from a later period, from the horrible fact of the parasites in human shit found everywhere and on everything in ancient prison cells, the literal analogues of an imaginary storied hell as in Dante, rather than from the actual message of Jesus about the eternal decay of death in the grave. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, they do a dance upon your snout. This is . . . completely unconvincing.

That last point needs to be emphasized. The eternal decay of death in the grave flies in the face of Jesus' supposed belief in and preaching of resurrection of the body. The eternal grave which confronts us here is an offense to that.

But there it is. Eternal fire. Eternal worm. Straight up.


Thursday, June 22, 2023

The climate apocalypse predicted by high school dropout Greta Thunberg has failed, just like the religious apocalypse predicted by the Gospels

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  For his part Jesus at least stuck to his guns to the bitter end, though even he kept adjusting the timeline incrementally forward. It was his followers who did most of the covering up for him. In deleting her tweet prediction back in March of this year, Greta resembles them.

The deletion of the prediction, and of ~54 other such predictions, is the subject of some well-deserved derision here and here.

The merriment aside, it is safe to say that faith in the ever-coming, ever-delayed climate apocalypse will continue despite all being lost, now that we have reached the five-year-point of no return.

More and more the climate hysterics look like the already/not yet Kingdom of God enthusiasts among the world's Christians. The latter have their cake and eat it too as their answer to the problem of Jesus' expected in-breaking of the kingdom before the end of the mission of The Twelve in Matthew 10. As no Christian will concede that Jesus was mistaken about this, no climate fanatic will concede that their predictions have been false.

Like Christians in every age since, climate ideologues in academe, in organizations, and in the press routinely conflate instances of extreme weather with climate as signs of the predicted imminent catastrophe. The steady drumbeat of boy crying wolf is meant to whip up expectation and devotion, and above all money, which give the movement coherence and hope as the coming end is delayed again and again and again. You might even say that the Christian apocalyptic delusion, embedded into the very thinking of the West over the long centuries, prepared the way for the victory of the Climate delusion.

It is a useful meditation in how the original "apocalyptic" message of Jesus really wasn't apocalyptic at all, predicting signs and wonders in the heavens above and in the earth below. It only became so in the hands of the Gospel authors after its failure. As Vincent Taylor matter-of-factly pointed out decades ago, the Gospels were primarily composed in response to the delay of the parousia. The Gospels make Jesus predict a second coming, but its delay too was no less of problem than the failure of the first coming.

Jesus' original message was truly, dare we say merely, thorough-goingly eschatological, as Albert Schweitzer had said over 100 years ago. It was not apocalyptic.

Jesus said there would be no sign of the coming of the Son of Man (Mark 8:12). He would come quickly, like a thief in the night, leading the reaper angels who would pluck out from the world everything which offendeth. Two would be in a field, one would be taken and the other left. Two in a bed, one taken, one left. The taken would be bundled up together and burned. The kingdom of God would descend from heaven above. Its heavenly temple would descend and crush its earthly counterpart. The Twelve would rule over the Twelve Tribes of Israel as God made his will done on earth as it is in heaven. Everything in Jesus' generation would continue briefly just as it is, as in the days of Noah, people buying and selling, marrying and giving in marriage, and then Bam!

All would be calm and normal before the great and terrible day of the Lord.

This message is still embedded in the Gospel data, but its timeline and details were all recast in specifically apocalyptic terms of a second coming, the delay of which the Gospels are meant to address as a cope. Apocalyptic and eschatology have been hopelessly conflated ever since, with Christians forever preoccupied with the signs of the times.

People who marvel at how Christianity ever achieved its status as a universal religion which has endured through the ages and commanded the assent of billions over two millennia despite the on-going delay of the parousia rarely reflect on the power fanaticism has to delude thoroughly, and on a grand scale.

They have the climate hysteria now before their very eyes. They are actually living it. And yet they cannot see it.

The climate delusion has reached astounding proportions since its laughable prophet Al Gore, divinity school dropout (what a coincidence, right?), first began his climate ministry in 1993. The whole world is feeling its grip, banking on so-called green electricity when its capacity to generate enough of it to replace fossil fuel and nuclear sources is nothing but a pipe-dream.

And to think America almost made him president.

Nothing good has come out of Carthage, Tennessee.

Sunday, March 21, 2021

Paul's ideas of imitation, from which we get Imitatio Christi, are quite contrary to the teaching and intent of Jesus


Paul's idea of imitation is a repudiation of Jesus' radical ideas of eschatological repentance, which involved flight from traditional social conventions in order to escape the imminently coming judgment. In point of fact Jesus' idea left nothing positive to imitate. This is why Schweitzer could speak of Jesus' ethic as a negation of ethics.

Paul's "way" on the other hand was a rationalization of those conventions after the failure of the eschaton and the impending failure of the parousia. Instead of rejecting traditional social roles he simply accepted them and invested them with new meaning.

For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I urge you, then, be imitators of me. Therefore I sent to you Timothy, my beloved and faithful child in the Lord, to remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach them everywhere in every church.

-- I Corinthians 4:15ff. (RSV)

And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you received the word in much affliction, with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit;

-- I Thessalonians 1:6 (RSV)

As ye know how we exhorted and comforted and charged every one of you, as a father doth his children,

-- I Thessalonians 2:11

Paul is, in fact, all over the map on this, spilling a lot of ink on the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as fathers even though he knows we have but one father, God. He seems completely ignorant of the teaching of Jesus, which rejected all human fathers in favor of the fatherhood of God. Paul notably also does not use the language of "following" as found in the gospels ("come after me", "follow me"). Instead he speaks of mimesis, which in its turn is foreign to the gospels.

Therefore it is of faith, that it might be by grace; to the end the promise might be sure to all the seed; not to that only which is of the law, but to that also which is of the faith of Abraham; who is the father of us all, 

-- Romans 4:16

And not only this; but when Rebecca also had conceived by one, even by our father Isaac; 

-- Romans 9:10

As concerning the gospel, they are enemies for your sakes: but as touching the election, they are beloved for the fathers' sakes.

-- Romans 11:28

... all our fathers were under the cloud ...

-- I Corinthians 10:1

But ye know the proof of him [Timothy], that, as a son with the father, he hath served with me in the gospel.

-- Philippians 2:22

The whole thing degenerates into the familial as the pressure of the delay of the parousia re-invigorates traditional human social roles:

Unto Timothy, my own son in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace, from God our Father and Jesus Christ our Lord.

-- I Timothy 1:2

Rebuke not an elder, but intreat him as a father; and the younger men as brethren;

-- I Timothy 5:1

To Timothy, my dearly beloved son: Grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.

-- II Timothy 1:2

To Titus, mine own son after the common faith: Grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ our Saviour.

-- Titus 1:4

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And call no man your father upon the earth: for one is your Father, which is in heaven.

-- Matthew 23:9

Saturday, July 28, 2018

Behavior, not books?



Infinite shall be made cold in religion, by your example, that never were hurt by reading books.

-- Roger Ascham (1515-1568)

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

As with most Christians, Luther's basic failure was to misunderstand the apocalyptic setting of repentance

What does it all mean, Bertie?
As here:

"When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said ‘Repent,’ He called for the entire life of believers to be one of penitence." This was the first of Martin Luther’s 95 theses, pinned to the door of a Wittenberg church in 1517—and the beginning of the movement that would ultimately fracture the church and alter the trajectory of the West.

The crux of the matter is in the phrase "entire life". Luther's excellence is that he grasped the difference between what was self-evidently not authentic about Christian civilization and what it should have looked like, but himself fell short of the implications. Well, who hasn't? Haven't all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God?

Jesus did not imagine generation upon generation of millions of repentant believers across the globe spending their long lives daily drowning the Old Adam in the waters of baptism in fervent hope of eternal life as they pursued their vocations to the glory of God. Instead he imagined a few chosen ones from his own generation of Jews repudiating their lives, their relationships, obligations and values, all of which held them back from the righteousness of God, in firm expectation of the imminent in-breaking of the kingdom of God and the final judgment. The history of Christianity is nothing more than a long list of compromises with this radicalism, more or less trying to corral this elephant in the chancel, disguise it or shoot it.

Schweitzer at least let it return to the jungle.  


Saturday, November 25, 2017

David Bentley Hart admits that "on the whole, the Gospel is probably not a very good formula for protecting public safety"

Ya think?

Here in Commonweal:

The Sermon on the Mount’s prohibitions of retaliation are absolutely binding on Christians, in both the private and the public spheres, for on the cross Christ at once perfected the refusal of violence and exhausted the Law’s wrath.

This simply begs the question, not only of present injustice, but of final judgment, which Christianity nevertheless teaches. The wrath of God has been hardly exhausted and will be meted out, according to the clear Christian teaching. This makes no sense if the Law's wrath has been "exhausted". The only conclusion to be drawn from that, if it is true, is that there will be no final judgment. This, of course, is where universalism comes from. And the doctrine of purgatory is its halfway house.

The ordinance not to retaliate, like all of the teaching, for example on poverty, is part of the wider message that the world is soon coming to an end. Take that end away, and the teaching becomes utterly obscurantist. It is only intelligible as an explicitly interim ethic in an eschatological time. But even at that, as Schweitzer correctly pointed out, it really represents the negation of ethics and is no ethic at all because all traditional human relationships under it have come to an end ("For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother").

That is why Tacitus correctly called the Christians haters of humanity.
 
It's also why Christians themselves at length gave it up.

People will not persist in an interminable state of poverty and undergo injustice in very large numbers or for a very long period. The history of the church tells us so. It is the history of the compromise and defeat of the original eschatological message. It is a history of degeneration.

Early in the essay Hart deflects the charge of sentimentality saying that he thinks there are very few opponents of capital punishment who do not realize the heinousness of many crimes. But in its place Hart advocates for his own sunny form of unrealism:

[I]f Newman was right—and believing Catholics had better hope he was, for the sake of the intelligibility of their faith—it is not only doctrine but also the church’s understanding of its teachings that is clarified over time by the Spirit. There may be slight missteps, of course, but the general view of development tacitly taken by the magisterium is that there are no violent retreats from clearly stated new discoveries; there is only a relentless narrowing and intensification of focus. This suggests, among other things, that the teachings of the magisterium under the current pontificate are probably more trustworthy than those under the pontificate of, say, Leo X.

I expect Mary to be declared part of the godhead any day now.

Monday, March 27, 2017

"The least of these my brethren" remains misunderstood divorced from the meaning of discipleship in its apocalyptic milieu

The misunderstanding was recently on vivid display here, where conservative and liberal interpreters feud over the meaning of Matthew 25:40 for the contemporary social situation of wealth and poverty.

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

Unfortunately the text has little meaning for the contemporary social situation, except perhaps to teach those who think that they are Jesus' followers that they are not, and those who are self-satisfied humanitarians that they are dull.

The significance of "my brethren" is much more than what its conservative interpreters say it is. The phrase locates it in apocalyptic time, to the activity of The Twelve before the end of the world. It cannot refer to future generations, as if it were some timeless instruction for right living which liberalism for example can pride itself on by making it the law of the land. Jesus does not at all imagine such a future. He does not even imagine our existence. Instead Jesus imagines a future cut short by judgment and the arrival of the kingdom of God. It is the narrowest of time horizons constrained by the expectation of an imminent end of the world.

Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. ... Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels (Matthew 25:34, 41).

The activity of The Twelve is what is expected of disciples who have paid the cost to escape the apocalyptic sentence of death: Leaving all and following their Master, selling what they have and giving to the poor, embarking on an itinerant life preaching a similar repentance, traveling without visible means of support and relying on God to provide, and so on. This is all of a piece with the teaching on discipleship and the instructions to missionaries elsewhere, summarizing and presupposing it.

"Salvation" comes to a house that provides these itinerants their food, drink, clothing, shelter, palliative care for illness in the event, and companionship if and when imprisoned for posing a threat to the powers about to be overthrown by the inbreaking of God's reign. Such acts constitute their own repentance and solidarity with the "Christian" message.

Needless to say, this is a vision which has almost nothing to do with the Pauline Gospel per se, but amazingly survived in the written record anyway despite its failure to materialize.

It does live on in Paul, however, in another form, in "the collection for the saints". Paul's pledge "to remember the poor" is specifically defined by that, and not by a dull humanitarianism. Paul's collection for the saints in Jerusalem, in fact, is the second great animating feature of his missionary journeys but is still little remarked let alone appreciated in your average church today. As for the dull humanitarianism, we have to wait until the 19th Century and Liberal Christianity before we really get the groundwork laid for that contemporary misreading of the ancient sources referred to above. It was against this that Schweitzer's critique based on apocalyptic was launched at the beginning of the 20th Century.

We talk about that critique a lot here.

Monday, August 22, 2016

To the historical Jesus the gospel was the good news of the coming of God's kingdom, not "Christ crucified", not "grace alone through faith alone"

The Spirit of the LORD is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free, and that the time of the LORD's favor has come. ... I must preach the Good News of the Kingdom of God in other towns, too, because that is why I was sent. So he continued to travel around, preaching in synagogues throughout Judea.

-- Luke 4:18f., 43f.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Historian Phil Jenkins discovers that Christianity is the grandmother of Bolshevism

Here and imbedded links (he hasn't really yet thought through it):

"Engels had something like a love for the early Christians, and he imagines talking to them as fellow-sufferers who came from exactly the [same] kind of setting."

Attacked in the comments at one point, he responds:

". . . the early Christian movement was very diverse in its theologies. By the way, one common explanation for the ebionites was that they were the remnants of the original Jewish followers of Jesus, including the bulk of the Jerusalem church, who never accepted Paul's innovations."

Keep it up Phil! You are on the right track! Too bad you didn't train in philology . . . it wouldn't have taken you this long to figure out that Pauline Christianity is a double-edged sword leaving us with two forms of materialism which now war for our imaginations, even though you'll probably become bored and get side-tracked away from this also.

Jewish Christians renounced the material, as did Jesus, believing the kingdom of God was coming down to earth from God, right quick like, as they say in the holler. Paul's Gospel by contrast baptized entrepreneurialism and made free-enterprise and Judaism safe for the world. Hence the tithers of today, and the spread of the congregation on the synagogue model.

Historians would be better engaged figuring out what went wrong there with Paul. Albert Schweitzer figured out what went wrong with Jesus.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

There is no ethic of the kingdom of God

"There is for Jesus no ethic of the Kingdom of God, for in the Kingdom of God all natural relationships, even, for example, the distinction of sex (Mark xii. 25 and 26), are abolished."

-- Albert Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical Jesus (London: Charles Black, 1954), p. 364.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Contra Bart Ehrman, Albert Schweitzer Thought It Entirely Plausible That Jesus Thought He Was The Coming Son Of Man

'The Baptist appears, and cries: "Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." Soon after that comes Jesus, and in the knowledge that he is the coming Son of Man lays hold of the wheel of the world to set it moving on that last revolution which is to bring all ordinary history to a close. It refuses to turn, and He throws Himself upon it. Then it does turn; and crushes Him. Instead of bringing in the eschatological conditions, He has destroyed them. The wheel rolls onward, and the mangled body of the one immeasurably great man, who was strong enough to think of Himself as the spiritual ruler of mankind and to bend history to His purpose, is hanging upon it still. That is His victory and His reign.'

-- Albert Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical Jesus, 3rd ed., tr. W. Montgomery, London, 1954, pp. 368f.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Bart Ehrman Is Mistaken To Think Jesus Thought The Son Of Man Was Someone Other Than Himself

Here is Bart Ehrman most recently on this subject:

And [Jesus] talked about someone else, rather than himself, as the coming Son of Man. ... His message is about the coming kingdom to be brought by the Son of Man. He always keeps himself out of it. ... I have already argued that he did not consider himself to be the Son of Man, and so he did not consider himself to be the heavenly angelic being who would be the judge of the earth. 


Against this Mark 2:10f is plain enough:


But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (he saith to the sick of the palsy,) I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house.


Of course, Ehrman evidently discounts the authenticity of this and similar sayings on the grounds of their character as miracle stories, but as Albert Schweitzer taught us long ago, the thorough-going eschatological interpretation means that we can accept the presentations of both Matthew and Mark pretty much as they are without doing serious violence to them.
 
Of course, there are other self-referential examples which are not miracle stories.
 
And it came to pass, that, as they went in the way, a certain man said unto him, Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest. And Jesus said unto him, Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. 
 
-- Luke 9:57f.


To be clear, Ehrman is right to stress that it was God who would initiate the events of the heavenly appearance of the Son of Man to execute judgment on the world, not Jesus. Indeed, Jesus is completely passive in this regard throughout the Gospels (which incidentally completely nullifies the zealot hypothesis), and even right up to the bitter end, only giving up it seems on the cross: "My God, My God, Why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46/Mark 15:34). The problem of how Jesus still imagined himself in this role of Son of Man even as he tells the high priest at his trial that the high priest would see the Son of Man coming on the clouds remains nearly insoluble, not to mention that the subsequent Johannine interpretation and the presentation of the exalted Jesus in Acts performing the comparatively most trivial, even superstitious, divine interventions completely reject it. But the value of Schweitzer's original conceptualization is that Jesus thought this way at several points during his ministry but remained undeterred by events which showed him that he was mistaken, especially early on in Matthew 10 when he thought the end would come before the disciples had finished going throughout Israel on their mission trip (an expectation by the way which is completely incompatible with a suffering servant of the later passion narrative and for that reason absolutely remarkable for its survival as witness to Jesus' original self-conception). And then it seems Jesus expected it again on his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, only to be disappointed again, and then in the Garden of Gethsemane when he boasts that he could call down the heavenly legions, and then finally at his trial. But in all instances Jesus holds himself back as it were, dare we say it, the way only a crazed fanatic does when faced with the immediate improbability of his own false expectation.

There is more than a hint of mental illness in all of this, which many people suffering from bipolar disorder will instantly recognize. And we can see Jesus' progeny in the many end-time enthusiasts of our own time, whose message often attracts a certain sort of personality.

It is not meant as an insult to someone worshipped as a god, nor to his worshippers.

Desperate times produce extremes of their own, for which we should above all show compassionate understanding. 





Wednesday, November 27, 2013

William Lane Craig Doubts The Accuracy Of Matthew's Presentation Of Jesus' Apocalyptic Sayings

When the evidence is uncomfortable, if you can't trim it, cast doubt on it.

Here (italics mine):

Matthew blends in with Jesus’ mission charge to the twelve disciples certain prophecies about the end times, about the coming of the Son of Man. So you get a verse like Matthew 10:23, “When they persecute you in one town, flee to the next; for truly, I say to you, you will not have gone through all the towns of Israel, before the Son of man comes.” Originally this was probably a saying about the end of the world, the coming of the Son of Man; but here Matthew has woven it into this mission discourse to the Twelve. ... [B]y putting this saying in this context, Matthew makes it sound as if Jesus is saying to the twelve disciples, “Before you have gone through all the towns of the Israel, the coming of the Son of Man will occur.”

This is a perfect illustration of my contention. If Matthew 10:23 did not mean that the Son of Man was going to come again before the mission of the Twelve was over, there is no reason to think that Matthew 24:34 means that the Son of Man is going to come again within the first generation. We can’t be sure how this saying was originally given or what its context was. ...

But now look at how Matthew handles this verse in Matthew 16:28. Here Matthew, telling of this same event, rewords it. Remember, they didn’t have quotation marks. This is paraphrased. Here is Matthew’s way of putting it: “Truly, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom.” Now that does [italics original] sound as if they are going to see the return of the Son of Man in their own lifetime! But we know that Matthew is paraphrasing this passage in Mark 9:1, which doesn’t really say that. Matthew is passing it on in a somewhat different way. This case again illustrates my point. These sayings may have a very different meaning in their original context. Someone who only knew Matthew 16:28 might well think that Jesus is saying, “There are people here who will not die before they see my parousia,” but when you read Mark 9:1, that is not at all obvious.

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At least with Albert Schweitzer's interpretation, Matthew and Mark are allowed to stand as reliable presentations of (failed) apocalyptic.

So who's the "conservative", William Lane Craig, or Albert Schweitzer?

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Stephen Prothero Asks The Most Important Question About Reza Aslan's Book ZEALOT

Here in The Washington Post:

What are we to make of Jesus’s apparent lack of interest in doing anything practical whatsoever to prepare for holy war? If he has come to fight for “a real kingdom, with an actual king,” where are his soldiers and their weapons? And why no battle plan?


The reason this is the most important question about the book is that its answer, which Prothero does not provide, exposes the false choice between a Jesus who is a political revolutionary, the argument of Aslan's book, and a Jesus who is the founder of a spiritual religion whose kingdom is not of this world, the argument of most Christians and especially of the Fourth Gospel.


As an apocalyptic preacher, Jesus' thorough-going eschatology fully expected God to handle the practical details of the holy war to end all holy wars, a war which was coming imminently, when the Son of Man would descend from heaven with a shout and the angels of God would gather up the wicked in bundles and cast them into the eternal flames, and God would install his holy one on the throne of God in a heavenly Jerusalem descended from heaven to earth on the very spot where the temple of Herod once stood, its stones not left one upon another.

The framework for this interpretation was first erected by Albert Schweitzer about a century ago, and while a fair number of New Testament scholars continue to build on his work, like James Tabor and Dale Allison, Reza Aslan is not one of them.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Dull Humanitarianism At Blog and Mablog

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The dull humanitarianism of contemporary Christianity came up here recently, humorously (to me anyway) attacking itself in a mirror:

What I mean is this — many who claim to love Jesus with their theology hate the poor with their economics, and I think we should stop being okay with that. I frankly think we should knock it off — the gospel is not some airy fairy thing that fails to apply to how people have to live out their actual lives. When Jesus taught us to feed the poor, instead of turning their place of habitation into a desolation, this necessarily excludes every form of Keynesianism.

This swipe at the left's hypocrisy is hypocritical and blind in its own way, but it is difficult to appreciate it when we are captives of an historical moment full of unexamined assumptions and unresolved historical contradictions and loyalties. For one thing, it can be demonstrated that neither side in this debate loves "Jesus with their theology". Unfortunately, their love of him picks and chooses what it wants from "his" teaching just as they pick and choose whom to help from the poor. And for another, polite discussion of the poor amongst Christians left and right these days merely objectifies, patronizes and condescends to the poor, so that a great gulf yet remains fixed between them and the poor.

Take the statement, "When Jesus taught us to feed the poor". That's a nice sounding phrase which no one on either side finds objectionable, except that Jesus didn't teach us to feed the poor. Unfortunately this is not only the accepted and false premise of Christians left and right, but it has become the accepted and false premise of our entire politics, and it is wrong. What are the poor, dogs, who once fed get to go gamboling on their way? And who are we then but their owners?

Yes, Jesus fed the 5,000 (Matthew 14:21; Mark 6:44; Luke 9:14) and the 4,000 (Matthew 15:38; Mark 8:9) and spoke very positively of the poor and very negatively of the rich, even though the poor who hung on his every word he addressed as "you who are evil" (Matthew 7:11; Luke 11:13). But nowhere do you get from Jesus' teaching a programmatic statement like that, which is surprising when you have a Sermon on the Mount or a Sermon on the Plain replete with programmatic statements of all sorts. You know, like "Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow from you" (Matthew 5:42; Luke 6:30).
 
How many times have I heard from Christian pulpits that one should not give money to people who beg on the streets because they'll just "use it to buy liquor"? Isn't that what we use ours for?

If there is any programmatic statement of Jesus ignored by all and sundry today it is the very basic one you were likely to hear from Jesus every time he showed up in a new venue and set up his soap box:

Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up the cross, and follow me.  
 
-- Mark 10:21; Matthew 19:21; Luke 18:22

No, far from being "some airy fairy thing that fails to apply to how people have to live," Jesus expected his followers, as a condition of discipleship, actually to stop living as they "have to" and demonstrate repentance by the act of wealth liquidation and divestiture to the poor, and by becoming poor themselves. In other words, Jesus demanded that his followers change places with the poor and turn their own "actual lives" into a "habitation" of "desolation". This is repentance as reversal, a literal turning upside down of every thing, every relationship, every obligation.

Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of the kingdom of God, And saying, The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe the gospel.
 
-- Mark 1:14f.

This point cannot be stressed enough. Jesus demanded that people divest themselves of everything that they are and have as the way to "fill the hungry with good things", and, more to the point, become poor themselves and escape the wrath that is to come, and come soon.

When was the last time you heard a Christian talking like that, especially in the "Bible-believing" churches which promote both Biblical inerrancy and free-market capitalism? Christians are supposed to take personal responsibility for the poor, sell everything they have, and give it to them.
 
I think the last time I heard anything remotely like this was from Anthony Quinn as the pope in The Shoes of the Fisherman. Needless to say, I've frequented liberal Methodist churches and witnessed the dull humanitarianism at its best, which is indeed impressive in its way, but it's still what it is. Those Methodists still have a place to lay their heads at night, and money to go out to lunch together on Sundays after church. And they all have churches, and indeed keep building more of them, maintaining them, heating them, cooling them and filling them with very noisy machines to entertain themselves with.

Divestiture of everything one has, owns and is, dare I say including even all social connections and their obligations, is now the lost meaning of repentance in the teaching of Jesus. Very few people are familiar with this anymore in America, except for some priests and members of monastic orders who actually take vows of poverty.
 
Writing way back in the early 1930s one Oswald Spengler observed that this understanding was already then long lost in Europe, and goes on at some length to show how this original doctrine of Christian renunciation as a moral doctrine was replaced with materialist philosophy by the church itself in the wake of the Enlightenment. One cannot help but think that had Europe's Christians actually practiced their faith instead of selling-out wholesale to materialism there might not have been a Great War. And of course not long after Spengler died Europe exploded again, proving one more time that its Christianity was a complete fraud, just as ours is today.

To repent includes sorrow over personal sinfulness and what it has done to other people, to be sure, but nothing so ephemeral as an emotion can encompass the true meaning of repentance as Jesus understood it. Unfortunately, however, emotion epitomizes the current understanding of Christianity in the West. It is nothing but an evanescent, psychological phenomenon.
 
To Jesus, by contrast, to repent is actually a physical turning away from the direction in which one is going, which is the conventional way of the world, the way of the many, the easy way which leads to the certain destruction which comes upon you in your sleep after you sat up late planning to build bigger barns to hold all your gain (Luke 12:18). You know, physically turning away from your house, your job, your 401k. And your beautiful wife and children, and the dog. With all these goods Jesus expected one to make a sort of restitution when repenting and following him, a settling up of accounts so to speak, in addition to getting rid of the entangling alliances they involve, and rely wholly and utterly on God for his salvation.

The cost of this discipleship in the teaching of Jesus is the same for everyone, whether rich or poor or in-between: 100% of one's very self and all that that means. From the ruler whose possessions were so very great that he went away sorrowful (Matthew 19:22; Mark 10:22; Luke 18:23) instead of giving them all away to the poor and following Jesus, to the disciples who complained (!) that they had in fact left everything and followed him (they had: Matthew 19:27; Mark 10:28; Luke 18:28), to the old widow who inconspicuously (to everyone but Jesus) put into the Temple alms box just two mites (which constituted "her whole life" Mark 12:44 says), there is nothing which may be held back by anyone no matter what their station in life. And lest we forget, that goes for the poor, too, who often cling to the mean, squalid conditions of their existence as tenaciously as the rich cling to theirs.

Like death, Jesus' call to discipleship is the great equalizer of humanity, wherein all the distinctions of human existence bleed away into nothing. Not obeying this call will get you turned into a pillar of salt like Lot's wife, or laid out at room temperature as Ananias and Sapphira found out. The repentant will escape the coming judgment, but they are few, and those who turn back from the plough, or go home first to say goodbye, or insist that the obligation to bury a dead relative has priority, these are many, and it is they who get taken for tares by the suddenly appearing Reaper Angels of the Last Judgment, are gathered up with all who do iniquity and bundled together with all those who offend, and are thrown into the fire. Which is when the meek finally inherit the earth.

The repentance doctrine of Jesus survives in its starkest form in an unlikely place, the Gospel of Luke, where kingdom interpretations "already realized" and "not yet realized" clash in the same long historical narrative and form a sort of interpretive bridge between the kingdom coming-now-before-even-Israel-is-fully-evangelized idea found in Matthew 10 (and assumed in Mark) and the kingdom relegated-to-the heavenly-realms idea of the much later Fourth Gospel:

So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.  
 
--Luke 14:33

It doesn't get much plainer than that.

But it occurred to somebody along the way that there was a certain moral inconsistency in the teaching of Jesus which became difficult to resolve in the years after Jesus' death. This had everything to do with the historical inconsistency, the failure of the coming kingdom "now" idea which Jesus entertained throughout his career right up to the bitter end of his tragic life. After the kingdom failed to arrive during the mission of The Twelve as he famously but mistakenly predicted in Matthew 10, Jesus nevertheless continued to believe in it, as Albert Schweitzer first showed us long ago. The debacle of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem may be another example of it, where he made a big show in the Temple but got such an unexpected response that he had to use crowds by day and escape out of the city under cover of darkness by night for his own personal safety. And Mark shows Jesus still angling at the very last moment for a dramatic finish when at his trial Jesus tells the high priest that the high priest himself will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven (Mark 14:62).

It was not to be.

This coming kingdom "now" idea eventually got pushed back to a "coming back soon" idea in the form of Christ's return from heaven, as in St. Paul, to the point that mockers arose by the end of the first century saying "Where is the promise of his coming?" (II Peter 3:4). The Fourth Gospel came to the rescue just at this moment, complete with a Holy Spirit who revealed the real gospel, to give us a Savior who descended from heaven, instead of a Davidic King who brought us a restored monarchy of Old Testament prophecy and the Rule of God in a "kingdom come". This Eternal Logos of John's invention accomplished his work of redeeming humanity, and ascended once again to prepare a place for all who believe, helpfully omitting all the urgency implied by an impending end of the world, or even of an imminent second coming.

So in this context what do you suppose would happen to a doctrine of total renunciation predicated on the imminent end of the world? Of course it would get pushed aside just to avoid having to explain that Jesus was just a little off about the timing of the Apocalypse. But it is at once a measure of the thoroughness of our sources that they should still preserve the memory of it, as it is evidence of the deep respect with which Jesus' teaching was held, however difficult to integrate it might have been, Holy Spirit guiding into all truth notwithstanding (John 16:13).

The moral problem, I think, is less well appreciated. In the context of an imminently coming end of the world, suddenly saddling the poor with riches arguably could be justified on the grounds that the possessions wouldn't have time to corrupt them. The world would end too soon and be transformed for the no longer poor to succumb to the temptations. But introduce delay and now Jesus' teaching could possibly be guilty of hanging millstones around their necks which would keep them out of the kingdom of heaven forever (Matthew 19:23f.; Mark 10:23ff.; Luke 18:24f.).

Under such circumstances there was every reason to minimize the renunciation doctrine found in the Synoptics in favor of the new perspective enunciated in John where Jesus now merely says "the poor ye have always with you" (John 12:8). In John the poor still exist, but the rich no longer do.
 
Few appreciate that in that new framing the Evangelist has now put the objectification of the poor into the mouth of Jesus, as if Jesus and The Twelve are no longer to be identified as one and the same as the poor. No, now the followers of Jesus aren't the poor; they have the poor and are distinct from them in a way which is foreign to the equalizing message of the historical Jesus from the Synoptics in which the followers of Jesus become one with the poor. This also means that the world isn't going to end anytime soon, there will always be rich people and there will always be poor people just as there have always been, and really the only important thing now is the Savior, the Heavenly Redeemer, on whom rich ointment may indeed be lavished (John 12:3), or later . . . on his Vicar on earth, the pope. In that vignette from the Fourth Gospel is the birth of the church as charitable organization, following on the pattern of Jesus and The Twelve it presents, and gone is the directive to become poor. Rather, as that Gospel famously concludes, the directive now is that Peter "feed my sheep" with the gospel, with which the church is now rich.

Consider that according to John Jesus' followers kind of got left holding the bag quite literally when Jesus left them behind. For something like three years, or perhaps eighteen months on John's chronology, they had depended on the almsgiving of the people as they followed the man expecting God's kingdom to arrive at any minute. Judas was their Treasurer and kept "the purse". From it they not only paid their own expenses, but from it they themselves gave to "the poor". As givers of alms themselves and encouragers of same, the focus now turned to them in the absence of Jesus and they began to attract the poor as the place where the poor could beg and not be refused, just as Jesus taught. Soon The Twelve were transformed into the leaders of a self-perpetuating poverty relief machine as the poor, and the donations, kept rolling in.

So yes, the church repented Jesus' definition of repentance, and made its accommodation with the world. To that extent it may be decided by left and right in the church today that there is a basis for its materialist view of life and that they have a right to argue about the relative merits of various "economics" as if it were a category separate from "theology". The man they claim to worship, however, demonstrably had a different opinion of the matter.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Long lay the world in sin and error pining, but no more?

The irony of those lines penned by John Sullivan Dwight in 1855 is the horrible, bloody history of the world which soon followed in their wake, mocking them more loudly with every passing decade, from the American War Between The States through the murderous World Wars right on to the present-day, but purposely-ignored, inhumanities of man in Africa, China and the United States.

Yes, in the United States, where over 50 million unborn have been slaughtered in the last 40 years while we go about our business, often go to church and generally think we enjoy ourselves, and Francis Fukuyama tells us with a straight face that thankfully we no longer engage as a species in montrous projects of social transformation.

People who say, as this one does, a Roman Catholic named Howard Kainz, that the world is no longer in the condition it had been in for most of human history because in the Church God provided a firm basis for Christian life do not have their eyes open to the sorry facts of the world. Religious denial of reality is no less pernicious than the ideological sort, say, of Marxism, which may have something to do with the fact that the former often prepares the way for the latter.

If we are not still in sin and error pining I don't know who ever was, or why or how they were ever redeemed from it. If the fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, it is not self-evident that we have it (Psalm 111:10; Proverbs 9:10).

The Protestants, at least, helped begin the process of recovering the reality of man's sorry state, beginning with Luther's open hostility to the denial of reality implicit in the Catholic tradition, most famously that in the purchase of absolution a spiritual difference was made between the one who bought it and the one who didn't. If the Catholics are still afraid of this all these years later, as Kainz is, they are right to be, because Protestantism actually means death to all such ideology, if but for the fact that it has succumbed to it itself. Carried through to its logical conclusion, Protestantism would finally detect in Christianity's own origin the denial of reality which is the seed of its own destruction, but by and large this has not happened except among some academics, starting with Albert Schweitzer, whose long but thin line of followers bears witness to the recalcitrant inelasticity of human nature. 

If we were to be honest brokers of the essential message of Jesus, we would admit that it is followed by next to no one claiming the name Christian because it cannot be, at least for very long, not without being possessed of the fundamental conviction that God is about to bring the world to final judgment: 

Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.
 
-- Matthew 3:2; 4:17; Mark 1:15 

Christians today run away from that message and all the texts in the Gospels which support it, not in the least because Jesus was tragically mistaken about the future, as disappointed true believers perennially discover. To have anything to do with it is to associate error with deity, and this cannot be allowed, for the obvious reason. But Christians also run away from true repentance because if it were followed, they would not be able to utter all this nonsense about leading "the Christian life" while holding down jobs, paying off mortgages, entering into marriages, raising families, enjoying relative ease and saving for a "safe" retirement.

So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.
 
-- Luke 14:33 

To repent would mean turning one's back on all this, on one's former way of life, with a desperate urgency which does not exist.

But God said unto him, [Thou] fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided?
 
-- Luke 12:20 

Accordingly the urgency has been transformed in the wake of the failure, spiritualized, internalized and specialized, as in the special calling to monasticism practiced by the few, but even that is now nearly forgotten, its last bastion the priest's call to celibacy. Luther himself was close to the original understanding, though he did not follow it himself and thus contributed to the continuation of its "spiritualization":

And take they our life, goods, fame, child and wife, Let these all be gone, they yet have nothing won; The kingdom ours remaineth.
 
-- Martin Luther, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God (1529) 

Faint echoes of this message have been heard in living memory, for example in the popular 1965 film "The Sound of Music" where we see a young woman torn between her feelings of love for a man and her desire to renounce the world, not for an imminently coming kingdom and judgment, but for a life closer to God in the convent.

In 1933 Oswald Spengler reflected correctly on this residuum of the original teaching, now divorced from its apocalyptic setting in the modern "spiritualized" consensus, that 

Christian morality is, like every morality, renunciation and nothing else. Those who do not feel it to be so are materialists. "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread" means: do not regard this hard meaning of life as misery and seek to circumvent it by party politics.

But if the Marxists try to circumvent the "hard meaning of life" by party politics, the Christians try to circumvent it with their notions of the realized kingdom of God in the Church and its sacraments, where the vagaries of existence are spiritualized away into a denial of reality no less mendacious than the failed achievements of Soviet five year plans.

We are no closer to becoming Peter's partakers of the divine nature (II Peter 1:4) than we are to Trotsky's superman who will become incomparably stronger, wiser, more subtle.

The way forward for people of faith is to stop denying reality, and to begin by saying, "God be merciful to me, a poor, sinful being" (Luke 18:13; Luther's Small Catechism; Confession of Sins, Lutheran Liturgy).

The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.         

-- Psalm 51:17 

Monday, July 6, 2009

Pick Your Poison

Sunday's sermon was based on 2 Corinthians 12:1 ff., but what caught my attention was the Gospel appointed for the day, from Mark 6:1 ff., where Jesus sends out the disciples "by two and two," commanding them to take "nothing for their journey, save a staff only" and to "be shod with sandals."

The parallel in Matthew 10 contradicts these details, where Jesus says "provide . . . neither shoes, nor yet staves . . ." (vss.9-10), whereas Luke fails to mention the staves altogether, but agrees with Matthew about the footwear (10:4).

Neither Mark nor Luke represent the episode in the explicit eschatological terms which thoroughly infuse Matthew's parallel account. Indeed, Matthew transfers much of the eschatological imagery and language which Mark reserves for the yet somewhat distant time of his "little apocalypse" in Mark 13 into a much earlier period of the ministry of Jesus. In Matthew 10:23 Jesus says, "For verily I say unto you, Ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the Son of man be come." This latter is the startling saying which so preoccupied the imagination of Albert Schweitzer's Quest of the Historical Jesus. As such these differences are a reminder of how the author of Matthew is at pains to correct the record of Mark. Luke also does this in his own way and at a later date, and openly states it as his aim in providing his own orderly and accurate account, the existence of other similar declarations of the gospel (presumably Mark and Matthew) notwithstanding (Luke 1:1 ff.). The Synoptics thus represent a stream of tradition worked and reworked because of perceived but unstated deficiencies, the fact of which underscores the importance of the work of redaction criticism and of the need to let the individual compositions speak for themselves and be understood on their own terms as much as is possible.

Every critic will have his favorite problem texts from the Bible. One of mine is from 2 Peter 2:6-8 where the reader is reminded about righteous Lot, who "vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlawful deeds" in Sodom and Gomorrah. Jesus is made to recount this story of Lot's escape from God's judgment on those cities in Luke 17:28 ff. But neither author seems to be in the least bothered by the seamy conclusion of the story in Genesis 19 whereby "both the daughters of Lot" were "with child by their father" (vs. 36). Having lost their husbands (!) to the fire from heaven and being unable to find new ones in their mountain hideaway, they got their father senseless drunk (on successive evenings, at least) to get children by him without his knowledge. The apples don't fall far from the pillar of salt, so to speak. What a family.

And never mind the internal problems with the story in Genesis 19. Are the daughters virgins (vs. 8) even though they have husbands (vs. 14)? Or has some considerable but unstated period of time intervened? Lot at length finds himself in difficult straights, barricaded in his house, but does a righteous man offer to throw his own flesh and blood to a mob of rapists in the street to protect the messengers of God within? It's as if none of this is known, or matters, to the authors of 2 Peter and Luke.

Another wonder is the famous example from Titus 1:12 f., which approvingly quotes the ancient maxim "The Cretans are alway liars." If you need a proof text for stereotyping an ethnic group, there you have it. Some say such reputations were justly deserved, however politically incorrect it may be today to say so openly. But it is hard to imagine the Paul of the Epistle to the Romans saying such a thing: "If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men" (12:18).

Some problems are more serious than others, for example, the difficulty with identifying Cyrenius the governor of Syria from Luke 2:1 f. It bears repeating, however, that such problems are not unique to the Bible. Tacitus' understanding of the Jews in his Histories is riddled with mistakes, but we don't give up in despair of learning from him about matters nearer to Rome because of it. It should more often be considered that the weaknesses we discover on the page are more nearly a reflection of our own, and tell us more about the human condition than we care to admit, the theme of the sermon, had I been paying better attention.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Missing the Point

In no church at the present day where the Lord's Supper is offered is there even a memory of its original meaning.

This is hardly surprising when one considers that the meaning of the meal was already being lost in the middle of the first century, less than three decades since the death of Jesus. Despite the efforts of modern scholarship to recover it, most notably at the hands of Albert Schweitzer over a century ago in The Quest of the Historical Jesus, the situation in the churches today remains pretty much as it was in the nineteenth century, to the end of which Schweitzer had summed up the situation. But we ourselves aren't just nineteenth century liberals in this regard. We are still first century Corinthians.

Far from being a meal whereby grace was thought to be transmitted to the believing recipient who now resided comfortably in the kingdom of God the church, the meal was instead supposed to represent an occasion for proclamation of a message marked by earnest expectation of something not yet realized, the presence of Jesus: "For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death till he come" (1 Cor. 11:26). It was not a question of the Real Presence, but of the future presence. This longing for the Lord's imminent return had received its inspiration from the eschatological message of Jesus itself, but that message was already in the process of being reinterpreted and was losing its original force. Otherwise the Corinthians would not have inquired of Paul about it, as 1 Cor. 7:1 shows, and Paul would not have so replied.

Close inspection of the correspondence shows that Paul was disdainful of the demeanor of some of the Corinthians, based in part on the false assumption of some who thought that the kingdom of God had already come in some sense. Paul even mocks them for it: "And what hast thou that thou didst not receive? Now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it? Now ye are full, now ye are rich, ye have reigned as kings without us: and I would to God ye did reign, that we also might reign with you" (1 Cor. 4:7-8). But the fact was, they didn't reign, and neither did Paul. As far as Paul was concerned, all the posturing of the Corinthians amounted to nothing but words. If they wanted to see evidence of the kingdom of God, he would come and show it to them in his capacity as an apostle of Jesus Christ, not in words, but in power (1 Cor.4: 19-21). This would not be a meeting of equals, where the outlaw Josey Wales meets Ten Bears.

Eschatological urgency is about the last thing the church wants to talk about today. The subject is too embarrassing, because the data raise uncomfortable questions. This is why one will hardly ever hear a preacher speak candidly about Mark's gospel which introduces Jesus' proclamation of the gospel of the kingdom of God in explicitly eschatological terms: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe the gospel" (Mark 1:15). The coming of the kingdom is so close, in fact, "that there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death, till they have seen the kingdom of God come with power" (Mark 9:1). Jesus himself expects not to eat the Supper after having just instituted it "until that day that I drink it new in the kingdom of God" (Mark 14:25). A Jesus of this sort could be someone who never expected to found a church, let alone a sacrament to sustain it. And based upon the relentless unfolding of history and the stubborn failure of it to come to a close, such a Jesus might possibly have been mistaken that the coming kingdom was just around the corner. The church already had had to respond to such questions by the time of the composition of 2 Peter: "There shall come in the last days scoffers . . . saying 'Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation'" (3:3-4).

The rationalization of the data which is now routine in most of Christendom prattles on about "the already and the not yet," wanting to have it both ways because that's what history has forced the church to do. The standard line of retreat is to assert that "the realized dimension of the kingdom of God is incomplete apart from the death-resurrection of Jesus and the coming of the Spirit" (R. H. Stein, The Method and Message of Jesus' Teachings, John Knox, 1995, p. 111). Paul would by no means acknowledge to the Corinthians a realized dimension of the kingdom in such terms. And if the ethics of Jesus as expressed in the gospels are sometimes too extreme, they also must be tamed in service of the hermeneutical expedient. "The ethic of Jesus is not an emergency ethic based on the nearness of the end" (Stein, p. 98). Accordingly, whatever does not fit the pre-conceived schema must not be universal ("Let the dead bury their dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God" Luke 9:60), or is a literary device of hyperbolic overstatement ("If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple" Luke 14:26). The multiplication of examples similar to these would only serve to underscore that there is a great deal of data which must be explained away.

Were it not for the fact that a piece of correspondence from Paul to the Christians at Corinth survived to become part of what we call the New Testament, we would know even less about the "sacramental" meal than we already do from the Synoptic gospels. More pointedly, however, were it not for the fact that the Corinthians had written a letter to Paul, which does not survive, asking him a number of questions about a variety of subjects, what we call First Corinthians would not have been written in response in the first place. Far from being everything we need to know to live our lives in Christ, the letters of Paul preserve but a matter of fact glimpse into the thought world of early Christianity.