Mount and Mountain

Welcome to Mount and Mountain

2010-03-17T09:04:00.000-07:00

This blog features a conversation between Rabbi Rami Shapiro and Dr. Mike Smith, a Christian pastor. Please feel free to add your comments to our conversation. However, it is our goal to turn this blog into a book, and to incorporate some of your posted comments as sidebars. By posting on this blog you are giving us explicit permission to use your comments in any form this book may take. Our goal is to post new material each Tuesday.

Mike: Closing Comments

2009-07-16T08:01:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the genesis of "Mount and Mountain?" We fell to talking about how we might partner to write about the Ten Commandments and The Sermon on the Mount. We knew, I think, what we did not want to attempt: yet another doctrinal study, diatribe, or something suitable only for academics. Instead, we wanted to practice and model a genuine conversation between two friends from quite different yet historically intertwined religious traditions.

At some point in the conversation, one of us mentioned reading the collected letters of a well known author from another era. Many of the letters featured the author's ongoing conversations with close friends. The conversations ranged over a host of topics. Each matter received serious treatment. Sometimes the author or his correspondent changed their minds in light of a given argument. More often, they simply enriched one another's thought and deepened their understanding and appreciation for one another.

We knew we had found our model. So began the exchange which became Mount and Mountain.

I've learned a few things along the way.

First, I believe you're correct. Trusted friends reading, wrestling with, and commenting on each other's sacred texts may prove to be the most fruitful model for interfaith conversation in the years to come. For one thing, friendship may enable us to hear some things we would rather not hear! Perhaps friendship should become the prerequiste to interfaith conversation.

Second, our two voices did emerge and take on consistency, even as we sought to remain open to one another's insights. We often discovered that we have much in common, especially with regard to the power of story, ethical and other practical applications of a given text, and recognition of the complexity of humans. Differences also emerged, ranging from the nature of God and the identity of Jesus, to how hard to press a metaphor.

Third, I suspect our respect for and knowledge of one another's traditions grew. The journey taught us, I think, that we need one another's perspective(s)if we are to find our way through our complicated lives and complex world.

Thank you, Rami, for investing so much of yourself in the conversation. No doubt, the two of us will continue the conversatin, albeit in other ways.

Rami: Closing Comments

2009-07-08T06:39:00.000-07:00

At the heart of rabbinic Judaism is the notion that the reader co-creates the text with the author. While it may be that the Torah comes from God, its meaning comes from us. I am not inclined to take this literally. I don’t think God writes books. But as a metaphor it is a very powerful insight.

There are some texts that come from the highest levels of human spiritual consciousness, pointing (given the limitations of the author’s time, space, and cultural biases) directly to timeless principles that need to be applied in each generation. We have been dealing with two of these texts: the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount. While each speaks in a specific language, Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek, and to a specific people, the Jews, both boldly articulate some of the timeless principles by which all peoples in all times can live effectively with love, compassion, and justice.

What made this project so rich for me, Mike, was having the opportunity to hear these texts filtered through your heart and mind. If it is true that we co-create the texts we read by interpreting them in light of our own experience and knowledge (as well as our own ignorance and bias), then the pleasure I have found in reading these texts with you was in discovering your version of them.

But there is something else to be found in these blog posts, something that is far more important.

Interfaith dialogue is not new, but most of it takes place on the level of doctrine. Rarely do you find people of different faiths reading one another’s holy books together. Granted, the Ten Commandments are no less a part of Christianity than they are of Judaism, our traditions do understand them differently. And when it comes to the Sermon on the Mount, the rarity and import of our dialogue becomes all the more clear.

What I hope we have modeled here is a new avenue for interfaith conversation: trusted friends reading, wrestling with, and commenting on each other’s sacred texts. I would like to see this repeated over and over again with clergy and texts from as broad a religious spectrum as can be mustered.

When we started this project so many months ago I had no idea where it would take us, and I have been surprised by some of the avenues we have travelled together. I was also taken with how clearly our two voices emerged. There is a consistency in our respective approaches that reflects the fundamental differences between our traditions, and yet suggests that no one way is sufficient. We balanced one another, I think, and did so in ways that enriched my understanding of the text and our traditions.

It has been a blessing and an honor to work on this with you, Mike. What’s next?

Rami: Response To Mike's 6/30 Post

2009-07-01T05:46:00.000-07:00

God is a gardener? No way! Genesis 2:4-5, “When the LORD God made earth and heaven— when no shrub of the field was yet on earth and no grasses of the field had yet sprouted, because the LORD God had not sent rain upon the earth and there was no earthling to till the earth.” So much for God the Gardener. God had to invent that job and then create humanity to do it. Enough levity, on the text.

•••

I cannot read this parable of the builders without thinking that Jesus is retelling the teaching found in the prophet Ezekiel (13:10-16 NRSV):

“Because, in truth, because they have misled my people, saying, “Peace,” when there is no peace; and because, when the people build a wall, these prophets smear whitewash on it. Say to those who smear whitewash on it that it shall fall. There will be a deluge of rain, great hailstones will fall, and a stormy wind will break out. When the wall falls, will it not be said to you, “Where is the whitewash you smeared on it?” Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: In my wrath I will make a stormy wind break out, and in my anger there shall be a deluge of rain, and hailstones in wrath to destroy it. I will break down the wall that you have smeared with whitewash, and bring it to the ground, so that its foundation will be laid bare; when it falls, you shall perish within it; and you shall know that I am the LORD. Thus I will spend my wrath upon the wall, and upon those who have smeared it with whitewash; and I will say to you, The wall is no more, nor those who smeared it— the prophets of Israel who prophesied concerning Jerusalem and saw visions of peace for it, when there was no peace, says the Lord GOD.”

The “whitewash” is a coating that gives the illusion of strength, like the houses of those who build on sand.

Jesus rabbinic contemporaries made the same point. In Avot de Rabbi Nathan Rabbi Elisha ben Avuyah says, “A man who does good deeds and diligently studies Torah is like a man building a house with a stone foundation and a shingled roof… When a flood comes the house does not move. But a man who studies and yet does evil, is like one who builds a house with shingles for a foundation and rock for a roof. Even a slight rain causes the house to collapse” (Avot de Rabbi Nathan, 24).

What interests me is that Jesus is, like the rabbis before and after him, preaching the gospel of the deed rather than the gospel of faith. It isn’t enough to hear the words of Jesus or even to believe them, one must live them, do them, for it is our action that is the rock while mere faith is sand. Luke makes the point even more clearly when his Jesus says anyone who hears his words and lives them is like the builder whose foundation is rock, but anyone who hears his words and does not live them is building a house on sand (Luke 6:47-49).

Most of us build on sand.

The closing part of the Sermon is challenging to me personally: “Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.” (Matthew 7:24-28, NRSV)
The first thing I notice here is that Matthew seems to have forgotten that Jesus withdrew from the crowd and spoke the Sermon to his inner circle: “When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them,” i.e. the disciples, not the crowd (Matthew 5:1-2).

If this is true, the crowd never heard the Sermon on the Mount, and this closing line is a later editorial gloss added to the text to highlight the idea (false in my opinion) that Jesus taught something drastically new. While Jesus puts his own unique spin on his teachings, he is still teaching Torah whether or not Jews and Christians want to admit it.

As to his manner of teaching, Jesus does violate a major tenet of Judaism: cite your source. While rabbis can be very innovative in their interpretations of scripture and law, we consider it an act of respect to honor those teachers who came before us by citing their teachings in their name. This continues today. We delight in showing the evolution of our thinking by quoting our teachers even when we know we are going to put a spin on the teaching that these teachers never imagined and with which they might not even agree.

So, yes, Jesus’ seeming lack of respect for his rabbis would shock people. It still bothers me today, which is why I spent much of our conversation citing sources that may have been in Jesus’ mind when he taught. I say his “seeming” lack of respect because it is hard for me to imagine him not citing sources. It was and is such a central part of rabbinic culture that I cannot help but believe that Jesus did honor his rabbis and that the Gospel writers simply chose not to include those references.

The reason why the Gospel writers would make this choice is not hard to fathom. To them Jesus was not speaking for an ancient tradition but for God, perhaps as God. God is the source of these teachings, and since God is speaking them there is no reason to cite sources. If they were to include the early teachings from which Jesus shaped his own message this would tie Jesus too strongly to Judaism and make the emergence of a largely non-Jewish church all the more difficult. Once again, politics shapes religion.

• • •

I like way you sum up your take on the Sermon, Mike. You seem to suggest it is, in today’s world no less than the world of Jesus’ time, counter-cultural. I heartily agree. What would it be like if people built their homes on rock and actually lived the Sermon, rather than build on the sands of power, politics, and the theological veneer that seeks to pass these off as religion?

Prophetic religion should always be counter-cultural when the culture is rooted in exploitation, greed, ignorance, anger, and violence. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all started out as counter-cultural revolutions and each ended up as the bearers of culture and excusers of the violence to which their respective cultures fell prey.

I may have mentioned this earlier, but I once watched Larry King interview a panel of Evangelical Pastors on the eve of the second Iraq War. He asked them how they reconciled Jesus’ “Blessed are the peacemakers” with President Bush’s doctrine of pre-emptive war. One of the women on the panel answered him saying, “Our soldiers are the peacemakers. As soon as they kill all our enemies there will be peace.” Couple this with the recent Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life poll that found that 60% of Evangelical Christians supported torture of terror suspects while only 40% of the unchurched did so, and we have to wonder if Christianity is still counter-cultural.

As always, Mike, you are clear and insightful: it does take a leap of faith to embrace and live the teachings of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. The leap is not so much the belief in the divinity of Jesus, but in the possibility of mere humans being capable of living the life he prescribed for us. With the rise of fundamentalism in all three Abrahamic religions I am doubtful that any of us have this faith.

On the contrary, our faith is in the very things Jesus rejected, the very things that are bringing us and our civilization to the brink of disaster. We need to do more than hear the Sermon. We need to live it.

Mike: Matthew 7:24-28

2009-06-30T06:09:00.000-07:00

Aside from your (occasional) penchant to try and treat a metaphor as a subject for scientific inquiry, I think your "improvisational jazz" suggestion is useful. It certainly provides a metaphor of life and creation as experienced in any given moment. When my sense of humor kicks in, I sometimes imagine an encounter with God when all history has played out. He greets us and agrees to take a few questions. When we mention the various music metaphors, God exclaims: "Music! What music? Me, I'm a gardener!"

We've arrived at the final paragraph of the Sermon on the Mount. It reads: "Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on the that house, but it did not fall. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell--and great was the fall." Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes. (Matthew 7:24-28, NRSV)

A childhood chorus first imprinted the story on my mind. Repeating lines about the falling rain and the rising flood, coupled with appropriate body movements, led to a conclusion in which the wise man's house stood but the foolish man's house "came tumbling down." We were easily entertained in that era!

In the context of The Sermon on the Mount, Jesus' words constitute both warning and invitation. Listening to, digesting, attempting to structure life in accordance with his words matters. Many Christians over the centuries have taken the injunction to imply that the Sermon on the Mount is the literary core of Christianity. Those who do so, tend to read the remainder of the gospels and the rest of the New Testament in light of The Sermon on the Mount. In short, the sermon becomes a "canon within the canon."

It's worth recalling how counter-intuitive the sermon feels to most of us. In an era when many, perhaps most, believe safety is found in violence, even pre-emptive violence, the sermon speaks of loving an enemy, of doing unto others as we would have do unto us, and the like. At almost any point in the sermon, we find ourselves confronted by an alternative vision of personal and community life. Frankly, I find it requires a bit of a leap of faith to attempt to embrace and practice the sermon's core teachings.

With regard to the parable itself, it assumes a setting in which heavy rain and floods are rare enough to enourage short-cuts or complacency. The parable's images are heavy-handed, designed to contrast the stark difference between foolishness and wisdom. As I have noted before, it seems to me he draws upon the tradition of the two ways, in this case clothing it in talk of two ways of selecting a home site.

The Sermon on the Mount closes with a summary statement of the crowd's reaction to the entire speech. Christian scholars have invested a great deal of ink and paper in the attempt to understand the text's contrast between the scribes and Jesus approach to teaching. More often than not, they suggest the "scribes" tended to teach on the basis of an inherited tradition, relying on the authority of those cited. The same scholars suggest that Jesus, in contrast, spoke as one with a word from God, whether in a sense similar to that of earlier prophets or as the Messiah. Frankly, I doubt we can discern the gospel writer's intent at this historical distance, other than to say he believed Jesus taught with a authority his listeners found novel.

Rami: Response To Mike's 6/22 Post

2009-06-22T13:07:00.001-07:00

You are right, Mike—metaphors are always risky. Especially when shared between friends who delight in tweaking each other’s metaphors. So, with all due respect, let the tweaking begin.

First, I love the symphonic metaphor. Second, I agree that there are various movements that flow through the piece to create dramatic point-counter point essential to the quality of the music.

I’m not so sure about the conductor. Who would this be? God, I assume, is the composer, and while the composer could also be the conductor, I assume that since you didn’t say that, you didn’t mean that. So maybe Jesus is the conductor. But Jesus, having left the symphony in the hands of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, makes for a poor conductor. So perhaps it is the Spirit who conducts.

Even if we could agree on who the conductor is, we still have the problem of the orchestra rebelling against the conductor’s direction. A good symphony follows the conductor’s lead. If they don’t, the orchestra devolves into chaos and the conductor is out of a job.

Maybe the problem is solved if we shift from symphonic music to improvisational jazz. As I understand it, jazz has a core theme off of which jazz musicians improvise riffs. The riffs cannot ignore the theme, but they may oppose it and offer contrast to it. Such music is often highly discordant, and that would make the metaphor all the more apt. It is also created on the spot. In this metaphor there is no conductor, and God the Composer only sets the theme and waits to see where the musicians will take it. Maybe this is why God refers to himself in Exodus as Ehyeh asher Ehyeh, I will be what I will be. Even God is surprised by where the music goes.

What I like most about the music metaphor (regardless of musical style) is the need for rests and the goal-lessness of play. Music without the silence of the rests is just noise. Organized religion (as opposed to mysticism) makes little room for silence, the deep silence that frees us from the fixed notations of theology and ritual. The music metaphor would allow us to honor the silence more.

As for the sheer joy of playing, unlike most things we humans do in life, getting to the end of a piece of music is never the goal. The play is the goal; the journey is the thing. Otherwise the best symphonies would be those that played the fastest, and the greatest composers would only write endings.

Mike: Response to Rami's 6/10 Post

2009-06-22T06:16:00.000-07:00

I agree with all you say about the ambiguity of goodness, the ways in which we justify evil by appealing to a greater good, our tendency to develop narrow definitionsl of human community, and our bent toward selfishness. I even agree with your take on the golden rule.

Metaphors are always risky, but here's one I find useful. Think of the human story as a piece of music. All of the horrible themes we've identified comprise a major movement within the piece. At times the movement dominates, sometimes it recedes into the background, but it is always there. Still, it is not the only movement. There is another one, a second one, and it plays the great themes of an all-inclusive humanity, humility, sacrifice and deeply shared interests. The two movements play, contend, rise and fall--but they go on playing. Some of us hear one movement more clearly than the other; some of us hear only one theme. We often think we've mastered the music, though truth to tell no one ever really does. Still the music plays on, and neither theme is eliminated.

Now...in my view there is a Conductor who never ceases to try to bring the second movement to the forefront. This may well be the core difference between us. I don't know. In any case, though, I believe the Conductor is involved, though he operates within the limits set by the role he has assumed.

I choose to pay attention to the second movement, to allow its cadences and runs and pace and tone to become the music which is my life. I may well mishear a note, sing along off key, get out of beat--but so long as the second movement plays and so long as I try to listen, I ulitimately will be drawn back into the movement.

So I dare to sing or play or simply beat time to the second movement. So long as the second movement plays, I will not lose hope.

Rami: Response To Mike's 6/9 Post

2009-06-10T06:32:00.001-07:00

I agree with you, Mike, we must choose. And we always choose the good and the right. Regardless of which side of an argument we are on, of which policy we back, or which side of a war we choose to fight, we always assume we are on the side of the good. The good excuses more evil that does evil itself. Slavery, oppression, genocide, torture are rarely done in the name of evil, but most often done in the name of good. The argument continues on CNN and Fox right up to this morning. Those who support torture do not do so because it is evil, but because, in their minds, it serves the greater good.

Given the ambiguity of goodness, let me respond to your guidelines, holding your second for last.

(1) Does the prophet’s teaching, or proposed action square with persons being created in the image of God? The challenge here is to hold on to the idea that our enemies are in fact created in the image of God. The first stage of evil is always to dehumanize those we wish to abuse. Once that is done, once we are convinced that the other is in fact not human, then we are willing to do unto others any horror we can imagine.

(3) Will the agenda, teaching or action contribute to the enhancement of human community or instead farther fracture it? Again the issue is our definition of “human community.” Once we define “us” as human and “them” as gooks, huns, nips, kikes, niggers, baby-killers, and the like we can excuse incredible evil perpetrated against them. And then there is the argument current during the days of American enslavement of Africans that it was in the best interest of the enslaved to be slaves. Better a Christian slave in America than a free pagan in Africa. There is no end to the power of humans to rationalize evil.

(4) Does the agenda, teaching, or action require some genuine sacrifice on my part, or does it mostly serve to protect my interests (economic, career, comfort zone, etc.). This works for you and thoughtful people like you, but most of us put “keeping what’s mine” at the top of our agenda. American foreign policy, regardless of the party in power, is about keeping what is ours and expanding what is ours often at the expense of others. This may bother you, but not the majority.

Now let me come back to your second point, Would I want to be on the receiving end of a given prophet's agenda? This is, of course, the Golden Rule, and at the risk of sounding Pollyannaish, I think this is the only guideline that might work. Would I like to be slaughtered? Would I like to tortured? Would I like to be abused or enslaved? At least on the level of personal ethics this works. And if people would hold to such an ethic our communal ethics might come to reflect this rule as well.

Mike: Response to Rami's 6/2 Post

2009-06-09T08:22:00.000-07:00

Your take on the difficulties associated with false prophets, "fruits," God's will, and vigilance strikes a chord with me. At times I rather despair of our being able to discern false prophets. We have trouble enough sorting through our own self-deceptions! Your closing lament (if you will grant me the term) captures the contemporary challenge: "I don't know how we can protect ourselves against false prophets...there are prophets of one faith or sect who argue against those of another faith or sect but there is no way to tell which is the truer."

Your words remind me of an episode in the novel The Two Towers. Aragorn encounters a young nobleman who is confused and frightened by the competing claims of the time. The nobleman (I'm paraphrasing, not having the novel to hand)cries out: "How is a man to choose in such times as these?" Aragorn's reply (again, paraphrased from memory) braces him: "As he has ever chosen. Good and evil have not changed in a day."

The key point is: Nothing absolves us from the burden or responsibility of choosing. So, when it comes to false prophets, truth, right, wrong, and the like I may be confused but still I must choose, either deliberately or by default.

Given that cheery thought, here are the guidelines I follow. I draw on the Christian tradition, mix in a dash of what I hope is wisdom gleaned from experience, and leaven the whole thing with intentional humility (i.e. acknowledging that I will make mistakes and resolving to try to admit mistakes when they happen and rectify them as I can). Here are my guidelines.

(1) Does the "prophet," teaching, or proposed action square with persons being created in the image of God? If I follow up, will I find myself according others the freedom and responsiblity and dignity inherent in their being made in the image of God? It's surprising how many times this simple guideline leads me to choose not to enlist in a given "prophet's" agenda.

(2) Would I want to be on the receiving end of a given prophet's agenda? If not, I become very cautious about embracing such agendas.

(3) Will the agenda, teaching or action contribute to the enhancement of human community or instead farther fracture it? If division seems to be the likely result, I grow cautious.

(4) Does the agenda, teaching, or action require some genuine sacrifice on my part, or does it mostly serve to protect my interests (economic, career, comfort zone, etc.). I tend to be suspicious of anything that essentially promises to help me "keep what's mine."

Obviously, my decision making is more complicated than such a simple list implies, but still I find the four guidelines help challenge me to take seriously the matter of choice.

Equally obviously, I've not answered the common question: "But how can you know what is true and take actions accordingly." I'm not sure that's the best question, frankly, even if it does appeal to folk reared in the scientific era. Instead, I think aspiring to guide my actions on the basis of seeing God in others, putting myself in the other person's shoes, building community, and embracing sacrifice for the sake of others offers a more productive approach. Mind you, my approach does not provide surety of any kind! But it does preserve me from paralysis.

Rami: Response To Mike's 5/29 Post

2009-06-02T06:26:00.000-07:00

There is so much in this section, Mike, and it is one of my favorite passages of the Bible, but it is also one of the most troubling.

"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.”

Who are the false prophets? I have heard preachers claim that Jesus is referring to the Pharisees, but this is hardly convincing. When denouncing the Pharisees Jesus and the Gospel writers always refer to them as Pharisees not prophets. And the Pharisees would never refer to themselves as prophets. So who is Jesus talking about?

Some scholars suggest that this reference to prophets was added long after Jesus’ death and refers to Paul and his followers, but I don’t think we have to stretch so far. It is not difficult to read this passage as Jesus imagining the future of his teaching when teachers use him and his words to further their own ends. How can we protect ourselves against being fooled? “You will know them by their fruits.”

This sounds right on the surface, but it is far more difficult than it seems. Take the preachers of the Prosperity Gospel, for example, those who use the teachings of Jesus to line their own pockets with gold. Their fruits are their own riches, yet their followers see those fruits as proof of the authenticity of the teaching. In other words, when bad fruit is defined as good fruit it is impossible to tell one from the other.

This is true in every religion. The people are convinced, ala George Orwell, that war is peace, slavery is freedom, and falsehood is truth. And once they are, the wolf can abandon the sheep’s clothing and no one will know the difference.

Shortly after George W’s revelation of preemptive war, Larry King hosted a panel of Evangelical Pastors to talk about war in Christian terms. When asked to explain how justify preemptive war with Jesus’ teaching, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” one guest said that our soldiers were peacemakers because once they killed all our enemies there would be peace. No one challenged her. This was a wolf who no longer needed sheep’s clothing.

Jesus is warning us against placing our faith in human beings and human institutions. Jesus is warning us against the seduction of words and miracles. He tells us to look at the fruits. But what if we no longer know good from bad fruit?
“Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” But what is that will? Every religion claims to be doing God’s will. The rampant torture and abuse of thousands of innocent children in Ireland’s Catholic orphanages was no doubt done under the aegis of God’s will. The murder of the doctor in Kansas, the slaughter of Shias by Sunnis and Sunnis by Shias, the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin, and the oppression of Palestinians in Israel’s occupied territories are all excused as God’s will.

False prophets are not without power. They “prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your power?” So, again, how are we to tell the true prophet from the false when the works of both are identical?

I agree, Mike, that we must remain vigilant, but according to what standard? Jesus may be able to say, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evil-doers," but the rest of us cannot be so sure. When the church (synagogue, mosque, temple, etc.) itself is the source of so much evil, in a world where church, state, and marketplace have educated us to the point where we can no longer distinguish grapes from thorns, and figs from thistles, the only option we have is radical doubt. Trust no one. Not even yourself.

Five centuries before Jesus the Buddha warned us against listening to teachers simply because they are called wise, or following books simply because they are old. He admonished us to test every idea against our own experience: to see for ourselves what is wise and true; to trust our capacity to find enlightenment for ourselves. He may have had too much faith in humanity, but the idea that we must test teachings against reality rather than accept them on faith and insist reality conform to ideology is a sound one.

The problem today, however, is that ideology is reality. There is no objective standard against which to make a sound judgment. I always come back to Micah 6:8, “You know what God requires, Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly,” but the truth is justice, mercy, and humility are so open to interpretation that this text, too, is no longer sufficient.

Bottom line: I don’t know how we can protect ourselves against false prophets. In fact the very label “false” may no longer be meaningful. There are prophets of one faith or sect who argue against those of another faith or sect but there is no way to tell which is the truer.

Mike: Matthew 7:15-23

2009-05-29T11:02:00.000-07:00

"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will know them by their fruits.

Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord,Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your power?' Then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; go away from me, you evil-doers.'" (Matthew 7:15-23) (NRSV)

What are we to make of these two related yet distinct scripture paragraphs? Both look ahead in time to a movement or community after Jesus. While well respected scholars often ascribe such passages to the early church rather than Jesus, I think it reasonable to assign Matthew 7:15-23 to him. With due respect to those who prefer to restrict Jesus' perspective to the apocalyptic, I find him to have been more complex. In particular, he often seems to have anticipated that a community would develop in his aftermath. Such a community, while informed by his teachings and life, would be subject to the dangers of deception and self-deception. It seems to me Matthew 7:15-23 addresses these matters.

Many a modern tale and animated feature has drawn on the image of the wolf in sheep's clothing. In the passage, the core message is to beware of would-be leaders who claim to follow the Good Shepherd but who actually aim to ravage and fleece the flock! I can't speak to Jewish history, but Christian history provides numerous examples of sheep-skin wearing wolves. Some sought to divorce Christianity from its Jewish roots by discarding the Hebrew Bible (or the Hebrew Bible as mediated through the LXX). Others pushed forms of antinomianism, gnosticism (no matter how ill defined the term), expanded membership requirements, and the like. In recent centuries false teachers have tried to lead the Christian movement to endorse slavery, racism, discrimination, sexism, greed,preemptive war, and torture. Both of us could cite numerous specific examples. The end results (the fruits) are division, pain, suffering and death for many--a fracturing of the community of the human race, and the subversion of the church.

Jesus indicates we need never let matters go so far. If the church will practice a kind of tough vigilence, it may discern the fruits of false leaders and move to stem the damage. It's interesting to me that Jesus assigns the community and those within it the responsiblity for discernment. We are to tend our own fruit grove!

Self-deception also poses an ongoing threat. Verses 21-22 speak of the all too human tendency to confuse lip service with reality. "Lord," of course, became part of the earliest Christian confession, by which one not only signaled one's commitment to follow Jesus but also one's entry into the Christian community. Here Jesus gives clear warning against reliance on confessional or other religous language. Such language, while useful, must line up with one's inner orientation, or it means nothing.

In like fashion, good deeds, such as the two examples of inspired preaching and exorcism, may or may not reveal a genuine commitment to God. Something more is needed: alignment with God. The Sermon on the Mount captures much of what that might be. I suspect 1 Corinthians 13 does as well.

Rami: Response To Mike's 5/19 Post

2009-05-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

It's true that I like to think of myself as an individualist, but I admit that I belong to the individualist club and conform as much to the conditioning of that community as anyone else conforms to the conditioning of her or his own communities. And I agree that the journey of the alone to the Alone is never really travelled alone. In fact there is no alone for we are always in the community of the One.

The other day I was asked why the Hebrew name for God as Creator, Elohim, is written in the plural. It is clear that the name is meant to be understood as singular since all verbs and adjectives attached to it are in the singular, but this only begs the question, Why use the plural. My answer at that moment (all my answers are limited only to the moment in which they are given) was that the confusion of singular and plural points to the fact that the creativity that is God is plural, giving rise to many life forms, some lasting but moments, all of which are expressions of the One Divine Reality. God creates the community of living and dying, and we are residents of it.

I think the idea is less about being alone and more about not imitating others. We honor God when we are true to our own uniqueness. Otherwise we are denying God's creativity and rendering ourselves redundant. Just as each snowflake is unique yet all snowflakes are nothing but snow, so you and I and all living things are unique and yet nothing other than God.

I think walking is such a central term because the act of walking is intrinsically capable of awakening us to this truth and the reality of God in, with, and as all things. I have been leading walking meditation workshops both locally and across the country, and integrating walking meditation (using labyrinths wherever possible) into my other workshops. Walking with God, in God, and as God is the gift that such a practice offers us. And as we so walk we discover we never walk alone.

I appreciate your deepening of my understanding of the Prodigal Son parable. I have nothing to add. So let's walk on.

Mike: Response to Rami's 5/6 Post

2009-05-19T11:15:00.000-07:00

I find your take quite interesting. At the same time, I am not at all certain we are very far apart. In fact, I suspect each of us has hold of a piece of a single garment. That being said (and meant), I want to respond to a few matters.

Like you, and the majority of modern western thinkers, I resist herd mentality in favor of radical individualism, by which I tend to mean a kind of lonely and responsible individualism. We always enter the narrow way alone, if we enter it at all.

Once on that way, though, I think we may well find others walking it as well. This is a new community in the making, made up of individuals who share the experience of entering through the narrow door and walking the narrow way. At this point it is not so much that we are coming to God as that we are walking with God. Strangely enough, there's room on the way for all those who choose to walk there.

Walking is a key term. Those who find and walk this way may well not share a language, culture or era. They may well have quite different concepts of God and very different belief structures as well. But they find themselves walking the same road, and over time they find they share a deepening commitment to continuing to walk, helping one another, and even coming to care for one another.

Strangely, and sometimes to our aggravation, the narrow way combines radical individualism with community.

Now for some particulars. Your take on the Prodigal Son is apt, insofar as it goes. The beauty of a story, even a parable, is that it offers many sides for our inspection. I certainly agree your take is real and powerful. If we start with the end of the story, it makes sense. Does it grasp all the possiblities in the story? I do not think so. It seems to me that the prodigal could well have found his way without leaving home, but he did not choose to do so. Had he done so, his personal story would have played out differently, and his way to God would have been easier, at least with regard to physical, economic and emotional suffering. Either way required that he accept his father's love as a free gift.

Repentance or metanoia has never been about a creed or set of beliefs, though at any time strands within Christianity act as if it were so. Metanoia means to turn around and look a different way, walk a different direction, put on a different mind, and the like. Paul, in his better moments, saw this rather clearly. When we do so we increasingly see life with the perspective of Jesus and live accordingly. What that means for each follower, Christian or otherwise, must be discovered and fashioned as a individual. Again, though, as we do so we often find a community of others who share the perspective and the journey.

Rami: Response to Mike's 5/5 Post

2009-05-06T05:52:00.000-07:00

Before we move on, Mike, I want to revisit the narrow way issue. My intent with the Kafka connection was to suggest that the Way itself isn’t narrow, only that we imagine it to be so. Reality is just wide enough for each of us pass through—alone. This is what "narrow" suggests to me--that we must each find our way in and enter alone, and that no two people can share the same point of entry.

The radical individualism of the Way makes it difficult for us to follow. We humans are social creatures, pack animals if you like, and we follow the herd. We imagine that if most people are flocking to something it must be something worth flocking to. Our entire civilization and culture rests on this herd instinct. Kafka and Jesus are telling us something else.

The Way is narrow. It is your way only. Judaism teaches that each of us is a unique expression of God, and that imitating the ways of others is a kind of idolatry. This is why, or so the rabbis teach, Jews always pray to the "God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob" rather than to the more succinct "God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob." The repetition of the phrase “the God of” reminds us that each of us comes to God in our own way.

This works well with the parable of the Prodigal Son. He came to God (his father) in his own way. Had he not left home, had he not squandered his fortune, had he not hit rock bottom, he would never have been ready to accept the radical nature of his father’s love. It was only when he realized he was unworthy of that love that he could accept it as the freely given gift it was (and still is).

If I am on the right track, what then to make of Jesus’ call to “Follow me”? In this I would say Jesus isn’t referring to himself as a person but to his actions. In other words, to follow Jesus is to do what Jesus did: to live the Kingdom in the face of oppression. Jesus is revealing a paradigm to be lived rather than a creed to be believed. When we make Jesus an object of worship we excuse ourselves from having to live the Kingdom—all we have to do is believe in it. Metanoia isn't really repentence but a literal getting beyond the egoic mind and putting on the mind of Christ— seeing the world as Jesus saw it, living in the world as Jesus lived in it, and dying for the Kingdom as Jesus died for it.

The narrow Way is the way of living the Kingdom. The wide way is the way of conforming to beliefs about the kingdom. I realize, of course, that such a view runs counter to everything many Christians believe Christianity stands for, but then, not being a Christian, this may not be surprising.

I imagine you have much to say on this point, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Mike: Response to Rami's 4/29 Post

2009-05-05T13:19:00.000-07:00

Interesting, isn't it how our minds see different connections between the biblical passage in question and other scriptures or traditions. I regard such differences as a benefit derived from our ongoing conversation.

I am not at all sure that saying "the way is narrow," (etc.)is the same as saying God makes salvation difficult. Rather, I read such language as descriptive of the reality of human life. We seem to have a remarkable capacity to select intentionally or by default self-defeating ways. You write, "It seems to me that a loving God would make finding Him easy," and I agree. We humans do not so much imagine that finding God is hard as we make it hard for ourselves. From my perspective, Jesus may suggest that most of humanity will fail to find their way, but if this so, it is by the choices we make.

Certainly, God wants us to come to him. You're right. That's the major point of the Parable of the Loving Father (or Prodigal Son). Still, the son has to come to his senses and choose to take the path home to his father and trust his father with his life. As for your point about Luke 13:25 (the owner shutting the door), don't you think you might be pushing metaphor a little far? It seems to me that all Jesus is saying is that we should choose and act as if all opportunities may come to an end.

I've always loved the Kafka parable! It's written, partly, in reaction to the Christianity Kafka knows, but the point about walking through the gate seems apt. Certainly, the parable's injunction against bribery is on target. Bribery is but one of the false solutions to the quest for "salvation." It's on a par with fleeing to a far city to find one's freedom and self, when all the time real freedom and the real self could only be realized in the presence of the loving Father.

We agree, of course, that if we engage the given moment loving God, neighbor and self we enter the gate, walk through the door, or find our way. My hunch is that we differ in our estimate of human wisdom and strength.

In my next post, I'll open discussion of another passage, unless you wish to continue to explore the subject of our last two posts.

Rami: Response to Mike's 4/28 Post

2009-04-29T08:16:00.000-07:00

The first thing that strikes me in this teaching is its parallel in Luke. Replying to the question, "Lord, will only a few be saved?" Jesus says "Strive to enter through the narrow door, for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able." (Luke 13: 23-24). While you are right to preempt any notion that Jesus is saying only Christians can be saved (after all there was no Christianity when Jesus taught), he does seem to be saying that most of humanity will be damned.

Why is salvation so difficult? When I ponder this question I cannot come up with a satisfactory answer. At least not as long as I posit a God who consciously set up a system of salvation. Why would God make it so hard to find him? Why not make the gate to God as wide as possible? Doesn't God want us to come to him? This would be the message of the Prodigal Son, at least as I read the parable. Has Jesus changed his mind?

I can imagine a system of salvation in which people can opt out. If someone decides they prefer hell to heaven, fine. But why set it up so that most who desire heaven are denied entry?

In Pure Land Buddhism, Amida Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light, puts off his own salvation until he has facilitated the salvation of all sentient beings. All you have to do to get his help is call his name. Sure most people try to make it on their own, but when they finally realize they can't succeed they sincerely call for help, and Amida is there. This seems much more Christ-like than Jesus' notion that "the owner of the house [who I assume is God] has got up and shut the door" (Luke 13:25) leaving millions clamoring to get in. Where is the love and compassion in that?

It seems to me that a loving God would make finding Him easy, and that it is only us humans that imagine the way to be hard. Which leads me to Franz Kafka's parable of The Law. In this parable Kafka imagines a man who finds the gate to the Law (God) but fears to enter because the gate is guarded by a giant. The man spends his entire life trying to bribe the giant to let him in, but the giant never grants him entry. At the end of his life he asks the giant to explain why no one else has ever come to the gate. The giant explains that this gate was for him alone. No permission to enter was every needed. All he had to do was walk through it.

In other words, the narrow gate is the gate made just for you. It is narrow because only you can fit through it. It isn't narrow to keep people out, for each person has her own gate. The challenge is to find our gate and walk through it. What is our gate? It is this very moment; it is whatever life asks of us here and now. If we engage this moment loving God, neighbor, self, and stranger then we enter the gate. If we engage the moment with something other than love (and I would say compassion are justice are the two ways of love) then we do not enter the gate. The choice is ours.

In this way of understanding salvation, the way to God is universal. Each person has her or his own gate. There is no attempt to keep people out. True, you have to find your gate and walk through it, but it is right there in front of you. Walk on!

Mike: Matthew 7:12-13

2009-04-28T07:11:00.000-07:00

Matthew 7:12-13 reads as follows. "Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it." (NRSV)

Let's clear away one matter upfront. This passage is often used in American evangelical and fundamentalist circles to argue that Christianity is the only way to salvation. Matthew 7:12-13,taken in context, is not concerned with such a question. Instead, the passage fits neatly into a strand of Jewish tradition and also serves as the opening volley in a concluding challenge.

For example, when I read the passage I am reminded of Psalm 1: "Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law they meditate day and night." The idea of two ways, one leading to life and the other destruction, has deep, old roots. The Christian tradition absorbed the image, first from Jesus then through various reformulations, ranging from the Didache to The Pilgrim's Progress. It even crops up in The Lord of the Rings, when Galadriel warns Frodo that the quest walks on the sharp edge of a knife, in other words on a very narrow road.

The tradition assumes human choice. We decide which way to take. In my view, this is not so much a single decision as a series of decisions. We choose who to take seriously, who to believe and so set the course of our lives. Our choices shape us. Over time we become more and more nearly like that upon which we focus. That being so, Jesus' warning and promise is apt.

A related question arises: if our lives are shaped by the road we choose to walk, by that to which we pay attention, what is it we're called to take seriously? Context helps answer the question. The two of us have covered much of the content. It's summarized to a great extent in the golden rule. The Beatitudes and the Lord's Prayer contribute additional particulars. If I had to sum it up in a sentence, it would go something like this: "The way of life is to love God, neighbor and yourself well and take the consequences!" Based on our past interaction, I would guess you might prefer a phrase that employs terms such as justice and compassion.

Jesus challenges his listeners to take the matter seriously, as something of transcending importance. In subsequent verses, he will illustrate some of the challenges faced by those who do so: false teachers, false self-perceptions and the like.

Rami: Response to Mike's 4/21 Post

2009-04-21T15:39:00.000-07:00

Mike you covered this well, so let me take a few detours.

Regarding the positive and negative versions of the text, Judaism has both. While Hillel states the Golden Rule in the negative, Leviticus 19:18 is positive, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” as is Rabbi Elazar ben Arach, “Let your neighbor’s honor be as dear to you as your own” (Avot 2:15). These are just two examples, but the idea is simple enough, those who make much of the positive and negative forms of the commandment are probably making too much of them.

* * *

We have been following the Gospel According to Matthew in which Jesus concludes his version of the Golden Rule with “for this is the law and the prophets." It is interesting to me that Luke’s version drops any reference to the Law and the Prophets. Since Matthew is the older gospel I assume Luke was aware of the original, but left it off since his largely gentile audience had no connection to Torah and Prophets.

From a Jewish perspective, it is the older version that is more compelling and challgneing. Matthew’s version parallels the older saying of Rabbi Hillel, “That which is hateful to you do not do to another. This is the whole of the Torah. Go and study it” (Shabbat 31a). What interests me is not so much the positive or negative articulations of the Golden Rule, but the claim that both Hillel and Jesus make that ethics is the whole of the Torah and the Prophets.

Given the overwhelming amount of text devoted to ritual, holy days, and other nonethical material in the Hebrew Bible, it is quite radical to argue, as these two great sages do, that God’s instruction (the proper translation of torah) can be encapsulated in this single call for justice and compassion. And yet that is what they have done, and rightly so.

This is what matters: doing justly, loving mercy, walking humbly with God (Micah 6:8). Hillel and Jesus are affirming this prophetic challenge to priests and priestcraft ancient and modern. How did the religion of Hillel and Jesus get highkacked by legalists and theologians? What would it take to reclaim the true message of Torah and Prophets? What would Judaism and Christianity be like if Jews and Christians actually followed the teachings of these sages rather than the myriad rabbis and theologians who try to complicate matters?

Mike: Matthew 7:12

2009-04-21T06:01:00.000-07:00

The "Golden Rule" reads: "In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets." (Matthew 7:12)(NRSV)

Versions of the golden rule abound. No doubt you can share examples from several cultures. In the ancient Roman world, negative versions may be found in Tobit, Philo and Hillel. Jesus offers a positive version.

The negative versions seem to me to be akin to the old medical dictum: "Do no harm." That is, they call us to avoid hurting others. The rule of thumb becomes: "Don't do anything to someone else you would not want them to do to you." I admire the insight into human nature which lies in back of such formulations. Most of us, I suspect, have little trouble envisioning what others might do to harm us. Identifying and refraining from such actions provides the makings of a workable social order (assuming, of course, that we are healthy people in most respects).

Such a dictum finds particular expressions in the Ten Commandments ("Don't murder, etc) and the prophets (don't misuse the justice system to steal from the poor, etc.).
In short, the negative formulations of the golden rule, if applied, serve to regulate destructive human behavior.

Looking back, I find I've made use of the negative formulation in my personal life. To make a long story short, I grew up in a home dominated by an alcoholic father. A good bit of the first three decades of my life was shaped by a core idea: "Don't do to anyone else what my father did to me." Frankly, the commitment sufficed for a long time, though I must confess it was not sufficient for the long run.

Which leads me back to the positive, or as I prefer proactive, formulation Jesus offered. Taken seriously, it forces us to ask a hard question: "Just what would I really want others to do for me?" Some of us may well be inclined to say, "Nothing." In more nearly sane moments, though, I think we realize that's not so.

Assuming we are reasonably healthy persons, and taking into account "the law and the prophets" plus Jesus, I suggest most of us want at least the following from others.

...to be taken seriously, to be treated as if we matter
...to be "kept company" when life crashes in
...to be accorded opportunities to discover and use our gifts
...to be given opportunity to help others
...to be treated with dignity regardless of economics, health, race, gender or age
...to be offered friendship

Obviously, the list may be applied at the personal level. I think it provides a reasonable guideline at the societal level as well.

I do not regard the list as complete, and I'm keenly aware that such a list is conditioned by our living in relative economic security. A person in dire circumstances might well make a different list and include items such as food, clothing, shelter and the like. Still, having studied and experienced a variety of human cultures, I think the first list captures some of our deepest yearnings.

Jesus' formulation pushes his followers to be proactive toward others, to intentionally offer such gifts to one another. In his worldview, behavior restrictions are fine but not enough. From my perspective, he has much in common with several of the prophets at this point.

Rami: Response to Mike's 4/16 Post

2009-04-17T16:01:00.000-07:00

I was pleasantly surprised to hear that you agree with my notion that spiritual practices are designed to lead us to surrender. I don’t believe we can surrender, for that is still an act of will, but I do believe that we can be surrendered, and this is the great goal of authentic spiritual practice.

I also appreciate your taking this even further. The great discovery one experiences when surrendered to God is that we are loved just as we are. This is the parable of the Prodigal Son. The fallacy of religion is to think that we need to bring the Kingdom of God in the future, when in fact all we need do is live it here and now.

I still have trouble with God granting or denying my requests, however. First of all, if God agrees that what I desire is good, why doesn’t God just give it to me in the first place? And if what I desire is wrong, why entertain the request at all? And then there is the problem of God playing the role of parent or potentate. In the first case we are reduced to children, in the second to serfs. I’m not happy with either.

While I continue to share my life with my dad, and ask his advice, I don’t ask him for things, nor do I want him to tell me what to do. I want his love, his respect, his pride, and if this is what I want from my earthly father, all the more it is what I want of my heavenly Father. It just seems too anthropomorphic for my tastes.

As I have said many times, God for me is reality: all that was, is, and will be. Reality is creative and open to change, indeed reality is change, and so I am not fated to do one thing or another. I don’t ask reality for anything (though I can and do thank it for everything). Rather I engage what is to the best of my ability and then move on to engage what is next. The quality of my interaction in this moment will influence (though not control) the quality of the next moment, and religion at its best teaches me how to live out of the highest qualities—justice, compassion, and humility.

On to the Golden Rule?

Mike: Response to Rami's 4/15 Post

2009-04-16T12:35:00.000-07:00

Taking up your first observation, I am not sure if the passage sounds Pauline or if we hear it as Pauline because we know Paul. I think, for example, that Augustine read the gospels through the lens of Paul. I am certain Martin Luther and Calvin did so, along with many of their theological descendents. I prefer to try to reverse the order and read Paul in light of the gospel accounts. All of this is only slightly related to the main thrust of your point! I simply could not resist taking the detour.

As to your idea that Jesus, like other spiritual genuiuses, sets out a plan of salvation designed to fail, so that we might be driven or led to surrender the ego, etc.--it parallels a long-standing approach adopted by Christians of various stripes. In the tradition I refer to, the core idea is that both the Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount taken seriously teach us we cannot achieve God's standard of perfection. Ideally, the realization delivers us from pride (i.e. ego gone amuck, ego in charge, etc.)and we turn to God to do the transformative work only God can do.

I tend to adopt the insight, but I think to stop there is a mistake. Once we begin to surrender our ego (or self-righteousness, to use Pauline and Christian language)and depend upon God, we find God has loved us all along. The way to God and life with God has been blocked by our own ego. Freed of "the need to transform ourselves," as you put it, we become free to live into transformation. Changing metaphors, we become free to be as children for whom watching, learning from, and imitating a parent is both natural and a form of healthy play. For us, the Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount become not an end but the ethos of our home, an ethos we take with us into any external environment.

With regard to the second point, I did not mean to imply that God always responds but never in the way we like. Even if that were my position, I'm not sure it would amount to a cop-out, but it surely would be bleak, akin to the old Norse resignation to fate. That is not my position.

Instead, I believe God may grant or deny what we request, in accordance with his wisdom and within "the rules" of the created world. Children ask for many things, all of which they want in a given moment. Being the parent of two, I know this is so, not simply in theory but in practice. That's why the analogy Jesus used speaks so strongly to me. My intentional responses to such requests have included silence, explanation, denial of the request, granting the request, granting a modified version of the request, requiring something of the child he or she did not expect or especially want, explaining why the request was impossible to fulfill, and delay of the request. In each case, though, I responded as I thought best and possible. Let's face it: I had a much larger frame of reference than my child and a greater responsibility as well. I tend to think God plays a similar role with regard to us.

The story of Job can be interpreted along the lines outlined in the preceding paragraph. In that case, both Job and his "friends" have much to learn, though Job is farther along than any of his friends and asks much tougher questions. His questions are so good, they provoke a divine answer! We, of course, are starting to grapple with theodicy. My hunch is the subject would require a book of its own.

A minor point of clarification before I end: The "nonsense" I had in mind is any version of "name it and claim it" theology. This particular passage is one of the classic prooftexts for what I can only regard as theological nonsense.

Rami: Response to Mike's 4/14 Post

2009-04-15T11:19:00.001-07:00

This teaching of Jesus is right out of the Hebrew Scriptures. Asking hearkens back to Deuteronomy 32:7, “Ask your father, and he will show you;” and Psalm 2:8, “Ask of me, and I will give you.” Seeking suggests Proverbs 8:17, “And those who seek me diligently shall find me;” and Jeremiah 29:13, “And you shall seek me and find me.” Knocking may be unique to Jesus, though he may have the passage in Song of Songs that says, “It is the voice of my beloved that knocks saying, open to me” (5:2). So there is nothing in the teaching itself that is startling to Jewish ears.

Your notion that Jesus offers us this teaching to calm our fears that the program of action prescribed in the Sermon is impossible to live up to, however, is intriguing.

First, I am struck at how Pauline it sounds. Paul saw the Torah (or Law as he insists on mistranslating the Hebrew for “instruction”) as an impossible burden designed to condemn rather than save. For him faith in Jesus was the antidote to damnation under the law. Now I hear you saying that asking, seeking, and knocking are the antidote to the impossibility of living up to Jesus’ Way set forth in the Sermon on the Mount. This may not be what you meant, but before you correct my misunderstanding, consider for a moment that you may be on to something.

My reading of Jesus suggests that he is imagining people on the edge of total despair who franticly cry out, grasp, and tear rather than respectfully ask, calmly search, or politely knock. I think that Jesus, like other spiritual geniuses, sets forth a plan of salvation (enlightenment, God-realization, etc) that is designed to fail. Why? Because we cannot transform ourselves. The very ego that needs transforming is the ego that is asked to make the transformation. It cannot be done. The ego must be surrendered by our failure so that God can transform us through grace.

Paul was right about the commandments—they are designed to condemn, for only the condemned are ready to be transformed by God. His mistake was to offer the condemned another escape from the reality of condemnation.

Just as you cannot meditate yourself into enlightenment, or earn your way into heaven through the mitzvot (commandments) of the Torah, so you cannot get to heaven through the Sermon on the Mount. What you can do in all these systems is exhaust yoiur ego, and bring yourself to the point of absolute despair. Here you have no choice but to cry, grasp, and claw at Heaven’s door just as a drown man cries, grasps, and flails. And then God changes everything. To me Jesus is saying, “When you finally realize you can’t walk the path to Heaven, storm the gate! God will let you in. He doesn’t care how you get to Him, just come home, come in!”

This is similar to Kafka’s parable of The Law. A man spends his entire life waiting to be invited into the Gate of the Law (salvation) only to find at the moment of his death that there is no invitation, this gate was for him alone to walk through. He just lacked the desperation needed for him to do it.

Of course all this may be another example of the nonsense written about this section of Matthew, but it speaks to me. Nonsense always does.

Your second point is also interesting, but no less troubling for me. To say that God always responds to our beseeching, but not in the way we like, seems like a cop-out to me. All I hear is that life happens regardless of what I want and don’t want. I have no problem with the theology. I believe God when he says he creates light and dark, good and evil (Isaiah 45:7). But if I ask for a bike and God sends me cancer, what’s the point? If I didn’t ask for the bike, would God not have sent me cancer? Did my asking for what I want trigger God to send me what I need?

Ascribing reality to God’s will adds nothing to my experience, unless I assume that God always acts for my good, something that Job and I cannot accept.

This is not a problem unique to Christianity, of course. The ancient rabbis also believed in that “whatever God does is entirely good,” (Berachot 60b); and that “God never deals harshly with his creatures,” (Avodah Zarah 3a). So you are in good company, but I’m not among them. I find Job’s God more accurate and comforting: God does what God wants, and human ideas of good and evil have nothing to do with it. What I have to learn is how to live gracefully without knowing which is coming my way next.

Mike: Matthew 7:7-11

2009-04-14T06:56:00.000-07:00

"Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, adn the door will be opened foryou. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you the, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" (Matthew 7:7-11) (NRSV)

Let's start with the literary context. Jesus has challenged his followers on many fronts throughout the sermon. Even a partial list is daunting: the Beatitudes, taming the heart as well as behavior, loving enemies, meaningful prayer, laying aside materialism, discernment versus judgementalism, and the like. It seems to me that any sane person might well have asked himself or herself: "Where will I find strength and wisdom enough to begin and follow such a life's path?"

Matthew 7:7-11 addresses the matter. Jesus once again calls his followers to rely upon God. He uses active language: ask, seek, and knock. One may ask, seek and knock via prayer, but also through study, reflection, and conversation. Seeking God's way is not a passive affair!

Lots of nonense has been written over the years regarding the phrase "and it will be given you." Given the fact that Jesus did not always receive what he prayed for, we cannot accept the idea that we shall receive whatever we request. I prefer to link the phrases "will be given," "will find," and "opened to you." Here I think Jesus practiced parallelism, stacking similar phrases atop one another in order to drive home his point: God is prepared to give you what you most or really need.

That's the point of Jesus' language about human parents and their children. If a human parent (assuming a "normal" relationship) can be trusted to try and give good things to his or her children, surely God can be trusted to do so and to get it right.

My experience (and that of others) is of a God who often does not answer the question I ask but instead another question. God frequently does not give me what I seek but something else instead. As for doors, God most often does not open the one I want opened but instead leads me through another. It can be quite frustrating. Here's the thing, though: Such experiences reshape us, given time and acceptance, from self-centered urchins into adults more willing and able to flex, give of ourselves, appreciate others, and walk in faith.

Rami: Response to Mike's 4/7 Post

2009-04-09T06:05:00.000-07:00

I am good! And the advantage I have over you is ignorance. You have spent your life studying these teachings and 2000 years worth of Christian commentary on them, while I once read a book about that. But this is America, and here ignorance trumps scholarship almost every time, so on to the next text.

Mike: Response to Rami's 4/7 Post

2009-04-07T11:32:00.000-07:00

You're good!I especially appreciate the way in which you pull together several scripture passages which present similar challenges. Let's stipulate that you clearly cover one of the standard interpretations. As you know well, it's an option articulated by a number of Christian interpreters.

Jesus certainly was not always polite. He could be, and often was, blunt. In addition, I would add he strikes me as having been a realist with regard to human nature in practice--some will listen and accept, others will not--so what's a disciple to do? We've already discussed our differences over judgement/discernment and judgmental.

Both of us know "dogs" and "swine" are not to be taken literally but instead as powerful metaphors. Whatever Jesus might have in mind, neither term was complimentary in his culture. Both of us are aware of the debates over the place of "the gentile mission" in Jesus' mind. We differ over how this passage might apply to the matter. You focus on the question of Jesus' attitude toward gentiles; I focus on the passage's possible application to the work of those who took Christianity to the gentiles and some first century Jews. Strange and interesting, isn't it, how the two of us look at the same words yet ask different questions of them?

Several factors seem to me to be in play and to fuel our different responses to the passage. The first relates to how each of us chooses to deal with the "rough" aspect of the passage. Let's face it. I sometimes take understatement past all reasonable limits. When I briefly wrote of the passage's harshness and the like, I automatically "felt" as if I had said a great deal. What you took to be an effort to "clean up" the passage did not feel that way to me. That's a mistake on my part, by the way. I assumed too much on the part of potential readers and should have taken more space to unpack the terms.

Second, it's probably impossible for me not to interpet a scripture passage without taking into account most of 20 centuries of interpretive work in the Christian community(ies). The long tradition no doubt affects me in ways of which I both aware and unaware. One feature of that tradition is a tendency to apply scripture passages to one's own slice of life--hence, the pastoral life story.

Third, it seems to me both of us may be reacting to Christian sterotypes of Jesus we encounter. We've discussed one or more of these in recent posts. In this particular case, I deal often with people who believe Jesus (or a disciple of Jesus)could never "move on" from anyone in order to deal with someone else more open to Jesus' teachings or potential lordship--hence my tendency to read and apply the proverb the way I did in my posting.

Reading back over the preceding paragraphs, plus your post, I have no difficulty understanding why so many trees have had to die that endless commentaries might be written!

Rami: Response to Mike's 4/6 Post

2009-04-07T09:51:00.000-07:00

I agree, Mike, that Matthew 7:6 is a proverb, but that only begs the question: who were the dogs and the swine. Nobody literally tosses holy objects to dogs or throws pearls to pigs, so Jesus doesn’t mean for us to take him literally. It seems to me that the “dogs” and “swine” are either Jews who reject Jesus and his teaching, or Gentiles in general. So much for “do not judge” (Matthew 7:1).

The first reading is on par with Jesus calling his rabbinic opponents “hypocrites” and “children of hell” (Matthew 23: 13-15). It might not be much of a stretch to imagine Jesus calling them dogs and pigs as well.

If we don’t want to stretch at all, we can look to Matthew 15:26 where Jesus uses similar language to refer to Canaanites. The Canaanite woman beseeches Jesus to heal her daughter, but Jesus at first refuses. His rationale is that he has come to teach the lost sheep of Israel, and that “it is not fair to takes the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (Matthew 15:26).

Here the “children” refer to the Jews, the food is the teaching of Jesus, and the dogs are the Canaanites.

The Canaanite woman understands Jesus is talking about her and her people, and says “even dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s plates” (Matthew 15:27). Jesus is impressed with her faith and does heal her daughter. This does not spark a change of heart in Jesus, however, and he instructs his apostles to refrain from entering gentile cities (Matthew 10:5), again suggesting that Jesus’ mission is to the Jews and the Jews alone.

Jesus’ reference to “swine” is more problematic. He never calls anyone “swine” or uses pigs in a parable. He does cast demons into swine (Matthew 8:32), but I doubt Jesus is admonishing us from casting his teachings to the demon possessed. So “swine” escapes me.

In any case, I understand the need to clean this up a bit, but I don’t think Jesus was talking about the five percent of the people who take up ninety-five percent of a pastor’s time. Jesus wasn’t always polite, and I think we have to allow him his biases and judgments. Just imagine how much pressure that would take off those who try to live up to his example.

Mike: Matthew 7:6

2009-04-06T11:57:00.000-07:00

Matthew 7:6 (NRSV)reads: "Do not give what is holy to dogs; and do not throw pearls before swine, or they will trample them under foot and turn and maul you."

What might we make of this neglected brief statement, sandwiched as it is between Matthew 7:1-5 and Matthew 7:7-11, classic, oft-cited passages?

The passage sounds like a proverb, and it certainly is so structured. If so, I think it best to treat it as a kind of wisdom saying. The sayings found in the book of Proverbs often sound jarring to Christian ears. For the most part, they lay out tactics for a stable, productive life. There is little "high sounding" about a proverb. Some, in fact, come across as harsh. In the context of first century Judaism, I suspect the terms "dog" and "swine" did so.

When I treat Matthew 7:6 as a kind of proverb, I interpret it as a necessary corrective to a tendency often found in Christians. I call it the "argue with a fence post mentality." It's characterized by a inability or unwillingness to recognize when someone simply is not open to the Christian way. Wise Christians drop the subject and move on. Many Christians, though, insist on forcefeeding their version of the gospel to the reluctant, closed or openly hostile person. The results are never good, either for the Christian or the person they've cornered.

In like fashion, Jesus counsels his followers to be gentle as a dove and wise as a fox. He tells them not to spend their time with villages immune to his message but to move on to another village.

Put positively, Jesus' point is this: Invest your time and message with those who will receive it, that is listen carefully and respond. Note, he does not promise such persons will always accept what you have to offer, but they will display an willingness to listen and interact.

This kind of wisdom finds its way into pastoral ministry. Many years ago, a well-known pastor often told young ministers: "Don't allow five percent of the people to take up ninty-five percent of your time." He meant we were to focus our time and energy on those receptive to our ministry, rather than burn up time trying help those who refused help. For the most part, I've found his insight on target.

Rami: Response to Mike's 4/3 Post

2009-04-04T17:27:00.000-07:00

You refined my thoughts quite nicely, Like, thanks.

I am multi-lingual to be sure. Sometimes I wonder if I am not my own private Tower of Babel. i think we are able to find such richness in our conversations on and off the Internet because we share so many languages. While this may not be rare among peoples of faith, admitting it seems to be. So many people find being bi-lingual dangerous, let alone multi-lingual. I find the more languages of faith I know the richer my understanding of Reality becomes.

I also agree with your final comment that the experience of God Presence is a gift. Contemplative practices can prime the pump and help make us receptive to the gifts of the Spirit, but in the end it is always a matter of grace.

Next text?

Mike: Response to Rami's 4/3 Post

2009-04-03T10:30:00.000-07:00

I think we understand one another, at least insofar as is possible via words on a screen. That being said, I want to add a few more words to our conversation.

First, I appreciate your points about what it means to be Jewish and the room afforded you within the tradition. For what it may be worth, Christian mystics often make room for a wide range of ways in which to experience God and articulate the experience. Thomas Merton, for example, comes to mind. Systematic theologians have more trouble doing so, not least because they (as a group)major on precision and distinctions. Experience does not lend itself to such treatment.

Second, you speak of testing matters in light of experience and reason. We're on common ground here. Within the limits of a single blog post, it sounds as if you refer only to your personal experience and reason. I'm fairly certain that is not the case, but that's for you to say. As for me, I try to pay attention to a mix of things: personal experience and reason, the experience and reason of others as found in their stories and in general human history, the experience and reflection of the church over the centuries (this includes but is not limited to the scriptures), modern science, the arts, and the like. Again, my hunch is that our approaches are similiar, though we might weight various elements differently.

Third, naturally we try to make sense of such experiences by calling upon the language(s) we know. You say this is Judaism for you. Actually, though, wouldn't it be more accurate to say that it is Judaism, one or more other world religions (or philosophies), modern science, and the arts? You are multi-lingual, so to speak. So am I. In both our cases, we try to distinquish between the language(s) we use and the reality we're attempting to describe. What I have learned for myself is that Jesus best describes the presence and its implications for me, insofar as I comprehend.

One quibble. I appreciate your perspective when you write: "Religion is vital when it preserves the event story as a reminder of what each of us can discover for ourselves." We agree, I think, that we can discover a good bit for ourselves. In the case of the particular experience I described, though, I have no sense that I had set out to find or discover anything. Instead, I should say it was given me.

Rami: Response to Mike's 3/31 Post

2009-04-03T06:54:00.001-07:00

Thank you so much for sharing this, Mike. You raise at least two issues on which I would like to comment.

First is your assertion that “Were I not Christian, I suspect I would adopt such a view.” The view in question is my understanding of God as the source and substance of all reality, and Jesus as paradigmatic of the God-realized human that each us can become.

If I were to say this in the context of my own life, I would say, “Were I not Jewish, I suspect I would adopt such a view.” But I am Jewish, and I do affirm this view! I do not affirm it because I am a Jew. I affirm it because every fiber of my being tells me it is true. If Judaism insisted on something different, I would have to be something different. I manage to stay within the Jewish fold for two reasons. First, because being a Jew is a matter of birth and/or tribal membership, and there is no one theology that defines us as a people. And second, because the Jewish mystics do allow for just such a theology.

I place truth, as best as I can perceive it, above theology. That is to say a thing is true for me not because the Bible says it is true, but because my experience and reason tells me so. The Bible may affirm what I know to be true, but it isn’t the source of that truth. For example, I believe it is true that we should love our neighbors as ourselves. I believe it not because God says it (Leviticus 19:18), but because when tested against my experience I find it to be true. God also says we should avoid mixing linen and flax in our clothing, but I do not find this compelling at all, and do not worry about it. But God says both things. If one is true because God said it, the other can be no less true, seeing as how it comes from the same source. The fact that I pick and choose among God’s teachings makes it clear that I place my own sense of right and wrong above God’s as presented in the Hebrew Bible.

Regarding your experience in college, I have no doubt that you were both working on a paper and touched by the presence of God. What is interesting to me is that this Presence wasn’t identified as Jesus until later. This, I think, is the norm among most of us who have had similar experiences. This Presence is Nameless, beyond religion and theological niceties. This Presence crushes (Muhammad, too, felt the Presence of Allah as a crushing weight) and loves. But it isn’t Jesus, or Yahweh, or Allah, or Krishna, or any of the thousands of names we humans invent for the Ineffable. It just is.

When the experience passes and we try to make sense of it we draw upon the language with which we are the most comfortable. For you that language is Christianity. For me it is Judaism. For others the language might be Buddhism, or Islam, or art, literature, or science. The key is to distinguish the ineffable experience from the words we use to describe it.

Religion goes wrong is when it mistakes the word for the event. Religion is vital when it preserves the event story as a reminder of what each of us can discover for ourselves.

Mike: Response to Rami's 3/31 Post

2009-03-31T07:43:00.000-07:00

You know my love for classic science fiction, so you'll not be surprised that your take on God inevitably jogs my memory and calls to mind Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land. Heinlein probably did more than anyone else to introduce the idea of "Thou art God" and so is everyone and everything else to mainstream American culture. (And,yes, as you know I'm aware of the ancient roots of the perspective!)

Were I not Christian, I suspect I would adopt such a view.

That being said, I want to turn to your specific question: why I believe what I believe. You phrase my belief as "Jesus is God." That's good shorthand, but of course what I believe is a little more complicated. That being said, though, let's take up your question.

Experience drives my belief. For example, during my childhood the stories of Jesus which I read caught my imagination. I experienced God through Jesus. Looking back, I regard such experience as preparation.

An intense experience during my sophomore year in college strengthened my conviction. While minding my own business in my room, in fact while working on a paper, I suddenly felt myself in the presence of something far greater than myself. At first it felt as if a great weight lay over the entire room, including me. Then the weight lessened. I felt small, unworthy, more than a little frightened (think Isaiah 6:1ff). Then something changed. I felt known yet loved. I had never before felt that anyone knew me to my depths, and I had always believed no one could love me if they actually knew the real me. Now I found myself known and loved without condition, though all the help I might ever need to become more fully myself was offered freely. I relaxed, I let down my guard, I surrendered to the embrace of the presence. Subsequent experiences have not been as dramatic, but they have been real to me, reinforcing and informing the initial experience.

Afterwards, as I reflected on the experience I found my mind returning to the stories of Jesus, and I realized I saw in him the presence I had experienced. I think that's when I decided firmly and for myself the Incarnation had happened, was real. Obviously, all this can be written off as a typical young adulthood matter or as being solely conditioned by religious culture. In my own case, I think not. My inner skeptic is alive and well and always has been.

Jesus has proven to be the focal point or lens through which I continue to experience the presence, love and guidance of God. Its fair to say that experience drives my belief. The stories of Jesus help shape my response to experience, both in terms of my private life and my life in community.

Rami: Response to Mike's 3/30 Post

2009-03-31T05:35:00.001-07:00

Nice to get back to this, Mike.

I’d like to take a moment and explore a bit more the place of our most fundamental disagreement: that Jesus is God. Actually I have no problem affirming this. Where we differ is that I would add to the affirmation “Jesus is God, saying, “and so are you.”

God, for me is reality in all its manifestations. When Jesus says, “I and the Father are one,” I say, “Mazal tov! You get it! You and God are one, and so is everything else.” If God is infinite there cannot be anything that is not God. I have no problem accepting Jesus as a fully awake and God-realized manifestation of the Divine, far beyond my meager knowing. I just take him as paradigmatic of what all humans can achieve and not, as Christians do, the one and only such manifestation.

Ok, so much for my theological stance. My question is, Why you believe what you believe?

My own conviction comes from an initial experience I had at age sixteen. Meditating on a lakeshore in Cape Cod during the summer of 1967 I suddenly knew the absolute nonduality of all things in, with, and as God. I was everything and everything was me, and there was only this One Thing which I call God. Subsequent experiences have reinforced this knowing, and I cannot deny it.

So, if you don’t mind, please tell me a bit more about your experience of Christ.
Where does your faith conviction come from? Did you have (and do you continue to have) a deep encounter with Jesus Christ? What was it like? In what way is Jesus a living presence for you?

Mike: Response to Rami's March 16 Post

2009-03-30T05:37:00.000-07:00

Both Rami and I have been snowed under by a variety of engagements, but we're back now. Over the next few weeks, we hope to post regularly and work our way to the end of the Sermon on the Mount. That being said, I'll launch our writing spree by responding to Rami's previous post.

We're in agreement that Jesus argued against judgmentalism. I want to nuance the point a bit. In the passage, Jesus calls us to healthy self-awareness and humility. The more we become aware of our own sin (or whatever you prefer to call it), the better the chance we may not rush to pass judgment on others. We might even develop empathy and its companion virtue compassion.

As for the role of Holy Spirit in "log removal," I appreciate your point. From my perspective Holy Spirit (Spirit of God, etc.)most often works through others to help us see the log in our own eye. Such a community of friends and advisors keeps us honest. If we listen only to the voice within ourselves, it's all too easy to deceive ourselves. In fact, we have to move beyond our circle of friends and learn to listen well to those with whom we disagree. This provides a safeguard against the kind of "group think" which too often characterizes human communities.

Regarding Jesus, I suspect our faith perspectives place us on different pages. Seeing Jesus through the eyes of the Christian faith, I believe him uniquely qualified to judge others on the basis of their deeds. It seems to me he consistently does so. If I accept the premise of the Incarnation and all it implies, then Jesus has the right and wisdom to judge, forgive sins, and all the rest. In short, Rami, I doubt we will come to agreement on this particular point.

Thanks for the way in which you nuanced my statement: "we're no longer out to remake the world and others in our own image." I strongly agree with your statements. That being said, I want to clarify my own point. When we live without awareness of the log in our own eye or in denial of the image of God within us, we tend to try to shrink the world to fit us comfortably. A racist wants to remake the world into a racist world, and so it goes. The greatest danger we pose to the world and one another rises from this kind of tendency. Your comments point to the opposite side of the coin: the hope we may offer the world insofar as we reclaim the image of God and live accordingly.

Rami: Response to Mike's 3/9 Post

2009-03-16T07:48:00.000-07:00

I agree that we should not take Jesus’ blanket prohibition against making judgments literally. Otherwise Jesus is being illogical, for simply to place not judging above judging is a judgment. So I understand Jesus to be arguing against becoming judgmental.

Jesus’ teaching should be compared to those of his rabbinic colleagues. The rabbis taught, “Judge all people by their deeds,” (Pirke Avot I:6). Judging a people according to the quality of their actions provides a sound foundation for good judgment, and avoids playing God and trying to judge a person’s heart. The rabbis also taught, “Those who judge according to deeds will in turn be judged according to deeds,” (Shabbat, 127b). While the rabbis believe “God desires the heart,” (Sefer Hasidim, 5-6) it is the quality of one’s actions that determines one’s fate because actions are controllable while feelings or thoughts arise of their own accord. Lastly we can see parallels to Jesus’ log and speck analogy in the rabbinic teaching, “Those who condemn others see in them their own faults,” (Kiddushin, 70a).

One question I would raise regarding these teachings of Jesus is whether or not he himself lived up to them. Clearly he did not. Jesus not only judges, he is often judgmental. To cite only one example, Jesus regularly calls people hypocrites. The word occurs only once in the entire Hebrew Bible (Psalm 26:4 NRSV) and twelve times in the Gospel According to Matthew (6:2; 6:5; 6:16; 15:7; 22:18; 23:13; 23:15; 23:23; 23:25; 23:27; 23:29; and 24:51 NRSV)! I have no problem forgiving Jesus his log, and in fact it makes him all the more human and accessible, but it is still important to note that he himself had work.

Regarding personal log removal, I think I understand what you are saying about the Holy Spirit, though I prefer to place my faith in trusted friends and a good therapist. When it comes to helping me see the log in my own eye, I suspect that the Holy Spirit is often my ego in Holy Spirit clothing excusing the log and exaggerating the other person’s speck.

My last comment speaks to your notion that “we're no longer out to remake the world and others into our own image!” I know what you mean, and I don’t disagree, but in the interest of creative dialogue let me suggest that when we realize our true image, meaning God in whose image we are made, we are indeed out to remake the world in our/God's image. The entire Jewish enterprise is one of tikkun hanefesh tikkun haolam, reclaiming the image of God in our souls that we might remake the world in that image as well, applying justice and compassion as best we can on every level of human interaction (personal, interpersonal, and transpersonal), as well as in our interactions with other species and nature as a whole.

Mike: Matthew 7:1-5

2009-03-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

"Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye, while the log is in your own eye?' You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye." (Matthew 7:1-5)

What kind of judgment does Jesus have in mind? Our answer determines our response to the passage. For example, when we say someone has good judgment, we usually mean he or she possesses discernment, whether when dealing with decisions or with others. They make wise decisions. If Jesus is calling us to refrain from discernment and decision-making, we have a problem, don't we?

Insofar as I can tell, that's not what Jesus has in mind. Instead, he speaks of the all too human tendency to label others negatively. We too often think we can categorize others as wrong or right, good or bad, and the like. Frankly, we may subject ourselves to the same kind of self-evaluation. Theologically speaking, the Christian tradition generally teaches only God can rightly judge the heart of a human and that only God has the "right" and wisdom to do so. When we judge, we in effect try to take God's place. We cannot bear such a burden well, so inevitably we wind up hurting others and ourselves.

More subtly, such judgment may mask our desire and need to control our environment. We want to keep others "in their place," deprive them of power, or eliminate them as "players." We're afraid of certain aspects of ourselves, so we project our dark side on others and attack it. We judge because it makes us feel safe, though in reality the practice puts us in grave danger of alienation from God, others and even ourselves.

Discernment generally engenders humility and compassion. Judgment, on the other hand, breeds pride, disdain and violence.

How might we remove the log in our own eye? I think we need help. In my religious tradition, we believe Holy Spirit undertakes to help us see the log and remove it. As you might expect, this is not a one-time event but an ongoing process. Personally, I've found it helpful to meditate on scriptures such as Matthew 7:1-5, read how others have identified and dealt with the matter, and listen to a handful of close friends who sometimes know me better than I know myself.

I must say the reward of pursuing discernment while dropping judgment is considerable. Our need to win, be right, dominate, and determine who is in or out diminishes. We indeed become able to be more honest about our own dark side, which in turn enables us to more readily accept and enjoy our gifts. As humility grows, we relax. After all, we're no longer out to remake the world and others into our own image! Instead, we learn how to appreciate the individuality of others. Our task is redefined. Now we seek to discern and nurture the gifts of others. We also learn how to enjoy others and be enriched by what they bring to the table.

Rami: Response to Mike's 3/3 Post

2009-03-04T05:40:00.000-08:00

I admire your synthesis of these passages, Mike, but I’m going to take the more traditional approach and comment on various teachings as they come up.

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume. This reminds me, as it would Jesus’ audience, of Ecclesiastes who teaches that everything “under the sun” (Jesus’ “on earth”) is hevel, transient as morning dew (a much more accurate translation that the conventional “vanity” or “futility”). Ecclesiastes says, “The lover of money will not be satisfied with money; nor the lover of wealth, with gain. This also is impermanent” (Ecclesiastes 5:10). Everything on earth is in the process of dying. Nothing is permanent, and so trying to overcome our fear of mortality with things always fails.

I especially like the line, For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. We treasure that which we imagine will save us from the fate of all life—death. Some of us imagine that this treasure is on earth, others that it is in heaven. I am not much of a believer in heavens and hells, nor do I think there is any way to escape my own transience. Jesus, unlike Ecclesiastes, seems to hold out hope for a better world in heaven. I tend to side with Ecclesiastes taking comfort in living life as best I can without clinging to anything or anyone.

If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness. To me Jesus is saying this: Use your eyes to pierce the façade of permanence; see, as Ecclesiastes saw, that all is hevel havalim, transient and insubstantial as breath. Then you will be free from clinging, from storing up treasure. But do not think treasure is material only. Ideas, too, can blind the eye and leave us in darkness. Wrong thinking is more subtle than material wealth for it leads to mistaking error for truth, and darkness for light. Take no refuge in thoughts or things, but only in the unknowable God alone. Taking refuge in the Unknowable you hold to nothing. When you are free of material and spiritual clinging you are at last in the kingdom of God.

You cannot serve God and wealth. It didn’t take long for the followers of Jesus to forget this teaching. By equating wealth with God they deftly finessed Jesus and established a church whose wealth is the envy of even the super rich. But this is not unique to any one religion. I read all sacred texts and teaching and ask, Who does this teaching benefit? Jesus’ teachings, like those of the other Hebrew prophets, most often benefit the poor and powerless, and because they do I believe they are from God. Texts and teachings that sanction the accumulation of wealth and power in the hands of the few are most likely the product of those hands as well.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life. Or as the immortal Alfred E. Newman says, “What? Me worry?” Worry adds nothing to life. On the contrary, it distracts us from living it. Living without worry isn’t living with the bliss of ignorance, for as Jesus says, tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today. Trouble and suffering are as natural to life as tranquility and joy. When we worry about these things (having too much of the former and not enough of the latter) we distract ourselves from dealing with the troubles and enjoying the pleasantness that is before us right now. Worry takes us out the present, and Jesus, like Ecclesiastes, is challenging us to live in the present (though not for it).

Living without worry allows us to engage life fully and righteously, doing what is right because it is right and not because we imagine it will earn us some reward in the great by and by. The kingdom of God, as I understand it, is not heaven but this earth and this very life lived with justice, compassion, and humility (Micah 6:8).

Jesus, I believe, anticipated the coming of God’s kingdom on earth in the lifetime of his followers. When it failed to come these very same followers put it off into the future. When the future too proved too soon they projected it into the afterlife where it can never be too early or too late. Unfortunately, removing the kingdom from this world allowed the teachers of the kingdom to store up treasures in this world, deliberately misrepresenting darkness as light, and exploiting the fears of people in the name of God.

For me the challenge of Jesus is not faith but action. Striving first for the kingdom of God and his righteouness means living this moment with an open mind, an open heart, and an open hand. This I believe is what Jesus modeled, and this is what we must try to do in our own lives as well.

Mike: Matthew 6:19-34

2009-03-03T08:52:00.000-08:00

While most commentators divide Matthew 6:19-34 into at least four sections (19-21;22-23;24; 25-34), I tend to think they should be treated as a whole.

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

"The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy,your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness.

"No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do your worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore, do not worry, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear?' For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteouness, and all these things will be given you as well.

"So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today." (Matthew 6:19-34) (NRSV)

The core thesis comes late in the passage: "But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you as well." To be frank, this is the central thrust of the entire Sermon on the Mount. Paraphrased, it might go something like this: "Devote yourself solely to God; all other things will then find their proper place."

Such a perspective clears one vision, so to speak. We see clearly the source of our life (God), our family (all others), our home (the creation), and our direction (love). Any lesser perspective clouds our vision and leaves us to walk in gathering darkness.

In such darkness we fixate on trying to secure our security (storing up treasures, whether of gold, expertise, reputation, etc.). We fail to see how all such treasures are prone to decay or loss, indeed that loss is inevitable. In effect, we wind up trying to walk two paths at the same time, serve two very different masters at the same time (God or our own anxiety). As Jesus says, such a double-visioned approach to life does not work. In the end, we opt for one option or the other.

Like any good teacher or preacher, Jesus illustrates his point with particular examples, hence his injunctions not to worry about food, drink, clothing and the like. Such worry turns out to be futile and betrays a nagging tendency to trust in ourselves (or other providers) rather than in God. More importantly, indulging such worries pull us toward dependence on "wealth." We find the allure of its promise of independence from dependence on God or others too much to resist, and we give it our worship. And both of us know what our traditions have to say about idolatry!

Rami: Response to Mike's 2/27 Post

2009-03-01T16:02:00.001-08:00

No argument from me, Mike. Oh, I take it back. Of there is an argument from me. What would a rabbi be without an argument?

I’m just wondering about the idea that spiritual discipline is a means toward a desirable end. I used to think that my meditation and chanting practices would get me something or take me somewhere. But I no longer think that. No I am not sure that there is anywhere to go or anything to be gotten. God is in, with, and as all things so where is there to go or what is there to get? Now I meditate and chant for the sheer pleasure of doing so.

In Judaism we call this Torah lishma, Torah for its own sake. This is considered the highest form of practice: no aim, no reward, no expectations, just rejoicing in the presence of God, the Shekhina, through study, prayer, contemplation, and chanting. Works for me.

On to the next verse?

Mike: Response to Rami's 2/25 Post

2009-02-27T12:36:00.000-08:00

Interesting insights, Rami!

I am particularly taken with the rabbinic insistence that fasting be tied to providing food for the poor. Quite a number of Christians now make the same connection. For example, a number of Christians of my acquaintance fast on Fridays throughout Lent and donate the money they would have spent on food to help feed the hungry.

Such practices make sense to me. At the very least, they actually feed someone who needs food. They also help the one fasting to remember all spiritual practices have something more than personal benefit or even transformation in view. In the end, spiritual disciplines must not only strengthen our bond with God but also with our "neighbor."

I like your question: "...who are the hypocrites?" Traditional Christian interpretation often assumes Jesus meant some of the Pharisees. Personally, though, I think both of us may be tempted to make a mistake when we ask the question--the mistake of assuming that first century documents ever tell the whole story. My guess is that Jesus had in mind people he knew or encountered, people whose personal practice departed from the norm of first century Jewish life with regard to fasting.

I don't know that I would say fasting's primary purpose is help one "get right with God." Fasting, like any spiritual disciple, may clear or refocus one's mind, freeing it from many distractions, so that it may better apprehend the truth about one's self and the presence of God. As I've noted, this should always lead the individual to better align with the purposes of God, not the least of which is to minister to others. Like any spiritual discipline, fasting is not an end in itself, but a means toward an desirable end.

Rami: Response to Mike's 2/18 Post

2009-02-25T15:15:00.000-08:00

As you said, Mike, fasting was common in Jesus’ day, but Jesus’ teaching is a bit confusing to me.

First of all, who are the “hypocrites”? The Pharisees fasted on Mondays and Thursday, the weekdays when the Torah is read in the synagogue, but there is no outward sign for these fasts. If the disfigured face Jesus is referring to means a face unwashed accompanied by hair unoiled, the prohibition against washing and anointing is only found in regard to Yom Kippur, the most holy day of the Jewish year, and one on which all Jews fast. Could Jesus be downplaying Yom Kippur? And since the prohibition of washing and oiling one’s hair was applicable to everyone, are all Jews hypocrites?

It may be that Jesus is attacking fasting in general, though he himself fasted for forty days (Matthew 4:1-2). In the Gospel According to Mark (2: 18-20 NRSV) Jesus abolishes all fasting for his followers as long as he is alive: “The wedding guests cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them, can they? … The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast on that day.” It sounds like Jesus is abolishing fasting as a practice with the exception of a fast on the day of his death. It is possible to read the text as meaning an annual fast on Good Friday or just a fast for his followers on the first Good Friday. According to the Didache (8:1) the early Christians followed the Pharisaic custom of fasting twice weekly, but did so on Wednesday and Friday to avoid being mistaken for Jews, but I couldn't find anything about fasting on Good Friday.

Your understanding of fasting as a means of shifting one’s focus from self to God makes sense, though the rabbis frowned on private fasting (Taanit 11a) as a way of repentance, and focused the meaning of fast days on the needs of the poor. Those who fast are obligated to give charity to the poor so that the poor would have enough money to eat well when the fast is over (Sanhedrin 35a).

It seems to me that Jesus is balancing his political teachings regarding justice to the poor with inward–focused practices bringing one closer to God. If so Jesus’ take on this particular practice is a departure from the rabbis who taught that fasting is not about getting right with God, but about doing right by the poor: “The merit of the fast day is in the amount of charity given to the poor” (Berachot 6b).

Mike: Matthew 6:16-18

2009-02-18T08:12:00.000-08:00

"And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truely I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your heavenly Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you." (Matthew 6:16-18) (NRSV)

We move into a series of sayings on fasting, treasure, and allegiance. Let's take up fasting in this post.

Fasting was an acceptable act of piety in Jesus' day. To the best of my knowledge, he had no issue with fasting per se. He was less enthralled with what he felt to be a self-defeating form of public fasting. Perhaps with a bit of exaggeration, Jesus paints a picture of someone who alerts others that he or she is fasting by assuming a gloomy look or decorating their face with ashes, paint or such. I don't believe Jesus cared one way or the other about the use of ashes or other facial decoration. His question was: For whom or for what reason are you fasting?

His targets fasted in order to get public credit for the act. More subtly, they fasted in order to gain a kind of power over those who observed them. In such cases, fasting became not a tool for spiritual liberation but a means of binding oneself even more tightly to the "normal" human game of social manipulation.

Jesus opted for private fasting. While one might well go out in public while fasting, one's appearance and behavior ought to give no clue that one was fasting. To Jesus way of thinking, fasting was meant to be a tool that might free us to better experience or focus on God.

That's the point of the language about God seeing what is done in secret and rewarding us. The reward is not something postponed until some judgment day, but instead comes in bits and pieces, and occasional transcendent moments, as we experience liberation from preoccupation with self coupled with a sharp awareness of the reality/presence of God.

Rami: Response to Mike's 2/11 Post

2009-02-11T17:27:00.001-08:00

This was very helpful. Let me just clarify my thoughts a bit, and then I want to go more deeply into the issue of the nondual.

I didn’t mean to say that the dualism of God versus the Devil that seems to haunt much of Christianity came directly from Zoroastrianism. You are right that Zoroastrian ideas entered Judaism during the Babylonian exile in the latter decades of the sixth century BCE. I just meant that there seems to be a parallel view between Christian and Zoroastrian dualism.

Dualism is the great error of the western religious traditions. The pitting of God against some form of personified evil lends itself to identifying one’s enemies as being against God. The terms we use for those we oppose make this all too clear: heretics, infidels, unbelievers, etc. If God is battling with the Devil, and we are on the side of God, it just stands to reason that those who stand against us stand against God.

The idea of unbelief is so ingrained in our culture that even President Obama used it in his inaugural address speaking of Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus and unbelievers. There are no unbelievers, only people who believe differently.

We might sum up the entire history of Abrahamic religion as: My God is bigger/truer than your god, and I can prove it by killing more of you than you can kill of us. Body count as religious proof¬¬–text is a horrible legacy. I’m exaggerating of course, but not by much.

The solution though is not less religion but better religion. And by better I mean religion rooted in a nondual understanding of reality. Nondualism as I would define it here is the belief that all things are manifestations of a singular reality I call God. This is not the same as saying there is one God, for one only makes sense in opposition to many. The One and the many is subsumed into the larger whole that is the nondual singularity.

When Jesus says, “I am the vine, you are the branches. The one who abides in me while I abide in him bears much fruit,” (John 15:5) he is speaking in nondual metaphor. There is a clear distinction between vine and branches, and yet both are part of a single living system. We are in God and God is in us, just as the wave is in the ocean and the ocean in the wave. Similarly the Christian mystic Meister Eckhart (1260-1328) says, “the eye with which I see God is the eye with which God sees me,” again speaking to a nondual understanding of reality. Every religion has this insight, though in the west it is limited to mystics.

In nondualism good and evil are both aspects of the singular reality, God. To limit God to the good alone is to define God down from the all to the less than all. Seen this way temptation and resisting temptation is all a part of God.

Mike: Response to Rami's 2/10 Post

2009-02-11T10:09:00.000-08:00

Thank you for pointing to the affinity between the morning liturgy of the Authorized Jewish Prayer Book and the Lord's Prayer passage. Like you, I find it rather striking.

That being said, let's take up your various comments relative to Jesus and Christianity's understanding of the devil, evil, and the like.

The Greek term in question may be translated either as "the evil one" or "evil." Even in the other passage you mention (Matthew 13:19), the Greek term might be rendered either as "the evil one" or "the enemy."

More importantly, any account of Jesus' concept of the devil or evil should take the rest of his teachings into account. For example, Jesus made it clear he thought our greatest danger came from within ourselves. Even the classic accounts of the temptations in the wilderness do not require us to posit a literal devil with a capital "D." The account itself leaves it to the reader to decide if the conflict takes place between two individuals facing each other in the desert, or within the mind and heart of Jesus. Given the teaching I mentioned first, I believe the latter most likely. If this is the case, I tend to think Jesus' concept fits within the broad scope of first century Jewish thought, even as we've found considerable continuity between Jesus and first century Jewish teachers with regard to other matters.

You're quite correct that the Satan plays a relatively minor role in the Hebrew Bible, though Job does take up a good bit of space, and the story itself certainly exercised considerable influence on both Jewish and Christian imagination. The influence of Persian Zoroastrianism, insofar as I can tell, found its way into Jewish thought during the exile. Quite a few years had passed, of course, and Judaism (for the most part) had resolved the matter along the lines you suggest. Again, it seems to me Jesus's concept is congruent with this resolution.

That being said, I see little evidence that the writers of the gospels opted for Persian dualism. They used the language of the day, language that later readers took either literally or as metaphor. Such are the limits of language.

Certainly, formal Christian thought rather consistently rejected the dualism you posit, insisting on the unity of God and the role of God as creator of all. Evil, sin, and even a literal Satan (in those cases where a writer so believed) were the consequences of free will abused. Even so, evil is not free of God in Christian thought; God shall take even its worst consequences and bring forth something new and good that otherwise would not have been.

Having said all of the above, like you I know any number of American Christians who function as dualists. The reasons, I think, lie within American history and culture, ranging from the influence of revivialism as developed since the Second Great Awakening, premillenial dispensationalism, and popular fiction. Dualism is one of the great temptations which beset each generation of Christians. Properly understood, though, neither the New Testament or historical Christian thought endorses it.

The matter probably merits additional conversation over Mexican food!

Rami: Response to Mike's 2/9 Post

2009-02-10T09:57:00.000-08:00

Two things strike me in this passage, Mike. First is its affinity with Jewish liturgy, and second its departure from Jewish psychology.

The similarity is found in the morning liturgy of the Authorized Jewish Prayer Book:

And may it be thy will, O Lord our God and God of our fathers, to make us familiar with thy Law, and to make us cleave to thy commandments. O lead us not into the power of sin, or of transgression or iniquity, or of temptation, or of scorn: let not the evil inclination have sway over us: keep us far from a bad man and a bad companion: make us cleave to the good inclination and to good works: subdue our inclination so that it may submit itself unto thee; and let us obtain this day, and every day, grace, favor and mercy in your eyes, and in the eyes of all who behold us; and bestow loving-kindnesses upon us. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who bestows loving-kindnesses upon thy people Israel.

Both Jesus and Jewish liturgy worry that God might lead us to sin or times of moral testing. I take this metaphorically. When I say that God is testing me I mean that life is presenting me with challenges that force me to make difficult choices. I don’t imagine that God is consciously doing this. This is simply the nature of reality, and, since for me God is reality, it is the will of God.

What is more interesting to me is Jesus’ use of “the evil one” verses the rabbis’ use of the “evil inclination.” If my memory is correct, the Greek for “evil one” is masculine suggesting that Jesus is talking about Satan or the Devil. Jesus uses the same term in the Parable of the Sower where “the evil one” steals what has been sown (Matthew 13:19).

It seems that Jesus believes in an independent Devil working in opposition to Kingdom people, while the rabbis saw evil more as an aspect of human psychology: “the imagination of the human heart is evil from its youth (Genesis 8:21), and “every imagination of the thought of the human heart is only evil” (Genesis 6:5). “Imagination” here means selfish fantasies that excuse exploitative and harmful behavior. The rabbis believed that the human capacity for such thinking develops around puberty (youth).

Satan is nearly absent from the Hebrew Bible, and by the time of Jesus most rabbis understand Satan to be a metaphor for the evil inclination. In this way they reject any independent source of evil at war with God. This is probably one of the major differences between Judaism and many forms of Christianity.

The Christian position posits Satan as the prince of this world, and in this way mimics Persian Zoroastrianism which pits Ahura Mazda, Lord of Light, against Angra Mainyu, the Lord of Darkness. While Ahura Mazda is destined to triumph, humans must choose sides. Substitute Jesus for Ahura Mazda and Satan for Angra Mainyu and I know lots of Christians who would assent to this belief.

Judaism is too monotheistic for this. We prefer Isaiah 45:2 where God admits that good and evil are both of God. For us evil is a psychological phenomenon fully within our power to control: “sin lurks at the door, and desires you, and you shall rule over it” (Genesis 4:7). Or as the second century rabbi Simon Ben Zoma taught, “Who is strong? One who controls the evil inclination” (Pirke Avot 4:2).

I find it odd that the Jewish writers of the Gospels would have opted for Persian dualism over Isaiah’s biblically normative monotheism. Their decision had huge consequences for Christian belief through the centuries. As far as I know no other religious tradition is as concerned with the Devil as is Christianity at least in its western forms.

Thoughts on this?

Mike: Matthew 6:13

2009-02-09T12:50:00.000-08:00

Let's move on to the next passage: "And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one." (Matthew 6:13) (NRSV). Many of us memorized the KJV version: "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." The NIV splits the difference: "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one."
Translation is a bit of art. Each version represents a faithful attempt to render the Greek in English.

That being said, what might Jesus have in mind? Start with "the time of trial." Most Christian commentators, myself included, interpret the petition in terms of proper humility. A follower of Jesus recognizes his or her limits. We do not seek tests of faithfulness, mostly because we admit our strength inadequate to ensure we will make the right choices.

In the gospels, Peter serves as the model of a follower who long failed to recognize his own weakness. Peter rashly declares he will be faithful to Jesus regardless of circumstances, only to betray Jesus three times before the dawn of the next day. In the setting of the last supper, Peter seems to crave to be tested. He is convinced of his unbreakable integrity. Peter's humilating defeat by the fireside is traumatic not least because it destroys his inflated sense of his own invincibility. Lesson one: Do not seek to be tested.

The petition, however, suggests that God indeed may test us, even as Jesus was tested in the wilderness. A wise person asks God not to do so, even as she or he recognizes God is free to impose such testing for God's own reasons. The gospel model of this approach is the prayer of Jesus in the garden: "Let this cup pass from my lips; nonetheless, not my will but your will be done." The petition holds the potential to renovate our mindset, so that we increasingly trust the loving God will not place us in any situation beyond his power to see us through (even if we should die in the process).

"Rescue us from the evil one" is a perfectly fine translation, but I rather prefer the KJV: "And deliver us from evil." We speak such a petition because we increasingly sense the scope of the opposition, the weight of that which would separate us from God. Evil as embodied in human institutions, ways of thinking, unwritten codes, and daily practice wields enormous power. By the time most of us become able to think abstractly, we are so entangled by such evil as to make it practically impossible to escape on our own. Through the petition, we ask for God's ongoing intervention on our behalf.

Keep in mind, of course, that all of the above applies not only to the individual but to groups as well. In the case of Christians, we pray the petition on behalf not only of ourselves but for the entire Body of Christ. Personally, I pray the petition on behalf of all humanity.

We pray the petition continually, recognizing that even the light we are given today burns only through that portion of the darkness nearest us. We shall need yet more light if we are to walk very far.

A Note to Our Readers

2009-01-29T07:02:00.001-08:00

Hi. This is Rami. Mike and I are taking a short break from this blog. Mike isn't feeling well and is going to take some time off to get himself back on his feet. At least that's what he's telling me. I suspect he's going to bury himself in the library and bone up on his Christology so he can better refute my brilliant arguments on the meaning of the Sermon on the Mount.

I'm sure he would appreciate your prayers for his quick recovery. If you feel called to send donations please put them in my name. I'm not ill, but I need the money more than Mike does. If enough money comes in I intend to vacation in the Bahamas. I'll email him your names and tell him you sent something from there.

Please don't abandon us. We will continue in a week or two. Check back. Thanks.

Rami: Response to Mike's 1/28 Post

2009-01-29T06:44:00.001-08:00

This certainly helps with an understanding of how the idea of forgiveness through Jesus as Christ evolved, Mike. From the Jewish perspective the issue is still problematic, though over the centuries many Jews have adopted somewhat similar practices such as praying at the burial sites of great rabbis and sages in hopes of invoking their help in convincing God to do whatever it is they wish to have done.

My own position is that God neither rewards nor punishes, and that forgiveness only makes sense in the human sphere. For me God is Reality, all that was, is, and ever will be, and that which transcends this as well. My experience of God is not one of forgiveness but of infinite compassion. God, and I am speaking metaphorically here, simply mirrors back to me the complete fabric of my life and how my actions impact others, and does so in such a way as I cannot avoid feeling the suffering I cause. It is this realization that motivates me to make amends and ask for forgiveness from those I have hurt or harmed.

When I say God is love, the love I imagine isn't sweet but searing. This love burns away all the nonsense and lies that poison my life and keep me from fully experiencing the depths of suffering and joy that life contains. When I die I don't expect God to forgive me or condemn me. I expect God to embrace me the way an ocean embraces the river that flows into it, or the wave that arises from it. I am not concerned with heaven and hell except as they play out here on earth. I am passionate about the "kingdom of God" among us and between us and with in, but I have no interest in such a kingdom above or a horror show below. In this I am quintessentially Jewish.

I suspect it is the Jewish focus on this world that makes the validation of Jesus as Christ through the resurrection irrelevant. It doesn't matter than Jesus returned to his Father in heaven. What matters is that we are still making a mess of things here on earth. To say with Jesus that his kingdom is not of this world is, from a Jewish perspective, to say that his teaching is irrelevant to the world. Neither you nor I believe that. I think the teaching of Jesus, which I see as profoundly Jewish drawing from and expanding both the prophetic and rabbinic traditions (as opposed to the teaching about Jesus which form the basis of Christianity) are as vital today as ever--perhaps more so. The power of the Sermon on the Mount is that it is a deeply spiritual and transformative way of living here and now. Nothing can diminish nor add to that--not the resurrection nor the denial of the resurrection. It is Jesus' teaching that matters, and I don't want to limit the validity of that teaching to a supernatural understanding of the teacher.

Mike: Response to Rami's 1/25 Post

2009-01-28T06:55:00.000-08:00

See if I ever again leave you "free to focus on other matters!" That being said, you raise a good question with regard to the Christian teaching of forgiveness through Jesus. I do not pretend to be a scholar on the subject (either the particular example you raise, or the larger matter of Christology). Still, I harbor strong impressions, which I hope are based primarily in reflection on biblical texts, Christian history and experience.

Christians view Jesus through the lens of the resurrection. All his words and actions take on additional meaning for us as a result. To the best of my knowledge, all early Christians interpreted the resurrection as God's validation of the life and teachings of Jesus. Almost immediately, they concluded Jesus must be the Christ. Some tended to view him as a man, whom God elevated to the status. Others soon began to see Jesus as the incarnation of the Word (to borrow John's language). We see a bit of both tendencies in Paul's letters. Ultimately, the Christian doctrine of the Trinity evolved from such considerations. With regard to your question, Christians felt it natural to pray in the name of such a Jesus or to ask forgiveness in his name.

The practice also derived from early Christian reflection on other sayings of Jesus. For example, Jesus told his disciples that whatsoever they asked in his name would be granted, that no one came to the Father but through him, and the like. You and I live in a time when sets of scholars debate which sayings should be regarded as authentic. The first followers seem to have accepted and worked with whatever sayings were available. That being the case, they soon began to pray in his name and seek forgiveness through him.

Experience played a role as well, I think. The first generation of Christians clearly believed Holy Spirit was active in and among them to comfort, bring to memory the teachings of Jesus, guide them in ministry, and instruct them. My personal hunch is that if we could interview early Christian leaders, they would tell us they believed Holy Spirit led them to pray in the name of Jesus and seek forgiveness through him.

All of the above begs the question of Jesus' intentions. How one deals with the matter seems largely determined by whether one factors genuine resurrection into the equation. By that, I mean we're either dealing with a life and its attendant perceptions/intentions which ended with death, or with someone who lived bound within the limitations of genuine incarnation then lived again with expanded perceptions/intentions via resurrection. The early Christians went with the second option.

Rami: Response to Mike's 1/23 Post

2009-01-25T07:50:00.001-08:00

Your reading of this passage is very close to my own, and since you blend both the communal Jubilee Year with the personal aspect of forgiveness, I am free to focus on other matters.

First let me offer some comfort to those who may be troubled about the different versions of this teaching in Matthew and Luke. In Matthew Jesus speaks of “debts” while in Luke he speaks of “sin.” Both may be correct. The Gospels are written in Greek but Jesus most likely preached in Aramaic, the vernacular of his listeners. In Aramaic the word “choba” means both debt and sin, and it is this word Jesus spoke and which Matthew and Luke both translated rightly even as they translated differently.

Second and more importantly, I am struck (and if I were a Christian troubled) by Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness. Jesus says nothing about praying in his name or believing in him as the Son of God as a condition for forgiveness. Rather it links the forgiving of others to God’s forgiving of us. This is very much in line with Jewish thinking then and now.

In the second century BCE text the Wisdom of Ben Sirach we are instructed, “Forgive your neighbor the wrong he has done, and then your sins will be pardoned when you pray” (Ben Sirach 28:2, NRSV). In the Talmud God says, “I forgive your sins against Me, but go to those against whom you have sinned and ask their pardon also” (Rosh HaShanah 17b). In the older text God’s forgiveness requires us to get the forgiveness of others. In the later text God’s forgiveness comes before human pardon and is an impetus for it.

Jesus differs from Sirach and the Talmud by focusing on giving forgiveness to others rather than asking us to forgive us though this too can be found in rabbinic teaching, “All those who are forbearing and forgiving of others and who do not insist on their rights will be forgiven their sins” (Talmud, Yoma 23a). This last text may be the source of Jesus’ teaching in Mark, “Whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses” (Mark 11:25).

In all these cases, however, it is clear that belief in Jesus has nothing to do with securing God’s forgiveness. Forgiveness is ours to bestow, and when we do so God does likewise unto us. This a variation on the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have God do unto you.”

I am neither a theologian nor a scholar of Christian history, so I am wondering why and when Christianity shifts from the Jewish teaching of Jesus about forgiveness to the Christian teaching of forgiveness through Jesus? Not that you need more work to do, Mike, but I look forward to hearing your answer and insight into this.

Mike: 1/22 Post--Matthew 6:12

2009-01-23T07:05:00.000-08:00

Thanks for pointing to the imaginative connection between the prayer and the manna stories. You point is not only true, it enriches our appreciation for the prayer. Now, on to the next phrase.

"And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors." (Matthew 6:12).

I think it best to view the petition against the backdrop of the jubilee year (see Leviticus 25:8-17). The jubilee year ideal called for the forgiveness of all debts and the restoration of all property to its orignal owners every fifty years. Insofar as I know, the ideal was never put into full practice, but it certainly gripped the imagination of many. Such a practice would have had the practical effect of placing everyone on a equal footing once per generation. In addition, the practice probably would loosen attachment to and dependence upon property, turning followers into stewards rather than owners. Applied on an empire wide basis, it would have involved the Romans leaving the region (though surely disputes would have arisen over the question who originally owned the property!). In short, the petition carried economic and political implications.

That being said, we ought not neglect the personal dimensions of the prayer. Jesus places responsibility to start the process of forgiveness on us. We pray to be forgiven our debts in accordance with how we have forgiven the debts owed us. At this point, I think the petition extends its reach beyond economics and politics to the realm of personal relationships.

For example, Jesus seems to be saying to his first century Jewish listener that he or she must practice preemptive forgiveness, whether of an offending fellow Jew or even a Roman. He calls for breaking the all too common human cycle of revenge and what we might call "compensated forgiveness" in favor of something more radical. Much to our consternation, Jesus never implies such forgiveness on our part guarantees a like response from others. On the other hand, if we take his way we at least drop the terrible burden of holding mortgages (of all kinds)on others.

Does the petition mean we cannot be forgiven by God until we learn to forgive others consistently? I would not put it so. Rather, it seems to me we cannot experience (recognize, absorb, be changed by) and live knowingly in God's kingdom without practicing forgiveness. I suspect learning to practice forgiveness of all kinds is an integral part of growing from infancy to maturity in the kingdom of God.

Rami: Response to Mike's 1/16 Post

2009-01-19T08:33:00.000-08:00

Let me just tack a few things on to your fine comments, Mike.

In addition to what you said about the economic of the time, a first century Jew listening to Rabbi Jesus could not hear him speak of “daily bread” without immediately thinking of Exodus 16 and the manna given to the Jews during their wandering in the Sinai desert. God provides the Jews with manna each day and instructs them to take no more than a single day’s portion (with an exception made for Friday when they are to take two day’s portion so as not to have to gather manna on the Sabbath).

As is always the case someone has to test the rule. Someone ignores the rules and gathers a double portion hoping to secure enough by taking more than enough. In the morning, however, his left over manna is teeming with worms. The Torah’s message, carried by Jesus in his prayer, is to live with enough.

The Lord’s Prayer calls the Jews back to Sinai. He is challenging them to surrender to God once again, and to trust that God will lead us to where we need to be and sustain as we journey there. He is saying, “The treasures we store up for ourselves cannot sustain us. Tomorrow they will be as rotten as the illicit portion of manna. God provided for us in Sinai and God will provide for us now, but only if we learn to live within the confines of enough.”

There is enough for all if each takes only enough. Most of us, however, take more than enough, or at least desire to do so. We imagine (wrongly) that life is a zero-sum game where my abundance depends on another’s lack, so we pursue more than enough fearful that if we don’t someone else will take our portion as well as their own. It is grasping for more than enough that is at the root of most if not all of the world’s suffering. And it is here that Jesus use of “us” comes in.

First we should remember that Jewish liturgy is intrinsically communal. We almost always speak in the first person plural rather than the first person singular. Second Jesus is again reminding us of Sinai where there was enough for all of us as long as each of us took no more than we needed.

The challenge of course is to trust that this is so. Few of us do. We are always seeking that extra portion of manna expecting that this time it will not rot. As the economy has recently reminded us, there is no security in stored up treasure.

Mike: 1/16 Post, Matthew 6:11

2009-01-16T08:02:00.000-08:00

"Give us this day our daily bread." (Matthew 6:11)

The petition was and is counter cultural.

In the first century context, it spoke directly to the daily reality faced by the poor. Daily bread, that needed to live another day, did not come easily. Day workers, such as those depicted in the parable of the owner and the workers for hire, lived from day to day. Taking one day at a time was not a maxim but instead harsh reality.

By contrast, upper classes with property, prosperous businesses, government connections and the like lived in a long range world. Holding on to what they had and adding to it preoccupied many of them. They did not have to worry about bread for the day, but they no doubt invested considerable energy in trying to build their holdings and pass them along to their children.

At the risk of oversimplification, the two classes felt different needs. The poor might well have prayed "Give me bread for today." Those better off might well have prayed "Prosper my investments." The first is a prayer of acknowledged dependence, the latter at best invites God to help grow the family business.

Jesus' choice of phrase is congruent with his contention that God loved the poor and that riches make it difficult to choose to depend upon God.

The term "us" is important. It challenges the tendency of poor and rich alike to settle for self-centeredness. Positively, it pushes us to care not only that we and our loved ones (or "folks like us") have enough to eat (and by extension, have enough of the basics of life), but that others do as well. Personal acts of charity and sacrifice ensue. The more we grapple with the matter, we realize social, legal, business and government structures must also be addressed.

Let's not forget the question of "enough." With rare exceptions, humans act out of insecurity, both real and imagined. We find it hard to know and admit when we have enough of anything. The prayer calls us to scale back expectations, to recognize that each day is all we have, and to live accordingly. Obviously, when we do so, there's more to go around. Less obviously, when we do so we begin to free ourselves from slavery to pointless anxiety about the future. We start to become people more nearly able to live in the present moment.

Rami: Response to Mike's 1/7 Post

2009-01-08T14:55:00.000-08:00

We call what you are talking about teshuvah/return and tikkun/repair. The two operate together: you return to God and repair the world with godliness: doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God and God’s creation (Micah 6:8). Some people are more prone to begin with teshuvah and the life of prayer, study, and contemplation that is the way of return. Others are more comfortable beginning with tikkun, becoming socially active and working for justice for both persons and planet. Wherever one starts, the other is always bound to kick in at some point. My understanding is that when one lives teshuvah and tikkun one lives in Malchut Shamayim, the kingdom of God.

Jesus’ reference to God’s kingdom is, itself, very Jewish. In the Talmud, tractate Berachot 40b (published centuries after Jesus, but containing the teachings of his rabbinic predecessors and colleagues) the rabbis taught that for a prayer to be valid it must mention both the Name of God and the Kingdom of God. In practice this has become the classic opening of almost every Jewish blessing: “Blessed are You, YHVH our God, King of the universe.”

Judaism speaks of two opposing kingdoms, Malchut Zadon, the kingdom of the proud, and Malchut Shamayim, the Kingdom of Heaven. Pride, along with anger, arrogance, greed, and ignorance, is what keeps God’s kingdom from manifesting on earth. The way we will know God’s kingdom has come is that justice and peace will reign around the globe. Because we believe only the Messiah (or messianic consciousness) can bring this global transformation, and because we believe that this will be a this-worldly socio-economic-political-spiritual transformation we believe that the Messiah has yet to come. When Jesus says, “My kingdom is not of this world,” (John 18:36) we Jews lose interest. This is where the kingdom is needed, not in some heavenly realm.

Judaism is a profoundly this-worldly faith. We have little to say about life after death, and pay scant attention to heaven and hell. We believe that behavior alone determines your fate after death, and that a person whose good deeds outweigh her bad deeds by even a feather’s weight will have a place in heaven. Our hope is articulated in Jeremiah 23:5: “The days are surely coming, says YHVH, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.” The “land” refers not only Israel but the whole world.

I understand that for many Christians this Branch is Jesus, and that the Second Coming will accomplish what we Jews expect from the first. Numbers aside, the goal is the same: global peace and justice.

I am struck by Jesus’ prayer that “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” What keeps God’s will from operating on earth? Again, I would point to pride, anger, arrogance, greed, and ignorance. If we want to see the Kingdom of God our prayers must be, to borrow from Rabbi Abraham Joshua, “subversive” and thus overthrow Malchut Zadon, the kingdom of pride. Unfortunately most of us are so invested in Malchut Zadon that we rarely if ever pray subversively. On the contrary, our prayers reinforce our own will and pretend that God wills what we desire.

True prayer is humbling, subversive, and transformative. It reveals the holiness at the heart of humanity and liberates us from fear that we might refashion the world in love. It manifests as teshuvah and tikkun; returning us to God that we might remake the world with godliness.

Mike: Response to Rami's 1/6 Post

2009-01-08T10:38:00.000-08:00

I think you are right. We come at the matter from different angles, both of which have their own merits, and our perspectives complement one another.

Personal transformation, if authentic, must lead one to face and address social/political matters, especially with regard to liberation and equality. A prophetic stand against tyranny and a subsequent social revolution minus personal transformation may well lead to another kind of tyranny in the long run.

That being said, I want to move to the next phrase of the prayer: "Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Jesus refers to the kingdom of God, the core of his message and vision. He calls us to pray that the way of heaven might become the way of earth.

What does the way of heaven (the kingdom of heaven) look like? We know from the other teachings of Jesus, such as those we've been unpacking from the Sermon on the Mount, or the declaration of his ministry as found in Luke 4:18-19. It's the kind of world in which the blind see and the captives are set free, both by the rightful presence and rule of God and through our cooperation. The worship of God and welfare of one another unite to become the primary value around which life is structured.

Jesus' words assume that his followers will want, or learn to want, such a world. The prayer itself may, should,reshape us into such persons. Of course, the more we learn to yearn for God's kingdom to shape the world in which we live, the more open we are to changes in our personal lives and the broader life of society.

Rami: Response to Mike's 1/5 Post

2009-01-06T13:15:00.000-08:00

I remind you of Greek philosophers? Which ones? Plato? Aristotle? Or Arianna Huffington? Actually I am taken with a number of Greek philosophers especially Heraclites and Epicurus. The latter was so hated by the ancient rabbis that they used the Hebrew version of his name, apikoros as a synonym for heretic. I am that to some. Proudly.

As we get into the Lord’s Prayer, let me remind everyone that I come at this assuming Jesus was a Jew speaking primarily to Jews in the idiom they knew best. Given that, we should not be surprised that Jesus borrows from Jewish texts and teachings in fashioning his Way. The genius of Jesus is that he took the Judaism of his day and recast it for a new day.

I want to take up the Lord’s Prayer section by section, sometimes line by line, to allow us time to go into this deeply. I will link the phrases (where applicable) to Jewish text and teaching, and then give my spin as to their meaning. Let's start with the text.

Our Father in heaven The metaphor of God as father is biblical: Psalm 103:13, Hosea 11:1, Isaiah 63:16, and Jeremiah 31:9, to cite just a few examples, so Jesus is again drawing on the prophetic tradition of Judaism.

In addition, referring to God as “our Father” was common in Jesus’ time. The Hebrew prayer Avinu Malkenu (Our Father, Our King) dates from this period, and Rabbi Akiva who, like Jesus, was martyred by Rome years before the Gospels were written, taught the prayer, “Our Father, our King, we have no king beside You. Our Father, our King, have mercy on us for Your sake,” (Ta’anit 25b). Having no king beside God is what got both Jesus and Akiva killed.

Linking “father” with “king” is the equivalent of Jesus balancing “father” with “heaven,” and means the same thing: God is both immanent and transcendent. The full phrase “Our Father in heaven” or as Jesus would have said it, Avinu sheh-ba-shemayim was an epithet much beloved by the rabbis of his day and earlier. In Sotah 9:15, for example, the rabbis say that true piety is doing the will of Avinu sheh-ba-shamayim.

Hallowed be your name is part of the opening line of the Kaddish prayer which ancient and contemporary rabbis use to close each teaching session: Yitgadal, v’yitkadash, shemay rabbah: "Make great and hallow Your great Name." It is also the prayer recited in honor of the dead, but this is a latter use of the prayer.

Without getting bogged down in textual history, I think it is safe to say that “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name” clearly reflects and draws upon Jesus’ Jewishness. But what does it mean?

One the one hand, it means just what it says: Let us sanctify the One who is both as close to us as a father and as far beyond us as the heavens. But why refer to God’s Name rather than directly to God? Why not say, “Our Father in heaven, be hallowed”? Why the reference to God’s Name?

The Name to which Jesus refers is the Shem haMiphorash, Ineffable Four-letter Name of God which Jews believed was revealed to Moses at the Burning Bush (Exodus 3:14). God says to Moses that people used to know God as El Shaddai, the All Powerful, but now through Moses they will come to know God as Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh, the unconditional I Will Be What I Will Be that became the Four-letter Name, YHVH. Why the new Name? Because God is taking on a new role: God is not simply the transcendent Creator but also immanent Liberator. Our relationship to God is not simply one of thanksgiving and praise, but of active partnership in the liberation of the enslaved.

It isn’t El Shaddai that sends Moses to Pharaoh, but YHVH, and it is this Name that Jesus wants us to hallow. It is this Name his rabbinic colleagues want us to make great. Why? Because it is the Name of liberation. What Jesus and the rabbis are calling for, albeit in highly coded language that only Jews would understand, is the end of tyranny and the establishment of God’s kingdom on earth. The coding allows the message of liberation to spread without catching the attention of the Romans for whom the phrase "Your Name" is meaningless.

Thus as I read the Lord's Prayer, from the very first line Jesus is calling for revolution: "Our Father in heaven, let Your Name, let Your freedom, let Your liberation be hallowed, and not the name of Caesar and the tyranny that comes with it!"

As is common with us, Mike, we come at this from two different angles. I see Jesus the revolutionary, you see Jesus the Christ. I hear a call for resistance and you hear a call for transformation. But I don’t think either of us is wrong. On the contrary, I think Jesus, like every authentic prophet of any religion, is a catalyst for both social revolution and personal transformation. You cannot have one with out the other, at least not if you expect either to be fully authentic. In fact by hearing each other's understanding of Jesus' words I suspect we each broaden our own perspectives and understandings of Jesus as well. At least that is my hope and my experience so far.

Mike: The Lord's Prayer Continued, 1-5-09 Post

2009-01-05T13:17:00.000-08:00

Your understanding of the meaning of "God" sometimes reminds me of that shared by some ancient Greek philosophies and Christian thelogical systems heavily influenced by Greek philosophical thought. That being said, let's unpack the Lord's Prayer. It should be interesting to see where our understanding intersects or diverges.

The prayer opens with "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name."

Prayer forms us, and the Lord's Prayer begins the ongoing process with it's first term: "Our." The prayer does not begin with "My Father," but with "Our Father." Immediately, Jesus pushes us to step away from the rank individualism which characterizes much of modern American Christianity and discover (or rediscover)that we are one humanity before God.

Taken seriously, over time the insight may transform our perspective. At first, it challenges our egoism, weakening our tendency to expect all the creation and God to center on us. As time goes on, and we become aware of the diversity of people praying the same words, we may begin to lay aside divides fueled by racism, ideology,economics, culture and nationalism. Eventually, we may realize God is the parent of all persons, even those who do not acknowledge this is so. The term "our" is subversive of all typical human divisions, leading us to acknowledge our kinship.

"Father" presents problems for any number of modern Christians, mostly because of a heightened sensitivity to gender issues. The term "Father" plays a critical role in the prayer, however. It translates the Greek term "Abba," which is the kind of intimate word a small child might use, the rough English equivilent being "Daddy." Praying the prayer encourages us to know the kind of God who is approachable, who loves us, and who wishes to nurture us.

Christian commentators of past generations often contrasted such an image of God with the supposed first century Jewish notion of a distant, law-giving God. Commentators of the past half century or so have demolished this viewpoint, noting that ancient Judaism held a position similar to that of Jesus.

"In heaven" nicely balances "our Father." We may know God as our loving parent, but we must not fall prey to the notion that we know all there is to know of God. The "God Who Can Be Experienced" is also the "God Beyond Knowing." Study and experience suggests most of us are inclined toward one or the other pole. Jesus's prayer keeps both poles in healthy tension.

"Hallowed be your name" concludes the opening sentence. We might paraphrase it as: "May your name be treated as holy." Here, it seems to me, Jesus weaves the great commandment against using the Lord's name in vain into the practice of prayer, giving it a postive spin. More importantly, perhaps, Jesus makes adoration of God a crucial component of prayer, and so of the life formed by the practice of prayer. Learning to adore (worship, bow the knee, pick your favorite word or phrase) is the only lasting antidote to worshiping one's self or some piece of the creation.

I look forward both to your response and to what you have to say about the Jewishness of the phrase.

Rami: Response to Mike's 12/30 Post

2009-01-01T08:30:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, Mike, and happy New Year to all our readers. I am so excited about taking on the Lord’s Prayer. It is perhaps the most Jewish piece of liturgy in the entire Bible. But, as you said, it is wise for use to deal with more general issues first.

I agree that Jesus, along with the vast majority of his co-religionists, believed that God desires prayer and is ever-ready to listen if not act. I pray daily, but I have to admit that I am not so sure about the assumptions behind the act of prayer.

I speak to God as if God were other, as if God were, as you say, “both distant and very near”. For me God is the Source and Substance of all reality; God embraces and transcends the material world just as a word embraces and transcends the letters that comprise it. There is a level of meaning in the whole that the parts as parts lack.

For example, the letters “O,” “E,” “L,” and “V” in and of themselves are meaningless, but the word “Love” is profoundly meaningful. When we look at the universe as a collection of discrete parts we cannot find meaning in them, but when we see them as a wild yet integrated whole we do find meaning.

Of course there is no word without the letters, so I am not discounting them. Indeed I see them as manifestations of God. So when I pray it is God speaking to God in order to shift perspective from the part to the whole.

This leads me to explore your position carefully. Does God desire prayer? Does God want to listen to us?

Given my definition of God as Reality, I have no doubt as to God’s existence. But does God have desires? Does God desire to listen to my prayers? Certainly to the extent that I am God and I have desires we can say that God has desires. But this is on the microcosmic level. What about the God as the whole and not simply the part? Does God as the Source (and not just the Substance) of Reality have desires?

I would say “yes” only in this sense: God does not have free will. God has no choice but to be God, and cannot be other than God. Being God means that God manifests infinite possibility in such a way that some of that possibility becomes actualized and some of that actualized possibility discovers the capacity to realize that all is God. Since all of this is in the very nature of reality as God, and taking prayer to be a means for realizing the God-in-all-as-all nature of Nature, I would say that God desires prayer the way an acorn “desires” to become an oak tree: God desires to manifest parts capable of realizing the perspective of the whole.
Could God desire otherwise? No more than an acorn could desire to be a fig tree.

Does God listen to my prayer? In my daily prayer walks I talk with God. Not simply to God or at God, but with God. I hear God’s response. But I take this to be a lower spiritual experience filtered through my egoic consciousness. The way we humans meet is face to face, so the way God and I meet is Face to face. But this is a limitation of my ego not an accurate picture of the Divine-human relationship.

There are moments in my walking when the “distance” between God and myself vanishes. God is no longer “Other” but All. I sense God in me, as me. I feel God in and as all things around me. There is no talking at this point. God isn’t listening to me, but rather I am listening—or more accurately sensing since all my senses seem to be engaged in this experience— to the universe and sensing not a voice but a presence felt as love. These are brief moments of ecstasy that often leave me twirling, dancing, hugging trees, laughing, singing, and engaged in other bizarre and thankfully unobserved behavior.

In this way I absolutely agree with you that “prayer helps form us, freeing us from the illusion of false needs and teaching us to see clearly what we really need.” And what we really need is to realize God in all as all, and to allow that realization to transform us into vehicles for compassion and justice in the world.

I suspect you are saying something similar the notion of “rule” troubles me. When you say “we long for God's rule to become fully effective in us and the broader life of the world” I cannot help but think of those who claim to know what God’s rule is and who seek to impose it upon others. This Taliban-like quality exists in all three Abrahamic religions, and is often the greatest source of evil perpetrated in their names.

In any case I look forward to unpacking the Lord’s Prayer line by line, and happily await your getting us into this.

Mike: Matthew 6:7-13

2008-12-30T12:32:00.000-08:00

The Sermon on the Mount runs through Matthew 7:28. We'll probably skip direct commentary on 6:16-18, since it replicates the matters we've already covered when dealing with 6:1-6 (we can deal with the matter when we edit our materials).

All of which leads us to take up the Lord's Prayer, Matthew 6:7-13. The text (NRSV)reads as follows.

"When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. Pray then in this way: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one."

Fairly early in the church's history, a doxology was added: "For the kingdom and the power and the glory are yours,forever. Amen."

The prayer assumes God desires to hear our prayers, that it is right and sane to pray, and that good prayer connects us with the great matters of God. God does not have to be persuaded to listen, nor do our prayers inform God. Instead, in ways roughly analogous to a human parent, God already knows our deepest needs. Prayer helps form us, freeing us from the illusion of false needs and teaching us to see clearly what we really need.

And what is it we really need? We need to grow into a healthy relationship with this distant yet very near God. Our yearning must be reoriented, so that we long for God's rule to become fully effective in us and the broader life of the world. We must be freed from all desire for more than we need and become content to have "daily bread." We need to acknowledge our debts (or trespasses) and ask forgiveness, even as we also become the kind of people who extend forgiveness to others. Pride must be subdued and humility put in its place as we increasingly recognize our limits and cease from boasting. All such developments come to pass over time, as we embrace the practice of prayer.

Such prayer requires both words and silence, action and waiting, speaking and listening. Ideally, it becomes our mode of life, so that all other things are subsumed in prayer. The Lord's Prayer may help both the individual and a congregation take steps in this direction.

Obviously, there is much to unpack in the phrases of the prayer, but I thought it best to start our discussion with a summary statement.

Rami: Response to Mike's 12/29 Post

2008-12-30T10:25:00.001-08:00

I admire your consistency, Mike. Your comment, "We don't merge with God but choose instead to love and serve God, without whom we are incomplete," reminds of the Hindu saint Ramakrishna who said, “I love sugar, I don’t want to be sugar” when arguing for the fundamental otherness of God.

On the topic of literacy and interpretations of the Bible, it is fascinating that people continue to find new meanings in the text. With the exception of Christian Fundamentalists, whom I take to be biblical literalists, most Christians and Jews find the Bible quite malleable. For me there is no final meaning to the Bible. If there were it would be a dead text. It lives because I can allow my reading to reflect my life. We don’t read the Bible as must as read our reflection in the Bible.

Which brings me back to our project. I am not quite certain where in the text you plan to stop. So if there is more, please lets move on.

Mike: Response to Rami's 12/23 Post

2008-12-29T11:48:00.000-08:00

For the most part, I think you have described the differences in the two viewpoints quite well. I want to nuance one or two items. First, from my perspective a self is a soul, a unity. Second, the concept of self/soul may be, and often is, linked to punishment and reward. Such linkage, though, is not a given. Finally, you write "We don't merge with God; we realize that we are never other than God." I might write: "We don't merge with God but choose instead to love and serve God, without whom we are incomplete."

Turning to the matter of the Protestant Reformation, literacy and literalism, we need to be careful not to overstate the state of literacy in Luther's time. General literacy, of course, was not achieved for quite some time. Readers, though, were scattered throughout the population, and the easy availability of printed material enabled them to read aloud to large groups. Luther's translation of the scriptures into German accelerated the growth of literacy.

You are correct: Protestants attempted to focus on the meaning of the text. "Literal" probably is not the best term to describe most of their efforts. They, instead, sought what many of them would have called the "plain" meaning of the text. To put it another way, they sought the simplest interpretation of any given text and thus produced interpretations ranging from the literal to the allegorical.
As literacy grew, individuals produced an often bewildering variety of interpretations. Some branches on the ever-growing Protestant tree succumbed to the "literal only" approach.

I think you are on to something important with your suggestion that the availability of the Bible was so exciting that many could not imagine needing anything else. Most such persons became part of what historians usually call "The Radical Reformation." Over time, a majority of Protestants discovered the value of paying attention as well to interpretive tradition, experience and the quiet voice of Holy Spirit.

Rami: Response to Mike's 12/22 Post

2008-12-23T09:41:00.000-08:00

We often have slightly different takes on things, and our notion of “self” may be one of them.

You know that I spent ten years studying and practicing Zen Buddhism, and I admit that my understanding of “self” is colored by my experience in that setting. The “self” in the Buddhist context is a transient manifestation of equally transient conditions. It is often trapped in ignorance—literally ignoring the greater Reality of which it is a part, and insisting that it is separate and eternal in its own right. Maintaining the delusion of separation and permanence leads the “self” to live a life fueled by anger, greed, arrogance, and fear.

This idea of an eternal and separate self is essential to mainstream Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Without it, there is no soul and no eternal reward and punishment. My experience with meditation and other contemplative practices, as well as my reading of the world’s great mystics leads to me deny the existence of individual selves and souls as well as eternal reward and punishment.

I like the analogy of the ocean and the wave. The “self” is like the foam on the peak of the wave. It is a natural phenomenon, part of what it is to be a wave, but it insists that it is other than the wave and even more other than the ocean. The foam is the ego so desperately clinging to the illusion of its own separateness that it lives a life of alienation and needless suffering.

The wave is the truer self, or soul if you like. It too can be deceived into imagining it is other than the ocean, and when it does it feeds and is fed by the delusional fear of the foaming false self.

The ocean is Reality itself, God in my use of the term. It is not other than the wave or the foam, but it is infinitely greater than them.

The gift of enlightenment or salvation or awakening is the realization that foam, wave, and ocean are one. It isn’t that we live without a self or ego, but that we live without the false notion that we are separate from the wave and the ocean. We don’t merge with God; we realize that we are never other than God.

Regarding “your Father who is in secret,” I was afraid that the Greek original might not support my take on the English translation, but your mentioning of the Protestant Reformation raises another question for me.

Part of Martin Luther’s revolution rested on universal literacy and the technology of Guttenberg that allowed the average person to own her or his own Bible. I wonder if the miracle of literacy and the capacity to read what the Bible actually says rather than having to accept the interpretations offered by the Church led Protestants to focus on the literal meaning of the text. Being able to read what the Bible actually says was so important, so new, and so revolutionary that they couldn’t imagine needing anything else. Literacy and literalism may have gone hand in hand, and, at least in the beginning, necessarily so.

As for mystics and their maps—absolutely. All words are signs. The question is whether or not they point to something other them selves. We all agree that the word “unicorn” points to a white horse with a spiral horn in the center of its forehead, but we might well disagree as to whether such a being actually exists or ever exited. For the mystic, all words are self-referential, referring only to themselves. Only silence—deep, transformative silence—takes us beyond the map of words to encounter the territory of the real as it is in and of itself.

Merry Christmas, Mike.

Mike: Response to Rami's 12/16 Post

2008-12-22T09:43:00.000-08:00

Thanks for drawing attention to Csikszentmihalyi's description of the "flow state." His language captures the matter nicely!

Thinking back over the course of our ongoing conversation, I think we may differ in our visions for the self. You speak of a state in which "self is gone," and you view such an end as desirable. From my perspective each "self" is a creation of God, made not to merge with God but to enjoy God and be enjoyed by God. The problem is that the "selves" tend to go rogue. That is, we focus on ourselves, enter into competition with other selves, seek power over others, and attempt to reduce or eliminate God. To put it another way, we try to take the place of God rather than the place we were created to occupy.

The ideal for the self, from my perspective, is to see, acknowledge, and willingly embrace what one was created to be. When we do so, we cease to compete with others. We start to "enjoy" ourselves, others and God. We take up work for which we are suited. To borrow a New Testament image, we come home and find it the best of all possible states in which to live.

Interestingly, though, I think both our approaches may lead to the same kind of behavior toward ourselves and others.

Turning toward the phrase "your Father who is in secret," my only point was that I do not think the biblical text in question can support the weight of your inquiry. That being said, I'm all for a round of give and take over speculative matters!

For example, the four levels of biblical interpretation you mention remind me of the multiple levels of interpretation posited by some patristic and many medieval Christian bishops and scholars. I'll not go into detail at this point, other to stress how most taught that one needed to be introduced to the perspectives and skills needed to move through the various levels. The Protestant Reformation tended to discount this approach.

Some Christian Gnostics, of course, appear to have taught that a secret knowledge necessary to fully understand the scriptures was handed down from teacher to teacher. Gnosticism was a minority movement within broader ancient Christianity, though versions of it crop up throughout history.

The latter two possibilities you suggest find parallels in Christian mysticism. In all cases (I think), a given mystic would have acknowledged that even his or her own words were but a map, not the real God found in secret.

Rami: Response to Mike's 12/15 Post

2008-12-16T12:24:00.001-08:00

Wow! I love the idea that heaven is a condition rather than a reward. This places it outside of time: heaven is not a place we go to, but a condition we awaken to here and now. This is what Jesus may have meant (and to my mind should have meant and must have meant) when he said, “the Kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21). This is comparable to the Pure Land of Shin Buddhism and Nirvana in Zen Buddhism. Both are states of mind, conditions of being, to which we awaken, rather than places to which we go. Going implies time and distance, awakening is either there or it isn’t. You can’t be a little awake, at least not in this context.

As for selflessness I agree that it is very difficult to act without considering what’s in it for me, but I would say that when we are totally present to the moment, when we are fully awake to the Kingdom within and among us (to blend the King James and NRSV translations) we do in fact act without self.

We can get a glimpse of this in what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi in his marvelous study Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience calls the “flow state.” In this state time stops, self-consciousness fades, and we act effortlessly and joyously. Living the Kingdom of Heaven is living seamlessly with the Now, acting in accord with the moment in such a way as to help manifest the potential for love present in each moment. I suspect this is how Jesus is trying to teach us to live in the Sermon on the Mount. I wish organized religion devoted itself to teaching this as well, each using its won language and all pointing toward the same way of life.

You do mention some reward for selflessness, but to me selflessness is the reward, for with the ending of self arises the oneness of God, woman, man, and nature that is true Reality. If this is how Jesus recast the rabbinic ideal of lishmah—yasher koach! May his power increase!

You also seem to pit selflessness against self-reliance, linking the former to those “who depend upon God for all they truly need.” I wonder if there isn’t still a bit of self-hovering around those who depend on God. Indeed the very fact that they posit a God other then themselves suggests that they are not entirely selfless. True selflessness means that there is no egoic “I” at all: “Not I but Jesus in me,” as Paul might put it. In a sense when the self is gone so is the Other, not that God is absent when the self is absent, but God is all there is and hence there is no room for any other.

My original question dealt with Jesus’ phrase “your Father who is in secret.” It is such an odd phrase (I assume the Greek says this as well) that it demands parsing, though you opted not to do so. So let me try some ideas off the top of my head.

Try this: In Jesus’ day the rabbis spoke of four levels of biblical interpretation: the literal, the allegorical, the homiletical, and the mystical. This last is called “sod,” which is the Hebrew word for “secret.” While the first three levels are taught public, the fourth is hidden, only revealed by master to student, or by God. Could Jesus be referring to sod? Could he be saying something like, “your God who is revealed only in the secret teachings of Torah”?

Or try this: Jesus wants us to practice and pray in secret and it is in secret that God is found. Could it be that God is found only when we withdraw from self (a paradox for who is the I that withdraws?); only, in fact, when we end the self and dwell in the greater reality out of which the self emerges?

Or this: A secret is unknown. Perhaps that is where God dwells: in and as the unknown. All that is known, all our ideas about God and godliness, are like a map that we mistake for the territory. The map is an approximation, not the thing itself. The religious worship the map, indeed insist that the map is God and do their best to keep themselves and others from seeing and walking the territory directly. Jesus is calling us to put the map aside and engage with God directly. Since God is the unknown and unknowable, God is found in secret, in mystery, outside the fixed notions and behaviors of the pious. Jesus may be saying that only when we step beyond the known and allow ourselves to confront the unknown do we discover the Unknowable One beyond all thought and theory.

Obviously I am guessing here. Any thoughts?

Mike: Response to Rami's 12/13 Post

2008-12-15T11:25:00.000-08:00

Let's start by admitting that most Christians in any given era buy into the idea of rewards. Christians debate the nature, extent and timing of such rewards. That being said, many Christians in any given era teach the highest standard involves becoming the kind of person who practices righteousness without thought of reward. Fuzzy thinking, biblical illiteracy, unexamined religious traditions, and human nature often combine to complicate the picture.

That being said, I see the matter as follows.

(1) Jesus did not teach that heaven is a reward. Heaven is a condition, potentially experienced at any moment and potentially eternal. Heaven is to live in right relationship with God in each instant. Heaven is the kind of life God intended for humanity.

(2) It is incredibly difficult for any of us to undertake acts of righteousness without weighing the possible benefits to ourselves. Such benefits may include the approval of others. More subtly, we may fall into the trap of praising ourselves, of basing our sense of worth on the number or quality of our righteous works. Both approaches are highly self-concious, and both push us to do good things for the sake of a reward.

(3) In the passage, Jesus teaches his followers not to let one hand know what the other is doing. The core idea seems to be that his disciples are to be unselfconcious. In such a state, they may do good things without thought of any reward. They become so immersed in life with God that they no longer pay attention to the response of others or even themselves to their good works. Ideally, they become selfless.

(4) Jesus adds a surprise: God rewards the selfless. Such people will not expect a reward. They will be surprised by it, and are apt to try to give it away to someone else. They are like those who respond (paraphrased): "When did we see you in trouble, Jesus, and help you." They do not serve for the sake of any reward but instead do so because such service is part and parcel of their identity, an identity shaped by their growing intimacy with God. If this is true, I do not think Jesus abandoned the rabbinic standard of lishmah so much as he recast it.

With all of the above in mind, I tend to look upon the Christians you describe as people who have taken a first step. God has spoken to them, calling them to himself. Bound by culture (usually many layers of culture), they hear and interpret the call in terms of the life they know. There is no shame in starting from where one is, and God loves us more than enough to come and find us where we are (that's one implication of Incarnation, by the way). First steps, though, should never be last steps. As we follow Jesus, all of us should grow in our capacity for selflessness. Selflessness, of course, is only possible for those who depend upon God for all they actually need.

Finally, I think I understand the facination of the phrase "your Father who is in secret." How could any mystic not focus on it? In the case of the passage, though, I think it wise not to read too much into matter. The essential idea is that "God knows." God knows what it is like to work quietly and unobserved, and God sees all that is done in secret, including quiet deeds of righteousness. The more deeply we move into relationship with such a God, the more we adopt God's mode of operation.

Rami: Response to Mike's 12/10 Post

2008-12-13T15:06:00.002-08:00

I agree with your take on this passage, Mike, but I am troubled by Jesus’ linking of piety (I think a better translation from the Greek would be ‘righteousness’), charity, and prayer to heavenly reward.

While the rabbis of Jesus’ day did speak of heavenly rewards, they argued that the highest good was doing good for its own sake. The term they used (and which we continue to use) is lishmah, doing something for its own sake, simply because it is right. I don’t understand why Jesus would opt for a lesser standard than his contemporaries, especially when, as we have seen, he is not averse to demanding a higher standard than his rabbinic colleagues when he feels it necessary to do so.

I don’t want to make more of this than we should, but I have often been surprised in discussions with devout Christians when the issue of lishmah is raised (by me) and dismissed (by them). I have been told on numerous occasions that it is the purpose of faith to insure that the faithful escape eternal damnation in hell. “If there were no hell,” I have been told on numerous occasions, “there would be no reason to be a Christian.”

If these were the random thoughts of a few uninformed lay people, I would simply chalk it up to ignorance. Unfortunately I hear this kind of thing over and over from supposedly educated clergy. It is hard to dismiss as misinformation. The notion of doing good in order to earn a reward seems to be at the heart of Jesus’ message here, and hence at the heart of contemporary Christianity as well (or at least a certain kind of contemporary Christianity).

Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not claiming that Judaism is free of such thinking. It isn’t. The essence of the Jewish relationship with God is covenantal, contractual: we will do “x” and God will do “y.” But the rabbis of Jesus’ day did try to lift the people beyond this quid pro quo level of theology with the idea of lishmah, doing right for its own sake.

So here are a couple of questions to which I would ask you to respond: 1) Do you think the need of many Christians to link piety to reward stems from this teaching of Jesus? and 2) Why do you think Jesus didn’t push for the higher rabbinic standard of lishmah?

On a separate matter, I am quite taken with Jesus’ advice regarding prayer: that we shut ourselves in our room and pray to our Father “who is in secret”. As you noted, it isn’t hard to see how those who challenge the value of community worship would hold up this teaching to argue against such prayer, and, as I am sure you agree, it isn’t a matter or either/or. There is a place for public worship as well as for private prayer and meditation.

But what intrigues me is the phrase “your Father who is in secret”. I have no idea what this means. I would love some insight into this and would very much like to hear how you understand it.

Mike: Response to Rami's 2/12 Post

2008-12-10T12:05:00.000-08:00

"Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven. So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that others may praise them. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. And whenever you pray, do not pray like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that others may see them. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you." (Matthew 6:1-6) (NRSV)

Jesus focuses again on motivations. He uses two examples: almsgiving and prayer.

As I understand the matter, first century Jews regarded giving alms to the poor, whether directly or as part of synagogue worship, as an act of piety. It was the right thing to do. Jesus accepts both the practice and its purpose. His quarrel does not lie with the poor, or with those who use a well-established means to help them. Instead, Jesus takes issue with those who use the institution not to honor God or help others but to win applause for themselves.

In like fashion, Jesus does not have a problem with public prayers per se. He objects to those who use public prayers to win praise.

The hypocrisy, in both cases, lies in claiming to do something for the sake of others or in honor of God, while actually giving or praying in order to enhance one's reputation.

Far better, Jesus maintains, to give alms and pray in private. The poor will receive aid and God will be honored. The giver/prayer will be insulated from the temptation to do the right thing for the wrong reason.

I've known many who misuse the passage to discourage public prayer of any kind, providing relief to the poor, or being held accountable in any way for what they do by way of prayer or almsgiving. Such applications abuse the passage and miss Jesus' point--namely, that we are to seek to become selfless, utterly unselfconscious, in all things, including prayer and almsgiving. Insomuch as we do so, we become more nearly like God.

Rami: Response to Mike's 12/2 Post

2008-12-02T10:39:00.000-08:00

Christianity has no monopoly on circular reasoning. Ask any Jew about the notion that we are the Chosen People. How do we know God chose us? It is written in the Torah. Who wrote the Torah? We did. Duh. Even if your answer to the second question is "God wrote the Torah" the follow up question, "Who says God wrote the Torah?" ends up in the same place. Jews say God wrote the Torah. Even Christians and Muslims who also claim the Torah is divine revelation base their claims on the Jews.

One cannot escape the fact that in the end it is the individual who decides what is true or false for her or himself. Given the fact that we have no objective way of determining this, our conclusions should be drenched with humility.

Anyway, back to our text?

Mike: Response to Rami's 11/26 Post

2008-12-02T06:44:00.000-08:00

The student's response is a classic example of circular reasoning, to put the most charitable interpretation on the matter. It is another example of the church's failure to teach people how to think well. Circular reasoning employed in the service of religious tribalism strengthens bigotry and fuels religious wars, both private and large-scale.

"Jesus is Lord" is the earliest known Christian confession of faith. What we do with it matters. In the early church, the statement was not used as a weapon or to divide. Instead, the confession marked one's personal commitment to try to follow Jesus. Most also regarded it as descriptive of their experience of God through "the risen Christ." It was a declaration of identity and intention. To put it another way, the confession amounted to a person saying: "This is who I am--someone for whom Jesus is the center of my life."

Those who take such an approach usually find themselves walking a road that leads to deepening humility, appreciation for the image of God in all others, and sacrifice for the good of others. The way is narrow, though, and too few walk it.

Rami: Response to Mike's 11/26 Post

2008-11-26T14:59:00.000-08:00

Just a quick comment on "Jesus is Lord."

This came up in my comparative religion class at Middle Tennessee State. We were discussing the Koran, and a very devout and fundamentalist Christian student responded to the question, "How do we know which Holy Scripture is the true Holy Scripture" with the following:

"Since Jesus is Lord and Savior the Old Testament is true because it predicts the coming of Jesus, and the New Testament is true because it affirms that Jesus is Lord, but the Koran is false because it does not affirm Jesus is Lord."

This is the kind of hubris that breaks my heart and feeds the darkest ignorance. I know for a fact that I could have gotten the same kind of response from Muslims and Jews, so this isn't about Christianity. It is about the way we approach religion and spirituality.

I am grateful to have a friend like you with whom to talk about these things.

Have a great Thanksgiving.

Mike: Response to Rami's 11/25 Post

2008-11-25T11:47:00.000-08:00

Well, when you put that way (nicely phrased, by the way), I do not think we disagree on the outcome of transformation by God. You wrote: "This is what I take transformation to be about: not a willed surrender to a fixed way of being, but a surrender of the will as a prelude to a new and unprecedented way of being more fully filled with God and godliness. This transformation cannot be an act of the conditioned will, and must be the result of grace--the surrender of the will to God by God." We agree. Once again, we've bumped up against the limits of written conversation. Thanks for unpacking the matter.

As for Christians and anti-Semitism, I hope I did not overstate the case. The mindset the two of us bring to interpreting scriptures remains a minority mindset at the present time. I dare hope it is growing in influence and that it will be the majority mindset in the near future.

Humility coupled with love is the ultimate value for a God-oriented person. It's a safeguard (not infallible, but useful) against using texts to coerce others to accept our own agendas.

Yes, if we accept the idea that we must assign different values to various portions of scripture, we also must recognize that anyone can elevate a given text according to his or her personal perspective.

Classic convictions of our respective faith traditions may help guide us. For example, the earliest Christian confession of faith is "Jesus is Lord." That core confession draws us to pay attention first to the stories of Jesus, to try to understand and love and follow Jesus. This tends to lead us to judge other scriptures on the basis of Jesus. Christians who start with Revelation, violence-supportive Hebrew scriptures, or even the writings of Paul miss the mark. Jesus, from a Christian perspective, is the Great Corrective or Standard. It is possible to read Christian history as the story of how we Christians forget this is so, only to rediscover it.

Enjoy Thanksgiving. We'll pick up with the conversation next week.

Rami: Response to Mike's 11/24 Post

2008-11-25T10:43:00.000-08:00

I was surprised to hear that you think we differ regarding “transformation by the power of God.” This must be due to the way I word things, because I do indeed believe in this transformative power. Here is how I understand the matter.

Basing my understanding of God on Exodus 3:14 where God reveals the Name Ehyeh asher Ehyeh, I shall be what I shall be, I take creativity to be an essential attribute of God.

God is forever surprising Him/Her/Itself by manifesting new and unprecedented ways of being. I think this is why God uses the process of evolution: evolution is nothing if not the on-going experiment with new and surprising life forms. I think the aim of evolution is the eventual manifestation of a level of consciousness that not can be surprised, but knows what surprise it, and sees it all around. On this planet at this time that life form is human. We are the way God gets the world to say, “Wow!”

We participate in the creativity of God when we, too, step out of our conditioned selves to be in the world in new and unique ways. This is what I take transformation to be about: not a willed surrender to a fixed way of being, but a surrender of the will as a prelude to a new and unprecedented way of being more fully filled with God and godliness. This transformation cannot be an act of the conditioned will, and must be the result of grace—the surrender of the will to God by God.

I am certainly pleased to hear that anti-Semitism is on the wane in Christianity, and also intrigued by your notion that we can assign different values to different texts in the Bible. I agree with both points, and find the second vital to salvaging biblical religion from god-sanctioned violence. The problem is that anyone can elevate any text at the expense of any other.

For example, I value those teachings of the Bible, Jewish and Christian, that speak to universal justice and compassion, and devalue those that do not. But I know Christians who value the Book of Revelation over the Sermon on the Mount, and posit a very violent Christianity that seems absolutely at odds with Jesus as I read him. And I know Jews who read the entire Torah in light of God’s promise of the Holy Land, and use that promise to excuse terrible injustice against Palestinians. And then there is the historical case of Baptists (for example) splitting over slavery in pre-Civil War times. Some cited Scripture to prove slavery is God-sanctioned and other quoted different Scripture to prove it is not. So we are left with people using Scripture and God to promote their own agendas.

This is why, for me, the ultimate value in religion and theology is “humility.” A classic Jewish commentary on Micah 6:8 (“walk humbly with your God) asks why does the Torah say “your God” rather than simply “God.” The answer is that each of us has our own idea of “God” whose purpose is to serve our egoic desires. It is this “God” with whom we have to walk humbly, recognizing that “my god” isn’t God, but only my understanding of God. You are right that we “cannot rid ourselves of theology,” but we can recognize it for what it is: me creating god in my own image for my own ends.

Last thought: focusing on the stories of Jesus. I couldn’t agree more. The stories about Jesus and the stories/parables Jesus tells are timeless and vital to anyone seeking to explore the deepest/highest aspects of spiritual transformation. I would couple these with the Islamic stories of Mullah Nasrudin, Hasidic tales, the Taoist stories written by Chuang Tzu, and a few others to create a world story bible of universal wisdom.

I will have to mull that project over for a while. In the meantime, Mike, have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and deeply transformative Advent.

Mike: Response to Rami's 11/19 Post

2008-11-25T05:58:00.001-08:00

Actually, I think we're very nearly agreed about our capacity to separate feelings from actions. Confrontation versus controlling, raising questions, learning to see new possibilities, the opportunity for new feelings to develop, the realization that all life is interdependent--we're on the same page. We differ, I think, in that I harbor an additional hope: transformation by the power of God. The difference, of course, roots in our individual understanding of God.

Anti-Semitism is the core sin of the Christian movement. You're right. It's embedded in the background perspective of Christianity's scriptures, and Christians (across the centuries)bear responsiblity for failing to deal with the matter. Refreshingly, many Christian scholars now take the historical context of the New Testament's development seriously. The "Emergent Church" movement does as well. Over the next few decades, I expect such a perspective to become the majority viewpoint among American Christians.

Our discussion of "the dark side" of God seems to have two different threads. On the one hand, the bible stories you mention depict God as the source of various evils, always in the service of some so-called larger purpose. If we read the Bible as a flat text, that is with all parts having the same value and validity, we have no choice but to assign responsibility to God.

The alternative is to assign greater and corrective value to some texts. Many of us in Christianity insist on evaluating all biblical texts in light of what we think we know of God as revealed in Jesus. On that basis, we reject any theology that requires God to endorse genocide, murder, and the like.

All of which to leads to another point, one you put well: "...God and theology are not the same thing." You're right.

We cannot rid ourselves of theology. So long as we think and feel, we will construct theologies. That being said, Christians would do well to focus on the stories of Jesus. When we do so, we find most classic theologies challenged at many points. The example you cite (the significance of the cross) is a prime example. When I take Jesus seriously, I see in the cross and resurrection a declaration of God's boundless love for all people, a love which cannot ultimately be defeated. When we see, admit and accept this love, we are increasingly free to attempt to practice such love ourselves.

We've covered a great deal of ground in a few short paragraphs. If there's more to be said, have at it. Otherwise I'll plunge into the next text.

Rami: Response to Mike's 11/18 Post

2008-11-19T09:19:00.000-08:00

It looks that we will never agree on our capacity to separate feelings from actions. I suspect you mean something far more profound than I do in this regard. Just imagine how much worse the world would be if people acted on every feeling that arose in their psyches. It is bad enough as it is. Nevertheless, I am very much in favor of “confronting our feelings” rather than controlling them. To confront our feelings inevitably leads to questioning them, and questioning them leaves open the possibility that they are inappropriate or that if we based our behavior on them our behavior would be inappropriate. This requires a high level of self-awareness.

And with that level of awareness comes the opportunity for new feelings. When we operate from the reptilian brain we are all about sex, war, and food. Regardless of what or whom we meet we are going to mate with it, battle it, or eat it. But this is a low level of human functioning. The higher mammalian brain calls us to love, altruism, caring, and compassion. When this brain dominates our feelings are elevated. And when we operate form the highest brain justice and righteousness also come into play. As we move from lower to higher brain functioning we expand our sense of “neighbor” and community.

I think there is an even higher “soul sense” that biologists cannot find that lifts us into the realization that all life is interdependent, and that to love my neighbor as my self is to realize that my neighbor includes all life, sentient and otherwise. I believe that Jesus and other God-realized prophets call us to this level of spiritual awakening.

Just a quick comment on Christian anti-Semitism. The Gospels, like all books sacred or otherwise, have an agenda, and, given the history of their time, part of that agenda was to paint the Jews as the enemies of Jesus even to the extent of blaming them rather than the Romans for his murder. The fact that this kind of thinking continues is an indictment of Christian education; a reluctance to read their sacred texts in the context of history. This is changing with the scholarship of people like Marcus Borg, Bishop Spong, and Dominic Crossan, but it is a slow process.

To be a Christian and an anti-Semite is to attack Jesus’ mother, brothers, the apostles and Jesus himself. But for too many Christians the realization that Jesus was a Jew and that his religion was Judaism is a shock, and perhaps too much to bear.

The notion that God has a dark side is difficult for many people to understand, let alone accept. Even your reference to Paul sidesteps the issue, though I am in full agreement with your notion that both rah and tov must die in the resurrected self.

Few of us doubt that people have a dark side, but that is only half of what I am saying. God has a dark side. It comes out in the Book of Job, in the Flood story, in God’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart in order to demonstrate God’s power, and in all the acts of God-sanctioned murder and genocide in the Hebrew Bible and the Book of Revelation.

In my classes at MTSU when the subject of God’s love comes up students want to argue that God is love and that love is absolute. But then what do we do with the notion that if not for the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross God would condemn all humankind once again? And what do we make of the notion of God condemning the vast majority of humanity (and most Christians by some accounts) to eternal damnation. I would never do such a thing. Can it be that I am more loving than God?

I doubt it. What I offer my students is the notion that God and theology are not the same thing. If God is love, religions are not. Religions and theologies reflect the agendas and biases of their all too human creators. I don’t believe Jesus called us to religion, but to God, and the God he spoke of in his parables is not the damning brutal God of so many theologians.

My opinion is this: we have too many priests, pastors, rabbis, imams, and swamis and not enough God.

Mike: Response to Rami's 11/13 Post

2008-11-18T10:02:00.000-08:00

Interesting, isn't it, how we are driven toward certain questions, whether we're dealing with the Ten Commandments, the Beatitudes, or the body of the Sermon on the Mount? At least three resurface in your post: the matter of feelings, Jesus' creative use of existing themes in the Judaism of his time, and the light and dark sides of God.

Let's start with feelings. As I've noted at other times, I deeply appreciate the possible distinction between how we feel and how we act. We can choose to act lovingly toward enemies, regardless of our feelings. Doing so, though, still requires that we recognize and confront our feelings and judge hatred (and its kin)wanting. Over the long haul, I'm not convinced we can maintain a separation between feelings and actions. Jesus, in my opinion,recognized this reality. In "good Jewish fashion," he began with actions, but it seems clear from the tone and content of the Sermon of the Mount that he also dared hope feelings could be transformed as well.

Both of us probably could provide (or find)testimonies from those who have experienced such transformation. To my mind, such accounts matter. They strongly suggest our feelings can change, or be changed. Jesus' vision moves beyond the question of controlling our feelings. He seems to call us to yearn for new and better ones. This particular topic gets caught up in the larger Christian dream of a life made new by God.

As to Jesus' creative use of Jewish themes, I think we are in full agreement. The very idea makes some Christians uncomfortable. A few probably harbor a bit of antisemitism. Most, though, are guilty only of muddled thinking, the kind that insists Jesus's perspective and teachings must stand alone, divorced from historical setting or precedent. Such thinking ignores the implications of the Incarnation, to put it gently.

The light and dark sides of God--now there's a matter that has deep roots in Jewish history and interesting outbreaks in Christianity's story. We've played with Yetzer haTov and Yetzer haRah in previous posts. Christian scholars began to wrestle with the topic as they became better acquainted with rabbinic writings. Some Christians speak in terms how light must always cast a shadow. Personally, I think the concept lies in back of the Apostle Paul's confession that he does not always do what he wills to do, not to mention his insistance that the "fleshly person" must die that the "spiritual person" might live.

We may be close to a functional agreement on what to do with our two natures. You write, "Maybe we can understand Jesus' command to be perfect to be a call to recognize our dual nature and place rah in the service of tov, just as God softens His judgment with His compassion." From my perspective, rah and tov both must die in favor of a "resurrected" and unified self, characterized by grace and strength and genuine wisdom, by a new life devoted to the worship and service of God.

These, of course, are deep matters. I am not certain I've yet found the language to express them well. Ah, yes...that's one of the purposes behind our conversation!

Rami: Response to Mike's 11/13 Post

2008-11-13T17:45:00.000-08:00

There is no doubt that this is a challenging teaching. Let me go into it slowly, beginning with the notion of “hate”.

As you said, Mike, the Hebrew Bible doesn’t enjoin us to hate our enemies, but I doubt Jesus has the Bible in mind here. He is living under brutal Roman oppression, and may well be addressing the hatred Jews have of their Roman occupiers. Translating his teaching into our time would be as if Jesus were calling us to love the Taliban and Osama bin Laden.

And then there is the question of Luke 14:26, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” And John 12: 25, “Those who love their life, lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” In these passages Jesus seems to be obligating his followers to hatred. How are we to understand this?

Then there is the notion of “love”. Is Jesus talking about feeling loving toward our enemies? Or, in good Jewish fashion, is he talking about acting lovingly toward them? For example, Exodus 23:4 commands that if you find your enemy’s ox or donkey you have to return the animal to him or her regardless of how you feel about the person. Since we cannot control our feelings— indeed by the time we recognize that we have feelings that might need controlling we have already felt them— there is no point in commanding certain feelings. But we can control our behavior. Hence Proverbs 25:21, “If your enemy is hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he is thirsty, give him water to drink.”

But I may be too narrow in my thinking. Proverbs 24:17-18 does seem to speak to feelings: “Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and do not let your heart be glad when he stumbles,” so maybe there is a way to control our feelings even if I can’t find one.

And then there is “pray for those who persecute you.” This, too, is found in the Torah Jesus learned. Moses prays for Pharaoh five times (see Exodus 8:24-27, for example); Job prayed for his enemies (Job 42:9), David prayed for Saul (I Samuel 24:12), and Jeremiah urges the Hebrew people to pray for the Babylonians (Jeremiah 29:7).

My point here is simply that Jesus is not inventing a new way of living, but rather gathering threads from his Jewish culture to weave a new Judaism bearing his special emphasis.

It is Jesus’ last admonition—“Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect”—that I find the most challenging. You are taking this to be “mature” or “complete,” by which I guess you mean something like “be consistent in your loving actions toward your enemies, as God is consistent when He shines the sun upon the good and the evil alike.”

If this is what Jesus means, then I think we can all work toward this level of moral consistency. But what if he does mean something more? What if, as you say, “perfect” means “complete,” and “complete” means “whole,” and “whole” means inclusive of opposites?

God seems to have a light and dark side. He can be loving and wrathful. The mere fact that there is a Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden suggests that there must be some evil to know. Where could that come from if not God? God is the source of all reality, and reality is comprised of opposites: up and down, in and out, right and wrong, good and evil, mercy and judgment, etc.

Being made in the image and likeness of God, we, too, have these opposites embedded in us. To be perfect, whole, complete, is to recognize what Judaism calls our Yetzer haTov and Yetzer haRah, our innate capacity for good and evil respectively. According to the rabbis both capacities are necessary for human life and flourishing. Evil, rooted in concern for the self, is the yeast that motivates us to marry, raise a family, and run a business. It is called “evil” because if taken to extremes, that is if left untempered by our capacity for good, it can lead to terrible abuses in marriage, family rearing, and business practices.

Similarly the capacity for good is rooted in selflessness, and, unless balanced by the capacity for self-focus, leads to loss of self and failure to achieve anything of value to regarding oneself or one’s community. To be a successful human each inclination must be yoked to the other. In effect, the Yetzer haRah is the energy for doing, and the Yetzer haTov is the direction that insures our doing is for the good.

Maybe we can understand Jesus’ command to be perfect to be a call to recognize our dual nature and place rah in service of tov, just as God softens His judgment with His compassion.

Mike: Matthew 5:43-47

2008-11-13T08:13:00.000-08:00

"You have head that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:43-47) (NRSV)

The test of true religion is how we act toward those who hate or harm us, or whom we have been taught to treat as enemies.

"You shall love your neighbor" is drawn from Leviticus 19:18. "Hate your enemy" presents a problem. To the best of my knowledge, this specific language is not found in the Hebrew Bible. On the other hand, any number of passages acknowledge the existence of such feelings. Going beyond texts, I think it reasonable to conclude many a parent taught their children to observe both maxims. Frankly, it's human nature.

Which, of course, is Jesus' point: "What more are you doing than others? For someone of the Christian tradition, the injunction to love and pray for even enemies narrows our options. At the very least, if we take Jesus seriously we're forced to examine our typical reactions.

Rami, I took this matter seriously even as a child. The rural school I attended featured serious divisions among the students. To be frank,all students had friends and enemies. Your enemies could (and usually did) hurt you, not only in terms of shunning and teasing but sometimes to the point of physical violence. Naturally, we were tempted to buy into the system, choose our side, and go to war.

I wanted to do so, but each time I started down that road I stumbled over this teaching of Jesus. Sometimes I got up, shook the dust from my sneakers, and plunged into the fray. More often, though, I chose not to hurt "my enemies." Worse, I felt compelled to try to help at least some of them in the ways available to me: a kind word, a bit of help with homework, choosing them for a sports team, and the like. To put it mildly, such behavior was not well received by my "friends." I wish I could honestly say that all the teachings of Jesus took hold so strongly during my youth!

Looking back, I now know I was being granted a taste of the loneliness which comes to any of us who depart from the norm.

The scripture passage teaches that those who follow Jesus' injunction may "be perfect" even as God is perfect. A better translation might be "mature" or perhaps even "complete." Love in action, without regard for the categories of friend and enemy, completes a follower of Jesus. In our better moments we remember this is so. Too often, we forget.

Rami: Response to Mike's 11/10 Post

2008-11-11T18:57:00.001-08:00

This is what makes our dialogue so much fun! We agree just enough to be able to speak meaningfully to one another, and disagree just enough to be able to learn constructively from one another. I agree with everything you said. So let's move on!

Mike: Response to Rami's November 4 Post

2008-11-10T06:34:00.000-08:00

We, indeed, are in substantial agreement. As for your suggested additions and revisions, here's a brief response.

1. Agreed. Let's expand the maxim to include all creation.

2. I chose the term "flirt" with considerable intention. The sexual/relational connotations rest on insights from some of the prophets.

3. We differ a bit on the matter of pacifism. Insofar as I can tell, pacifism (which is a logical component of nonviolence)is the ideal of Jesus. When we take up weapons, we fall short of the ideal. I forsee no possibility of the ideal being realized at the corporate level, though individuals may on occasion attain it. The ideal, though, pushes us to make violence a last resort rather than a preemptive or first response.

4. We agree.

5. We agree.

6. Upon reflection, I think you are correct! The one caution I would urge is that we be careful not to indulge in self-righteousness when evaluating other's response to evil.

7. We agree.

8. We agree.

As for the remainder of your interesting post, as you know we hold different assumptions. From my perspective, all scriptures must be read and evaluated in light of what we believe we know about Jesus. When it comes to the Hebrew Bible texts you mention, my assumption drives me to at least two conclusions. First, the teachings and actions of Jesus make it impossible for me to maintain that God sanctions such violence. Second, I tend to think much of the Bible is a record of how humans apprehend or misapprehend God. God, to my way of thinking, gets a great deal of bad press, taking the blame for decisions made by humans, all of whom were conditioned by the culture(s) of their day.

Both of us, I think, argue that violence is part of the human heritage, ingrained in us both by genetics and culture. Controlling our violence is commendable. Transforming our natures, or from my perspective experiencing such transformation in partnership with God, remains a legitimate hope.

Rami: Response to Mike's 11/3 Post

2008-11-04T10:36:00.000-08:00

I don't have a complimentary list, Mike, and I find yours very helpful. So let me just work with that.

1. That which dehumanizes you or others is evil. This is a fine definition as far as it goes, but I would like to go beyond the anthropocentric and that anything that debases life is evil. Now we can include human acts of animal cruelty and environmental degradation as acts of evil as well.

2. Do not flirt with such evil or pretend it can be accommodated or tamed. I love your choice of verb. To “flirt” has a sexual connotation that may indeed be apropos, though we would have to flesh it out (yes, pun intended).

3. Never take up the weapons of evil to resist evil. Are weapons used in defense of oneself and one’s people evil? I admit to not being a pacifist, so this idea is a difficult one for me to accept.

4. Accept the necessity of personal suffering. There is a cost for resisting evil. If we are not willing to pay it, we cannot succeed.

5. Embrace humility. Humility is the antidote to pride, and pride is the fuel of much evil. I love the prophet Micah’s insight: “walk humbly with your God, (Micah 6:8). Why “your God” rather than just “God”? Because, so say the rabbis, each of us has our own idea of God and none of us has the whole of God, so Micah is telling us to be humble about our faith and our certainty.

6. Do not presume to judge how others respond to evil; be content to live out your vision. I have no problem with making judgments, and I believe there are evil responses to evil (torturing of prisoners, even terrorists, being one example). So I would argue that if we have a standard for resisting evil we should use it to measure the quality of other resistant movements as well.

7. Do not, in your mind or deeds or words, dehumanize your oppressors--treat them as you wish they treated others. This is one application of your first principle, and I wholeheartedly agree. There is an interesting documentary on the dehumanizing propaganda of the Japanese, Germans, and Americans during WWII. The Nazis dehumanized whole groups: Jews, Gypsies, Americans; the Americans did the same with its racist anti-Japanese cartoons; but the Japanese themselves limited their attacks to the Allied leadership and not all Americans or Europeans. Dehumanizing groups is the first step to annihilating them.

8. Make nonviolent resistance to evil a life's work. I agree. One who is only occasionally nonviolent is not nonviolent at all. Nonviolence isn’t a tactic.

• • •

So we are in substantial agreement regarding your list, but let’s not stop here. We are assuming that nonviolence is indeed the ideal, but why make that assumption? Especially when dealing with a sacred text that has God sanctioning the most horrendous acts of genocide.

God seems to have no problem with violence as long as it is done at His behest. God’s destruction of all land-based life outside the Ark (Genesis 6-9); God’s promise to drive out the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites (Joshua 3:10); God’s sanctioning the murder of all the men, women, children, and animals of Jericho (Joshua 6:21); God’s command to commit genocide against the people of Amalek (1 Samuel 15;1-3); and the murder of all nonbelievers in the Book of Revelation make it clear that God is not a God of nonviolence. Can Jesus’ single teaching that those who live by the sword shall die by the sword (Matthew 26:52) turn the tide against the Murderous God of the Bible?

Since I believe the Bible is of human origin, reflecting the best and worst of what we humans are capable, I would argue (nonviolently of course) that violence is part of our DNA, and that seeking to impose nonviolence on instinctually violent creatures such as ourselves is itself an act of violence.

The question for me is this: Can we transform ourselves rather than simply control ourselves when it comes to violence? Can we literally change our minds and hence our responses? Can we, to use New Testament terminology, put on the mind of Christ, (1 Corinthians 2:5; 2:16)?

I think we can. When we cultivate a capacity for contemplative self-observation; when we can look at our capacity for violence without reacting; then we can be free from this instinct and be in the world in a new way.

Short of this truly revolutionary step, I think we can rely on the Golden Rule and refrain from doing unto others what is abhorrent to ourselves.

Mike: Reply to Rami's 10/21 Posting

2008-11-03T12:30:00.000-08:00

Your post put me to thinking about guidelines for those who embrace a "nonviolent way to resist an unjust system of oppression." I think, as you might imagine, that one resists not only systems but individuals. Here's a first draft of my list.

1. That which dehumanizes you or others is evil. No so-called necessity, philosophical or political difference, or vision of society can justify dehumanization.

2. Do not flirt with such evil or pretend it can be accommodated or tamed. Many have tried such approaches and failed. Inevitably, those who do so wind up supporting or ignoring evil for the sake of some supposed long-term good.

3. Never take up the weapons of evil to resist evil. Do no violence. Remember that the weapons we use may ultimately define or redefine us.

4. Accept the necessity of personal suffering. You may be hit, arrested, imprisoned, exiled, or killed. Suffering is the price you pay for nonviolent resistance to evil.

5. Embrace humility. Nothing is stranger than a pride-filled nonviolent prophet.

6. Do not presume to judge how others respond to evil; be content to live out your vision.

7. Do not, in your mind or deeds or words, dehumanize your oppressors--treat them as you wish they treated others.

8. Make nonviolent resistance to evil a life's work--occasional nonviolence accomplishes little.

Well, it's a start. Do you have a list?

Rami: Response to Mike's 10/21 Post

2008-10-22T08:32:00.001-07:00

Yes, Jesus is too radical to be tamed! God is too radical to be tamed! I often think religion is about taming God, and that is what troubles me the most about it. So let’s take a look at some of Jesus’ radicalism.

If we are to understand Jesus' teachings on "turning the left cheek," "going the extra mile," and "giving one's cloak" we have to see them in the context of his situation.

Striking a person backhand on the right cheek was the way Roman soldiers debased the Jews: striking them as one might strike a dog. Slapping a person open handed on the left cheek, though a sign of anger, was also an affirmation of human equality. Jesus is saying, “Do not resist the evil of the backhanded slap, but dare the oppressor to strike you as an equal.” This puts the Roman soldier in the morally awkward position of having to elevate your status from subhuman to human, walk away, or beat you senseless despite the fact that you did not threaten the soldier with bodily harm. In any of these three cases the soldier loses, and the seeds of moral discontinuity are planted in both the soldier and those who witness the soldier’s dilemma.

The same is true of carrying a soldier’s gear the “extra mile.” Roman law allowed soldiers to grab Jews off the street and treat them as pack animals for up to one mile. Jesus is saying, “Do not resist the insult of being treated as a pack animal. Rather, when your service is up, insist upon carrying the gear as a free human being.” This act of generosity again puts the soldier in a morally untenable situation. He cannot force you to carry his pack, and has to force you to return it to him. Even if he again chooses to beat you senseless the rationale for his actions—that you wished to help him carry his gear—makes his action and the system that supports it appear more and more immoral.

In both cases the person following Jesus’ challenge places him or herself in danger of being beaten, but the beating is morally unjustifiable even by the soldier doing the beating. You are not endangering the soldier, so he cannot claim self-defense. You are simply refusing to accept his assumption that you are less than him. This is so very important: Jesus is challenging us to resist our own dehumanization as well as to cease dehumanizing others. This challenge is no less relevant today than 2000 years ago.

Jesus’ reference to the cloak shifts his concern from Roman occupation to the corrupt courts run by the Roman collaborating Jewish establishment. The courts are enforcing a system of injustice that keeps the majority of the population impoverished. The Bible speaks of everyone sitting unafraid under her vine and her fig tree (Micah 4:4), but in Jesus day most people had been robbed of their ancestral lands and reduced to tenant farming on land owned by absentee landlords. Poverty and injustice were rampant. The system had lost its moral foundation, and greed rather than godliness was its watchword.

Jesus is saying, “If they take your outer garment because you cannot pay whatever monies the unjust system says you owe, give them your undergarment as well. Walk out of the courthouse naked.” In a culture that finds nakedness more than a little troubling, this act of defiance makes a clear yet nonviolent statement about the corrupt nature of the legal system. “Look what the system is doing to us!” such an act says. “Look how we are violated!” The outrage such political theater would engender could lead to a revolution. Jesus didn’t have to raise an army to frighten the Romans and their collaborators. He only had to revive the prophetic spirit.

All of this is glorious prophetic theater. Jesus knows, contra the Zealots, that the people cannot rise up and defeat the Romans militarily. (They will try a few decades later, resulting in an exile lasting for almost 2000 years.) He also knows that collaboration ala the Sadducees is immoral. But he is equally unhappy with the passive withdrawal of the Essenes and limited cooperation of the Pharisees. Jesus wants to engage Rome, to take on the unjust system that oppresses his people, and do so nonviolently. Jesus is a prophet speaking truth to power.

The sad thing for me, and it seems to be true for you as well, Mike, is that this legacy of prophetic nonviolence taught by Jesus has been largely abandoned (albeit with notable exceptions) since Constantine when the Church was co-opted by Roman imperialism. And today, for so many self-proclaimed Christians Jesus is the lord of hatred, fear, anti-intellectualism, anti-Semitism, and racism.

Of course, every religion has its extremists, and Christianity is not different than Judaism, Islam, and Hinduism in this regard. All of its sickens me, even as it breaks my heart. Religion is so easily co–opted by power. Wherever Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism become state religions, the prophetic call for justice fades and the clerics become puppets of politicians proclaiming holy what is clearly unholy.

So what are we to make of Jesus’ call to “resist not evil”? I cannot imagine he meant us to take this as a sign of passivity. “Resist not evil” cannot mean that we are to ignore the commandment to “not stand idle while our neighbor bleeds,” (Leviticus 19:16), and place our faith in some private afterlife salvation. Rather he is urging us to find a nonviolent way to resist an unjust system of oppression. This is what Gandhi and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. saw in the Sermon on the Mount. This is what we have to see ourselves. See, and then enact.

Mike: Response to Rami's 10/15 Post

2008-10-21T05:52:00.000-07:00

Never underestimate the human capacity and willingness to make religion the servant and prop of power. If I understand you, we agree on this point.

Love God and love your neighbor is the heart of the matter and the goal of the Christian life. Unfortunately, the human heart is deceptive. We can go round and round about why this so: origninal sin, cultural conditioning, genetics, and the like. I prefer simply to deal with the reality of the condition. Bound by our out of balance self-centeredness and self-protectiveness, we find it almost impossible to fully love (which is to trust) God. We, for the most part, also seem unable to love others in healthy ways or to extend such love beyond rather narrow groupings.

Jesus, I think, envisioned a revolution in human nature and behavior, one grounded in individual response to his message (and Christians would add, his person). In fact, we can read Christian history as an ongoing series of mini-revolutions, in which this vision of Jesus reemerges in counterpoint to institutional Christianity.

Jesus is too radical to be tamed by the church or the state, though both try mightily.

I await your promised second installment!

Rami: Response to Mike's 10/14 Post

2008-10-15T07:57:00.000-07:00

I think your analysis of our differences is true to a great degree. Judaism is a corporate enterprise. It does not recognize the separation of religion and state. The Torah, both Written and Oral, is a legal and ethical code for both individuals and the state, addressing all aspects of personal and corporate life.

The Gospels, on the other hand, are not concerned with the details of politics or economics. Jesus is talking about a revolution of the individual. He may have thought that to change the whole we must begin with the parts (I myself agree with this), or he may have believed the endtimes were upon him and that history and the vehicles of history such as the state were coming to an end so there was no need to speak to these entities. Or he may have felt that nothing could be or needed to be added to the Hebrew prophets and their centuries-long call for social, political, and religious revolution. Whatever his reasoning, one is hard pressed to run a country or an economy or even a world religion based on the principles of the Sermon on the Mount.

This was probably a nonissue until the Conversion of the Emperor Constantine and the eventual transformation of Roman Empire into the no less oppressive Holy Roman Empire. The more power the Catholic Church accrued the less Christian it became. Martin Luther's Reformation was a return to Jesus, but this simply resulted in a plethora of Jesuses each supporting the ideology of the state or group that worshipped him. When we go back to the original texts of the New Testament and just try and understand Jesus as his original listeners may have understood him, we are engaged in a very dangerous and revolutionary act, for what we find and hear is not the Jesus of this or that denomination or political party, shaped to sanctioned to their policies, but the real Jesus demanding a revolution of the heart.

When President Bush II said Jesus was the philosopher who influenced him the most, no one asked him where Jesus actually influences his policies. Bumper stickers asking “Who Would Jesus Bomb” show just how absurd it is to use Jesus to justify the brutality of the state. To put it bluntly: in a country driven by greed and addicted to oil, and so trapped in the politics of hate, fear, and xenophobia, Jesus is a very troubling role model. So we are offered a number of faux-Jesuses instead: the Jesus of the Prosperity Gospel, for example, who wants everyone to be rich (camels and needles be damned), and the Warrior Jesus where the Prince of Peace sanctions the ways of war, and the Jesus who hates homosexuals, Jews, blacks, and Democrats.

It seems to be that much of Christianity in the United States, like Islam in places like Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and Iran, and Judaism in Israel has been highjacked by those who use religion only to solidify their own power. This is why we need to go pack to the prophets of justice and compassion in each of these traditions and reclaim the true revelation they all share: to love God and to love our neighbor.

What I hope isn't getting lost in our conversation is just how radical the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount truly are.

Mike: Brief Response to Rami's 10/13 Post

2008-10-14T11:47:00.000-07:00

Some time back, I think, we briefly discussed how our respective traditions may incline us to approach interpreting texts differently. In a nutshell, my tradition tends to focus on the personal and a big picture, your tradition encourages a greater focus on the corporate and particulars. To my mind, our differences enrich our conversation.

Given your focus on how an "eye for an eye" applied only to the courts, I wonder if you may underestimate the importance of "popular" interpretation and application. I suspect any number of people absorbed the concept and went on to apply it to interpersonal relationships. From spouses, to parents, to clans, to the world of commerce, I suspect individuals justified various forms of revenge on the basis of the maxim. Turning to politics, I can not help but think the Zealots embraced the phrase as part of their justification for violent resistance to the Romans. Well...you get my point. Insofar as I determine, such sayings become not only law but folklore, and their influence as folklore may or may not bear much relationship to their intended meaning.

I have no doubt that you are correct: the court system of the day was corrupt, and Jesus certainly called on his followers to take a different approach to justice. At the same time, though, I think Jesus sought to address and reform personal habits of the mind, heart and hands.

Rami: Response to Mike's 10/13 Post

2008-10-14T08:19:00.001-07:00

There is so much to say about this amazing teaching. Let me divide my response into two parts: “An eye for an eye”, and “Do not resist an evildoer”, Jesus’ program for nonviolent resistance to injustice. I will post each separately and invite your comments as we go along.

The phrase “An eye for an eye” originally comes from Exodus 21:23-27, where a person who has taken the eye of another in a fight is required to forfeit his own eye as compensation. This is called reciprocal justice, lex talionis, and can be traced back to the Code of Hammurabi. By the time of Jesus lex talionis was understood in financial terms, with the guilty party paying a fine sufficient to cover damages, pain, medical expenses, incapacitation, and mental anguish.

Your reference to Deuteronomy 19:16-21 deals with a more direct form of lex talionis where conspirators testifying falsely in court are punished by having done to them what they planned to do to their intended victim. Deuteronomy also mentions the case of a woman coming to the aid of her husband in a fight by grabbing the genitals of her husband’s opponent. The Torah says “you shall cut off her hand; show no mercy” (Deuteronomy 25:11-12). This severe reaction to “hitting below the belt” most likely reflects Iron Age fears about women touching men’s genitalia, but by the time of Jesus this case was understood to refer to a woman who was going to kill her husband’s attacker rather than incapacitate him. Cutting off her hand was thought to be a lesser punishment, taking into account her passion to save her husband, when she might have been liable to capital punishment as a would-be murderer.

In each of these cases, however, we are talking about official justice carried out by the courts, and not acts of individual violence or revenge. Even the one exception to this rule found in Numbers involves the courts.

In Numbers 35:9-30 a person charged with manslaughter is obligated by the court to flee to a “city of refuge” to await trial. No one can touch him as long as he remains in the city. If he leaves the city, however, and is killed by a relative of the original victim, no penalty is accrued because the accused is now considered an escapee in violation of the court order to remain in the city of refuge. The idea behind this ruling is, in a world without prisons, to scare the accused into staying in the city of refuge until his trial. Notice that this only applies to manslaughter, killing without forethought or intent. Murder, intentional killing, is punishable by death, and no city of refuge applies. But in every case the court must establish guilt and carry out the sentence.

In other words, even in biblical times “an eye for an eye” was not about private revenge but court-based justice. Private revenge was already outlawed in Leviticus 19:18, “You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the children of your people; but you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18).

Given all of this it is challenging to figure out what Jesus intends with his attack on “an eye for an eye.” He cannot be referring to private revenge, because “an eye for an eye” doesn’t refer to private revenge but to court sanctioned punishment. So is he attacking the court system itself?

Maybe. Given the morally corrosive nature of Roman occupation, it is not hard to imagine that the justice system, like the High Priesthood, was in the pocket of Rome. Justice may simply be for sale, and the people to whom Jesus addresses his message are not those with the wherewithal to buy it.

I suggest that we are dealing with a call to abandon the corrupt courts, and find a new way to “do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God,” (Micah 6:8).

Mike: Matthew 5:38-42

2008-10-13T10:02:00.000-07:00

"You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you." (Matthew 5:38-42)

Jesus starts by alluding to Deuteronomy 19:21 and 21:24. In its earliest context, "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" reined in revenge. It forbade exacting vengeance beyond the hurt one suffered. The concept continues to influence us today, being the core principle upon which most western concepts of justice rest.

That being said, the saying also often lends a tone of legitimacy to those who want revenge. Left unchallenged or unmodified, "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" may (and does) fuel endless cycles of retaliation. It may restrict the scope of violence, but it cannot end violence.

Jesus calls for a kind of nonviolent resistance. His examples are drawn from his historical context. Striking someone on the right cheek with the back of one's right hand was a well-known way to insult another. It invited a similar response. Jesus called his followers to refuse to play the game. In similar fashion, an opponent might take advantage of his power or a corrupt justice system to take one's inner garment. If so, confound them by giving up one's outer cloak as well. A Roman soldier might legally compel one to carry his military equipment for a mile. Jesus instructed his followers to go an extra mile willingly. His focus in is on actions taken. Break the patterns of violence and resentment. Go beyond what the law or custom require. To put it mildly, his words probably did not set well with the majority of an occupied population.

The final injunction to give and lend to all who ask does not fit easily with the preceding verses. Had I been editing the materials that became Matthew's Gospel, I probably would have placed the verse in chapter 6, perhaps in the vicinity of verses 2 and 3. Still, I think it fair to say that Matthew links the saying to the previous ones because of their shared extremeness.

Following the way of Jesus is risky by normal standards. At best, your reputation may well be called into question. You'll certainly frustrate friends and fellow "tribe" members, when you refuse to respond to violence with violence. You may wind up broke (the nightmare of most western Christians)! Your time may be consumed. Certainly, you may suffer physical harm, and perhaps even death.

Jesus operates out of a vision: the cycle of violence and self-protectiveness can only be broken if we refuse to play by its rules. He clearly believes he speaks for God in this matter.

I think it best not to seek to explain away Jesus' radical position. His followers may choose other responses to violence, but I believe when we do so we should acknowledge we have departed from the strict way of Jesus.

Rami: Response to Mike's 10/3 Post

2008-10-03T13:30:00.000-07:00

Whenever talk of idolatry comes up I always go back to the work of Erich Fromm, especially To Have or To Be. Fromm speaks of two ways of living: having and being. The former is all about acquiring from a place of scarcity. The latter is about living with and in the abundance of the moment.

In the having mode God becomes an idol, "something that we ourselves make and project our own powers into, thus impoverishing ourselves. We then submit to our creation and by our submission we are in touch with ourselves in an alienated form. While I can have the idol because it is a thing, by my submission to it, it, simultaneously, has me." (Fromm)

Having and being had is the great sin. The God of the prophets cannot be had, and therefore cannot have you. The God of the prophets is the opposite of an idol. From the second of the Ten Commandments to Jesus (who I understand to be among the greatest of prophets), any god that can be imaged is not the eternal God."

The prophets’ challenge is to accept the freedom of uncertainly, insecurity, and not-knowing. Their way is the way of radical freedom, and they know that failure to be free can only result in enslavement to self and selfishness, and eventually exile from all that is meaningful and joyous in life.

A life of having is a life of being had. A life of being is a life of freedom. The “having life” is authoritarian and based on the false notion that you are other than the One Who Is. Alienated from God, you are forced to search for salvation, your sense of wholeness, by submitting yourself to externals. The “being life” is liberating and rooted in your unity with God as the One Who Is all things. Finding refuge in God, you are free from externals, you lack nothing, need little, and fear no one. I think Jesus and the Way of Jesus is a life of being rather than having.

Mike: Response to Rami's 10/1 Post

2008-10-03T08:10:00.000-07:00

Thanks for your overview of the "anti-oath" movement of Jesus' day. It's helpful. One of the guidelines I offer students of the New Testament goes like this: "Always remember, the words had to mean something to those who first heard them. Seek for that meaning. Find it, if possible. Build your interpretion and application of texts on such a base." Some listen, some don't!

Turning to some of the matters you raise, like you I sometimes wish we could find a better term than "kingdom" for use in contemporary America. I'm not sure "the vision of God" and "vision people" suffice. In Christian theology, for the most part, "kingdom people" are those who live (or try to live)in constant awareness of the rule of God. There is a living God at work, both generally in all creation and specifically with individuals. I suspect our different views on the nature of God are at work here.

Personally, I prefer to use "the way of Jesus." The phrase (for me) implies choosing a life direction centered in and guided by Jesus. All elements of life come into play: the mind, the emotions, self-care, caring for others, worship, daily "bread," work, play, rest, and the like. As you know well, "people of the way" probably was the earliest self-description Christians employed. I think they were onto to something important.

With regard to swearing an oath of fidelity to Caeser, I think you've identified an often overlooked yet highly probable possiblity. By the last decade of the first century, such an oath figured into persecution of Christians in Asia Minor. Insofar as I know, we do not have recorded incidents prior to that time. I am intrigued by your reference to "a general Pharisaic refusal to swear an oath of loyalty to Caesar" and would like to know more about the probable dating.

The larger issue, of course, is idolatry. When we place our ultimate trust in a system, a person, an ideology or any thing other than God, we divert from "the way." We may run off the road and into a ditch or wind up traveling another road, if we stay fixated on the diversion. My hunch is that all economic systems (to stay with the matter you suggest)hold the potential to divert us. The same is true of what we might call professional recreation, the entertainment industry, or even our personal avocations.

Living on "the way" requires one's attention, to put it gently.

Rami: Response to Mike's 9/29 Post

2008-10-01T07:09:00.000-07:00

I love this teaching of Jesus, and I too think it is central to the lives of “kingdom people” though, as an American I wish we could find a better term than “kingdom” to refer to those striving to live God’s vision of a just and compassionate world. How about "the vision of God" rather than the "kingdom of God," and “vision people” rather than "kingdom people"?

And you are right to cite Leviticus 19:2 and Numbers 30:2. We should, given the nature of this dialogue, also mention the third commandment against taking God’s name in vain (Exodus 20:7) and the ninth commandment against swearing false witness against one’s neighbor (Exodus 20:16). It is clear, I think, that biblical Judaism has no problem with swearing oaths if done so with integrity. But by the time of Jesus an anti-oath movement was well under way.

Here is a passage from the Book of Enoch written by a contemporary of Philo some decades before Matthew: “I promise you, my children, that I will not swear by a single oath; neither by heaven nor by earth, nor by anything else made by God. God said, ‘There is no swearing in me, nor injustice, but truth.’ If there is no truth in men, let them swear by a word—Yea, yea, or Nay, nay.” (49: 1-2)

Enoch seems to understand “yea, yea” and “nay, nay” as oaths, as do the rabbis in the Talmud (Shavuot 36a). Jesus’ brother James may be trying to explain Jesus’ teaching in light of the rabbinic notion that “yea yea” and “nay nay” are also oaths when he says, “But above all my brethren, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or with any oath. But let your “Yes” be “Yes,” and your “No” be “No” (James 5: 10-14). In this rendering of the teaching the double “yes” and “no” are not formulae as in the rabbis’ thinking but simply a way of saying, “Say what you mean, and do what you say.” If this is what Jesus meant then there is no conflict with the rabbis of his day.

Philo also argues against taking oaths, “That being who is the most beautiful, and the most beneficial to human life, and suitable to rational nature, swears not, because truth on every point is so innate within him that his bare word is accounted an oath,” (On the Decalogue 17, M. 2).

In Ecclesiasticus (the Wisdom of Ben Sirach) we find something similar, “Accustom not your mouth to swearing. Neither habituate yourself to using the name of the Holy One,” (23: 9-11). The Essenes, too, protested against the taking of oaths, claiming that their word was stronger than any oath, and arguing that swearing an oath was worse than perjury (Josephus, Jewish Wars, 2. 8, 6-7).

Given all of this we can see that Jesus’ position was not unique to him, and that he is simply taking sides in an ongoing Jewish debate on swearing oaths. But why this is so important? It could be that people were using the oaths and invoking the Name of God in support of lies, and Philo, Sirach, the Essenes, Jesus, and James are calling people to a higher level of integrity and honesty. This is important, but somewhat prosaic.

Looking for something more challenging, we should note that in Jesus’ day swearing an oath of fidelity to Caesar was a major concern. Josephus in his Antiquities (15:368, and 17:42) tells of two cases when the Jews refused to take oaths to Rome. The first was a combined effort of both Pharisaic schools and the Essenes who refused to swear a loyalty oath to Herod. The second was a general Pharisaic refusal to swear an oath of loyalty to Caesar. Rome responded with uncharacteristic restraint, fining the offenders rather than killing them.

Maybe Jesus is using the oath issue with Rome in mind, making his teaching yet another act of nonviolent resistance to Roman occupation. By refusing to take oaths one essentially denies the absolutist claims of the object of the oath, in this case Caesar. When Quakers refuse to pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States they are resisting the temptation of many patriots to equate God and country. Since to most Romans Caesar was God, not taking oaths was a way of affirming political atheism.

The question for me is, How does this translate into living the “vision of God” today? Certainly being honest and avoiding spin is part of it, but there must be something more. I wonder if our money, with the phrase “In God We Trust” printed on it is a kind of idol, and that participating in the American economic system is a betrayal of the vision of God? I really don’t know, but I would love to hear from you on this.

Mike: Matthew 5:33-37

2008-09-29T09:50:00.000-07:00

"Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, 'You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.' But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let you word be 'Yes, Yes' or 'No, No'; anything more than this comes from the evil one. (Matthew 5:33-37)

Jesus continues to illustrate kingdom life, turning to the matter of oaths.

Leviticus 19:2 and Numbers 30:2 prohibit swearing falsely, that is purporting to tell the truth while in fact doing otherwise, whether by outright lying or shading the truth. In the time of Jesus, it appears many folk believed oaths came in varying degrees of seriousness. For example, one might say, "Be it on my own head, if what I say is not true" or "As heaven is my witness, this is true." Such oaths were felt to be less binding than an oath sworn in the name of God.

Jesus says that kingdom people will not use such tactics for two reasons. First, anything we might call as witness to our oaths belongs to God. Invoking such things effectively involves God in our oath, and any attempt to act as if God is not involved is futile. Second, kingdom people should not need oaths. Living in the presence of God, they practice integrity. They do not need an oath to strengthen their own commitment to speak truth or keep their word.

A few commentators attempt to restrict the teaching's application to formal settings, such as the courtroom. Like most Christian commentators I think it applies to all arenas of life, but most especially to giving and keeping one's word and speaking truth in ways appropriate to a given setting.

Of course, I cannot help but think of the passage when I listen to partisans "spin" the words of a political candidate. For example, I watched the entire first debate between the presidential candidates. Each explained his particular approach to diplomatic conversations with leaders of rogue states. One used the term "precondition" to describe his own approach; the other chose the term "preparation." Try as I might, after listening to their explanations of their chosen terms, I could discern little difference in the mechanics of each candidates approach (tone and style, perhaps, are different matters).

Immediately after the close of the debate, political pundits of various persuasions began to "spin the discussion." Most attempted to persuade me (and other viewers) that there was a considerable difference between the two candidates on this matter. To put it gently, the commentators had to shade the truth in order to make the attempt. Most of them, no doubt, have Christian or Jewish affiliations. I was struck, yet again, by how hard it is to take control of our tongues and speak with integrity rather than to use words to serve a particular ideology or party affiliation.

Lest I seem to pick only on political operatives, Baptist preachers have a mixed record at best. For example, the New Testament clearly records two approaches to baptism: one follows personal confession of Jesus as Savior and Lord, the other is administered to entire "families" (perhaps including household servants)when the head of a household becomes a Christian. Baptist preachers, for the most part, "spin" their discussion of the matter to make it sound as if the New Testament presents only one option, namely the one we practice. Again, it's awfully hard not to shade the truth to serve one's own position or felt needs.

One more word: Some Christians use this passage to argue that we must have a clear position on all matters or that we can never change our minds. In other words, they believe it wrong to admit to grey areas, or that one does not know the right answer, or to change one's position in light of new evidence. If ever you say "yes" to a position, it ought to remain your position and so the argument goes. Nothing could be farther from the intention of Jesus. His call for radical truthfulness requires we admit when we do not know, recognize the reality of ambiguity, and declare that we have changed our minds when we have done so.

Rami: Response to Mike's 9/23 Post

2008-09-23T11:39:00.000-07:00

This is fascinating, Mike, even if only to the two of us.

Judaism, rooting itself in God’s command to “be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28) is decidedly pro-marriage.

The Shulchan Aruch, the basic code of Jewish law says, “Every person is obligated to marry in order to fulfill the duty of procreation, and whoever is not engaged in propagating the species is accounted as a murderer, diminishing the Divine Image and causing the presence of God to depart from Israel (Even ha-‘Ezer 1:1). And the Talmud tells us that “One who has no spouse is less than human,” (Yevamot 67a); and that “One who dwells without a spouse dwells without joy, without blessing, without good, and without happiness,” (Yevamot 62b). And while the primary purpose of marriage was to have and raise children, the rabbis urged that sexual activity within marriage has its own value and should continue beyond the childbearing years.

The Shulchan Aruch also tells us that the ancient rabbis ruled that High Priests and judges in capital crimes must be married (Shulchan Aruch, Orah Hayyim 53:9), though I can’t tell if they ruled this way in order to make the judges more or less compassionate toward the accused.

Perhaps the most interesting teaching on marriage is that only a married man could study the deeper mysteries of the Torah (women were not allowed to study this at all until modern times). The rationale here was that these mysteries use sexual imagery and one needed the grounding of a sexual partner to keep from being overwhelmed by the poetry of the teachings. We see this is the case of many medieval Catholic mystics as well (especially nuns) who speak of their love of Jesus in very sexual terms. Sex may be so central to humanity that we cannot imagine the Divine without invoke the sexual.

While celibacy is not limited to Christianity (Hinduism too honors celibacy), and while I am pleased to hear that the early church removed the stigma Judaism placed on eunuchs, celibacy is still one of the clearest differences between our two traditions.

On to the next teaching?

Mike: Response to Rami's 9/22 Post

2008-09-23T07:30:00.000-07:00

Thanks for the excellent overview of the Pharisaic debate and it's possible application to Matthew 19:3ff. Your description of the matter accords well with that of many modern Christian scholars.

That being said, let's spend a little time on the matters of marriage, celibacy and "eunuch's for the sake of the kingdom of heaven."

With regard to marriage, Jesus teaches that the dissolution of a marriage should never be taken lightly. I think we have to admit the School of Hillel's position potentially lent itself to such an abuse. Whatever else we might conclude, Jesus' position brings a dose of sobriety to the matter.

In the first century context, Jesus' teaching represents a large step forward for women, in that he appears to treat both male and female as equals even as he reins in supposed male perogatives.

What about the exception clause? Some manuscripts do not include it, though the consensus of textual scholars appears to be that it belongs in the original text. Let's assume this to be the case. The followers of Jesus began to wrestle with the teaching within the first generation of the movement. We see this is the response of the disciples. We also find Paul (1 Corinthians 7)suggesting a believing spouse is not to be held accountable if an unbelieving spouse seeks divorce. In the past century of so, many Christians have concluded that spouse or child abuse should be added to the list of exception clauses. In the West, at least, most Christians recognize that when all efforts at reconciliation have been exhausted, divorce may become the only realistic option available to one. Here, I think, we see the living church and the Spirit of God working to interpret the teachings of Jesus in settings quite different from the first century world.

To summarize, it seems to me that Jesus taught that marriage is meant to be an unbreakable union, that both partners bear responsibility for the success of the union, that it must not be lightly ended, and that divorce entails considerable consequences. At the same time, Jesus teachings on the grace of God, coupled with the writings of Paul and subsequent developments in Christian thinking, make it clear that forgiveness and a new beginning are always possible.

Now, with regard to "eunuchs" for the kingdom of heaven, a small segment with the early church (second century and following) took the matter quite literally. This has never been the interpretation of most Christians. Most ancient and modern commentators argue Jesus taught that a minority of people might be gifted to embrace celibacy, so that they might focus solely on knowing and serving God. To put it another way, the strongly pro-marriage Jesus made space in his world-view for kingdom-dedicated singles.

Western Christianity, in my opinion, misapplied the teaching when it made celibacy a requirement for the priesthood and often devalued the spiritual possibilities within marriage. On the other hand, Protestant Christianity, in reaction to medieval excesses, went too far in the other direction, in effect creating a religious culture that is often uncomfortable with celibant Christians.

Jesus took a different tack. He taught if we enter into marriage, we then are called to do all in our power to make it work well. In much the same manner, if we choose celibacy, we are do so in order to devote ourselves the kingdom of heaven. In either case, we should make decisions in light of our particular gifts.

One last thought: the account of Philip and the Eunuch (Acts 8:26ff)demonstrates that the primitive church attempted to remove the stigma attached to eunuchs. With his baptism, the eunuch was admitted to the church with all the responsiblities and rights of any other person. At the very least, Jesus' teaching opened the door into the Christian community for such persons.

OK, Rami. I've written a more length than is usual for me. Back to you.

Rami: Response to Mike's 9/16 Post

2008-09-21T10:27:00.000-07:00

This is a tough teaching. Is Jesus denying the option of divorce? It doesn’t sound like it. If Jesus wanted to outlaw divorce he could have simply said, “But I say to you, you shall not divorce.” He didn’t say this, but instead claims that a divorced woman is still bound to her husband so that she cannot remarry without committing adultery, which we know is a capital offense.

Two rival schools dominated rabbinic thought in Jesus’ time: the conservative school of Shammai and the more liberal school of Hillel. More often than not, Jesus follows the position of Hillel, but in this case he sides with Shammai who argues against divorce in all cases but that of sexual misconduct.

The Pharisaic debate focuses on Deuteronomy 24:1 where divorce is allowed if a man finds “something objectionable” regarding his wife. The question is, What is objectionable? For Hillel is could be almost anything, for Shammai it refers only to sexual misconduct.

Jesus is drawn into this debate in Matthew 19:3 where the Pharisees ask him, “Is it lawful to divorce one’s wife for any cause?” The key phrase is “for any cause.” The Pharisees of Hillel’s school say a man can divorce “for any cause,” while the Pharisees of Shammai’s school say only the one cause, sexual misconduct. The Pharisees are asking Jesus to identify with one school or the other. Jesus, again, sides with Shammai. The difference between these two teachings (Matthew 5 and 19) is that in the first he focuses on the woman, in the second on the man saying that any man who divorces his wife (except in the case of sexual misconduct) and marries another woman is himself an adulterer.

The two teachings together are consistent and fair: both the woman and the man become adulterers if either remarries after divorce. But Jesus goes even further in his second teaching arguing that, “What therefore God has joined together, let no one separate,” (Matthew 19:6). Here Jesus sounds like he is opposed to divorce under any circumstances, perhaps taking up the teaching of God in Malachi, “For I hate divorce, says the Lord” (Malachi 2:16). When the Pharisees ask him why then, if divorce is to be outlawed completely, God allows it in the case of sexual misconduct, Jesus says God is bowing to human hard-heartedness (Matthew 19:8).

Given that Jesus generally sides with the School of Hillel in matters of Jewish law, even his disciples are shocked by his pro-Shammai stringency. They say to him, “'If such is the case of man with his wife, it is better not to marry.' But he said to them, ‘Not everyone can accept this teaching, but only those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can,’” (Matthew 19:10-12).

Jesus is not anti-marriage, but he is uniquely pro-eunuch. In Leviticus 21:20 and Deuteronomy 23:1 we are told that eunuchs cannot marry, become priests, or legislators. My holding up the eunuch as his ideal, Jesus is calling his followers to opt out of the social, religious, and legal systems that define the Judaism of his day. Jesus is calling to an elect that can achieve a status above householder, priest, and rabbi. This is an incredibly radical and new idea that reaches far beyond the issue of mere celibacy that troubled the apostles.

While I am intrigued by this hint of a higher state, and why Jesus chooses the term eunuch to reflect it, I admit to not knowing what to make of this call to become a eunuch for the kingdom of heaven. I would love to hear your take on this, Mike.

Mike: Matthew 5:31-32

2008-09-16T13:50:00.000-07:00

"It was also said, 'Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce. But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.'" (Matthew 5:31-32) (NRSV)

Few New Testament passages provoke more conversation than Matthew 5:31-32. American Christians tend to treat it in one of several ways: make it a church law, apply it mostly to special groups (pastors, etc.), ignore it, restrict its application to the first century, interpret it in terms of leveling the playing field for women and men, or simply live uncomfortably with the knowledge that it exists within the canon. Individual Christians sometimes elevate the passage, treating it as a kind of supreme test of fellowship. More often than not, such individuals are dealing (poorly) with painful divorces within their families or friendship circles.

According to many a commentator, Jewish men in the first century could rather easily divorce their wives. Adultery, disobedience, and--at least in one often cited list--burning the meal were considered amble cause for divorce. Insofar as I know, women had little if any recourse. My best guess is that divorce proved a little harder in practice, not because of legal restraints but because of the forces of family, economics and compassion. Still, there seems little doubt that men held an enormous advantage with regard to power and that women were blamed for divorce.

Jesus seems to insist on at least two things.

First, he clearly take marriage and divorce seriously. Kingdom life does not trivialize marriage. Ending a marriage is not a light matter. Even if we allow for the "exception clause" (and it may well have been added by editors), Jesus clearly teaches that divorce should be rare.

Second, he places enormous responsibility on the husband. The husband forces his former wife into a situation where she may well be compelled by economic necessity, family pressures or other considerations to marry another male. In such a case, both men effectively force her to commit adultery. In the first century world, a divorced woman had few economic options. If her birth family refused or was unable to care for her, she might well be forced into prostitution or into another marriage in order to survive. All of the preceding can provoke endless discussion, but for me the key point is this: Jesus took the "get out of jail card" away from men.

In our time, roughly 50 percent of American Christians experience divorce. Most, in my experience, feel they had few options, yet they also tend to wrestle with considerable feelings of guilt. My personal position is that all the brokenness of human life (including divorce) is subject to the grace of God, through which we not only receive forgiveness but often find God fashioning an unexpected good thing. This does not eliminate personal responsibility and pain, but it does project the possibility to an end to what we might call an "exile experience" coupled with some kind of restoration/rebirth.

Rami: Response to Mike's 9/11 Post

2008-09-11T10:48:00.000-07:00

I hope we aren't presuming too much in this dialogue, though if and when we edit this for publication we should be careful to go back and add material when necessary.

Let's go into "lust" a bit more deeply. Certainly lust that excuses treating an other as an object, what Martin Buber calls an I-It relationship, is unhealthy and cannot be the foundation of any long term holy relationship (defining holy as a treating one another as I-Thou, a manifestation of God equal to oneself). But, having said that, should we give up on the word altogether?

Is there such a thing as "holy lust"? This might be a level of desire/attraction that surpasses mere passion. I have no idea, really. I'm just thinking out loud. Yet I seem to have a sense, perhaps a long lost memory, of holy lust—a desire so great that it overwhelms the ego's sense of separateness (its intrinsic sense of hellish isolation), and pushes us beyond both I-It and I-Thou into the radical nonduality of I-I where self and other are united in a way that reveals something all embracing, all consuming—something the mystics of all traditions might call God—as the root and branch of all reality.

The intense sexual imagery that Jewish and Christian mystics use to speak of their relationships with God comes to mind, though I doubt they would use "holy lust" to describe it.

I admit to a love of mixing words in odd ways to create controversy, but sometimes doing so also opens new windows and lets in some fresh thinking. Any thoughts on this? If so, I would love to hear them. If not, let's move on.

Mike: Response to Rami's 9/9 Post

2008-09-11T07:21:00.001-07:00

Thanks for the overview of the history the rabbinic materials. Both of us draw heavily and easily on the accumulated "wisdom" of our traditions. Occasionally, it's probably a good that we slow down long enough to share such information with our readers.

Turning back to the text and your remarks, I did not mean to suggest lust was the primary or only ingredient in male/female relationships prior to Jesus. In fact, I do not think is an ingredient in any healthy relationship. I do think, though, that Jesus' words remove lust (as previously defined) from the list of acceptable components of that relationship. This is important. Historically, there's a rather large "disconnect" between the teachings of either of our traditions and the popular assumptions of large numbers of adherents. This is certainly true with regard to the relationship between men and women. The teaching and example of Jesus functions as a counter to the assumptions of many a male in many a society across the ages.

We agree as to the church's poor record with regard to women. Insofar as the church taught or supported the inferiority of women, it departed (and departs) from the intention of Jesus. At the same time, the church, operating within the context of various western cultures, preserved the teachings of Jesus. Such teachings often furnished raw material for various forms of women's liberation. It's a strange thing to observe in history, the way in which the "good news" (as we call it) keeps breaking through cultural constraints.

With regard to hell as a kind of self-isolation, the notion is really quite old. While we disagree as to what happens to the individual at death, I think we agree on the power of the paradigm of hell as self-isolation. The paradigm, by the way, may be applied not only to individuals but to cultures as well. North Korea's political culture comes to mind as a possible example.

Rami: Response to Mike's 9/8 Post

2008-09-09T15:48:00.000-07:00

The issue of dating the early rabbinic material is complex. The literature was oral until the third century when Rabbi Judah haNasi, Rabbi the Prince or Head of the Rabbinic Court, wrote it down. This is the text we call the Mishnah. Some scholars say the material in the Mishnah stretches from 250 B.C.E. to 250 C.E.

After the writing of the Mishnah oral debate resumed for another three centuries until that material is written down as the Gemara (the “conclusion”). Together Mishnah and Gemara comprise the Talmud, the authoritative collection of rabbinic teaching.

Alongside this material are collections of midrash, investigative (I would say imaginative) tales, some legal others moral. These stories and teachings seem to date from before 200 B.C.E. to around 200 C.E. when the practice of writing them down begins. Midrash continues to be created even today.

Turning to our text, is Jesus extending the Jewish view of adultery? Probably not. He is conflating two biblical ideas of which we have already spoken in our examination of the Ten Commandments. We are prohibited from both adultery and coveting our neighbor’s wife. The former deals with the act, the latter deals with the heart or will. We also find a similar teaching in the Talmud, “Immoral thoughts are worse than immoral deeds,” (Yoma 29a); and in the midrash, “Do not think that he is an adulterer who, by his single act, has sinned; he also is an adulterer who lusts with his eyes,” (Pesikta Rabbati 124b).

It is true that adultery carried with it the death penalty, but, again, we have dealt with this previously. The rabbis required that the adulterous couple be interrupted mid-act and warned about the consequences of their actions, and that without two witnesses to the act no charge of adultery could be brought.

I am intrigued by your notion that Jesus calls for a new relationship between men and women. What is that relationship? Was the old relationship based on lust alone or even primarily? Was the old relationship to treat one another as objects, and the new one as equals? I would be hard pressed to see things that starkly.

Yet women were certainly second-class citizens in biblical and rabbinic Judaisms, and one could argue that inviting women to the table of Jesus changes all that. But then most of Jesus’ followers couldn’t accept his radical egalitarianism, as the misogynist material attributed (falsely) to St. Paul and the anti-Mary Magdalene material in several of the Gnostic Gospels attest. Once again Jesus’ message is lost on his followers and “his church.”

I certainly agree that the talk of eye plucking is hyperbole, and not to be taken literally. And I am interested in your notion of hell as self-isolation. I have heard this before: hell is being cut off from God. I would agree. For me God is Reality, all that was, is, and will be. Being in touch with God is the realization of God as Reality, and our inconnectedness with all life, so it is only logical that being out of touch of with God is being disconnected from all Reality, and that would be hell.

But, because I believe you need a self to be selfish, and that the self dies when the body dies, hell is only in this world. When we die the ego dies and as it does it realizes the truth that all is God (alles iz Gott, as my Hasidic teachers put it is Yiddish), and so we all “go to heaven,” just as every wave returns to the ocean from which and in which it lives, and moves, and has its being.

Mike: Matthew 5:27-30

2008-09-08T11:27:00.000-07:00

"You have heard that it was said,'You shall not commit adultery.' But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell." (Matthew 5:27-30) (NRSV)

(One aside: Rami, would it be possible for you provide dates for some of the rabbinic sources you cite from time to time. Insofar as I know, the earliest date from the second and third centuries.)

Jesus cites Exodus 20:14, prohibiting adultery. Most American Christians probably understand the commandment to forbid all sex outside of marriage. In its ancient setting, however, the commandment referred to sexual relations between a married man and the wife of another man. Many commentators argue that adultery, therefore, had to do with property laws, in that a wife was considered to be her husband's possession. Officially, the offense required the death penalty, though in practice the penalty was seldom if ever exacted, at least insofar as we can determine from written accounts.

Whereas the commandment deals with a specific action, Jesus moves to deal with the heart (as in the imagination, will, desire, etc.). In effect, Jesus calls for a redefined relationship between men and women, one in which lust per se is taken off the table. Normal desire is not the issue here. Lust is. Lust is the feeling that reduces others to objects, even as it atrophies our own capacity for empathy.

Two things need to be said about the illustrations of eye and hand. First, they are a kind of hyperbole, designed to drive home how seriously Jesus takes the matter. Second, they make a theological/existential point: in the end unbridaled lust reduces the one lusting to an utterly self-centered person, the kind of person who cannot experience the genuine, interactive presence of any other living being, even God. Such isolation is among the classic definitions of hell.

Rami: Response to Mike's 9/4 Post

2008-09-05T06:38:00.000-07:00

The Sermon on the Mount is Jesus’ articulation of how to live the Kingdom of God. As Jesus himself said, his teaching is not a repudiation of Torah but a highlighting of those aspects of Torah that he takes to be essential. This is certainly true in this section on anger and reconciliation which is classic Jewish teaching.

For example, according to the New Revised Standard Version of the New Testament we have extant Greek manuscripts of the Gospel of Matthew that add the phrase “without cause” to the first teaching about anger: “If you are angry with a brother or sister without cause, you will be liable to judgment.” While the NRSV relegates this information to a footnote, I think it is crucial since Jesus himself gets angry in Mark 3:5 at the Pharisees’ refusal to cure on the Sabbath, and again in Matthew 21:12 when he drives the money changers out of the Temple. Both instances are clearly in line with the righteous anger of the Hebrew Prophets.

As for Jesus’ condemnation of calling people “fools,” something Jesus himself does twice (Matthew 23:17; Luke 11:40), a fact that I find humanizing and endearing, here, again, Jesus is citing established Jewish teaching.

The Book of Proverbs says, “A fool always loses his temper, but the wise man holds back,” (Proverbs 29:11); and “A fool’s wrath is known at once,” (Proverbs 12:16). Proverbs also tells us that anger is the source of terrible strife (29:22; 30:33), and Psalm 37:8 urges us to “cease from anger” because it only causes harm. Jesus listeners, familiar with these and other Jewish teachings warning against anger, would not find Jesus’ teaching surprising at all. Even Jesus’ equating of anger with murder is part of Pharisaic teaching: “Whoever shames another in public is like one who sheds blood,” (Bava Metzia 58b).

When elevating reconciliation over sacrifice Jesus is drawing on Leviticus 6:1-7 where God says that if people have sinned against their neighbor they must first make that right and then offer a sacrifice to God. The Pharisees even had procedures for what to do with a sacrifice that has to be postponed.

Jesus’ final teaching regarding the two plaintiffs going to court over some dispute is also standard Pharisaic teaching. Jesus directs this comments to the guilty party since he urges this person to “pay the last penny.” In tractate Sanhedrin 95b of the Talmud the rabbis make the same assumption and urge an out of court settlement. It is likely that both they and Jesus are drawing on an even older teaching in the Book of Proverbs that, again speaking to the guilty, says “Do not go hastily to court,” (Proverbs 25:8).

The Hebrew Bible, the Pharisees, and Jesus are all saying the same thing: anger is dangerous, reconciliation with others takes precedent over prayer and sacrifice, and trying to avoid responsibility for one’s actions by going to court is a bad idea. The Way of Jesus is the Way of Torah pared, in good prophetic style, to the ethical core.

Mike: Matthew 5:21-26

2008-09-04T10:24:00.000-07:00

Having called for a righteousness which exceeds that of the Pharisees, Jesus provides six examples (Matthew 5:21-48). He takes a generally accepted version of a law or saying, then insists that his followers go farther and deal seriously with the sources and consequences of actions. The first of the six examples is Matthew 5:21-26:

“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny. (Matthew 5:21-26)

Like any teacher of his day, Jesus accepts the prohibition against the act of murder. He goes on, though, to meddle with the human heart. Anger, says Jesus, is the breeding ground for murder. It can easily lead one to lash out with words, such as "fool" or "idiot. Left to fester, anger can incite murder.

Note that Jesus does not forbid the feeling of anger. He knows very well that feelings simply happen. Instead, he teaches that his followers are to face the reality of the feeling, step away from whatever task is at hand (even the act of worship) and go seek reconciliation with one's brother (or sister, for that matter).

Jesus extends the same principle to a less personal situation: if someone is taking you to court, deal with your anger by seeking reconciliation with that person.

Insofar as I can tell, Jesus is calling for behavior consistent with the kingdom of heaven. One such indicator is a passion or commitment to reconciliation, to restored relationships. Interestingly enough, Jesus does not promise the other person (the brother, the adversary, etc) will respond in kind. His followers tend to chafe a bit at this point. For example, Peter will later ask how many times he must forgive someone who offends him. Jesus' classic answer is,"Seventy times seven," a proverbial saying which means "without limit."