Danutz has posted a wonderfully irreverent, subversive, thought-provoking, and even illuminating reflection on Palm Sunday on his blog. I think he may be in rather too much of a post-liberal hurry to get from Jesus’ politically motivated protest march (Borg and Crossan’s reading, if legitimate, is brilliant) to a Palm Sunday demonstration outside his local ‘exclusive country club’ - there’s a lot of narrative context that gets missed out along the way. But it’s a darn sight more exciting than making palm crosses. Please read it.
Re: Palm Sunday at the country club
I do wonder about the legitimacy, as you put it, of Borg and Crossan’s historical reconstruction. They haven’t, by the estimation of the full range (from the most critical to the most conservative) of biblical scholarship proved themselves the most ‘sober’ students of the so-called "historical Jesus". Nevertheless, even if the events are accurate, it is, I think, more reflective of the author than the mind of Jesus in so interpreting the triumphal entry as an act of political sarcasm. It would make Jesus ‘terribly hip’ though, wouldn’t it. However, it flies in the face of the interpretation offered by the NT documents themselves - namely, as prophetic fulfillment and harbinger of the coming kingdom (see, e.g., Mt.21:1-5; Jn.12:13-16).
Ironic it certainly is (to use ‘yoda grammar’); but ‘protest’ is hardly adequate! It is the authoritative announcement of the king’s entrance into Jerusalem, the great city of God’s anointed. But Danutz’s comments about the death of Christ (in construing the biblical doctrine of atonement as an ex post facto rationalization of Jesus’ tragic martyrdom) would indicate that he cares little for the NT’s own interpretation of these events.
Re: Palm Sunday at the country club
I haven’t read the book so I won’t attempt to defend (or critique) Borg and Crossan’s argument. It struck me, though, as both ‘poetically’ and theologically appropriate for precisely the reason that you give - that Jesus’ staged entry into Jerusalem was a ‘prophetic fulfillment and harbinger of the kingdom of God’. I’m not sure we have to stretch the word very far in order to describe this prophetic act as a ‘protest’ against the fact of occupation and oppression by a Gentile power as a concrete expression of Israel’s state of alienation from YHWH.
Or to put it more positively, isn’t the prophetic enactment of the coming of YHWH to Zion at the same time at least a challenge to the rulers of the city including Rome and its governor? The acclamation ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’ is from Psalm 118, which celebrates the salvation of the righteous psalmist from oppression by the nations, by those who hate him. The prophecy from Zechariah (‘behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey’) comes from an oracle of judgment against the nations (Zech. 9). The preceding verse reads: ‘Then I will encamp at my house as a guard, so that none shall march to and fro; no oppressor shall again march over them, for now I see with my own eyes’ (Zech. 9:8). The following verse speaks of God cutting off the chariot from Ephraim and the war horse from Jerusalem. There is ample reason here to ask questions about the political impact of the entry into Jerusalem. Jesus is surely saying that God will overthrow the enemy and oppressor of his people.
My problem with Danutz’s reading has to do with whether it is correct to regard this as simply and directly paradigmatic for the church’s response to empire and oppression at all times and under all circumstances. The danger in the (post-) liberal argument is that it by-passes the calling of the church to be, in the first place, a people of God. If the entry into Jerusalem constitutes a prophetic challenge to the rule of other powers over Israel, the first question it raises is: What does it mean for us to have God as king? Only once we have understood that proposition can we begin to consider in what ways and to what end the church should confront injustice today.
Re: Palm Sunday at the country club
When Jesus entered Jerusalem as YHWH returning to his temple (not simply as a prophet warning of YHWH’s coming: see the many previous posts on this issue), he enters by a point at which the crowds would have expected him to turn right, into the Antonia fortress which was built, defiantly, against the temple area as a symbol of Rome’s domination. As a liberator from Roman tyranny, this would have been the next action. Instead, he turns left - into the temple area, and proceeds to enact judgement on the temple and its occupants - the people, supposedly, suffering oppression by Rome. A little knowledge of local geography is very helpful here.
Danutz’s blog is a lot of fun, but is more to do with his personal agenda than any kind of agenda which can be understood from the documents which described the Palm Sunday events.
Re: Palm Sunday at the country club
Even under your interpretation, Peter, the kingdom comes with Jesus’ death and resurrection and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, so there is still a prophetic and anticipatory aspect to the entry into Jerusalem. And if - as you say rightly - he proceeds to ‘enact judgment on the temple and its occupants’, then that is again a prophetic action that has reference to a future event, namely the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple in AD 70. We can adopt a high christology here and say that Jesus is God entering Jerusalem, but it surely still points forward to dramatic events and transformations that are yet to take place, including the removal of Caesar as king over Israel. And what about Jesus’ previous visits to Jerusalem - were they also YHWH returning to Zion? What makes this visit so significant is the prophetic form of the action, to understand which we have to read the Old Testament texts.
The fact that he goes to the temple rather than to the Antonia fortress does not contradict the argument that there is a political dimension to this whole event. It simply brings into view the fuller prophetic and thoroughly biblical narrative of judgment on the temple followed by judgment on the enemy of the people of God. It is not an accident that the Old Testament allusions that accompany the entry have in view God’s victory over foreign powers on behalf of oppressed Israel. They are not texts simply about internal matters: ‘I will stir up your sons, O Zion, against your sons, O Greece, and wield you like a warrior’s sword’ (Zech. 9:13). But Jesus’ point is that it is precisely by means of a renewal of the relationship to YHWH (symbolized by the temple and by the new temple in his body) that Israel would be ‘saved from our enemies, and from the hand of all who hate us’ (Lk. 1:71). You have to keep in mind that foreign hostility towards Israel is invariably interpreted both as judgment on the wicked and as oppression of the righteous.
I don’t think Danutz is entirely right, but he’s certainly not entirely wrong, and I think it rather unfair to attribute his reading of the entry into Jerusalem to a ‘personal agenda’.
Re: Palm Sunday at the country club
Yes OK Andrew. Anyway, I like the idea of tanks parked on people’s lawns. The idea is worth having for its own sake. My application for point-scorers anonymous is pending.
Or to put it more
Yes, as Jesus’ kingship was a challenge to Pontius Pilate (and so to Caesar’s ‘lordship’), and yet He wasn’t (at least in their estimation). For His kingdom was of an entirely different order (see Jn.18:35-37) - not one that conquered the Empire through the sword, but one that mysterously succumbed to the cruel cross of Roman execution (and that according to the sovereign hand of God Almighty, Jn.19:11; Ac.2:23)! He came not to be served (as a king necessarily would), but to serve and give his life as a ransom. The Christ must first endure humiliation, and then enter into His glory (cf. Lk.24:26).
His entry into Jerusalem then is a true fulfillment of the prophetic scriptures, both as a presently ironic ‘royal entrance’ (as the Messiah in his ‘exodus’ to Jerusalem, where he would suffer rejection by his own people and be crucified by the Gentiles, see Mt.10:32-34), and proleptic of the consummation (when Yahweh will come to Zion in the Son of Man’s glorious return).
To be sure, this is bound-up with the pregnant messianic-symbolic action of his entry into Jerusalem. But it is hardly a zealot’s call to arms, or even a declaration of Israel’s poliitical liberation (and what an ironic declaration that would have been in light of Jesus’ later prophetic announcement of their imminent destruction under the oppressor’s foot!). It is eschatological, and such eschatology must be understood according to Jesus’ teachings about the coming kingdom (e.g., the parables of Mt.13 in particular). The kingdom does not come in the manner of your expectation (e.g., the imminent overthrow of Roman occupation), but is already here in the Person of Jesus of Nazareth, and will be consummated at the end of the age (when Rome, or “the Great Babylon” will be destroyed under the unhewn stone of God’s kingdom). Of course, as the reign of Christ is inaugurated in His resurrection and ascension, His kingship/lordship is a challenge to Caesar’s claims to sovereignty and loyalty. Thus the Christian church was destined to clash with the emperor-cult. But this clash was not politically motivated (as in an act of civil disobedience in response to the suppression of human rights, for example), but is fundamentally religious (who will you worship?), which in turn had political implications (to whom are you ultimately loyal as a subject in the ‘polis’ of Rome?).
But this reduction of Jesus’ redemptive ministry to a political campaign (e.g., the cross as the ultimate example of non-violent resistence to Roman occupation as in some pacifistic readings) quite misses the point. Perhaps though I am missing the point in my criticism here, moving well beyond Danutz’s points. I’ll shut up.
missing the point...
Well I obviously think you are missing the point just as you think I’m missing it. That is the “point” of debate.
The roots of our different opinions can be traced to our different views on what the kingdom of God really is. I don’t (as you do) think that the kingdom which Jesus referred to is something that God will bring about via supernatural involvement in either an afterlife or the future of this life. I see the kingdom of God as a dream. It only exists in the minds of those that have accepted the challenge to make it. It is “within us”. It is something that Jesus envisions and speaks about in a similar manner as when MLK jr. began his famous speech “I have a dream…”. It is not something that God supernaturally imposes, but it is something that Jesus challenges us live out.
The different views on this are absolutely critical to Christianity. If we continue to preach a theology where the dream of Jesus is something we wait for to be created supernaturally rather than something we create by living it now, then it will never happen. Politics is the main key to the dream. Without changing the politics of the world the dream can never be fully materialized. Politics is the moving of internal private ideals toward material social policies. Ideals (faith) alone will not save us.
Also, the kingdom of God is not something new to Christianity. It is the same thing that the creators of the original Jewish community had in mind when they created the Torah. The Torah is a guide to a new type of community (the kingdom of God) created through the politics of loving God and neighbor (see the 10 commandments). It was a radical political departure from the politics of Egypt. The message of the Torah was simply that there will be no more Pharaoh in our new community just as the NT message is there will be no more Emperors in our new community. We will have a harmonious, prosperous, and justly shared community and the workers will rest every 7th day. From start to finish, the Bible says to Pharaoh “NO MORE DAMN BRICKS 24x7x365!” to Caesar “NO MORE OPPRESSIVE TAXES!” to the Pharisees “NO MORE OPPRESSIVE LAWS!” How could you say this isn’t political?
All major religions have this same dream. The dream is that in the end the Christ metaphor/figure (God, Allah, Holy Spirit, compassion, love, message of Jesus, enlightenment, nirvana) will take hold of the masses, transform our lives, communities, and governments, and then it will reign in power and justice. Faith in the Bible means accepting that dream as your own dream.
root issues...
Danutz, don’t you think that your comments here point to an even deeper issue, namely, the identity of the primary actor in faith? What I mean is, judging from your statements here, it seems that you think we (humanity) are the primary actor(s) in the events of faith. The disagreement over what constitutes the Kingdom of God seems to be contingent upon who is ultimately in control and responsible. To say that the Kingdom “only exists in the minds of those that have accepted the challenge to make it” assumes humanity’s ability to bring about God’s purposes primarily through our own power. Are you including God in that statement?
I would argue that the message of Christianity as expressed throughout Scripture and the historical witness point to the logical truth that God is the primary actor. To be sure, the Kingdom of God is “within us”, but it is still God’s Kingdom. To make God’s activity subordinate to human activity seems to go against the Christian witness as understood by believers all across the spectrum of faith. Of course, there is a definite role for us in the process of building the Kingdom, and God invites us to step into the activity and play our part. That may involve changing politics, or it may not.
But the root question, it seems to me, is: Can we bring about the Kingdom through our power, or is it something only God can ultimately fulfill? To use a trite phrase — can we save ourselves, or do we need God to save us? Obviously, how we answer this question points to our foundational philosophy of life and faith. Either we believe that humanity is able to save itself, or we believe that we need God to help us because we are incapable of transformation in our own strength.
In my view, the latter is essential for the Christian faith, otherwise the faith ceases to have any transformative power. It becomes nothing more than another tool by which the goals of humanity are realized. It is Humanism redefined using Christian terms. And any sort of faith that is foundationally Humanistic seems to me destined for failure.
Just curious what your thoughts are on this…
Geoff
Danutz
Geoff, I think the way you’ve formulated your question may rest on some assumptions about how to speak about God that Danutz doesn’t share… but then perhaps I shouldn’t be speaking for him.
This is a puzzle that I’ve been struggling with as of late. As Christians, we believe that God’s Spirit is at work in all the world, doing as much as she can (I’m intentionally being ‘controversial’ with the feminine pronoun, though I’m told this is fairly biblical).
However, in the same way that the apostle Paul thinks that the spirit of prophecy is subject to the prophet, so also we believe that God’s Spirit is non-coercive. In that sense, at least on a phenomenological level, it may be impossible to tell if it’s ‘God’ saving us, or a powerful socio-cultural symbolic concept we’ve recently acquired that’s saving us. This is because when God saves (from addiction, from pride, from lust, etc.), the ‘salvation experience’ is subjective.
I’m reminded of the news reports that claim to explain away the experiences of enlightenment reported by Buddhists and Hindus by simply pointing out what kind of brain activity is going on inside their heads. But of course saying ‘see, this part of the brain is inactivated during meditation’ doesn’t necessarily imply the conclusion that is usually drawn (‘therefore it is only a psychological phenomenon and doesn’t point to any ‘spiritual’ reality’).
Everything that happens to us (enlightenment, salvation, etc.) happens TO US. The subjectivity of the experience is inescapable. Your question Geoff, then, points to an epistemological mystery.
If we choose to answer you by saying, ‘the Kingdom will only come by God’s power, and not by our own efforts’—though we may believe that, we also believe that the Kingdom comes through the Kingdom-people. And so at least for the time being, there’s no way to tell the difference. At best, you can hope for some sort of eschatological vindication (Jesus-style!) where it is clear that humans aren’t responsible for the coming of the Kingdom. My guess though, is that even if Jesus comes again, it won’t be in our lifetimes, so both you and Danutz could appear to be right.
Any thoughts?
Cheers,
-Daniel-
root issues..
Geoff,
You correctly identified one of the root differences in our approaches. You are right that I think we are the primary actors in this story. For whatever reason, the creator of the universe has set it up that way. I’m not saying that I know if he “can’t” or just “doesn’t” manipulate every detail of our lives, but that is what we are stuck with. That is why we need religion, a savior or guiding light, a message, a “people of God”, etc.
If a supernatural all powerful God were going to solve it all in the end without us doing anything, then our actions would have no purpose other than to sit around and wait or maybe earn our places in an afterlife. If that was the case then life itself is pointless. If you are a Calvinist, then you might not even think you have a choice in those actions or the results. As you can gather from my posts and comments, I disagree with that notion. That type of theology is the primary reason that Christianity became a “sit around and wait” religion and lost its sense of purpose to heal the world.
I’m sure we also have a different understanding of the word “faith”. I don’t see faith as “belief” or “knowing something to be true”. For me faith is deciding that some set of ideals can work and deciding to adopt or accept those ideals as my own plan for how to live. I agree with you that faith has transformative power but for me it is belief in the plan of action not belief in a particular theology or image of God that leads to my faith. I don’t think faith has anything to do with certainty about the existence or exact nature of God. If a particular belief system helps you achieve faith then that is great, but without faith we would never actual get busy living out our ideals (for Christians those ideals are the message of Jesus about a transformed life and community).
If I said I believe in George Bush (I’m laughing out loud while I type that crap!!!) then it would have nothing to do with what I think about his physical makeup and everything to do with what I think of his vision and ideals. When I say I “believe in Jesus” I mean that I believe his dream/vision is one that can work. When I say I “have faith in Jesus” I mean that I accept his vision as my own and will work toward that vision. I don’t mean that I believe he existed or that was a particular “divine being”. That doesn’t matter. I guess in reality it doesn’t even matter if he did exist (although I feel pretty confident he did). The dream would be the same even if it were uttered by a fictional character (not that I think he was).
If we don’t have a stake in making the dream come true then why would Jesus make disciples and send people out to “do the stuff”? It just wouldn’t make sense. Basically what you are suggesting is a sort of despair that the world is lost and can’t be healed. Despair is the tool of the empire. Despair makes us apathetic and we give up on this life and feel that the only justice that could possibly come is in another life via supernatural means. A theology of despair (original sin, atonement, etc) is a result of the empire commandeering Jesus’ message and morphing it into something that will result in a less revolutionary and political faith. If the empire (economic/political/religious powers) had left Jesus message alone, then Christianity would have continued being a politically subversive community and we would never have been pacified and molded into good consumers and citizens of the empire.
I think you are clinging to the very thing that the empire has injected into our belief system to keep us from acting on our faith. It is similar to the DNA twist that they put into the dinosaurs in the movie Jurassic Park that would keep them docile and alive with regular injections. Let’s hope that Christians can eventually evolve and break out of the cages. At a minimum we should stop accepting the weekly injections. The empire has told us that without the injections we will surely die. What should we do? I’ve made my decision.
Re: Palm Sunday at the country club
I was being intentionally controversial and I think Andrew realized that even if others didn’t. I wasn’t writing a book or trying to highlight every possible narrative point. I was just trying to highlight the fact that we wash over Jesus’ bent for protest. As with any good protest, you need to make extreme statements to stir up discussion. Had I written that post for this site I would have fleshed out more of the theological and narrative issues and addressed it much differently. Borg and Crossan have done that in their book so pick up a copy if you are interested.
The attitude of protest is clearly present once we grasp the historical elements surrounding his march into the city and balance that against his teachings and add the fact that whatever he did it certainly pissed off both the religious and Political leaders and gained him much favor with the crowds.
FYI… i’ll be posting something for each day in Holy week. But if you can’t handle a little controversy please stay away because that site is for a different audience. My goal is to share a completely different view of the week without regard for the traditional view which I also still appreciate. Already the idea of Holy Week has become more exciting for me. In the past we skip right over to Friday and Sunday and the rest of the week gets lost. I think that is symbolic with how we as Christians foucs on those 2 days in Jesus’ life and skip over the rest of his message.
Hi Danutz and Daniel --
Hi Danutz and Daniel —
Thanks to both of you for your replies. To be clear, I would never say that human beings have no role in the process; quite the contrary! I am merely trying to figure out some of the assumptions underlying different perspectives seen on this message board, and how to properly respond.
Daniel, you are absolutely right, salvation and faith are subjective and mysterious. That is why I keep trying to understand the perspectives offered by Danutz and others. I want to find the value (and I do believe there is value) in those perspectives… sometimes I just can’t understand the logic behind them. Which probably says more about me than anyone else. :-)
I have a feeling I’m straying from the original post here, but it seems to me that what we’re discussing is the fundamental issue of faith. That is, why do I/we believe in God? What is it that we are hoping/expecting/experiencing God to be about? This is probably why my posts often seem somewhat repetitive and simplistic, because I think we have to keep coming back to the basics, because those fundamental assumptions affect everything else.
Danutz, if you say that we are the primary actors in the story, that seems to me to place God below humanity in the order of things. Clearly, as one who believes in an Almighty God, this idea bothers me. On the other hand, I recognize, as you do, that we have a great role to play in the story. For me, the question becomes, “how do I play my part and do what I must do without usurping my role and trying to take on responsibilities that ultimately belong to God?”
There is no doubt that some aspects of the Christian faith have tended, throughout history, toward a fatalistic view of this world that serves harm. But isn’t there an unhealthy extreme on the other side as well? Does it really benefit us if our faith is entirely pragmatic and “this world”-centered? If faith is ultimately deciding that a “plan of action” will work, what good does that do us in the long run? It may help for a while, but does it really change anything fundamentally?
I see no evidence that any set of ideals, no matter how beneficial, will ultimately be acheived through human effort. All human endeavors will eventually fail. I’m not trying to be a pessimist, this is simply what history suggests, and quite strongly. Lasting change cannot be brought about simply through human activity.
I am in no way suggesting that we should neglect our ideals or give up on the dream of a better world. But who are we finally trusting in to bring about this better world: God, or ourselves? My worry is that a faith which is centered upon the “dream” of Jesus’ message, rather that in Jesus Himself, will finally lead to the same despair that plagues the determinists. It will simply come from a different direction. Both the “extreme Calvinist” and the “extreme pragmatist” despair of God’s promised re-creation of all things. The former concludes that this world isn’t really worth saving, the latter concludes that God really can’t do it.
I am trying to steer clear of either extreme, which is why I keep coming back to God as the primary actor. Faith in God as a metaphysical necessity keeps me from drifting into pragmatic despair. But faith that God has set into motion a plan that directly and intimately involves me keeps me from falling into deterministic despair. Both seem necessary to keep my faith balanced and me walking forward on the path. Of course, I find myself in the ditch far more often than I remain on the straight and narrow. :-)
palm sunday...
This is really a separate debate more in tune with the subject of the “sovereignty of God” doctrine rather than an Easter week analysis but I’ll play along all the same and see if I can weave that back into the original context of the post.
In terms of God or us being the primary actor in life, I think it has to be us. If God is the primary source of all actions then he would be the one responsible for wars, crimes, etc. No matter how you view God in terms of ontology, you have to see that for whatever reason we are the primary actors here on earth. Either God “can’t” or “won’t” micro-manage us, but it is easy to see that for whatever reason he doesn’t.
As for Holy week, it seems to me that Jesus’ protests (both the protests against Rome and the protest against the temple’s partnership with Rome and abandonment of the Jewish poor) are calls to earthly action not warnings or prognostications about what God is going to do in the future supernatural realm. The most obvious proof of this is the reactions of those who opposed Jesus’ message. The temple system objected, but if Jesus had only been speaking about the “otherworldly” justice of God then that wouldn’t really be news to them. The idea of a coming justice for Israel was nothing new. They all believed that to be the case. He would not have posed a threat to the temple. If he had been attempting to start a new religion then these people were already living in a very pluralistic environment and another one of the many cults or religions about some different afterlife scenario would not have been unusual or threatening either. They objected only after he shut down the business ventures of the temple for a day by stopping the flow of money (his protest in the temple). Jesus was calling for real action by real people in response to the oppression by both the temple and the Roman Empire. He wanted a change of action not just by peasants, but he wanted the actions of the leaders to change. I suspect that this is why wanted him dead. His quote of the OT prophetic critique of the temple “…den of robbers…” was a reference to the fact that the Temple was once again ignoring the poor. Read Jeremiah chapter 7. Jesus would have understood exactly what Jeremiah was protesting against and his protest was the same which is why he quoted him. It is neglect for the poor which resulted from their cooperation with the Roman Empire that Jesus is protesting.
300 years later the leaders of the Roman Empire (Constantine and other Christian leaders in Rome) wanted to accept Christianity so they had to shape the understanding of Jesus into a religion of belief rather than action so that the people remained numb to the political and social oppression of the Empire’s leaders. They needed to make it become more about afterlife and mythological atonement for sin rather than a revolution against Imperial domination and oppression. How else could the Roman Empire embrace someone they had killed for protesting their own imperialistic ways? This “watering-down” and pacifying of his message was necessary for it to become accepted within the Empire. Of course, we should be glad this happened because without it being “watered-down” and accepted by the Empire, the message might not have spread and endured.
Now we have the luxury and responsibility to unwrap the message from the old protective layer of mythology. The danger is that outside forces like conservative ideals of consumerism and fundamentalism will once again wrap its own layer of “protection” around the message and reduce it to meaningless hope for afterlife and codes of conduct just as they did before. It is a different Empire but the same result.