Boyarin argues that when Jesus claimed to be a divine being as well as the anointed king, he was saying something other Jews would understand and find normal. From Boyarin's perspective, the difference between Jesus' followers and other Jews was not that he claimed to be the unique Son of God but that most Jews didn't think he was that guy.
not a biblical scholar. I'm a Jew, immersed in the Judaism of the 21st
century CE. So, the challenge for me reading this book was to try to
imagine myself in the 1st century, before most of what I know as Judaism
had taken firm shape.
Unlike some of the other reviewers, I had
no problem with the idea that Jesus kept kosher (the title of chapter
three). It even made sense to me that he might have been aghast at the
new ways of keeping kosher that the P'rushim (later called Pharisees by
people who couldn't read Hebrew) introduced. These forerunners of the
rabbinic movement had the radical idea that all Jews could live in a
state of ritual purity--not just the priests--and that ordinary
activities like cooking and eating could be made holy. On Boyarin's
reading, Jesus was a conservative, saying "Don't add new rules to what
the Torah already prescribes." I can't verify his reasons for saying
that, but it seems plausible to me, perhaps because to my mind it makes
the rabbis look as revolutionary as I think they were.
that there were a lot of different ways of being Jewish at the time, and
that Christianity was just one of them for centuries, also makes sense
with what history I know.
Given that, there may even
have been Jews who think what Boyarin thinks they thought: that the
Messiah, son of David, would also be a divine figure. Boyarin uses
ingenious readings of Jewish texts that are minor (Daniel) or totally
obscure (First Enoch, Fourth Ezra) today, to back up this point.
to his reading of these texts, "Son of Man" (ben adam, in the Hebrew)
actually means a figure shaped like a man who sits on a throne at the
right of God and then descends in the clouds to earth, to rule. "Son of
God" actually means the divinely chosen ruler, who is a son of God the
same way a bar mitzvah is literally a son of the commandment: he's under
God's authority. (That is my comparison, not Boyarin's.) At some point,
the two became identified.
Boyarin argues that these texts set
up the expectation of a divine Messiah, that Jesus said he was that
person, and that the Jews who rejected him understood what he was
saying--it wasn't an innovation to them--but denied his claim to be The
This is completely intriguing, but I am dubious, for several reasons.
1. Boyarin cherry-picks the verses that support his argument.
When he comes across verses that seem to contradict his thesis, he
writes them off as an editor trying to bring an unruly original text
back into line. You can do anything with a text that way!
3. That picture of an orthodox editor implies that the view that the Messiah was NOT a divine figure was always the dominant one.
The Christological idea that Boyarin says is "Jewish" may always have
been as strange to most Jews as "Jews for Jesus" are to most Jews today.
Boyarin gives no evidence that Daniel (which was eventually included in
the Jewish canon, or Tanach, but has no role in the liturgy) was widely
read at the time. (A stray part of me wonders if Boyarin wants "Daniel"
to be important because it's his first name.) Some of the other books
he cites are only extant in the literature of the Ethiopian Jews. It may
be just my ignorance, but I have no way of knowing whether those books
were circulating in first-century Palestine or not--and Boyarin doesn't
tell me. So is he making an argument that people in that time and place
would find recognizable?
Finally, let's say for the sake of
argument that Boyarin is right in every respect. I can understand why
that would be important to a historian. But why in the world would it be
important to the rest of us?
Judaism and Christianity may have
parted ways later and over different issues than we used to think--but
they did part. They have been separate religions for at least 1800 years
now. Since the Council of Nicaea in 325 CE, Jews have been persecuted
in the name of Christianity. (I hasten to say that there have also been
individual Christians who were great friends of Jews, even putting
themselves at risk to do so.)
Harking back to a time when
followers of Jesus were a recognized but minor Jewish sect does nothing
to bring us closer together. Understanding where we are and how we
differ today is a more productive path for Jews, Christians, and (I
would add) the other children of Abraham, the Muslims, too.
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Ten pages of The Misunderstood Jew, by Amy-Jill Levine, explain my childhood experience to me. Those are the pages where she shows, phrase by phrase, that the "Lord's Prayer" is made up of concepts that are entirely Jewish. In fact, she suggests that Christians would understand the prayer better if they knew more about its historical context. Follow this with me.
"Our father in heaven": Jews in the first century used the term Abba ("father") regularly, and even today Avinu (our father) is a common term in the Jewish prayerbook. Back then, it was also a political statement: a rejection of the Roman Caesar's claim to be the father of all his subjects.
"Hallowed be your name": every Jewish prayer service includes repetition of the Kaddish prayer, which begins "Magnified and sanctified be [God's] great name." And name in Hebrew is not just a word or a sound but the expression of God's active energy in our lives.
"Your kingdom come": this expresses the Jewish wish for the olam ha-ba, the "world to come," which is not an afterlife but the kingdom of God during the Messianic period. Again, this is a bold rejection of Rome's claim to be the ultimate sovereign.
"Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven": because the kingdom of God will create a world of justice and peace, here, where we live, and not exclusively in a spiritual realm.
"Give us this day our daily bread": Levine argues persuasively that this translation, in its redundancy, is missing the point. She would translate it "Give us tomorrow's bread today." Tomorrow's bread, for which we hunger, is precisely the Messianic age.
"And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors": This is a Jewish idea as well. We help those who are in economic distress, which would have been the only reason to take on debt in an agricultural economy. We believe that God will help us in our distress and keep us from paying all that we owe for our actions, whether they are sins ("trespasses") or just falling short of the mark.
Levine says, "The Greek phrase usually translate as 'Lead us not into temptation' is better rendered 'Do not bring us to the test.'" If the Roman empire would persecute you for practicing your religion and give you a good job if you would renounce your people and your traditions, that is a test that no one should have to face. Jesus knew that, and ultimately had to face that inhuman trial himself.
"But deliver us from evil": better, "the evil one." Satan in the Jewish tradition was the prosecuting angel when we were put to the test, always arguing that we had failed. For first-century Jews facing the trials of the Roman empire, it must have felt like an evil enemy pursuing them at every turn.
So, what I learn from Levine is that we could understand the "Lord's Prayer" this way:
Avinu malkeinu, our father in heaven, the way that you use your power in our lives is holy. Bring about the world to come, the Messianic age, so that what you have commanded us will be our actual everyday lives. Let us taste that world now. Don't hold our wrongdoings against us. Be merciful as you have told us to be merciful. Especially, don't let worldly powers put us in a position where we have to pay a terrible price for doing the right thing. Release us from their justice which is no justice. You are our only God and ruler.If Jesus were alive today and prayed this prayer, as a Jew I would respond, "Amen!"