Judas versus Jesus: Salvation’s Confrontation with Sin

The judgment in the “trial” of Jesus is not a pronouncement by Pilate concerning Jesus (Pilate refuses to pronounce judgment and refuses to actually have a formal trial)[1] but Jesus pronouncement that “he who delivered Me to you has the greater sin” (Jn 19:11, NASB). The significance of this “he” and of his sin of “delivering” Jesus is that it encompasses the ultimate sin or the culminating point of sin.  Pilate, Rome (the world of Gentiles), Judas, the Jewish priests, the Jews, and Satan are all involved in the “delivering up of Jesus unto death.”  John equates this delivering up with darkness, with Satan entering into Judas, with the uncleanness that clings to the Apostles in the form of the betrayer. Jesus is delivered over to the Gentiles or Romans through the Jews by means of an Apostle, such that every class of human is involved in this deliverance. Darkness, sin, death, uncleanness, and evil, are encompassed in the movement which delivers Jesus unto death. Judas starts the chain reaction of “delivering” or “handing over” (παραδίδωμι) in which he “hands over” Jesus to the Jews (Mark 14: 10), who in their turn “bound Him, and led Him away and handed him over to Pilate the governor” (Math. 27:2). The Jews picture their handing him over as a self-evident sign of guilt: “If this Man were not an evildoer, we would not have handed him over to you” (John 18: 30; cf. also Mark 15: 1 and Matthew 27: 2). At the end of the trial Pilate will hand Jesus over to the Jews to be crucified. Judas though is the “betrayer” (ho paradidous) or the one whose entire identity is marked by this “handing over” (Mark 3: 19, “Judas Iscariot, who handed him over (hos kai paredōken auton),” and in Matthew 10: 14, “Judas Iscariot, the one who handed him over (ho kai paradous auton).” Once Jesus is delivered into “the hands of men,” into the hands of the high priests, into the hands of the Gentiles, the momentum toward the crucifixion is a foregone conclusion.

Isn’t the decision of Pilate, the role of Herod and the High Priests, the work of Rome, the important element of the handing over? The death drive which would consume Jesus would seem to concentrate itself at the end of the process.  Something as insignificant as a kiss, as inconsequential as 30 pieces of silver, as trifling as a little greed, sets the more important forces of Israel and Rome into motion. But this kiss, as Karl Bath says, “attests and seals again the fellowship of the perpetrator with Jesus.”[2] That is the darkness to be penetrated, the orientation toward death which needs overcoming, the evil to be defeated, cuts through the Apostles and is represented by Judas.  Judas is not only of Judah and Israel but is of Jesus and the Apostles and it precisely this proximity to Jesus that serves to identify the gravest depth of sin: “he who delivered Me to you has the greater sin.”

Judas is participating in the last supper with the other Apostles when Jesus makes it clear that the worst form of guilt is that of the betrayer: “But behold, the hand of the one betraying Me is with Mine on the table. For indeed, the Son of Man is going as it has been determined; but woe to that man by whom He is betrayed!”[3]It would have been good for that man if he had not been born.”[4] It is odd that this great sinner, this one who sums up the worst sort of sin as the betrayer, is so much a part of the apostolic band that they cannot distinguish him. When Jesus notes that the betrayer is among those with whom he is breaking bread, the Apostles “began looking at one another, at a loss to know of which one He was speaking.”[5] Mathew pictures each of the disciples as vocally questioning if they personally will betray him: “Being deeply grieved, they each one began to say to Him, ‘Surely not I, Lord?’”[6] They seem to each see within themselves the possibility which resides in Judas.

It is in conjunction with this disclosure that Jesus washes the disciple’s feet. When Peter protests, “Jesus answered him, ‘If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.’”[7] When Peter insists upon a complete bath, Jesus explains, “He who has bathed needs only to wash his feet, but is completely clean; and you are clean, but not all of you.[8] The wholly clean still need to have their feet washed and what they are washed of, the uncleanness which still resides among them, is represented by Judas. Jesus cleanses their feet – they are wholly clean – yet they will have to continue in this service which Jesus renders to remain clean. That is, this service and what it represents directly addresses the Judas’ orientation of which they all need cleansing. The uncleanness of Judas, as it exists among all the Apostles, is particularly represented in the story by Peter.

Peter’s denial of Christ indicates a failure, not only morally like that of Judas, but a similar failure of comprehension.  All of the apostles are included in the foot-washing and Peter’s and Judas’ failure both unfold from this point in the story. The specific element which both Peter and Judas fail to recognize, maybe from different ends of the same spectrum, is that Jesus intends the foot-washing to symbolize or foreshadow his self-giving in death. The threat of death has been hanging over the disciples from the time they all went up to Bethany and Jesus raised Lazarus. Death is on all of their minds, following the fatalistic lead of Thomas, who determined for all of them to “go, so that we may die with Him.”[9]  He has already explained that the foot-washing is a model of humble service, but this is something Jesus explains to the disciples immediately (13:12-17). The foot washing is incomprehensible to them because they have yet to link sacrificial service to death. It must be death as part of this self-giving to which Jesus refers when he tells Peter he will only comprehend the action later (13:7). Peter would block Jesus from going up to Jerusalem to die and Judas would bargain his way out of being counted among those who would die. They are consistently uncomprehending or unwilling to grasp what it might mean for Jesus, let alone themselves, to take up the cross.

After the foot-washing, Peter seems eager to press the point and to show that he has made the connection: “Lord, why can I not follow You right now? I will lay down my life for You.”[10] We know from Peter’s actions at the arrest of Jesus that he would lay down his life in battle – taking as many ears as he can in the process. He would die the death of any good zealot – perhaps in the sort of final battle Judas and all the apostles imagine for Jesus. Peter’s words parallel those Jesus has used earlier, not once but twice, when describing his own role as the good shepherd (“the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep” – Jn 10:11,15). Jesus answers Peter by repeating Peter’s words as a question: “Will you lay down your life for Me?” (13:38). Peter’s claim reflects a reversal of the shepherd-sheep relationship Jesus has outlined earlier in the Gospel. Peter will fall into the hired hand category despite his best efforts: “He who is a hired hand . . . sees the wolf coming, and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.”[11] The note of irony in Jesus’ voice must have been obvious as he repeats Peter’s words: “Will you lay down your life for Me?”

Judas, meanwhile, is fulfilling the treachery depicted in Zechariah 11, in which the sheep of Israel are pictured as standing in solidarity against the Good Shepherd.  The Good Shepherd, God himself, is sold for thirty pieces of silver and the people of Israel and Judah are handed over to the shepherds which would bring on their slaughter.

Judas is consistently depicted as devil possessed or as the devil himself and his work is associated with the darkness.  After the morsel of the last supper is handed to him, “Satan then entered into him”[12] and “after receiving the morsel he went out immediately into the night.”[13] Paul too will connect his deed to darkness: “in the night in which He was betrayed.”[14] Jesus calls him “the son of perdition”[15] and “a devil.”[16] On the other hand, Jesus identifies Peter with Satan – precisely when Peter would obstruct Jesus from going up to Jerusalem to die (Math. 16:23).

So, the sin of handing over Jesus is focused on Judas, but Peter and the Apostles, Israel, Judah, and the Jews, have all played their part in this handing over. Judas seems to represent what Israel has always done: the Israelites would hand Joseph over to death, they would, like Esau, sell their birthright for a mess of pottage. In the midst of the trial they would not only buy and sell the Messiah but proclaim their true king is Caesar. As Jesus says, the tradition (παράδοσιν – that which is handed down) has nullified their religion. Theirs is Yahweh religion in which Yahweh is nullified; it is messianic religion which would kill the messiah. But this sin of the Jews distilled in Judas is precisely that addressed and undone in the economy of salvation.

The very point and substance of salvation is found in God’s handing over of Jesus, not as an extension of darkness and evil, but to dispel the darkness, to overcome death, to free the captives who Paul describes as being themselves “handed over” to their own lusts. “God gave them over in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, so that their bodies would be dishonored among them. For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie.”[17] The lie and lust of the first couple is repeated in their progeny and this seems to have culminated in the “son of perdition” who would sell Jesus for 30 coins. It is precisely in the midst of this handing over that God also “delivered Him over for us all.”[18] That is the confrontation between Jesus and Judas is precisely the point where the light confronts the darkness, where the devil would do his worst, where evil would kill the Son of Glory, and where God would absorb this handing over, defeat it and reverse it. As Barth describes it, the situation between Jesus and Judas is only a heightened form of the situation between Jesus and all men. This is illustrated in the one who would continue the apostleship of Judas.

The place of Judas is taken by one who was handing over (παρεδίδου) Christians to be imprisoned and killed (Acts 8:3). This one who takes Judas place begins where Judas left off.  He counts himself “the chief of sinners” due to his persecution of the Church. Though the fate of Judas is not spelled out, the one who considers himself as guilty or guiltier than Judas also counts himself a worthy Apostle. The one who is rejected, the one who is handed over to sin, through Christ’s being handed over becomes the one who would deliver Christ to the Gentiles: “For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.”[19] How one is oriented to this deliverance is determinative of whether he stands with Jesus or Judas.

The difference between the sin of deliverance and the salvation accomplished through deliverance is found in the subject and object of the deliverance. Where Christ is the object separated out and delivered to be killed, this is the work of the betrayer. This one separates himself out from the death of Christ and refuses to take up the Cross. A theology founded on this sort of betrayal would say “Christ died so that I do not have to.” The one who delivers Christ in the Gospel identifies with what is delivered. This one would “contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all handed down to the saints.”[20] Paul pictures himself as dying daily, as completing the death of Jesus in his own body, that he might deliver Christ to the Gentiles. The “I” that stood with Judas so as to deliver Jesus to death has itself been delivered up to death: “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me.”[21]  

(The course on John with PBI will open for Registration in one week on May 31st.)

[1] See http://forgingploughshares.org/2018/05/03/only-one-king-can-judge-jesus-trial-as-the-suspension-of-sovereign-judgment/

[2] See volume II 2, 35.4 of the Dogmatics for Barth’s treatment of Judas and “handed over.”

[3] Lk 22:21–22

[4] Mk 14:21

[5] Jn 13:22

[6] Mt 26:22

[7] Jn 13:8

[8] Jn 13:10

[9] Jn 11:16

[10] Jn 13:37

[11] Jn 10:12

[12] Jn 13:27

[13] Jn 13:30

[14] 1 Co 11:23

[15] Jn 17:12

[16] John 6:70

[17] Ro 1:24–25

[18] Ro 8:32

[19] 1 Co 15:4–5

[20] Jud 3

[21]Ga 2:20

Two Concepts of Truth: Truth as the Power of Death or the Power of Life

Pilate pronounces what Friedrich Nietzsche called the “most subtle witticism of all time.” With his question, “What is truth?” Pilate “annihilated the New Testament,” according to Nietzsche.  The strong “revel in ambiguity” while the weak cannot “afford uncertainty and so demand a clear dichotomy.” The strong man must take a stand “beyond good and evil” and presumably Pilate, with his question ventures beyond mere morality and religion. The superman braves subtle shades of grey and refuses the dictates of a determinate notion of truth. Jesus, in Nietzsche’s scheme, is the subject/slave of truth – his life depends upon a determinate truth while the judge and executioner can allow for “subtleties” or “contingencies” in truth. Continue reading “Two Concepts of Truth: Truth as the Power of Death or the Power of Life”

The Trial of Jesus as a Trying of Human Law, Justice, and Truth

The trial of Jesus serves as a marker of two types of interpretive frames and two types of theology. A theology built upon abstraction will interpret the trial such that it cannot discriminate between the intent of Pilate, the Jews, and Christ, so that good and evil are fused into a singular purpose. In this understanding, Roman law and God’s law are united to bring about the death of Jesus. God is simply working out his providential intent to punish Jesus under the law so that he might be punished for all. Rome, with its god-Caesar is not being judged, but Rome’s law and justice are perfectly adequate for God’s purposes.  After all, Rome and the Church will unite under Emperor Constantine and this Constantinian Christianity imagines that human law, justice, and government, are in accord with God’s purposes in Christ. In this understanding the economy of salvation works with the economy of human cultures and nations so that salvation comes through Constantinian Rome – or Christian America. As Dante will describe Jesus’ trial, it was under a lawful procedure bringing about a just punishment, therefore, one cannot pronounce its proceedings evil.  Continue reading “The Trial of Jesus as a Trying of Human Law, Justice, and Truth”

Only One King Can Judge: Jesus “Trial” As the Suspension of Sovereign Judgment

In the trial of Jesus in the Gospel of John the words for judgment are never used (κρίσις and κρίνω are completely absent from the Gospel) and no judgment is ever declared. Beyond this, there is an ambiguity as to who is acting as judge. Jesus is not being judged by Pilate, at least in any formal sense, as Pilate is going to refuse to pronounce judgment.  Pilate attempts to follow his wife’s advice, to “have nothing to do with this man,” and so he “washes his hands” of the affair by simply turning the matter over to the Jews. He suggests to the Jews, “Take Him yourselves and crucify Him, for I find no guilt in Him” (19:6, NASB). This is more of a taunt on the part of Pilate, for he knows they have no power to crucify and are precisely forbidden by Roman law to try capital cases and their own law forbids crucifixion.  Pilate claims there is “no case” against the man and so he cannot pass judgment and there is to be no trial. When the Jews begin to yell, “Crucify him,” Pilate reiterates that there is “no case” against the man.  The Jewish leaders then suggest that, though he may not have broken Roman law, Jesus has broken Jewish law by claiming to be the Son of God.  For Pilate, this is one more turn of the screw, he becomes “even more afraid.”  Pilate, as I build the case below, seems to suspect he is the one undergoing trial and judgment.   Continue reading “Only One King Can Judge: Jesus “Trial” As the Suspension of Sovereign Judgment”

Emergent Freedom Versus Hellish Sovereignty: With Michelangelo

Between Calvin’s notion of double predestination and the idea of a fully developed human agency freely choosing (either heaven or hell), is the biblical picture of humans emerging in their fullness only in and through the work of Christ.  Michelangelo’s sculpture, Awakening Slave, in which a human form appears to be emerging from stone, illustrates the biblical picture of this slowly emerging humanity. The slave is missing his head and the stone itself seems to have imprisoned the man. The dust (adamah), like the stone from whence the slave emerges, is both the substance and that which constrains Adam (humankind) – the tendency or pull is one of return to dust. Just as the sculpture is incomplete, Adam is declared incomplete apart from Eve yet, Eve is the foreshadowing of an emerging new humanity (the Church). The completion of man by the creation of woman, means creation is an open-ended process in which the whole inner basis of humankind (contained in the name Adam) is an ongoing realization. The Second Adam completes the emergence of the human capacity for image bearing but the dust constricts, in varying degrees, those passing from the first Adam to the Second. Paul pictures it both as an accomplished fact (“through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men” (Ro 5:18, NASB)) and an unfolding process (“through the obedience of the One the many will be made righteous” (Ro 5:19)). Continue reading “Emergent Freedom Versus Hellish Sovereignty: With Michelangelo”

The Narrow Way to Universal Salvation

The Bible tells us two things about salvation which do not seem to fit together: the way is narrow and few find it and salvation is universal, inclusive of the cosmos and all peoples.  Two sorts of Christianity have developed emphasizing these two ways. One focuses on biblical passages which describe a narrow path to salvation and a broad path to destruction, with the presumption that all who do not find the first path will burn in hell forever. This group is focused on evangelism, personal salvation, and going to heaven. In its harsher forms (both Roman Catholic and Protestant) no mitigating circumstance enters into consideration (age, mental capacities, opportunity to hear the Gospel), so that all those who have not accepted the Gospel are consigned to hell. Francis Xavier and Hudson Taylor might be described as commendable examples of those who have attempted to bear this heavy load. Xavier dies of exhaustion and Taylor suffers mental collapse in the course of trying to rescue as many as possible from the wrath of God.  Luther’s picture of the redeemed enjoying the sight of family members roasting in hell and Calvin’s notion that large portions of hell are populated by fingerling size infants (no larger than a cubit), would seem to point to a less commendable “bent” of mind (but bent or broken seems to be the implication).  The other brand of Christianity focuses on biblical passages describing universal salvation and assumes everyone is eventually saved – by various means depending on the sect. This group is not so focused on evangelism and is relieved of some of the harsher strictures of its fundamentalist twin. In its more fatuous form this universalist faith reduces, in the words of one of its more famous purveyors, to the lessons learned in kindergarten: “Hold hands when crossing the street and remember, imagination is stronger than knowledge, myth is more potent than history, and dreams are more powerful than facts.” This Pee Wee Herman sort of playhouse Christianity demands no strength of mind nor exertion of moral effort. Continue reading “The Narrow Way to Universal Salvation”

Eternal Torturous Existence: The Foundation of Theology Gone Bad Or The Good News of Hell

The doctrine of hell as eternal torturous existence for the unsaved poses “endless” problems which, I recognized many years ago, is foundational to a peculiarly bad theology. An eternally angry God unleashing wrath forever against finite creatures with limited capacities and opportunities depends upon a series of misunderstandings and outright heresies. The innate immortality of the soul, wrath as on a continuum in the divine nature coexisting forever with love, the Cross as an instrument of divine torture, missing hell and going to heaven as the focus of salvation; this sort of hell is the keystone to a Gnostic Christianity.  Human rebellion and divine wrath become infinite categories and the Cross and redemption are absorbed into this skewed form of theology. In the words of one of my former professors, the Cross is the place Christ suffers eternal hell on our behalf.  He explains, this suffering must be primarily “spiritual” so as to be infinite, which as I pointed out to him, would seem to relieve us of the necessity of the incarnation and the physical-historical necessity of the Cross. Christ could undergo this spiritual suffering in heaven. In other words, to follow this logic will land one just short of the anti-Christ position of denying that Christ came in the flesh – here he simply need not have come in the flesh.  That there is not one Scripture that pictures the Cross as specifically addressing the category of hell or Gehenna in no way slows the momentum of this hellish logic.  The doctrine of eternal conscious torture bears such weight as to skew the doctrines of God, man, and salvation, and it becomes the implicit frame for understanding the New Testament. Continue reading “Eternal Torturous Existence: The Foundation of Theology Gone Bad Or The Good News of Hell”

A Response to White Supremacy and the Gospel of Grace

In 2016 81% of America’s evangelical Christians voted to place in the seat of the presidency of the United States a man who had built his political career on the utterly false and disproven claim that the nation’s first black president had been born in Kenya and therefore occupied the White House illegally, and a man who ran his presidential campaign on the promise that “we’re going to take the country back.”[1]  Most black Americans understood that phrase to mean, “We’ll take the country back for white dominance and control,” an interpretation validated by David Duke, former Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, who said at a White Nationalist “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia on August 12, 2017, “We’re going to fulfill the promises of Donald Trump.  That’s what we believed in.  That’s why we voted for Donald Trump, because he said he’s going to take our country back—and that’s what we’ve got to do.”[2]

If we are beginning to grasp the depth and breadth and power of the myth of white supremacy in American life, and if we are willing to acknowledge the failures of the church in this regard, then we now must ask, in what ways has our theology failed us?  What is it about the theology that many American Christians have embraced that has permitted—and even sanctioned—such complicity in the bigotry and racial oppression of America’s popular culture?  And the corollary question is this—how can Christian theology equip us to resist the myth of white supremacy in all its forms?  Richard Hughes

Jonathan Totty and I started a study group at the Stone Campbell Journal Conference last year and this paper is a response to the paper by prominent Church of Christ historian Richard Hughes. Richard is Scholar-in- Residence at the College of Bible and Ministry at Lipscomb University. He was Distinguished Professor of Religion, Messiah College, 2006-2014 and Distinguished Professor, Religion Division, Pepperdine University, 1994-2006. Richard is the author of some 19 books and is the key authority on the history of the Restoration Movement.  In coming weeks we will air 2 podcasts with Richard.

In my response to Richard’s paper White Supremacy and the Gospel of Grace I want to emphasize the questions he has raised, underline and emphasize key points, and fill out potential responses – some of which may go beyond what he might want to say. I conclude by summing up James Cone’s picture of the lynching tree as dependent upon a skewed understanding of the Cross. (I appeal throughout to previous blogs which have appeared in Walking Truth.)

A brief summary of the Paper White Supremacy and the Gospel of Grace:

Richard’s paper describes a white supremacy which extends into the present from the past (slavery in America) in which, intertwined with Christianity, it has had theological support. The conviction that the United States was a Christian nation was one factor in the rise of racial oppression as there seemed to be something like official religious sanction of white supremacy. He cites the election of Donald Trump and evangelical support for Trump as a living proof that white supremacy is alive and well, not in spite of, but because of evangelical Christians. He demonstrates that evangelicalism has been particularly prone to allowing the culture to shape the church in this country.

Many American Christians have read—and continue to read—the biblical text through the lens of American popular culture while they should read the culture through the lens of the biblical text.  And through that misreading, they allow the American nation, its values and its dominant culture, to take the place of the only reality to which, as Christians, they should pledge their allegiance: the biblical vision of the kingdom of God.

The privatized – “going to heaven when you die” – belief of evangelicals has given rise to a disembodied form of faith which eschews recognition of works – challenging real-world evil (as in the case of Paul Farmer’s medical work in Haiti) as being unconnected to salvation of the soul.

The problem is linked specifically to Campbell’s rationalistic approach to Scripture which caused Campbell to seldom ask about the poor and marginalized as he was focused on a rationalistic plan of salvation which did not seem to include resistance to imperial powers. His notion that the Christian age – the Church –  begins in Acts meant that the ethics of Jesus and the embodied nature of Israel were not immediately applicable to the church. Some in the Churches of Christ concluded they had succeeded in restoring the New Testament Church and that salvation depended on belonging to this one true church.

Having obscured the central themes of the biblical message, the white Churches of Christ, at the time of the Freedom Movement (of Martin Luther King Jr. and civil rights activists), were wholly unprepared to embrace their brothers and sisters of color who asked for nothing more than to be treated with respect as human beings.  Indeed, they were wholly unprepared to discern in the Freedom Movement the faces of the kingdom of God.

Richard suggests there are two necessary assets necessary to a solution: We need to be able to assess our culture from a vantage, as if it were, outside of the culture and this vantage must provide an alternative which would challenge the culture.  He links this to God’s love and unmerited grace for us and the love and grace which must be extended to our neighbors. Richard claims it was a focus on works, to the exclusion of unmerited grace, which caused the Church of Christ to fail to have the two named assets above. In his conclusion, he maintains it is only through the Kingdom teaching of the New Testament, and its focus on “concern for the poor, the dispossessed, those in prison, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and all those who suffer at the hands of the world’s elites.”

In short, his paper seeks to explain how to expel the myth of white supremacy and to describe, in part, the failed theology giving rise to the myth and to provide a theological resolution in an understanding of the centrality of Kingdom and the Gospel’s connection to this Kingdom.

The Key to Overcoming White Supremacy 

In my reading, the opening statement of the paper frames all else that Richard says.

If the heart of Jesus’ preaching was his concern and compassion for disenfranchised and oppressed people, then the first step toward becoming his disciple is to listen carefully and attentively to what those people wish to tell us about the contours of their lives. In America, oppressed and marginalized black people have testified almost unanimously to the twin realities of white supremacy, on the one hand, and the racial failures of white Christianity, on the other.

There are several tests which the New Testament provides to judge true religion. As James describes it, one must be a doer of the word. A religion that does not provide for widows, orphans, and the poor, is not true religion. A religion which creates widows and orphans and which impoverishes, kills, excludes, and oppresses is, by extension, “defiled and impure” (James 1:19-27).  One who denigrates the impoverished and joins the oppressor is not a Jesus follower. The Christian loves his neighbor who is by definition (according to both James and Jesus) one of the poor and oppressed (James 2). In his various tests of true religion James provides, though, a singular definitive marker for distinguishing Christianity from pure evil – the capacity, on the part of God, to hear the oppressed.

Is the problem a focus on commands over grace or a misunderstood grace?

 A question I have for Richard, is his depiction of the complicity of the Church of Christ in white supremacy because of its focus on works as opposed to grace. I wonder if this agrees with his own, earlier description, of the problem in conjunction with Campbell? It is precisely the ethics of Christ and the embodied ethics of Israel – works or doing things (not “works of the law” such as the food laws and circumcision) which is needed and which is left out of a supersessionist or a disembodied theology.  Richard wants to locate the problem in a focus on God’s “commands” as opposed to a focus on God’s “grace.”  This way of construing the problem seems to presume there is such a thing in the Bible as commands or law as over and against grace.

The error of the Lutheran reading of Paul, which I do not think Richard is making, imagines Paul pits law against grace and would presume to pit the Old Testament against the New.  Luther, Calvin, and evangelicalism, picture salvation as occurring apart from “works” but they confuse the works of the law and the works of the Catholic church – or the work of salvation which the church brings about. As a result, evangelicalism has disassociated salvation from the Church or the Kingdom.  Let me suggest the Church of Christ is not wrong in imagining it is saved by being part of the true Church – it is wrong in equating that true Church with itself or simply with orthodox “faith” (with “faith” being more akin to the empty category as it exists in evangelicalism).

We might hope that our particular expression of the faith will preserve us from systemic complicity in evil, but orthodoxy is apparently no protection. “You believe that God is one. You do well; the demons also believe, and shudder” (James 2:19, ASB).  A small dose of history indicates near universal collusion among churches (with exceptions within any particular group) with slavery, anti-Semitism, and various forms of political evil.  Membership in a particular church will not preserve from complicity in evil and, in fact, church history teaches us that membership in any particular church has sometimes been more of a guarantee of complicity than not. (Even James is having to warn one of the first churches against denigrating the poor.)  We certainly need to study the failings of particular groups but we can also draw some generalizations.

Richard’s main point provides a corrective: Christian complicity in systemic evil, such as slavery, national socialism, white supremacy, bigotry, oppression of women and minorities, or simply the abuse, due to misshapen theology, visited upon the powerless (children, women, people of color, foreigners, the worker denied his wages in James), is a clear sign of a religion that has gone deaf – that is one that does not hear the voice of the oppressed. The danger of evil and especially of an evil religion is that the voice of the oppressors drowns out the voice of the oppressed, all in the name of orthodox Christianity.

Is it adequate to focus on unmerited grace apart from the Church as the channel of grace?

Richard imagines that a refocus on unmerited grace is a theological step in the right direction.  It seems necessary though, to connect this unmerited grace to the promise God gives to Abraham which ties grace to a particular form which precedes and explains the law and all that Israel is.  The Church is on a continuum with Israel – it is the fulfillment of Israel – and so it accomplishes the salvation promised to Israel.  But this is a socio-political-cultural salvation – an embodied salvation which is obvious in the “work” for the poor and oppressed that it accomplishes.  This is a salvation which Paul says we must “work out in fear and trembling.”  This is a practical salvation which not only shows itself in the work it does but must be equated with following Jesus, becoming true disciples, putting on and practicing the fruits of the Spirit. Salvation then, is a set of practices instituted by Christ in and through the Church and God’s grace is given to us in and through these practices modeled and learned in the Church.

In the typical evangelical Protestant understanding “grace” amounts to an empty category as far as human action is concerned.  Unmerited grace needs to be combined with an ecclesiology which gives substance to this grace as it is at work in the world. So, Campbell’s rationalistic notions of how to restore the New Testament Church may have been inadequate but his focus on what is sometimes called the sacraments of the Church – baptism and the Lord’s Supper – inasmuch as these tie us to an understanding that redemption is through the Kingdom is a step in the right direction.

An understanding that the Church is distinctive from culture could have only developed in a Movement in which there was focus on the distinctive role of the Church. Alexander Campbell himself had objected to the Evangelical Alliance’s faith statement in 1846 in regard to matters of conversion and faith (the perennial divide over the issue of baptism connected to both the work of the Church and the Spirit). He objected to the notion of total depravity, statements in regard to the Trinity, and the formulations surrounding Christ. The broad differences were over centrality of the Church and its direct role in salvation, which is not to claim his theology was adequate. However, Campbell’s ecclesiology, in its essence, was directly linked to his soteriology and it is in uncoupling these two that evangelicalism is unhinged.

Campbell and the early disciples were careful to negotiate the parachurch question and with it evangelical faith and practice. Faith could not float free of the embodied practices of the local church (baptism, communion, discipleship, preaching).  The concern had been to make the local congregation central and this was reflected in a theology which required entry into the Church through baptism and fellowship in weekly communion, so that salvation was in and through the Church. D. L. Moody’s biographer, James Findlay, by way of contrast, claimed Moody had no doctrine of the Church whatsoever.  This lack of focus on the Church typifies the evangelicalism absorbed by the Restoration Movement.

Richard asks,

What kind of theology would allow self-professed followers of Jesus to hold membership in the Klan?  What kind of theology would allow a disciple of Jesus to practice racial discrimination and then say with a straight face, “We were not prejudiced against the Negroes”?  And what kind of theology would allow Christians to refuse to worship with other believers, even to call the police if those “others” didn’t leave?

He answers, “a theology that offers believers no means of resistance against the bigotry and failures of the popular culture.”  Evangelicalism leaves itself wide open the culture as it has no vantage of resistance and white supremacy in churches is proof that they have been completely co-opted by the culture. 

At what point is the church no longer the Church?

As the quotations from Frederick Douglas indicate – the question is if what is being described as Christianity has anything to do with the teaching of Jesus. Is a Christianity complicit in and supportive of evil still worthy of the name?  If salvation is primarily concerned with souls going to heaven it may be impossible to say what is or is not Christianity but if salvation has to do with a real-world deliverance from evil there is no great mystery as to when the faith has been abandoned.

Frederick Douglas claimed there was a difference so wide between the Christianity of Christ and the Christianity of this land “that to receive the one as good, pure, and holy, is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. To be the friend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemy of the other.” Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity.”

Here Frederick Douglas and James Cone hit a very similar tone. James Cone, in The Cross and the Lynching Tree, views the lynching tree in light of the Cross (and vice versa). His Black Liberation Theology concludes, “Either God is identified with the oppressed to the point that their experience becomes God’s experience, or God is a God of racism.” We must accept, according to Cone, “that God is known where human beings experience humiliation and suffering” and that He identifies with the oppressed and suffering. The “very essence of divine activity” as revealed in the Cross enables us to align the lynching tree with the Cross.2 When we make this alignment, we recognize God and his children are not the cultivators of this strange fruit (the fruit of the lynching tree) – Christ and Christians are that fruit. Christ was himself hung from a tree and his followers identify, not with those who put him there, but with the one on the lynching tree.

Cone maintains that God is not the God of all people as he is against the oppressor and is the God of the oppressed. He concludes, “So-called Christianity, as commonly practiced in the United States, is actually the racist Antichrist.” This “false Christianity . . . of the oppressor must be replaced by an authentic Christianity fully identified with the poor and oppressed.”

What was absolutely clear to a run-away slave and the voice we continue to hear from the oppressed, is a truth obscured by economics, national and regional loyalty, and what amounted to a way of life.  The “slave-holding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land” did not have the perspective to understand it was an abomination to the name of Christ. “Isn’t this the purest form of deceit,” to call evil good in the name of Christ? The question which Richard’s paper raises (though he does not press the question) but he quotes King as raising: “Some one hundred years later, many white churches were still complicit in racial oppression, leading Martin Luther King Jr. to ask regarding those churches, ‘What kind of people worship here?  Who is their God?’”[3]  

Isn’t the instinct to silence the aggrieved the evil that put Christ on the Cross (arrested at night, illegally tried).  Douglas says, “I am filled with unutterable loathing when I contemplate the religious pomp and show, together with the horrible inconsistencies, which everywhere surround me.” To paraphrase Douglas, we still have vile oppressors for ministers and women denigrators for religious professors. “The man who wields the blood-clotted whip during the week fills the pulpit on Sunday and claims to be a minister of the meek and lowly Jesus.” The man who has robbed me and my family of my earnings “meets me as a class-leader on Sunday morning, to show me the way of life, and the path of salvation.” James warns, however, that the enrichment of some at the expense of others creates the wealth that “will be a witness against you and will consume your flesh like fire” (James 5:3).

James seems to know of only one form of wealth; ill-gotten gain obtained by oppressing the poor, the cry of which passes by the deaf ear of the oppressors and falls on the ear of God. If you cannot hear the oppressed, this marks you out as one who has “fattened his heart in a day of slaughter” (James 5:5).  The religion which Douglas condemns is precisely the unjust religion James condemns and both appear to parallel contemporary forms of the faith.

One wonders, in this present time of Christian support of a politics of hate, if the predominant religion of this land should be called Christianity? Is a faith that requires oppression and exclusion, which explicitly tolerates and promotes white supremacy, “Christianity.” Isn’t this, as Douglas would have it, “the climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels.” Isn’t this precisely the false religion which James warns should not be confused with authentic forms of the Faith? This sort of religion makes distinctions among people. It says to the poor man, the foreigner, the person of color, “You stand over there, or sit down by my footstool” (James 2:3). In dishonoring the poor man and favoring the rich, James explains, you have dishonored Christ.

As Douglas asks, is this not the same one of whom Jesus speaks, the one who “loves the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues, and to be called of men, Rabbi, Rabbi.” Is this a Christian or one of the Pharisees and hypocrites who make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter; but within, is full of extortion and excess. Do we have here one of the whited sepulchers, which appear beautiful outwardly, but are within full of dead men’s bones, and of all uncleanness? Jesus seems to be targeting religion gone bad – and this religion is marked out by its excessive display, arrogance, and extortion. Douglas concludes, “Dark and terrible as is this picture, I hold it to be strictly true of the overwhelming mass of professed Christians in America. They strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. Could anything be more true of our churches?”

Salvation is an active living out of a grace received

Richard draws together ecclesiology and soteriology in his picture of the Kingdom:

Put another way, the “gospel of the kingdom of God” is the corollary to the “gospel of grace.”  It tells us that just as God has said “yes” to us in spite of our failures, so we must say “yes” to others in spite of their failures.  Or, in the words of John, “We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.” (I John 3:16)

What I have suggested is that we need to draw them even tighter – to directly correlate God’s grace and our reception of that grace. One cannot fail to love his brother and still count himself as a recipient of God’s grace.  One cannot be among the oppressors and count himself among the saved. One cannot be an evil, orthodox, Christian.  One cannot stand at the foot of the lynching tree and claim the grace of the Cross.

We must recover the fact that the Cross addresses the lynching tree and it addresses white supremacy. The same evil accounts for both but the Cross addresses and overcomes this evil. The Cross is meant to expose and stop the sort of evil involved in lynching, racism, and oppression of the stranger. Yet, there is a form of Christianity which has been rendered ineffective and complicit in evil. How is it that the Cross is emblazoned on battle shields and lawns (as with the KKK) as the emblem of violence and racism? As Richard asks, “What kind of theology would allow self-professed followers of Jesus to hold membership in the Klan?”

Richard recognizes that the Kingdom of God is opposed to the kingdoms of Caesar and one might imply that he is arguing against every form of Constantinian Christianity.

In the context of imperial Rome, the angel’s proclamation was both revolutionary and seditious, for its two key words—Savior and Lord—were titles routinely applied to the emperor Caesar Augustus.  Indeed, Caesar’s titles included “Divine,” “Son of God,” “God,” “God from God,” “Redeemer,” “Liberator,” “Lord,” and “Savior of the World.”

“[Early] Christians must have understood,” John Dominic Crossan concludes, “that to proclaim Jesus as Son of God was deliberately denying Caesar his highest title and that to announce Jesus as Lord and Savior was calculated treason.”

Richard is clearly describing a Christianity which needs to make a departure from the predominant culture – American culture in our case.  Let me suggest that a full embrace of an alternative soteriology – an alternative doctrine of the Cross would complete the picture Richard is tracing for us.

A defective understanding of the Cross gives us the lynching tree 

Cone’s claim is that our theology of the Cross has numbed us to the evil which the Cross is meant to expose. In Cone’s estimate, the Anselmian doctrine of Divine Satisfaction (and by extension, Calvin’s penal substitution), has so twisted the meaning of the Cross that we fail to identify the lynching tree and the Cross. As Denny Weaver points out, Anselm’s doctrine is developed under a Constantinian Christianity which needed to accommodate Christian’s wielding the sword. Cone notes that it also accommodated slavery and racism. Anselm’s doctrine, the received understanding among the majority, accommodates the sword, racism, and oppression of women, so that Cone (from a black perspective), feminist and womanist theologians (from the perspective of female oppression), and Anabaptists such as Weaver (from a pacifist perspective) have converged upon critique of Anselm’s atonement theory. As Weaver describes it, they “have challenged any understanding of atonement that presumes salvation or reconciliation to God that would understand the killing of Jesus as an act required in order to satisfy divine justice.” 

Anselm’s doctrine, in serving a Constantinian Christianity, has done harm in several directions. It abstracts the evil of the Cross into a theory of justice in which God enacts violence so as to meet his standard of righteousness. The death of Christ, rather than being a murder carried out by Rome and the Jewish authorities, is an act of violence for which God is ultimately responsible. Rather than uncovering scapegoating of an innocent victim, scapegoating seems to be encouraged and required – even God does it. This violent picture of the atonement projects the violence back onto God, which is something on the order of an originary violence – as opposed to an originary peace. Where the New Testament would have us identify with the victim – the scapegoat (e.g. the woman taken in adultery, the parable of the vineyard, the passion story itself) under Divine Satisfaction we are made to identify with the necessity of having a victim. Christ died so that we do not have to. His death is not thought of as a model in which we would take up our cross and follow him; rather it is a onetime event which allows us to escape the same fate.

There is a great deal wrong with Divine Satisfaction (or its derivative – Penal Substitution) but the greater harm may arise, for many, from the displacement of biblical atonement in which the Cross of Christ is defeating a real-world evil. To get rid of Christian complicity in evil it is necessary to identify it and understand how the Cross opposes it. It is necessary to equate racism, oppression of the poor the foreigner and the stranger, oppression of women, and violence, with the sin Christ overcomes. This is so simplistic as to be tautological, yet as with the lynching tree and the cross, there is a disconnect produced by a turn from Christ’s exposure of evil. As Rene Girard puts it, “We are aware that the Gospels reject persecution. What we do not realize is that, by doing so, they release its mechanism and demolish the entire human religion and the resulting cultures.”

Conclusion: Richard draws out the pervasive nature of the problem.

I am speaking, rather, of virtually all white Americans, including myself, for the myth of white supremacy is the air we breathe, the water in which we swim, an ideology that is so deeply embedded in our common culture that we can escape the power it wields over our minds and emotions with great difficulty, if at all.

The pervasive problem of a culture given over to white supremacy calls for a pervasive answer in a counter-cultural Church.  How might we test if we have ear for the cry of the oppressed.

Douglas, on his arrival in the British Isles said, he experienced “an absence, a perfect absence, of everything like that disgusting hate with which we are pursued” in America. Living, as I do, in “Little Dixie” I cannot imagine that the relief Douglas felt on escaping this country in 1845, as a fugitive slave, is much different than the relief young black men feel after having escaped portions of my State and country. The test of an authentic Christianity, at a minimum, may be the realization of “an absence, a perfect absence, of everything like that disgusting hate with which we are pursued” among our black brothers and sisters.

[1] “Trump: We’re Going to Take the Country Back,” Fox News Insider, July 12, 2015: http://insider.foxnews.com/2015/07/12/donald-trump-phoenix-speech-were-going-take-country-back, accessed January 15, 2017.

[2] Libby Nelson, “’Why we voted for Donald Trump’: David Duke explains the white supremacist Charlottesville protests,” Vox, April 12, 2017, at https://www.vox.com/2017/8/12/16138358/charlottesville-protests-david-duke-kkk, accessed August 13, 2017.

[3] Martin Luther King Jr., “Letter from Birmingham City Jail” in James Melvin Washington, ed., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr. (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1986), 299.

Easter’s Defeat of the Necessity of God

The God of the philosophers (the unmoved mover), the God of German idealism (who is becoming), and the God constituted as part of the psyche (the source of the previous two) is, I would claim, a singular entity which Christ defeated and rendered unnecessary in his death and resurrection. In each instance, God is the end term of a logical and psychological necessity in which the posited structure requires God. The philosophical, metaphysical, and psychological world constituted (I was going to say “glued together” but this is a world continually coming unglued) in conjunction with this God precedes, rather than proceeds from, his existence. It is not only a particular logic and mode of argumentation at work but this logic, in producing or arriving at God, absolutizes itself or the self’s capacity for the divine.  This way of putting it may miss the fact that this is an absolute immediately at hand, which argument does not so much render necessary as it renames. Underlying the absolute conclusion (God), the necessity of the argument (an irresistible logic, often equated with the divine), is a more immediate constraint – human finitude and mortality.  The trick of turning death into an ontological and epistemological resource equated with God is, precisely, the necessity Christ overcame. Continue reading “Easter’s Defeat of the Necessity of God”

Fredrick Douglas’ and James’ Test for True Religion: Does American Faith Pass?

The evil done in spite of the Christian faith (against the conscience) pales in comparison to the evil done on behalf of the faith (in good conscience).  Christian complicity in systemic evil, such as slavery, national socialism, white supremacy, bigotry, oppression of women and minorities, or simply the abuse, due to misshapen theology, visited upon the powerless (children, women, people of color, foreigners, the worker denied his wages in James), is a clear sign of a religion that has gone deaf. The danger of evil and especially of an evil religion is that the voice of the oppressors drowns out the voice of the oppressed, all in the name of Christianity. We can, I argue below, be preserved from evil or be preserved from being the devil ourselves in developing our capacity to hear.   Continue reading “Fredrick Douglas’ and James’ Test for True Religion: Does American Faith Pass?”