A Review of Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus

I am happy to share that the first review of my book, Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus: The Ethical Challenge of the Parables, has just been published in the journal Studies in Christian Ethics. Professor Edwina Pio concludes, “the book is a fabulous and crucial work of how the parables of Jesus are relevant at the micro (individual), meso (organisational/community), and macro (country/world) levels in our explosive, generous, wonderful world.” 

I am grateful for her careful reading and to see that the key themes of the parables come through to reviewers. According to Pio, the book “shows us how one can be contemplative and pragmatic on issues of social justice”—picking up on the focus of contemplation and action that marks the spirit of the Sisters of Mercy. In my view, one of the most exciting features of the book is the way it highlights the voices and perspectives of the Sisters of Mercy, with Sisters contributing a reflection on each parable that I explore. 

Pio also notes, “The parables are a call of sacredness, often a tiny speck of hope and light in our volatile, frequently dark world.” 

For those of us looking for light and hope today, the invitation of the parables to see our fellow humans in new ways and to engage the world through an ethic of love, mercy, and justice remains as timely as ever.

You can see the complete review here.

The Parables of Jesus: An Invitation to Reflect on Our World in 2025

I recently had the opportunity to read a brief selection from my book, Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus: The Ethical Challenge of the Parables, at a dinner. I chose to read from the concluding chapter where I drew out the shared themes of the parables, those ideas that are touched on in different ways in different parables, but seem to be reflected in the parables as a whole. With that reading in mind, I am reflecting on the impact of some of the recent executive orders that many (including me) are experiencing as disruptive, disturbing, and cruel, and some of which the courts have paused due to their being illegal or unconstitutional. I am trying to discern my own response, particularly as it is informed by my work at a Catholic university, my scholarship as a theologian, and my values as a Christian. As part of that, I thought I would revisit the themes of the parables as I explored them in my book and see what insights that exercise might offer.

Here are eight themes of the parables as I discern them:

1. The parables of Jesus assert the dignity, value, and worth of every person.
2. The parables are infused with the theme of concern and responsibility for the needs of those whose dignity is compromised or overlooked.
3. The parables show us that compassion is not merely an obligation but rather a visceral, human response to the suffering of others that motivates action to relieve that suffering.
4. Parables remind us of the reality of the interconnectedness of all persons, whether it is recognized or not. Pope Francis put it concisely this way: “We are all really responsible for all.” Theologians connect this theme with the ancient concept of the Common Good—a state of being where everyone has what they need in order to thrive.
5. Just as they promote compassion, the parables draw explicit attention to matters of justice. True mercy attends to matters of justice and injustice and seeks to remedy injustice out of concern for those who suffer as a result.
6. In many parables Jesus gives attention to the beauty and intricacy of the created world, inviting readers to see themselves as part of this larger community of life. As an expansion of the notion of the interconnectedness of all persons we encounter in the parables the interconnectedness of humans with all of the natural world. Humans, while unique, are not separate from the natural world, but actually quite literally part of it.
7. The parables highlight that the small moments, actions, and choices of daily life are, in the divine economy, the big moments. Ordinary daily life encounters and decisions may seem insignificant but they are actually where God’s kingdom is enacted or contradicted.
8. Parables do not give simple instructions to do this or that but rather invite readers to open their eyes and imagine their world differently in light of values of love, mercy, and justice, and then to live accordingly. What that looks like will be different in each new and unimagined circumstance we find ourselves in.

Ultimately the parables offer an imaginative vision of a just and merciful world in which readers are invited to contribute to human flourishing. It is a world where all creatures are reverenced and respected as a part of all that exists. It is also a world in which pain, suffering, and injustice exist and must be faced. In such a world of chaos and struggle, compassion for others and a concern for the well-being of others motivates a response of love and concern for all such suffering. In addition, the response of love is one that faces reality head on, while recognizing the limited scope of our individual grasp of it. In such a way, the person who lives in mercy recognizes their need of others, and even the need of the oppressor to receive and experience mercy, so that the community can be restored and achieve its highest potential. The parables do not seem to assume that all will embrace this mercy and live into it; but they present the listener with the reality that the time to choose it is the present moment, and the place to experience it is wherever one is at the moment.

With these thoughts in mind, my hope is that we all may find in this moment of challenge an invitation to revisit our own values, consider the forces which shape our beliefs, and discern what love, mercy, and justice might look like in 2025.

 

Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus

I'm excited to announce that my new book, Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus: The Ethical Challenge of the Parables, is now available. I wrote this book for all who have an interest in what Jesus taught and how he taught it, but who also may be interested to consider how aspects of his message have been eclipsed over the centuries through modes of interpretation that either miss the point or, worse, fit the teaching of Jesus into a box in which it really can't be contained. With an eye toward first-century culture and the role of stories in antiquity, this book examines how the teaching of Jesus has something to say to all of us today as we wrestle with some very complex and daunting societal and human rights issues.

The idea for this book started early in my time at Carlow University when I began teaching a new kind of course that is unique to Carlow: a Contemplation and Action course. These courses invite first-year students to explore a particular topic in the liberal arts as they learn about the heritage and values of the Sisters of Mercy. At the same time, they engage in a small act of mercy each day throughout the course, and reflect on that activity in conjunction with the readings about the Sisters of Mercy and the subject matter of the course. As a biblical scholar, it seemed obvious to me that the parables--short stories told by Jesus to challenge, provoke, and engage his listeners in reflection on their own values and actions--would be a great area of exploration for this course. And I was right! But the challenge for me was to find a textbook that both provided an accessible introduction to understanding parables in their original context (many students [and adults for that matter] do not even know what a parable is) as well as linkages to the possible implications of those parables in our world today. In the end, I chose Amy-Jill Levine's excellent book, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi, which provides a great entry point, but is a little advanced in some regards for first-year students with no background in the academic study of religion. As I taught the course over several years and connected the parables with the concept of mercy as lived out by the Sisters of Mercy, I began to see that there was a need for a book that could explicitly make those connections and also share them with others at an accessible level. 

And so I began working on this book in 2018. Since that time, it feels like the world has changed dramatically in some unpredictable and scary ways. Not only the world but it seems that segments of north American Christianity have been changing as well, to the point where messages of exclusion, hatred, and intolerance--things that one would think were incompatible with the love of Jesus for people in need--are praised as virtues. Writing and teaching on the parables in the context of our increasingly fragmented religious, political, and social worlds made it clear to me that this book was more needed than I originally even considered. My hope is that this book will be an encouragement to people of goodwill to engage in the kinds of contemplation and action that are needed in our world today in the face of injustice and inhumanity. 

Social Justice in the Stories of Jesus: The Ethical Challenge of the Parables is published by Wiley-Blackwell and will be in print January 9, 2024.

Entering into Holy Week with the Good Samaritan

At this point in my spring course on the parables of Jesus we have just explored the parable of the Good Samaritan. This is always a rewarding and challenging week as we consider the parable in its original context and also its implications for today: What does having mercy mean today? Who is my neighbor? Who are the wounded on the side of the road today? Will I allow myself to see them, really see them, and respond?

This week in the class also marks an interesting moment where we encounter a concept which is new to most students: anti-Judaism. Students know about anti-Semitism, but anti-Judaism is a new one for most. In an article I published last year I included a short section discussing anti-Judaism and the parable of the Good Samaritan. Here is a paragraph from it:

The fact that the characters who pass by on the other side of the road and do not show mercy are Jewish religious leaders has given rise to anti-Jewish readings of the parable. In this context anti-Judaism takes shape in an interpretation which, intentionally or unintentionally, promotes Christianity as superior and Judaism as inferior. (Note: It is useful here to consider the distinction between anti-Judaism, which denigrates Jewish religion, and anti-Semitism, a racist ideology. For a good overview of anti-Jewish interpretation of the parables, see Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi [New York: HarperOne, 2014], 23-25.)

A standard anti-Jewish view of this parable assumes that Judaism is legalistic and heartless and that the priest and the Levite choose to observe Jewish law rather than help a fellow human being. By contrast, such a view claims that Christianity focuses on love and compassion and this parable shows that Jesus came to introduce a message of compassion which is, if not foreign to Jewish thought, at least only minimally present in it. One flaw in this line of interpretation is that Jesus was not introducing a new teaching but rather drawing attention to what Judaism already taught: the obligation to have compassion on one’s neighbor and someone in need (cf. Lev. 19:18). The Hebrew Scriptures are rich with teaching about God’s concern for the poor, the widow, the orphan, the alien, and of the obligation of God’s people to care for them. Jesus, as a Jew speaking to Jews, was not denouncing Judaism with his parables, but reminding listeners of truths they already knew. In light of its history of interpretation, this parable presents an opportunity for all of us to begin to grapple with anti-Judaism and become aware of the subtle ways in which anti-Judaism has influenced biblical interpretation. (Gordley, "Parables and the Principle of Mercy," Journal of Catholic Higher Education 39 [2020]: 15-36)

Consideration of this matter is particularly important in the 2020’s when anti-Semitism is—sadly—on the rise. Addressing anti-Semitism derived from the New Testament is not a minor issue. It is 2021 current headline news:

From Forbes: "Hate Crimes Against Jewish Students Are At An All-Time High." 

And in Iowa: "Iowans reported four anti-Semitic incidents in 2020, three of them involving public vandalism. Most recently, on the first day of Hanukkah in December, someone used red spray paint to scrawl the New Testament biblical citation “John 8:44” at an entrance of Davenport's Temple Emanuel." (From the DesMoines Register)

And of course we all witnessed the anti-Semitic symbols on display on January 6 at the insurrection and attack on our nation’s Capitol.

In the article of mine that I quoted from above, I also add this:

From anti-Jewish biblical interpretation to destructive action is not a big step. Biblical scholar Dominic Crossan observes, 'The trajectory of human violence escalates almost inevitably from the ideological through the rhetorical to the physical' (Power of Parable, 247). Interpreting the parables in anti-Jewish or other ways that dehumanize, whether intentionally or unintentionally, is a first step on this trajectory of human violence. It is incumbent on anyone who wishes to interpret the parables of Jesus to be mindful of this reality. It is now documented that the shooter at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh justified his actions through the misinterpretation of the New Testament. See Aamer Madhani et al., “Pittsburgh Synagogue Rampage Spotlights Rising Anti-Semitism in America,” USA Today, October 28, 2018.

As Christians enter into Holy Week, we need to recognize that anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism are a real part of Christian history—a part that must be faced honestly and confronted.

It is important that we consider the vast differences between the historical and cultural context of the first century and the cultural context of the present day, and what this means for the language we use when speaking about the Bible. For example, when the gospel writers or the Apostle Paul speak of “the Jews” they are not speaking of an entire grouping of people throughout history but specific Jews who rejected what became the Christian perspective. Further, Jesus and Paul themselves were both Jewish, and so it is important to emphasize that disputes with “the Jews” were originally internal disputes over understanding the meaning of the kingdom of God in a Jewish context.

As we reflect on the crucifixion this week we might take occasion to reflect on how the Bible actually emphasizes that the crucifixion is ultimately understood by Christians to have been for all humanity. It was not only the Jewish religious leaders who played a role (notably, not “the Jews” as a whole). Consider that according to the New Testament, this was God’s doing (it was God who “gave his one and only son”, according to John 3:16), Jesus himself had a key role (he predicted his death and went willingly toward it, Mark 10:45; John 18:11), and his followers (who abandoned him), and certainly the Roman rulers who were the only ones with the authority to put Jesus to death. And if Jesus came into the world to save sinners, isn’t everyone responsible then in a way, according to Christian teaching (1 Tim 1:15)? Sadly, as the Christian message was embraced in a Roman context, the tradition developed in such a way as to minimize the Roman role while placing blame on the Jews as a whole. This unfortunate development has been mirrored throughout history with disastrous results for the Jewish people and Christian mistreatment of them.

And with this, we have come a long way from our Good Samaritan. Nevertheless, the parable is a call to us again to have eyes and hearts open to those in need—our neighbors—and to be willing to respond with compassion. And it is important to recognize that this call comes to us from Jesus, from the heart of Judaism, from the heart of God.

SOME RESOURCES FOR FURTHER READING:

For an overview of anti-Semitism, see this short video produced by the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.

See article, "The Crucifixion of Jesus and the Jews," for a brief, scholarly treatment for non-specialists that helps clarify the historical reality about the crucifixion and the way the tradition developed to minimize Roman responsibility and blame the Jews: 

A very helpful and concise overview of the larger issue by a leading New Testament scholar is found here: “Is the New Testament Anti-Jewish?” by Amy-Jill Levine. 

Reflecting on Anti-Judaism in 2018

I was invited by the English and Theatre Department in my college to give a book talk this past week. As I was preparing the talk I was focusing on the great extent to which the New Testament christological hymns reflect a deep engagement with Jewish traditions, especially the Wisdom tradition and the prophetic promises of renewal of God’s people in the new age. I began to realize that I could not speak about the Jewish dimensions of these early hymns without also speaking to the rise of anti-Semitism that has been forcibly brought into our consciousness as a nation, and especially here in Pittsburgh. Below are some of the ways I have reflected on this reality and some of what I included in my talk this week:

In my writing and speaking to date, I generally gloss over the complicated relationship that developed between Christians and Jews in the first century and beyond. I had kind of assumed that, as people of good will in the 21^st century, “we” were beyond anti-Semitism and one did not need to write or speak directly against. Fair-minded and careful reading of ancient Jewish and early Christian writings demonstrates a sensitivity and respect that we all, whether scholars or lay people, should bring to the study of religious texts. But the horrific shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue, less than 3 miles from this location, means that there is still work to do to promote a responsible understanding of the relationship of Christianity and Judaism in antiquity. On top of that, the FBI released a report yesterday detailing a 37% increase in hate crimes against Jews over the last 3 years; hate crimes against Jews were already the highest proportion of religious hate crimes. 

All of this is very disturbing, and in our climate of increasing hate and animosity, people of faith must remind ourselves of the sacredness of all creation—meaning that every person, regardless of background, race, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity—everyone we encounter is, according to Jesus, our neighbor, our brother, our sister, part of our human family. Those of us who believe that need to affirm it; and beyond affirming it, we now must also speak up where we can about these issues. 

Within our view of the human family as people created by God there is no room for racism or anti-Semitism. However, it is a sad fact that in history Christian biblical interpretation has at times played a part in devaluing Judaism. Anti-Judaism, as it is called, is unfortunately common in biblical interpretation, when Christians create a caricature of early Jewish belief and practice, and use that as a negative foil against which to present Jesus as bringing something new and better. It is often unintentional, but even something as simple as characterizing the Christian Old Testament (supposedly representing Judaism) as promoting law, wrath, and judgment—while claiming that the New Testament is a message of love, grace, and forgiveness—is in reality an expression of anti-Judaism. There are three serious problems about such portrayals of early Judaism. First, such over-simplifications are just flat out wrong: the Jewish Scriptures, rightly understood, are full of mercy, forgiveness, and grace; as is Judaism. Christians did not invent those concepts; they are Jewish through and through, as was Jesus. Second, those erroneous views of early Judaism have been used throughout history to justify abuse and mistreatment of Jews. Third, such simplistic views actually implicitly undermine the very teaching of the Scriptures which Christians claim to promote. We must stand against anti-Judaism and caricatures of people of faiths other than our own. 

Yes, we must also acknowledge that Christianity and Judaism are two very different religious traditions. But they share a great deal in common. At the very least, when reading the New Testament, Christians are obligated to be careful to understand the nature of the conflicts within first-century Judaism. It was not simply Jesus the loving Christian against the legalistic, mean-spirited Jews. It is rather Jesus the Jewish teacher engaging with his fellow Jews, wrestling with how to understand the promises of God for their day, and how best to live within the new age that God was initiating. 

The New Testament christological hymns [the subject of my book talk] show us that the earliest followers of Jesus saw Jesus as fully in line with the Jewish expectations that God would fulfill the ancient promises and redeem humanity. God was fulfilling God’s promises, and doing so through Jesus. Whether one accepts that Jesus was God’s agent in fulfilling these promises is, of course, the crux of the matter for Christian belief. But the early hymns show us that Jews and Christians alike can acknowledge the shared vision of renewed humanity that derives from the first century Jewish context and the shared biblical tradition. 

Further, like other Jewish resistance poetry, the New Testament hymns take aim not at Jewish belief. Instead, they take aim at the Roman emperor who had been elevated to divine status that belonged only to the one true God.

With those acknowledgements and cautions in view, I then concluded my talk pointing out the ways in which the New Testament christological hymns engage deeply with Jewish ideas, while also countering Roman imperial claims.

There are many good resources that address issues of anti-Judaism in Christian biblical interpretation, and I hope to engage further with those in future posts. Amy-Jill Levine’s work is a great starting point, both her books and her more popular writing. For now, I wanted to at least share these thoughts on the blog as I continue to reflect on the responses we are obligated to make to these disturbing rise of hate in our days.

Commands of Jesus We Happily Ignore

I guess I have not read Mt 23:1-12 in a long time because when I read it in today’s Lenten gospel reading it really struck me that we Christians are highly selective in what aspects of Jesus’s teaching we follow. In this passage alone are several commands which Christians simply bypass. Jesus says, “Do whatever they [the Pharisees and scribes] teach you and follow it.” And later on he instructs them that they are not to be called “teacher,” “father,” or “instructor.” For my part, I don’t know anyone who takes these instructions at face value. I don’t know of any Christians who make pharisaic teaching a priority or who consciously seek to follow the teachings of the scribes and Pharisees from the first century. And as for not calling anyone father or teacher?

The reason for this is that we (appropriately) interpret the teachings of Jesus in light of their larger contexts: literary, cultural, and historical. In Jesus’s teaching in Mt 23:1-12 his main point is clear and is explicit in v. 12: “The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” And Jesus makes this point, like any good teacher, through memorable statements and illustrations, and, in this case, through hyperbole. We know he doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t call anyone father; his point is that God is the one Father of all humanity, and humans shouldn’t take on titles that obscure that reality. If we were to obey that literal “command” we would actually be missing the point.

So as we read this passage in context, we take it as condemnation of those who teach the right thing but do not embody the accompanying humility; we take it on ourselves that we should follow that particular teaching (the humility part), and view the rest as somehow less important.

This is all very interesting to me as a professor of scripture since it raises all kinds of issues of interpretation. When people say they take the Bible literally, or just read the Bible and do what it says, it is just not so simple. Every reader of scripture must make these kinds of interpretive decisions on nearly every line. This is part of the “fun” of reading the Bible! But it can also be a source of real division when one group interprets a passage one way and another group takes it entirely differently—and then those differing interpretations are used to test whether one is “in” or “out” of “our” group.

The reality is that no one reads the Bible in a vacuum, free of other influences. Alongside the Bible we have a history of interpretation that is part of whatever Christian tradition we find ourselves in. In addition to our tradition, we also have our own reason and our own experience. Taken together, tradition, reason, and experience play very important roles in our interpretation of a sacred text like the Bible. This is as it should be, but sometimes we may forget this and think that what we are “seeing” in the text is the one obvious meaning. An awareness of the interplay of these various influences might at least give us some intellectual and spiritual humility as we engage with the views and interpretations of others who differ from us.

As for the point of this passage in Matthew, we are aided by other references throughout the New Testament to the importance of humility and taking the attitude of a servant. In fact, in one of the earliest examples we have of a hymn in praise of Jesus, it is the humility of Jesus that is the subject of the praise:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
6 who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
7 but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
8 he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross. (Phil 2:5-8)

In view of this emphasis on humility, this Lenten season seems to be a perfect time to exhibit humility about our interpretation of scripture. (And if you disagree with me about that...well, ok.)

Jesus in the Wilderness

“And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness” (Mark 1:12)

Lately I am not into wilderness. I don’t want to be in a place, physical or metaphorical, where I am at the mercy of the elements, where I am unsafe, where my very survival is at issue. I much prefer to be in control of my surroundings, feel safe in the life I have ordered, and have my mind on things higher up on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs than simply staying alive. Therapeutic moral deism—a popular distortion of Christianity which envisions a God whose sole purposes are to improve my life and help me follow clearly demarcated moral guidelines—encourages me, perhaps unintentionally, to avoid the wilderness. But here in the gospels, Jesus is led (driven!) by the Spirit into the wilderness. And here in Lent, if I am to enter into this season of reflection, I am invited to reflect on the reality of wilderness. And I am beginning to think that, in many ways, I am in the wilderness like it or not, so I might as well face it.

The biblical scholar in me is helpful at this point. I can take a step back from my personal feelings about entering the wilderness and ask what wilderness meant to the gospel writers, when they chose to include this detail from the life of Jesus in their narratives. Recognizing the cultural, historical, and literary context of this event from the life of Jesus is a good starting point. Such reflection can provide some guidance for more personal reflections about wilderness.

source: faith.nd.edu

For Jewish writers in the first century, the wilderness could be viewed as a place of individual isolation and struggle, but that was not its only meaning. The theme of “wilderness” also had many other connections, some with deep roots in the Jewish worldview embraced by the New Testament writers. Wilderness was the place where their ancestors had wandered for forty years: a place of communal (rather than individual) purification and testing. It was also a place of a place of divine revelation. Moses is associated with the wilderness, encountering God at the burning bush and receiving the Torah on Mt. Sinai, in addition to leading the Israelites through their wilderness wanderings. All of these aspects of Israelite history suggest the importance of wilderness for the early Jewish worldview. In addition, in the period of the Second Temple, the wilderness was a place where rebel leaders against oppressive regimes had gathered their forces, particularly in the Maccabean era. Finally, the wilderness has associations with the concept of exile: the forced removal of the people of Israel from the land of promise during the era of the monarchy. Though the Bible also recounts a return from exile in the era of king Cyrus, for many Jewish authors in the Second Temple period, the exile continued to define their reality as separated in some way from the covenant blessings of God.

With this rich palate of associations related to the idea of “wilderness,” any serious reader of the New Testament might want to pause to consider what particular connotations may be in mind when a gospel writer explicitly points out that Jesus was led into the wilderness. One might expect divine encounters and divine revelation in a narrative that involves a journey into the wilderness. (For an accessible and helpful look at the significance of the wilderness in the era of the New Testament, see Daniel Smith’s Into the World of the New Testament, especially chapter four).

To me, it seems that the notion of the wilderness in these passages makes a link between Jesus and Moses very strong. Such a connection is supported when we see other places in the gospels where Jesus and Moses are both shown to be a part of God’s working in the world (see John 1:17, for example). The full significance of Jesus can only be appreciated when his advent is seen as part of the long history of God’s working in the world. For the earliest Christians, themselves Jews, the significance of Moses and the Torah cannot be overestimated. Thus, in his being led into the wilderness, Jesus is shown to be a participant in God’s age old plan of redemption of God’s people. And this to me is a vital recognition: for the gospel writers Jesus is not just a radical new initiative on the part of God to redeem humanity. Jesus is part of God’s plans from of old. “Wilderness,” as a theme, is one way of showing that connection to the reader.

This way of reading the wilderness temptation of Jesus does not preclude the idea that Jesus models a personal practice of piety in which one is purified through time alone in the wilderness, even as one faces and strives to resist temptation. Christians have always identified personally with this narrative, finding in it encouragement and hope when in temptation. But it is important to also recall that a personal application of this passage to “my life” is not the whole story. Jesus’s going into the wilderness is a way of the gospel writer saying: “Hey, pay attention. This story I am recounting is not only about a unique individual overcoming temptation; what follows will be rich with divine revelation.” Just as God was revealed in the wilderness in the past, God is being revealed in the gospel in the life of Jesus, albeit in a new way. The gospel writers are inviting us to make the connection that this story (the story of Jesus) is part of that story (the story of God and God’s people). New Testament historian N. T. Wright puts it this way: “Jesus is acting out the great drama of Israel’s exodus from Egypt, Israel’s journey through the wilderness into the promised land” (Mark for Everyone, p. 6).

When I think about this passage, yes it can lead me to think about my own experience of wilderness, my own experience of exile. I can take comfort in knowing that Jesus was in the wilderness as well, and that I am not alone in whatever physical or spiritual wilderness I find myself. Those are good things to consider. But I can also consider the larger idea that the story of Jesus is a part of the ancient story of God’s redemptive work in the world.

The prophet Isaiah’s words are thus a very apt reminder of the rich tapestry of wilderness themes throughout scripture: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord” (Isaiah 40:3). So whether I find myself in a real or metaphorical wilderness, such a place is a fitting one in which to prepare the way of the Lord.

The Parables of Jesus: Ancient Stories with Enduring Meaning

In July I posted about the significance of contemplation and action here at Carlow University. These two dimensions of Christian spirituality and practice are integral to the heritage of the Sisters of Mercy and are also a key feature of Carlow’s new general education curriculum, the Carlow Compass. In contemplation and action courses second semester students are challenged to reflect on an issue from the perspective of a particular academic discipline, and to choose a small but meaningful act of service which they will practice throughout the semester. We are calling it “a small act of mercy.” Students will reflect on this act in conversation with the course readings, in discussion with their classmates, and in their own times of reflection. In January the first round of contemplation and action courses will be offered, and among them will be my course “The Parables of Jesus: Ancient Stories with Enduring Meaning.”

Here is the course description from the syllabus:

This course examines one of the most noteworthy aspects of the teaching style of Jesus: his use of simple stories to engage his listeners and to challenge them to consider new ways of understanding the world and their place in it. Our exploration of the parables of Jesus will consider what we can learn from them both in terms of what they teach and also in terms of how they communicate. Since justice, mercy, and virtue are prominent themes in the parables, this Contemplation and Action course allows ample opportunity for students to reflect on Carlow University’s Mercy heritage with its commitment to service, social responsibility, and ethical reasoning. In addition to course readings, reflection papers, class discussion, and the composition of their own parables, students will also engage in small act of service throughout the semester. These activities will become part of a reflective framework by which they can begin to hone their personal ethic and perspective on social responsibility in light of the Mercy tradition. 

For this course I have selected Amy Jill Levine’s Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi as the primary text. Her analysis of the parables within their first century Jewish context is very illuminating. Those familiar with her work will not be surprised to learn that in this volume she challenges a number of “traditional” readings of the parables, particularly those interpretations that present Judaism in a negative light and Christianity as a refreshing alternative to the stale legalism and hypocrisy of the Pharisees. She shows that in many cases such readings derive from a kind of latent (or blatant) anti-Judaism, and that these readings are not supported by sound exegesis. Instead, she challenges readers to hear the parables as first century Jews would have heard them, and as coming from a first-century Jewish teacher. In this way, we can hear the challenge of each parable anew, and then consider the challenge it may offer contemporary readers. While she does not always succeed in forwarding a new or better reading of every parable, her placing of each in its historical context is commendable and provides excellent background material with which to work. And though this will be my first time teaching this course with this textbook, it seems to me that this volume will be accessible to undergraduate students.

In addition to Levine’s book students will use Louise Schottroff’s volume, The Parables of Jesus, to help them do some further research on some parables of their choosing. In a completely different vein, students will read Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son in which he reflects on his sustained encounter with Rembrandt’s painting of this important scene within the parable. In many ways, his reflections move well beyond the kind of historical and exegetical work we will be doing in class. And I will be interested to see how students engage with his work at the end of the semester.

Kugel on early Jewish biblical interpretation, with help from Jesus and Paul

Since reading his Traditions of the Bible, I have been fascinated by Kugel's articulation of the four assumptions about the Bible made by Second Temple Jewish interpreters. Part of what shook me initially was the extent to which such assumptions were part of the Christian tradition in which I was raised. These assumptions were, to greater or lesser degrees, taken for granted without any critical examination. But what surprised me was that I was reading the Bible through the same lens as the ancients. Yet their assumptions were based on some perceptions about the Bible that did not necessarily hold up for me given the richer and fuller understanding of the nature and origins of Scripture as understood by contemporary theologians. In fact, the uncritical embrace of some of these assumptions has led to some rather unhealthy, even harmful, ways of reading the Bible today. For example, seeing the Bible merely as a handbook or instruction manual for life. While the impulse behind this way of reading can be defended (Christians do indeed believe that God's word is relevant in all times and places, and it has something to say to us today), the extension of that to reading the Bible as a handbook-for-living-today has the potential to set up the well-intentioned reader for some exegetical and hermeneutical disasters. Especially so when one seeks to discern the 5 biblical steps to financial independence or 7 Bible secrets to a happy marriage or the biblical way to eat healthy. Sadly, such an approach not only goes off track but it can end up missing the point of what the Bible actually does have to say about what it means to live a good and whole life in the world today.

So here are the four assumptions Kugel lists (taken from his chapter in Early Judaism: A Comprehensive Overview). These are assumptions that seem to be made by ancient interpreters as they read and interpreted what came to be known as the Hebrew Bible or TaNaK (the Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings).

1. Scriptural texts were basically cryptic; while the text may say A, often what it really means is B.
2. The basic purpose of Scripture was to guide people nowadays; although it talked about the past, it was really aimed at the present.
3. Scripture contained a single, unitary message; it was altogether harmonious in all its details and altogether true. Everything was perfect.
4. All of Scripture was of divine origin: God had caused the ancient sages or historians or psalmists to write what they wrote. Therefore all of it was sacred. (Kugel, "Early Jewish Biblical Interpretation," pp. 151-178 in Early Judaism: A Comprehensive Overview [Collins and Harlow, eds; Eerdmans, 2012], here pp. 165-166)

Once one is attuned to such assumptions, it becomes an engaging exercise to begin to spot when they are at play in the New Testament as people like Jesus and Paul provide their interpretation of the Scriptures of Israel. Two examples:

In Mt 22:23-33 Jesus is described as giving a striking instance of the assumption that the Scriptures do not just describe the works and words of God in the past, but that they can be understood as God's words spoken directly to the reader or hearer. In this instance, the Sadducees sought to paint Jesus into a corner where he must either deny the resurrection or the relevance of the commands of the Torah (their assumption even in coming to him is that the laws of the Torah applied in their day and forever). They brought to him what I imagine was their stock example: seven ill-fated brothers who, in sequence, marry one woman, then die, leaving the next brother to obey the law of Moses and marry the woman. The issue then is, in the resurrection, if indeed there is a resurrection (the Sadduccees denied it), whose wife will she be. The response of Jesus is itself rich with exciting interpretive challenges (in short, no marriage in heaven, "they will be like the angels"...) Jesus went on to address the real point of their question, the reality of the resurrection. He cited Exod 3:6 where God was speaking directly to Moses. And here is where it gets VERY interesting for our purposes of looking at assumptions about Scripture. In citing this verse, Jesus says, "Have you not read what was said to you by God?" Here Jesus explicitly states that what God said to Moses, and what was later written down as part of the book of Exodus, is in reality a word that God spoke directly "to you" the contemporary listener or reader. And thus here are several of Kugel's assumptions, illustrated for us in one passage. God's words in the past have contemporary relevance, and often communicate something more than just the surface meaning.

The second example is from Paul. In 1 Cor 10:1-11 Paul discusses the wilderness wanderings of the Israelites and draws an interesting conclusion: "These things happened to them to serve as an example (Greek: tupos; German: ein Vorbild), and they were written down to instruct us, on whom the ends of the ages have come" (v. 11). Clear as day, the historical account given in Exodus is history, yes, but it is also more than history: it has contemporary relevance as an example. In fact, it was written down "for us." Further, this passage contains the interesting extra-biblical tradition that the rock (from which the Israelites drew water) followed the Israelites around the wilderness. And Paul's interpretation is that this was a spiritual rock, and that that rock was Christ. This illustrates the notion that the meaning of the Bible is below the surface, cryptic, but that it can be discovered with the right reading lens. For Paul this lens was christological, and the Scriptures were now to be read in light of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, as pointing to the redemptive work that God would accomplish through him.

Jesus and Paul shared a set of interpretive assumptions with their fellow Jews of antiquity. First, in speaking and acting among the Israelites of old as recorded in the Scriptures, God was speaking a message to them. Second, this message was relevant for their day and so should be heeded. Third, that message was, to a certain extent, cryptic: it was hidden below the surface until the right teacher with the right tools could bring it to light.

The New Testament thus includes and holds up a way of reading Scripture that was strongly culturally and historically conditioned but one that would become normative for Christians of all times, taking root in and even shaping the reading practices of later times and subsequent cultures. Contemporary readers of Scripture do well to examine these ancient assumptions about reading the Bible, and to consider how they contribute to our own assumptions about reading the Bible.

How did Jesus come to be acclaimed as "LORD"?

Wilhelm Bousset’s influential and groundbreaking book on the origins of Christianity, Kyrios Christos, which was originally published in 1913 and translated into English in 1970, has now been reprinted with a new preface by Larry Hurtado (Emeritus Professor; New Testament Language, Literature & Theology at the University of Edinburgh). Hurtado, whose own major work, Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Early Christianity (Eerdmans, 2003) is in close dialogue with Bousset (though he comes to rather different conclusions), has made his 19-page introduction available here at his blog.

For those new to the question of how and when it came about that Jesus was first called “Lord” and was worshipped alongside the Father by his early followers, Hurtado's introduction provides a fascinating historical perspective. While affirming Bousset’s impulse to set earliest Christianity within its historical context, Hurtado identifies a number of problems with Bousset’s conclusions:

• The problem of positing two theologically and culturally distinct early Christian groupings: “Palestinian-Jewish” and “Hellenistic-Gentile” (14). Even widening that to three divergent groups is problematic since the inter-relationships between early Jewish and Gentile Christian communities were much more complicated than such a framework allows.
• The failure to recognize the appropriate background of the title “Son of Man” (15)
• Bousset’s problematic suggestion that the Aramaic mara natha of 1 Cor 16:22 was later than, and influenced by, the Greek attribution kyrios (15-16)

In addition to the historical critique is the identification of the extent to which Bousset was writing in the context of a German intellectual framework which sought to minimize any connection between Christianity and Judaism. Hurtado cites two recent studies which have documented this troubling aspect of German biblical scholarship of the early 20^th century.

For its concise review of the impact of this volume and its attention to these critical points of ongoing relevance, Hurtado’s preface is well worth reading.