Beyond the
gospels the central and dominant figure in the New Testament is, arguably, Paul
(nee Saul of Tarsus). Before his conversion Saul had studied the Scriptures
under the best of teachers. He was convinced that to be faithful he should
commit violence in God’s name. He felt certain that for
the survival of Judaism this Christian heresy must be rooted out.
“After his
encounter with Christ, and his experience of healing and enemy love from Jesus’
disciples (Acts 9:11-18), Paul needed to completely reassess how to understand
the same Scriptures he had read previously in such a toxic and violent way. The
change produced a radically different understanding of God’s will, and a
radically different way of interpreting those same Scriptures.”[1]
NOTE: Nothing in the Scriptures changed! It was
only Paul’s way of reading the Scriptures that changed! Nothing is more central
to my Lenten Pilgrimage than this distinction!
I would say
virtually every person of faith at some point along the journey of life comes
face-to-face with the possibility that our understanding does not mesh with the
reality presented in the sacred writ. Not every person has the strength and
integrity to confess, “I was wrong.”
Martin Luther
had such a confrontation with his own faith while he was reading the Epistle to
the Romans. It was during the reading of that same epistle that I had my first
conscious realization that what I had been taught was not consistent with what
I was reading.
It’s a
terrifying realization. But sometimes integrity demands that we go a different
way.
As Derek Flood
points out, for Paul, of utmost significance may be not so much in what he says
as in what he doesn’t say. It is revealing to note how he deals with violent
passages in the Old Testament—texts that call for killing Gentiles.
In Romans 15:8-12,
for example, Paul quotes several Scriptures to make his point that Gentiles “may
glorify God for his mercy” because of the gospel. Note what he doesn’t include in
those Scriptures:
(NRSV)
For I tell you that Christ became a servant to the circumcised to show God’s
truthfulness, in order to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, 9 and
in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written,
“Thou didst make my enemies turn their backs to me, and those who
hated me I destroyed. They cried for help, but there was none to save, they cried to the Lord, but he did not answer ...
For this I will extol thee, O Lord,
among the nations[2], and
sing praises to thy name.” (Quoting Psalm 18:40-49) Again, it says, “Praise his
people, O you nations; for he avenges the blood of his servants,
and takes vengeance on his adversaries, and makes expiation for the land of his people.”
(Quoting Deuteronomy 32:43)
Within Paul’s
change of Scriptural understanding is his re-contextualizing of these passages;
instead of focusing on violence against Gentiles he declares God’s mercy in
Christ for Gentiles. Not only does this represent a reinterpretation of the
relationship of faith to violence, it constitutes a major redefinition of how
salvation is understood. Instead of meaning God’s deliverance of Israel from its
political and military enemies, Paul now understands salvation to mean the
restoration of all people in Christ, including those same “enemy” Gentiles.[3]
Now, instead
of excluding Gentiles, Paul embraces them within God’s mercy; indeed, he is
singularly committed to taking that message of God’s mercy to them. Now,
instead of using violence to purify the world from them, he is exposing himself
to violence in order to include them. Such is the nature of radical commitment
to the gospel—not the exposure to violence, per se, but the radical shift from
rabidly narrow exclusion, even violent elimination, to universal, merciful
embrace. The violence is the byproduct of resistance to change.
Note again,
however, that Paul’s personal shift did not indicate in any way a shift in
Scripture, itself. Indeed, the precedent had been set at least as early as
Isaiah’s metaphor of Israel as a “light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6). Paul
could easily have used these more pastoral texts from the Hebrew Scriptures.
Perhaps he was being intentional in using and reinterpreting passages that
previously had been used to justify violence.
In the same
spirit of Jesus’ teaching, “You have heard… but I tell you…” Paul is moving
faith to the next level, and it is a move for which he paid a high price.
I suspect that
Paul sensed the futility of trying to move his Jewish community to this new
understanding and chose, instead, to align himself with the new movement.
Cultural and ethnic exclusivism is nowhere as strongly rooted as in the
sanctions of religion, and most especially within the ranks of fundamentalist
expressions of religion. And Paul should know. He was a Pharisee.
And so, where
does all this bring me in my Lenten wandering through the wilderness of my own
temptation? I am torn between the desire to lash out at (for example) terrorist
extremists to who are inflicting blasphemous atrocities on other humans in the
name of God, and the knowledge that violence breeds violence and does not bring
lasting peace. But most of all, I am conflicted over my growing awareness of
the value and effectiveness of non-violent confrontations and my knowledge that
those who practice it frequently end up being crucified.
That’s how I
see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.
Together
in the Walk,
Jim
[1] Derek Flood, Disarming
Scriptures: Cherry-Picking Liberals, Violence Loving Conservatives and Why We
all Need to Learn to Read the Bible Like Jesus Did (San Francisco: Metanoia
Books, 2014), Kindle edition, Location 781
[2] The word also is sometimes
translated “Gentiles,” and “heathen”.
[3] Derek Flood, op. cit.,
Location 797.
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