From Judaism to Christianity
Hebrews 11:29—12:2
August 19, 2007: Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Rev. Kathleen Crockford
United Congregational Church of Westerly
United Church of Christ
This summer we’ve been exploring a number of “hot topics” that you have wondered about. Today’s hot topic is one that I’ve really appreciated delving into. The question that one of you posed was this: If Jesus was Jewish, how did we move away from Judaism to Christianity?
This question is a really important one to explore, especially in these days. It seems that we are plagued by religious intolerance and hatred that is born out of ignorance and misunderstandings of the various faiths. This is especially true when it comes to Christians, Jews, and Muslims understanding each other. Some of you may have heard me talk with great appreciation about the book that our church’s book group is reading right now, called The Faith Club: A Muslim, A Christian, A Jew—Three Women Search for Understanding. But today, I want to focus specifically on how we as Christians have forgotten that that leader of our faith, Jesus of Nazareth, was a Jew, and a good one at that.
As we dig deep into this exploration, I am indebted to a New Testament professor and scholar, Dr. Amy-Jill Levine. When I first learned about her, I was really impressed with the fact that Levine, a Jew, teaches New Testament at Vanderbilt Divinity School in Nashville, TN. She describes herself as “a Jewish Yankee feminist (she grew up in the 50s and 60s in Massachusetts) teaching in a southern Christian divinity school.” Levine is the author of a book called The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus. She begins the book by telling a story about growing up in a predominately Catholic neighborhood. She says:
“When I was a child, my ambition was to be pope. I remember watching the funeral of John XXIII and asking my mother, ‘Who was that man?’ I understood very little about him, but I did learn from the television coverage that he lived in Italy, had a very nice white suit and a great hat, and everyone seemed to love him. My mother responded, ‘That’s Pope John XXIII.’ She, like most Jewish parents, was familiar with [his efforts when he was a Cardinal] to save Jews during World War II as well as his convening of Vatican II, the gathering that finally condemned the teaching that all Jews, everywhere, were responsible for the crucifixion of Jesus. Thus she added, ‘He was good for the Jews.’ I immediately decided I would be pope: it meant lots of spaghetti, great accessories, and the job was good for the Jews. ‘I want to be pope,’ I announced to my mother. ‘You can’t,” she replied. ‘You’re not Italian.’” (p. 1)
Levine goes on to tell some other formative stories that shaped her present calling as a teacher who in her teaching is trying to break down the walls of prejudice and misunderstanding between faiths. Obviously she isn’t doing this in the role of pope, but she is reaching far and wide through her writings and speaking engagements in churches and synagogues as a welcome voice in fostering healthy Jewish-Christian dialogue.
What I have come to appreciate about Levine and her message is this: We, as Christians, are willing to acknowledge that Jesus was a Jew. But we have bought into an inaccurate way of understanding the Jewish faith because of the way we think of Jesus reacting to the religious leaders of his day. But as Levine says, “For far too long Jesus has been the wedge that drives Christians and Jews apart.” She suggests that we see him as a bridge between the two faiths, not to give up our faith understandings as Christians and Jews, but to try to understand each other and appreciate each other’s traditions. She also notes that, “[an] understanding of and appreciation for our neighbor’s traditions are not the same thing as agreement with it. Jews and Christians will disagree. [But] Jews will also disagree with other Jews, and Christians with other Christians.” Isn’t that the truth? And yet it is still worth the effort it takes to understand and appreciate one another. And I love this next idea of hers: “The day that Jews and Christians agree on everything is the day the messiah comes, or comes back.” (p. 6)
So, how do we begin to understand Jesus as a bridge and not a wedge to our relationship with our Jewish brothers and sisters?
The first thing we need to do is let go of misguided stereotypes about Jews that have, sadly, been perpetuated in the New Testament and other later Christian writings. When the New Testament was written, several generations after Jesus’ death, the fledging church was growing into a more Gentile, that is, non-Jewish, group. And so the words of Jesus the Jew, who was teaching about Judaism to his fellow Jews, became placed in a book written for an increasingly Gentile audience. Conflict was brewing between the Jews who remained Jewish and the small sect of Jewish Christians. When there are anti-Jewish teachings that surface in the New Testament, they have more to do with the beleaguered feelings of this small group of Jewish Christians trying to survive than of the deficiencies of the Jewish faith. As Levine puts out: “Too often Christian readers [of the Bible] divorce Jesus from Judaism. [Jesus] becomes the only Jew who ever proclaimed love of God and love of neighbor, the only Jew to show compassion to women, the only Jew to ever counsel non-violent resistance.” But if we are good students of the Bible, we know that is not true. All these teachings were and continue to be at the heart of the Jewish faith. Jesus’ teaching emphasized what the prophets of Judaism had preached for generations—love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and care for others, even the poor and marginalized, as you would yourself.
As I preach this sermon, I am trying to imagine what my friend and colleague, Rabbi Adam Morris would think. In fact, to keep me honest, I’m imagining that he is sitting in the pew with us. Rabbi Morris, better known as Rabbi Mo, is the rabbi of a Reform congregation in Denver, Colorado. But he also serves as a contributing writer to Seasons of the Spirit, the Sunday School curriculum we use here and the one that I work with part-time as a freelance editor. Rabbi Mo writes a column, “Ask the Rabbi,” for the Seasons website. Its purpose is to share the historical and religious perspectives about the Jewish aspects of our Christian stories. He also offers his knowledge about Jewish customs and practices and helps us be honest as Christian educators so that we tell our sacred stories in a way that is honest and respectful of the Jewish faith and tradition. I finally had the opportunity last January to meet Rabbi Mo in person. It was great! I came away from that meeting even more convinced that the energy and commitment it takes to understand and love another’s faith in all of its beauty and complexity is well worth the effort. Rabbi Mo must have felt the same because he said this in his newsletter column to his congregation: “Even though I went…as the ‘teacher’ I left a grateful student. As Ben Zoma, (the Talmudic sage from the 2nd century) teaches us in the Pirke Avot (Sayings of the Fathers). ‘Who is wise? One who learns from every person.’”
There is a lot we have to learn from each other. And I believe it starts with a generosity of spirit and desire to see the good in each other’s faith. Normally I don’t think envy is a healthy impulse, but the former bishop of Sweden and dean of Harvard Divinity School, Krister Stendahl, said that to appreciate the beliefs and practices of another, we need to practice “holy envy.” Jesus the Jew shows us that, then and now. Amen.
Copyright © 2007 by Kathleen Crockford
Resource:
The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus by Amy-Jill Levine, HarperSanFrancisco, 2006
www.explorefaith.org/books/levine.html