Defending Jesus

Jesus didn’t ask me to defend him, but sometimes I do anyway. He gets picked on so.

Today’s potshots come from Barry Seidman, who describes himself as a humanist and secularist. In response to recent advances by the Christian Left, Seidman writes that he’s happy the Christian Left is “joining the good fight against Christo-fascists like Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, Tim LaHaye and President Bush.” However,

… the coupling of religion and politics is as dangerous for the left as it is for the right, because absolutism, authoritative supernaturalism and the actual tenets of the Abrahamic religious texts can never be reconciled with democracy and freedom.

In my experience religious liberals tend to respect the principle of separation of church and state, so it’s not clear to me what worries Mr. Seidman. I infer he thinks religious people will always try to impose their doctrines on others and thus cannot be trusted in politics, liberal or not.

Seidman bases much of his opinion on a book by Hector Avalos titled Fighting Words: The Origin of Religious Violence. Avalos is an anthropologist and biblical scholar who teaches at Iowa State University. I have not read this book, but Avalos states his basic thesis in this interview:

In Fighting Words Avalos looks at the role religion has historically played and continues to play in violence in the three main Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity and Islam).

“Most religious violence is the result of real or perceived scarce resources,” he said. “When people believe that there is not enough of something valued, they may fight to acquire it or to maintain it. When religion causes violence, it does so because it has created new scarce resources.”

Fighting Words focuses on four scarce resources that can be created by religious beliefs – inscripturation (sacred scriptures), sacred space, group privilege and salvation. The book shows examples of how each of these can be seen as scarce resources that have precipitated violence in Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

The “scarce resource” of inscripturation can look at religions who say that God communicates to us in only one text (the Koran or Bible for example) and access to God is available only through the one text the religion believes in.

This explanation seems thin to me. I am inclined to think most religious violence occurs when religion (any religion) becomes tribalistic or gets mixed into struggles for political power. As I said I haven’t read the book, and perhaps Avalos makes a good case. But the “Abrahamic religion” thing bothers me. One, we’re back in the same old trap of defining religion as monotheism, when most of the world’s religions are not, in fact, monotheistic. And as I sort of argued here, even within the monotheistic religions the occasional genius or mystic has broken out of the God box — Spinoza comes to mind.

It has long seemed to me that there are two basic ways to approach religion — legalistic (or dogmatic) or mystical. All three of the major monotheistic religions — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — have mystical traditions as well as legalistic ones. It is true that the legalistic and dogmatic approach is far more common. The dominant sects of all monotheisms tend to treat scripture as law and assume that theological and moral questions can be answered by referring scriptural statute.

On the other hand, most other religions (there are exceptions) more often take a mystical approach and treat sacred texts as guides to truth, not truth itself.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama was once asked what he would do if science disproved something written in a sutra. He said that he would revise the sutra. Westerners sometimes don’t know how to take this, but even the Buddha told his followers they shouldn’t accept anything he taught them on faith. Believing the sutras is not the point of the sutras, any more than believing in science is the point of science.

Christianity may be the most dogmatic major religion on the planet. (Judaism is much less dogmatic, and I don’t know enough about Islam to judge.) In most denominations the follower is presented with an elaborate belief system and told he must accept these beliefs absolutely; doubt often is considered weakness. Since the West is overwhelmingly Christian, even the nonreligious assume this must be what religion is all about. But it can be argued that Christianity’s emphasis on literal and rigid belief in doctrines is an aberration among religions and is not even true of all schools of Christianity.

Further, the notion that a Christian must accept the entire Bible without question is not as rigidly a given as Seidman and, apparently, Avalos believe. I have had lovely discussions with liberal Christians who understand the Bible was written by people with limitations and prejudices, and that ideas about God have evolved over time. They can even accept historical evidence that the Gospels were not, in fact, written by Apostles but by second- and third-generation followers who didn’t know Jesus personally. Once you accept that Jesus’s teachings may have been imperfectly recorded in the Gospels, then disregarding the parts that seem out of whack or are of questionable provenance (e.g., most of the Gospel of John) is not “cherry picking,” but critical thinking. (See also the Jesus Seminar.)

Seidman writes,

Even apart from his discussion of religious-created scarcities, Avalos uses a close reading of the Bible to reject the view that Christianity essentially espouses love and peace. He argues that in Romans 12:14 we do not really see an example of Christians loving their enemies at all, though this section is often cited by Christians for this very reason. The section begins, sure enough, “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.” But what most liberal Christians then ignore is the rest of the section, “If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads” (Romans 12:20). Heaping burning coals on their heads? Avalos suggests that read as a whole, the commandment to be nice is a way to build up the potential for violence against an enemy. The nicer one is to one’s enemies, the more they will deserve the violence done to them in the end.

To which a liberal Christian would say that the book of Romans was written by Paul, and reflects Paul’s understanding, which may not have been the way Jesus saw things. Look instead at Matthew 5:43-48, which possibly had a eyewitness account as a source:

Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so? Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

I submit that to love others requires not wishing to heap burning coals on their heads, the authority of St. Paul notwithstanding. Seidman snorts at Christians who “cherry pick,” then does some pretty selective cherry-picking himself.

Whatever Jesus was about got buried pretty quickly under the interpretations of lesser teachers and dogmas that arose in the centuries after his death. The Doctrine of Trinity itself didn’t become the central doctrine of the church until the 4th century; many biblical scholars doubt very much that Jesus saw himself as God. (As a Jew, he might have been appalled at the idea.) And although most Christians don’t question doctrine, there are some who find their true spiritual quest in digging through the doctrinal minutia of the ages to get closer to the authentic Jesus.

Dogmatism and mysticism struggled with each other throughout Christian history. Great Christian mystics like Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross lived in the shadow of the Inquisition. Dogmatism prevailed, but mysticism didn’t die altogether. And in a time when the light of science makes dogma seem absurd to thinking people, some Christians are working to restore the mystical traditions to their former place of respectability. Even though I ducked out of that struggle to take up the Buddhist path instead, I heartily wish them well.

My point here is that secularists like Mr. Seidman should not prejudge the religious and assume we’re all enslaved by ancient superstitions or even believe in God. Clearly, Mr. Seidman has a narrow and limited understanding of what religion is.

Thomas Jefferson said “it does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.” Likewise, Mr. Seidman need not concern himself with the religious views of others who aren’t concerning themselves with the secularist views of Mr. Seidman. Instead of worrying that the Christian Left will contaminate democracy, I recommend that he, like Jefferson, swear “eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.” That’s the enemy of us all, religious or not.