Sometimes
curiosity
just gets the better of me. I picked up a
prominently displayed used book - Jesus: a
Revolutionary Biography by John
Dominic Crossan, Harper Collins 1995. I found
it intriguing, if over 10 years
old.
Crossan
has
spent his professorial life trying to draw out
the historic person Jesus from
accounts by various people who wrote about him
and the remarkable on-going movement
that was his legacy. This little book is a
distillation of that work.
Those
desperate
for Crossan’s conclusions can flip to the Epilogue at the end. It begins
with a short summary of his
conclusions. Here I will more steadily take
the reader through the book’s
chapters.
As
a result
of my earlier read of the Spong book on
Matthew’s gospel (See article, July
2017) I began reading Crossan with the view of
Jesus as the founder of a “new
way” among Jews in synagogues across the first
century Roman Empire. Spong
shows the “gospels” were liturgical materials
for “new way” Jews (Christians) to
use alongside the regular sequence of readings
in a synagogue’s seasons at that
time. Crossan sees the gospels beyond
liturgical material. He uses them as a
way of reaching for a historical Jesus.
Crossan
uses several
sources. He notes that the four gospels are
accounts that are a mixture of events
that they all report plus particular events or
teachings of their own. But on
the common events they differ in the details.
There is evidence that Matthew
and Luke’s gospels drew from Mark’s gospel but
also from a common source
referred to as Q. Other Gospels existed. The
four gospels now in the Bible were
selected by some process among Jesus’
followers. Crossan uses one of the other
gospels
that has since been found – James’ gospel. He
tries to maximize convergence
among these sources to establish likely
events. A further optic applied is
anthropology from the period. For example,
Jesus could not have been an
educated middle class carpenter. Society then
had no middle class – only the poor
and those who did not have to work with their
hands. Carpenters were poor. The
poor were not educated. Finally Crossan
thoughtfully draws from history and historians
of the occupying Roman authorities or their
client Kings – Herod, for example. Crossan
sifts through these accounts to figure out
what most likely happened.
Chapter
1 is
about the birth accounts of Jesus and about
the wider historical context. The
time of Jesus was the time when Augustus
Caesar established peace after 20
years of civil war in the Roman world. After
his death, the Roman senate
declared him a God. Herod the Great was
allowed to rule Judea from 37 BCE to 4
BCE. After Herod’s death there were several
rebellions in various sectors of
Judea led by leaders reminiscent of the Jewish
Kings David and Saul. Evidence
suggests Jesus was born somewhere close to the
end of Herod’s reign.
Crossan
shows
some muddle with facts in the gospel writings
linking the birth of Jesus with
Jewish scriptures and other big events. There
was no census until 10 years after
Herod’s death. People did not go to their town
of birth to register for census.
The birth in Bethlehem likely comes from
associating Jesus with the Davidic
Messiah who is linked in Jewish scripture with
Bethlehem. Later in his gospel
Mark refers to Jesus’ brothers and sisters
living in Nazareth. So much of the
birth stories are reflections of the faithful.
Chaper
2
looks into John the Baptist and Jesus. Crossan
points out parallelism in the gospel
accounts of the birth of Jesus and that of
John the Baptist. He compares and
contrasts the two. Both were historical
figures tied to religious movements in
Judea in rebellious times under Roman rule.
But the accounts clearly aim to
show Jesus as greater than John. There is some
validity. John was killed and his
movement disappeared. Jesus was killed and his
movement went on. In this simple
obvious practical sense Jesus lived on. More
of this in Chapter 6.
Chapter
3
looks at the “kingdom” – a future realm
established by God’s intervention, or a
present kingdom where wisdom emulates a divine
kingdom. John seems to have
lived out the former kingdom model. Crossan
suggests Jesus was a peasant leader
presenting a frighteningly radical kingdom of
the here and now. Jesus’ kingdom
attacks the traditional family of the day with
its power structure and
oppressions. The ideal group for Jesus is a
group that is open, egalitarian and
accessible directly before God.
Next
Crossan
looks at the accounts of who is “blessed” in
the kingdom of Jesus. They vary
somewhat across the gospel accounts. Mark’s
record is blunt – blessed are the
poor. “The poor” here comes from the Greek
word for “destitute.” At Jesus time
“the poor, but not “the destitute” could
survive with hard work. In Mark’s
account, the destitute are blessed. In a time
when a father could cast out a
girl-child to die on a whim, children are
welcomed in Jesus’ open kingdom of
equals before God. And that kingdom is like a
mustard seed. This is less
romantic than supposed. Mustard seeds grow
into a bush that tends to take over
where it’s not wanted – attracting birds that
eat crops. The mustard seed will
be seen differently by farmers and landowners
than by the blessed destitute.
Crossan
looks
at the gospel accounts about feasting. The
guests for a ruler’s banquet give excuses
and the ruler asks that others be brought in
from the streets. Different
gospels name different groups. “Anyone off the
streets” is the likely original
– softened in other gospels. This is a radical
table fellowship. The
anthropology of dining, table fellowship, and
its rules for initiating and
maintaining human relationships is important.
It is hard to imagine Jesus’
model of eating together without any
discriminations and separations whatsoever.
And Jesus lived this out – being accused of
eating with tax collectors, sinners
and whores. Eating together in this open
company attacks the basic honor and
shame values of ancient Mediterranean society
whose members took their value,
worth and identity from the perceptions of
others. This eating together is the
basis of a radical equality. It is a feature
still hoped for in my religious
tradition today. The ancient and universal
peasant dream of a just and equal
world is the kingdom Jesus actually lives out
with his followers in Roman
occupied Jewish society.
Chapter
4
looks at the “body” and healing in Jesus’
kingdom. People can want to be saved
from evil in various forms: anxiety, illness,
inferiority feelings, grief, fear
of death and concern for the social order.
Crossan suggests “body” can be a
single person but can also be a reference to a
body politic. A body can be a
body politic writ small. The healing of a
leper in Mark is explored to show the
significance of Jesus’ miracles and the
importance of medical anthropology.
What we call leprosy is from the bacillus
elephas. But the gospel word refers
to a range of repulsive skin disorders. These
were all ritually unclean, that
is socially inappropriate, rather than
infectious. Sufferers mourned their lost
lives as the unclean in the honor and shame
society. Crossan points to the
difference between disease and illness. Curing
the disease AIDS is desirable,
but how a person with AIDS is treated can deal
with the illness. In the leper
parable the disease may not go. But the
illness could be treated by Jesus who
refused to accept the ritual uncleanliness and
ostracizing. He thereby
challenged others to accept or reject the
leper. This was subversive to
established procedures. Crossan shows that in
the Mark account there is a
common writing pattern: original event, a
“transmission” in which efforts to
make that original conform with the purity
code are added, then a redaction.
This is contrasted with an account in Luke
where the original simply sets out Jesus
as an observant Jew conforming to the purity
code.
An
intriguing
section on demonic possession and medical
condition reveals a need for cross-cultural
care in reading. Trance can be a normal human
condition, but visions are social.
A Portuguese vision will be of the Virgin Mary
in blue rather than of the god Krishna.
Nothing previously unknown will be learned
from the vision.
“Possession”
casts
blame on the patient. There are thoughts on
how a person can be used to
represent a political body. The casting out of
demons called “legion” into
swine that run into water to be drowned
conveniently recalls thoughts of Roman
legions going into the lowliest animal - swine
- and being drowned in the
waters like the Egyptians when they followed
Moses and the tribes of Israel to
drown in the Sea.
Crossan
takes
a look at the raising of the dead – something
that he thinks did not literally
happen. He points out that the peasants who
took back some control over their
lives after interacting with Jesus may well
have felt that they had been dead
and were now alive. But I find this a bit
speculative. The gospels also reinforce
the then customary belief in a general
resurrection and a person coming back to
life may symbolize that belief.
Crossan
moves
to talk about Jesus’ radical itinerancy. He
healed, but did not stay to establish
a healing place with the usual hierarchy of
brokers and clients. The equal
sharing of gifts cannot be in one place rather
than any other or it undermines
the radical egalitarianism of the kingdom. So
there is a radical itinerancy –
Jesus is always moving on.
Chapter
5, No
Staff, No Sandals, No Knapsack,
explores the movement Jesus created by way of
instructions given the disciples
and reported in the various sources. Through
the challenge to the honor and
shame culture, the peasant Jesus trod the fine
line between covert and overt
resistance. His theory and practice of eating
and healing was extended to
others as empowerment by a shared egalitarian
spiritual healing and material
eating. Reference to twelve apostles seems
intended to indicate a new Israel in
miniature. The sending of followers in pairs
was likely male with female, as if
with a wife.
Crossan
suggests
the accounts in the gospels reveal a shift
from somewhat successful
visiting of rural houses to less successful
visits to towns. He also suggests there
is a shift from giving food to followers, to
eating at the household visited,
to wages, and that something was lost in the
move from the open eating together
– the move away from that egalitarian sharing.
Jesus’
“Kingdom
of God” was a way of life to be entered with
certain guidelines. The
guidelines began as no money, no bag, no
sandals, no staff. The guidelines
shifted to take nothing except a staff, but to
wear sandals and not put on two
tunics. They were to accept nothing but bread
before the night’s lodging.
Crossan
reminds
us of the contemporary Greek tradition of
cynics who sought happiness through
freedom from emotions and religious controls
and any form of authority or
public opinion. The cynics agree with Jesus on
having “no sandals” and “no
gossip” but disagree on taking a “wallet”
(better “knapsack”) and “staff.” It
is not certain whether Jesus knew anything
about cynics, but they too were
life-style preachers among ordinary people by
practical demonstration.
Chapter
6, The
Dogs Beneath the Cross, explores the
death and resurrection stories of Jesus.
Crucifixion was a deterrent, a cruel,
public and humiliating death mainly for
peasants. Bodies generally were left to
the scavenging dogs and birds – there was
nothing left to bury. The gospels
link Jesus’ crucifixion with Passover –
something Spong regards as a construct
to situate the start of the church, the new
Israel, into a synagogue calendar
for the “new way” people with the start of the
Jewish nation. Crossan
acknowledges uncertainty of the time of
crucifixion as Passover, but goes along
with the gospel narrative. Jesus was crucified
by the Roman authorities in
Jerusalem. What provoked that crucifixion?
Crossan
shows
the Palm Sunday procession into Jerusalem and
the Last Supper likely never
happened. And he argues that something around
a temple “cleansing”, that the
accounts show was more of symbolic temple
destruction, likely happened. Given
the tinderbox situation for the Romans around
the Jewish temple and major Passover
festival, any event involving the temple would
have been enough for the soldiers
to move in and arrest Jesus. Next, Crossan
uncovers history that shows Pilate
to be an ordinary second rank governor who was
dismissed for excessive cruelty
or brutality. From this Crossan finds the
gospel records of a just and fair
Pilate and the offer of release of Jesus or
Barabbas to be unhistorical.
Crossan shows that Barabbas was a rebel bandit
– a freedom fighter of that
period – and he argues that the gospel is
pointing out that “Jerusalem” chose in
its subsequent political choice an armed
bandit approach rather than an unarmed
savior.
Crossan
argues
that much of the gospel writing is by people
who knew nothing about the
death of Jesus. They were scholars and they
attached prophecy to build a
history from the fact of a crucifixion,
finally making a narrative. This fits
with the Spong thesis I alluded to that the
gospels were liturgical materials
created for use in the 1st century
synagogues by the “new way”
followers of Jesus who attended.
Crossan
goes
on to show how the awful reality of Jesus’
body left for the dogs became
sublimated in the gospel narratives by acts of
cleansing and proper burial that
could not have happened in the real
circumstances. If you had political
connections,
you were not crucified in the first place. In
the gospel narrative, Joseph of
Arimathia petitioned the authorities that
crucified Jesus for the body for
burial. But how was he on both Jesus’ and the
authorities’ side at the same
time? The gospels all have minor variations so
that the reality of crucifixion
with humiliating death and no burial ends up
as burial with spices, in a rock
solid tomb and by friends.
In
How many
Years was Easter Sunday, his
Chapter 6, Crossan argues that the continuing
experience of the Kingdom of God,
beginning with Jesus’ followers in lower
Galilee, that grew and developed
across time and space gave the Easter stories.
That experience of the Kingdom grew
after Jesus’ death. Jewish historian Josephus
gives an account of the growth of
the movement, but so does the less sympathetic
Roman, Cornelius Tacitus, who
speaks of Christians in Rome at the time of
Emperor Nero, 64 C.E.
Crossan
thinks
that his followers felt as if Jesus were still
alive and with them, as
the Gospel of Thomas implies by its title “the
Living Jesus.” He lived on in a
different way. Crossan thinks that the
resurrection notion fed into the mix
through Paul, a Pharisee, who believed that
the resurrection of Jesus was the
beginning of the general resurrection expected
at the time. Crossan suggests
Paul was in a trance and notes that Paul’s
understanding of the “Easter Sunday”
experience is only one among several, rather
than normative.
There
are
internal political issues embedded in Paul’s
(1 Corinthians 15) account telling
to whom Jesus appeared – first to Peter, then
to the 12, then to 500, then to
James and finally to Paul - Paul who adds he
is an “apostle.” Luke’s Acts of
the Apostles talks of Peter addressing a crowd
but there is no mention of Paul
when two apostles are added to their then
number by lot. And Luke describes as
a vision the experience that Paul himself
describes as a revelation. The
revelations of Jesus after his death are to
leaders (Peter), groups (the
Apostles) and the community at large - setting
out a hierarchy. They are more
about the development of leadership in the
new-way movement as are the
so-called nature miracles in which Jesus
appears. They are more concerned with
who is designated a leader. Appearance
of
Jesus confers power!
The
Emmaus
road story in Luke (24) begins with two
followers in a talk with a stranger about
scripture and no particular one of them is
given an appearance. This leads to the
stranger’s breaking and blessing bread – then
his recognition as Jesus. These two
go to meet “the eleven and their companions”
who name an appearance specifically
to Peter. But this is followed by Jesus’
appearing to that whole group and his eating
fish – giving “proof” he was real. It ends
with scripture, a mandate, a
blessing and Jesus’ departure to heaven. Here
the apostolic mandate is given to
all of them and they all witness the ascension
and, as Crossan notes, there
most likely were women among them!
Interestingly, Luke begins his “Acts”
saying Jesus talked to and
mandated only the apostles whom he had chosen
who are told to wait in Jerusalem
for the Spirit. In Acts there are just 12
named apostles, all male, a leader,
Peter, women including Mary, and Jesus’
brothers rather than a large community
of followers.
The
stories
of the distribution of loaves and fishes in
Mark 6 and John 6, with a type of repeat
in Mark 8, are followed by nature miracles in
which an appearance of Jesus
occurs. They involve “took, blessed, broke and
gave” with bread and fish.
Crossan treats all these as a particular group
of writings.
In
the loaves
and fishes on the mountainside story
everything is mediated only through the
disciples – the leadership group. Yet it is
the open egalitarian table that has
become a ritualized meal of bread and fish -
or that became the ritualized
bread and wine meal. Crossan points out that
this was the egalitarian table of
Jesus’ life that gave rise to the fish or wine
Eucharist rather than a ritual
Last Supper. At this egalitarian table Jesus
acts all the roles – including the
slave’s job of serving everyone. By comparison
with the more or less
contemporary Essene ritual, Crossan shows this
Christian ritual is distinctive in
Jesus’ role and significantly so.
John’s
gospel
account of an appearance of Jesus while the
disciples are fishing (21 9-17)
puts Peter in charge of the disciples and the
entire flock. John 21 2-8 is an
account of an appearance to disciples in which
Peter and the “disciple that
loved Jesus” are both involved but Peter gets
to Jesus first. Mark 4 and 6 are
accounts of Jesus’ calming of the waters and
an appearance walking on the sea. In
both stories Mark makes a point ot the lack of
understanding of the disciples.
The stories indicate that Jesus is everything
to their work. Marks indicates the
leading role of Peter.
The
story of
the race to the empty tomb, John 20, is also
about leadership issues within the
early Christian community. Here the disciple
whom Jesus loves wins the race ahead
of Peter, Mary Magdelena and Thomas. But in
Matthew 23, it is the women who are
the first to see Jesus and are told to tell
the “brothers” - and so on.
Crossan’s point is that these accounts have
little to do with the origins of
the Christian faith and everything to do with
leadership rivals.
Yet
the
supreme example of the faith comes in Mark 14
when an unnamed woman anoints
Jesus’ feet with ointment for his impending
death and burial. The disciples
have never, according to Mark, understood or
accepted Jesus’ approaching crucifixion.
But the woman had faith before it happened.
For Mark, she is the supreme
example.
The
book’s Epilogue:
From Jesus to Christ
summarizes Crossan’s conclusions so far and
adds a challenge about the history
of Jesus and the concept of Christ. Jesus was
a visitor to hamlets in Lower Galilee,
talking of a Kingdom of God. He healed a
possessed
person. Instead of eating with the head
of
the hamlet as custom required he ate at a
woman’s house. Instead of staying and
making this hamlet a center for healing, he
left the next morning. And the kingdom
he spoke of was not just for the poor –
themselves – but the destitute.
Jesus
hadn’t
always seen it that way. He was baptized by
John who expected an imminent
apocalyptic God. John was executed. Jesus
found his voice. His ecstatic vision
and social program were building society up
from the bottom with religious and
economic egalitarianism and free healing in
peasant homes. The free compassion
and open table and his mobility challenged the
norms of honor and shame, and
patron and client. They challenged established
hierarchies and discriminations -
like the purity regulations. Distinctions:
gentile -- Jew; female – male; free
– slave; rich – poor; were ignored in practice
and hardly discussed in theory.
What
Jesus
said and did challenged. It seems likely that
when he saw the magnificence of
the Jerusalem Temple, maybe for the first
time, he reacted by symbolically
destroying it in favor of his unbrokered open
egalitarian Kingdom of God. If
this happened around the feast of the
Passover, it would doubtless have led to
his brutal disposal by the Roman authorities.
But the continuation of his
movement was not expected.
Jesus
was a
kind of peasant Jewish “cynic” of those times.
He announced the unmediated or
brokerless kingdom of God. He did so in the
Greco-Roman world of armed power
and imperial ambition, but also in the world
of a richly diverse period within
Judaism. Within 200 years both Christianity
and this Judaism were transformed
into very different organized bodies. Crossan
muses on whether the historical
Jesus matters. He suggests Christian belief
contains three layers: an act of
faith, in a historical Jesus, as the
manifestation of God. But there were
various views of Jesus. Crossan suggests that
the dialectic between various
Jesuses and Christs is at the heart of
tradition and canon as indeed it has
been in practice and likely always will be.
Finally,
Crossan
tells us that after his conversion, Emperor
Constantine convened the
Christian Bishops to meet at Nicaea to iron
out theological disagreements in
312 C.E. The imperial convocation raised
eyebrows. A Christian Eusebius writes
not about Jesus, but about this convocation in
his biography of
Constantine!
A meal and the kingdom come
together, but the participants are all male
bishops who recline with the emperor
and are served by others. This is peasant
Jesus grasped by imperial faith.
Still surely we should question the swift jump
from open table meal to bishops’
banquet with the emperor? “Is it too late to
do some cost accounting of the
significance of this shift in faith
tradition?” questions Crossan.