The Little Red Blog

Sunday Sermon: "Ain't No Grave"

Ain't No Grave (Gonna hold my body down)

Oh, shame is a prison as cruel as a grave
Shame is a robber and he's come to take my name
Oh, love is my redeemer
Lifting me up from the ground
Love is the power when my freedom song is found

There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
When I hear that trumpet sound
I'm gonna rise up outta the ground
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
Oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh

Oh, fear is a liar with a smooth and velvet tongue
Fear is a tyrant
He's always telling me to run
Oh, love is a resurrection and love is a trumpet sound
Love is my weapon
I'm gonna take my giants down

There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
And when I hear that trumpet sound
I'm gonna rise up outta the ground
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down

Oh, there was a battle
A war between death and life
And there on a tree
The Lamb of God was crucified
And He went on down to hell
He took back every key
He rose up as a lion and He set all captives free

There ain't no grave
Could hold His body down
There ain't no grave
Could hold His body down
When He heard the trumpet sound
He rose up outta the ground
There ain't no grave
Could hold His body down
There ain't no grave
Could hold His body down

There ain't no grave
Could hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Could hold my body down

Oh, if you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
Gonna sing about it, yeah
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
I'm gonna meet Jesus
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
Oh, if you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too
If you walked out of the grave, I'm walking too

There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
And when I hear that trumpet sound
I'm gonna rise up outta the ground
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down
There ain't no grave
Gonna hold my body down

----------------------------------------------

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Jonathan David Helser / Melissa Helser / Molly Skaggs

Ain’t No Grave lyrics © Bethel Music Publishing, BMG Rights Management

Ain't No Grave (LIVE) - Bethel Music & Molly Skaggs | VICTORY (youtube.com)

Johnny Cash: Ain't No Grave (youtube.com)

Saturday: Crushed by the Wheel

"Purity of heart is to will one thing." (Soren Kierkegaard)

"You are worried and distracted by many things. But only one thing is necessary." (Luke 10:41-42)

Albert Schweitzer was, and is, famous for many things, but it comes as a surprise to most people to learn that he was also a prominent Biblical scholar and a pivotal figure in what was called “the quest of the historical Jesus” (a phrase which served as the title for one of Schweitzer’s books). Schweitzer’s final verdict on that quest was not encouraging; he concluded that those seeking the historical Jesus were gazing into the well of two thousand years of Christian history, seeing their own image reflected back to them, and mistaking it for the image of Jesus. ¹ In Schweitzer’s own words:

The Jesus of Nazareth who came forward publicly as the Messiah—the Jesus who preached the ethic of the kingdom of God, who founded the kingdom of heaven upon earth and died to give his work its final consecration—never existed. He is a figure designed by rationalism, endowed with life by liberalism, and clothed by modern theology in a historical garb. This image has now fallen to pieces.

Yet Schweitzer himself could not resist the temptation to gaze into the well of history and to report back what he saw. Schweitzer’s Jesus was neither the incarnate Son of God nor a meek and mild moralist; he was a radical 1^st-century Jew seized by an eschatological vision which he pursued single-mindedly and with an apocalyptic fervor. This Jesus’ intention was to force God’s hand by declaring the imminent arrival of God’s kingdom, and to bring history to its climax by sheer force of will. Others have advanced this same thesis, but I don’t think anyone has ever expressed it as well or as powerfully as Schweitzer:

Jesus lays hold of the wheel of the world to set it moving on that last revolution which is to bring ordinary history to a close. The wheel refuses to turn, and Jesus throws himself on it. Then it does turn, and it crushes him. The wheel rolls onward, and the mangled body of the one immeasurably great Man, who was strong enough to think of Himself as the spiritual ruler of mankind and to bend history to his purpose, is hanging upon it still. That is His victory and His reign.

As was the case with so many who seemed to debunk traditional Christian beliefs about Jesus, Schweitzer’s insistence on Jesus’ mortality and fallibility did not keep him from seeing Jesus as someone unique, a manifestation of, or a vehicle for, some mysterious divine spirit that even now can illuminate all things: 

Now, He comes to us as One unknown, as of old, by the lakeside, when He came to men who knew him not. He speaks to us the same words, ‘Follow thou me,’ and sets us to the task which He is to fulfill for our time. He commands. And to those who obey Him, whether they be wise or simple, He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in His fellowship; and, as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience who He is.

He does not, of course, speak to everyone; nor does everyone obey his commands, even if they can hear them. Many are called, perhaps, but few are chosen. The philosopher Eric Voegelin, among others, emphatically insisted that “Following the doctrine of [Jesus’] Sermon on the Mount to the letter would inevitably entail social and economic disaster and probably lead to an early death. Taken literally, the counsels of Jesus’ sermon would be suicidal.”

Such practical advice aside, there are still some for whom Jesus’ words and example are compelling, and who find it impossible to resist his summons. Atheist that I am, why should I begrudge them that?   

--------------------------------------------

 Albert Schweitzer - Wikipedia

¹ The "face at the bottom of the well" metaphor was coined by George Tyrell, but it concisely expresses Schweitzer's conclusions.

Bonus Track: The Byrds - This Wheel's On Fire (Audio) (youtube.com)

A Plan that Failed

“Jesus lay in the tomb over the Sabbath. He would not regain consciousness for many hours, and in the meantime the spices and linen bandages provided the best dressing for his injuries.” (Hugh Schonfield, The Passover Plot)

Hugh Schonfield’s ‘The Passover Plot’ made a splash when it was published in 1965; its reputation has not fared well over the ensuing decades. Schonfield speculated that Jesus, convinced of his messianic destiny, cleverly manipulated his enemies and the authorities and somehow masterminded his own crucifixion and apparent death. The “plot” twist was that Jesus arranged in advance to be given a powerful sedating potion while on the cross ("I thirst"), the effect of which would simulate death; when it wore off (so the scheme went), the revived Jesus would declare that he had risen from the dead. In Schonfield’s narrative, all went according to plan until a Roman centurion, wanting to be sure Jesus was dead, thrust a sword into Jesus’ side—the fatal blow, unexpected, from which the resuscitated Jesus would not recover. Joseph of Arimathea played his part faithfully, but, alas, all the messiah's angels and all the messiah's men could not put the messiah together again. 

Needless to say, scholars everywhere lambasted Schonfield’s far-fetched theory, preferring instead the sober, much more plausible claim that the dead Jesus, after spending some time harrowing Hell, was spirited back to life in new and improved form—and just in time for Easter! Plausibility, like just about everything else, is in the eye of the beholder, which is not to say that I agree with Schonfield's theory, only that I have yet to figure out how "Jesus rose from the dead" can possibly be considered the most likely explanation of the gospel stories.  

That said, here is Schonfield's assessment: 

Of set purpose, Jesus embarked on a program calculated to what he believed the Scriptural prophecies demanded of the Messiah. He was obsessed with this necessity. Its requirements shaped his every move and engaged his constant vigilance. As he understood it, the greatest issues for humanity depended on his success. It was a singular, fantastic, and heroic enterprise, though in the strange apocalyptic milieu of the time perfectly comprehensible. It called for intense messianic faith, acute perceptiveness, an iron will, and a very high order of intelligence. ¹

Jerusalem waited breathlessly on the eve of this portentous Passover, in hope, in doubt, and in fear.

The destined road for Jesus led to torture at Jerusalem on a Roman cross, to be followed by resurrection. But these things had to come about in the manner predicted by the Scriptures, and after preliminaries entailing the most careful scheming and plotting to produce them. Moves and situations had to be anticipated, rulers and associates had to perform their functions without realizing that they were being used. A conspiracy had to be organized of which the victim himself was the deliberate chief instigator. It was a nightmarish conception and undertaking, the outcome of the frightening logic of a sick mind, or of a genius.

And it worked out. ² The Messianic hope which Jesus espoused and in a unique manner personified has not yet exhibited its full potentialities; he is still the leader, worthy to be followed, not of a lost cause but of one ever demanding fuller realization. He has not been forgotten; he is continually with us, pestering us and challenging us.

Despite viewing Jesus as a master manipulator (and a dissimulator, and a charlatan) Schonfield nonetheless declared the man from Nazareth to be the model for us all:

The Mind that was in the Messiah can also be in us, stimulating us to accomplish what others declare impossible. The victory for which Jesus relentlessly schemed and strove will be won at last. There will be peace throughout the earth. ³

I can hardly wait.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The Passover Plot - Wikipedia

¹ Forgive me, but I can’t help noticing that the qualities Schonfield attributes to Jesus could apply just as easily to, well, Lenin, among others.

² Sort of. Let us not lose sight of Alfred Loisy's famous remark, “Jesus foretold the kingdom, and it was the Church that came." 

³ Eventually. For now, violent conflict continues to have the upper hand. See this helpful list of current wars, uprisings, and protracted unpleasantness:

List of ongoing armed conflicts - Wikipedia

Sunday Sermon: "Easter"

Easter (by Patti Smith)

Easter Sunday, we were walking
Easter Sunday, we were talking
Isabel, my little one, take my hand
Time has come

Isabella, all is glowing
Isabella, all is knowing
And my heart, Isabella
And my head, Isabella

Frederick and Vitalie
Savior dwells inside of thee
Oh, the path leads to the sun
Brother, sister, time has come

Isabella, all is glowing
Isabella, all is knowing
Isabella, we are dying
Isabella, we are rising

I am the spring, the holy ground
The endless seed of mystery
The thorn, the veil, the face of grace
Brazen image, the thief of sleep

The ambassador of dreams, Prince of peace
I am the sword, the wound, the stain
Scorned, transfigured child of Cain
I rend, I end, I return

Again, I am the salt, the bitter laugh
I am the gas in a womb of light, the evening star
The ball of sight that leads that sheds the tears of Christ
Dying and drying as I rise tonight
(Isabella, we are rising)

Isabella, we are rising
Isabella, we are rising
Isabella, we are rising
Isabella, we are rising

Isabella, we are rising
Isabella, we are rising
Isabella, we are rising
Isabella, we are rising

Isabella, we are rising
Isabella, we are

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Patti Smith / Ivan Kral / Jay Dee Daugherty / Leonard J Kaye

Easter lyrics © Bohemia Music, Druse Music Inc

Easter - YouTube

Arthur Rimbaud

Looking for Jesus in All the Wrong Places

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. So she came running to Simon Peter and the other apostle, the one whom Jesus loved, and said, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!’” (John 20:1—2)

“The historical location of Arimathea is uncertain, although it has been identified with several towns. Though it was "a town of Judea" according to Luke 23:51, it is not otherwise documented.” (Wikipedia)

Outside of Christian scriptures, no trace today remains of either Arimathea or of any “Joseph” associated with it. Assuming they ever existed, history—documented history, that is—dropped them as soon as it was done with them, which is to say, as soon as they had served their purpose. Is it possible that Arimathea, along with its most famous citizen, ascended like Jesus to heaven?

Like that of the notorious miscreant Barabbas, Joseph of Arimathea’s presence in Jesus’ story is confirmed by all four canonical gospels. Unmentioned prior to Jesus’ death on the cross, and never clearly identified as to his connection to the deceased, Joseph boldly approached Pilate for permission to give Jesus a proper burial. Pilate consented; Joseph and his servants (he was a wealthy man) then saw to it that Jesus’ corpse was respectfully wrapped in linen and covered with spices and ointments (which would, as it turned out, prove unnecessary). The tomb in which Jesus’ body was placed (according to Matthew’s account) was Joseph’s own; in any case, it was close enough to Calvary for the body to be moved there quickly. The entire process was rushed because the Sabbath was drawing near, and because of the unsettling presence of Roman soldiers; the ritual would have to be completed after the Sabbath.¹

There is no reason to question either the existence of Joseph of Arimathea or the authenticity of his reported actions, which were entirely plausible even if, under the circumstances, unexpected. There is, however, cause to question why Joseph disappeared from the narrative quite so quickly when there was ample reason for him to have lingered at least a bit longer; because it came to pass (as they say) that less than forty-eight hours after Joseph had sealed Jesus up inside a tomb, that tomb was discovered to be empty, and Jesus’ body was nowhere to be found.

Now, I am no Sherlock Holmes, nor even an Inspector Clouseau, but it seems to me that, if a dead and buried body were to go missing, I would begin my investigation by questioning the last person known to have been in possession of said body. In the four canonical gospels, however, not a single person does this; not a single person even suggests doing it. No one says, at any point, “Someone go fetch Joseph of Arimathea—perhaps he moved Jesus’ body and reburied him elsewhere.” When rumors circulated (according to Matthew) that the disciples had stolen the corpse for some sort of Weekend at Bernie’s escapade, no one said (or was recorded as having said), “Bring Joseph of Arimathea in for questioning. He took custody of the body, so he can tell us what happened to it.”

What if, miraculously, Jesus had survived the crucifixion? Unlikely, to be sure, but not impossible. Under the circumstances, it would have been sensible for someone to have inquired of Joseph of Arimathea: “Hey, are you sure Jesus was dead when you put him in the tomb? Because he’s not there now, and people are kind of freaking out about it.”

I am not necessarily questioning Jesus’ resurrection, but I am definitely questioning the reliability of the gospel accounts which, having introduced Joseph of Arimathea at a pivotal point in the narrative, disposed of him abruptly, despite his having been the best possible source of information about Jesus’ whereabouts. No one was better positioned than Joseph to confirm or to deny the extraordinary claims that (some of) Jesus’ disciples were making.   

Maybe Pilate should have insisted that Joseph post bond before taking Jesus’ body. “Listen to me,” Pilate could have said; “if anything happens to this body, if it mysteriously vanishes or if it’s stolen or if it turns up somewhere it shouldn’t be, well, you’ll forfeit the money you’ve put up, and then we’ll have yet another corpse on our hands, won’t we, Joseph?”  This would have motivated Joseph to keep better track of the dead man entrusted to him.   

Far be it from me to suggest that a major world religion, one which has endured now for two millennia, began with a flimsy and unsupported premise. The premise—that Jesus Christ had been raised, by God, from the dead—persuaded enough people to get the ball of Christianity rolling; and once it started rolling, it gathered speed and rolled over everything in its path. It’s just that I can’t help imagining Joseph of Arimathea standing there watching Christianity gain momentum, waving his arms, and shouting, “Guys! Guys, I thought you knew—I moved the body! You were looking for Jesus in the wrong place!”

My guess is he would have been ignored. As the saying goes, “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” ² When it comes to the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, in the absence of documentation, and lacking any testimony from Joseph of Arimathea, legend will just have to do.

______________________________________

Joseph of Arimathea - Wikipedia

¹ The burial might also have been hurried by the fact that (in Matthew’s account) darkness had come over the land at the very moment of Jesus’ death, followed by an earthquake, followed by a host of dead people getting up out of their graves and wandering the streets of Jerusalem.   

² From “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance”.

When Spellcheck Fails

 

Give Us Barabbas or Give Us Death!

“Now it was the custom at the Feast [of Passover] to release a prisoner whom the people demanded.” (Mark 15:6)

“The custom of releasing prisoners in Jerusalem at Passover is known to theologians as the Paschal Pardon, but this custom (whether at Passover or any other time) is not recorded in any historical document other than the gospels, leading some scholars to question its historicity and make further claims that such a custom was a mere narrative invention of the Bible's writers.” (Wikipedia)

When it comes to Jesus’ last day on earth, all four canonical gospels tell essentially the same story (albeit with certain idiosyncratic variations): Jesus is arrested, questioned by the Sanhedrin, and sent for judgment to Pilate, the Roman governor. Pilate, having interrogated Jesus and having found no guilt in him, invoked the supposed ‘custom’ of releasing a prisoner at Passover as a gesture of mercy. He hoped thereby to release Jesus, but the hastily assembled crowd clamored insistently for the release of a “notorious criminal” named Barabbas, who enters and exits the narrative faster than you can say, “Pilate did what? Barabbas who?”

It defies credulity to claim that a Roman procurator such as Pontius Pilate would have allowed the arbitrary whim of a mob—a mob likely paid off and stirred up by the local authorities—to force his hand. Nothing in the gospels’ accounts of Jesus’ trial before Pilate rings true, but the single most risible detail is Pilate’s reluctant decision to release Barabbas, whom Mark described as being “in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the [recent] uprising.” Luke’s account has the crowd shouting at Pilate, “Away with this man [Jesus]! Release Barabbas to us!” Pilate meekly acquiesced, after going on record that he had not found Jesus guilty of any crime deserving of crucifixion. John’s gospel narrative has Pilate claiming to have found no grounds whatsoever for charging Jesus with any crime at all; but, again, “Pilate tried to set Jesus free, but the Jews kept shouting, ‘Give us Barabbas!’”

What can a poor boy do but to give into popular demand, because in sleepy Jerusalem there ain't no place for a god become man? 

The passion narratives set forth by the Christian evangelists are obviously contrived “set pieces,” dramatic fabrications as little tethered to history as the tales of Hercules or Samson. The gospels’ account of Jesus’ ‘trial’ served two purposes: first, it exculpated the Roman authorities (Pilate), thereby communicating to Rome that Christians had no beef with the empire; they were loyal citizens who could be trusted not to rebel. Second, it inculpated the Jewish authorities and the Jewish people, thus widening the growing chasm (at the time the gospels were written) between Judaism and nascent Christianity and, not incidentally, making anti-Semitism a cornerstone of the Church. This, like so much else, had been prophesied, in this case by John the Baptist who correctly noted, when asked about Jesus, “He must become greater; I must become less.” The torch had been passed to a new Chosen People, the followers of Jesus.   

Barabbas was released. Like Lazarus, he thereupon vanished, never to be heard from again (except in fictional accounts, such as his on-screen portrayal by Anthony Quinn). ¹ What sort of man was he: a brigand, a rebel, a murderer, as charged, and a prime candidate for recidivism? But perhaps he too had been the victim of injustice, hauled before the authorities and thrown into prison for crimes he had not committed? Perhaps, while in prison, he prayed to Israel’s God, begging to be set free?

An alternative timeline: Jesus is set free, Barabbas is crucified, and the Jerusalem mob, furious that Pilate has defied them, turns the city upside down. Pilate predictably sends out his troops to restore order, which they do by cutting down every Jew in sight. Jerusalem, not for the first time or the last, is drenched in blood. Jesus, whose near-death experience has left him shaken, is whisked away by his equally frightened disciples; they return to their lives in Galilee—that is, to the uneventful lives they had been living before being seduced by Jesus and his messianic dreams.

Barabbas is dead, his corpse thrown into a ditch alongside others who had met a similar fate. Jesus goes back to Nazareth, sadder but wiser, where he lives quietly with his mother, his brothers, and his sisters. He takes a wife, perhaps, and raises a family of his own. Jesus’ brother James, however, becomes restive at home; one evening, he surreptitiously takes his leave and returns to Jerusalem, where he becomes the respected leader ("James the Just") of a group of Jews who honor the teachings of Jesus while patiently awaiting the arrival of the next true messiah. As James explains it, rummaging through the dustbin of history for all the failed messiahs and all the messianic pretenders, all the con men and charlatans and swindlers and grifters, and all the lunatic, deluded, and possessed visionaries, the naïve and the calculating: “There must be,” James insists, “a pony in here somewhere.”

Two thousand years later, in whichever timeline you choose, the world is still waiting for its pony.  

________________________

¹ Anthony Quinn’s Barabbas was a 1961 film based on a 1950 novel by the Nobel Prize-winning Swedish novelist, Par Lagerkvist: “Barabbas watches Jesus as he bears the cross to Golgotha, witnesses the crucifixion, and then spends the rest of his life trying to understand why he was chosen to live rather than Jesus.” “Survivor guilt,” first-century style.

For other speculations about Barabbas, see Barabbas - Wikipedia

"Give us Zorba the Greek," cried the crowd.

Wednesday without Pascal: Who Canceled Lazarus?

{Pascal the existential Russian blue cat has requested permission to set aside for this week his series on Professor Kevin Slack’s Hillsdale College lectures. Instead, Pascal will graciously allow me to share some of my thoughts on the final days of Jesus; I have done the reading, and I have some questions.}

In the four canonical gospel narratives we possess, three fascinating but mysterious characters appear: in chronological order, they are Lazarus of Bethany, brother of Martha and Mary; Barabbas, a convicted criminal rumored to be a revolutionary of some kind; and Joseph of Arimathea, a place never found on a map or identified by historians. Those three characters, and the roles they play in Jesus’ story, are headscratchers, to say the least; where they came from and what became of them are just as unknown as the location (or even the existence) of Arimathea.

Lazarus figures into the gospel of John—the latest of the four gospels to be written, composed by an alleged eyewitness perhaps sixty-five years after Jesus’ death. The eleventh chapter of John’s book is all about Lazarus being taken seriously ill, his sisters sending a message to Jesus (“Lord, the one you love is sick”), and Jesus’ nonchalant response; rather than hurrying to Lazarus’ bedside, Jesus is content to take his time, explaining, “This sickness is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” To his puzzled disciples, he adds, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”

Lazarus was indeed dead; four days after he had been placed in a tomb, Jesus arrived; he was admonished by the grieving sisters, and he responded, as was his wont in John’s gospel, with a speech. Then, standing outside Lazarus’ burial place, he wept, as John succinctly states (“Jesus wept.”) Then Jesus ordered the tomb to be unsealed, prayed briefly to his Father in heaven, and called out loudly, “Lazarus, come out!” Which Lazarus did, just long enough to take a bow and then vanish from the narrative and from history; what became of him is unknown, as he had apparently served his purpose, that is, that God’s Son Jesus be glorified.

Lazarus’ return to life also served to further rile up the Jewish authorities, who already had been looking for ways and reasons to get rid of Jesus. What strikes me as counterintuitive is that “the chief priests, the Pharisees, [and] the Sanhedrin” immediately decided, upon hearing of what Jesus had done, to kill him—that is, to kill a man who had publicly demonstrated his power over life and death, a man for whom calling forth someone from the tomb could be done with three simple words: “Lazarus, come forth!” I would not think you would want to trifle with, much less plot against, a man with that kind of power. I would think that priests and holy men might consider the possibility (as the rabbi Gamaliel later points out) that “If this activity is of human origin, it will fail, but if it is from God, you will not be able to stop this man; you will find yourself fighting against God.” That strikes me as a persuasive argument.

Nevertheless, as we know, Jesus was arrested and put to death. Unlike Lazarus, he did not spend four days in a tomb before being brought back to life; he managed it in only three, a record that remained unsurpassed until Harry Houdini. No one should have been surprised that Jesus rose, given that he had previously raised Lazarus; but surprised everyone was. Nor is there any record of the resurrected Jesus dropping in on Lazarus, Mary, and Martha in Bethany; had they been run out of town on a rail or relocated into a kind of Judean “witness protection program”? They are not mentioned in the Book of Acts or, so far as I know, anywhere else in the canonical scriptures. They may have been closer to Jesus than anyone, aside from his family and his twelve disciples, but they were not included in his glorious Easter parade.

If Lazarus was so beloved by Jesus that his death prompted Jesus for once to show a genuine emotion (not counting his occasional displays of annoyance, impatience, or anger), why did we not hear of him before his sickness and death? Moreover, how is it that this one spectacular miracle (or “mighty deed”) was not mentioned by either Matthew, Mark, or Luke, appearing only in the gospel of John? The silence of the other evangelists is even more strange if John is correct in suggesting that the raising of Lazarus was the last straw for Jesus’ opponents and the immediately precipitating motive for his arrest.

I am not, I hope, engaging in exegetical nit-picking. Gospel discrepancies are not hard to find, but for the most part they are irrelevant to the credibility of the larger narratives. In this case, however, it is simply not plausible that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all completely ignored the man Lazarus, whose death wounded Jesus deeply and whose resuscitation led, in fairly short order, to Jesus’ death. ¹ 

So much for Lazarus of Bethany, but what are we to make of Barabbas or of Joseph of Arimathea?

_____________________________________

¹ In fairness, it also prefigured or foreshadowed Jesus' resurrection.

 

Thus sayeth the Lord: "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Sunday Sermon: "Roll Away the Stone"

{With all due respect to the late Leon Russell, I have no idea what the connection is between this song’s verses and its chorus. Is this a love song or an Easter hymn? Perhaps Leon and his co-writer were simply not on the same page? In any case, as Leon Russell himself once said, “Don’t get all hung-up about Easter…”}

"Roll Away the Stone"

Well it's such a strange world that I'm living in
She was my woman and she was my friend
But I was wrong again.
Such a strange changes that you put me through
But like a fool I fell in love with you
What can this poor boy do?

Roll away the stone
Don't leave me here alone
Resurrect me and protect me
Don't leave me laying here
What will they do in two thousand years?

It's such a strange time that we're passing through
I thought you'd tell me when your time was due
I guess you thought I knew
Strange way to keep avoiding me
Why did you lie how could I help but be
Oh won't you help me be?

Roll away the stone
Don't leave me here alone
Resurrect me and protect me
Don't leave me laying here
What will they do in two thousand years?
__________________________________

Writer(s): Leon Russell, Greg Dempsey

Original studio version: Roll Away The Stone - YouTube

Live version: Roll Away The Stone (Live) - YouTube

{The best live version is on the Mad Dogs & Englishmen album; alas, I could not find it on YouTube}

 

Saturday Lecture: Jesus Goes to Hell

(Christian tradition has it that Jesus spent the brief time (36 hours?) between his death and his resurrection rescuing previously unredeemed souls from Hell. This post-mortem adventure is known as “the harrowing of Hell,” and it did not make its way into the canonical Christian gospels. It did, however, make its way into various apocryphal (unauthorized) documents of the early Church (e.g., the Gospel of Nicodemus) and into liturgical ceremonies as well. In the following text, notice the theme of human deification emerging, as Jesus says to Adam, ‘You in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person,’ and then ‘I make the cherubim worship you as they would God.’}

A reading from an ancient homily for Holy Saturday: The Lord’s Descent into Hell "What is happening? Today there is a great silence over the earth, a great silence, and stillness, a great silence because the King sleeps; the earth was in terror and was still, because God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages. God has died in the flesh, and the underworld has trembled. Truly he goes to seek out our first parent like a lost sheep; he wishes to visit those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. He goes to free the prisoner Adam and his fellow-prisoner Eve from their pains, he who is God, and Adam's son. The Lord goes in to them holding his victorious weapon, his cross. When Adam, the first created man, sees him, he strikes his breast in terror and calls out to all: 'My Lord be with you all.' And Christ in reply says to Adam: ‘And with your spirit.’ And grasping his hand he raises him up, saying: ‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light. ‘I am your God, who for your sake became your son, who for you and your descendants now speak and command with authority those in prison: Come forth, and those in darkness: Have light, and those who sleep: Rise. ‘I command you: Awake, sleeper, I have not made you to be held a prisoner in the underworld. Arise from the dead; I am the life of the dead. Arise, O man, work of my hands, arise, you who were fashioned in my image. Rise, let us go hence; for you in me and I in you, together we are one undivided person. ‘For you, I your God became your son; for you, I the Master took on your form; that of slave; for you, I who am above the heavens came on earth and under the earth; for you, man, I became as a man without help, free among the dead; for you, who left a garden, I was handed over to Jews from a garden and crucified in a garden. ‘Look at the spittle on my face, which I received because of you, in order to restore you to that first divine inbreathing at creation. See the blows on my cheeks, which I accepted in order to refashion your distorted form to my own image. 'See the scourging of my back, which I accepted in order to disperse the load of your sins which was laid upon your back. See my hands nailed to the tree for a good purpose, for you, who stretched out your hand to the tree for an evil one. ‘I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side, for you, who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side healed the pain of your side; my sleep will release you from your sleep in Hades; my sword has checked the sword which was turned against you. ‘But arise, let us go hence. The enemy brought you out of the land of paradise; I will reinstate you, no longer in paradise, but on the throne of heaven. I denied you the tree of life, which was a figure, but now I myself am united to you, I who am life. I posted the cherubim to guard you as they would slaves; now I make the cherubim worship you as they would God. The cherubim throne has been prepared, the bearers are ready and waiting, the bridal chamber is in order, the food is provided, the everlasting houses and rooms are in readiness; the treasures of good things have been opened; the kingdom of heaven has been prepared before the ages.’ From an ancient homily for Holy Saturday: The Lord's descent into hell (vatican.va)

He descended into Hell

Existential Wednesday: Is It True?

{What does it say about my life that, when I check my web browser, I find that I have a tab open that is labeled ‘Papias of Hierapolis’? Setting that issue aside: as Easter approaches, it seems reasonable to wonder, if Jesus died for our sins, why did he then return from the dead? Had he overlooked a sin or three that still needed to be forgiven?  Was he just showing off? Did he expect to be greeted with candy and flowers when he strode triumphantly from the tomb? Was Easter his ‘Mission Accomplished’ moment? Inquiring minds want to know, and so does Pascal the existential Russian blue cat.}

“Christ's Resurrection should not be celebrated as a historical or social event, but as existential.” (Metropolitan Hierotheos)

“I can only imagine it is true / that Jesus comes with his eggful of miracles…” (Anne Sexton, “Is It True?”)

Writing in 1972, the Lutheran theologian Carl Braaten (Christ and Counter-Christ) thought that the existential mood of the moment might provide an opportunity to make sense of Jesus’ resurrection. Braaten began his meditation with what I think is one of the most profound theological questions I have ever encountered: “What if,” Braaten asked, “the resurrection is an answer to a question no one is asking?”

Assuming that his readers would be able to get past that jarring query, Braaten continued:

Is the resurrection a liberating word in history? Is it good news to modern man? Does it answer to the modern question of fragmentariness, of absurdity? If a person cannot hope for fulfillment beyond death, is there something else that can grant the sense of fulfillment? Is there anything to which a man can give his life, some cause for which he can spend it, that is not itself among the ambiguities of life?

With the references to “absurdity” and to “ambiguities,” we are of course knee-deep in existentialism, as Braaten admitted:

The main reason for existential interpretation is to make sense out of the Easter story to ourselves as modern men and women. People are asking today for a transcendent meaning of life, something more than the questionable values of culture and morality in their concrete historical forms. A person looks to a fulfilling future which brings her life to a meaningful outcome, to have a sense that she has not lived for naught. To offer someone the possibility of fulfilling their life by offering it up to society, or to the nation, or to the future development of the race, or for the glory of the tribe—all that seems hollow; none of it is equal to a human life. On the one hand, we live in a time when people are affirming the secular world, but if we rightly hear the prophets of the counter-culture, there is less and less in the glorious secular vision of technological humanity to allay the pangs of finitude. ¹

Ah yes, “the prophets of the counterculture,” possibly the same individuals about whom Alan Ginsberg wrote, “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix…” Or not; but in any case, Carl Braaten was hopeful that countercultural angst could yield to the Christian proclamation:

The message of the appearance of true life and new being in the resurrection of Jesus and in his victory over death, innocent suffering, and broken existence may offer a ground of hope beyond the questionable and fragmentary structures of secular society. Man is afflicted by a hunger for love, healing, freedom, and righteousness that cannot be satisfied by any of the structures with which he is presently allied. Man has a passion to be wholly human that cannot be satisfied by the roles he plays, by the houses and cars he owns, or by the success he gains in his upward strivings. When he races into the future or turns the clock ahead, he is only shortening the distance between now and the hour of his death.

Contrary to popular notions, the Christian gospel was only incidentally about redemption from sin; it was in fact centered on the triumph over death, a triumph accomplished (somehow) and exemplified (allegedly) by Jesus. In Eden, the human prospect of immortality had been lost; for Christians, it had been restored on Easter. Man could now assume his originally intended role, lording it over the cosmos and judging angels. The heart of Pauline Christianity is the breathtaking notion that men and women, those living “in Christ,” would henceforth be as gods. If that seems an exaggeration, allow me to cite an Orthodox Christian cleric, Metropolitan Hierotheos:

Participation in the mystery of the Resurrection is an experience of deification. He who has been initiated into the ineffable power of the Resurrection has realized from experience what Christ's purpose was in creating the world.  In reality, man was created in order to attain deification, and the world to share in the sanctification through man. Then he who is initiated into this ineffable power of the mystery of the Resurrection attains deification and fulfills the purpose of his existence. ²

Unless, of course, the Christian narrative was all just “wishful thinking,” a possibility which Braaten concedes:     

The question, then, to which the resurrection may provide an answer is the question of an adequate definition of man. ³ Can man be adequately defined in his humanness if a boundary line (death) is fixed beyond which he cannot seek his identity in fulfillment and pure freedom? Is not man a creature in quest of a total unburdening, a full freedom, in which all the negativities are themselves negated? Can man have his future closed for him, closed absolutely and with utter finality by death? Will he not rather create a myth to enshrine a vision beyond the closure? And is that myth to be classified merely as wishful thinking? Or, if it is wishful thinking, can we not learn something about man from the fact that he dreams and wishes and fantasizes beyond the limits of finitude?

Far be it from me to suggest that Braaten has answered his own questions, or that, in doing so, he has shed all the light we need on the resurrection.  

_______________________ 

¹ “Prophets of the counter-culture” would include, for instance, Bob Dylan (“I got nothing, Ma, to live up to”), Richard Thompson (“There’s nothing at the end of the rainbow / There’s nothing to grow up for anymore”), and Joni Mitchell (“You could have been more / than a name on the door / on the 33rd floor in the air”).     

² The Inner Existential Celebration of Christ's Resurrection | St. Mary Orthodox Church of Central Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts (stmaryorthodoxchurch.org)

³ Some of us have been known to ask, what are people for? The Christian argument is simple: before Christ, people were for death (“fruit for death,” as Paul phrased it), but after Christ’s resurrection, people are for (or can choose to be for) eternal life.  

Last night I had the strangest dream...