November 13, 2020 3pm est
Georgia's 16 electoral votes have just been called for Joe Biden. 70% of the country has breathed a sign of relief that the horrifying nightmare of the last four years is coming to a conclusion. There are not enough words to describe the depth of immorality, ignorance, and mental and emotional instability personified in one man. We have much work to do rebuilding this country. At last we have decent, qualified leadership.
On another note, after fits and starts, I have finished the third in my trilogy on early Christian origins. I hope you will read, think, and challenge any suggestions and implications you free inclined to.
Preface
to the trilogy
“Very God of Very
God,” “made man.”
For
almost seventeen centuries the Christian church
has wrestled with how to understand the nature of Jesus. Shaped by a
pre-modern, pre-scientific world view, the followers of the apocalyptic,
messianic prophet from Nazareth soon found themselves embroiled in a heated
debate over what to believe and how to proclaim just who and what Jesus was.
Some insisted, in traditional Jewish terms, that the messiah (moshiach) was to
be a human being with historically realized goals on behalf of the Jewish
people. Others quickly defined him as a spiritual entity, sent into our world
to deliver the necessary “gnosis” for human salvation, but void of any genuine
human, physical characteristics. This meant technically that he was unable to
feel human desire or physically suffer. The interpretation that came to be
“orthodox,” and was embodied in the Nicene Creed was a hybrid compromise,
politically motivated, that was not entirely acceptable to either extreme.
There is much to be explored in the positions briefly described, but that is
not the purpose of this book.
The
expectations of the first group, known as Jewish or Ebionite Christians in
contemporary parlance, were not fulfilled. The dualistic, otherworldly
position, known as docetic and/or gnostic, must be rejected as a relic of
pre-Enlightenment mentality. The synthesis found in the third resolution is
rationally, philosophically, and theologically defenseless. However, over two
billion believers today accept the explanation as “mystery” and move forward
“on faith.”
Unfortunately,
in the process and in reality, for the overwhelming majority of Christians, any
discussion or emphasis of the truly human nature of Jesus is offensive and
ignored. Can you imagine Jesus performing bodily functions? Can you imagine
Jesus having sex or fathering a child? I not only recognize that he could have,
but that he probably did, and I hope this is enough to entice you to enter the
world I explore in the following pages.
This trilogy
is the product of an ongoing process covering forty years of study, research,
conversation, and honest effort to go where the path led. I must thank former
theology classmates, challenging professors, questioning colleagues, hundreds
of students demanding that theses be defended, and fellow seekers, some willing
and others reluctant, who encouraged this small effort to move the dialogue
along.
I
especially express gratitude to my daughters whose questions then and now force
me to be open and humble. To my wife whose presence on this journey was and is
indispensable, I am forever indebted.
Preface
to Part I: Jesus: A Would be Messiah
Section I: Caiaphas
Looking back in retrospect
If I had known then what I know now, I would have let the
little mamzer drown.
I love
the seaside, especially in early summer before it gets too hot and unpleasant.
The cool breezes coming off the Sea of Galilee with the smells of fish and
market help you forget. Even then, I couldn’t wait to get out of Jerusalem and
head north. Despite the extra miles required to avoid the stinking, unclean
Samaritans by detouring through the Decapolis, I didn’t dread the five day
trip. There was much to see, and playful games with children’s mischievous
antics helped pass the time quickly.
Our
ancestor home in Capernaum was a needed get away. I never tired of hearing the
stories. My patriarch Levi had asked Father Israel for a homestead, as a family
retreat in what the Romans called Galilee. He had agreed, and Levi settled on
the northwest coast of the Sea. Fishing was bountiful, and pasture lands were
lush. Even though many relatives made the sojourn during the great drought, a
few stayed, never relinquishing our claim to the land. When the Law Giver
brought them home and Yeshua claimed the land, my ancestors were allowed to
keep the small parcel for family use.
Being
from the tribe of Levi, it was our blessing and calling to serve the children
of Abraham as perpetual priests. Serving the people and being served by the
people put us in a unique position. We did not share in the distribution and
assignment of the land like the other tribes. Especially when moshiach David
conquered Jerusalem and centered the worship of the one true G-d in his new
capitol, my family gathered there to perform our priestly duties. I have to
admit, it was a privileged life.
The
rotation of Temple duties required proximity to the Temple Mount, and from the
beginning, the choicest land was reserved for priestly families. The Temple tax
provided for the upkeep of the sanctuary, priestly vestments, and implements
(one robe correctly stitched and ornately embroidered could cost 500 denarii).
Except for the brief time following Yehudah Maccabeus’ grand liberation, the
tax paid the tribute to ruling overlords, and provided a very comfortable
living for all the priestly families.
Grandfather Seth built the family compound in the fifth year of Pompey’s
rule. When jealousy and political intrigue pitted brother against brother and
cousin and cousin, Pompey’s enforced order brought an uneasy peace and, even if
from external origins, much desired security. With that security, an important
part of which was financial, Abba Annas’ position was guaranteed. As High
Priest it was imperative that he look and live the part. This included the
finest of residential standards and a lifestyle that was the envy of everyone.
Abba
Annas chose a promontory northwest of the Herodian Temple as the place to build
his house. From here one had an unrestricted view of the gleaming walls and
magnificent roof of the Temple. Direct access to the southwest stairs leading
to the Coponius Gate let us observe all who came and went. He knew everything
that happened, but more importantly, all who came and went could not avoid
seeing our home and knowing that this was where the most important person in
Jerusalem lived. Everyone, man, woman, child, Gentile, and Adonai’s chosen
people entered the Temple under the critical judgment and generous permission of the High Priest.
Everyone answered to him. He answered to no one but G-d and, of course, Caesar.
Annas spared no expense. Despite jealousy and rumors of
Temple treasury used for personal gain, the people of Israel had to understand
that Adonai’s priests deserved comfort in recompense for lives devoted to
ritual performance. And his house had every comfort imaginable.
Built on three levels, it measured over 2000 square feet.
The courtyard, where guests first entered, household commerce was transacted,
and servants’ and family pets were quartered, opened to the west. On opposite
sides of this never quiet center of activity were two mikvot, one for
males--the crown of Adonai’s creation--and one for females, our given
helpmates. Every precaution was taken to guarantee personal, ritual purity,
which was our obligation and gratitude to the one true G-d. The entire area was
walled and gated for necessary safety.
The
second level contained the great Judgment Hall. Here Annas conducted legal and
civic business. One side opened to overlook the courtyard. From below family
and interested parties to the discussions above saw and heard as arguments were
made and decisions rendered. On this level, the opulence was obvious and
intentional. Mosaic floors done by the best craftsmen in Jerusalem were
everywhere. Breathtaking frescoes of elaborate floral design covered every
wall. The finest glassware and ceramics the Mediterranean world had to offer
were conspicuously placed throughout the Judgment Hall and adjacent banquet
room. Carpets from Persia, couches and tables intricately handcrafted from the
mountains of Lebanon, bronze and gold vessels from Egypt filled every space.
The balcony, that ran the full length of the eastern side of the house,
provided the unobstructed view of the Temple. Everyday the family could stand
in awe of the gold plated House of the L--d, established by Solomon and crowned
by Herod.
The third level gave no less testimony to the prominence of
this family. It contained the private quarters where once again the creature
comforts lauded social status. From furniture to imported cosmetics, jewelry to
silk robes, crafted leather to Aegean purple, only Herod the Great himself
could boast of greater wealth.
Some
people just could not understand or appreciate that rank has privileges and
responsibilities. Annas bore the heavy obligation of balancing Roman
expectations and Temple requirements. Most critics were open, sometimes
violent, in their self-righteous opposition to ritual and monetary levies; they
could be controlled by Rome when necessary, or more routinely by Temple Guard.
Other critics, even the handful among the priesthood, were more subtle and
passive in their protests.
For
example, there was a minor functionary named Zechariah who deliberately chose
to live outside the Temple compound, and refused the financial support due his
station. He took his wife, I think her name was Elizabeth, to reside in Ein
Kerem, rejecting the comforts of Jerusalem. Even when in late life they had a
son, he stubbornly refused to bring them into the city. I, unfortunately,
underestimated the depth of public support these voices controlled.
While
my family never attained the office of High Priest itself, in important
secondary roles we were responsible for the upkeep and cleanliness of the
Temple proper, provided choir masters, served as musicians, and controlled
security to the Temple Mount. As Chief Warden I got to know and be known by
Annas, one of the most powerful and politically skillful men ever to serve as
High Priest. Chosen to be his personal assistant, I developed religious and
palace connections that proved to be very beneficial one day. It did not hinder
those ambitions when I met Sarai, Annas’ daughter, and we eventually married.
Truth be told, I was closer to him than his blood sons and received his
endorsement to become High Priest, even before four of them.
Sarai
and I built our house just north of her father’s. The physical closeness
allowed us to remain intimately involved in family activities. It also enabled
me to maintain daily involvement with Annas, further learning religious and
political skills that one day came in
very handy, and gave me access to his wisdom and judgment.
I had
no idea how all of this would collide with the world of a Galilean peasant and
change the course of my world.
Preface
to Part II: Paul: A Would be Apostle
Chapter 1
Under the Roman Heel
The
sound of the approaching soldiers sent fear throughout Gishala as parents
anxiously gathered their children and sought safety in their meager houses.
Melchi had been leading prayers in the synagogue when the first cries of panic
and desperation reached his ears. He immediately thought of Hannah and the
children, and, without removing his tzittzit, the prayer shawl his wife had
lovingly made for him, after rolling the scroll, he ran for his house. Calling
her name at the top of his lungs, Melchi met Hannah at the entrance to the
courtyard and demanded to know where the children were. Julia and Simeon clung
to their mother’s robe while she cradled Herodion in her arms, but twelve year
old Saul was nowhere to be found. Before he could begin searching for his
eldest son, Melchi and the family were forced inside the house by the Roman
Petronius and his cohort.
Inquisitive
and naïve, Saul, who had gone to the village well to draw water for his mother,
stood frozen, unable to fathom the gravity of the situation. Horses trampled
old men and small children unable to get out of the way in time. Soldiers moved
quickly and methodically from house to house, and when the dust settled,
Petronius shouted for all to hear.
“You are under Caesar’s control and will do exactly as I say
or suffer immediate consequences. Every family is to come forward. Fathers,
bring your wives and children NOW.”
Knowing Roman impatience from years of servitude, the men of
the village hustled the women and children as quickly as possible before the
Roman invaders. Saul somehow avoided being caught on the end of an enthusiastic
soldier’s spear and was able to locate his family among all the confusion.
Fortunately, inhabitants were few and everyone knew everyone else. He was pushed
along by friends until he saw his mother and father. His younger sister and
brothers were crying inconsolably as Hannah wrapped her arms around them.
Melchi grabbed Saul and drew him close.
Petronius indiscriminately selected ten young men from among
the crowd, and, as the villagers watched, they were chained together with iron
anklets that cut into their skin and were roped together by the neck. They were
ceremoniously paraded through the crowd and last seen as they were escorted
down the road toward Sepphoris. No amount of protests could change the Romans’
minds. No pleading denials could convince Petronius that the people of Gishala
had had nothing to do with Judas the Galilean. No prayers could save the
innocent.
YHWH was absent, deaf, blind, and had abandoned His people,
at least this day.
“Listen carefully. You’ve got exactly one watch to go to
your hovels; gather everything you can carry on your backs and come back here.
Two of my men will go with each family to be sure you don’t try to do something
stupid. I guarantee you I will personally kill anyone who disobeys or tries to
escape. I suggest food and water be your main concern,” he said with a scowl on
his lips.
-----------------------
Under
the watchful eye of the two guards assigned to them, Melchi and his family
quickly headed home. He was able to convince the two, after some pleading and
explanation, to let him make a very quick stop at the synagogue2 and collect
the scroll he had been reading only recently. Arriving at their house, the family
painfully chose the meager possessions they felt they could comfortably carry .
Hannah gave each child only what they were physically able to take without
slowing others down.
Saul, oldest and strongest, secured a grownup’s load in his
blanket and slung it over his shoulder. The house and village were not much,
but they were all Saul had ever known, and already there was a hole in his
heart and hollowness in his soul. It was his world and his tie to the land
promised to father Abraham. Saul was a Hebrew, a Jew, circumcised on the eighth
day, like his namesake the first king of Israel from the tribe of Benjamin,
and, like his father, he was becoming zealous for the Law.3 He too expected to
become a Pharisee and, YHWH willing, a great teacher of his people. Those
dreams seemed crushed under the Roman heel now.
Back at
village center, when everyone had returned according to orders, Petronius
delivered what many considered a death sentence.
“You
are going north. The way is not easy and any stragglers will be eliminated.
Keep up or die! Get in line and follow the standard bearer. Livestock will
bring up the rear. I want three groups of ten young men who will take turns
herding the animals along with us. Lose an animal, let one get away, and you
will suffer the same fate. Do I make myself clear?”
With
his father’s blessing Saul quickly volunteered, assuming greater freedom in the
assignment, and was given first watch. All others, men, women, and children,
began the labored march out of Gishala, turning north. The last vision from
over their shoulders was billowing black smoke. There was no turning back.
Other
than the few trips to Sepphoris, trips you could count on one hand, trips he
had only recently been permitted to take with his father to pay required taxes,
Saul had lived his short years in secluded Gishala. Today held both fear and
adventure for a teenager old enough to know that the only way of life he had
ever known was ending and to realize he was facing a new unknown beginning. It
would not be the last time he faced the unknown.
They
soon found themselves on the Coastal Highway, and when Melchi realized their
fate, knots formed in the pit of his stomach and tears filled his eyes. Every
step took them farther from “home,” and the reality of separation seized their
hearts. Melchi had heard of the Diaspora but never entertained the slightest
idea that he would experience such sadness.
Within
days the road veered toward Damascus. Petronius had been replaced, actually
reassigned to the Tyre and Sidon area, and the Gishala contingency had merged
with other displaced groups from all over upper Galilee. Varus was returning to
home base and taking the spoils of war with him. As news of where they were
spread throughout the camp, a slight sigh of relief was almost audible. Maybe
rest, maybe destination, maybe one day being allowed to return home.
Frustration and despair do not begin to describe the disappointment when, after
a week, the people were ordered to continue the journey north.
Travel
had become routine by now, not easy, but bearable. There had been casualties.
Old Eleazer just could not keep up, and the Romans were not about to jeopardize
the life of a donkey for an old Jew. A few sheep had wandered away undetected,
and floggings followed to discourage it happening again. Even Saul had received
a sound blow across his back for getting distracted from his duties. Truth be
told, new sights, fascinating people, and the Sea- that wondrous magnificent
Sea- captured the young man’s imagination. Tempted but anchored in tradition,
Saul continued his study of Torah at every opportunity. Melchi even allowed
other young men to join in his instruction, and every Sabbath, on the run or
resting, he led the community in prayers. After all, all creation is the L—d’s
and He is to be found everywhere. Wasn’t that Isaiah’s message? Part of the
journey took the people through Arca, a land later to be ruled by Agrippa II, a
name and man Saul would have occasion to meet.
Along
the route small groups were separated from the larger assembly and assigned to
small villages as their permanent new homes. Traveling through Syria and
Cilicia, Saul and his “neighbors” followed the Orontes River and arrived at the
most magnificent city Saul had ever imagined. Antioch on the Orontes was a
wonder to behold-- hellenized, urban, commercial, tempting, rich-- a virtual
whirlpool. The streets were wide, and the temples gleamed in the sun. Sitting
at the crossroads of major north/south and east/west trade routes, the city’s
wealth was surpassed only by Rome and Alexandria. At the same time many
religions of the empire found their home here and attracted many eager
worshippers. It would not be his last visit to this opulent place, but it was
not to be the stopping place now.
Skirting
the city center to the west, Saul and the remaining villagers from Gishala
caught a glimpse of Mount Casius rising from the coast to a majestic height of
over 5,000 feet. Being unfamiliar with the terrain, the group breathed a sigh
of relief when the column took a more northern route, thinking they had avoided
the hardships of having to cross that mountain range. Coming through the Beilan
pass, the Plain of Antioch presented a welcome sight. It was five miles broad
and 10 miles long, and the lure of easy walking was a welcome vision. But the
looming view of Mount Amanus quickly sobered the exiles. One day of easy travel
before the challenge of crossing the Tarsus Range.
Like so
many travelers before them-- free, slave, military, merchant caravans-- their
hearts sank as they braced themselves for one more formidable obstacle. Word
spread quickly throughout the camp. Maybe the soldiers were as tired as the
folks from Gishala. Maybe they hoped for rest and home more than this weary
band. For whatever reason, unlike most other times, the destination was openly
discussed, and Saul and his family realized the journey’s end was in sight.
Well, “in sight” involved crossing the mountains, passing
through the Cilician Gates, and continuing twenty miles down to the city of
Tarsus. Unfortunately, that portion of the trip was made harder by torrential
rains. Saul, his family, and the others were forced to sit in their meager
tents, unable to escape the driving sheets of rain, soaked to the bone, and
hungry like never before in their lives. Hannah and Melchi gave their portions
to the younger children, but that soon ran out. Four of the older women died
from hunger and exposure; one infant died when its mother’s milk dried up, and
there was nothing to give it.
Finally,
a break in the weather, and the journey continued. Aided by sunny skies and the
elevation of the western slope, the weary, hungry travelers beheld Tarsus
stretched in front of them. The guards talked about the city’s proximity to the
Mediterranean, actually ten short miles. The Cydnus River meandered through the
center of the town, forming a picturesque view from their vantage point. Not
quite visible but clear in the soldiers’ minds, the Cydnus flowed into Lake
Rhegma, which served as the harbor for Tarsus and was situated halfway between
the Mediterranean and Tarsus. It was a long way and a lifetime from Gishala,
but Saul could not help but be excited. His family had survived; YHWH had
delivered them. Remembering his father’s advice to always do his best,
regardless of the circumstances, Saul nevertheless secreted the hope of
returning home one day.
Preface
to Part III: James: A Would be Follower
As he
had every morning for the last thirty-three years, Yaaqov woke with the rising
sun, washed his hands, and recited
מודה אני לפניך מלך חי וקיים שהחזרת בי נשמתי בחמלה
רבה אמונתך.
[ "I give thanks before You, Living and Eternal King,
that You have returned within me my soul with compassion; [how] abundant is
Your faithfulness!"].
He then relieved
himself and performed the ritual cleansing in preparation for the morning meal.
After blessing the meager fare of bread, dried figs, and fresh water ברוך אתה ה'
א לוהינו, מלך העולם, המוציא לחם מן הארץ
["Blessed are You, LORD our God, King of the universe,
Who brings forth bread from the earth."]
he ate his breakfast
and went to the Temple to spend the day in prayer.
Yaaqov
had not always been this observant, but his brother had had a profound impact
on his life and practices. Now, in a demonstration of his commitment to
continue and profess Yeshua’s proclamation of the immanent coming kingdom and
in his role as his successor and leader of the Way, Yaaqov’s life carried
profound meaning. This was not to mention the conflict with the faction who
disregarded dietary and ethical regulations!
To be
honest his life was lonely at times, especially after Elizabeth’s death. She
died in premature childbirth along with the child. He remembered their
excitement when she finally got pregnant after years of thinking it would never
happen. Before it did, they doted over Yeshua’s and Mariamne’s Yehuda. Older
brother’s first son and oldest grandson, Yehuda was quite spoiled, and Mary,
his grandmother, didn’t even try to hide her affection and patience with the
precocious child. His wife’s death left an indescribable void in his heart.
Yeshua’s
death tightened the family bonds. As a widower it was even more expected that
he would marry Mariamne and adopt Yehuda, but there was no physical attraction.
She and Yeshua had been inseparable, and any thought of him being replaced was
out of the question. Yaaqov quietly and dutifully took the child, the widow,
and his own mother, now a widow for the second time, into his house, and they
lived in inexpressible joy and sadness. After all, this was his brother’s dying
request as he hung on the tree and succumbed to that brutal torture at the
hands of the Roman overlords.
His
brother liked to say that YHWH doesn’t give us more burdens than we can bear,
with YHWH’s help of course, but Yaaqov never completely grasped the seriousness
of the claim until those awful events in Jerusalem all those years ago. So,
surrounded and strengthened by family love, they naively forged ahead with
their assumed responsibilities. Life didn’t stand still.
Within
two years after Yeshua’s death, Yehuda died of head pain, uncontrollable
nausea, and intestinal bleeding. His mother and uncle buried him in the tomb
with his father, and when time had done its work on the small body, they
prepared a miniature ossuary and gently placed the bones in the box and the box
beside his father’s. His grandmother was never consoled, and within the year,
she too would find her place beside her son and grandson.
Mariamne,
not to be content simply keeping house and taking care of Yaaqov, found her own
voice among the followers and growing community of the Way. She initially
returned to Magdala to renew ties with the extended family she had left when
she and Yeshua were married. She also spent some time in Capernaum, the
Galilean home they shared before beginning the public ministry they shared with
her brothers-in-law and early followers. Unfortunately, this proved too
stressful for Cephas and his wife, especially when they showed up in the
village for a brief stopover on their way to Antioch. She had never been
completely comfortable around Cephas, and later reports of his vacillation
between Jerusalem’s expectations and the rival Paul’s group only confirmed her
suspicions. In addition to that, Cephas seemed to resent her relationship with
Yeshua, denying her her rightful place in the community’s hierarchy. Cephas had
always been a little uncomfortable with Yeshua’s emphasis on equality.
Outwardly
Mariamne was brave, composed, forceful. Yaaqov knew that inside, she grieved
for a young husband and a child taken too soon from a mother that desperately
loved him. The harassment from the Roman oppressors who never forgot the
disturbance caused by her husband and his ardent followers, still suspicious of
the criticism represented by Yeshua’s followers’ presence in Jerusalem, finally
took its toll. Always diminutive and weakened by miscarriages as well as the
lone childbirth, she eventually was limited to house care. Despite Yaaqov’s
prayerful attention, she died leaving him completely alone again.
He
buried her with Yeshua, Yehuda, Mary, and Elizabeth. He and his brothers would
join them in the coming years. For now, he was alone with his memories. With
the women, he had reflected on the words and deeds of his brother. Like his
mother and family, he had struggled with Yeshua’s early behavior, even trying
to convince him that perhaps he was too zealous or too consumed or just
mistaken. But with time he too became convinced. Now, without Mariamne, Mary,
and Elizabeth, he was the keeper of the memories, the faithful preserver of the
wisdom, the transmitter of the message. If not him, then who?
So here
he was, thirty-three years later. Like every morning before, he prepared to go
to the Temple. The priests expected him, and he had been warned that Annas II,
out of patience, was planning “something.” After all, the establishment
remembered the disturbance he caused a few years back when he brought the
troublemaker Paul and the gentile Trophimus into the Court of Israel. In his
defense, Yaaqov did not know what Paul was up to. He hadn’t anticipated the
arrogant demonstration that Paul, increasingly independent and hostile, would
create. Agrippa II was not going to
tolerate any trouble either. Most importantly, Yaaqov’s followers expected him
to continue his witness and challenge.
This
morning was different. He sensed it, an uneasiness, a tension in the air not
unlike that evening thirty-three years ago. He and the others were caught
completely off guard when Yudah Iscariot and the Roman cohort found them in the
garden. Something told him things were just not right now, and the moment he
set foot on the steps to the Huldah Gate, all doubts were removed.
