The Jesus of history and The Jesus of Dogma

I’m halfway through a book that is finally putting a wooden stake through the heart of a monster in my life.  But at the same time I wonder if the author is going to address the question, “What’s left now?” 

Frustration started with childhood questions unanswered.  Then some anger, even today.  Why weren’t we told? 

Centuries ago, when science confronted the scriptures, and the church, over issues of factuality the response was violence and the threat of violence.  Today, we are getting apologies and acknowledgement of error from the church.  It took that long. 

But more conflict followed.  And for me, hints of a crack in the foundation of church dogma were first openly and gingerly discussed at seminary, 1970-74.  Sadly, my class and others could not share this with their congregations for fear of losing their jobs and perhaps their careers.  Most of us sold out for “practical considerations” and for that I offer my heartfelt apologies to those young people who I misled out of cowardice and lack of faith in God’s direction for us. 

In the decades following my ordination, so much more has been learned both from science and from history. The author I’m reading now is among many scholars who think that beliefs we have (about) Jesus, and the most likely picture of the Jesus of history, are far different.  He maintains that the budding church in the first and second centuries faced extinction unless it organized itself and developed an enforced system of belief (about) who Jesus was.  This system of belief, written in the creeds and dogma of the church, served the purpose of addressing fears and problems among Christians.  It was, and is, not factual, and it worked in terms of rescuing the church as an organization. 

That leaves two persons: the Jesus of history and the Jesus of dogma.  But I would guess that the vast majority of people don’t even want to deal with this.  Let’s get real, I don’t expect everyone to be interested in history or theology any more than I’m interested in cooking. 

Nonetheless, there is something basic that we all desire and recognize. 

There’s not the slightest shred of evidence from honest study of scripture or history that Jesus intended to organize some kind of “church.”  Churches have a record of being in the business of business, and control, and influence.  Jesus had something more important to give and that something can be found living within, and subverting, any human institution. 

I now try to worship the God that Jesus worshiped, a God who Jesus intended to be seen as a parent – a mother or father figure.  (I have heard from so many sources of dying soldiers calling for their mothers, and we virtually ignore this very real part of our humanity and God’s reality.) 

I can’t bring myself to harm any person I really know, even if that person is not like-able.  I can only work for good when I see a person, or nature, or even an object, as part of myself.  Justice is about oneness (giving of self), not about division (punishment).  The monster of literalism is dead in me now, replaced with the loving and challenging world I share with a living God.

(Ironically, many of the non-factual metaphors about Jesus that were endorsed by the church in its early history were most likely seen by Christians then for what they were: non-factual.  Perhaps they knew that saying “is” makes for a static, lazy way of thinking, but saying “is like” compels us to think and imagine and be moved. These metaphors/myths pointed people to greater truths and gave them strength and hope.  They bring us to God, but we have taken away their power and spirit by falsely presenting them as factual.) 

(Van Hagen, John. Rescuing Religion, How Faith Can Survive Its Encounter with Science: Polebridge Press, 2012.)