Sunday, April 24, 2011

The Point of Jesus From a Philosophical Perspective

I don't write a lot about Jesus. He has never really fascinated me as a philosopher or as a person. But his death--and Socrates' death--says volumes not necessarily about him, but our collective reaction to him.

The deaths of Socrates and Jesus are tragic in such a profound way that few would ever dare consider, because the manner in which they were killed speaks to the very worst in all of us.

I don't consider Jesus to be even a very important philosopher on paper (fitting, because he didn't write anything down; for that matter, neither did Socrates), but I still consider him a nice guy who really should not have been murdered. The reason I don't view Jesus as incredibly important philosophically is because he offered a utopian system of ethics that is truly impossible, and banked everything on divine judgment, despite the fact that there are very good immediate "worldly" reasons to be a good person. Many of these were laid out in Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics. I don't think waiting a lifetime for the consequences of your actions is an effective motivation for doing anything. People are generally bad at considering anything more than the immediate consequences of any decision, and in my view, therefore, need very good "worldly" justifications for being good, such as having people like you and listening to what you have to say; having true friends as opposed as those you need to pay in order to keep their company, or the fact that helping others triggers a positive emotional response in all parties. Doing good feels good. This says nothing more or less about the integrity of their character than trying to score Brownie Points with God.

But all of this is really beside the point. Remember who Jesus was interacting with, because this will be extremely important later: Jesus was helping the disenfranchised, and eviscerating the wealthy, probably because he saw that the existing system as oppressive. Do not forget that a recurring theme in the Old Testament was also the care for the poor and disenfranchised, and in this way Jesus is still not a complete reversal.

And then there was the Pharisees, who were principally the ones who whipped up the crowd to call for his death because he had gained the support of the lower classes and were thus a danger to their power. Pontius Pilate didn't really want to kill him, but the people, who were manipulated against Jesus by the Pharisees, demanded he be crucified. And so he was.

Socrates was forced to drink Hemlock because of trumped up charges resulting from his cross-examinations of government leaders, often resulting in the exposure of their ignorance. He, too, was a threat to the powers that be.

Jesus was killed because he was a threat to the ruling class; his system of ethics and lifestyle resembled what we would think of as a commune. The problem with Jesus' death, ultimately, is that it was supported by the very people who stood to benefit from and originally supported what he had to say. The ultimate tragedy is that the people themselves wanted him to die.

Let us imagine that Jesus did come back. To be kind, let us even give him the scars he presented to his followers that, according to the story, proved that he was who he said he was when he returned. Let us also allow that he said pretty much the exact same things he said when he was originally alive.

How would people react to him? The reality of this question in its possibility--not of Jesus' factual return, but the reaction he would receive from his audience--should frighten you. In other words, if Jesus ever returned, we as a society would kill him again. It is Dostoevsky's "The Grand Inquisitor"; the irony is that Jesus would probably be murdered for his own sake--in the name of the very institutions that are supposedly attached to his legacy. One could very well argue that these institutions are not really doing what Jesus intended--which would be a fair point--but this line of reasoning would eventually call into question the very nature and authenticity of Christianity itself when matched against the figure it revolves around.

The crux of Christianity, of what follows from the tragedy of his death, the possibility of resurrection and further prophecy, stems from the profound guilt at having killed him. The people who originally believed in him probably saw the profound, cosmic injustice of his death, and devised a story with a "happy ending," in which his spirit endures and his martyrdom guarantees salvation for them. This guilt is further assuaged by a kind of determinism of the whole thing: "It was supposed to happen." But did Jesus himself see it that way? Did he want to become a martyr? Did he think he was intended to construct Heaven and Hell, or participate in a cosmic chess game against Satan? When Jesus says that he was betrayed at the Last Supper, it might not have been any kind of divine knowledge; he might have had someone tell him about the plot to have him arrested. Also, much like Socrates in "The Crito," he might have simply accepted his fate, and dined knowing that he was going to be captured, much like Socrates telling Crito that while the punishment is unjust, because I live here, I must obey them (and form the basis of Social Contract Theory). To shed light on this problem, Jesus remarked, "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they are doing" [Luke 23:34 NSRV]. This single quote clarifies for us that Jesus did not see himself as a martyr, or, even if he did, he did not want to be one. He did not say, "Hey guys, I'll be right back. Everything will be fine." The supernatural elements surrounding his death were artificially imposed precisely because the people who loved him needed something more to hold on to; they could not live with an injustice as the end result. Even in the failure of the Garden of Eden, God did not abandon his creations, and here, too, the people who believed in Jesus would not allow their relationship with God to end in such tragedy.

But I don't see it that way. I don't think that Jesus' death could ever be whitewashed or compensated for. I may be deemed a pessimist, but I cannot deal with the fact that were we to have another chance--or even multiple chances--we would blow it. But the primary reason why I am so upset is that the people who would kill Jesus are the very same people who say they love him. I also don't condone murdering philosophers, but that's a given.

2 comments:

Rev. Nathan Busker, D.Min. said...

It was those who cheered Jesus on day were the ones shouting for Jesus to be crucified. Nothing has changed. We love Jesus one day for what he can do for us. We want him gone when his demands of us infringe upon our comfort.

You wrote "Even in the failure of the Garden of Eden, God did not abandon his creations..." That is exactly why Jesus existed, died and rose. Because in the brokenness of creation, God has not abandoned God's creation.

My other thought is that you need to expand your understanding of salvation. Your reading 20th century individualism on top of the biblical witness.

Why don't you begin stepping back and taking a macro perspective. As Lesslie Newbigin said, "The Bible is the body of literature which...renders accessible to us the character and actions and purposes of God." When reading the Old Testament and the New Testament, don't you begin to see the purposes of God? I think you do. You began to touch upon them in your blog.

MiSaNtHrOpE said...

"It was those who cheered Jesus on day were the ones shouting for Jesus to be crucified. Nothing has changed. We love Jesus one day for what he can do for us. We want him gone when his demands of us infringe upon our comfort."

That is the immense tragedy of it. We want everything to be easy, and when we are held to account, we do anything and everything we can to avoid seeing ourselves for what we are. That is the nature not simply of human beings, but of institutions. This is the crux of my entire argument.

"You wrote "Even in the failure of the Garden of Eden, God did not abandon his creations..." That is exactly why Jesus existed, died and rose. Because in the brokenness of creation, God has not abandoned God's creation."

That's exactly right. But the chief question I ask is whether or not Jesus himself saw it that way. Is it an external interpretation, or did Jesus really believe that that was his purpose?

"My other thought is that you need to expand your understanding of salvation. Your reading 20th century individualism on top of the biblical witness."

I have a huge issue with the "Faith vs Works" debate. I know that James described faith without works is empty, something I agree with because I think Jesus should be much more than simply a Get-Out-of-Jail (Hell)-Free card. You know, a Lord's Prayer and a little confession as you lay dying and you're good to go. Pentecostals and born-again Christians do this as well: You claim to love Jesus, vote to disenfranchise the poor and spread xenophobia to Uganda and you're doing just fine. It makes Jesus look cheap, which goes back to what you said in your first paragraph.

For myself? I honestly have no idea. I don't see the difference between Heaven and Hell. One's a dull dystopia in which nothing ever happens or changes (my idea of Heaven is similar to Lois Lowry's The Giver), and the other is eternal hellfire. I'll have neither. I do know that if I had a choice, I would like to have my heart weighed against a feather by Anubis. That would be cool. But again, I haven't been there, and no one's ever come back with substantial proof, so I can't venture to guess what will happen to me.

"When reading the Old Testament and the New Testament, don't you begin to see the purposes of God?"

I see a character who is entirely new: He has never created anything before, and he really doesn't know what it is that he wants. Most of what he does is reactive: Humans do X, so he counteracts with Y. Only when he takes it upon himself to rescue the Israelites from Egypt does he take a proactive step. Everything else is reactive to human behavior. I think through the course of the story he has an indication of what it is he wants, but I don't think he really knows exactly what he wants until Job teaches him about Justice.

There is another, more pressing question here, though: Once God knows what he wants, can he get it? The least we can say about God is that he certainly always learns from his mistakes, but much like our immense education reforms, much of what he does doesn't get him much closer to his goal and usually creates new problems.

People say that we were created in His image, but I think this is true to a degree most people aren't comfortable with :)