Saturday, January 7, 2012

Athens and Jerusalem


I recently read John Joseph's Collins’ Between Athens and Jerusalem, in preparation for a New Testament course I'll be teaching in a few weeks. Collin's book is a study of the attempts of the Jewish Diaspora to offer an apologetic for their faith in a Greek environment during the inter-testament period (@200 BC to 100 AD), particularly in Alexandria. He analyses a number of pseudo-graphical and apocryphal texts from the period, with some references to Philo.

Let me try to summarize, though I run the risk of over-simplifying: the Greek thinking class in Egypt during the Ptolemaic period was philosophical and in pursuit of the good life based on reason. Many of them leaned towards monotheism and were fairly moral. Jewish thinkers, who were driven by a need to be accepted in the culture, assumed Greek categories and attempted to mold their own tradition into those. Therefore the Torah was presented as a superior philosophy, and obedience to the commandments was a means to discovering the “good, the true, and the beautiful.” Traditions that made the Jews unique, such as circumcision and dietary laws, were played down or not mentioned at all.

How successful Jewish apologetic writings actually were is debatable. Collins believes that much of the attempt involved preaching to the choir. There was always the issue of whether Jews should be included in the Greek upper and middle classes, or in the Egyptian lower class. The former was generally true under the Ptolemies, the latter under Roman rule. While there were notable conversions to Judaism during the period, most apologetic literature was designed to help the Jew define his own place in the society while holding to his traditions.

This is a fascinating period of history that has led me up a number of rabbit trails that may or may not be relevant. Follow if you wish.

First, it is easy in hindsight to condemn the Jewish writers of this period for blatant syncretism. The Hasidim and the Pharisees in Palestine certainly thought so. We see a result of this in the conflict between Greek and Aramaic speaking Christians in the early church. But syncretism is always easier to spot from outside a culture than within it. Consider the overlap of the “American Way of Life” and Christianity in our own time. We are far too close to both to untangle them. Perhaps we need African and Asian eyes to gain perspective.

Second, those centuries are in some ways a microcosm of western civilization (even down to our day) which can be defined in terms of the relationship of Hellenism and Hebraism. In an essay by that name in Culture and Anarchy, Matthew Arnold defined both: “The uppermost idea of Hellenism is to see things as they really are; the uppermost idea of Hebraism is conduct and obedience.” Both seek to attain salvation, one by right thinking, the other by right action.

Arnold saw the Renaissance of the 14th and 15th Centuries as the rediscovery of Hellenism in what was a Hebraic culture, followed by a Hebraic reaction in the Reformation, followed by the twin antagonists--the Enlightenment and Puritanism, both of which influenced our American founding documents. We’ve never quite settled whether our founding fathers were Christians or humanists. I’ve read books assigning them to both categories, written with great conviction and copious footnotes. My favorite was the tongue-in-cheek wag who gave up and described them as “Evangelical, Bible-believing deists.” My point here is not to discredit one or the other, but to suggest that both are alive and well with us, and are still intertwined in our culture, mirrored in our “conservative” and “liberal” terminology.

Third: “Morph” is an interesting new word in the American vocabulary. It has a more sinister tone than “metamorphasize.” One thinks of shape changers and zombies. It conveys the idea of change, not usually for the better. It also conveys the notion that that which “morphs” contains within itself the seed of its own change, usually for the worse, though I suppose something can morph “up.” It has a fatalistic tone. Anyway--after that digression--I was struck in Collins’ book with how both Hellenism and Hebraism morph into other forms through history.

For instance, Collins spends a good deal of time on the transition in Greek thought from rationalism to mysticism, how even in Plato there is a personification of philosophy that leads to the exaltation of the logos or sophia. There is a steady progression from the pursuit of pure Forms to the chain of being that leads to Light in later Gnosticism. Some Jewish writers of the period capitalized on this “ascent” and equated the Light with the Giver of Torah. This “morphing” from reason to secret revelation of the divine (from science to alchemy) reoccurs in history. Consider modern rationalistic evolutionists whose description of the life force (elan vital) is loaded with so much awe that it borders on worship. Whew. I’m not sure I can go any further with that.

But having gone there, I suppose it’s necessary to ask if Hebraism can morph. Pure Hebraism, in my mind, was never really meant to be a religion of salvation by law, but of love and grace, as the believer was forced by his failures in his duties to seek for supernatural intervention. Consider that while Psalm 119 is packed with synonyms for “commandment,” it is equally packed with imperatives like “teach me.” “revive me,” “open my eyes.” Without this craving for grace, Hebraism becomes self-righteous legalism, which is exactly what it morphs into. The church is certainly no stranger to it.

So, I suppose, as Hellenism and Hebraism morph into their mature forms, thinking westerners will be confronted with either mysticism or legalism, a poor choice.

Fourth: Let me at this point speak as a Christian, since we are dealing with world-views that deal with salvation. The problem with Hellenism and Hebraism, rationalism and action, mysticism and legalism, is that they all involve human effort in the attainment of whatever “salvation” might mean, whether it be eternal life or a peaceful existence in this one. Even Matthew Arnold, whose bias is definitely towards Hellenism, admits that both views ignore the sinfulness of sin. Reason is both finite and twisted. Dutiful action before God is always tainted with subtle self-centeredness. Both fail to deliver what they promise.

I would like to be able to say that Christianity offers a way out. But the fact is that Christianity has been as influenced by Hellenism and Hebraism as any institution in western culture. The Alexandrian school of Christianity continued the allegorical method of Philo, and I am not sure whether the Roman Church has yet decided whether Origen was a heretic. Synergistic legalism has created long lists of do’s and don’ts that rival the Pharisaic code of Jesus’ day. Christianity can almost be defined by its relationship to Hellenism and Hebraism (or their conflict) in any point of its history.

So instead of considering Christianity, let‘s consider its Head. There we begin to get some light. At that point the issue becomes one of soteriology. If my reason is flawed, how do I find wisdom? If I am cursed with pride and selfishness, where do I find the power to fulfill my duty? And here we move from ideas to direction--Hellenism and Hebraism both call me up. But the glory of the Gospel is that God comes down. Wisdom comes to me. Power to obey comes to me. God takes the initiative in a world that has exhausted its own. The embodiment of all that Hellenism and Hebraism ever wished to be becomes incarnate in a world that cannot find up. The truth is backwards.

“Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek after wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.”

-1 Corinthians 1:20-25 (ESV)

2 comments:

  1. Dear Sir,

    this is the first time I have read your blog. I found this one very insightful and useful. The distinction between Athens and Jerusalem, whose discovery changed Pascal's life, I think is a very important lens through which to understand the tensions in contemporary western culture. Thank you. KT

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  2. Interestingly, 3 years ago I had a professor complaining about the evil white men from Athens that has so messed up western civilization. She was a FemiNazi. We had to keep a journal in our class and I pointed out, in this 75 page journal, that the three major seats of power were Athens, Mecca, and Jerusalem emphasizing the three major "religions" that actually had the progressive timeline needed for both progress and dominion: humanism/atheism/statism/communism/naziism/socialism, Christianity, and Mohammedism. These 3 are vying for power and one will/has won, Christianity. Post modern (existential) professors such as my own know nothing of Jerusalem in world of history or of Mecca and their understanding is darkened by...their own understanding. It was fun to play with the three seats of power for 75 pages. I was surprised to get an A from this humanistic/pro lesbian/anti-Christian/ narrow minded and typical UT professor whom I actually get along fine with on a personal basis. When I read, "One thinks of shape changers and zombies." I automatically thought of MaObummer, the great zer0 but my mind quickly flitted toward the flip-flopper, Willard. Ultimately, in politics, I refer to the 2 as a unity known as Robomaney...probably more a shape changer than zombie.

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