Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Hebrews 9: 24-28 -- 18 November 2012

 

One of the many things I appreciate about this congregation, is your openness to other religious and spiritual traditions.  Many of you have knowledge and expertise decades beyond mine in the ways of Eastern Religions, Yoga, Tai Chi, aboriginal spirituality, European mysticism and the like, and it informs your faith lives in complex and varied ways.  Furthermore, the extensive world travels of many of you have moved this relationship with other faiths and other peoples out of the theoretical realm, and into real-live person-to-person relationships. In a world where religious divisions have many parts of the world, including the middle east, in the grips of war and economic aggression, any effort we make to reach out to other religious or spiritual traditions is to be embraced as a force for good in the world.  

And yet… there are edges where our beliefs are opposed to those of others, and their beliefs contradict ours.    Today’s reading from the book of Hebrews intentionally places itself right in the middle of one of those zones, stating a point of theology that really is THE dividing point between Judaism, and the Christian subgroup that emerged from it.

We have so much in common with our Jewish sisters and brothers.  Virtually all of what is regarded as sacred scripture in Judaism is also regarded as sacred in Christianity.  Both of us embrace one God, whom we experience as both the transcendent creator of the universe, and the life-force that we experience with each breath. We both have foundational stories in which God intervenes in the usual course of nature – the Hebrew people’s escape from Egypt, and the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Both Jews and Christians have a sense that God expects much of us in our treatment of the poor and the marginalized, since the welfare of the downtrodden is at the very heart of God (as heard this morning in the Song of Hannah, 1 Samuel 2:1-10, and later reflected in Mary’s Magnificat).

Culturally, we as Christians have much to be ashamed of in the treatment of Jews, from the ghettoes of the 13th century to the holocaust of the 20th , of that there is no doubt.  But from a purely theological standpoint – how we understand ourselves in relationship with God and the world – there is far more that we share, than separates us.  We are truly one Judaeo-Christian tradition.   

So why are our faiths so separate?  Why do I see lots of eastern tradition drifting into Christian practice, but very little cross-pollination between these two faiths that have grown up in the same plant?  Perhaps this is a western Canadian thing - I think there might be more Jewish influence on Christian thought and practice in eastern Canada, but here in the west I see us admiring Jewish cultural traditions and having some great personal friendships, but I don’t hear as much popular migration of theological influences from Judaism to Christianity as I hear from eastern or aboriginal religious traditions.    

For a very articulate description of the Jewish-Christian gap, I turn to one of my academic heroes, professor John Bright.  John Bright was a biblical scholar par excellence.  He wrote a towering book called “A History of Israel” in 1959 and it remains one of THE standard reference works for understanding the world of Hebrew Scripture. At the end of his brilliant, fair-minded book, Professor Bright (pp. 463-464) asks the key question: once we reach the end of the Hebrew Scriptures, what did they understand to be the destination of the Jewish faith from there?  He gives a two-fold answer, and I’m going to leave it in the masculine language of the good professor’s day:

“The history of Israel would continue in the history of the Jewish people, a people claimed by the God of Israel to live under his law to the last generation of mankind.  To the Jew, therefore, …the hope of the Old Testament is to him a thing yet unfulfilled, indefinitely deferred, to be eagerly awaited by some, given up by others (for Jews are probably no more of one mind where eschatology is concerned than are Christians).  Thus the Jewish answer [is that] Israel’s history does continue as Judaism.

“But there is another answer, the one the Christian gives, and must give.  It is likewise historically legitimate, for Christianity did in fact spring from [Judaism at that time].  That answer is that the destination of Old Testament history and theology is Christ and his gospel.  It declares that Christ is the awaited and decisive intrusion of God’s redemptive power into human history and the turning point of the ages, and that in him there is given both the righteousness that fulfills the law and the sufficient fulfillment of Israel’s hope.

I first read that epilogue nearly 30 years ago, and the late professor’s question still haunts me. How do we, as Christians, approach the completely different Messianic understandings of Christianity and Judaism?  How do we, as heirs of the Judaeo-Christian tradition, dialogue with our Jewish sisters and brothers with honesty and respect, given the divergence of our traditions from this very point?

Each Sunday, the lectionary, or table of bible lessons, gives us four readings.  Typically, I pick two of those for our Sunday morning focus, sometimes just one. For the past six weeks, the folks at lectionary central have felt compelled to give us preachers a series of nearly-identical readings from the book of Hebrews which draw pointed distinctions between the repetitive Jewish sacrificial practices, and the once-and-for-all sacrificial death of Jesus Christ.  Following the direction of my seminary profs, when you see something in scripture that you’d rather not deal with, that is precisely the point that needs to be explored - and so my skirting-of-issue comes to an end this morning.  

At least six times between chapters 7 and 10, Hebrews makes this point about outmoded priestly practices being replaced by Jesus, and while there are slight differences each time the point is made, it does get really repetitive. Preaching these chapters as a sermon, it’s as if the author of Hebrews is intentionally droning on, repeating his point until it irritates his audience and then coyly asks the rhetorical question, “are you getting bored yet? Are you? Well good!  Because in the old approach to sin, every sin needed to be paid for by a specific sacrifice, and it did get terribly repetitive: you sin, you sacrifice, you sin, you sacrifice, you sin, you sacrifice, you sin, you sacrifice. But for the author of Hebrews, Jesus is the one and only sacrifice, offered once and for all.  No additional sacrifices needed, the cycle is broken.”

Do we sense a bit of superiority in the way this is presented?  Yes, we do.  But I do need to raise three points that help us frame what Hebrews is saying.

First, the writer is not standing at a street corner in Jerusalem, looking at the priests offering sacrifices and wagging a judgmental finger at them.  No, by the time Hebrews was written it’s almost a certainty that the Temple had been destroyed.  He was looking back, perhaps 1800-1900 years back at the days when the sacrificial rules were being set.  His argument was not so much, “look at these silly Jewish people and their useless sacrifices” – it was more a fundamental statement about any system in which people think they are alienated from God unless they perform a specific ritual action.  He would probably have been as critical of high Christian understandings of communion or baptism.  The writer of Hebrews looked at Jesus and said, no matter what payment you think God needs when you stumble and fall, it’s already been looked after.  Do not live in the past, live fully in the present and move into God’s wonderful future for you.

Second, while he uses the ancient Jewish sacrificial system as his workbench for making his point, the author of Hebrews would have to have been aware that many of the early Jesus people did not fully understand the forgiveness of sins in Christ Jesus.  This was a common theological issue, for Jews and Christians! Hear these words from the apostle Paul, in the 5th and 6th chapters of Romans: “God’s kindness now rules, and God has accepted us because of Jesus Christ our Lord.  This means that we will have eternal life.  What then should we say? Should we keep on sinning, so that God’s wonderful kindness will show up even better?  No, we should not! ... In the same way, you must think of yourselves as dead to the power of sin.  But Christ Jesus has given life to you, and you live for God”. (Rom 5:21 – 6:11, CEV)  This is one of the great biblical statements about God’s gracious forgiveness: as Christians, however we believe what was done on the cross, we are to live with the assurance that we cannot save ourselves from the dirty little corners of our lives, or the big regrettable actions of our society.  We come in humility to Christ Jesus, say “thank you”, and that is enough.  It is the power of God working in us, and not some self-generated force of goodness, that brings us new life in Christ.

And third, especially from a United Church pulpit, I have to acknowledge that not all Christ-followers have any relationship with this salvation theology.  For many liberal Christians, Jesus is a great teacher, a powerful reformer, a mystical presence in times of trouble, but the equations of sin and forgiveness, cross and resurrection, and “entry requirements” for heaven, are less certain or less central. Similarly, while the idea of a Messiah coming to restore the nation of Israel was quite widespread in the days of Christ, it wasn’t followed by everyone, and over the centuries this messianic thinking has diminished substantially within Jewish thought.  We need to remember that the writer of Hebrews only knew what he knew: he could not foretell what would happen between Jews and Christians and their respective Messianic beliefs in the generations to follow. 

Generally, I try to have a specific tie-in between the scripture reading, and life as it unfolds in our time and place.  Today, I’m afraid that the topic at hand has needed a more purely doctrinal approach so the daily implications are not quite so practical.  But I will say this: in our relations with sisters and brothers of other faiths, there are places where we differ.  Sometimes it’s just the details on which we disagree; other times, the disagreements are big, even life-and-death.  As northern hemisphere Christians, we are fortunate, very fortunate: we are generally able to deal with these differences with a shrug of the shoulders and a vocalized, “live and let live”.  But I do encourage you (1) to be clear on what Christ Jesus means to you, (2) to have a means of articulating the divine mystery of a God who is intensely personal and wonderfully ethereal, (3) to know what ethical behaviours are inspired within you by the power of the Holy Spirit.  Three decades of interacting with people of other faiths has taught me that only when I am clear about what I believe as a Christian, am I truly able to listen respectfully to the beliefs of people of other faiths.  The book of Hebrews details a fork in the road that appeared nearly 2000 years ago, between those who were still awaiting the Messiah, and those who believed he had already come and would be coming again.  That is a big, and perhaps irreconcilable difference in our basic theologies, no matter how we frame it.

We must accept that difference in our beliefs, and move on in our relationships.  Sometimes, as this summer when the United Church of Canada joined many large American denominations in calling for an end to specific actions of the State of Israel in the West Bank, we have said some blunt things that may have been taken personally by our Jewish friends.  But even having said these things, we can honestly say that the formal relationship between Jewish and Christian entities in Canada is one of friendship, and that is a good thing.

In closing, the last word goes to professor John Bright:

“So it is that Old Testament history ultimately places one before a decisive question.  And that question is [the question from Jesus to his disciples]: “Who do you say that I am?... It is on this question, fundamentally, that the Christian and his Jewish friend divide.  Let us pray that they do so in love and mutual concern, as heirs of the same heritage of faith who worship the same God, who is [Creator and ] Father of us all.”

Reference cited:

Bright, John.  A History of Israel. Philadelphia: Westminster.  3rd ed, 1981.


Also, see an excellent article by Susan Eastman, an assistant prof at Duke Seminary:
http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?lect_date=11/8/2009

For more regarding North American Church statements about Israel’s activity in the West Bank, see http://www.nytimes.com/2012/10/21/us/church-appeal-on-israel-angers-jewish-groups.html?_r=0 and www.gc41.ca

 

© 2012 Rev Greg Wooley, Ralph Connor Memorial United Church, Canmore AB

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