This is the first of what might end up being two posts on Chapter 4 of Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus, which I am reading and writing about for Lent. It's a really long chapter, but it contains some very exciting ideas, well, I think they're exciting, as it continues to unpack the lost meanings in the Shema, and other words in the ancient Hebrew language.
This chapter is exploring the idea of loving your neighbor -- something we, in America at least, seem to have a lot of trouble with these days. The opening quote (to give you an idea about what's to come) is this: "In everyone there is something of his fellow man ... Hence, 'love your neighbor' -- for he is really you yourself." (Rabbi Moses Cordovero). I don't know who that rabbi is but he an astute and wise man. We do have a tendency to feel threatened by seeing something of ourselves in someone else, or sometimes we dislike something of ourselves when we see it in someone else. So to cover up that which we dislike in ourselves, we project that trait or habit onto someone else and tear into that person for it. Really dumb, when you think about it.
Jesus told us to love God with your very. Then he told us that another command is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. We take it to mean we should love others in the same way we love ourselves. This book suggest that it may mean something similar, but fundamentally different: We should love others BECAUSE they are like us -- in other words, when we see that reflection of ourselves in someone else, we should love that other person for that very reason. Love each other because of our commonality.
And that is what community is all about, yes?
The early Christians were all about community. They not only gathered together and lived as a community, sharing what they had and helping those who needed it. What is less well known, according to this author, is that they also remained a vital and active part of the greater Jewish community at the same time, worshiping daily in the Temple and maintaining a visible presence in their communities. This enabled them to act as powerful witnesses to what they had received from Jesus, attracting new Christians and growing their new community.
Here's what gets really interesting. It seems that it only took a few centuries for Christians to lose that strong sense of community, replacing it with an emphasis on individual piety and private devotion. By AD 400, apparently, many Christians believed the path to God was a solitary one. This was reflected in the rise of cloistered communities, hermits and such.
We can still see this today in the protestant Christian emphasis on the importance of a "personal relationship with God." In the Catholic church, which is far more community-oriented that many Protestant churches, our new translation for the Nicene Creed reverts to "I believe" after having been recited for decades as "We believe." I felt sad about this the first time I saw it.
In contrast, certain Jewish prayers can only be recited in the presence of a minyan -- a group that contains at least 10 adult Jewish men. Those prayers are framed entirely as "we" and "our" rather than "I" and "my."
But back to the language that's being unpacked. The author was surprised to learn that both "love" commands originate in the Torah, which Jesus was citing when he answered those who questioned him -- Deuteronomy 6:5, to be precise, and Leviticus 19:18. Both share (in the original Hebrew, not in the translations we are familiar with) the word ve'ahavta ("and you shall love"). One of their words requires four of ours to make a comparable statement. What Jesus did, however, was more than simply reciting Scripture (of course). He used a rabbinic rule called gezerah sheva ("a comparison of equals"). These two verses, it seems, share a common word (see above) that's found only in a couple of other places in Scripture, which leads one to assume that one is expanding on the other. Thus, Jesus took it a step further and told us that loving God requires (and is best expressed) through loving our neighbors.
So loving each other is really loving God. (Disclaimer: The following is my own observation and not from the book) This is consistent with something else Jesus said: Whatever you do unto the least of these brethren, you do it to me. (paraphrased). He was referring to such basic kindnesses as feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoner, that sort of thing. In other words, the way we treat each other truly reflects the way we would treat God. Or, in more familiar terms, actions speak louder than words. I heard that from my parents a lot when I was growing up. I didn't get it then, but I sure do now.
The next idea in Chapter 4 is the Golden Rule. The Golden Rule takes a slightly different view of the love command: Treat others the way you would like to be treated by them. I think the Golden Rule has been distorted somewhat these days, so that now it's viewed more like "Treat others the way they are treating you." How else can we explain the mean ways people interact these days?
That's enough for today. I'll finish the chapter tonight and maybe post some more on this in the very near future.
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