In 1988, my first yr as a Jesuit novice in Boston, I spied a slim paperback book on the shelf of the novitiate library with a wierd title on its cover: Jesus Before Christianity.
At first, I couldn’t get my mind around what seemed a bizarre notion: How could Jesus exist before Christianity? Such was my understanding of the Christian faith that the concept seemed threatening, even dangerous. However the blurb on the quilt, from the famous theologian Harvey Cox, called it “Probably the most accurate and balanced short reconstruction of the lifetime of the historical Jesus.” I used to be hooked.
As a novice, I knew zero concerning the quest for the “historical Jesus,” the scholarly (and pastoral) project that tries to know as much as we will concerning the life and times of Jesus of Nazareth and considers which of his words and deeds might be traced on to him and which could have been embellished, and even added, by the evangelists. Mainly, though, the hope is to know as much as possible concerning the “Jesus of history.”
To my mind, the search to know the historical Jesus is important for followers of the Christ of religion—in other words, Christians. And why wouldn’t you would like to know more about Jesus of Nazareth?
I also didn’t know anything about Albert Nolan, O.P., a distinguished Dominican priest, author and theologian, who was well-known in his native South Africa for his dedication to human rights (something made clear in his book). Father Nolan, I discovered after his death, was once elected because the master general of the Dominicans but declined the position since it might have taken him away from South Africa during a time of volcanic change. His little book captivated me. And it’s not a stretch to say that it modified my life. When you had asked me as a novice about Jesus’ humanity, I’d have said, “In fact I think that Jesus is human.” I knew that God had develop into human and had “dwelt” amongst us, as John’s Gospel said.
But until reading Jesus Before Christianity, which plunges the reader into the roiling social and political world of first-century Galilee and Judea, I didn’t grasp the importance of understanding what Jesus was reacting to. His book—short, accessible, inviting—placed special emphasis on Jesus’ ministry to the poor and marginalized, and described the conditions of such suffering people in those days. However it was, because the blurb suggested, the “reconstruction” of Jesus’ world that I discovered, in a word, thrilling.
Toward the start of the book, Father Nolan offers this tantalizing invitation:
If we read fastidiously between the lines of the 4 gospels and if we make full use of the data available concerning the contemporary situation, we will have the option to uncover an amazing deal of historical details about Jesus. This is feasible because, although the gospels were written for a later generation, they make use of sources that return to Jesus and his contemporaries. In lots of places it’s even possible to capture the precise words utilized by Jesus and retrace exactly what he did (his ipsissima vox et facta.)
What? I believed. It’s? “Reading between the lines,” in addition to uncovering “historical details about Jesus” and even reading his “exact words” sounded irresistible: a sleuthing that might not only be fun but help me come to know Jesus higher.
Jesus Before Christianity began me on a lifelong quest to learn as much as I could concerning the historical Jesus. And that quest continues today. Such quests are sometimes denigrated as contrary to faith. Why? Mainly because study of the historical Jesus is placed into false contrast with devotion to the “Christ of religion,” the one who has risen from the dead and is alive to us through the Holy Spirit. But after all the “Jesus of history” and the “Christ of religion” are one and the identical.
As a scholar, Msgr. Meier was nothing if not thorough but in addition honest about what that he could reasonably conclude got here from the historical Jesus and what didn’t.
The risen Christ, because the Recent Testament scholar Stanley Marrow, S.J., wrote in his commentary on John’s Gospel, was “recognizably and identifiably the Jesus of Nazareth, the person whom the disciples knew and followed. For him to have risen as some other than the Jesus of Nazareth that they knew would void the resurrection of all its meaning.”
So, to my mind, the search to know the historical Jesus is important for followers of the Christ of religion—in other words, Christians. And why wouldn’t you would like to know more about Jesus of Nazareth? Besides, the search for the historical Jesus—which attracts on the work of biblical scholars who help us understand the writing of the Gospels; archeologists who help us understand each day life in first-century Galilee and Palestine, and historians who help us understand the political and social milieu of the day—is fascinating.
Father Nolan’s book led me to the equally fascinating work of Msgr. John P. Meier, a priest of the Archdiocese of Recent York who had taught at St. Joseph’s Seminary in Recent York, the Catholic University of America and at last on the University of Notre Dame. During his lifetime, Msgr. Meier might need been accurately called the dean of historical Jesus studies. His colossal, magisterial, multivolume series, A Marginal Jew, was a mountain of research and scholarship that I desired to climb. However it turned out to not be a lot a forbidding mountain as a good looking valley to explore.
In his first volume, Rethinking the Historical Jesus: The Roots of the Problem and the Person, he set out his goal, imagining an interfaith scholarly group examining the Gospels:
For example what a historical, as distinct from a theological, investigation of Jesus must involve, I actually have proposed the fantasy of the “unpapal conclave”: a Catholic, a Protestant, a Jew, and an agnostic—all honest historians cognizant of 1st-century religious movements—are locked up within the bowels of the Harvard Divinity School library, placed on a spartan weight loss program, and never allowed to emerge until they’ve hammered out a consensus document on Jesus of Nazareth.
To satisfy that imaginary conclave meant that Msgr. Meier had to look at each saying, deed and miracle of Jesus with utmost care. Consequently, the scholarly density of his series, five volumes up to now (he was working on a sixth when he died), could be a challenge. But despite its countless citations, footnotes and frequent digressions, I discovered it fascinating, with insights and “aha” moments on almost every page.
Each volume of A Marginal Jew can at times feel overly focused on one or two points: Most of Volume 4, Law and Love, is nearly entirely focused on Jesus’ teaching on divorce (which he judges to be among the many most definitely to return to the historical Jesus). But for essentially the most part, the eye paid to the passages under Msgr. Meier’s exegetical microscope seemed not obsessive but appropriately exhaustive. As a scholar, he was nothing if not thorough but in addition honest about what that he could reasonably conclude got here from the historical Jesus and what didn’t. Often, he would reach the conclusion of Non liquet. Not clear.
I used to be not only stuffed with gratitude for his or her work but with joy that these two great scholars, who of their other ways had brought so many individuals into contact with Jesus, would now encounter him nose to nose.
But to see Msgr. Meier’s work as designed just for scholars could be incorrect. (It might be equally incorrect to see Father Nolan’s work as insufficiently academic.) Due to his effortless command of the fabric, in addition to his own obvious faith, Msgr. Meier may be as accessible as Father Nolan. In his chapter on Lazarus, which I’ve been reviewing currently, he makes a good looking commentary about Jesus’ “signs” in John’s Gospel (a.k.a. miracles):
In all these signs there may be a standard underlying element. In every sign Jesus gives, on the physical level, some form of fuller, more joyful or safer life to people whose lives were in a roundabout way constricted, saddened, or threatened.
As was Father Nolan, Msgr. Meier, the historical Jesus scholar, was also a follower of the Christ of religion.
I never met Father Nolan, but I probably read Jesus Before Christianity 10 times, essentially the most recent on a retreat this summer. It stays fresh and exciting, especially his insights on the poor. I corresponded with Msgr. Meier over time and at last met him at an America lecture in 2015. He was also gracious enough to reply questions that I had while writing Jesus: A Pilgrimage, which relied heavily on his work, and he reviewed the manuscript before publication. Later, I used to be delighted when the book made it right into a footnote of his next volume. I joked with him that even sans Ph.D., I felt I had “made it” academically.
Each men died this week, and at their deaths I had the identical thought of them each. I used to be not only stuffed with gratitude for his or her work but with joy that these two great scholars, who of their other ways had brought so many individuals into contact with Jesus, would now encounter him “nose to nose,” as Paul said. Now, within the fullness of time, they’ve had all their questions answered, all their confusions cleared up and all their hopes fulfilled. Nothing is non liquet. All is obvious.
