Saturday, July 11, 2026

Who was Jesus the Jew? The Historical Jesus vs. the Theological/Philosophical Jesus: A Starting Point

The Historical Jesus 

    The Biblical scholar and historian, Bart D. Ehrman writes of the Jew, that, specifically out of all the possible Christian canonical accounts, “[…] John’s is the only Gospel in which Jesus is explicitly identified as divine."¹ Interestingly, the common terminology, “the son of God” did not privilege one to divine status within the historical and religious Jewish context. As Ehrman writes, “To be sure, he is called the Son of God in all the Gospels. But to ancient Jews, being the ‘son of God’ did not make a person God; it made the person a human being in a close relationship with God, one through whom God does his will on earth.”² Ehrman started out like most of us raised in a culturally-Christian or corrupted-“Christian” (one might even say, imperialist-Christian) America. Bart D. Ehrman was an evangelical Christian who went to the renown conservative Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, which he thought was sufficient at the time, however, this is all reminiscent of a prior time, to his now longstanding identity-status as an agnostic.³ And if any of the readers here, have come from that kind of community, we have all heard, if not the—a variation of the—conservative philosophical/theological C.S. Lewis argument about the "ontology" of Jesus, or more specifically the Divinity of Jesus, where he gives the apologetic argument that Jesus was either a liar, a lunatic, or the Lord God himself. Ehrman discusses how when he was an evangelical, he used to find the following argument compelling: 

In Lewis’s formulation, since Jesus had called himself God, there were only three logical possibilities: he was either a liar, a lunatic, or the Lord. Lewis’s thinking was that if Jesus was wrong in his claim—if he was not God—either he knew it or he did not know it. If he knew that he was not God but claimed he was, then he was a liar. If he was not God but genuinely thought he was, then he was [deluded, insane], a lunatic. The only other choice would be that he was right in what he claimed, in which case he really was the Lord. […] Lewis goes on to argue that there are all sorts of reasons for thinking that Jesus was neither a liar nor a lunatic. The inevitable conclusion was that he must have been who he claimed to be. Jesus was the Lord God.

Ehrman articulates that this argument was compelling when he was younger, and especially at Moody, but at some point, the argument no longer contained its vivacious force: 

I had come to see that the very premise of Lewis’s argument was flawed. The argument based on Jesus as liar, lunatic, or Lord was predicated on the assumption that Jesus had called himself God. I had long ago come to believe that he had not. Only in the latest of our Gospels, John, a Gospel that shows considerably more theological sophistication than the others, does Jesus indicate that he is divine. I had come to realize that none of our earliest traditions indicates that Jesus said any such thing about himself. And surely if Jesus had really spent his days in Galilee and the Jerusalem calling himself God, all of our sources would be eager to report it. To put it differently, if Jesus claimed he was divine, it seemed very strange indeed that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all failed to say anything about it.

Thus, from a strictly historical perspective, (and not a theological or philosophical one), Ehrman concludes that “Jesus probably never called himself God.” So, essentially, what historical data that scholars and historians do have that can be inferred historically (which is not much), is that commonly stated assertion cannot be made. Said another way, one cannot infer from the historical lens (with a certain degree of probable reasoning) that Jesus the Jew, placed himself on par with the Divine according to Ehrman. Anything that was asserted in cannons, such as the Gospel of John, (which came much later) would have involved theological or philosophical sophistication about Jesus, which can have value, but these cannot be evaluated strictly from a historical criterion.

Reading this recently, this conclusion was no surprise for me. However, for evangelicals or Biblical “inerrantists” that assertion, and the following section may come as a shock. As the modern scholar knows, (and perhaps the lay person knows, as far as the immediate incoming), there are four Gospels in the New Testament, (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) and these four together, aid in painting a picture of Jesus the Christ and/or Jesus the person from a historical view. However, naturally, they are not without problems. They are riddled with various piecemeal accounts--in a similar way that modern testimonies manifest from the general public as they are documented after witnessing a person’s life, and/or a traumatic event, but several decades later. Watch any missing person mystery that happened in the 70s, where historians and investigators try and go to gather data. Thus, as Ehrman writes, “The problem is in part that the Gospels are full of discrepancies and were written decades after Jesus’ ministry and death by authors who had not themselves witnessed any of the events of Jesus’s life.” So, this presents one difficulty in attempting to gather historical data on the Jew known as Jesus, or the Jew known as the Christ. 

But what are historians even looking for anyway, and what kind of sources count as credible historical sources? The complete response to this is rigorous. However, one place to start is the following paragraph by Ehrman:

If scholars had their wish, they would have lots of sources; the more the better, since some or all of them might give skewed accounts. These sources should be contemporary with the events they describe, not based on later hearsay. They should include reports by disinterested people, not simply biased accounts. The sources are best if they are independent from one another, so that you know their authors haven’t collaborated in coming up with a story. And yet they should be consistent and confirm what the others say, providing corroboration without collaboration.

So, this raises the question, (which we have already answered in part) and that is, “What sources do we have for Jesus?” And this is the “historical Jesus” right, not a theological, or philosophical Jesus, of course. Well, the obvious answer, is that we have the four Gospels that we have talked about briefly, and that is helpful to an extent, but as is echoed in my earlier concerns Ehrman writes:

But they are not written by eyewitnesses who were contemporary with the events they narrate. They were written thirty-five to sixty-five years after Jesus’s death by people who did not know him, did not see anything he did or hear anything that he taught, people who spoke a different language from his and lived in a different country from him. The accounts they produced are not disinterested; they are narrative produced by Christians who actually believed in Jesus, and therefore were not immune from slanting the stories in light of their biases. They are not completely free of collaboration, since Mark was used as a source for Matthew and Luke. And rather than being fully consistent with one another, they are widely inconsistent, with discrepancies filling their pages, both contradictions in details and divergent large-scale understandings of who Jesus was. […] How can sources like this be used to reconstruct the life of the historical Jesus? It’s not easy, but there are ways.¹⁰

While it may not be easy to get a historical picture of Jesus the Jew, Ehrman reiterates that there are ways. So, what ways could we get anything of value out of this? Perhaps, it is best to start, with understanding how the most predominantly utilized texts that mention Jesus were formulated, or at least, when and how they show their historical origin.

Naturally, like the genesis of most religions, there was an oral tradition that circulated prior to their documentation. These stories would have maintained during the life of Jesus obviously, but specifically, from the time of Jesus’s crucifixion, the stories would have accelerated and proliferated (and certainly did) up until the point they were recorded in written form. As to the written aspect, there is not certainty in pinning them down, however, “[e]ven though it is very hard to date the Gospels with precision, most scholars agree on the basic range of dates, for a variety of reasons. Without going into all the details, I can say that we know with relative certainty—from his own letters and from Acts—that Paul was writing during the fifties of the common era.”¹¹ Ehrman gives good reasons to support this concerning Paul's writings ("Acts" and his Letters). “[Paul] was well-traveled in Christian circles, and he gives in his own writings absolutely no evidence of knowing about or ever having heard of the existence of any Gospels. From this it can be inferred that the Gospels probably were written after Paul’s day.”¹² Obviously, given Paul’s devotion, he would have referenced them if he could, if anything about the ethos of Paul is historically correct. Another aspect, that is important concerning dating the texts that discuss Jesus that serve historical interest, is that there are other factors that enable historians and scholars to infer the time period. “It also appears that the Gospel writers know about certain later historical events, such as the destruction of Jerusalem in the year 70 CE (possibly Mark, in 13:1; almost certainly Luke, in 21:20-22). That implies that these Gospel writers know about certain later historical events, were probably written after the year 70.”¹³ Due to a Biblical scholar’s historical research and rigor concerning the evidence, “[t]here are reasons for thinking Mark was written first, so maybe he wrote around the time of the war with Rome, 70 CE. If Matthew and Luke both used Mark as a source, they must have been composed after Mark’s Gospel circulated for a time outside its own originating community—say, ten or fifteen years later, in 80 to 85 CE.”¹⁴ And as we have stated, John is said to be one of the more theologically developed texts, and also, probably one of the latest developed. “John seems to be the most theologically developed Gospel, and so it was probably written later still, nearer the end of the first century, around 90 to 95 CE. These are rough guesses but most scholars agree on them.”¹⁵

So what does this mean historically for trying to ascertain a conception of the historical Jesus? Well, let's continue, it's too early for that question. So, long before I had heard of Bart D. Ehrman, and ever since I had come to think of the Bible being a composition of multiple books and letters, and even before that--when I learned of it being an oral tradition and maintaining this status for many years before it was recorded in written form, (and yes, of course... this would have been post-evangelical "inerrancy" indoctrination, so in other words, after those shackles had been broken), near immediately when thinking of the "God Breathed" and "inerrant" text before written form, I thought of the kids game "telephone." You know, the game where one kid whispers something into the ear of the person sitting next to them, and by the end of it, the last person attempts to relay the message, and it is completely something ridiculous in the worst case, and is slightly off in the best case, (obviously we are working with the presupposition of error--occasionally we end up with what we started with, but most the time we don't, right)? Well, Bart D. Ehrman also renders this example too. He writes, 

What do you suppose happened to the stories over the years, as they were told and retold, not as disinterested news stories reported by eyewitnesses but as propaganda meant to convert people to faith, told by people who had themselves heard from fifth- or sixth- or nineteenth-hand? Did you or your kids ever play the telephone game at a birthday party? The kids sit in a circle, and one child tells a story to the girl sitting next to her, who tells it to the next girl, who tells it to the next, and so on, until it comes back to the one who first told the story. And it's now a different story. (If it weren't a different story the game would be a bit pointless.) Imagine playing telephone not among a group of kids of the same socioeconomic class from the same neighborhood and same school and of the same age speaking the same language, but imagine playing it for forty or more years, in different countries, in different contexts, in different languages. What happens to the stories? They change. [...] Is it any wonder that the Gospels are so full of discrepancies? John heard different stories than did Mark, and when he heard the same stories he heard them differently. The Gospel writers themselves evidently changed the stories of their sources (remember how Luke changed Mark's account of Jesus going to his death). If things could change that much just from one writer to the next, imagine how much they could change in the oral tradition. [...] One might be tempted to despair at establishing anything historical about Jesus, given the chaotic state of affairs. With sources like these, how can we know anything at all about the historical Jesus?¹⁶

To the committed reader invested in the slightest to the Jesus narrative, just receiving the foregoing data thus far, there may be some anxiety in the air. But to the dogmatic believer, or existentially attached person reading this, don't worry, Ehrman states, "Despair may be a bit premature at this stage. There may be ways to apply rigorous methods of analysis to the sources to get around all the problems they present. One approach is to see whether there are any other sources of information about Jesus outside the Gospels that can be thrown into the mix. As it turns out, there are some sources--but they are not of much use."¹⁷ Historically speaking, Ehrman says, outside of Christianity, there is not much to buttress our historical Jesus endeavor. Greek and Roman sources don't seem to say much about him, in fact Ehrman seems to suggest there is nothing written about him in the first-century. "In no first-century Greek or Roman (pagan) source is Jesus mentioned. [...] Scholars have never been sure what to make of that."¹⁸  

Ehrman however does make note that the first time the historical Jesus is mentioned outside of the narrative Christian texts; he also notes ironically that he was mentioned in a Pagan writing in 112 CE. 

The first time Jesus is mentioned in a pagan source is in the year 112 CE. The author, Pliny the Younger, was a governor of a Roman province. In letter that he wrote to his emperor, Trajan, he indicates that there was a group of people called Christians who were meeting illegally; he wants to know how to handle the situation. These people, he tells the emperor, "worship Christ as a God." That's all he says about Jesus. It's not much to go on if you want to know anything about the historical Jesus."¹⁹ 

 Some more data can be gathered from a friend of Pliny the Younger, and this source comes from the Roman historian Tacitus:

In writing his history of Rome in the year 115, Tacitus mentions the fire, set by Nero, that took place in Rome in 64, for which the emperor blamed "the Christians." Tacitus explains that the Christians get their name from "Christus... who was executed at the hands of the procurator Pontius Pilate in the reign of Tiberius" (Annals 15.44). He goes on to say that the "superstition" of Christianity first appeared in Judea before spreading to Rome. Here at least is some confirmation of what we already knew from the Gospels of Jesus' death at the hands of Pilate. But Tacitus, like Pliny, gives us nothing to go on if we want to know what Jesus really said and did. [...] If we cast our net over all surviving Greek and Roman (pagan) sources for the first hundred years after Jesus' death (30-130 CE), these two brief references are all we find.²⁰

Beyond that, Ehrman says that there are some "non-Christian" religious sources to pull from, that are of Jewish orientation. He says that "...there is one, and only one, that does mention Jesus. This is the famous Jewish historian, Flavius Josephus, who around 90 CE wrote a twenty-volume history of the Jewish people from the time of Adam and Eve down to his own day. In this lengthy book he does not talk about Jesus at great length, but he does refer to him twice. In one reference he simply identifies a man named James as 'the brother of Jesus, who is called the messiah' (Antiquities of the Jews, 20.9.1)."²¹ There is another reference that he makes, but historians seem to find problems with it, doctored, or portions otherwise false, based on what they know of Flavius Josephus. Regarding this example, Ehrman writes: 

The other reference is more extensive, but it is also problematic. In it Josephus seems to confess that he himself is a Christian, but we know from his other works that he was not (he wrote an autobiography, among other things). Scholars have long known that Josephus’s writings were not copied by Jews throughout the Middle Ages, since he was (probably rightly) considered a traitor to the Jewish cause in the disastrous war with Rome in which Jerusalem was destroyed in 70 CE. His writings were copied instead by Christians. And at the point where Josephus discusses Jesus, it appears that a Christian scribe made a few choice insertions, in order to clarify who Jesus really was. I have placed the sections possibly inserted by the scribe in brackets. 

At this time there appeared Jesus, a wise man [if indeed one should call him a man, for] he was a doer of startling deeds, a teacher of people who receive the truth with pleasure. And he gained a following both among many Jews and among many of Greek origin. [He was the Messiah.] And when Pilate, because of an accusation made by the leading men among us, condemned to the cross, those who had loved him previously did not cease to do so. [For he appeared to them on the third day, living again, just as the divine prophets had spoken of these and countless other wondrous things about him.] And up until this very day the tribe of Christians, named after him, has not died out. (Antiquities 18.3.3) ²²

 

Outside of the bracketed likely added components, this does seem to give us a more of a picture of the historical Jesus, and does seem to confirm the philosophic “wise man” and potentially a theological/spiritual component to him, but it still does not give much of the historical Jesus’s life. Ehrman’s analysis of this quote follows: “It is certainly worth knowing that the most prominent Jewish historian of the first century knew at least something about Jesus—specifically that he was a teacher who allegedly did wonderful deeds, had a large following, and was condemned to be crucified by Pontius Pilate. This account confirms some of the most important aspects of Jesus’ life and death as recounted in the Gospels. But it doesn’t indicate exactly what he did or said, or what circumstances led to his accusation and death, even if you include the bracketed comments.”²³ 

Ehrman suggests there are a lot more writings later, but we naturally lose some of the historical credibility considering they are from the second and third centuries and onward. There is nothing else to go on from the first century after Jesus was murdered by the state. Those from the second century and onward, Ehrman says of these, “[…] these other accounts are interesting in the extreme and well worth reading. But they do not, as a rule, provide us with reliable historical information.”²⁴ Ehrman proposes that we might wonder why we can’t just rely on the other texts outside of what is considered "the Gospels" in the New Testament, but the content in these sources don’t provide much insight into the historical Jesus either, unfortunately. Ehrman writes, 

The apostle Paul, for example, talks a lot about Jesus’ death and resurrection, but says very few places he provides confirmation of what the Gospels report: that Jesus was a Jew who ministered to Jews; that he had brothers, one of whom was named James, and twelve disciples. He mentions Jesus’ words at the Last Supper and two other sayings of Jesus: that his followers should not get divorced and that they should pay their preachers. Apart from this Paul doesn’t tell us much. The other writers of the New Testament tell us even less.²⁵

Ehrman continues, “The results of this quick survey should be clear: if we want to know about the life of the historical Jesus, we are more or less restricted to using the four Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. These are not disinterested accounts by eyewitnesses, however.”²⁶ Given the year gap which was approximately ~35 to ~65 years later which in a constructed thought experiment, essentially would be similar to, all of the sudden now, trying to document the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s, and doing so based on the constraints of prior Biblical timeframe, given, it would be in a world where electronic communication and other technological advancements were non-existent, and word of mouth, story telling, was the way in which this took place. The thought experiment example is anachronistic for many reasons: the technological advancements present in the 60s that enabled communication which were not present in the first century, perhaps the more widespread ability to read and write, etc. but the timespan post-witnessing the events, and the interpretation of the events of the historical Jesus's life and and particularly his death onward to actually being recorded in written form, exhibit the same or similar time gaps to conceptualize. 

Given this year gap between actual events and their historical recording, Ehrman writes, “How is it possible to use such sources to find out what really happened historically? In fact, there are ways. Scholars have devised some methodological principles that, if followed closely and rigorously, can give us some indications of who Jesus really was.”²⁷

So what is some of the criteria that Biblical scholars and historians seem to utilize to evaluate recorded information about the historical Jesus (or other matters historically). Well, I won’t go into all of the detail, but there appears to be some philosophical principles operating. The first principle is “1. The earlier the better.²⁸ In other words, whatever event, place, or person we are trying to capture, historians and scholars want written material as early leading up to the event in question as possible. The further down from the source, the more likely it is able to be skewed, tainted, or doctored. This is pretty common sense for investigation, even kids know this from playing telephone. It need not really any further explanation, nor our attention. The second principle that Biblical scholars and historians seem to prioritize when looking for historical data, is “2. The more the better.²⁹ Also another common sense principle, as finite accounts could render more detail and work reflectively against one another. Ehrman writes, “Suppose there is a story of Jesus found in only one source; it is possible that the author of that source invented the tradition himself. But what if a story is found independently in more than one source? That story cannot have been made up by either source, since they are independent; it must predate them both. Stories found in multiple, independent sources therefore have a better likelihood of being older, and possibly authentic.”³⁰ And lastly, another principle guiding the Biblical scholars/historians on weighing the historicity of a particular text, (especially as it relates to the historical Jesus for our purposes), is that “3. It is better to cut against the grain.³¹ What does this mean though for Ehrman? One example in the form of a question Ehrman gives is the following: 

How might we account for traditions of Jesus that clearly do not fit with a “Christian” agenda, that is, that do not promote the views and perspectives of the people telling the stories? Traditions like that would not have been made up by the Christian storytellers, and so they are quite likely to be historically accurate. This is sometimes, confusingly, called the “criterion of dissimilarity.” Any tradition of Jesus that is dissimilar to what the early Christians would have likely wanted to say about him is more likely authentic. [….] In Mark, our earliest account, John baptizes Jesus. Would Christians have made this up? Remember, in the early Christian tradition it was believed that the person who was spiritually superior baptized the one who was spiritually inferior. Would a Christian make up the idea that Jesus was baptized by, and therefore inferior to, someone else? Moreover, John was baptizing "for forgiveness of sins" (Mark 1:4). Would someone want to claim that Jesus needed to be forgiven for his sins? It seems highly unlikely. Conclusion? Jesus probably really did associate with John the Baptist at the beginning of his ministry, and probably was baptized by him.³² 

Now, one might have critiques with this principle. Consider a case where a person wishes to slander another person in a hyperbolic and/or non-factual way. This certainly "cuts against the grain" however,  in this scenario, it doesn't get closer to the truth. That said, biblical scholars are well trained enough to consider these sorts of things. Take for example, Jewish writings earlier of Jesus by Josephus, Ehrman took into consideration Josephus's identity and intentions, because he said that those writings would have have made him a traitor to the Jewish cause; the other thing to note, is that these principles are general guidelines, it doesn't necessitate that there must be zero outliers. The last principle guiding Biblical historians and scholars, is that "4. It has to fit the context."³³ The historical, social, and cultural context matters and it matters that it is consistent to our subject or event's milieu--in this case, the historical Jesus's time and circumstances. Ehrman gives us some examples, "Lot's of our later Gospels--written in the third or fourth century, in other parts of the world--say things about Jesus that do not make sense in his own context. These things can be eliminated as historically implausible."³⁴ One might say, well many of those were written after the first century anyway, so they were likely to not be credible historically anyway. Okay, fair, that likelihood exists. But what about the four Gospels that we have been discussing? Ehrman has something here to say about whether statements about Jesus fit the context. 

But there are implausibilities even in our four canonical Gospels. In the Gospel of John, chapter 3, Jesus has a famous conversation with Nicodemus in which he says, "You must be born again." The Greek word translated "again" actually has two meanings: it can mean not only "a second time" but also "from above." Whenever it is used elsewhere in John, it means "from above" (John 19:11, 23). That is what Jesus appears to mean in John 3 when he speaks with Nicodemus: a person must be born from above in order to have eternal life in heaven above. Nicodemus misunderstands, though, and thinks Jesus intends the other meaning of the word, that he has to be born a second time. "How can I crawl back into my mother's womb?" he asks, out of some frustration. Jesus corrects him: he is not talking about a second physical birth, but a heavenly birth, from above. [...] This conversation with Nicodemus is predicated on the circumstance that a certain Greek word has two meanings (a double entendre). Absent the double entendre, the conversation makes little sense. The problem is this: Jesus and this Jewish leader in Jerusalem would not have been speaking Greek, but Aramaic. But the Aramaic word for "from above" does not also mean "second time." This is a double entendre that works only in Greek. So it looks as though this conversation could not have happened--at least not as it is described in the Gospel of John.³⁵

So, according to Ehrman, these are some of the tools that Biblical scholars use to find the historical Jesus, and despite our limitations, we can still assert some things about him. Albert Schweitzer was one of the first people to seek out the historical Jesus, and he accomplished the genesis of such a task in a book called The Quest of the Historical Jesus. According to Ehrman, "[...] the majority of scholars in Europe and North America have understood Jesus as a Jewish apocalyptic prophet. A good deal of work on the subject has been done since Schweitzer, of course, who did not rigorously apply the various criteria that I have laid out (they were developed after his day)."³⁶ However, the trajectory of Schweitzer, appears to be headed in the right direction according to Ehrman. 

The historical Jesus appears to be a Jewish apocalyptic teacher, which was common in that day and age--the Dead Sea Scrolls seem to echo this. As Ehrman writes of the historical man, 

Jesus saw the world in dualistic terms, filled with the forces of good and evil. The current age was controlled by the forces of evil--the Devil, demons, disease, disasters, and death; but God was soon to intervene in this wicked age to overthrow the forces of evil and bring in his good kingdom, the Kingdom of God, in which there would be no more pain, misery, or suffering. Jesus' followers could expect this kingdom to arrive soon--in fact, in their lifetimes. It would be brought by a cosmic judge of the earth, whose Jesus called the Son of Man (alluding to a passage in the Jewish Scriptures, Daniel 7:13-14). When the Son of Man arrived there would be a judgement of the earth, in which the wicked would be destroyed but the righteous rewarded. Those who were suffering pain and oppression now would be exalted then; those who had sided with evil and as a result were prospering now would be abased then. People needed to repent of their evil ways and prepare for the coming of the Son of Man and the Kingdom of God that would appear in his way, for it was to happen very soon." [...] There are strong and compelling arguments for thinking of Jesus in these apocalyptic terms. Most important, the traditions that present Jesus this way, all of them from the New Testament Gospels are the ones that pass our various criteria of authenticity.³⁷

From Ehrman's data, we might be able to infer here that the historical Jesus, (and while Ehrman did not mention Martin Luther King Jr.--if I may infer), the historical Jesus that Ehrman describes was closer historically to the one that Martin Luther King Jr. followed, one that calls upon a God that ushers in the "Kingdom of God" right here, and right now, and not one of a mostly otherworldly focus, one that is prayed to, in hopes that the Lord will swoop down, and pull the plug. Ehrman writes of our historical subject, "[...] Jesus preaches the coming Kingdom of God. This Kingdom of God is not 'heaven'--the place you go to when you die (as in later Christian tradition[....]). It is a real kingdom, here on earth, which will be ruled by God through his Messiah, a utopian kingdom where the first will be last and the last first."³⁸ Well, one might say, why is it that we have some otherworldly conceptions? My sense, is that is correct, but it cannot be divorced from this-worldly conceptions either. Some might argue that Paul has some writings that do seem somewhat otherworldly, but Ehrman does not address those here. However, Ehrman does say something about John. "Only in the last Gospel, John, does Jesus no longer preach that this kingdom is arriving soon. And why is this teaching not in the last of our Gospels? No doubt because the kingdom never did arrive, and the later Gospel writer was forced to reinterpret Jesus's message for his own day."³⁹ But, again, these are latter developments according to Ehrman. Instead, "The earliest Gsopel traditions, though, portray Jesus' message as about the coming kingdom."⁴⁰

 


 The Catholic Theologian/Philosopher/Jesuit Priest’s Conception of the Historical Jesus to the Theological Jesus

Historically speaking amongst scholars, there have been around three “historical Jesus” movements. Thomas Rausch, a philosopher and theologian from Loyola Marymount University, writes, 

“The first quest began with Herman Samuel Reimarus (1694–1768), a professor of Oriental languages in Hamburg, Germany. Reimarus was not really a theologian or a person of faith. But he had noticed an imporant difference between the Jesus of history and the Jesus proclaimed by the church and concluded that the message and intention of Jesus was different from that of his disciples and the early church.”⁴¹ So, while Thomas Rausch is critical of Reimarus, he does seem to point out that such discrepancy deserves critical evaluation, and Rausch seems to commend him on this. Certainly, an astute observation when it seems like “the church” of modern day is partially at odds, (especially much of the American "Church"), and if that is an understatement, if not the antithesis of Jesus the Jew and his teachings, particularly when we see mainstream manifestations of Christianity tethered to the empire: from J.D. Vance's "professing" Catholicism, to Donald Trump's egocentric "care" for "Christians."

Nevertheless, Rausch says, that the historical Jesus movement gained momentum after this. “What followed was a host of Leben Jesu books. Influenced by the Enlightenment and often hostile to Christianity, these lives of Jesus attempted to free Jesus from his Jewish religious background and the faith of the church so as to discover the ‘real’ Jesus.”⁴²  Here we find another assertion here by Rausch that less explicitly gives the mood of the theologian, in regards to the "enlightened" or "historical" approach. (Tangentially: I can't say much about this personally--as I have not personally read through each and every of the historical Jesus attempts.) However, I will say, by the time of our modern scholar, Bart D. Ehrman who made it on the New York Times this last Easter discussing the Resurrection, if this were the case (concerning the assertion Rausch made), this has been largely corrected in the historical Jesus quest. However, Rausch asserts, “But most succeeded only in presenting a Jesus fashioned according to the ideal image of their authors. Jesus became an ethical teacher, a friend of the poor and social reformer, a preacher of morality, the ideal human being, or simply a character of fiction."⁴³  Perhaps this was the case, but this is certainly not the case now. We might think of these descriptions of stages that the historical Jesus went through. On the other hand, it seems most scholars and historians recognize that there was a historical Jesus.  Rausch writes, “The coup de grâce to the first quest, sometimes called the liberal quest, came when Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965) pointed out that Jesus was not a modern man at all, as the Enlightenment scholars had presupposed, but was ‘a stranger and an enigma,’ an apocalyptic preacher convinced that the end was near.”⁴⁴ This is reminiscent of some of the early philosophers (i.e. the sophos) as someone (man, woman, two-spirit) being a stranger (or in the case of many across the globe) strangers in the milieus in which they inhabited. Rausch writes, “But for all its shortcomings, the first quest did lead to some advances in biblical scholarship.”⁴⁵

Rausch states, that a second quest takes place around the middle of the 20th Century. And he asserts that one of the starting points is from that of the“[…] New Testament scholars Ernst Käsemann in a lecture at Marburg in 1953 titled, ‘The Problem of the Historical Jesus.’”⁴⁶ Accordingly Rausch writes,  “Käsemann called for a new quest, free of the rationalist, secular presuppositions of the first quest and using the new methods of historical-critical scholarship developed in the interim.”⁴⁷Rausch continues:

This new quest recognized that the gospels, while not histories in the strict sense, did not contain more history than had previously been acknowledged. Second, it rejected myth, meaning that the church’s preaching must be rooted in the historical Jesus. Finally, the new quest did not ignore the kerygma or preaching of Jesus or the early church but took the kerygma fully into account. The result of Käsemann’s programmatic lecture was a flood of new Jesus books, both Protestant and Catholic, focused on the historical Jesus. Still, many of the authors of these works remained half liberal in their presuppositions—skeptical of the miraculous, the eschatological, or even the resurrection—and so remained a product of modernity.⁴⁸

Rausch’s use of the term “liberal” here is not so much a political term, but a theological term. [Definition of Liberal Theology in footnote forty-nine, see below⁴⁹]. There is a third quest that took place recently in the 80s in which Bart D. Ehrman’s scholarship comes out of. Rausch writes about this movement below.  

A “third quest” began in the early 1980s when scholars began moving beyond the literary disciplines of the second quest to emphasize more critical historical and social studies focused on the world of Jesus and the Judaism of his day. Second Temple studies and ancient sources such as the first-century Jewish historian Josephus placed Jesus in his Palestinian Jewish context, while social studies uncovered the social, cultural, and anthropological dimensions of family structure, position of women, impact of Roman domination and economic and tax structure. Understanding the social climate within which Jesus preached often brings new insights into the depths of his message. Especially worthy of mention is John P. Meier’s four volume work, A Marginal Jew.⁵⁰ 

This quest seems much more in tune with what we have seen from Bart D. Ehrman’s writings, especially with his emphasis on the social milieu in which Jesus existed, which encompasses the things in which he stated, his physical sociorhetorical placement within culture, religion, and society as well (or in philosophy we might say: "his social-epistemological situatedness.") Rausch writes that, “The various ‘quests’ for the historical Jesus raise the question of the relationship between faith and history.”⁵¹  If Rausch is right here, and I think he is on to something in that it does raise questions about the role of theologizing and its faithful practice, and the role of enlightened-scientific influenced historical methodology, and its faithful practice. If this is true, then naturally the quest for the historical Jesus, I think, also raises questions about the relationship between history and philosophy. For example, if as Bart D. Ehrman states, if Jesus’s teachings should be interpreted within the historical context and framework of the time (as he does), does this mean that Jesus’s philosophical and ethical teachings (as finitely relayed by fallible human beings) can’t simultaneously point transcendently to something beyond the scope of his day, culture and time in history? It certainty seems that they can, and do from time to time. And theologically speaking, if the Jew named Jesus, was truly God Incarnate in human form, then it seems that naturally at least part of his Divine radiance would be captured in the minds of finite and fallible human records, right? Concerning, Ehrman’s mention of Josephus the Jewish historian earlier, Rausch mentions his Antiquities of the Jews passage, except (intentionally or unintentionally?) does not acknowledge the passages of the text that Bartman suggests were likely added or doctored when Rausch writes, “The most important reference, minus several later Christian interpolations, reads as follows:

At this time there appeared Jesus, a wise man. For he was a doer of startling deeds, a teacher of the people who receive the truth with pleasure. And he gained a following among many Jews and among many of Gentile origin. And when Pilate, because of an accusation made by the leading men among us, condemned him to the cross, those who had loved him previously did not cease to do so. And up until this very day the tribe of Christians (named after him) had not died out. (18.3.3)”⁵¹

It would be curious to hear Rausch's response to Bartman. However, Rausch does add something to the discussion on the historical Jesus in which he explicates further. He writes, “Jesus was more than an itinerant preacher; he was part of the religious community of Israel, familiar with the prophets who preceded him with Jewish hope.”⁵² This seems to be saying something theological about him. Rausch also echos Bartman concerning Jesus’s earlier setting with John the Baptist. “The author of the Fourth Gospel suggests that he was originally a part of John the Baptists’s group of disciples but later moved out on his own, establishing his own movement, describing his disciples as members of a new family who hear the Word of God and do it (cf. Mark 3:33-35). At the center of his movement was a group called 'the Twelve,' symbolic of the twelve tribes of Israel and his movement as the new or eschatological Israel.”⁵³ This is also in tune with what Ehrman suggests, that the reason for the choice of the twelve apostles were symbolic, and reflective of the twelve tribes of Israel, although a historian can not make the claim of an “eschatological Israel”-- since to me this seems like a theological claim. Ehrman might make a historical claim about the Palestinian Jews of Jesus' time (including Jesus himself) preaching apocalyptic messages about coming judgement that was immanent, since the Kingdom of God was right on the heels of the people of the time. Ehrman can track this historically, but Ehrman's historical approach cannot say anything theological or philosophical in any eschatological⁵⁴ sense about the Kingdom of God. Ehrman, can only report it. Thomas Rausch discusses more of his historical and theological/philosophical takes of Jesus and this eschatological interpretation of this. But first let's answer something that has not been answered.

What is the reign of God? This question, I don’t think can be answered purely historically, because there is a philosophical and/or theological dimension to it. Answering the matter historically, Biblical scholars and historians seem to be comfortable with asserting that Jesus preached about the Kingdom of God coming soon and urgently in the lifetime of his followers. Ehrman writes of the historical Jesus: 

Jesus, in short, taught that the Son of Man was soon to arrive from heaven in judgment, and people needed to be ready for it by mending their ways and living as God wanted them to. This involved self-giving love for the sake of others. Thus Jesus is said to have quoted from the Scriptures: 'Love your neighbor as yourself' (Matthew 22:39; quoting Leviticus 19:18). His formulation of this view is the Golden Rule, "Do to others as you would have them do to you" (Matthew 7:12). [...] Those who followed the dictates of Scripture would be rewarded in the coming judgement; those who did not would be punished. And when would this judgement come? In the disicples' own lifetime: 'Some of you standing here will not taste death before they see that the Kingdom of God has come in power' (Mark 13:30). [...] That this view fits in a first-century Palestinian context is clear to every historian of the period. Jesus was not alone in proclaiming the end of this age and the imminent appearance of the Son of Man. Other Jewish prophets had similar apocalyptic messages--even if the details varied from one prophet to another--including the Jews from roughly Jesus' day who left us the Dead Sea Scrolls, which are chock full of Jewish apocalyptic thinking.⁵⁵

In summation, in Ehrman's historical lens of thinking, if correct, this was apocalyptic Jewish teaching that would usher in a new era with the twelve disciples, symbolic of the twelve tribes of Israel, where "...Jesus believed his own disciples would be the rulers of the future, earthly, Kingdom of God."⁵⁶ Thus, according to Jewish prophecy, the Son of Man would enter the world from Heaven, and fulfill the prophecy. In context of the Passover in Jerusalem, Ehrman discusses Jews participating in the event to reflect back on the Exodus, and other Jewish historical events: "No doubt many Jews did this in anticipation that God would intervene yet again, and overthrow the overlords of the present (the Romans) much as he had overthrown the overlords in the past (the Egyptians). Some Jews thought this would happen through a political and military uprising. Others thought it would be a supernatural comic event, when God himself would destroy those opposed to him."⁵⁷ But what about for the theologian? Is it different?

Similarly, the philosopher and theologian Thomas Rausch writes the following of the “kingdom” or “reign” of God: “The metaphor of the kingdom, rooted in the Old Testament idea of the kingship of Yahweh, dominated his preaching and is present in virtually all levels of the New Testament tradition.”⁵⁸ The Kingship of Yahweh/God then, was not new to the Jewish community. “The Greek for “kingdom of God” (basilica tou theou) is better translated as “reign” or “rule” of God; it is not a place but an event, God’s saving power breaking into history in a new way (I will use both terms, depending on the context).”⁵⁹ So a bit more of a theological interpretation here follows as Rausch states, "To receive the kingdom demands a conversion of life, or metanoia (Mark 1:15); one must welcome it like a little child (Matt 18:3).  Hans Küng describes it as 'a radical decision for God.' The reign of God cannot be reduced to a purely religious matter; while it did not mean restoring Israel from Roman occupation, it would be a mistake to conclude that the words of Jesus had nothing to do with the world and society."⁶⁰ Rausch continues to say that, "The original Beatitudes addressed the poor and needy in Israel; later they were reshaped to characterize the qualities and virtues of the disciples. Jesus reached out to the poor and the marginal, healed the sick, exorcised those bound by destructive spirits, reconciled those who were estranged, and proclaimed the forgiveness of sins."⁶¹ But what is interesting about Thomas Rausch's theological and philosophical account (which also acknowledges the historical), is that he recognizes the way in which these secular science-influenced historical quests (or stages) have contributed not only to the truth of the past, but also to furthering theology. For example, Rausch notes "The third quest's emphasis on social context has led to a deeper appreciation of Jesus' preaching. He 'enacted' the kingdom; it was already being realized in his ministry."⁶² But looking at the theological-historical Christian understanding of "the Reign of God" or "the Kingdom of God", there also seems to be more than just something future-oriented about it, there is something eschatological about it. "But Jesus also taught his disciples to pray for the coming of the kingdom in the Lord's Prayer (Matt 6:10) and spoke of the Son of Man coming in judgement (Matt 25:31-46; Luke 12:8-9)."⁶³ Now Ehrman, makes it a big point to suggest that Jesus never explicitly acknowledges himself as the Son of Man in the earliest textual sources, and I think with Rausch's careful wording here, Rausch seems to be aware of this later theological development. But to further describe the early reign of God/kingdom of God, Rausch continues: "The parable of the kingdom describe it as present, hidden growing, looking forward to a fullness or completion; the farmer and the seed, the weeds and the wheat, the mustard seed, the yeast kneaded in the flour, and the net cast into the sea (Matt 13:1-53) bring to light both the present and future aspects of God's reign."⁶⁴ Now, the resurrection will also play into this theological conception of the Kingdom of God, but let's first see what the biblical scholars (or at least one biblical historian) Bart D. Ehrman, has to say about the resurrection before we say much more about the reign/kingdom of God theologically.

The Resurrection: A Historical Jesus vs. the Theological Jesus

Ehrman actually doesn't have a lot to say about the resurrection for us, or Jesus' alleged miracles. But I will provide some context for Ehrman. From the outset, I will say that Ehrman seems to be philosophically limited by his method.

According to the Gospels, Jesus' story does not end with the crucifixion but with the accounts of his resurrection from the dead. [...] There was nothing miraculous about the crucifixion per se. Lot's of people were being crucified, probably every day, throughout the Roman Empire. The only miraculous aspect of Jesus's death involves its theological interpretation, that Jesus died 'for the sins of the world.'"⁶⁵

And for me personally, as a theologian, and a philosopher, I've got to say, I'm really not a fan of that theological development. Perhaps it worked for its time, but it is too closely related to penal substitutionary theory of atonement, or something adjacent. Nevertheless, Ehrman writes, "A historian qua historian cannot pass judgement on this interpretation. We have no historical record that can prove why, from God's point of view, Jesus died. Historians have no access to God, only to what goes on here on [recordable and observable] earth, for which we have historical records. And there is nothing historically problematic about Jesus getting crucified."⁶⁶ Ehrman continues for the more poignant part: "There is something historically problematic with his being raised from the dead, however. This is a miracle, and by the very nature of their craft, historians are unable to discuss miracles. That is my thesis in this final section."⁶⁷ What Ehrman is getting at here, is the philosophical or paradigmatic limitations that a biblical historical scholar (working from historical-scientific framework) is bound to. This might seem anti-climactic, but Ehrman appears to be doing what he is supposed to--staying within the bounds of his field, the search for the historical Jesus. 

So what about the theological Jesus' resurrection? In my view Rausch has one of the fairest theological takes that I have seen--and maybe I haven't seen many fair takes considering I was raised in evangelicalism. "The Resurrection HAPPENED... it is INDISPUTABLE, and if you don't accept that, I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU--especially WHEN YOU BURN IN HELL." This might be a tad hyperbolic, but there is certainly a dogmatic arrogance about the Resurrection from evangelicals--at least the ones that I was raised around in the Bible Belt of the American South. Nevertheless, for Dr. Thomas Rausch (or Father Rausch in Catholicism), we see an insightful, and critical theological account that is pretty long, so I'm going to block quote it below for us: 

The resurrection stands at the center of the New Testament; without it Jesus would be only another failed messiah. Though presumed throughout the New Testament, the Easter tradition--predating the New Testament--appears in two different forms. The Easter kerygma, short formulaic statements that God raised Jesus from the dead and that there are witnesses (Luke 24:34; Acts 2:32; 3:15; 5:31; 10:40; Rom 10:9; 1 For 15:3-7), is the earlier form. The second form, the Easter stories, are later, and they come in two kinds: the discovery of the empty tomb and the appearances to the disciples. For example, the original ending of Mark had only one story, the women at the tomb (Mark 16:1-8).⁶⁸

I just want to commend Rausch here for acknowledging the more historically reliable accounts, and then the latter as "Easter stories" which implicitly acknowledges the narrative story telling, but also the discrepancies between the texts--especially the passage concerning "Mark's" account that differs from the other Gospel narratives. Rausch continues:

 Rather than historical narratives, these dramatic stories are constructed to help others come to Easter faith, teaching that they can recognize the risen Jesus in the breaking of the bread or Eucharist (Luke 24:31, 35), that the disciples have authority to teach, baptize, and forgive sins (Matt 28:19-20; John 20:23), that one does not have to see to believe (John 20:29), and that Peter has pastoral authority as shepherd (John 21:15-17). [...] The precise nature of the disciples' 'Easter experience' remains mysterious. The appearance stories report fear, nonrecognition, disbelief; some think they are seeing a ghost, while Mary Magdalene who loved him mistakes him for the gardener. All of this suggests something nonobjectifiable about the experience.⁶⁹

I recall reading that last portion from the paragraph break in my Systematic Theology graduate seminar, and, and perhaps even saying out loud, after reading the part about the Easter experience being something that "...remains mysterious...", and likewise, the final conclusion, that "...this suggests something nonobjectifiable about the [overall Resurrection] experience..." and I may have even said after reading that outloud, "Well, if that is true, then what the hell are we doing here?!" I don't recall exactly the way Professor Rausch responded, but I do recall him saying, that it was possible that the event might not have even been physical, and that it could have even been mystical in experience; a mystical Resurrection. Rausch continues, 

Furthermore, Jesus appeared to those who had followed him and loved him, or, as in the case of Saul of Tarsus, who were genuinely (even if wrongly) seeking God; he did not appear to his enemies. Neither a purely subjective experience nor an objective one (in the sense of something accessible to all), the Easter appearances represent an eschatological event, a real event but one in which Christ's risen existence breaks into space and time. Dermot Lane speaks of it as a 'transforming experience' in which those who followed Jesus came to recognize him in a different way. Walter Kasper says that Jesus, while now with God, is also with us in a new, divine way. Schillebeeckx describes it as 'the experience of grace and mercy, the result of which was that they were received back into present fellowship with Jesus and confessed him to be their definitive salvation.' The resurrection is God's vindication of Jesus' life and ministry, revealing that God's love is stronger than death. The resurrection of Jesus foreshadows the eschaton, the fullness of salvation when he returns in glory. [...] As the early Christians sought to give voice to their experience of Jesus, they drew on the mythopoeic language of the Jewish Scriptures. They called Jesus prophet, Messiah, Son of David, Son of Man, Son of God, Lord, Word, Wisdom, and occasionally even God. Later, as the church grew out of its Jewish matrix, they adapted the more philosophical language of the Greco-Roman world in which the church was now living.⁷⁰

I also likewise remember freaking out internally upon reading this other aspect of Rausch's language, about the event, that it was "...neither a purely subjective experience nor an objective one..." this also lent me to same question, if true, then, what the hell are we doing here? But then, later,  I got to thinking about the philosophical nature of mystical experiences, and how we can and do categorize them, and how we are limited in talking about them--and that there is an internal-subjective, and also (at least in part) external-objective component to them. And similarly, I got to thinking about the epistemological and philosophical nature of science, and empiricism that undergirds our understanding of "objectivity" and I also read something from another Catholic Theologian describing what Theology is, as a field, (much later), and reading this now it makes a lot more sense. Fancis Schüssler Fiorenza and John P. Galvin, if I may extract this part of the large and more complete whole concerning what they have to say about "theology":

The term theology is ambiguous etymologically, historically, and systematically. Etymologically, theology means the "word," "discourse," "account," or "language" (logos) of God (theos). The question, however, remains: Does it mean the Word of God as a subjective genitive, namely, God's own discourse? Or is it an objective genitive, meaning discourse about God? The former refers to the divine discourse itself, whereas the second refers to the human effort to understand the divine. ⁷¹

Thus, in this sense, Theology cannot be merely a subjective, nor merely objective field--perhaps substantially more so than other areas of study. Its field will always be interdisciplinary. And I think when we think of this, in light of interpreting the subjective and objective components of the Resurrection, this certainly becomes relevant. 

Coming Back to the Theological Interpretations of the Reign/Kingdom of God

I want to pick up where I left off before diverting to Ehrman's historical scholarship, and input on the resurrection. Continuing with Rasuch, as I mentioned before, "the reign of God" or "the Kingdom of God" also has something to do the Resurrection, or at least the Resurrection fortifies its meaning. Rausch writes, 
"The resurrection of Jesus adds a new dimension to the kingdom--life beyond the grave. Thus the reign of God refers to God's power, justice, compassion, and transforming grace, to the fullness of God's salvation. In the words of St. Paul, 'The kingdom of God is not food and drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit' (Rom 14:17)."⁷²

Rausch continues with some more "contemporary expressions of 'the reign'" that I think are noteworthy of mentioning, so I will share this also in a long block quote: 

If the fullness of the reign of God remains mystery, contemporary theology seeks to find ways to express Jesus' vision in language accessible to men and women of today. Some stress God's action in the world and in our lives; others stress that the grace of the kingdom is mediated through compassionate service of others; some view it from the perspective of liberation theology, while still others see the fullness of the reign as involving not just the human but also the cosmic, all creation. [...] Thus Michael Cook sees the 'kingdom of God' as Jesus' comprehensive term for the blessings of salvation, pointing to the divine activity at the center of human life, while 'faith' is his existential term for salvation insofar as it denotes the human response of openness, acceptance, and commitment to his preaching. The mission of Jesus and that of his disciples is fundamentally the same--to embody the most fundamental value Jesus embodied, union with the divine. Edward Schillebeeckx contrasts John the Baptist's warning of coming judgement with Jesus' good news that God was present within human history and active in our own lives; he argues that God's grace is mediated by human beings caring for one another. Albertn Nolan says that the kingdom Jesus believed in 'was a kingdom of love and service, a kingdom of human brotherhood.' His preaching revealed God as a God of compassion. For it is precisely human compassion that 'releases God's power in the world, the only power that can bring about the miracle of the kingdom.' [...] From the perspective of liberation theology, Jon Sobrino describes Jesus as calling others to a radical discipleship that would place them at the disposal of the kingdom or reign of God. Borrowing an image from Ignacio Ellacuria, he challenges this who would be disciples to take the crucified peoples of the world down from the cross. Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza argues that the rule of God is being realized wherever people are being healed, set free from oppression or dehumanizing [power] systems, and made whole. For Terrence Tilley, the reign of God is a realm of human flourishing. Christians like those in the Jesus movement continue the practices of the reign of God--healing, exorcising, sharing table fellowships, forgiving, and teaching, not just in regard to individuals but by working to transform society--though Tilley is careful to add that bringing about the reign is God's work, not our own. [...] Reacting against any tendency to make the coming of the kingdom the work of human beings, Pope Benedict XVI insists that the coming of the kingdom remains God's work; he says that 'the new proximity of the Kingdom of which Jesus speaks.... is to be found in Jesus himself. Through Jesus presence' and action, God has here and now entered actively into history in a wholly new ay... [for] in Jesus it is God who draws near to us.' For Elizabeth Johnson, the reign of God or fullness of God's salvation affects not just human beings but creation itself. She states, 

'This extraordinary biblical symbol evokes the final age when the Spirit will be poured out, when creation will be made whole, when the Spirit-filled servant of God will appear to bring forth justice to the nations, when justice will dwell in the land, when there will be no more war, when the lion will lie down with the lamb, when justice and peace shall kiss--in other words, when God's will is finally done on earth as it is in heaven and the well-being and salvation of every human person and of all creation is secured.'⁷³

Conclusion: 

I just want to make it clear, biblical scholarship is not my forte. Unfortunately, it will probably never be, after being primed with evangelical inerrancy, infallibility, and univocality imposed by fallible humans onto the text: the bible. My forte is primarily philosophical and theological. With that said, I hope that this stirs thinking about the theological Jesus or the philosophical Jesus, vs. the Historical Jesus, and I hope that this serves as a springboard for further work. 

1. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted: Revealing the Hidden Contradictions in the Bible and (and Why We Don’t Know About Them), (HarperOne Publisher, 2009), 140.

2. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted: Revealing the Hidden Contradictions in the Bible and (and Why We Don’t Know About Them), (HarperOne Publisher, 2009), 140.

3. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted: Revealing the Hidden Contradictions in the Bible and (and Why We Don’t Know About Them), (HarperOne Publisher, 2009), 140.

4. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 141.

5. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 141.

6. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 142.

7. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 143.

8. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 143.

9. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 143.

10. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 143-144.

11. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 144.

12. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 144-145.

13. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 145.

14. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 145.

15. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 145.

16. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 145.

17. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 147.

18. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 148.

19. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 149. 

20. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 149.

21. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 149. 

22. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 150. 

23Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 150. 

24. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 151.

25. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 151.

26. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 151.

27. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 151.

28. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 152.

29. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 152.

30. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 153.

31. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 154.

32. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 154.

33. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 154.

34. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 155.

35. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 155.

36. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 156.

37. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 156-157.

38. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 157.

39. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 157.

40. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 157.

41. Rausch, Thomas. Systematic Theology: A Roman Catholic Approach, (Liturgical Press, 2016), 78.

42. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 78.

43. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 78.

44. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 78-79.

45. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 79.

46. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 79.

47. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 79.

48. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 79.

49. González, Justo. Essential Theological Terms, (John Knox Press, 2005), 109-110. Liberal Theology or Liberalism Definition: According to the Protestant Hispanic Liberation Theologian, Justo Gonzalez, "In the history of Protestant theology, 'liberalism' is a movement that flourished in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. While liberals differed widely, in general they agreed on the need to reconcile Christian faith and doctrine with modernity. This included a much more positive valuation of human goodness and potential for good than had become traditional in Christian Theology. Such a valuation of human potential was usually accompanied with the hope that human progress would naturally lead to a more just and rational ordering of society. Given the newly discovered rational order of the universe, theology must also be fully rational, and must find its way among the sciences by showing its own rationality (see Reason and Faith). This in turn means that miracles and all recourse to the 'supernatural' are to be eschewed. The Bible ought to be studied and critiqued with the same analytical and historical tools that scholars apply to other pieces of literature and supposedly historical records. While Jesus is certainly an exceptional figure, he probably was different from what Christian tradition--including the Gospels--have made of him, and therefore theologians must seek to discover the historical Jesus. Religion in general, and Christianity in particular, are valid mostly because they serve as guides for the moral life. [...] Protestant liberalism in this classical sense began to wane as the First World War, and many of the tragic events that followed in the twentieth century, produced increased doubts regarding such notions as the inevitability of progress, the essential goodness of humankind and the objective rationality of modernity. The most influential Protestant theologian calling for an alternative to classical liberalism was Karl Barth, whose Commentary on Romans, published in 1919, set the stage for post liberal, neoorthodox theology. [...] In the common mind, 'liberalism' is now seen as the opposite of fundamentalism, and is a term that fundamentalist themselves often apply to any who do not agree with their tenets." González, 109-110.

50. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 79-80.

51. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 80.

52. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 80-81.

53. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 81.

54. González, Justo. Essential Theological Terms, (John Knox Press, 2005), 54. Eschatology: The doctrine of 'last things'--from the Greek escheat,  last things, and logos, treatise, doctrine, or word. Eschatology often deals with matters such as the parousia of Jesus, the final judgement, eternal life, the millennium, [...] and the resurrection of the dead. Since much idle speculation has been devoted to trying to determine the time and the order of such events (see Dispensationalism, Millenialism) and this has been so missed as a means of 'scaring people into the faith,' eschatology has often been neglected by theologians who feel that such matters are best left in the hands of God. Some have come to the conclusion that eschatological expectation is a metaphor relating to an individual's encounter with God--either in this life or after death. [...] There is another sense, however, in which eschatology is of fundamental importance for Christian Theology. In this sense eschatology, far from a matter of fear, is the basis of Christian hope and joy. Eschatology is the expectation and the assurance that in the end God and God's love will prevail. In this sense eschatology, rather than being an appendix to the rest of theology, becomes one of the pillars on which theology is built (see Hope, Theology of). Without an expectation of an end, all of history and all of life would be meaningless and hopeless. [...] On the other hand, much traditional speculation about the 'end times' fails to take into account the fact that according to the witness of the New Testament there is a sense in which the end has already come. In the incarnation and resurrection of Jesus, the end of history has come into history. Repeatedly, the New Testament refers to the events of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and to the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, as 'the last days.' Thus, many theologians suggest that the best way to speak of Christian eschatology is by means of a paradox between the 'already' and the 'not yet.' Jesus has already come; yet Jesus is to come. The kingdom of God is already among us; yet we pray daily for the coming of the kingdom. [...] Finally, it is important to point out that genuine eschatological hope has implications for the present life. This who truly expect a certain outcome to live their lives and to history will live according to that hope. Those who really expect their prayer to be answered, 'Thy kingdom come, ' will live as those who indeed expect the kingdom to come. Thus, eschatological interpretation has an important ethical dimension that is often forgotten." 54-55.

55. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted: Revealing the Hidden Contradictions in the Bible and (and Why We Don’t Know About Them), (HarperOne Publisher, 2009), 160-161.

56. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 161.

57. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 165.

58. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 81.

59. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 81.

60. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 81.

61. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 81.

62. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 81.

63. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 82.

64.  Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 82.

65. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 172.

66. Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus, Interrupted, 172.

67. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 172.

68. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 86.

69. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 86.

70. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 86.

71. Fancis Schüssler Fiorenza and John P. Galvin, Systematic Theology: Roman Catholic Perspectives Volume 1, (Fortress Press, 1991), 5.

72. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 82.

73. Rausch Thomas, Systematic Theology, 82-84.

Monday, April 6, 2026

Add Black Catholic to my Perennial Soul

 I don't know that I need to justify anything, but I am sure that people will be curious, (and also, I have talked a lot of mess about Roman Catholicism in the past) so I have written this out for communal clarity and understanding. From the outset, my decision to become formally initiated into Catholicism was a practical one first, and foremost--so that I can teach Theology, so that I can do moral things like take care of my family, feed my daughter in the most expensive city (or one of the most) in the U.S. etc. and so forth. There might be some question to why one would need to become Catholic in order to teach Theology/Religon, and that is a legitimate question for one outside the familiarity with the territory. Here is the main reason: If you want to teach Theology/Religion at some institution private-religious (e.g. High School, College, or University) or public-secular (e.g. High School: “World Religions” or College, University: Religious Studies) outside of Catholicism in Los Angeles area, then your only hope will be at an Evangelical private institution (High School or Collegiate)—with the exception of some colleges/universities. That aside—concerning secondary education, they (Evangelicals) largely all have extremely conservative "Statements of Faith" that you have to eliminate yourself on by the conservative and fundamentalistic way they frame their application questions--or you can lie about “the Bible having no errors”, and then probably get eliminated later anyway when they find you out. Another reason why, is because I am 5 classes away from a second MA from a Catholic University. [While one could focus on Hinduism, per se, and not do a whole lot of other things Catholic, Protestant Evangelical institutions will see the term "Catholic" and immediately toss out your application--although, they'd really freak out if they saw (hypothetically speaking) what I primarily focused on was Hinduism ;)]. Another response to the "why?"-question, is because, here in Los Angeles, (probably not that unbelievable if you know anything about academia these days) secondary ed.: High School Theology/Religion Teachers can actually make more money than I can (in academia) annually, as working at three jobs: one University, a college, and an unrelated secondary ed. job--and that's simply by just working one job (High School Theology/Religion) in comparison to my slaving away in the predatory Capitalist city of Los Angeles for a minimal paycheck.

However, my initiation could be (and is also being) justified in other ways. I was not initiated into just Catholicism, I was initiated into Black Catholicism. There are several nuances in asserting that, including the fact that I have a daughter that is bi-racial (technically tri-racial: Black, White, and Thai), that will need to be connected (as it is my duty as a parent, and a white parent to do so) with the Black Liberation religious traditions of her ancestors. Although, because I was raised in white evangelical protestantism, rejected it, escaped, and became part of the Black Protestant traditions of the South, Black Liberative Protestantism, will always be a part of me—and to this day, I am still probably most influenced by and indebted to, the Protestant (and Father) of Black Liberation Theology, James Hal Cone. 

That being said, as a philosopher, (a perennialist), and an ecumenical theologian/liberation theologian, there are a thousand and one ways to justify this type of decision based on Roman Catholicism's Lumen Gentium, their Gaudium et Spes, (which has implications for laity, and people outside the faith), their Nostra Aetate, which Thomas Rausch writes in his Systematic Theology: A Roman Catholic Approach that, it is "...the second Vatican Council's Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions..." (Rausch, 41). He also says about it, that, "It called Catholics to a new respect for religious pluralism, noting that other religions often reflect a ray of that truth that enlightens all people. And it encouraged Catholics to dialogue and cooperate with the followers of other religious traditions (NA2). Thus to enter into inter-religious dialogue is itself a religious act, seeking out the truth that may embodied in another religious tradition" (Rasuch, 41-42). So, for many examples like this, and there are a ton more, based on the progressive Comparative Theological efforts of Roman Catholicism, etc. and so forth, there is plenty of prima facie or conditional justification for this type-path being one that facilitates harmony and progress via the institutions of Roman Catholicism, given my situation and predicament, and theological/philosophical commitments and allows for a fairly consistent picture.

On the other hand as a liberationist thinker/theologian, and a white person rooted in (and allied to) the Black Liberation, and Black Christian traditions, with honor, I can say that I have been accepted amidst the Black Catholics, and they have been very good to me.




Something noteworthy to discuss about Black Catholics, is that we typically associate Catholicism, with its imperial history (and rightfully so...) of conquest, and pillage, culture-stripping, etc. However, it remains the case, that Black Catholics *do indeed* have a rich history in Africa prior to European body snatching via the Mid-Atlantic Slave Trade, and the full effects of colonialism taking place in Africa.

As the scholar Albert J. Raboteau writes in his Slave Religion: The 'Invisible Instituion' in the Antebellum South that, "THE ENSLAVEMENT of an estimated ten million Africans over a period of almost four centuries in the Atlantic slave trade was a tragedy of such scope that it is difficult to imagine, much less comprehend. When these Africans were brought to slavery in the mines, plantations, and households of the New World, they were torn away from the political, social, and cultural systems that had ordered their lives" (Raboteau, 4). And this is true, no matter how morally atrocious we paint the historical picture, it will never do it justice to just how diabolically evil, immensely traumatizing, sadistically cruel, utterly repulsive, etc. and so on, that chattel slavery actually was, and is. However, despite these despicable and hard facts about the nature of chattel enslavement and the Atlantic Slave Trade, Raboteau continues to say that despite the broken customs, languages, families, and way of life in general, Something African, persisted onward. Raboteau writes, "In the New World slave control was based on the eradication of all forms of African culture because of their power to unify slaves and thus enable them to resist or rebel. Nevertheless, African beliefs and customs persisted and were transmitted by slaves to their descendants. Shaped and modified by a new environment, elements of African folklore, music, language, and religion were transplanted in the New World by the African diaspora" (Raboteau, 4). However, despite this, African to Afro-American religious and cultural hold-fasting remained, and still remains a constant. As Raboteau writes, "One of the most durable and adaptable constituents of the slave's culture, linking African past with American present, was his religion" (4). 

But note, "It is important to realize, however, that in the Americas the religions of Africa have not been merely preserved as static 'Africanisms' or as archaic 'retentions.' The fact is that they have continued to develop as living traditions putting down new roots in new soil, bearing new fruit as unique hybrids of American origin. African styles of worship, forms of ritual, systems of belief, and fundamental perspectives have remained vital on this side of the Atlantic, not because they were preserved in a 'pure' orthodoxy but because they were transformed" (4) Raboteau argues that the reason this happened was due to the African reverence for a spiritual world, and spiritual power. "Adaptability, based upon respect for spiritual power wherever it originated, accounted for the openness of African religions to syncretism with other religious traditions and for the continuity of a distinctively African religious consciousness" (4-5). Therefore, Raboteau concludes, "At least in some areas of the Americas, the gods of Africa continued to live--in exile" (5). I don't know of any thoughtful person that might say this, but a superficial person might very well say, "Show me the evidence! Where is the evidence for this?" Well, there is plenty of evidence just about everywhere for this, so look around! And with something as widespread as the Atlantic Slave Trade, with the sheer number of human beings involved, women, children, men, and elderly packed like sardines on ships, and with the Mid-Atlantic Slave Trade existing for so many years, it shouldn't be surprising that the evidence is not just in one place to point to. But, since this writing is about Black Catholicism rooted in Africa, it is the case that my focus will be on Black Catholicism as it relates to African religious syncretism, and African cultural roots (opposed to Islam, opposed to Protestantism, etc.).

Raboteau writes, "Common to many African societies was belief in a High God, or Supreme Creator of the world and everything in it" (8). Also worth mentioning, and perhaps more important in many African cultures, were the "lesser gods". The lesser deities/spirits/ancestors tended to be more involved in human affairs. As Raboteau states of these "lesser gods," and "ancestor-spirits"--that they "...were actively and constantly concerned with the daily life of the individual and the affairs of society as a whole" (8). Concerning the aggregate of African religion, according to Raboteau, "Occasionally individuals and communities did pray to the High God but sacrifice to [the High God] was rare; it was generally the other gods and the spirits of deceased ancestors who received the most attention, since they had been delegated to attend to 'the affairs of [hu]mankind'" (8-9). Raboteau continues, "Usually, in the traditional religions of West Africa the High God is the parent of the other and lesser gods, who are sometimes seen as mediators between man and God" (9). I could go on, and on, about concrete examples of this from Yoruba, the Ibo, the Bakongo/Kongo/Bantu, etc. and so forth. But for now, the relevance between Roman Catholicism (in particular, Black Catholics) is the parallel between the lesser deities and the role in which they play for the individual subject, or ethical agent.

Some noteworthy examples of this African syncretism in caveats of Catholicism are: Candomblé, Santeria, Shango and Vaudou. As Raboteau notes, African religion indubitably underwent a shift, and evolution (as an effect of chattel slavery, and having one’s entire world and way of life stripped from oneself). Yet, "Still, much remained, and particularly in Latin America the gods lived on in the beliefs and rituals of the slaves' descendants. Candomblé in Brazil, [S]anteria in Cuba, [S]hango in Trinidad, and [V]audou in Haiti, all latest to the vitality and durability of African religious perspectives" (16). And in this, Raboteau, wants to emphasize the African-religious "continuity of perspective" which (among other elements) is one of the most important or noteworthy assertions to make about one of the potent elements of African religion that remains. Why? Well, this is due to the "...fact that cults of particular African gods, such as Shango or Elena, have been transmitted to the New World" (16). As Raboteau astutely writes, "For new as well as old gods have come to be worshipped by Afro-Americans, but the new, like the old, have been perceived in traditionally African ways" (16).

The Widespread Salience of African Religious Syncretism with Catholicism

Also noteworthy about ethnic demographics, and the widespread salience of syncretism historically as it relates to Roman Catholicism, Raboteau writes referencing the periods 1888 through 1852,

"Over this period of three centuries slaves were brought at various times from he Western Sudan, Guinea, Angola, Congo, and Mozambique. The Yoruba, Fon, Fanti, Ahanti, Hausa, Tapa, Mandinke, Fulbe, and Bantu peoples were all represented on the slave ships sailing into the Bay of All Saints, Bahia, which for two centuries served as the main port entry. Among the slaves, traditional African beliefs (and, to a degree, Islam) continued to exist and were syncretized with Portuguese Catholic and Indian beliefs into new Afro-Brazilian forms, which came to be known as [C]andomblé in Bahia, as [M]acumba in Rio de Janeiro, and as [S]hango or [C]atimbo in northeastern Brazil" (18).

Many of these African forms of religion began to blend with Catholicism, while Africans in the diaspora began making it their own. [Although, it is important to note, that many aspects of early Christianity, particularly in Africa (e.g. St. Augustine, e.g. St. Monica) have an immensely African-Indigenous (pre-colonial) nature, or "feel" (for lack of a better word) to them. For more on this, see my most recent publication that is out titled: [ Unearthing Evidence for St. Augustine's Racial Blackness and Paralleling...]. Nevertheless, in many cases these religions began to blend their deities with Catholic saints--or perhaps more strongly, as Raboteau says descriptively of the process, as the "...identification of the gods with Catholic saints" (21). In support of this, some of the evidence supported here by Raboteau references Shango. "Many of the gods or 'powers' worshiped in [S]hango are not of African but of Trinidad origin. Eshu, Ogun, Yemanja, and Shango are worshiped but the myths attached to the gods in Africa have either disappeared or been replaced by Catholic hagiography in Trinidad" (21). Although an exception to this is rooted in a Yoruba legend. Raboteau notes, "There is an interesting trace of one Yoruba legend about the god Shango. Shango, it is said, has a sibling by the name of Oba Koso (identified with St. Anthony)" (21).

Also noteworthy to the ties between African religion and way of life to that of Roman Catholicism, is that there is also an African persistence made manifest within the "...Afro-cuban cult of [S]anteria" (21). Raboteau writes, "The most immediately apparent innovation that [S]anteria, [S]hango, and [C]andomblé have brought to African theological perspectives is the identification of African gods with Catholic saints. Initially, the veneration of saints must have provided the slaves with a convenient disguise for secret worship of African gods" (22). According to Raboteau, another factor lies in the flexibility within African religious culture to accept without hostility "...'foreign' gods of neighbors and of enemies" (22). Perhaps this likely also had to do with more fluid, and less rigid worldviews than Westerners have with our either/or thinking(?). And in support of the forgoing, "It has not been unusual for one people to integrate the gods of another into their own cult life especially when social changes, such as migration or conquest, required mythic and ritualistic legitimation" (22).

Here is another interesting point that Raboteau makes which is less explicitly saying something about the diversity within Catholicism. He writes,

Furthermore, Catholic popular piety has long been open to syncretism with 'pagan' belief and practice. No fundamental contradiction existed between veneration of the Virgin Mary and the saints in Catholic piety, on the one hand, and devotion to the [O]risha and [V]odun in African religions, on the other. The Portuguese, Spanish, or French colonists appealed to the saints for succor, he lit candles to honor them, knelt before their images, observed their feast days, and trusted them as intermediaries between him and his God. And while, doctrinally, the Holy Trinity was most blessed and alone deserving of all worship, in practice the line between veneration and adoration was frequently crossed in popular devotion to the Virgin and the saints. Catholic notions about the role of Christ, Mary, guardian angels, and patron saints as intercessors with the Father in heaven for men on earth proved quite compatible with African ideas about the intervention of lesser gods in the day-to-day affairs of human life, while the supreme god remained benevolent and providential but distant (22-23).

Also worthy to mention is the consistency in logic, in making this "lesser deity" to-Catholic-saints leap (if we can call it that in relevant cases); or syncretism (in those cases); or all out replacement (in the other cases). "The logic of particular identifications between [O]risha and saint seems to have been based sometimes on the similarity of powers assigned to them" (23). Some examples of this that Raboteau gives are of St. Barbara, St. Peter, St. George, St. Francis, St. Patrick, and many other Judeo-Christian religious or Biblical figures or characters. Let's start with our first mention: "St. Barbara, for example, the protectress against thunder and lightning, was identified in Bahia with Shango, god of thunder and lighting, despite the difference in gender" (23). Another is that of St. Peter (but also correlates with the Judeo-Christain devil). "The malevolent aspect of Eshu-Elegba led to his identification with the devil at Bahia and Trinidad, while in Cuba his role as divine messenger, the 'opener of roads,' caused him to be matched with St. Peter, 'keeper of the keys' to the Kingdom of Heaven" (23). Another, that I didn't mention is St. Raphael. As Raboteau writes, "St. Raphael, the archangel who in the Bible heals Tobit, is known in [S]anteria as Osanyin, the god of healing, who dispenses cool medicinal leaves" (23).

Raboteau also notes other "iconographic" parallels between African deities and the Catholic saints. "For example, Oshossi, god of the hunt, is known as St. George or as St. Michael the archangel, both traditionally depicted in Christian iconography as warriors with swords in hand. In Cuba, Orunmila, the god of divination, is also called St. Francis, perhaps because Francis is traditionally pictured wearing a rosary, which resembles the opele chain used in Ifa divination" (23). Another hugely significant syncretism, is that, of Virgin Mary and Yemoja. "Yemoja, mother of the gods and of the waters, has been syncretized with the Virgin Mary under several of her titles. Correlations are also made between Ogun and St. John the Baptist; Shun and the Virgin of Cobre (patroness of Cuba)..."(24). Furthermore, Raboteau notes that, "In Trinidad, according to herskovits, the names of gods and saints are hyphenated in common usage, e.g., 'Ogun-St. Michael,' and they are referred to interchangeably when, for instance, a picture of John the Baptist is identified as a picture of Shango" (24).

While that was not exhaustive, it does provide some potent examples, and also this is only one dimension of the religious syncretism between Catholicism and African religion or way of life as it relates to lesser deities and the Catholic Saints. There are other examples that parallel to the materialistic, this-worldly nature of African religion. "Candles, crucifixes, and chromolithographs are blended with rituals associated with African gods. In Trinidadian [S]hango, for example, the annual ceremony of the shangoists, which lasts for four nights, 'begins with a prayer meeting in which an incense burner, lighted candles, Catholic prayers, original prayers, and the dismissal of Eshu-Satan are the important elements. Ogun-St. Michael is then summoned with one of his drum rhythms... Other male powers, followed by the female powers, are then invited.'"(24).

African Religious use of Godparents Converging with Roman Catholicism in African-Christian Religious Syncretism:

"In [C]andomblé the drums themselves are offered sacrifice and even baptized in the presence of godparents according to Catholic ritual" (24). This is interesting, as I was required two godparents in my initiation, and my baptism, and leading up to it in the process for around a year, with the Black Catholics, and their guidance was very much a big part of the process. 




More on African Religious Syncretism in Roman Catholicism and Christianity in General from Raboteau

Raboteau writes, "Syncretism arises from the fact that 'cult members are simultaneously worshipers of the African gods and communicants of the Catholic Church' and see nothing strange about being so" (24). However, on the other hand, Raboteau tries to drive home the point that syncretism might be too strong of a word in some cases, as it implies some sort of assimilation or giving in on the part of the African religious or cultural identity aspect. But, this is not always the case. "While African gods have been identified with Catholic saints, it is Ogun, for example, who possesses, not St. Michael. And while Catholic liturgical calendars have replaced African ones, on the feast days of the saints the gods are fed with African-style sacrifice" (25) To further drive the point, Raboteau makes it clear,

On the deepest levels the parish church and the cult house remain parallel and separate. Even with the addition of Catholic forms, the African provenience of worship in the cult houses is clear. As anthropologist Michel Laguerre has pointed out in reference to Haitan [V]audou, syncretism between Catholicism and Afro-American cults has largely been a syncretism of material and magic. Blessed objects (candles, pictures, holy water), gestures, and prayers have been appropriated from Catholicism for use in the cults because they are believed to posses magical power. To add the power of Christianity to that of African cults made sense, for 'it is better to reply upon two magics instead of one'" (25)

Another important event in Christianity and African Religion's Syncretism, was the use of it for a near-full-fledged African religion. Legislation was passed, the Code Noir in 1685 which required that enslaved person must be taught and baptized within around a weeks time (eight days) after their arrival. In the context of this practice lived out, let's leap forward almost 40 years. "Thirty-seven years later, Fr. Jean Baptiste Labat objected that slaves used Christianity to disguise their African beliefs: 'The Negroes do without qualm, what the Philistines did; they put Dagon with the Ark and secretly preserve all the superstition of their ancient idolatrous cult alongside the ceremonies of Christianity'" (25). And also, other complaints were charged: "In a decree of the Conseil du cap of 1761 the clergy were still complaining that the slaves were guilty of mingling 'the Holy utensils of our religion with profane and idolatrous objects" and of altering 'the truths and dogmas of religion'" (25). 

I say all of this, utilizing these brief examples, not to say, that the Black Catholics that I have recently been initiated into, fulfill every historical example of religious syncretism and/or persisted in every African way that dominates Catholicism. But, there is generally, a very clear difference between majority member Catholics, (usually white in the U.S. in our day) vs. minority member Catholics in the U.S. (in this case: Black Catholics). And, I am always happy to stand alongside my Black neighbors no matter the religion, no matter the denomination, and become one with the downtrodden and oppressed of society to be apart of the fight for justice and goodness. 



Works Cited and Other Resources: 
Raboteau, Albert J. "Slave Religion: The 'Invisible Institution' in the Antebellum South." Oxford University Press, 2004.

Rasusch, Thomas. "Systematic Theology: A Roman Catholic Approach." Liturgical Press, 2016.



Resources for your own research: 
Candomblé: [https://www.npr.org/sections/parallels/2013/09/16/216890587/brazilian-believers-of-hidden-religion-step-out-of-shadows]

Santeria: [https://www.britannica.com/topic/Santeria]

Shango: [https://www.britannica.com/topic/Shango]

Vaudou: [https://www.britannica.com/topic/Vodou].

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