One Christian’s Easter Observations (I of II)

Warning: I’m doing something unusual for me.  This Easter season, I am writing two religiously based newsletters, this being the first.  I’ll then move back to leadership and leadership of change.  Given current events, such a focus seems appropriate in this religious season, perhaps even useful.

On relying on (or even thinking of using) evil to drive out evil. I’m not a scripture expert. I have read the Old Testament (except all the ‘begot’ text) and the New Testament (multiple times) and I do continue to study it.  At least to me though, Jesus seems clear on this point.

Accused that he casts out demons because he is a demon himself, Jesus deftly uses the moment to make a larger point, namely, ‘a house divided against itself cannot stand’.  Restated, demons don’t undermine the work of demons.  (Matthew 12:22-28):  “If Satan casts out Satan, he is divided against himself.  How then will his kingdom stand?” (Matthew 12:27)  Hence, don’t be fooled.  Don’t enlist a demon to cast out demons. 

Jesus and Anti-Semitism.  I am a Christian--born and raised a Roman Catholic, but a long-standing skeptic of institutionalizing spiritual life within a religion and, therefore, am very Reformational+. I view Jesus as, at the least, a uniquely significant figure in my personal spiritual life.  That, together with a family history which includes a German cousin ‘disappeared’ by the SS for turning a ‘requested’ meeting with an SS recruiting officer into an occasion to decry the Nazis in general and the SS in particular—leads me here:  I am pained and disgusted by antisemitic words and deeds, especially any emanating from a self-identified Christian or Christian organization— historically, today, or tomorrow.

Jesus the physical entity was born of Jewish parents who raised him as a Jew.  The loving dedication of his Jewish mother maintained itself through the trials leading up to and within his public ministry, through to the moment of the horror of his brutal death by request of the heads of a religious institution and at the hands of the local representative of an occupying power.  Jesus evidenced his dedication to his mother even in death's throes - his final words from the cross included instruction to a disciple to care for Mary as the disciple would for his own mother. Jesus lived as a Jew. He studied and preached as a Jew.  He sought to reform the institutional Judaism of the time and died under a sign ordered by a Roman official (i.e., Pilate) declaring him, however sardonically or ironically, a Jew, actually ‘King of the Jews’.

We of any of the 3 booked religions can disagree vociferously and endlessly about who Jesus was/is-- God or human, major or minor prophet, human turned God or God born human.  What we cannot argue about is his Jewishness.

Any Christian owes Judaism (and Jews) a magnificent and fundamental debt.  That tradition and its teachings undergird Jesus’ life and work on earth.  It nourished and informed his spirituality.  Agree or disagree about just who Jesus was/is, but the debt to his Jewishness lays out clearly before one and all who explore, let alone embrace, his teachings.

Given that, what Christian believes that Jesus would relish, admire, or so much as tolerate anything but love and respect for his people of origin, for his mother’s people?  Who would believe that he wouldn’t weep at any transgression against them?  Who could believe that Jesus reviewing the life of anyone who engaged in anti-Semitism wouldn’t swiftly include a pained expression of ‘How could you!?’ followed by, ‘How dare you?!’ ‘How could you attack my people, my mother’s people?’ and, for too many, ‘How could you ever invoke my name, my life, or a religion formally dedicated to my teachings as you justified such attacks?" ' Did you believe that such attacks and such justifications would elicit my blessing? Did you?!'" 

Hard to believe.
 
All wishes for a Happy Ramadan (now), Happy Easter (very soon) and Happy Passover (soon).