Saturday, March 28, 2020

Christopher Columbus: A Historiography, 1892-1992


The beginnings of colonial American history are inescapably linked to the life and legacy of Christopher Columbus.  Even though we now accept the fact that Columbus was far from the first person to “discover” or explore the New World, the history of Christopher Columbus is foundational to all that would follow in his wake.  Columbus’ influence is so wide reaching that his name has been used when naming numerous cities, capitals and even a South American nation.  Columbus even has a holiday named for him by a nation whose lands he never walked. 
            Despite his important role in New World colonization, Columbus’ legacy is complicated to say the least.  Was he a hero? A villain?  Or something else entirely?  Analyzing how historians, over time, have viewed the history of Christopher Columbus illustrates the complexity of this important historical figure.  For example, we can easily see stark differences in how Columbus was esteemed by historians when we juxtapose the historical records of his 400th anniversary (1892) with those of his 500th anniversary (1992), and all the years in between.  For historians of the late 19th century, Christopher Columbus was a figure of admiration, whose voyage was blessed by God himself, while historians of the later 20th century placed the bulk of the blame for Native American genocide squarely on his shoulders, thereby completely shifting the paradigm of Columbus historiography from one extreme to the other.  In other words, historians of both the 19th and 20th centuries tended to tell only half of the story when it came to Columbus.  He was either a hero or a villain, with little wiggle room in between.  Such a black and white treatment of Columbus diluted the true history of this incredibly important figure and reflects more the popular sentiments of the days in which these histories were produced. As Historian and Columbus Biographer De Lamar Jensen put it:
Most people living one hundred years ago and celebrating the quadricentenary of Columbus’s first voyage honored Columbus as a hero who almost singlehandedly battered down the walls of medieval ignorance…others, however, have become overenthusiastic, even slanderous, in their attempts to demythologize Columbus. Their approach often serves to bolster a political cause rather than promote a search for truth.[1]
Understanding how and why the legacy of Christopher Columbus has experienced such a shift in only a short one-hundred-year period requires us to recognize the unique cultural and social factors that helped to shape the perspectives of both 19th and 20th century historians.  For both students and teachers living in the 19th century, the American school experience was one in which the promotion of great men of virtue was of paramount importance.  As modern historians Carla and Phillip Williams point out, “the nineteenth century saw the development of textbooks in United States history that consciously aimed to create virtuous and patriotic citizens.”[2]  The heavy emphasis on the narrative of America’s providential founding and destiny, coupled with the eventual rise of nationalism, created an atmosphere in which histories featuring great men, accomplishing great feats, all for the sake of great nations, found their way to the Avant Garde of the collective American historical experience. 
The origin of these pro-Columbus narratives of the late 1800s have their genesis with the work of Washington Erving, who in 1828 wrote a four-volume work entitled, A History of the Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus.  Erving’s book, which became an instant hit in its day, was peppered with a plethora of twisted facts and downright fiction, making the work unreliable from a purely historical perspective, but deeply moving from a nationalistic sense.  Erving’s version of Columbus was very much in line with the “great man” concept of that century.  Erving called Columbus “an ardent and comprehensive genius,” endowed with an “enthusiastic nature” who “conferred with sovereigns almost with a feeling of equity.”[3]  In addition, Erving consistently inflates Columbus’ importance as a truly great man by perpetuating numerous myths, including the now debunked folklore tale of Columbus being motivated to prove that the world was not flat.[4]
            For the next 100 years, Erving’s record of Columbus would dominate society as the most popular biography on the great explorer.[5]  As a result, the gluttony of myths and distorted historical accounts filtered down into subsequent histories.  By the time Columbus’ quadricentennial had arrived, the majority of historians and causal readers of history had accepted the narrative established by Erving.  Columbus was a man of moral character to be emulated and revered, and those who endeavored to produce historical material on the explorer would be wise not to contradict that status quo.  Consequently, the histories of Columbus that emerged in the late 19th century followed the established narrative.
One example of Erving’s influence on Columbus history of the late 19th century can be found in the work of William Eleroy Curtis.  In his two-part biography of Columbus, Curtis refers to the explorer as, “a man of honest parentage and sober life” who was “prudent, showing a great genius, and he was gracious in manner.”[6]  Throughout the book (which focuses primarily on the works of art created to memorialize Columbus), Curtis heaps praise upon the Italian explorer who is more than deserving of all the “heroic statues” and “dignified effigies” dedicated throughout the world to his memory.[7]
In addition to Curtis’ account are several collections of Columbus’ own writings, gathered and published by historians for his quadricentennial celebration, each containing an introduction of preface by their respective historian/author.  Many of these introductions present the same complimentary treatment of Columbus, as a man worthy of admiration.  In Writings of Christopher Columbus (1892), historian Paul Leicester Ford describes Columbus as, “a man of bold disposition, good mind and education, with practical sea and cartographic experience, and withal an enthusiast, was ready to act at the time that Europe’s interests in the east forced her at last to turn westward.”[8]  In The Authentic Letters of Christopher Columbus (1895), historian William Eleroy Curtis recognizes Columbus as a man of “deep religious spirit” whose piety was so great that even kings and queens sought his wisdom because of his devotion to God.[9] And finally, in The Life of Christopher Columbus (18..), author Arthur George Knight venerated Columbus when he wrote, “As long as Englishmen are sailors and merchants, and love enterprise and greatness of courage, they ought to hold in veneration the memory of Christopher Columbus...when he departed this life he was ripe for canonization, and he even miraculously aids those who commend themselves to his powerful intersession.”[10]  The general thesis from these – and many other – records of Columbus, produced during the conclusion of the 19th century was clear: Christopher Columbus was a great man, worthy of praise, whose deeds were sanctioned by divinity itself. 
In addition to the many primary source publications produced at this time, and their prefaced remarks from historians of the time, were numerous biographies and histories of Columbus, which also fell in line with the conventional historiographical approach of the 19th century.  Among this vast collection is the biography by John Stephens Cabot Abbott in which Columbus is portrayed as a larger than life figure, sent from heaven above to fulfill the divine mandate of discovering the New World.  “Columbus was, by nature, a kind-hearted man…he completely won the hearts of the natives by the gift of a few glittering beads or tinkling hawk’s bells.”[11]  Abbott concluded his biography of Columbus by reminding the reader that Columbus’ life “was one of the most joyous we have on record.  That he had his faults all will admit.  That those blemishes of character were redeemed by many and exalted virtues, few candid minds will deny.”[12] 
In a world marked by new emerging technologies, newfound economic opportunities and a surging spirit of nationalism, Christopher Columbus was the perfect candidate for historical canonization.   As an explorer who braved unknown frontiers, discovered unknown lands and endeavored to strike it rich, Columbus’ story resonated on a deep and intimate level.  19th century American society had already venerated innovators and tycoons like Thomas Edison, Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller for their contributions which had brought to pass a new world.  Comparing such achievements to those accomplished 400 years earlier by a foreign explorer with a dream was not a tough connection to make.  As such, Christopher Columbus became, in the eyes of the average American, a rags to riches success story to be emulated and admired. 
Reevaluation and Extreme Objectivity   
While the bulk of late 19th century Christopher Columbus history was clearly over-complimentary and seeking to promote the explorer as a great and noble man to be revered, the atmosphere of admiration was not without its storms.  As the years marched on into the 20th century, historians began the very slow process of reassessing who Christopher Columbus really was, and how his history should be presented.  In her 1915 biography, author and historian Mildred Stapley took earlier Columbus biographers to task when she wrote:
Critical research into the life of Christopher Columbus was unknown until about thirty years ago.  It was then, for the first time, that authors began to ransack the archives of Spain and Genoa for material, instead of merely repeating the long-accepted story whose outline had been ingeniously sketched by the navigator himself and as ingenously filled in by his son Fernando.  The many inaccuracies of his story had not escaped writers as shrewd as Washington Irving and Alexander Humboldt; but they, instead of subjecting disturbing misstatements to critical examination, bent all their talents to inventing plausible explanations of every discrepancy.[13]
            For researchers like Stapley, the traditional narrative of Columbus as a great man wasn’t necessarily wrong, but it wasn’t entirely accurate either.  Historians of the generation that followed Columbus’ quadricentennial understood that they had to “emancipate [themselves] from the thralldom of that uncritical admiration in which it has been fashionable to hold the Discoverer, ever since Washington Irving threw over the subject the romantic and bewitching charm of his literary skill.”[14]  Instead of relying on the interpretations of their parent’s generation, those who “inherited” the job of understanding Columbus’ legacy moving forward felt a greater responsibility to let the historical record speak for itself.  Instead of needing Columbus to be a great man, justified by history, these new historians determined to let the historical record reflect “a more correct judgement be formed” on the true character of this all-important explorer.[15]        
            This shift of agenda can be summed up in many regards as the moment when historians were able to emancipate themselves from the cultural desire to make Christopher Columbus fit with a particular social agenda.  As resources became more available, these new histories “were willing to temper their admiration of Columbus,” thereby opening up themselves to new potential conclusions.[16] These new conclusions may have flown counter to conventional narratives, but they also allowed a new historiography to bloom. 
            Arguably the most influential work of new Columbus historiography produced in the wake of his quadricentennial era was a biography by Justin Winsor entitled, Christopher Columbus and How He Received and Imparted the Spirit of Discovery (1892).  In his book, Windsor not only provides detailed scrutiny of many key Columbus biographies dating all the way to the 16th century, but he also emerges as one of the first historians to put Columbus in his appropriate context.  Windsor wrote, “The man who becomes the conspicuous developer of any great world movement is usually the embodiment of the ripened aspirations of his time.  Such was Columbus.”[17]  Windsor’s work had not abruptly overturned the status quo view of Columbus as a great man, but it did point out the many inconsistencies in his story.  Windsor’s work did not obscure the facts.  His biography of Columbus was even-handed in its treatment of the historical record. 
            For those who still favored the traditional view of Columbus, Windsor’s work proved problematic.  The cognitive dissonance caused by Windsor’s recognition of historical blemishes in Columbus’ story caused detractors to go on the attack.  As modern-day historians Carla and William Phillips point out:
A large segment of the American public was unwilling to admit the slightest flaw in its heroes, and the reaction against Winsor and other less scholarly critics was swift and long-lasting. Several books vigorously defended Columbus against Winsor specifically.  Others simply ignored the critics and wrote modem glosses on Irving, or tried their hand at epic poetry and drama based on a laudatory view of the Admiral.[18]
Despite the misgivings of some, Windsor’s book had opened the floodgates.  A new standard, relying upon primary evidence, had inspired others to follow in Winsor’s footsteps.[19] 
            This new trend in scholarship lasted for several decades, extending even into what historians now call the progressive era.  During this time, new works, akin to that of Winsor’s biography, were produced, many of which made attempts to reconcile some of the unsavory aspects of Columbus’ history.  The progressive era had made it easier to avoid portraying Columbus as a noble man of virtue, since this era’s historians proved to be more interested in the social and economic aspects of the past as opposed to creating narratives of great men and great causes.[20]  As a result, very little change in the historiography of Christopher Columbus was created in the early decades of the 20th century.
A Columbus for the Modern World
            It was not until the 450th anniversary that a new book would emerge to redefine the historiography of Christopher Columbus.  Samuel Eliot Morison’s Admiral of the Ocean Sea: A Life of Christopher Columbus (1942) emerged as the single most impactful book on the history of Christopher Columbus since Washington Irving’s 1828 biography.[21]  Morison’s new biography dwelled primarily on Columbus’ brilliance as a navigator and explorer while downplaying his other shortcomings.  This emphasis on Columbus’ understanding of navigation by the stars and other technologies which aided in his ability to navigate fit well with the 20th century American technological revolution.[22]   
            Morison, who was himself a sailor having served in the United States Navy, traced the original route Columbus himself sailed to the New World, and in the process developed an affinity for his ability as a navigator of the oceans.  Morison also focused his attention on the details of Columbus’ surviving records, eliminating any speculation or conjecture.  For Morison, Columbus’ true history was objective and free of conjecture.  As Morison himself stated, “Speculations are for the poet and the novelist, not the historian.”[23] 
            Morison’s understanding and interpretation of Columbus’ history became the standard by which all other Columbus biographies were judged.  Morison’s history was neither overly critical nor complimentary of the great explorer but rather presented a somewhat dry chronology of a man who crossed great oceans to discover a New World.  There is little opinion or thesis to Morison’s work, but instead the reader finds obvious hints of a writer deeply determined to avoid even the slightest appearance of personal opinion. 
            The arrival of Columbus’ quincentenary marked yet another shift in historical perspective as it applied to the great explorer.  Morison’s biography had remained the dominant narrative for almost five decades, but the dawn of postmodernism meant a new interpretation of history was being pursued by yet another generation of historians.  Instead of looking objectively at the history of Columbus, these new writers converted his legacy into a litmus test meant to satisfy several competing agendas.  Or as another writer put it, “the conflicts over which academics are arguing including debates over which texts to be taught, the competing claims of western and non-western cultures and social conflicts over race, ethnicity and privilege…prove that students will need to learn to deal with them in a culturally diverse world.”[24]
            With these new perspectives on race, culture, etc. now becoming a part of history, the pendulum of scholarly inquiry had shifted from making Christopher Columbus into a great hero, to placing all blame upon his shoulders for everything from petty theft to genocide.  One of the more influential books that helped to shape popular understanding of Columbus along these lines was Howard Zinn’s controversial A People’s History of the United States (1990).  In his book, Zinn doesn’t hide his distain for the admiral of the sea, calling Columbus’ story “a history of conquest, slavery and death.”[25]  Zinn makes absolutely no attempt at a nuanced history of Columbus.  In his mind, Columbus is to blame for nearly the entirety of the slavery, rape, murder, theft and cruelty that permeated throughout the era of Spanish colonization. 
            Zinn wasn’t alone in his assessment of Columbus.  In his 1992 book, American Holocaust, author David Stannard spared no punches in his berating attack of the explorer.   Throughout the work, Columbus is portrayed as a bumbling failed explorer whose religious radicalism had inspired the man to cross the Atlantic (an achievement that was lucky at best), only to find gold and glory.[26]  Like in Zinn’s work, Columbus is blamed for the bulk of atrocities committed in the New World.  Columbus’ abilities as a navigator and governor are rarely discussed but instead the author focuses almost exclusively on the many brutalities experienced by native communities.  Columbus is, of course, the man deemed most responsible for such heinous actions. 
                This shift in the historiographical approach to Christopher Columbus, though incomplete, did yield insightful studies into how New World colonization impacted native cultures, and assisted historians in understanding how specific minority groups played important roles in the past worthy of further study.  One of the general lessons to emerge from this era of Columbus studies was to acknowledge the following:
No study of the Colombian voyages can proceed without consideration of the peoples and cultures of America before and during European contact.  A healthy recognition of the extent of the Americas’ development, the diversity of the cultures, the multiplicity of languages and interests of the people who confronted the European newcomers after 1492, provides a complete approach to understanding of the significance of the Colombian voyage.[27]
                Notwithstanding the fact that late 20th century histories of Christopher Columbus had done a far better job of illustrating the profound impact New World colonization had on native cultures and peoples, the gap left in their accounts is glaring.  Like historians of the 19th century, these accounts told only half of the story.  The failure to remain objective in the treatment of Columbus, as a historical figure who was a product of his time and place, was replaced with a desire to transport Columbus to the present where he could be judged by more modern practices and standards.  This failure has to many of today’s misunderstandings regarding both New World colonization in general, and Christopher Columbus’ role in that process specifically.  Historian John Herbert’s advise provides the appropriate warning.  He writes, “The study of this time period is very important since out of it came the shape of the entities that we refer to today as the Americas.  A caution to all who enter this important study.  Try to remember to consider the study of this period from the understanding of that time in history and not as we would wish it to be today.”[28]  This is good advise for any study of history, regardless of the time in which it is produced. 




[2] Carla Phillips and William Phillips, “Christopher Columbus in United States Historiography: Biography as   Projection.”  The History Teacher, 25, no.2 (1992), Pp. 122.
[3] Washington Erving, A History of the Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus, vol. I. (Paris: A & W Galignani,1828).  Pp. 63-64. 
[4] Ibid, 124. 
[5] Jack Shreve, “Christopher Columbus: A Bibliographic Voyage” Choice, vol. 29, January 1991, Pp. 703-711
[6] William Eleroy Curtis, Christopher Columbus: His Portraits and His Monuments, Part II.  (Chicago, Illinois: The W.H. Lowdermilk Company, 1893).  Pp. 4
[7] Ibid, 56-57.
[8] Paul Leicester Ford, Writings of Christopher Columbus: Descriptive of the Discovery and Occupation of the New World. (New York: Charles L. Webster & Co., 1892). Pp. 17.
[11] John Stephens Cabot Abbott, Christopher Columbus (New York: The University Society Incorporated, 1904). Pp.   71.
[12] Ibid, 345.
[13] Mildred Stapley, Christopher Columbus (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1915). Pp.v.
[14] Charles Kendall Adams, Christopher Columbus: His Life and His Work, (New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1892). Pp. viii.
[15] Abbott, Christopher Columbus, 1.
[16] Phillips, “Christopher in Historiography, 126.
[17]Justin Winsor, Christopher Columbus and How lie Received and Imparted the Spirit of Discovery (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1892).  Pp.497.
[18] Phillips, “Christopher in Historiography, 126.
[19] Ibid, 126. 
[20] Ibid, 127.
[21] Shreve, “Columbus: A Bibliographic Voyage,” 703. 
[22] Phillips, “Christopher in Historiography, 128.
[23] Samuel Eliot Morison, Admiral of the Ocean Sea: A Life of Christopher Columbus (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1942). Pp. 20.
[26] David Stannard, American Holocaust: The Conquest of the New World (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992).  Pp. 63-64. 
[27] John Hebert, “Exploring the Colombian Quincentenary through Historiography.”  OAH Magazine of History 5, no.4 (1991). Pp. 13.
[28] Ibid, 13

Thursday, March 26, 2020

Why Study History?


Human beings are interesting creatures.  We live in small bubbles that to us seem large in the moment.  These bubbles typically function as echo chambers which consistently reinforce the world view we’ve been fed ever since we were children.  We go on living day-to-day, not fully understanding the present, regularly worried about the future and lacking in a basic understanding of how we – as individuals and as a society – got to where we are to begin with.  As a result, we grasp as straws in a futile effort to make sense of the world around us.  This is especially true in our modern world where technology provides ample sound bites, quotes, memes, and even TikTok videos that do little more than distort our little bubbles of reality.

Breaking free of these distracting bubbles requires us to look into our past, both as individuals and as a larger society.  Breaking free means looking back at our past not for nostalgic purposes but instead to understand a greater narrative of who we are and who we hope to be.  It means asking difficult questions, uncovering ugly skeletons, and discovering both the failures and triumphs of bygone eras, all of which added together has created the world we now inherit both individually and collectively.  This is what history ultimately is and why history matters so much.  It is the study of humanity in all its glory, horror, triumph and tragedy. 

For us to benefit most from the study of history we must understand what we are talking about   If history were simply the understanding of important dates, events, etc. one would only need to memorize a World Almanac.  And though the assimilation of data does have its advantages, the mere memorization of dates and events does not make one historically literate.  Understanding history means thinking critically about the past in a way that protects the integrity of previous events while still providing meaning for the present.  As Historian John Fea states in his book, Why Study History, “Historians are not mere storytellers.  Not only do they have the responsibility of making sure they get the story right; they are also charged with the task of analyzing and interpreting the past.”[1]  In other words, the study of history is both art and science.  Having the ability to tell a meaningful story with a purpose that resonates in the present is the art.  Maintaining the integrity of that same story by relying on factual source material, placed in proper context, is the science.  This is why the study of history can be, for many students, either a tremendous thrill or the epitome of boredom.  The ability of the historian/teacher to effectively tell a meaningful story while maintaining historical integrity is what makes all the difference. 
in the first place.

Since history is much more than mere dates, this means every individual, organization, generation, etc. will often adopt their own understanding of the past.  In other words, we different people, from different walks of life, will write their own interpretation of the past.  As Pulitzer Prize-winning Historian Gordon Wood put it:

The past in the hands of expert historians becomes a different world, a complicated world that requires considerable historical imagination to recover with any degree of accuracy…The drama, indeed the tragedy of history comes from our understanding of the tension that exists between the conscious wills and intentions of the participants in the past and the underlying conditions that constrained their actions and shaped their future.[2]

Keeping Dr. Wood’s comments in mind, history becomes something more than just an art or a science.  History becomes a foreign language.  And as any student of foreign languages can attest, in order to truly learn that language one must be immersed in it.  You must embrace the culture, the people and the customs.  The same is true of history.  To truly appreciate and learn from history, one must understand the past on its own terms, by the rules, customs and climate in which it existed.  Instead of bringing the past to us, we must go to the past.  To become “fluent” means we have accepted and understood these rules and customs, which aren’t native to us, but still have tremendous value. 
                For many people, this practice of uncovering the past may not appear to provide a tangible value to society, like a doctor who heals the sick or a mechanic who can fix that which is broken.  This supposed frailty is superficial, since it fails to comprehend the true value history can and does provide to humanity.  As Historian Peter Stearns explains, “In a society that quite correctly expects education to serve useful purposes, the functions of history can seem more difficult to define than those of engineering or medicine. History is in fact very useful, actually indispensable, but the products of historical study are less tangible, sometimes less immediate, than those that stem from some other disciplines.”[3]  Though it may not yield tangible fruit, the study of history should be esteemed as a fundamental pillar to any society.


The Late mountaineer, George Mallory, who died while exploring Mount Everest, was once asked why he wanted to climb the world's tallest mountain.  His answer: “Because it’s there.”   The same can be said for the study of history.  We study the past because it’s there.  The value of that pursuit should be self-evident.  George Mallory’s ability to conquer tall peaks did not provide society with any palpable benefit but it did give humanity hope and inspiration.  The same can be said of the past.  We study history because it is our story, the story of humanity.  Like a distant peak, the past begs us to make the ascent up sharp cliffs and daunting terrain.  But once at the summit, the view becomes clear.  We can see for miles that which before could never be seen.  This is why the study of history matters. 


[1] John Fea, Why Study History? (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Publishing Group, 2013). Pp. 3.
[2] Gordon Wood, The Purpose of the Past (New York: The Penguin Press, 2008).  Pp. 10.

Sunday, October 6, 2019

Justice Earl Warren and the "Christian Nation" Question

Most conservatives remember Chief Justice Earl Warren with less than kind feelings.  Warren is sometimes called the "father of Judicial Activism" by those on the right.  Several of his key decisions include:
- Engel v Vitale, which prohibited mandatory prayer in public schools.
- Griswold v. Connecticut, which struck down a state law designed to limit access to contraception.
- Reynolds v. Sims, which essentially promoted federal authority over that of the state on matters of representation.
These, along with other decisions (many of which promoted federal supremacy or gave special privileges to criminals) have left a lasting bitter taste on the palette of most on the right.  After all, many of these decisions have served as precedents for the establishment of even greater federal authority and more activism on the part of the Judicial branch of government.

Despite this apparent hostility to Warren, there is one topic on which he and conservatives can find common ground. While attending a prayer breakfast in Washington D.C., Justice Warren delivered a speech in which he lauded America's unique Christian origin and heritage.  Time Magazine was there to capture the Chief Justice's words:
I believe no one can read the history of our country without realizing that the Good Book and the Spirit of our Savior have from the beginning been our guiding geniuses.  Whether we look to the first Charter of Virginia or to the Charter of Massachusetts Bay, or to the Fundamental Orders of Connecticut, the same objective is present.  A Christian government of Christian principles. I believe the entire Bill of Rights came into being because of the knowledge our forefathers had of the Bible and their express belief in it: freedom of belief, of expression, of assembly, of petition, the dignity of the individual, the sanctity of the home, equal justice under the law, and the reservation of power to the people.  I like to believe we are living today in the spirit of the Christian religion.  I like also to believe that as long as we do so no great harm can come to our country. 
When we examine the three documents referenced by Justice Warren (the first Charter of Virginia, the Charter of Massachusetts Bay and the Fundamental Orders of Connecticut), we discover that Warren wasn't wrong.  The Virginia Charter makes clear that one of its primary goals was, "the propagating of the Christian Religion to such People, as yet live in Darkness and miserable Ignorance of the true Knowledge and Worship of God."  The Massachusetts Bay Charter has a similar goal, namely to bring "the Natives of the Country, to the Knowledge and Obedience of the only true God and Savior of Mankind, and the Christian Faith, which is...the principal end of this Plantation."  And finally from the Fundamental Orders of Connecticut, we read that one of its main goals was, "to maintain and preserve the liberty and purity of the gospel of our Lord Jesus, which we now profess."

Naturally we should point out that these same colonies would go on to debate the specifics of what it meant to be a Christian, and whose brand of Christianity was THE true interpretation of Jesus' divine message.  Images of Ann Hutchinson squaring off with John Winthrop, or the Danbury Baptists appealing to the likes of the heathen Thomas Jefferson are too obvious to ignore.  That being said, I believe Justice Warren's message rings clear.  Despite the arguments over whose Christianity is THE American Christianity, the cultural, social and spiritual fabric of what became the United States is undeniably Christian in origin.  Benjamin Franklin's appeal to a collective "public religion" (a sort of shared Christian "Wi-Fi" network) seems to fit best.  Different faiths may access the shared Wi-Fi for different purposes, but ultimately they are sharing the same network.   


Tuesday, July 3, 2018

Vidal v. Girard and the Wall of Separation Between Church and State Debate

Was the United States founded as a Christian nation?  This question has occupied a place in my mind for more than a decade and has motivated me to spend countless hours researching a plethora of fascinating material.  I doubt I will ever reach a fulfilling resolution to this question but if I were to give my best answer today, I would say America was NOT founded as a Christian nation.  Having said that, I would also feel compelled to add that Judeo-Christian beliefs and teachings most certainly played a role -- and not some side show role -- in bringing to pass the founding of this nation.  Put another way, I believe America was PLANTED by Christian principles, but the tree which sprouted on this continent became something different.  Something better.  The "separation of church and state" that ensued was meant to STRENGTHEN both religion and government, not make them bitter enemies of one another.

This "wall" separating church and state is not, in my opinion, some impenetrable shield forever separating God from country.  Instead, I believe the wall of separation between church and state is best understood when compared to a human cell.  The semi-permeable membrane of our cells allows for the fluid (but also controlled) movement of material between the outside and inside of the cell.  Such is the case with the separation of church and state in America.  When one looks at history, the semi-permeable nature of the church/state wall becomes self-evident.  There has simply been too much fluid movement (usually controlled movement) between the worlds of religion and government for us to call this division an actual wall.

Over the years, supporters of the "Christian Nation" thesis, along with their more secular opponents, have appealed to various forms of evidence to support their respective camp.  One of those forms of evidence has been Supreme Court cases from the past.  Today I want to take a deep dive into my favorite Supreme Court case, which regularly seems to pop up in "Christian Nation" apologetic material, and I believe best supports my view of the church/state wall actually behaving more like the human cell.  

------------------------------------------------------------

The day after Christmas of 1831, Stephen Girard, a French immigrant who resided in Philadelphia, passed away at the age of 81.  Girard was a banker and philanthropist who had amassed an incredible fortune that made him the richest man at that time in the United States (some historians have argued that Girard was the 4th wealthiest American ever, when inflation is considered, behind John D. Rockefeller, Cornelius Vanderbilt and John Jacob Aster).  Girard was also a widower who had no children.  As a result, Girard elected to leave a large portion of his fortune to the City of Philadelphia.  In his will, Girard wished for the City of  Philadelphia to establish an orphanage/college for "poor male white orphans." In addition, Girard's will carried a clause which called for the complete ban on the Bible and Bible readings in the orphanage, along with a ban on every type of religious minister: 
I enjoin and require that no ecclesiastic, missionary, or minister of any sect whatsoever, shall ever hold or exercise any station or duty whatever in the said college; nor shall any such person ever be admitted for any purpose, or as a visitor, within the premises appropriated to the purposes of the said college.
On the surface Girard's request for a ban on religious ministers and the Bible itself seems incredibly judgmental and capricious.  This is an understandable conclusion, especially when we discover that Girard was somewhat hostile to religion throughout his life.  Before passing judgement, however, there is some important historical context we should consider.

The Bible Wars: Catholics v. Protestants 

The 19th century was a period of extreme growth in the United States.  The swell of European immigrants, particularly large numbers of Irish Catholics, during the 19th century, sparked a fire of anti-Catholic sentiment that consumed large segments of the American populace to include Philadelphia.   During the first decades of the 19th century, Catholic churches and clergy grew at an exponential rate. Protestants reacted by inciting discord within their ranks.  Catholics responded to this growing disapproval of their faith by mounting an attack of their own.  The strife that ensued divided American Christians on fundamental doctrinal issues.  In addition, this division caused both Protestant and Catholic adherents to double down on their faith.  All of this tension proved to be the ideal breeding ground for paranoia and conspiracy that captured the minds of even some of America's best and brightest.  For example, Samuel F. B. Morse, inventor of the telegraph and head of the American Protestant Union, argued that Catholic immigrants were part of a plot (on the part of the Pope) to convert America and lay the groundwork for the Catholic domination of the New World.

This Protestant/Catholic battle eventually found its way into America's schools.  In Philadelphia these schools were controlled by the Protestant majority, who insisted that their religious views take center stage as part of the regular school curriculum.  Catholics tried to respond to this action by establishing schools of their own, where Catholic beliefs could be taught and practiced without opposition.  This effort proved to be extremely limited in its impact, since the church could only establish a very limited number of schools.  As a consequence, most Catholic students, who wanted an education, were required to attend schools dominated by Protestant teachings.

One of the most divisive aspects of this conflict came in the form of the Bible.  Since Protestants dominated Philadelphia, they naturally wanted their children to grow up reading the King James Version (KJV) of the Bible.  As a result, the KJV was the standard religious text of the overwhelming majority of schools in the region.  Naturally, Catholics opposed the KJV and demanded that their children be allowed to read from the Douay Bible.  Bishop Francis Patrick Kenrick, who served as the third Bishop of Philadelphia, wrote to Philadelphia school authorities on this problem, stating:
Teachers shall read and cause to be read, The Bible; by which is understood the version published by command of King James. To this regulation we are forced to object, inasmuch as Catholic children are led to view as authoritative [the King James Version] which is rejected by the Church....We do not ask you to adopt the Catholic version for general use; but we feel warranted in claiming that our conscientious scruples to recognize or use the other, be respected....The consciences of Catholics are also embarrassed by the mode of opening and closing the School exercises which... is by the singing of some hymn, or by prayer. It is not consistent with the laws and discipline of the Catholic Church for her members to unite in religious exercises with those who are not of their communion.   
Catholics were quick to point out that their taxes were being used to support Protestant schools that taught Protestant beliefs from Protestant scripture; an injustice they simply couldn't stomach.  Eventually these Catholic protests found their way to the sympathetic ear of William Henry Seward (the same W.H. Seward who would one day serve as Secretary of State to Abraham Lincoln) who stated:
The children of foreigners, found in great numbers in our populous cities and towns, and in the vicinity of our public works, are too often deprived of the advantages of our system of public education, in consequence of prejudices arising from differences of language or religion...I do not hesitate, therefore, to recommend the establishment of schools in which they may be instructed by teachers speaking the same language with themselves and professing the same faith.
To make a long story short, this division between Catholics and Protestants eventually led to violence.  In what is known as the Philadelphia Bible Riots, citizens of Philadelphia (overwhelmingly Protestant) took up arms and attacked predominantly Irish Catholic neighborhoods, resulting in bloodshed.  Eventually military force was required to quell the rioters.  Ultimately these riots were the culmination of a decade-long feud between Protestants and Catholics over a number of social issues.  The battle over the Bible was the final tipping point that sparked violence.

Now let us return to the story of Stephen Girard and his fortune.  Keeping in mind the fierce division between Catholics and Protestants at the time of his death one can understand why Girard felt that a Bible/minister free orphanage might be advantageous.  It wasn't that Girard disapproved of a particular creed or denomination.  Instead Girard likely felt disdain for the violence and hostility he saw in his community because of religious intolerance.  From Girard's will:
I enjoin and require that no ecclesiastic, missionary, or minister of any sect whatsoever, shall ever hold or exercise any station or duty whatever in the said college; nor shall any such person ever be admitted for any purpose, or as a visitor, within the premises appropriated to the purposes of the said college.
[...]
In making this restriction, I do not mean to cast any reflection upon any sect or person whatsoever; but, as there is such a multitude of sects, and such a diversity of opinion amongst them, I desire to keep the tender minds of the orphans, who are to derive advantage from this bequest, free from the excitement which clashing doctrines and sectarian controversy are so apt to produce; my desire is, that all the instructors and teachers in the college shall take pains to instil into the minds of the scholars the purest principles of morality, so that, on their entrance into active life, they may, from inclination and habit, evince benevolence towards their fellow-creatures, and a love of truth, sobriety, and industry, adopting at the same time such religious tenets as their matured reason may enable them to prefer.
Enter the Supreme Court

As is the case with most who leave a large fortune, the extended relatives of Girard, some still residing in France, wanted a piece of the pie.  The argument became intense enough that eventually the Supreme Court chose to deal with the matter.  The Girard family hired attorney Daniel Webster, former Senator and Secretary of State to Presidents Harrison and Tyler, while Horace Binney represented the City of Philadelphia.

The case essentially centered on two key issues: first, could the Corporation of the City of Philadelphia take real property and act as trust in the same manner as a private individual?  The second issue dealt with whether or not Girard's will violated the laws of Pennsylvania, particularly as it related to the issue of ministers being banned from the college.  In other words, did Girard's will create an institution (the orphanage) that was specifically hostile to the Christian faith?

Daniel Webster focused most of his energies on this second issue.  In his mind, Girard's will did violate Pennsylvania law and common law because it suggested that sectarian differences within Christianity meant the entire Christian institution was a waste.  Webster stated:
[T]his objection to the multitude and differences of sects is but the old story—the old infidel argument. It is notorious that there are certain great religious truths which are admitted and believed by all Christians. All believe in the existence of a God. All believe in the immortality of the soul. All believe in the responsibility, in another world, for our conduct in this. All believe in the divine authority of the New Testament...And cannot all these great truths be taught to children without their minds being perplexed with clashing doctrines and sectarian controversies?  Most certainly they can.
Webster's defense of Christianity favored Protestant, Catholic and everyone in between, and his defense of all ministers took on an almost patriotic feel:
Sir, I take it upon myself to say, that in no country in the world, upon either continent, can there be found a body of ministers of the gospel who perform so much service to man, in such a full spirit of self-denial, under so little encouragement from government of any kind, and under circumstances, always much straitened and often distressed, as the ministers of the gospel in the United States, of all denominations!
Webster then took his attack to Girard himself:
No fault can be found with Girard for wishing a marble college to bear his name, but it is not valuable unless it has a fragrance of Christianity about it. The reasons which the testator gives are objectionable and derogatory to Christianity; they assume that a difference of opinion upon some religious tenets is of more importance than a Christian education. 
Binney's rebuttal was to predictably point out that the differences between denominations were there for a reason.  It would be utter foolishness to assume that representatives of these different sects would not favor their own beliefs:
If any clergyman was to be admitted, he would of course teach the doctrines of his own church. No two sects would agree. Some would adopt one part of the Bible, some another. If they agreed as to what was to be left out as apocryphal, they would differ about the translation of the rest. The Protestant would not receive the Douay Bible. See the difficulties that exist in New York about the introduction of the Bible as a school-book.
In the end, the court ruled in favor of Girard (or better put, the City of Philadelphia).  The Supreme Court stated that a corporation could in fact receive real property willed to its trust and effectively execute the terms of a will as easily as a private individual.  On the issue of Girard's will violating Pennsylvania and common law, Justice Joseph Story, writing for the court, stated:
It is also said, and truly, that the Christian religion is a part of the common law of Pennsylvania. But this proposition is to be received with its appropriate qualifications, and in connection with the bill of rights of that state, as found in its constitution of government. The constitution of 1790, (and the like provision will, in substance, be found in the constitution of 1776, and in the existing constitution of 1838,) expressly declares, "That all men have a natural and indefeasible right to worship Almighty God according to the dictates of their own consciences; no man can of right be compelled to attend, erect, or support any place of worship, or to maintain any ministry against his consent; no human authority can, in any case whatever, control or interfere with the rights of conscience; and no preference shall ever be given by law to any religious establishments or modes of worship." Language more comprehensive for the complete protection of every variety of religious opinion could scarcely be used; and it must have been intended to extend equally to all sects, whether they believed in Christianity or not, and whether they were Jews or infidels. 
[...]
Is an omission to provide for instruction in Christianity in any scheme of school or college education a fatal defect, which avoids it according to the law of Pennsylvania? If the instruction provided for is incomplete and imperfect, is it equally fatal? These questions are propounded, because we are not aware that any thing exists in the constitution or laws of Pennsylvania, or the judicial decisions of its tribunals, which would justify us in pronouncing that such defects would be so fatal. Let us take the case of a charitable donation to teach poor orphans reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and navigation, and excluding all other studies and instruction; would the donation be void, as a charity in Pennsylvania, as being deemed derogatory to Christianity?...It has hitherto been thought sufficient, if he does not require any thing to be taught inconsistent with Christianity.
Looking to the objection therefore in a mere juridical view, which is the only one in which we are at liberty to consider it, we are satisfied that there is nothing in the devise establishing the college, or in the regulations and restrictions contained therein, which are inconsistent with the Christian religion, or are opposed to any known policy of the state of Pennsylvania. (my emphasis).
In short, the court ruled that though Girard's will specifically forbade ministers of all denominations from teaching or even visiting the orphanage/college, it did not attack or persecute the Christian religion.  In other words, the court recognized that the wall of separation between church and state was not some absolute, impenetrable barrier but instead the semi-permeable membrane I mentioned above.  The court was quick to point out that Christianity was not only a part of American heritage but was also a part of the common law of Pennsylvania.  At the same time, the court was just as quick to defend Girard's will on the grounds that no Christian discrimination had been made by his ban on Christian ministers.  The Church/State cell membrane allowed the stream of Christian belief to seep into the American cell but prevented favoring specific sectarian parasites, thus protecting the delicate American cell from becoming cancerous.   

It should come as no surprise to those familiar with the arguments of both the Christian Nation apologists and their secularist opponents why this case would resonate with their respective opinions. Christian Nation advocates like David Barton and Robert Jeffress are quick to site the words of Justice Story, who in his ruling called America a "Christian country" and proclaimed Christianity to be a part of common law.  On the flip side, skeptics love to remind everyone that the court ultimately ruled in favor of Girard, upholding the orphanage's planned ban on Christian ministers.  But in their quest to out-quote the opposition both sides reveal the fundamental flaws of their respective positions.

The truth of the matter is Supreme Court decisions don't happen in a vacuum.  There are many influences that determine the outcome of a case.  Even though the court ultimately upheld Girard, they did not establish a precedent that outlawed religion entirely.  Instead the court discriminated on what it allowed to cross the semi-permeable church/state cell membrane.  As one historian put it, "Vidal was the Supreme Court's very first case dealing with the role of religion in the public schools, and it laid the foundation for an accommodationist view of the religion clauses." 

Simply put, Vidal v. Girard illustrates just how complex the issue of religion and government, church and state can become. For me personally, it underscores the importance that both religion and government have in our fine American republic.  The semi-permeable church/state barrier is one that we need to protect, for it is very delicate.  Allowing ourselves to stray too far into the "Christian Nation" or secularist camps could yield terrible consequences and destroy this beautiful barrier that has protected both religion and government for almost three centuries.  

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Jeff Sessions and the Interpretation of Romans 13

Last week, Attorney General Jeff Sessions made news when he referenced the Bible to defend the immigration policy of the Trump Administration.  Sessions stated:
“I would cite you to the Apostle Paul and his clear and wise command in Romans 13, to obey the laws of the government because God has ordained them for the purpose of order...Orderly and lawful processes are good in themselves and protect the weak and lawful.”
First off, I have no desire to debate immigration policy so you can rest easy in knowing that this post will not be political in nature.  Instead I am more interested in addressing Sessions' reference to the Book of Romans (chapter 13 to be specific) and the unique role this particular chapter of the Bible has played over the years.

Paul and Romans in Brief Historical Context

If we want to understand why Romans 13 has been such a controversial piece of Christian scripture we must first understand why Paul wrote it to begin with.  Most scholars agree that Paul authored Romans sometime between the years 55 and 58.  As its title suggests, Paul wrote this epistle to the "Christians" who were living in the city of Rome.  (I hesitate to use the word "Christian" because it is anachronistic to this time period.  It would be better to say "Jesus followers" or something similar.  In the interest of simplicity, however, I will continue to use the word Christian).

So what was happening in Rome that inspired Paul to write to the Roman Christians in the first place?  In the year 49, just a few short years before Paul wrote his letter, Emperor Claudius expelled all Jews from the city of Rome, due to what the Roman officials called "instigation of disturbances" among the people.  Shortly thereafter, Claudius was killed by Agrippina, his wife, in the year 54.  Long story short, Nero, the son of Agrippina, rose to power.  At first, Nero's reign was one of peace and prosperity.  Nero allowed the Jews to return to Rome and inaugurated a short era of peace and prosperity that permeated the Roman Capital.

As we all know, this period of prosperity didn't last, and Nero eventually became a degenerate who persecuted Christians to the point of death.  For Paul and his fellow Christians, this was a dark time, and Paul was certainly no fan of Nero. So why would Paul write to the Romans and tell them to submit to Nero's leadership or potentially face the wrath of God?

What we must recognize is that Paul wrote his epistle to the Romans BEFORE the persecutions of Nero had begun.  This is significant because when we read the words of chapter 13 we must keep in mind that Paul was writing during the brief period of peace and prosperity at the beginning of Nero's reign.  When we are mindful of this fact, the verses that Jeff Sessions (and many others) quote from scripture have a very different interpretation.
1. Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God.
2. Whosoever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God: and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.
3. For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil. Wilt thou then not be afraid of the power? do that which is good, and thou shalt have praise of the same:
4. For he is the minister of God to thee for good. But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil.
5. Wherefore ye must needs be subject, not only for wrath, but also for conscience sake.
6. For for this cause pay ye tribute also: for they are God’s ministers, attending continually upon this very thing.
7. Render therefore to all their dues: tribute to whom tribute is due; custom to whom custom; fear to whom fear; honour to whom honour. (Romans 13: 1-7)
Paul was not writing to a group of persecuted Christians living under the yoke of a dictatorial psychopath.  He was writing to Christians who were being given (albeit temporarily) an opportunity to thrive.  The last thing Paul wanted these new Christians to do was to create waves or even appear to oppose the new regime.  By all accounts it seemed that a new era of tolerance was upon all of Rome, and the Christians stood to benefit from it in a big way.  Why would anyone dare resist it?  Paul, like any leader, would have wanted his people to submit to such a leader.  Why wouldn't this be the will of God?

Romans 13 Over the Years

Jeff Sessions is far from the first person to reference Romans 13 as support for a political agenda.  Over the years Romans 13 has been used to oppose everything from the American Revolution to the Civil Rights movement.  Jeff Sessions referencing this chapter of the Bible is simply par for the course when it comes to politicians wielding scripture like a weapon.  As Historian John Fea put it:
America was built and born on rebellion and a sort of radical resistance to authority.  Whenever Romans 13 was used in the 18th and the 19th century — and Sessions seems to be doing the same thing, so in this sense there is some continuity — it’s a way of manipulating the scriptures to justify your own political agenda.
Romans 13 was used by Loyalist colonists to oppose the cause of American Independence.  Romans 13 was used by slave-holding Confederates as doctrinal justification to own slaves (interestingly enough, these were the same Confederates who ended up breaking with the Union.  Funny how Romans 13 could be used to justify slavery but not to oppose a break with the Union).  Romans 13 was even used in Hitler's Germany by pro-Nazi Christians to inspire support of the German Furor.  Heck, some have argued (convincingly so) that Romans 13 was Adolf Hitler's favorite chapter of the Bible.  Over at my other blog, American Creation, the topic of how Romans 13 has been interpreted by a plethora of different people with different agendas is so long that I quit counting at 36 posts.

Romans 13 is, like so many other parts of scripture, a unique tool that can be used to add credence to almost any agenda.  Paul's words can be twisted to fit just about any issue, from opposing American independence in the 18th century to justifying immigration policy in the 21st century.  The fact that these words come from the Bible is why so many are both pleased and pissed with Sessions today.  Having said that, Sessions' tactic is neither unique nor particularly convincing from a purely historical perspective.  Simply put, Romans 13 has been used to justify/oppose everything under the sun.  To call something the "will of God" by appealing to this particular chapter of the Bible is like trying to kick water uphill.

In conclusion, the Apostle Paul was not attempting in Romans 13 to write out a manifesto for Church-State relations that would stand for the next two or three millennia.  Instead, Paul's concern was pastoral and local. Paul was worried about his little band of Christians in a foreign land.  Paul was advising his followers to be loyal to a regime that was, at the very least, happy to stay our of the way of the Christians. Jeff Sessions is simply wrong when he assumes that this part of the Bible supports his argument on immigration.  It does not.  Like so many before him, who have also used this Bible chapter to support their respective cause, Sessions is simply acting like a politician, not a historian or theologian.  My guess is the Apostle Paul would want Sessions to leave him out of this whole mess because he had bigger fish to fry.




Monday, June 18, 2018

Jewish Zealots of the First Century

In last week's blog post I referenced how the origin of Judas' epithet (Iscariot) has been debated by scholars, and its possible correlation to first-century Jewish Zealotry.  In response, a good friend of mine posed an excellent question on my Facebook wall:
You mention that Judas was an extremist zealot.  I wonder why Jesus would have included such a figure to his party of  Twelve disciples if this were the case.  Could you explain?
My friend expounded upon this question in a follow up message:
 I guess it just seems weird to think of a character like Jesus associating with individuals who could be considered religious extremists.
Excellent question. The main issue at play here isn't that Jesus potentially added religious extremists to his group of twelve disciples.  The issue is that the ancient and modern worlds are dramatically different from one another.  I simply did not explain this fact very well in my post on Judas.  I hope to remedy that mistake today.

From the perspective of the modern world a religious zealot (small "z") is akin to a terrorist bomber, or at the very least somebody who accepts the word of scripture to the studies of science.  For Jews of Late Antiquity, to be a Zealot (large "Z") was something different entirely.  To better explain this important distinction let's take a ride into the past.

Imagine if you will that we have arrived at Twin Pines Mall at 1:00 a.m. to meet the great Dr. Emmett Brown. There we see Michael J. Fox (Marty McFly), sitting in the driver's seat of a DeLorean that will catapult us into the past.  Marty inputs the year "30" into the time computer with a destination that reads "Judea."  We sit back as the car rockets to a speed of 88 miles per hour.  The Flux Capacitor works its magic and...PRESTO!  We find ourselves magically teleported to a random Jewish community of the first-century.  One of our companions on this trip is a modern day Evangelical Christian (he just happens to be fluent in Aramaic so we can communicate with the locals) who insists that our first order of business is to track down some fellow Christians, in the hopes that they might be able to direct us to Jesus and his traveling band of twelve disciples.

Suddenly we discover a massive problem.  No, the problem isn't that the DeLorean couldn't have gone 88 MPH to begin with (though that would be an issue).  The real dilemma comes when our Evangelical friend begins asking locals, "Where can I find fellow Christians?"

"Christians?" Reply the locals.  "What is that?"

From behind us we hear Dr. Brown mumble under his voice, "Great Scott! Christianity is anachronistic in the first century."

"Anachronistic?"  Replies our Evangelical friend.  "I don't understand.  Tell me more?"

I'm glad you asked.

The word "anachronism" means something or someone that is outside of its correct historical or chronological timeline.  For instance, the following picture would be considered anachronistic for obvious reasons:


Abe Lincoln holding an iPhone is akin to Jews of the first century knowing what a "Christian" was.  It's a foreign concept for that particular time.  This is significant when we discuss the Zealot movement of the first century because we must seek to understand historical people and events on THEIR terms, without injecting modern concepts into the past.  So when we read of ancient zealots/zeal, we must seek to understand how they (of the past) defined that term.  To inject a modern definition of religious zealotry/zeal onto the past would be as anachronistic as Lincoln with an iPhone.  Perhaps it isn't as obvious but the anachronism is the same.  This must be our starting point, long before the DeLorean has arrived in ancient Judea.

Two things stand out to us as we continue our quest to find "Christians" in ancient Judea.  First is the ever-present reminder that Rome, the empire of all ancient empires, is very much in charge.  Second is the fact that local Jews, though accepting of their Roman occupation, are anything but pleased with the current state of affairs.  And though the Jews were anything but thrilled with their Roman overlords, living under the rule of Caesar wasn't all bad.  For example, Roman society admired and even approved of the Jewish faith.  Jews received a special exemption from having to pay homage to Caesar on account of their very old (even by this time) religious traditions.  This is another surprising difference from our world today.  In the modern world we typically give greater credibility to the newest innovation or technology, whereas the exact opposite was true of the ancient world.  This played into the hands of the Jews because the ancient nature of their faith made it more credible to their Roman overseers.  As a result, they were given more freedom of religion than many of their neighbors.

But not everything was well in Zion.  As we make our way though the various small towns/communities of Judea we quickly take note of the many subgroups of devout Jews, each providing its own interpretation on how the One True God expects His commandments to be interpreted and followed.  Groups like the Essenes (fathers of the Dead Sea Scrolls), Pharisees and yes, our Zealot friends, are seen passionately advocating for their respective interpretation of the law. Each of these groups is well versed in the Torah, spending virtually every day since childhood in remembrance of their all-important Jewish heritage.  Despite this shared emphasis on Jewish heritage, each group is at odds with one another in many respects.  Essenes are furious with the Jewish aristocracy and eventually separate themselves from society, while the Zealots are quick to remind everyone that Jewish freedom is a matter of both spiritual purity and absolute fidelity to the Law.  Historian N.T. Wright expounds upon this point when he writes:
The tradition of "zeal" is part of the freedom story...There were brief flashes of glorious history: David beating the Philistines, Solomon teaching wisdom to the whole world.  That's how it was supposed to be.  But clinging to this story meant struggling to retain hope in the face of experience.  Long ages of disappointment and disaster seemed to be the norm: ten tribes lost, and the remaining two dragged off into captivity, weeping by the waters of Babylon.  
Why did this happen?  The prophets made it clear.  It was because Israel sinned.  That was the deal God established in the first place: "Now that I've rescued you, stay loyal to me and you'll live in the land.  Turn away from me, worship other gods, and I'll kick you out" (Pp. 30).
In other words, absolute obedience and fidelity were the only surefire way to safeguard Israel's continued prosperity and protection.  For the Jewish Zealot, ensuring that fellow Jews understood this mantra and fell in line was akin to David slaying Goliath.  Complacency had no place among God's chosen people.  The scriptures were full of examples of the kind of "zeal" that was to be emulated by all Jews who sincerely sought to defend God's one true path.  Whether it be the tale of Phinehas, grandson of Aaron, who slew with a javelin a man caught a-whoring with a Moabite woman in a tent (Numbers 25: 1-9), or the Prophet Elijah, who successfully lured the worshipers of Baal into a showdown with Israel's God (1 Kings: 18 and 19), the message was the same: those who stand to defend the One True God, with zeal, can be counted with the ranks of Israel's greatest heroes.

But our Evangelical friend doesn't care about "Zealots."  As he quickly reminds us, we aren't on this voyage to hang out with Jews.  We are here to track down the followers of Jesus.  Surely they would have nothing to do with these Jewish radicals!

This is where the story gets messy.  What our Evangelical friend fails to recognize is that the earliest followers of Jesus saw themselves NOT as Christians (as explained above, this is anachronistic to the time), but rather as devout Jews who saw in Jesus fulfillment of the prophecy regarding the coming of the Messiah.  Jewish Zealots were not exempt from this belief.  They too longed for the coming of the Messiah who would save God's people from the bondage that seemed to surround them.  Men like Simon (the Zealot) and (as mentioned in my post from last week) Judas, found in Jesus the fulfillment of the Messianic prophesy.

The best example of Jewish Zealotry is found in Saul of Tarsus.  The man who would eventually become one of the most zealous defenders of the risen Christ was originally a Zealot who saw in the earliest followers of Jesus the same perversion that Phinheas had seen in his day.  This helps us to understand why Saul was more than happy to persecute (in his mind it was no persecution but righteous zeal) men like St Stephen, who was stoned to death for his "blasphemy."  After his conversion experience, Saul (Paul) reminds us that he was a successful Jew precisely because he was "more exceedingly zealous of the traditions of my fathers" than others (Galatians 1: 14)  Paul's devotion to Zealotry was the motivation for both his hatred of, and later conversion to, the Jesus movement.  The same can be said of Judas but in reverse.     

In conclusion, Zealotry was not some word meant to simply emphasize a person's devotion to Jesus or Judaism.  It was a movement that invoked a religious, political and social passion for change.  Those Zealots who found in Jesus the fulfillment of the Jewish Messianic prophecy used that passion to vehemently defend the cause of Christ (Paul) or oppose it (Judas), even to the death.  Thanks to Dr. Brown and Marty McFly, our journey back in time has helped us to better understand the truth.

Now if we could only get a hold of that sports almanac and make some money!

Next blog post: Was Jesus a Zealot?

Monday, June 11, 2018

Why Did Judas Betray Jesus?

It has been over a year since I last wrote on this silly little blog.  To be honest, I simply grew bored with it.  In recent weeks, however, I have felt a desire to rekindle the hobby.  Only time will tell if this new flame lasts or burns out as quickly as it sparked. 

For those who know me, you know that I have a deep love of history.  Ever since my childhood I have maintained an interest in the past.  My dad, who was himself a history buff, was the first person to inspire my interest in the study of history.  Since then I have made the study of history an important part of my life (it even became my chosen area of study in college).

And though there are a myriad of fascinating eras/events/people worthy of study, two particular historical periods have served to capture my interest more than any other: early colonial American history and first-century Christianity.  Today I hope to discuss an important event from the latter.

All of us who attended Sunday School are familiar with the story of Judas Iscariot, the apostle of Jesus who eventually betrayed him to Jewish officials.  In a nutshell (depending on which Gospel account you read), Judas betrayed Jesus because he was inspired of the devil (John 6:70-71) and/or because he caved to the monetary temptation that was thirty pieces of silver (Matthew 26:14-16).  Interestingly enough, Jewish law mandated that thirty pieces of silver be the compensation for a slave's life (see Exodus 21:32).  In addition to these Bible accounts, we can and should consider what the Gospel of Judas (a late 2nd-century Gnostic account discovered in the 1970s) has to say on the matter.

Keeping these accounts in mind, can we reasonably reconstruct a motive for Judas' infamous betrayal of Jesus?  Are there other motivating factors we need to consider?  Is it even possible for us to reconstruct (from conflicting accounts) Judas' ultimate motivations?  I believe the answer is: yes...kinda...sorta...possibly.

I recently posed this question to Bart Ehrman, one of the foremost professors of New Testament studies at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.  Dr. Ehrman is a rock star in the world of New Testament studies and his work has proven invaluable to our understanding of this important and complicated era of the past.  In a nutshell, Dr. Ehrman believes that Judas' betrayal of Jesus was ultimately motivated by a belief that Jesus had crossed a line and had taken things too far, particularly while preparing for the Passover in Jerusalem.  Dr. Ehrman writes:
Throughout Mark’s account Jesus has been preaching about the coming Kingdom of God, speaking about the coming of the Son of Man in judgment, indicating to his disciples that it would happen soon. Then he comes to Judea from Galilee, cleanses the Temple, and is anointed by an unknown woman in the town of Bethany. Apocalyptic fervor among his disciples must have been at its peak. Jesus has just given his lengthiest apocalyptic discourse in Mark 13, describing what will happen soon, at the end of the age. When he is anointed in Bethany, what does it mean? The act, of course, could be interpreted in a number of ways. If Jesus is about to become king, could it not be a symbolic statement that he is about to assume the throne as the Lord’s “anointed”? Possibly that’s what the disciples think. But Jesus does not interpret it this way. Instead he indicates that this unnamed woman has anointed his body “for its burial” (Mark 14:8). 
Every time Jesus speaks about his coming death in Mark, the disciples misunderstand him: isn’t he to be the future king who will rule, and aren’t we to rule with him? So too here. As soon as Jesus speaks of his impending death, Judas goes out to betray him.
Is it possible that we have a historical recollection of the real situation here? For Judas, Jesus’ interpretation of his anointing may have been the last straw.
I should point out that though Dr. Ehrman suggests this as a likely possibility, he maintains that the historical record is simply too inconclusive for us to know for certain why Judas would betray Jesus.

In addition to Dr. Ehrman's hypothesis, other valuable suggestions have been given over the years.  A few of them include:
-That Judas, though selected as one of the Twelve, never actually recognized Jesus as the Son of God but instead only recognized Jesus as a great teacher or rabbi (Matthew 26:25).
-That Judas had an unquenchable lust for money that could not be cured (John 12: 4-6 and Matthew 26: 14-16).  Some have suggested that since Judas was essentially in charge of the finances for all the apostles (John 13:29) that he had always maintained a love of worldly wealth.
-That Judas was actually COMMANDED by Jesus to betray him.  As I mentioned above, the newly discovered Gospel of Judas makes this very claim.  The record tells us that Jesus knew his time had come and he needed Judas to set his plan into motion.  This meant betraying Jesus to the High Priests.
 And though I appreciate many aspects to these (and other) theories regarding Judas' betrayal, I ultimately believe they fall somewhat short, primarily because they are too simplistic.  In my opinion, Judas' betrayal of Jesus is a little more complicated that we would like to admit.  It may be easier (and more pleasing) to simply say "Judas did it for the money" or "Judas was inspired of the devil" but such explanations lack in giving Judas credit where credit is due.

It probably sounds weird for me to say that Judas "deserves credit" so let me explain.  I am NOT suggesting that Judas deserves praise for having betrayed Jesus, nor am I suggesting that Judas was a good guy.  Far from it.  What I AM suggesting, however, is that Judas is too often portrayed as a devilish punk who was too stupid to see the error of his ways, while the other apostles were pure as the driven snow.  This narrative (which has essentially permeated New Testament historiography for centuries) is simply infantile and fails to recognize just how important and intelligent Judas ultimately was.

Like so many villains before and after him, Judas' legacy has been subjected to ad hominem attacks that serve to pacify the believing Christian's emotional need for a "bad guy" but ultimately do little in terms of reconstructing the actual man.  It may FEEL better for us to think of Judas as a Hitleresque scoundrel who lurked in the shadows (interestingly, most artistic depictions of Judas portray him as a dark and loathsome figure) but feelings don't depict historical reality.

Judas' epithet (Iscariot) has been debated by scholars for generations.  Some believe the name is a Greek rendering of a Hebrew phrase, meaning "Man of Kerioth."  Other scholars maintain that "Iscariot" is a Latin corruption of the Aramaic word which means "dagger man."  This could prove significant because the phrase "dagger man" could suggest that Judas was a member of the Sicarii, a branch of Jewish Zealots who used aggression and violence to oppose Roman occupation.

In order to understand Judas better we need to better understand what Jewish Zealotry (capital Z) was, and why it likely influenced Judas' view of the world.  The term "Zealot" refers to a political/religious movement in Judea that sought the overthrow of Roman domination.  Jewish Zealots were an extremist branch of Judaism, distinct from rival Pharisees, Sadducees and Essenes, who had taken their training in the Torah to the extreme.  As New Testament historian N.T. Wright has pointed out, these Zealots relied on the stories of "righteous vengeance" like that of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, who smashed the golden idols of the wicked to protect God's true temple rituals (Numbers 16:35-40), or the tale of Judas Maccabeus, who led the triumphant march against Seleucid intruders (the story of Hanukkah), to inspire them to a zealous defense of the One True God of Israel.  These Zealots saw it as their divine commission to defend even to the death the commandments of God in a way that we today might call terrorism (but they would call the CORRECT devotion to God).

In essence, the Sicarri were a subgroup of Zealots who took this doctrine even further.  In other words, they were the extremists of the extremists.  As such they were uncompromising in their devotion to the Torah and in their allegiance to the ONE TRUE GOD of ISRAEL!!!

If we see Judas in this light, we can better understand why we would be mad enough at Jesus to betray him.  Jews like Judas had long been awaiting their heroic Messiah, who would deliver Israel from bondage.  This Messiah was seen as a political (and possibly military?) figure who was endowed by God to lead God's people to their long-awaited victory.  Initially Judas found that figure in Jesus.  When he heard Jesus' declaration that he and his Twelve would rule over the Kingdom of God Judas took it as gospel...

...until he realized he had made a mistake.

It wasn't until his arrival in Jerusalem that Judas finally saw Jesus for who he was.  Instead of being the promised Messiah of political and military might, Jesus became (in the mind of Judas) an impostor.  It was (for Judas) a betrayal of the largest sort.  Jesus was just a man, like so many other fraudulent messiahs before him.  For Judas, who had devoted so many years of his life to this cause, his sense of loss must have been immeasurable.

This sense of loss could only be matched by Judas' need for "righteous vindication" (again, think of his training and experience as a Zealous Sicarri).  The only natural course of action was to turn Jesus over to the authorities as the common criminal he was (receiving the payment for the life of a common slave: 30 pieces of silver).  It was the final act of betrayal, but for Judas the betrayal had not been of his doing.  It was Jesus who had betrayed all of Judea.  It was Jesus who had concocted the devious scheme.  It was Jesus who was the Hitleresque villain.  In Judas' mind, his act of turning Jesus over to authorities was the "patriotic" thing to do.

Perhaps this also helps us better understand Judas; death.  Did Judas commit suicide (assuming we accept Matthew's take on Judas' death) because of felt remorse for betraying Jesus?  Or was it because he felt he had been betrayed those many years into believing in a false messiah?  Was Judas racked with guilt for having condemned God's "only begotten Son?" Or was he mad at himself for having so easily fallen victim to the clever tactics of yet another con artist?

Perspective is ultimately the determining factor in all of this.  For the believing Christian it is simply easier to accept Judas as the scheming, plotting, evil man he was, and since Christianity has come to dominate modern Western culture this is the narrative that most appeals to our senses.  If, however, one is able to take a step outside of his/her world view and try to understand Judas as HE saw the world, then another potential narrative exists.  Which perspective is correct?  You be the judge.