In my Lenten Project, this year we have been looking at some of the ways in which the early church and today’s religious consciousness corresponds or, contrariwise, finds no connection. The biggest contrary maybe the one the church is observing this week-end, that is the idea of sacrifice. In the ancient world, as far back as we can track human consciousness, the idea that the gods could be persuaded, manipulated or appeased by gifts or offerings of some sort has been both obvious and ubiquitous. It was nigh on five centuries after Christ that the practices finally died out. The centre of the early Christian teaching was not that sacrifice was wrong or unnecessary but that, being necessary and humans being unable to fulfil the necessity, Jesus came and offered himself as the ‘one, true, perfect sacrifice’.
One can think of examples from the bible and from classical literature where the necessity for a sacrifice to a god was normal, the accepted protocol, even when the offering to be delivered up was a dear child, as with Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac or Agamemnon delivering up his daughter Iphigenia in order to have the blessing of good weather for his voyage to war. The sacrifice might be appalling but the necessity of it wasn’t questioned. Sacrifice was a normal part of everyday life in the ancient world, grounded in a stable, unquestioned belief system.
It is not so for us. The concept of sacrifice in order to win or keep divine favour is no longer in our psychic, intellectual or cultural make up. Of course, the New Testament writers interpreted the death of Jesus in that way, sacrifice was their intellectual framework. It isn’t ours so we must make sense of the Crucifixion and Resurrection (because I don’t believe in taking one without the other) within our own limited 21st century framework.
That Jesus died on the Cross and that He rose on the third day is not up for questioning. Looking deeply into the New Testament writings one gets a sense that there was not a clear-cut definition of these events from the very beginning. The writers were struggling to make sense of something that defied everything they knew. Their understanding of ‘how the world works’ dictated the way they interpreted the facts, and they didn’t all match. Our understanding likewise must dictate how we interpret the facts and that interpretation has to be very different.
The admonition from Paul to the Corinthians (I Cor 1: 10 -18) speaks to this very problem. He argues that people from different traditions should not squabble about who is right and who is not, in particular with reference to ‘the power of the Cross’. That is his central point. The various ways in which the traditions make sense of it is secondary and should not be allowed to be the cause of dissention and disunity and so lose sight of what is most real.
There is a difference between facts and how we interpret those facts. Making sense of the Death and Resurrection for our day is a demanding task, maybe it is easier to stick with traditional ways of seeing it; maybe it seems blasphemous to question the traditions. But one might also contemplate an oft quoted quip of Carl Jung, “God spoke two thousand years ago and hasn’t been allowed another word since.” There is something in me that senses that there is ‘another word’ we need to listen for and much to be gained by accepting that challenge. My private fantasy is that if Paul were around today, he too would be wanting something that plunges deeper into the Meaning.
I recognise that millions of people past and present have found and find meaning and solace in the traditional understanding. My issues, my conclusions are mine alone and not meant to disrupt, disturb or discomfort the faith stance of anyone else. I write them up, in the further recognition that there are many people, say interested outsiders or people who once were Christians who may well find in my exploration a resonance to some of their own questioning.