Kim Gentes

What Wright does with this book is bring us more clearly into the world of the historical first century Jew who became the central character of human history, namely Jesus Christ. Instead of interpreting the Jesus from our modern or post-modern contexts, Wright takes us into the world of prophetic Messianic writings, temple symbols and worship, political and nationalistic pursuits that enraptured the Jewish culture during the time of Jesus of Nazareth.  In "The Challenge of Jesus" Wright explains Jesus as the a person primarily driven through vocation, to fulfill his calls as Israel's Messiah, the hope and son of David and ultimately the light of the world. Wright sees Jesus as fully aware of his mission to be the Messianic figure that not only fulfills the prophetic writings, but actually displaces many of the essential symbols of his Jewish heritage (Sabbath, Temple, Torah and more). In this act of becoming the king of the Jews through claim, he seeks to become the replacement for the main functions of the Jewish Temple as well, taking on himself the activity of forgiveness of sins, worship, community and celebration.  Likewise Jesus articulates in himself a replacement for the Sabbath and the Torah wherein Jesus becomes the embodied Word of God and the sabbath rest for man.

Wright attempts to communicate that Jesus certainly thought of himself as messiah and vocationally as the son of Abba, doing His will on earth, though he doesn't go so far as to say Jesus knows himself to be God omniscient under human skin.  And this is good, because it requires us to spin 180 degrees around and back up 2000 years into the question and see it from the historical perspective looking forward from the first century on, rather than backward from the 21st century looking back two millennium.  Our aspect, though strange at first, takes on much brighter inspection on the life of Jesus and the often misunderstood meanderings of the first  century church. What Wright proposes is a thoroughly eschatological viewpoint of the Christ story and of early church history- one in which the hopes of Israel are so completely fulfilled in Jesus that its abrupt and contrasting arrival is violently opposed by many of the  effected parties who would have their positions and power challenged if what Jesus said was true: the Pharisees, the Sanhedrin, the Romans, the Teachers of the Law, the revolutionary Zionists and almost any power-based organization.  But through the death and resurrection of Jesus, He becomes the vindicated Messiah and the long waited Savior of Israel.  But He does so by surprising them in doing this as both completely man and as God-in-the-flesh, dwelling among humans as the new fully human way to live.

Of minor complaint in reading this book is that Wright does a disservice in his work that puts off the reader to consider the writer perhaps less interested in the text than the reader is. He reflects, not once or twice but literally a dozen or more times on the fact that he will not take much time or space to support a theory or two in depth. Presumably he has better things to do than fill the book with back-story, recounted data and textual references, but the student and reader isn't convinced. In the end, this constant reminding that he does serves to weaken the text left intact in the manuscript. I'd even much rather he said that he deals with this all in detail in another volume. He says this occasionally, though not enough to convince the reader that they are either a novice who will get those details if they keep going or an idiot if they haven't read all the historical documents he takes us for having needed to fully explain his point. I recognize that this book is an attempt to articulate the content of "Jesus and the Victory of God" (his scholarly account of this same topic), but Wright would have kept the thing clear if he didn't try to constantly complain about having to right such a "boiled down" version - he should have made his point a couple of times then stopped.

What conclusively and profoundly is pointed out by Wright in this book is the concept of Jesus fitting well into the narrative of Jewish history- what he calls the “meta-narrative”. This particular label provides a stark rendering of how to conceive of the life of Jesus inside the great story. Not just a story for his time, but for the ancient peoples and for us today, as for those yet to come.  Jesus did not “hi-jack” the story line of humanity, interjecting a bit of God to help us get along. In Wrights “Challenge”, Jesus becomes the pivotal character, at the pivotal time, on the pivotal issues. All of which helps us understand much better how to orient ourselves to the truth about God, humanity and our particular part in it.  How we fit in is becomes a more clear rendering within of the meta-narrative. It forces us to consider starting at and with Jesus perspective and point in time rather than a selfish modern (or post-modern) rant effusing arrogantly over top of past generations, by interpreting our place and time as having more particular influence upon a clear reading of the meanings of Jesus, His life, the gospel story, the New Testament and even the entire human history.

One important sub-plot of this meta-narrative was the theme of Exodus, which reverberated through Jewish tradition. Jesus came to fulfill, in the Jewish, story the exodus out of the captivity of sin into the promises land.  This was likely the prime story recounted and in the mind of his hearers.  But since Jesus did not fulfill this with Israel as a political or military triumph, leaders and people as a whole missed the point of Jesus “revolution”. Nevertheless, Jesus acts were the true exodus, not just for Israel, but the whole world, bringing about the engagement of the Kingdom of God on earth. The King was here, and the activity of walking people out of Egypt via the exodus into their land of forgiveness of sin was here.  The fulfillment of Christ across this story was the thoroughly Jewish rendering of God’s salvation come to earth.

Amazon Book Link: http://amzn.to/HwNNeV

Review by Kim Gentes

Thomas Cahill has developed an extended series of books sweeping across the development of Western civilization and religion. In this series, entitled “the Hinges of History”, is a book called “Desire of the Everlasting Hills”. It is focused specifically on the history, background, life and influence of Jesus of Nazareth. Cahill’s perceptive storytelling is one of the most compelling aspects of this book, and he combines it with an obviously studied background in history (and religion) to produce an imaginative retelling of the story of Christianity’s central figure.

The author begins on the slopes of the Roman hill of Janiculum. He explores the idea that hills, and people who traverse them, have stories that can carry us into antiquity and back again, teaching us as we journey.  He uses this device to engage the reader into the story of the cultures in which Jesus was born,  most specifically, the Greeks, Jews and Romans.  In taking the time to explore the cultural backdrop for the world in which Jesus will appear, Cahill explores Alexander the Great, and the Greek conquest and influence which Alexander attended upon the ancient world. He moves, eventually, to the history of the Jews during the millennium before Christ, detailing the Maccabean revolution and its impact in the Jewish mindset and territory. What Cahill does better than any other (that I’ve read) is tie together thoughts from various streams of history and connect the dots for the reader. At times, his efforts seem speculative, bordering on pure fiction to create “history”. But it is from this approach that we get some of his best thoughts- thoughts that are really great questions more than grand statements.

For example, he talks of both Jewish and Greek voices that long for a messianic figure to come to bring hope. This quote is poignant Cahill theorizing:

"Despite the remarkable affinity of these lines with Isaiah’s prophecy of the Peaceable Kingdom, Virgil knew nothing of Isaiah or any of the Jewish holy books. How, then, explain the striking similarity of images—the response of nature, the favor of God that rests upon the child, the “gift of divine life” (ille deum vitam accipiet), even the seeming allusion to a virgin birth? One may chalk it all up to coincidence. Or one may say that, beneath the surface differences of each culture—whether of cynical Romans, theoretical Greeks, fantasizing Jews, cyclical Orientals, or post-Christian Occidentals—there beats in human hearts a hope beyond all hoping, the hope of the hopeless, the hope of those who would disclaim any such longing, the hope of those who like the two tramps in Waiting for Godot seem to be waiting in vain, a hope—not for an emperor, not for an Exalted One—but for a Just One."[1]

Desire of the Everlasting Hills does this type of historical rendition at many turns. The point isn’t that I don’t agree with Cahill. I actually do. I do believe that history and cultures were waiting for a messiah and that it was ingrained in our nature to desire him. But that belief, at least for me, comes from a belief in the Messiah himself. Cahill goes from saying “one may chalk it all up to coincidence” to saying “beneath the surface.. of each culture” is a desire for a messiah. I think his theorizing on such points is wonderful, but he sometimes make the points as though they are fact. This is where I think much of the difficulty comes with taking his books seriously as history.

In any case, the book explores one of the most thoughtful understandings and interpretations of Jesus life, words and ministry. And though it might chafe against “historical” rigor at times, it is Cahill’s speculative nature that gives his story about Jesus such vibrancy as to seem thrilling and alive. He seems to see both the minutia of how the street may have smelled while in the same paragraph understanding the grand themes of Jesus ministry. Here is an example that I found brilliant:

The division points to Jesus’s two audiences: the powerless, who need to be reminded that God loves them and will see to their ultimate triumph, and the powerful, who need to be goaded by the example of those who have abandoned their comfort for the sake of others. The purpose of the Gospel is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.[2]

The recognition of Jesus focus (in the beatitudes) to teach both the powerless and the powerful is beautiful. He restates this theme multiple times in the early section of the book:

JESUS KEEPS TWO AUDIENCES clearly in view: the poor and miserable; and those who, because they are neither poor nor miserable, have a religious obligation to stand in solidarity with those at the bottom of the sociopsychological heap.[3]

Cahill’s respect for the Jews is abundantly clear in this book, as he uses it as the precipice from which he believes Jesus extends his influence into civilization:

Western values of individual destiny, hope for the future, and justice for all began in the world of the Jews, the inventors of the West.[4]

There is far too much excellent content in Desire of the Everlasting Hills to summarize in this short report. Again, the authors insights into so much of the life and context of Jesus world is fascinating, informing and (it seems to me) tethered in some way to an underlying affinity or even belief in Christ and the message he brought. I have just three more things that stood out strongly in my reading of this book.

Reflecting back to my earlier concern that Cahill adds a layer of personal storytelling to his narrative of history, this particularly concerned me when he says of a section of the Gospel of John:

This entire passage sounds like the Synoptics and could easily be slipped into Luke’s Gospel at 21:38, where it would make a perfect fit. It was, in fact, excised from Luke, after which it floated around the Christian churches without a proper home, till some scribe squeezed it into a manuscript of John, where he thought it might best belong.[5]

There is strong evidence that Cahill’s view is correct, but again, his approach to simply stating this as fact without a hint of any other possibility lends an air of presumption to his attitude about history, at least from this readers perspective[6]. Be that as it may, his most powerful points in the book, dwarf such concerns. One major point he uncovers is the counter-narrative that Jesus brings (embedded within the monotheistic foundation of the Jews) to the world of the Greeks and Romans (and all other peoples to that point in history), where he says:

To understand the ancient Greeks and Romans we must be alert to the great gap that separates their views, and those of most people throughout history, from the opinions of our own time. They knew nothing of ideas such as would later be spoken in the Sermon on the Mount, and they would have regarded them as absurd if they had[7]

I won’t cite details for the brilliant point of Cahill’s where he explains that Jesus message was so powerful, that at tepid points of possible obliteration of the Christian faith, great followers of Jesus have self-sacrificed (in the manner of their Christ) to renew and endure the legacy (and community) of Jesus and his message.  At its close, Desire of the Everlasting Hills concludes with a blaze of glory, making an assertion that most people will be hard pressed to deny after the wonderful volume that has just been read. All of Cahill’s style, wit, and perceptive genius come to a head in his penultimate statement:

...whether we are Jew or Christian, believer or atheist, the figure of Jesus—as final Jewish prophet, as innocent and redeeming victim, as ideal human being—is threaded through our society and folded into our imagination in such a way that it cannot be excised. He is the mysterious ingredient that laces everything we taste, the standard by which all moral actions are finally judged.[8]

 Amazon Book Link: http://amzn.to/ynjhk3

Review by Kim Gentes

[1] Cahill, Thomas, “Desire of the Everlasting Hills: The World Before and After Jesus (Hinges of History)”. (New York, NY: Anchor Books 1999)., Kindle Edition, Location 960

[2] Ibid., Location 1154

[3] Ibid., Location 1242

[4] Ibid., Location 4500

[5] Ibid., Location 4121

[6] More than just my perspective, I contact 3 different scholars/bible teachers and asked them about Cahill’s statement. All agreed that it is reasonably sure that the “pericopae adulterae” was not originally in the John text, though theories on its origination and author were just that- theories. One scholar notes, “I do not think that most scholars have any idea where it came from. It is not unjohannine in style, but it is clearly not original in after John 7:52, for it breaks up a story. I would say that it is a story that God only knows where it came from, and which two groups of folk inserted in two different places.” (Dr. Peter H. Davids/2012). In other words- God only knows, not Cahill.

[7] Ibid., Location 4527

[8] Ibid., Location 4684

Pensées is a collection of thoughts, from French mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal. In many ways Pascal was an early post-modernist thinker, perceiving and challenging (successfully) not only principles in mathematics and physical sciences, but in the philosophical and religious realms as well. The Pensées (which literally means “thoughts”) is not a completed book, but a point-style outline of important thoughts, that read more like proverbs than treatise.  The work was published posthumously and is missing a readable flow from thought to thought.

However, the concepts presented in Pensées are quite clear- they are a philosophical apologetic for the Christian faith. In Section III of the work (titled “the necessity of the wager”) Pascal clarifies his intention to speak directly to a specific group of people:

A letter to incite to the search after God. And then to make people seek Him among the philosophers, sceptics, and dogmatists, who disquiet him who inquires of them.[1]

From this point, Pascal lays out a logical progression of deconstructing arguments against Christianity.  However, Pascal is not saying that logic or reason as the answers to finding God. In fact, his premise is that reason will not be able to lead you through its processes to knowledge of God.  He uses philosophy and reason to counter the notion that reason is a singular tool to concluding God exists- this dichotomoy is not lost on Pascal and he tries to reconcile this by such paradoxical renderings as :

Submission.--We must know where to doubt, where to feel certain, where to submit. He who does not do so, understands not the force of reason.[2]

and

If we submit everything to reason, our religion will have no mysterious and supernatural element. If we offend the principles of reason, our religion will be absurd and ridiculous.[3]

In the midst of his musing about reason and heart (the contrast of the two), Pascal famously pens the phrase “The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know.”[4] But he winds that discussion eventually around to a simple, clear and understandable summation: “Heart, instinct, principles.”[5]

He tackles a number of topics including integrity of searching for God to the seriousness of eternity and the scope of human lifespan. At almost every turn, Pascal uses the insights of a scientific mindset (along with its proofing mechanisms) to first examine a topic and then lead you to a conclusion.  This progression is sprinkled generously with several “proverb-like” sentences in which he levels basic human truths in seeming juxtaposition to the more straightforward point-building scheme of proofing his opinions.  Occasionally, he also uses a dialogical counterplay of asking us to imagine things about one position and then asking questions about himself, all the while inferring an obvious point toward the validation of the Christian position as a logical premise. 

But it is the punctual proverbs that surprise most readers, for example:

Instability- it is a horrible thing to feel all that we possess slipping away. 213 Between us and heaven or hell there is only life, which is the frailest thing in the world.[6]

One of the most well known portions of Pensées is an argument that is popularly called “Pascal’s Wager”. This proposal is basically a logical explanation for why it would be unreasonable to not believe in God. Through using his wager, he hopes that intellectual people will consider believing in God to be a proper “wager” to take.

In a summary of proofs on believing in God the author gives yet another dailogical possibility:

Two kinds of persons know Him: those who have a humble heart, and who love lowliness, whatever kind of intellect they may have, high or low; and those who have sufficient understanding to see the truth, whatever opposition they may have to it.[7]

Pascal comes to this point, saying that people may come to God through the mind or the heart, and both are acceptable and not to be shunned.

Amazon Product Link: http://amzn.to/rFEhfy

Review by Kim Gentes

[1]Blaise Pascal, “Pascal's Pensées ”, (Public Domain Books, Kindle Edition), Pg. 53

[2]Ibid., Pg. 78

[3]Ibid., Pg. 79

[4]Ibid., Pg. 80

[5]Ibid., Pg. 81

[6]Ibid., Pg. 63

[7]Ibid., Pg. 83

Studying is different than experiencing. One normally studies to gain knowledge, while experience leads to something slightly different- understanding. Understanding is the signature of Thomas Cahill's now iconic book "How The Irish Saved Civilization". One enters into it hoping to learn something, but one leaves it with understanding. This happens because Cahill becomes not only a wordsmithing instructor in our class on the ancient world, but an articulate story-teller of the larger narrative of western civilization.

Beginning with the 5th century (and weaving back and forth through time as necessary), Cahill explores the foundations of the fall of the Roman Empire, including the sentiment and arrogance of a Roman leadership, fat from centuries of literal world-wide conquest. From there, we learn the common practice of slavery (through banditry and outright capture) that was rife through Europe. This quickly leads to an introduction to the Irish and their war parties that scourged the coast of Britain, capturing thousands of slaves for its tribal societies back on Ireland. Briefly, we hear of one such slave that was brought from "civilized" Roman camped Briton to the wiles of Irish clans- the young Patricius. Of course, he will become a central player in this story, but not yet.

The book then detours back to continental Europe and delves extensively into the foundations of Christian apologetic thinker and literary giant Augustine of Hippo. After a few foundational discussions on his Greek influence via Plato and Socrates, we are taken on a brief survey of the Greek classical writers Homer, Virgil and Cicero. Cahill does all this seeming meandering to establish one thing- a lens (via Augustine) through which he can paint his picture of the ancient world. Once he thinks you have gotten this, the book moves on to explain the destruction of the Roman empire. He explains how wave after wave of barbarian tribes ransacked Rome (and its power centers) not only of its gold, grain and able-bodied workers, but washed its culture, science and literacy into oblivion. Cahill puts it poignantly:

As Roman culture died out and was replaced by vibrant new barbarian growths, people forgot many things—how to read, how to think, how to build magnificently...[1]

But he quickly points out that amidst this destructive scene, one thing did stand- the church:

There was, moreover, one office that survived intact from the classical to the medieval polis: the office of Catholic bishop.[2]

Cahill's Europe is taking shape, and we see that while governments were failing, the religious institution of the Catholic church was maintaining a sense of sovereignty, and almost untouchable preeminence. At this point, the book turns back to Ireland and we get a full chapter of history on the Celts- ranging back to 300-500 BC and brought forward through recitation of their literature (mostly extensive quotes from the Tain) and some wide assortment of lore and nuance to the uniquely Irish persona.

By the time we are caught up on the Irish story, we are reintroduced to Patricius, who by now has been explained as the slave who eventually escaped his Irish captors. In a tremendous revelation from God, he re-envisions his life as a missionary to the homeland of his former captives. He returns to Ireland and almost single-handedly converts the entire country (made up of several tribal "kingdoms") to Christianity. The most profound implication of this, for Cahill, becomes the marked change of the Irish (and its Patrician monks in particular) from lives of barbarism to cultured thinkers, readers, and most of all, scribes.

Cahill is clear that Christianity received the Irish (who never gave up their unique historical, cultural and psychological imprint) through the vehicle of Patrick, and in doing so retained its unique identity as Irish. But it became, at just the right time, the center for collection, reclamation and copy of nearly all western classical literature, whether it be religious, cultural or scientific. The Irish monasteries became the information databases of western civilization, at a time when the Roman world was being decimated by the constant infusion of military campaigns from the previously pummelled peoples of neighboring states. Patrick gave Christianity and classical literacy to the Irish, and Irish in turn, kept it for safe-keeping until the destruction of the Roman world was complete. Once it was, according to Cahill, the Irish monasteries and its monks flooded the British, Gaulish and continental coasts of Europe to bring that literature back to the western world.

Cahill's work is undeniably impressive. Both as historical comprehension (which the rest of us can appreciate and understand without the lifetime of historical research it would require), and as narrative art, "How The Irish Save Civilization" is a monumentally riveting book. It is story, history, and yarn, all wrapped well into a brilliant thesis.

For certain, Cahill pontificates on his personal soapbox throughout, and as he wraps up, his book. A fair warning is also given to Cahill's seeming supposition that he must use the F-word at least once in each of his books, which he complies with (though in high style, if you can imagine) here.  Like, his book "Mysteries of the Middle Ages", Cahill has a couple of axes to grind and he isn't shy about brandishing his blade when the right sharpening stone comes along. However, this should not deter any reader from reading his exceptional insights. He takes the time to point out injustice, conflict and modern problems that could well learn from the lessons of antiquity pointed out by his book. These brief, though regular, interjections in the story are easy to spot and easy to agree with (or not, should the reader dissent).

The trail that the book weaves through history and your mind feels a bit mythical, while at the same time far more human than I have ever heard from any stories of antiquity I've read elsewhere. It's a gorgeous balance. One doesn't leave this book without feeling the impact of Cahill's intention to both teach history and hope the present to be changed by it.

A marvelous book.

Product Link on Amazon: How the Irish Saved Civilization

Review by
Kim Gentes

[1]Thomas Cahill, "How The Irish Saved Civilization", (New York, NY: Anchor Books 1995), Pg 60
[2]Ibid., Pg 60

The Real Controversy about "The Shack"

A culture of change has become the pervading surety of our modern (and post-modern) society. The old adage rings truer than ever- "The only thing constant is change". A couple weeks back, I was stuck in a Wal-Mart at midnight, looking for some power cabling for my laptop. While I waited for someone, I was browsing the book selection. I found an interesting looking title called The Shack (Book). Little did I know it was the current "buzz book" in the church in the last year. I am not a fast reader, so it took me a couple weeks to get through it. It was a delight.

The Shack (Book)