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

“The Epic of Eden” is a phenomenal, easily read book from Biblical scholar and professor Sandra L. Richter. The core purpose of the book seems to be to present an understandable framework for the story of God through history, as explained and explored by the Old Testament scriptures. Richter does a masterful job of presenting her thesis in a variety of complimentary insights, examples and narratives. Her coup de grâce statement of the book appears unceremoniously at the very center of the volume and highlights her unique ability to make readable statements out of mountains of metadata:

In it’s simplicity...Eden and the New Jerusalem are the bookends of redemptive history. God's original intent is his final intent, and everything that lies between is one extraordinary rescue plan.[1]

There are examples-o-plenty of her constant stream of concise summations of many topics including heaven, redemption, patriarchy, theocracy, idols, typology, covenant and much more. But threaded consistently throughout the pages of this laudable work is an underlying effort to expose Yahweh as the ultimate cosmic God who does not hand Israel practices, covenants, and laws out of a wholly alien vacuum (from somewhere in heaven). Instead, Richter presents the God of Israel who doesn’t just deign to send forth a holy book to his subjects, but enters, instead, into communication with Abram, the patriarchs, Moses, David and others to bring His message to them not by some cryptic code but in their language, culture and understanding. From the friendship and assurances with Abram (later Abraham), to the Law given to Moses, to the covenant and promises made with David, Sandra Richter explores the idea of God being so gracious that He places His will into forms that were already present in the culture of the hearers.

One of the best examples of this concept is in Richter’s examination of Yahweh’s intent regarding the tabernacle and temple. She explores both the reality and motive of temple and tabernacle, helping us to see God’s true intent with them, made meaningful through the lens Israel’s world and culture:

And do you see how Yahweh chooses to live as his people live? Since the Israelites dwell in tents, Yahweh will too. When Israel becomes a sedentary people, Yahweh shifts his residence to a temple and becomes sedentary as well. Here we see the incarnation of the oft-repeated refrain, “I shall be there God and they shall be my people and I will dwell among them”.[2]

Through thorough study of the scriptures and  historical, archaeological and linguistic research, the author draws a picture of God and His story through the ages but remains inviting, questioning and open to the readers own thoughts by not being dogmatic about her own.  A great example of the author’s technique is her exploration of redemption itself. In at least three different ways she explores how redemption was a tribal, familial process and what its specific meaning was to the original writers and readers of the text.  Then, Richter points us to that meaning as it applies today and we find a redemption that is not the cut and dry legal transaction of our most popular interpretations handed down to us from the 20th century.

Redemption was the means by which a lost family member was restored to a place of security within the kinship circle. This was a patriarch’s responsibility, this was the safety net of Israel’s society, and this is the backdrop for the epic of Eden in which we New Testament believers find ourselves.

Can you hear the metaphor of Scripture? Yahweh is presenting himself as the patriarch of the clan who has announced his intent to redeem his lost family members.[3]

From this and other numerous examples, the author makes learning the essential Biblical story (and putting a cogent framework on it for interpretation) a personal experience. It is helpful, clear and I found it personally engaging.

But what is most surprising about this entire book comes in the form of a delightful addendum. Surprising because the author tackles two questions that are scarcely ever addressed anywhere, let alone in print. Tucked in the back of this book is a section called “Frequently Asked Questions”. While it sounds more typical of something you might find on a website blog, Richter asks and answers two firestorm questions: “What Role Does the Law of Moses Play in the Christian’s Life”, and “What About Modern Day Israel”?

Both of these questions might set off a furious debate in almost any diverse or large enough forum, but Sandra Richter has no need to debate or convince you of her premise for chapters and chapters. This is because she has already built 95% of her case in the preceding book that you have just read.  The addendum fits in so perfectly, it obviously was made as an ending extension to utilize the theory already provided by the reading. One can’t really jump into the  “Frequently Asked Questions” section and accept her answers without first having ingested the contents of the book as preparatory support for her conclusions to those dynamo questions.

The reason I so like the ending section is that she takes head on a topic almost never discussed by Christians of profile leadership without some ire being raised - politics. But she does it in a way which sticks so strictly to her thesis of the book that she never edges into any political sectarianism. She states the biblical back-story of Israel’s theocracy and how that political formulation is handled in the old testament, and explores further how Jesus and Paul have interpreted the application of government in light of the new covenant.  No political debate or posturing, yet clear scriptural wisdom and application. Surprising, refreshing and insightful.

If I had to recommend just one book to help a Christian understand and explore the framework of the scriptural Old Testament story, I would recommend The Epic of Eden. It is simply that good. Even the writing style is accessible and inviting. After reading it, one feels as though they sat down with a good friend and got an in depth talk about what the Old Testament is all about, with enough “meat” to allow for further pursuit of details but enough brevity to make sense of the grand meta-story of God’s work on earth, and his master plan of redemption for all.

Amazon Book Link: http://amzn.to/zOhJ73

Review by Kim Gentes

[1] Sandra L. Richter, “The Epic of Eden” (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic 2008), Page 132

[2] Ibid., Page 180

[3] Ibid., Page 45

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

“The Gifts of the Jews” is the second book in the “the Hinges of History” series from Thomas Cahill. In many ways this book should probably be considered the first book, since it forms as its base the chronological beginnings for much of the other materials that come later in the series. The point of the book is simply to explore the narrative of the origins of Hebrew people, how the nation of Israel was formed and developed, and how that led to some of the most important philosophical, spiritual and intellectual advances across the globe and across history. Author Thomas Cahill is as unashamed of his admiration for the Jews and their narrative as he is about pointing to their faults and inconsistencies that he believes he finds in the story.  The Gifts of the Jews presents both and in doing so lends credibility to both his thesis and his manner of presenting it.

The author begins with the literal origins of civilization, exploring and articulating from ancient times how the Fertile Crescent of Mesopotamia progressed from the cradle of life to the launchpad for innovation and avarice. He shows how the original cities came into being in Sumer, examines one of the first written stories, “The Epic of Gilgamesh”, and details with imaginative freedom the temples, cult and ritual of the ancient Sumarians. In doing this, he creates the backdrop for the world in which appeared the nomadic Semitics, whom Cahill eventually identifies as the people from which Abraham (though he uses the technical translation of Avraham in his writing) comes.  Having set the stage well, The Gifts of the Jews begins with the story of Abraham, his family and the unique gift of faith that he represents. The author’s knowledge of world history helps to give us pointers on the many “firsts” that the Jews give us, including faith:

This God gives and takes beyond human reasoning or justification. Because his motives are not interpretable and his thoughts and actions are not foreseeable, anything—and everything—is possible. Many new things have already come into being as a result of this relationship, but faith most of all, which prior to Avraham had no place in religious feeling and imagination. Because all is possible, faith is possible, even necessary.[1]

From that point on, Cahill attributes the Jews with not only introducing the notion of faith, but time, individuality and even the concept of history itself:

Since time is no longer cyclical but one-way and irreversible, personal history is now possible and an individual life can have value.[2]

and

But the God of Avraham, Yitzhak, and Yaakov—no longer your typical ancient divinity, no longer the archetypal gesturer—is a real personality who has intervened in real history, changing its course and robbing it of predictability.[3]

finally:

The Israelites, by becoming the first people to live—psychologically—in real time, also became the first people to value the New and to welcome Surprise. In doing this, they radically subverted all other ancient worldviews[4]

Like all his books in this series, Cahill’s pithy writing is combined with an authentic ability to mine some meta-narrative truths. This one is a great example of such discovery:

Like Avraham, he never doubts the information of his senses—that this is really happening—only God’s lack of realism...[5]

I find this a particularly poignant note of the authors. Cahill is absolutely hit the nail on the head here, as anyone who has tried to follow YHWH knows. God seems to have a juxtaposed sense of “reasonableness” in almost anyone he calls to live with Him in relationship.  From Abraham to Joseph to David to the prophets to the disciples. Nothing significant is done by someone who is just “doing what makes sense”. While not other-worldly, YHWH asks men and women to dare to do things beyond themselves, knowing his spirit will be needed to actually do anything in “reality”. This point has never been made strong enough in the biblical teaching I’ve received or given. It is not as naive as heroism, but rather an unlinking of the desire to stay safe by trusting God fully. Sometimes in utter fear and trembling, but still obedient, knowing it the right thing to do, despite the serious threats to the contrary.

Cahill goes on to give the entire narrative (less than more) of the people of Israel, right up until the final exile of Judah and eventual restoration through the edict of Persian King Cyrus in 538 BC. In his retelling, the author points to the Jews as the originators of justice both personal and societal, through the introduction of the 10 Commandments[6]. He also acclaims Jews for being the inventors of leisure, or rest  from work, saying “No ancient society before the Jews had a day of rest.”[7] Cahill points to the story of David and the example of his triumph over Goliath as the ultimate story of hope for the weak and powerless. Speaking of David’s speech before slaying Goliath, he says:

This is a wonderful speech—and a wonderful moment in the history of Israel and of the human race—a resounding assertion that God is on the side of the small and powerless, not the high and mighty. This is a confrontation that has fixed itself permanently in human imagination; and who could count how many supposedly hopeless causes it has given strength and comfort to?[8]

Before retiring to the greatness of this book and author, I must lodge at least one essential objection. Cahill builds such a good rhythm between Hebrew scripture, historical context and plain good thinking that we can become anaesthetised to some of his flat out erroneous statements.  I will point out just one place in which he runs his ship into a gigantic rock of presumption and contradiction.

But even without resorting to modern scientific methodology or noticing what an inconsistent palimpsest the Hebrew Bible can be, we must reject certain parts of the Bible as unworthy of a God we would be willing to believe in. We read, for instance, in the Book of Joshua that God commanded the Israelites to put all Canaanites, even children, to the sword; and in the Psalms the poet regularly urges God to effect the brutal destruction of all the poet’s enemies. Though the people who wrote such words may have believed they were inspired by God, we cannot. ... But it remains true that there is no way of attributing mass carnage and vindictive slaughter to a God worth believing in. Even the fiercest believer among us must, I think, admit that these operations were the work of human beings who had wrongly convinced themselves that God was on their side.[9]

Cahill does not ask us to look at historical evidence, textual evidence or even possible modern scholarship that might put some source in question. No, instead, here he asks us to set aside the content of the text simply because he can’t believe in a God who would do such things. This is a tragic misstep for the author because he doesn’t make this kind of aberration of logic on such a major point in any other place in the book. While I can understand (and sympathise) with Cahill’s point (as can most people), we simply can’t accept our moral compass to be the judge of God’s judgments and character.  And, in fact, this goes against Cahill’s primary source of Hebrew distinction amongst all the other nations of the world - the “Voice”.  One of the author’s main thesis points is that the “Voice” that Avram follows is the great distinguishing source of reality that leads Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the patriarchs and all Israel into the discoveries and truths that Cahill lauds.  If the “Voice” that declared the Decalogue is the voice we must listen to, then the same voice cannot be ignored if he commands Abraham to sacrifice his son on the altar.  We can look in hindsight and parlay our thoughts and justifications against these actions which we find painful and in-congruent, but ultimately leaving out these truths (and they are truths spoken by the same voice) means we leave out the Mystery of the Voice, which history has shown us is as important as any knowing of the same Voice, perhaps even more so. If the Voice is God, then we surely are not, and we must not, drown out his words with our murmurings and justifications of a “God we’d like”. Cahill fails on his attempt to make YHWH into the God “he’d like”, and a sound review of his book would be remiss if this point was not brought up.

That said, with this book, as with the others in this series, there is so many poignant points we can scarcely give even the most important a mention. But towering over all of them are the twin points of individualism (including personal choice as a way of transforming the present and future) and the requirement of all people to gain a sense of conscience and justice, which must eventually lead to freedom. I will allow quotes from Cahill himself to summarize his book most aptly:

The Jews gave us the Outside and the Inside—our outlook and our inner life. We can hardly get up in the morning or cross the street without being Jewish. We dream Jewish dreams and hope Jewish hopes. Most of our best words, in fact—new, adventure, surprise; unique, individual, person, vocation; time, history, future; freedom, progress, spirit; faith, hope, justice—are the gifts of the Jews.[10]

and

Nor can we imagine the great liberation movements of modern history without reference to the Bible. Without the Bible we would never have known... Democracy, in contrast, grows directly out of the Israelite vision of individuals, subjects of value because they are images of God, each with a unique and personal destiny. There is no way that it could ever have been “self-evident that all men are created equal” without the intervention of the Jews.[11]

Amazon Book & Kindle Book Link : http://amzn.to/yQlCBr

Review by Kim Gentes

[1] Cahill, Thomas, “The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels (Hinges of History)”. (New York, NY: Random House 1998)., Kindle Edition, Page 93

[2] Ibid., Page 95

[3] Ibid., Page 98

[4] Ibid., Page 128

[5] Ibid., Page 107

[6] Ibid., Page 146, 156

[7] Ibid., Page 144

[8] Ibid., Page 180

[9] Ibid., Page 245-246

[10] Ibid., Page 240

[11] Ibid., Page 248

Miroslav Volf is a professor at Yale University and the director of the Yale Center for Faith and Culture.  Volf was born and raised in the former Yugoslavia, a center of rising ethnic violence in the last 20 years. Volf’s most noted work, “Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness and Reconciliation”, confronts this impulse and action of violence not only as theological response but as a practical alternative. As the title indicates, the book centers itself on a thesis which presents exclusion (and identification of the “other”) as the root of conflict and sin and embrace as the metaphorical model of reconciliation and harmonious life. At the root of Volf’s message about human beings and relationship is the concept of identity:

It may not be too much to claim that the future of our world will depend on how we deal with identity and difference.[1]

Exclusion and Embrace articulates the details of offence as “exclusion”, which occurs when we objectify people, removing them from ourselves as wholly other. Volf contrasts that to the activity (metaphorically) of “embrace”, in which we make space for others within ourselves.

...the will to give ourselves to others and “welcome” them, to readjust our identities to make space for them, is prior to any judgment about others, except that of identifying them in their humanity. The will to embrace precedes any “truth” about others and any construction of their “justice.”[2]

The author’s description of exclusion are no less poignant, bringing us to a practical understanding of how separating ourselves from others in rejection does violence to both the individual and social fabric with which we are connected.

Exclusion is barbarity within civilization, evil among the good, crime against the other right within the walls of the self.[3]

Exclusion takes place when the violence of expulsion, assimilation, or subjugation and the indifference of abandonment replace the dynamics of taking in and keeping out as well as the mutuality of giving and receiving.[4]

Volf does more than just explore the concepts of identity and exclusion. He offers a real solution in the concept of the embrace. Embrace here is used as a metaphor to the multi-step process of welcoming, opening, receiving, loving and releasing others in a relational offering that demands nothing but hopes for real love.  In fact, one of Volf’s most brilliant points is the recognition that part of true embrace and love (relationally) is that we accept and embrace others even when we don’t understand them, and possibly even when they have hurt us. It is this risking to expose one’s self to such vulnerability (with no assurances) that Volf prises and sees intuitively as the kind of necessity (beyond contracts and other such “assurances”) in true trusting relationships. Finding a singular quote for all of these great concepts would be difficult, but these two captures some of these notions:

The answer, I hope, would be that at the core of the Christian faith lies the persuasion that the “others” need not be perceived as innocent in order to be loved, but ought to be embraced even when they are perceived as wrongdoers.[5]

Without the framework of embrace, the ability-not-to-understand is sterile; but without the ability-not-to-understand a genuine embrace is impossible.[6]

I could extend my citings to literally dozens of excellent quotations from this book. It is very well thought, and very well written. One of the strengths of this book will be to the academic world, since it uses the guided logic of philosophical arguments much more than the dogmatic points from a single doctrinal view to make its presentation. I enjoyed Volf’s logical tiers of arguments he used to build his thesis, even if I didn’t agree with every single point.

One such point of disagreement I had is Volf’s chapter on memory and forgetting as requirements needed for full forgiveness. He says:

In a nutshell, my argument is this: since no final redemption is possible without the redemption of the past, and since every attempt to redeem the past through reflection must fail because no theodicy can succeed, the final redemption is unthinkable without a certain kind of forgetting.[7]

This is a novel notion, but ultimately a dim and weak view of God, His salvation, and His coming fullness of restoration of all things. In scripture, God is literally said to be The Way, The Truth and the Life. He is literally the Word, Light, and Love. God is literally these things. If we say God will forget, by wiping something from all memories in hopes of making the information not have the ability to impact us, we are saying, in essence, that the information is more powerful than God. We are saying that somehow, this knowledge, if it is allowed to exist is more impactive that the God of the universe. It may be a cogent philosophical argument for Volf to use, but it is nonetheless illogical when God’s nature is considered. God cannot be trumped by knowledge. God is Truth. This is a fear-based argument that pits a weakened God against knowledge which must be kept secret (even from God) so that we can all live in harmony. I am not arguing (as some might) that "if this is God, I can't believe in a God like that". No, I am saying, according to God's definition of himself, he can't be like that, or his nature is not correct. In fact, if this were true, we couldn't say about him "in Him there is no shadow of darkness". Hiding knowledge to make life more bearable is, by definition, a shadow meant to conceal something that would harm.

Additionally, the quoted passages are themselves suspect, according to other scholars who point to the Is. 43:25 and Jer. 23:39 words used and translated into "forget" and “remember”. According to Dr. Lois Tverberg (Ph,D, and author with Zondervan and co-author of bestselling “Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus”), the Hebrew words focus on action and deliberate ignoring to follow up actions, rather than mental recall. According to Tverberg[8], It is not that God is wiping a memory, it is that he is choosing not to take action or to bring that information into a response (i.e. punishment, judgment).

Volf is taking a huge issue here but does so in a defensive manner, choosing to think less of God than he does of the memory.

That said, I would offer just this as a potential alternative. Perhaps in culmination of all things, the great and glorious day of the Lord brings both judgment of all deeds and forgiveness on its heals. Those things which have been washed in the blood of the Lamb (and people have been recorded as having been remembered explicitly as being included in that Lambs Book of Life) will be overwhelmingly delivered a pardon of great love and forgiveness.

In that day, in that moment of revelation, each human will see the totality of the sin they have wrought. They will see the immensity of that sin, laid not impersonally, but tragically on the Son of God Himself. They will see the Creator of the Universe turn to them and bring down upon them the pronouncement of forgiveness, even in the light of the truth of the sin and its judgment (which was taken upon the Lamb for them). In that moment, the freedom, thankfulness, the love will have free reign. There will be no sulking places to retreat to "at night". For we will be in the city of God's light, living in His very presence. In that light, with that forgiveness stitching our very being together, how will we will turn to anyone else and look for judgment, curse, and punishment. We will not. Even in the truth of loved ones slaughtered, selves violated and years of pain, that pain will be done. The loved ones will be healed, resurrected, tears wiped away and standing there among us. The years will not be wiped from all memory but will fade infinitesimally amidst the joy of love, forgiveness and living people all around (all those who were hurt and we took up offense for, including our most loved ones).

Volf even contradicts himself later in his book with this argument:

At a deeper level, a toast to the past was a toast against the arbitrariness of the powerful who mask their misdeeds by denying that they took place.[9]

and even more powerfully

Justice without memory is an incomplete justice, false and unjust. To forget would be an absolute injustice in the same way that Auschwitz was the absolute crime. To forget would be the enemy’s final triumph. [10]

I agree. Justice is not justice if the violation is simply wiped from memory as a final remedy. The true remedy is forgiveness and love in light of the offense, bringing offender and offended back into union with one another and with God.

This is the great God of Love, Truth and Light, who ultimately did not "hide" history, but embraced it- on the cross. He chose to embrace the pain, that would one day turn to joy. If God had wanted to perform the act of forgetting, why would he not have rewound history all the way back to the garden, erased the memory of the brokenness of that original sin, and helped them "get it right", so all this frightful mess would be done well with goodness. Why? Because, we all know and understand- that to declare God to be a God who would chose to erase history because He and His plan of love, redemption and forgiveness was too weak to work without the ability to "change the rules" seems a silly and powerless thing. It's not the God of the Bible, I think.

But the God to who stands ready to face all pain, sin, death and destruction, and take it on his very body the exchange of those hideous things for love, joy and forgiveness- that God of the Cross and the Resurrection- that God sounds more like the God of the bible. If we are to gain anything from the entire narrative of the bible (and especially its culmination in Revelation) we must see that YHWH is the God who wins- the God of Love- not the God to can't overcome memories because there just wasn't enough love to conquer them.

Amazon Book Link: http://amzn.to/zUUk5V

Review by Kim Gentes

[1] Volf, Miroslav, “Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness and Reconciliation”. (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press 1996)., Kindle Edition, Page 20

[2] Ibid., Page 29

[3] Ibid., Page 60

[4] Ibid., Page 67

[5] Ibid., Page 85

[6] Ibid., Page 144

[7] Ibid., Page 135

[8] Tverberg, Lois, (2004) "Does God Forget Sins", En-Gedi Resource Center. 12 June 2011. http://www.egrc.net/articles/director/articles_director_0104.html  (31 Jan 2012).

[9] Volf, Miroslav, “Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness and Reconciliation”. (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press 1996)., Kindle Edition, Page 233

[10] Ibid., Page 234