Selected Topics of Comparison in Christianity and the Bahá'í Faith: chapter
Son of man and Son of
God - Concepts of Christologies in the New Testament
In the Gospels we find different titles that were attributed to Jesus.
He preferably spoke of himself as the Son of man (Hebr. ben adam),
he was addressed as "Teacher" (Hebr. rabbi), and revered as Son of
David, Son of God, Lord (Hebr. mar, Gr. kyrios), the
Word (Gr. logos), the Saviour, and the Messiah (Hebr. masiah, Gr.
christós). Each of these designations was in fact more than just a
title, they revealed certain perspectives, understandings, expectations and
beliefs people had, and they could in a sense be regarded as seeds of various
Christological concepts. In this chapter, we will focus on the designations
Son of man and Son of God and examine their different
meanings.[1]
Son of Man
This is the title that, according to the Gospels, Jesus more or less
consistently used for himself. This title is the one most explored during the
last hundred years of biblical scholarship. It has different layers of meaning
and so it is not surprising that scholars have come to different
conclusions.[2]
Some scholars have argued that Son of man is no title at all. It
had been used in an indefinite sense, without concrete expectations, simply
meaning "I" (Vermes), "someone" (Bauckham), or "mortal one" (Fitzmeyer). That
Son of man has been used interchangably with "I" in the Gospels can be
detected in several places.[3] However, to assume
that this exhausts the meaning of the term is a somewhat minimalist position, as
we will see.
It is also self-evident that this term denotes the human station of
Jesus. He was the 'son of humanity'[4], so to
speak, and was fully involved in this earthly life. He showed signs of physical
exhaustion (John 4:6), of strong emotions (John 11:33-5), and was bound to
suffer and die (Matt. 17:22-3). In the apocryphal Epistle of Barnabas, the
generic meaning is clearly intended, when Jesus' human station is juxtaposed
with his divine nature: "See again Jesus, not as son of man, but as Son of God,
but manifested in a type of the flesh" (Barnabas 12:10).
On the other hand, this designation is linked to Jewish messianic
expectations, most prominently formulated in the apocalypse of Daniel. If
understood in such a context, the self-reference includes an eschatologic aspect
as well.
I saw in the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of man came
with the clouds of heaven,
and came to the Ancient of days, and they brought him near before him.
And there was given him
dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and
languages, should serve him:
his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and
his kingdom that which
shall not be destroyed (Dan. 7:13-14).
Daniel's use of a simile ("one like the Son of man") is quite telling.
The two dimensions, the human and the messianic one, seem to be merged. The
future messiah will appear in a human form, but he is so much more. In the
discourse on his return, Christ referred explicitely to Daniel (Matt. 24:15) and
alluded to his apocalypse several times, including the passage cited
above:
Immediately after the tribulation of those days shall the sun be
darkened, and the moon shall not
give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of
the heavens shall be shaken:
And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and then
shall all the tribes of the earth
mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven
with power and great glory
(Matt. 24:29-30).
A messianic use of the term Son of Man can also be found in the
(Ethiopian) Book of Enoch, one of several apocalyptic texts circulating at the
time of Jesus' ministry.[5]
And there I saw One who had a head of days, And his head was white
like wool, And with him
was another whose countenance had the appearance of a man, And his
face was full of
graciousness, like one of the angels. And I asked the angel who went
with me and showed me
all the secret things, concerning yonder Son of man, who he was, and
whence he was, (and) why
he went with the Chief of Days? And he answered and said unto me: This
is the Son of man to
whom belongs righteousness And righteousness dwells with him: And all
the treasures of that
which is hidden he reveals Because the Lord of spirits has chosen him
And whose cause before
the Lord of spirits triumphs by uprightness for
ever.[6]
Enoch's vision bears striking parallels to Daniel's one. In both cases,
the human-like and yet angelic Messiah figure is situated next to God (called
the Ancient of Days, respectively the Chief of Days). He is depicted with great
glory, chosen to reveal the wisdom of God and establish an everlasting dominion.
Whether Jesus knew and alluded to apocryphal apocalypses such as Enoch's as
well, remains uncertain, but they are instructive in illustrating the prevalent
messianic expectations.[7]
Jesus' self-references as being the Son of Man certainly
reminded his Jewish audience of their rich apocalyptic heritage with its
messianic theme. David Flusser has even argued that "[t]he one like a man [the
Son of man] who sits upon the throne of God's glory, the sublime eschatological
judge, is the highest conception of the Redeemer ever developed by ancient
Judaism."[8]
It is easy to see how Jesus' description of his return fitted the
apocalyptic messianic imagery of his Jewish audience. The challenge for them was
to come to terms with Jesus' own messianic claims, which could not, if
understood literally, be harmonized with their eschatological expectations. It
became a main apologetic task of early Christianity to remove the
"stumblingblock" and justify the apparent "foolishness" of a suffering and
crucified Messiah (1 Cor. 1:23).
But Jesus reminded his listeners that the Scriptures not only spoke of
the glorious station of the
Messiah, sitting on the throne of David. They also told of the servant
of God, a "man of sorrows",
"despised and rejected by men" (Isaiah
53:3)[9], who sacrificed his life for mankind,
and through whose sacrifice his kingdom will be
raised.[10] In merging the images of Isaiah's
suffering servant and Daniel's portrayal of the victorious Son of man,
Jesus' use of this term reveals its depth and explains its
ambiguity.
Brad Young has rightly criticized the notion of scholars who opt
exclusively for either a generic or a messianic meaning of the term Son of
Man. He suggests merging those two levels into "a complex combination of the
two previous meanings as in the passion predictions of Jesus." That would mean
that we regard Jesus "as a human being in his sufferings and death (first
meaning), and also he is more than an ordinary human being in his resurrection
and triumph (associated with second meaning)." He acknowledges that the generic
meaning may sometimes be intended, but recommends that "the context of the
Gospels should be studied in order to determine if a deeper significance is
given to the name."[11]
Unfortunately, Young falls short of his own advice, when he quotes
Matt. 12:32 as an example for a mere generic use of ben
adam.[12]
And whoever says a word against the Son of man will be forgiven;
but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven,
either in this age or in the age to come.
While it is certainly possible to understand Son of man in a
generic sense in this passage, the deeper meaning that Young advocates to look
for may be lost. In analyzing the passage, Young notes "the beauty of strong
parallelism" and the "son of man" being "the antithesis of the Holy Spirit", the
latter often used as referring to God in Jewish tradition. According to this
reading, to say something evil against other human beings or to oppose them
strongly (connotations of the Hebrew idiom "to speak against") would be
forgiven, but not to turn against the Holy Spirit (God). However, when we
include verse 31 into our analysis, we see that this meaning is already
expressed there.
Wherefore I say unto you, All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be
forgiven unto men:
but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto
men.
And whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be
forgiven him:
but whosoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven
him,
neither in this world, neither in the world to come.
The first line of verse 32 would thus only be a repetition of the one
in verse 31, and even a less emphatic one. From a stylistic and rhetoric point
of view, it seems more plausible to read the first line of verse 32 as a climax,
rather than a weak repetition. Even if one turns against the (messianic) Son
of man, he would be forgiven, as long as this person does not oppose the
light of the Holy Spirit (God) itself. Following such an interpretation, Jesus
would make a distinction between himself (his specific mission), and the Holy
Spirit (God). While such a reading may be rejected with a trinitarian
concept in mind, it should be noted that Jesus on several occasions did
make such a distinction.[13]
It is also interesting to note that Jesus mentions blasphemy apart from
"all manner of sin". To be blasphemous, is to show disrespect for God or
religious matters. The climax would then be that one, out of prejudice,
fanaticism, or ignorance, can show disrespect even for God's Messenger (not just
to secondary religious matters, such as sacred objects) and be forgiven, as long
as one does not turn against the Source of all good itself. Such an
interpretation is also confirmed from a Bahá´í point of view.
In the words of ´Abdu´l-Bahá, elucidating the biblical verse in
question:
The meaning is this: to remain far from the light-holder [i.e. the Son
of Man] does not entail everlasting
banishment, for one may become awakened and vigilant; but enmity toward
the light [i.e. the Holy Spirit]
is the cause of everlasting banishment, and for this there is no
remedy.[14]
The implications of such an understanding can not be elaborated upon
here. Suffice it to say that they are far-reaching in terms of challenging an
exclusivist concept of salvation, and providing a broader basis for an
inclusivist or pluralist perspective for interfaith
dialogue.[15]
Having extensively argued that Matthew 12:32 is an important reference
for the messianic rather than merely the human dimension, I would like to
propose that similar enriching insights could be gained, whenever we take the
messianic (as well as the moral and allegorical) aspect of the Son of man
sayings (or incidents) into account.[16] In
other words, it was always the Messiah speaking, with spiritual implications and
challenges, for those "who have ears to hear" (Mark 4:23).
Let us look briefly at one such instance, which is commonly understood
as a reference to Jesus' humanity (Matt. 8:19-20, Luke 9:58):
And a certain scribe came, and said unto him, Master, I will follow
thee whithersoever thou goest.
And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of the
air have nests;
but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.
Certainly this statement bears vivid testimony to the kind of life
Jesus led during the three years of his ministry. Several aspects contributing
to his homelessness can be identified in the reports of the Gospels. He had left
his temporary residence at Capernaum and any material comfort he might have had
behind, in order to preach throughout Galilee (Mark 1:38-39, Luke 10:1). As his
fame as inspired teacher and healer spread, crowds of people beleaguered him
everywhere he went (Mark 6:56). Often he was forced to retreat (John 6:15) but
could not for long remain in hiding (Mark 7:24). Many times his teachings
provoked opposition and he had to withdraw (John 8:59, 10:39), and at other
times he was rejected and no hospitality was shown towards him and his disciples
(Luke 9:52-56). It was after such an occasion that Jesus commented on
his homelessness.[17]
Recognizing the context of being rejected and homelessness, it will be
instructive to view Jesus' fate in the light of the messianic 'Servant of God'
paradigm. As portrayed in Isaiah's songs, the Servant of God "is despised and
rejected of men" (Isaiah 53:3). This may at first glance seem contradictory to
the above-mentioned fact of people crowding around him. But the initial
enthusiasm of people seeking healing and miracles often turned into rejection
when challenged by Jesus' "hard sayings" (John 6:60), which also prompted many
of his followers to abandon him (John 6:66).
In a moving passage, alluding to this quote,
Bahá´u´lláh also views rejection and enmity as reasons
for Jesus' homelessness:
Reflect how Jesus, the Spirit of God, was, notwithstanding His extreme
meekness and perfect tender-
heartedness, treated by His enemies. So fierce was the opposition
which He, the Essence of Being and
Lord of the visible and invisible, had to face, that He had nowhere to
lay His head. He wandered
continually from place to place, deprived of a permanent
abode.[18]
Following the classical (Christian) fourfold level of
interpretation[19], I want to briefly look for
possible allegorical readings of this quote. In one sense, Jesus regarded the
Temple ("the House of God") as his true home (Matt. 21:13, Luke 2:49). Being
"homeless" then, might refer to the desecration of the Temple (Mark 11:17), or
his being continually harrassed by the priests, whenever he wanted to teach
there (Luke 19:47). In another sense, the "true home" of the spirit of Christ is
in the hearts of the believers. The lack of hospitality shown to him in the
Samaritan village would then be the outer image of people's inner reality,
refusing to let the spirit of Christ dwell in their hearts.
Bahá´u´lláh in the Hidden Words has repeatedly described
such a symbolic relationship:
O SON OF DUST! All that is in heaven and earth I have ordained for
thee, except the human heart,
which I have made the habitation of My beauty and glory; yet thou didst
give My home and dwelling
to another than Me; and whenever the manifestation of My holiness
sought His own abode, a stranger
found He there, and, homeless, hastened unto the sanctuary of the
Beloved. Notwithstanding I have
concealed thy secret and desired not thy
shame.[20]
Here of course the allegorical and moral levels of interpretation
merge. And it is the latter one that I feel is the most relevant to investigate.
After all, Jesus' statement was given as response to a learned Jew who wanted to
become a disciple. Jesus wanted the scribe to be aware of the consequences of
such a decision. Jesus was not complaining about his own fate but indirectly
asking the man if he were prepared to give up his home and material comfort if
that is what was needed. Following Jesus' footprints calls for detachment and
spiritual strength, for the readiness to accept suffering and even martyrdom, in
order to gain eternal life:
And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy
of me.
He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for
my sake shall find it (Matt. 10:38-39).
Luke and Matthew do not tell us how the scribe decided. But the
relevance of the moral level of interpretation is that it is not about the
historicity of the event, but about our own personal response. Moral
interpretation invites contemplation and a renewal of personal commitment. To
what extent are we prepared to follow the Son of man?
The predominant use of the term Son of man in the Gospels gives
way to the title Son of God in the Pauline (and Apostolic) letters. Paul
has been often accused of having started the process of Christ's deification,
but it has been overlooked that Paul's usage of this term had eschatological
messianic connotations as well, as will be shown below. Furthermore, the
complementary use of both these titles can be gleaned from the Gospels
themselves.
Whenever people addressed Jesus as Son of God, he never rejected
this title as unqualified but exhorted them not to disclose it. Several times
this happened during the process of healing obsessed people:
For he had healed many; insomuch that they pressed upon him for to
touch him, as many as had
plagues. And unclean spirits, when they saw him, fell down before him,
and cried, saying, Thou
art the Son of God. And he straitly charged them that they should not
make him known.[21]
Similarly, Jesus exhorted his disciples not to disclose his station
prematurely (Mark 8:30; 9:9). This strategy of gradually unfolding his messianic
claim has been coined as "messianic secret". That the title Son of God
was used and understood in this messianic context, will be discussed in more
detail below.
Son of God
This term is equally multi-faceted as the former one discussed. The
prevalent understanding adopted by the Christian churches is based on the
Johannine diction of the "only begotten Son" (John 1:18). Before dealing with
this statement and the doctrines that evolved from it, I would like to address
older meanings of this term as they were used and understood in Judaism.
In Christian polemics, the God of Israel has usually been depicted as a
God of wrath, as opposed to the God of love in the New Testament. Furthermore,
his remoteness and unaccessibility has been contrasted with the intimate
relationship that Jesus as the Son had with God, whom he called abba
(Father). That this is a simplistic characterization and a polemic contrast can
be easily deduced from the Hebrew biblical texts.
God assures Moses of his help to liberate his people from the Egyptian
bondage and instructs him to proceed as follows:
And thou shalt say unto Pharaoh, Thus saith the LORD, Israel is my son,
even my firstborn:
And I say unto thee, Let my songo,
that he may serve me: and if thou refuse to let him go,
behold, I will slay thy son, even thy firstborn (Ex.
4:22-23).
The image of the father-son relationship is carried on through the
fourty years of exodus in search
for the Promised Land. Whenever the Israelites got discouraged, Moses
would assure them of the
continuous help and assistance of God and remind them "that the LORD
thy God bare thee, as a man doth bear his son, in all the way that ye went,
until ye came into this place" (Deut. 1:31).
This theme is then greatly expanded by the prophets following Moses who
depicted God as Father figure for the people of Israel. Isaiah, in one passage
(Isaiah 63: 15-16) recalls how God has saved Israel in the past and implores him
to do so again, calling upon him as father:
Look down from heaven, and behold from the habitation of thy holiness
and of thy glory:
where is thy zeal and thy strength, the sounding of thy bowels and of
thy mercies toward me?
are they restrained? Doubtless thou art our father, though Abraham be
ignorant of us, and Israel
acknowledge us not: thou, O LORD, art our father, our redeemer; thy
name is from everlasting.
In Jeremiah (3:19-22) it is God speaking through the prophet's voice
who laments over the faithlessness of Israel and urges his "sons" to return.
"'I thought how I would set you among my sons, and give you a pleasant
land, a heritage most
beauteous of all nations. And I thought you would call me, My Father,
and would not turn from
following me. Surely, as a faithless wife leaves her husband, so have
you been faithless to me,
O house of Israel, says the LORD.'"
In this passage the image of God as the Father calling his children,
and as the husband grieving over his wife's faithlessness, are intertwined. The
latter image is often employed by Isaiah and Jeremiah and appears again in the
New Testament, when Jesus refers both to himself and the eschatological Christ
as the bridegroom (see Mark 2:19-20; Matt. 1:1-13). God's call (in the passage
above) does not remain unheard, the children repent and return (the topic is
taken up again by Christ in the parable about the prodigal son):
A voice on the bare heights is heard, the weeping and pleading of
Israel's sons,
because they have perverted their way, they have forgotten the LORD
their God.
"Return, O faithless sons, I will heal your faithlessness."
"Behold, we come to thee; for thou art the LORD our God."
So we can summarize that there has always been a love relationship
(characterized as parental or marital) between God and the people of Israel.
This relationship is characterized by alternate stages of closeness and
alienation, of loyalty and betrayal, of happiness and suffering, of rebellion
and return. The prophets have always been sent to renew the eternal Covenant and
to call the children back to the Father.[22]
Unique as Christ's position is in many ways, it has also to be seen within this
framework of perpetual divine guidance, which is both specific (in the context
of Judaism) and universal.
As discussed above, we are all God's children but it is through our
love to God and following his laws that we deserve to be called as such.
Similarly, Christ declared that "Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be
called the children of God" (Matt. 5:9).
In a more specific sense, God has promised King David through the
prophet Natan that through his seed the kingdom of God will be raised and that
God will regard David's descendant as his own son:
And when thy days be fulfilled, and thou shalt sleep with thy fathers,
I will set up thy seed after thee,
which shall proceed out of thy bowels, and I will establish his
kingdom. He shall build an house for my
name, and I will stablish the throne of his kingdom for ever. I will be
his father, and he shall be my son.
If he commit iniquity, I will chasten him with the rod of men, and with
the stripes of the children of men:
But my mercy shall not depart away from him, as I took it from Saul,
whom I put away before thee. And thine
house and thy kingdom shall be established for ever before thee: thy
throne shall be established for ever.[23]
This is the earliest reference that nourished the hope for a royal
Messiah to come and re-establish the kingdom of
Israel.[24] Such hopes were eventually defeated
and subsequent prophets presented different perspectives of the Messiah-King
figure.[25] However, at various times
throughout Jewish history these hopes were revived, and Jesus was equally faced
with such hopes and expectations (e.g., Matt. 21:9) and had to explain that his
kingdom was about spiritual transformation (e.g., Luke 17:20-21) as opposed to
rebel against the Romans. This of course was a radical redefinition of the
original concept as it was commonly understood, and a rejection of political
aspirations to establish a dynastic Monarchy again.
Nevertheless, it is important to realize that when Jesus was addressed
as Son of God in the Gospels, it predominantly was done so in the context
of the messianic expectations outlined above. This is clearly shown in the
following dialogue where Jesus responds to the royal messianic expectations of
Nathanael, "an Israelite in whom is no guile" (John 1:47), with linking them to
Daniel's eschatological scheme:
Nathanael answered and saith unto him, Rabbi, thou art the Son of God;
thou art the King
of Israel.Jesus answered and said unto him, Because I said unto thee, I
saw thee under the
fig tree, believest thou? thou shalt see greater things than these. And
he saith unto him,
Verily, verily, I say unto you, Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and
the angels of God
ascending and descending upon the Son of man (John
1:49-51).
The oldest text that preserved the Jewish messianic expectations is the
socalled "small messianic hymn" in Luke 1:32-35, with the angel Gabriel
foretelling the greatness of Christ:
He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the
Lord God shall give
unto him the throne of his father David: And he shall reign over the
house of Jacob for ever;
and of his kingdom there shall be no end...that holy thing which shall
be born of thee
shall be called the Son of God.
When interrogated by the High Priests (Mark 14:61-62), Jesus not only
confirmed that he was the Son of God (verse 61), but immediately linked this title to the
eschatological Son of man concept
(verse 62), just as in the dialogue quoted above. The merging of the
messianic and eschatological
concepts happens also by combining the images of Ps. 110:1 ("Sit thou
at my right hand") with
Dan. 7:13 (coming "with the clouds of heaven") in verse 62
itself.
Again the high priest asked him, and said unto him, Art thou the
Christ, the Son of the Blessed?
And Jesus said, I am: and ye shall see the Son of man sitting on the
right hand of power,
and coming in the clouds of heaven.
Jesus confirms to be the Messiah and the Son of God in speaking
of his eschatological function, in other words, he accepts and "interprets"
Messiahship as a primary (if not exclusive) reference to his future mission at
the time of his return (Gr. parousia). The Gospel of Mark certainly
reflects the oldest messianic concept and it is interesting to see how Matthew
and Luke have rendered their accounts of this scene in a slightly different way,
extending the role of Jesus' Messiahship and Sonship to his earthly mission as
well.[26]
Such an original (eschatological) understanding of Messiahship can
still be detected in the early tradition of the Hellenistic
Community.[27] When Paul praises the
Thessalonian community for their exemplary belief and steadfastness, he goes on
to say that they
turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God; And to wait
for his Son from heaven,
whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the
wrath to come (1 Thess 1:9-10).
The coming "from heaven" and Jesus' role as redeemer (Gr.
soteros) from "the wrath to come"
allude to the apocalyptic Judgement Day. More importantly, as can be
seen in this passage, the designation Son (of God) is not yet used as a
general title, but specifically to describe Jesus' eschatological
function.
Equally challenging as the understanding of "kingdom" was the
understanding of the relationship between God and his "adopted" son. The Gospel
of Mark starts with the baptism of Jesus, and for many early Christians this
constituted the event of God "adopting" Jesus as his son, showering his spirit
upon him to start his mission. God's affirmation, "Thou art my beloved Son, in
whom I am well pleased" (Mark 1:11) provides the basis for such a belief. It
links this act to the messianic adoption (Ps. 2:7) and to Isaiah's model of the
Servant of God (Is. 42:1). It is interesting to note that Paul's letter to the
community in Rome starts out with such an "adoptionist" description as
well:
Concerning his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of
David
according to the flesh; And declared to be the Son of God with power,
according
to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead (Rom.
1:3-4).
If taken to an extreme, this perspective would crystallize in a belief
that Jesus was an ordinary human being and his divinity rests solely on his
being "adopted" as Son of God. Proponents of such a view have come to be
known as "Adoptionists" and their Christology proved influential until the third
century.[28]
At the other end of the spectrum, equally one-sided, would be the
belief that the divine Sonship of Jesus implies his absolute divinity.
Proponents of this view were called "Modalists" because they regarded, in
trinitarian terms, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit only as different
appearances (L. modi) of the one (undivided) God. Modalism was equally
influental during the early time of Christianity and even, as Deschner pointed
out, official Church doctrine during the reign of at least three consecutive
popes.[29]
In order to understand how such a doctrine could have developed, we
have to analyze yet another Christological concept as it is expressed in the
Gospel of John.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word
was God.
The same was in the beginning with God.
All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made
that was made.
In him was life; and the life was the light of men.
And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it
not...
That was the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the
world...
And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his
glory, the glory
as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth...
No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in
the bosom of the
Father, he hath declared him (John 1:1-5, 9,14, 18).
Here we encounter a radically different image of the Son of God.
He is the embodiment of the Word (Gr. logos), which is one with God,
pre-existent, the creator of the universe, and the universal source of guidance
and illumination. We find similar descriptions, in hymnal form, in some letters
of Paul (Phil. 2:6-11; Hebr. 1:3-4; Col. 1:15-20).
No other theologian has been more critized and misunderstood than Paul,
the 'Apostle to the Gentiles'. He has been accused of having changed the 'Faith
of Jesus' into 'Faith in Jesus'. "Pauline heresy", so Schonfield, "served as the
basis for Christian orthodoxy, and the legitimate Church [i.e., Jewish
Christianity] was outlawed as heretical".[30]
Similarly Schoeps, who regards the Ebionites (see note 27) as "Conservatives who
could not go along with the Pauline-cum-Hellenistic
elaborations".[31]
A great deal of the criticism is directed against the 'deification' of
Christ, of changing the messianic title Son of God into "an ontological
reality".[32] It seems unfair that Paul gets
all the blame, when John is equally "guilty" of subscribing to such a cosmology.
Furthermore, many scholars agree that the hymns mentioned above are actually
pre-Pauline and reflect the thinking and belief of the Hellenistic
Judaeo-Christian community.[33]
In one of these hymns, the station and mission of Jesus is summarized
thus:
Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to
be equal with God:
But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a
servant, and was made
in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled
himself, and became
obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Wherefore God also
hath highly exalted him,
and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of
Jesus every knee should
bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the
earth; And that every tongue
should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the
Father (Phil. 2:6-11).
The theme of these hymns is the myth of pre-existent Wisdom
(Gr.sophia) transferred to Jesus. In the form of a cosmic drama (Gr.
dromenon), the various scenes of pre-existence, descent, ascent
(return), and exaltation are applied to the life of Jesus. The parallels
between the Hellenistic-Jewish concept of sophia and the logos or
Wisdom Christology of John (and Paul) are indeed striking.
Sophia is pre-existent and involved with the creation of the
cosmos (Ps. 33:6; Prov. 8:22-29). She[34] is
pictured as God's beloved child ("Then I was by him, as one brought up with him:
and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him" [Prov.
8:30].)[35]. She is being sent down to earth
to reveal the will of God (Prov. 8:32-36), and returning unto Him after having
fulfilled her mission (Is. 55:
10 -11). She is the light of guidance (Prov. 4:18; 6:23; Ps. 119:105),
offering heavenly food (Prov. 9:1-6; Sir. 15:3; cf. with John 6:35). So it is
not surprising that from very early on Jesus has been identified as perfect
expression of sophia.[36] Rather than
assuming "pagan" influences, we can attest that Wisdom Christology has strong
roots in Jewish Wisdom literature and is complementary with (not contradicting)
the other Christological concepts.
We should not overlook that references and allusions to the complex of
Wisdom literature can also be detected in the Synoptic
Gospels.[37]
This is not to deny that Hellenistic cosmology and terminology shaped
the Greek speaking Jewish community in the Diaspora. But the notion that due to
this Zeitgeist (whether through Paul or anyone else) the "true" character
of Christianity had been changed and perverted is not correct and
cannot remain unchallenged. The Hellenistic Jews, as Schillebeeckx
pointed out, who had moved to Jerusalem out of religious reasons, were deeply
imbued with Biblical spirituality and more authentically "Jewish" than the
established orthodoxy. Converted to Christianity, these Diaspora Jews proved to
be the most active members of the
community.[38] Wisdom Christology then is one
of the strands of pluralist concepts that have been developed and intertwined in
the Judaeo-Christian community but it eventually became the dominant (orthodox)
view, providing the basis for the Nicaean creed.
When challenged from both Jewish and (pagan) Greek side, how the
reverence of Jesus (as
expressed in the developing liturgy) could be reconciled with their
claimed Monotheism, the early
Christians had to resort to sometimes complicated apologies. Either
they would play down the divinity of Jesus as it was confessed in the communal
prayer or they felt obliged to deny any difference between God and Jesus, in
order to avoid "Di-Theism". The former strategy led to "Adoptionism" mentioned
above, or " dynamic Monarchianism", as it is also referred
to.[39] The latter led to "Modalism" (or
"modalistic Monarchianism"), in which Jesus and God are seen as alternate
expressions of one and the same reality. This latter view gained more popularity
because it provided the theological justification for the growing reverence for
Christ. The tension between Jesus' humanity and divinity and the attempts to
explain the "inexplicable" have characterized the Christological discussions
ever since.[40]
While the extreme variants of "Monarchianism" represented only minority
views, most theologians of the second and third century would concede that
Christ had a divine nature/essence (Gr. hypostasis), which was
subordinate to God's essence. It is often said that Arius caused a major schism
because of his extreme view of Christ being subordinate to the Father (and the
logos to the Son). What is often overlooked or downplayed, is that
subordinate Christology was the common Church doctrine during the second and
third century. Proponents of subordinate Christology had strong Scriptural
evidence for their claims. Even in the Gospel of John, which presented (in
contrast to the synoptic Gospels) Christ as pre-existent incarnation of the
logos, Christ attested to the superiority of the Father (see John 14:28).
For Paul, God was the head of Christ, just as Christ was the head of man (1 Cor.
1:3). Tertullian declared that "there was a time (before creation) when God had
no Son".
Based on Jesus' statement that even he does not know the hour of his
return (Mark 13:32), Church teacher Irenaeus declared that the Father stands
above all and is also greater than the Son. Origines, the greatest theologian of
the first three centuries, defended the transcendency of God by claiming that
the "immutable God" is not affected by experiences – in soul or body
– of the human Christ.
When in the fourth century, in Alexandria, Arius propagated his views,
he could refer to a long and
well established tradition. Not surprising, his views were quite
popular and threatened the authority of his Bishop Alexander who had him
expelled to Antiochia. There, Arius sided with the followers of Origines who
likewise championed a subordinate position of Christ. Prominent Christians such
as Bishop Euseb of Caesarea (the Church historian) or Bishop Euseb of Nikodemia
embraced Arius' views. The dispute between Antiochia and Alexandria soon
threatened to divide the whole Eastern
Church.[41]
Emperor Constantine tried unsuccessfully to mediate between the two
rivalling parties and finally summoned in 325 C.E. an ecumenical council (a
universal gathering of all bishops) in his summer residence of Nicaea.
Constantine was less concerned about the theological side of the dispute but
rather to foster the political stability in his empire by the means of a uniting
(and united) Christian belief. Arius' claims were refuted and a creed, based on
the Syrian-Palestinensian credo with certain additions, was formulated. The
additions were necessary because the original creed was so general that Arius'
views could fit into it as well. The key passage of the creed (with the
additions in italics)[42] reads as such:
[Christ is] begotten as the first-born out of the essence of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not created,
of one (the same) essence with the Father.
The catchword that was introduced to refute Arius' theology was the one
of the "same essence" (Gr. homousios). Whether Constantine imposed this
term on the council, as Deschner claims (p. 395), or it repesented the common
consensus of the majority of the Bishops, remains unclear. But one can safely
say that the will and theological orientation of the Emperors of that epoch
determined, which Church doctrine was "right" or
"heretical".[43]
The new concept of homousios was too ambiguous and unreflected
and gave rise to further disputes among the Christian clergy. Many theologians
rejected the idea of God's essence being the same as Christ's and preferred to
speak of the similarity (Gr. homoeios) of the essences. A compromise was
agreed upon at the Synod of Alexandria (362 C.E.), which allowed Christians to
speak of three natures (hypostasis) but also of one, when referring
solely to God.
Meanwhile, the Cappadocian theologians Basilius, Gregor of Nazianz and
Gregor of Nyssa developed the concept of the Trinity (one God in three persons).
This doctrine, which elevated the Holy Spirit as being of the same essence as
the Father and the Son, was officially accepted at the Second Council of
Constantinople (381 C.E.). The similarity to ancient Greek and Egyptian
religious concepts has not gone unnoticed and many scholars hold such influences
responsible for
the development of this doctrine.[44]
The famous German theologian Adolf von Harnack has analyzed
Jewish and Hellenistic concepts, which have provided "an abundance of
mythologies and
meanings" for the development of dogmatic theology. The equally
prominent Protestant theologian Rudolf Bultmann writes about the influence of
Gnostic mythology.[45] Deschner even suggested
that the special interest of the three Cappadocian theologians in developing the
doctrine of Trinity could be explained by the popularity of pagan Trinities in
that region.[46] While it might have been the
case that these theologians were directly influenced by pagan concepts, it seems
more likely that they rather tried to present Christianity in such a way that it
appealed to their countrymen.
The Bible itself provides hardly any evidence for the Trinitarian
concept. The combination God, Christ and the Angels can be found many
times[47], which might have prompted Justin
(around 150) to speak even of the Quaternity of God-Father, Son, the army of
Angels, and the Holy Spirit. But the combination of Father, Son and Holy Spirit
(Holy Ghost) is so rare that one of the most famous New Testament interpolations
was added, probably sometime during the fourth century, the socalled "Johannine
Comma". In the first letter of John, the statement "And there are three that
bear witness in earth, the Spirit, and the water, and the blood: and these three
agree in one" (1 John 5:8) lent itself to an addition, which found its way into
various Codices: "For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father,
the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one" (1 John
5:7).
Most scholars likewise agree that Jesus' command, "Go ye therefore, and
teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and
of the Holy Ghost" (Matt. 28:19) is a later interpolation.
The term "Holy Ghost" is most often used for the power of inspiration,
which had inspired the prophets and ordinary people
alike.[48] Sometimes it refers to the
indwelling spirit of humans.[49]
It is the force, which begot Jesus (Matt. 1:18; 20) and led him into
the wilderness after his baptism (Luke 4:1). Blasphemy against it can never be
forgiven, but any other blasphemy, even against Jesus, could (Luke 12:10). It is
also equated with the Comforter (Gr. paraklet) that Jesus foretold (John
14:26).[50]
It is evident that not all of these concepts can be easily reconciled
with the doctrine of Trinity.
In order to find additional support for this doctrine, theologians have
sometimes stretched the interpretation of certain verses. Gregor of Nyssa for
instance interpreted Ps. 33:6, "By the word of the LORD were the heavens made;
and all the host of them by the breath of his mouth" in such wise that the
"word" refers to Jesus, and the "breath" to the Holy Ghost.
Anti-Nicaean sentiments have never died out though, and in the
sixteenth century, several critics have voiced their reservations. In 1553 C.E.,
in his polemics "Restoration of Christianity", the Spaniard Michael Servet
recapitulated all the major arguments against the doctrine of Trinity and,
refusing to recant, was burned at the stake the same year in Geneva. Georg
Biandrata and Fausto Sozzini, arguing from different perspectives, reject the
doctrine of Trinity as well.[51] Within
Protestantism, the Unitarian congregation does not accept Trinity. Harnack,
alluding to Augustin's maxim "credo quia absurdum esse" ("I believe because it
is absurd"), observes not without irony that the most paradox doctrines were
appreciated most, because they seem to guarantee that divine wisdom is being
offered, as opposed to merely human and unreliable thinking.
Be that as it is, it remains a fact that for all the major Christian
denominations this dogma represents the foundation, on which further doctrines
concerning the nature of Christ and the interplay of the Holy Spirit rest.
Having agreed on the homousios of God, Christ and the Holy
Spirit, the next question that needed to be clarified was about the human nature
of Jesus in its relation to the divine one. Two rivalling positions can be
identified. On the one side, the Alexandrian school of thought stressed the
union of the two natures of Christ. Patriarch Cyrill of Alexandria spoke of a
physical unification and of "one nature of the incarnate logos". In other
words, the logos did not enter a human being, but became truly human,
remaining divine at the same time. For this reason, Cyrill pleaded to call the
Virgin Mary "Mother of God" (Gr.
Theotokos).[52] On the other side, the
Antiochean school of thought stressed the full humanity of Christ and placed
both natures independently next to each other. The logos took residence,
so to speak, in the temple of the human Jesus. Patriarch Nestorius of
Constantinople (an Antiochian) therefore rejected the title "Mother of God" for
Mary and suggested to use the term "Mother of Christ" (Gr. Christotokos)
instead.
The Council of Ephesus (431 C.E.) was supposed to clarify this issue.
The Antiochian delegation had not yet arrived, when Cyrill opened the Council
and, not surprisingly, his position was confirmed. When the Antiochian Bishops
arrived, they initiated a counter-Council and the two sides excommunicated each
other. Emperor Theodosius II had to temporarily detain the two main opponents,
Nestorius and Cyrill. The former had to abdicate (and was granted retreat in his
Antiochian Monastery, but was exiled several times later on) and the latter
bribed his way back to his Alexandrian Patriarchate. This was a fateful
precedence for finishing off any opponent through manipulation and "the terror
of Council".[53]
Nestorius' concern that an unreflected belief in only one Christ-nature
would threaten the true humanity of Jesus proved right when Cyrill's successors
developed his teachings further and saw the two natures of Christ completely
merged into one. The human nature of Christ would get dissolved in the divine
one like "a drop of honey in the ocean". Monophysitism (Gr. mono [one]
phusis [nature]) in effect cancelled the human nature in Christ, implying
that his humanity was substantially different from ours.
This doctrine was branded as heretical at the Council of Chalcedon (451
C.E.), declaring the doctrine of the "hypostatic union" (i.e., two
natures/substances/essences [Gr. hupostasis] unmixed and inseparable, in
one person) as dogmatical. At the same time, the "heresy" of Nestorius was
confirmed, although he was "factually
rehabilitated"[54] through the (refined)
doctrine of Christ's two natures. About this decision and its consequences for
the Eastern Empire, Fowden writes:
But the theological definition Chalcedon offered was heavily
influenced by Constantinople's
wish to keep in step with Rome, which always followed a two-nature
Christology. The price
of this tribute to the West, to the old Roman ideal of a single
Mediterranean world, was the
alienation of the East – and so of any prospect of world empire.
By excluding them, Chalcedon
gave impetus and sharper profile to the two doctrines, Monophysitism
and Nestorianism, that
did so much to focus the Byzantine Commonwealth's
self-awareness.[55]
Nestorians had thus no choice but to emigrate and their denomination
became particularly successful in the Persian Empire, where it established its
doctrinal independence in 486 C.E., at the Synod of
Seleucia-Ctesiphon.[56] Their inner force was
demonstrated by a highly developed theology (Schools of Seleukia and Nisibis)
and an impressive missionary
zeal.[57]
Monophysitism violently opposed the Council's decisions and continued
to spread in the Eastern Empire. In 490 C.E. Alexandria, Jerusalem and Antioch
had Monophysist Patriarchs. In the sixth century, Monophysitism was preferred
over Chalcedonism in Nubia, Ethiopia and Southern Arabia in the South, and in
Armenia and Iberia (Southern Georgia) in the
East.[58]
Chalcedon had presented an unsolvable predicament for the Byzantine
Emperors. Either they identified themselves with and enforced the decisions of
Chalcedon, which resulted in the dogmatic-national emigration of the
Cyrillic-monophysite East, or they tried to reconcile with and appease the
Monophysites, which promptly endangered the confessional unity with Rome. The
history of the following centuries provides enough examples for both policies.
It can safely be said that the seed for the eventual schism between East and
West (1054 C.E.) was planted at Chalcedon.
With the Eastern Provinces having been reconquered from the Persians
and the rise of Islam in the seventh century, the need to unify and strengthen
the Byzantine Empire was more urgent than ever before. To re-establish
ecclesiastical unity between the Chalcedonian and Monophysite Churches was
therefore once again on top of the agenda of the Byzantine Emperor. Patriarch
Sergios of Constantinople and others developed a formula that should reconcile
the Monophysites with the Chalcedonian creed.
The compromise found was expressed in the formula of Christ having "two
natures but only one will", a doctrine called "Monotheletism". Accepted even by
Pope Honorius I, Monotheletism became Imperial Law in 638
C.E.[59]
However, the attempt to unify the Empire was only partial and with the
Oriental Provinces being lost again, this time to Islam, the compromise formula
became obsolete. Emperor Constans II tried
to end the theological dispute that had risen over this
formula[60] by forbidding its use (648 C.E.).
This was the occasion for the newly elected Pope Martin I to challenge
the Imperial authority on religious grounds by convening a Synode in Rome (649
C.E.) where Monotheletism and its proponents were declared as heretical. Because
of their opposition and the political implications this Synod had (challenging
the authority of Constantinople and reinforcing the latent danger of schism),
both the Pope and Maximus, the main proponent of this dispute, were tortured and
exiled.
However, under Constantine IV, the issue was taken up again at the
sixth Ecumenic Council, again in Constantinople (680/681 C.E.). Monotheletism
was rejected and the Chalcedonian doctrine was confirmed, by affirming that
Christ had not only two natures, but also two wills. These two wills, the
Council decreed, were not in conflict with each other, rather Jesus' human will
must be thought of having completely and voluntarily surrendered to God's will.
This did not annul Jesus' freedom of choice, since surrendering one's will to
God constitutes the highest expression of human liberty. This Council basically
confirmed, respectively anathematized the old (Chalcedonian) positions and marks
the end of the "dogmatic epoch".
From a "post-dogmatic", end-of-twentieth century's point of view one
can only pause and wonder with what vigour, violence and fanatism the
"representatives" of Christ had opposed each other. In developing ever more
complex (critics would say abstruse) doctrines about the ontological reality of
Christ, and in an attempt to define the "undefinable" with increasingly
sophisticated (and often ambigious) terminology, the "object of study's" basic
message of love and unity seems to have been largely ignored.
Again I say to you, that if two of you shall agree on the earth
concerning any matter,
whatsoever it may be that they shall ask, it shall come to them from my
Father who is in [the] heavens.
For where two or three are gathered together unto my name, there am I
in the midst of them
(Matt. 18-20, Darby).
Christ's statement to his disciples seems to be both a promise and an
admonition. Agreement and unity of vision, it is suggested, are the key
ingredients for attaining wisdom (following Solomon's example) or whatever
united and faithful souls may ask for. Applying this spiritual principle to the
various Counsels where hundreds of Bishops were "gathered together unto
[Christ's] name" and contrasting it with the "terror" of verbal and physical
abuse, of manipulation and intrigues that were so characteristic of these
meetings one seriously wonders how "inspired" all the decisions and formulas
were.
More seriously than the nature of the conduct in which the Councils
were held is the fact that their outcome was to a large extent already
predetermined. Depending on the theological (and political) orientation of the
Emperors who convened (and often controlled) the Councils, it was clear
beforehand, which positions would be rejected, or even anathematized and
declared as "heretical" and which one would become official and "orthodox"
doctrine. "Dogmatical orthodoxy and political loyalty", as Beyschlag remarks,
"became inseparable and can be considered as interchangable terms" (116,
translation mine).
This is not to reject out of hand and entirely all the insights that
the Church has gained about the nature of Christ over the centuries. But to
postulate that they were divinely inspired and of equal value as the Gospels
themselves, is more a political than a theological statement, meant to secure
the position of power and authority.[61] To
oppose one of the Councils' dogmas is still today considered formally as heresy.
In the words of Harnack, the author of the classic seven-volume
Dogmengeschichte (History of Dogma), "according to the conception of the
church, dogma can be
nothing else than the revealed faith
itself."[62]
Of course, the equation of dogma (revealed doctrine) with Christ's
revelation itself is problematic, given the various Christologies that exist, as
the historical overview has shown. Such an exclusivist view is therefore
rejected by all other Christian denominations that nevertheless share the claim
of Christian exclusivity.[63] This claim for
exclusivity, in turn, is rejected by most other religions, which, ironically,
have similar claims of their own. In the light of interfaith dialogue however,
this position has to be respected and addressed as
well[64] and the following chapter will deal
with these Christological questions from a Bahá´í point of
view.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
´Abdu´l-Bahá. Some Answered Questions.
Wilmette, Ill.: Bahá´í Publishing Trust, 1981.
Bahá´u´lláh. Epistle to the Son of the
Wolf. Wilmette, Ill.: Bahá´í Publishing Trust,
1988.
-----. Gleanings from the Writings of
Bahá´u´lláh. Wilmette, Ill.:
Bahá´í Publishing Trust, 1983.
-----. The Hidden Words. Oxford: Oneworld Publ.,
1992.
-----. The Proclamation of Bahá´u´lláh.
Haifa: Bahá´í World Centre, 1972.
Beyschlag, Karlmann. Grundriss der Dogmengeschichte II (Gott
und Mensch), Teil 1 (Das christologische Dogma). Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche
Buchgesellschaft, 1991.
Buck, Christopher. Paradise and Paradigm. Key Symbols in Persian
Christianity and the Bahá´í Faith. Albany, N.Y.: State University of New York Press,
1999.
Dembowski, Hermann. Einführung in die Christologie.
Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche
Buchgesellschaft, 1976.
Deschner, Karlheinz. Abermals krähte der Hahn. Hamburg:
Rowohlt, 1979 [1962].
Fazel, Seena and Fananapazir, Khazeh. "A Bahá´í
Approach to the Claim of Eclusivity and
Uniqueness in Christianity." The Journal of Bahá´í
Studies 3.2 (1990-91): 15-24.
Fowden, Garth. Empire to Commonwealth. Consequences of monotheism in
late antiquity.
Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1993.
Franzen, August. Kleine Kirchengeschichte. Freiburg: Herder,
1975 [1965].
Hahn, Ferdinand. Christologische Hoheitstitel. Göttingen:
Vandenhoek und Ruprecht, 1995 [1963].
Heaton, E.W. A Short Introduction to the Old Testament Prophets.
Oxford: Oneworld Publ., 1997
[1977].
Hünermann, Peter. Jesus Christus. Gottes Wort in der Zeit. Eine
systematische Christologie.
Münster: Aschendorff, 1994.
McLean, J.A. "Prolegomena to a Bahá´í Theology." The
Journal of Bahá´í Studies 5.1 (1992):
24-67.
Schillebeeckx, Edward. Jesus. Die Geschichte von einem Lebenden.
Freiburg: Herder, 1992.
Schäfer, Udo. The light shineth in darkness. Oxford: George
Ronald, 1979 [1977].
Swidler, Leonard and Mojzes, Paul, eds. The Uniqueness of Jesus. A
Dialogue with Paul F. Knitter
(Faith meets Faith Series). Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books,
1997.
[1] Of course it would be too simplistic
to assume that any of these titles is exclusively related to and the origin of
one specific Christology. These designations had various layers of meanings, and
were consequently used in different contexts, as will be shown. [2] For a detailed philological overview
of the various scholarly positions on the five most important christological
titles (Son of man, Kyrios, Christ, Son of David, Son of God) see Hahn,
Christologische Hoheitstitel. [3] Cf. e.g. "Whosoever shall confess
me before men, him shall the Son of man also confess before the angels of God"
(Luke 12:8) with " Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him
will I confess also before my Father which is
in heaven" (Matt. 10:32). [4] It should be noted that the Hebrew
word adam not only refers to someone of the male gender, but also to a
human being in the generic sense. [5] Heaton writes that between 300 BC
and 300 CE apocalyptic writings "emerged and flourished in Judea", and he lists
The Book of Enoch, The Apocalypse of Abraham, The Assumption of Moses and The
Testament of Job. However, only the book of Daniel has been accepted into the
canon of Hebrew scriptures (see Heaton, A Short Introduction to the Old
Testament Prophets 157). [6] 1 Enoch 46:1-3, quoted in Brad H.
Young, Jesus the Jewish Theologian 248. [7] The Apocalypse of Enoch is included
in the Abessinian Bible, and one reference to it can be found in the apocryphal
Gospel of Jude (verse 14, referring to Henoch 1:9). Quoted in Deschner,
Abermals kraehte der Hahn 20. [8] Flusser, Jesus in
Selbstzeugnissen und Bilddokumenten, quoted in Young, Jesus the Jewish
Theologian 243. [9] In four songs, embedded in the 'Book
of Consolation' (chapters 42, 49, 50, 52-53), Isaiah describes the
sufferings and ultimate victory of the 'Servant of God'. See also Ps.
22, which thematizes the sufferings and hopes of
the 'Just One', and whose opening line ("My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me?") Jesus quotes on the cross,
before rendering up his spirit (Matt. 27:46). [10] See Luke 22:37 for a direct
reference to Isaiah 53:12. Other, more general allusions, Luke 22:19-20, Mark
10:45. [11] Young, Jesus the Jewish
Theologian 244, 247. [12] Young, Jesus the Jewish
Theologian 246. Young uses the RSV translation. All other quotes (unless
mentioned otherwise) are taken from the King James Bible. [13] See, for example, Matt. 19:17,
20:23, 24:36, 26:39, John 5:22, 5:30, 8:28 a.o. [14] ´Abdu´l-Bahá,
Some Answered Questions 128. [15] John Hick has identified these
three perspectives: the exclusivist one (accepting only one's faith as true and
rejecting all others as false; the inclusivist one (giving some credence to
other religions but claiming the "full truth" for one's own: and the pluralist
one (regarding all religions as equally "true" and valid). Needless to say that
for Hick, the most appropriate approach for interreligious dialogue would be the
latter one. The advantages and limitations of this model will be discussed in
the next chapter. [16] Traditional Biblical exegesis has
made use of a fourfold level of interpretation: the literal, the moral, the
allegorical, and the eschatological (messianic) level. [17] This connection is only described
in the Gospel of Luke, not in Mark. [18]
Bahá´u´lláh, Gleanings 57. It was for this
reason, Bahá´u´lláh explains in another context, that
Jesus did not marry and lead a family life (see Proclamation of
Bahá´u´lláh 95-6; Epistle to the Son of the
Wolf 49-50). [19] The four recognized ways of
interpreting the Bible are the literal one, the allegorical (symbolic) one, the
moral one, and the eschatological (referring to the 'end-time')
one. [20]
Bahá´u´lláh, Hidden Words, Persian No. 27. See
also Nos. 26, 28-31. These admonitions are reminiscent of Matt.
6:19-24. [21] Mark 3:10-12. For similar
instances, see Mark 1:24 (where Jesus was addressed as "the Holy One of God");
Mark 1:34; Luke 8:28. [22] It is important to remember that
the eternal Covenant, as it was firstly established with Noah (Gen. 9), and
subsequently renewed with Abraham (Gen. 12:3), included all humanity. The
privileged position with which God eventually favoured Israel (by inference,
Judaism and Christianity) can therefore not be understood as excluding other
peoples and religions from divine grace and guidance. Furthermore, this
privilege is conditional, based on the twin obligation to love God and keep his
laws (Deut. 7:6-12). [23] 2 Samuel 7:12-16. The parallel
report in the Chronicles (1 Chr. 17:11-14) omits the reference to the potential
chastisement of the Messiah, possibly out of theological concern. [24] The statement "I will be his
father, and he will be my son" is a socalled formula of adoption or
inthronisation (see also Ps.s 2:7, 89:21, 110:3), originally used to anoint a
king, later also the Judges, priests and prophets. In this way, the term
"messiah" (the anointed one) combined the notions of royal authority with the
spiritual functions of guarding the (divine) Law and living a sanctified
life. [25] Ezekiel calls him "Prince" (as
opposed to "King") and stresses his mediating and guiding (shepherd) functions
(Ez. 34:23-24; 37:24-25); Zechariah describes the spiritual qualities (justice,
humility) of the future Saviour (Zech. 9:9-10); Isaiah even lets the Persian
king Cyrus take the role of the (political) Messiah (Isa. 45:1), while at the
same time he develops the model of the suffering and humble "Servant of God" to
bring spiritual liberation (see n. 6); and Daniel had his apocalyptic visions of
a superhuman figure coming "with the clouds of heaven" (see above). [26] Matthew (26:64) divides Jesus'
answer in confirming the question and foretelling his return; Luke (22:67-70)
goes even further and separates the question so that Jesus' confirmation to be
the Son of God is detached from its eschatological context. [27] See Hahn, Christologische
Hoheitstitel 289-292. [28] Prominent advocates of this
belief were Theodotos of Byzantium (excommunicated end of the 2nd
cent.), Artemon in Rome (around 235), and Paul of Samosata (d. after 272). It
should also be noted that several Judaeo-Christian sects, already extinct in the
fourth century, have rejected the notion of Jesus being "divine" (Ebionites,
Nazarenes).
See Deschner, Abermals kraehte der Hahn 375-405, for more
details of the following historical overview; Huenermann, Jesus Christus,
Gottes Wort in der Zeit 128-56, for a parallel theological (Catholic)
overview. The differences between these two positions could not be more
profound. Deschner attacks mercilessly the development of the (Catholic) Church
as "deviation" from the historical religion. Huenermann, on the other side,
describes the gradual unfoldment and maturation of the Church, from early
"unreflected" to ever more complex understanding of the transcendent
verities. [29] See Deschner, Abermals kraehte
der Hahn 389. Important protagonists of Modalism were Bishop Noetos of
Smyrna, Sabelius and Praxeas (all around 200). Ironically, Pope Victor I who
excommunicated the Adoptionist Theodotos (see n. 27) did so under the premises
of Modalism. [30] Schonfield, Those incredible
Christians 118, quoted in Schaefer, The light shineth in darkness
83. [31] Schoeps, Theologie und
Geschichte des Judenchristentums 322, quoted in Schaefer, The light
shineth in darkness 83. [32] Schaefer, The light shineth in
darkness 82. It is unfortunate that Schaefer, a prominent German
Bahá´í scholar, joins in the chorus of such critical
one-sided voices. Space does not permit to even list (let alone dispute) all the
allegations that have been brought up against Paul. (An apology doing justice to
Paul from a Bahá´í point of view has yet to be written.)
Suffice it to say that Paul never claimed that "God in his essence was walking
on earth", as Schaefer insinuates. In fact, Paul's description of Christ being
the "image of God" (cf. 2 Cor. 4:4; Col. 1:15; Heb. 1:3) is quite compatible
with the prominent 'Sun – Mirror' metaphor (describing the relationship
between God and his manifestations) in the Bahá´í
Writings. [33] See Hahn, Christologische
Hoheitstitel ch. 5; Schillebeeckx, Jesus 380-83; Commentary of
Neue Jerusalemer Bibel to Phil. 2:6-11. [34] Wisdom is a feminine noun in
Hebrew (hokma) and Greek (sophia). Furthermore, the feminine gender is
employed here, because Wisdom is being discussed in the context of the Hebrew
Writings, where she is portrayed as Solomon's bride (Wis. 8:2, 8:9), and also
likened to a Mother figure (Sir. 15:2). [35] Further personifications of
sophia can be found in Prov. 1:20-33; 3:16-19; 8 and 9. [36] At least on one occasion, Jesus
identifies himself with Wisdom (Matt. 11:19). Paul refers to Christ as "the
power and wisdom (sophia) of God" (1 Cor. 1:24). The Church Fathers
(Justin, Origen, Tertullian) regarded sophia, logos and "First-born" as
synonymous expressions of the Holy Spirit (see Sours, "The Maid of Heaven, the
image of Sophia, and the Logos. Personification of the Spirit of God in
Scripture and Sacred Literature", Journal of Bahá´í Studies
4:1). [37] Apart from the direct reference
(see n. 35), Jesus also claims to be greater than Solomon (Matt. 12:42) who was
known as embodiment of Wisdom. The incidents where Jesus exorcises evil spirits
who know that he is the Son of God (cf. Matt. 8:29; Mark 3:11; Luke 4:41;
8:28) remain puzzling unless brought into context with Christ being superior to
Solomon who had power over all evil spirits (who knew and dreaded
him). [38] Schillebeeckx, Jesus
430. [39] God is defined as one Universal
Cause (Gr. arche), Jesus as human being, empowered with this
arche. [40] A complete survey, however brief,
of all the Christological models would go way beyond the scope of this chapter.
The following historical and theological overview therefore covers only the
first few centuries, during which the basic creeds were formed and refined.
Suffice it to say that each epoch (from Medieval Scholasticism to Enlightenment
Scepticism to Postmodern Pluralism) has produced different outlooks and insights
into the Christological question.
For current (pluralistic) discussions see, e.g., Swidler and Mojzes,
eds., The Uniqueness of Jesus. A Dialogue with Paul E.
Knitter. [41] In the West, as Deschner
pointedly notes, the intellectual level of the theologians was not so advanced
at that time, to be able to follow this theological dispute. The two only
eminent theologians in third century Rome were counter-popes, Hippolyt
(constantly opposed) and Novatian (excommunicated). It is also noteworthy that,
at the Council of Nicaea, only seven delegates (out of approximately 300) were
from the West. [42] Quoted from Huenermann, Jesus
Christus 144-5, in my translation. [43] The Arian dispute is a good
example for this political influence. When two years after the Council
Constantine changed his mind, he summoned the Bishops to another Synod in Nicaea
(327), where Arius was rehabilitated again. His main opponent Bishop Athanasius,
on the other hand, was exiled five times under Constantine and his successors.
During the reign of Constantine's son Constantius Arianism became official
Church doctrine, but was forbidden again under the Catholic emperors Gratian
(375 – 383) in the West and Theodosius (379 – 395) in the
East. [44] Aristoteles regarded the number
three as sacred and defined threeness as number for the whole because it
embraces beginning, middle and end. Already Xenokrates (400 BC) postulated a
Trinity at the peak of the universe, and all the Hellenistic religions had
trinitarian concepts, such as the "three-in-one" God Hermes in the theology of
Hermes Trismegistos, or the triad of Zagreus, Phanes and Dionysos in the
Dionysian religion. Among the Roman triads were Jupiter, Juno and Minerva, and
in Egypt Isis, Sarapis (Osiris) and Horus (see Deschner, Abermals kraehte der
Hahn 381-82). [45] See Huenermann, Jesus
Christus 151-52. [46] See Deschner, Abermals kraehte
der Hahn 386. [47] See e.g. Matt. 16:27; 24:36;
25:31; Eph. 1:15; 1 Tim. 5:21; Rev. 3:5. [48] See Mark 12:36 for David; Luke
1:15 for John the Baptist; for Christ himself (Luke 3:22; 4:1), and for pious
people (Luke 1:41 and 1:67 for John the Baptist's parents; Luke 2:25 for Simeon;
Acts 2:4 for the believers at Pentecoast; Luke 12:12 or Acts 5:5 for the
apostolic mission). [49] See 2 Tim. 1:14; Titus 3:5 speaks
about the "renewing of the Holy Ghost" in the hearts of the
believers. [50] Christians believe that this
prophecy found its fulfillment through the outpourings of the Holy Spirit at
Pentecoast. Muslims regard this as a reference to Muhammad, and
Bahá´ís see an archetypal function in the role of the
Comforter, which is being displayed with the coming of every Manifestation of
God. The latter perspective is supported by Stephen's final speech prior his
martyrdom, "Ye stiffnecked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do always
resist the Holy Ghost: as your fathers did, so do ye" (Acts 7:51). [51] It is interesting to note that
those critics argue from "classical" points of view. Servet from a Modalist
perspective, Biandrata from an Arian one, Sozzini takes up Ebionite thoughts
(Dembowski, Einführung in die Christologie 147-8. [52] Cyrill was an active promoter of
the cult that developed around the figure of the Virgin Mary. He established two
Holy Days (Mary's Annunciation and Mary's Ascension), both overlapping with (and
meant to surpress) pagan celebrations of Goddesses (see Deschner, Abermals
kraehte der Hahn 368). [53] Beyschlag, Grundriss der
Dogmengeschichte 53. [54] Ibid. 134. [55] Fowden, Empire to Commonwealth.
Consequences of monotheism in late antiquity 117. "Constantinople's wish to keep
in step with Rome" was in fact a political turn, initiated by Theododius' II
sister who (together with General Markian, her future husband and emperor-to-be)
seized power after her brother's sudden death in 450. The threat of the
Alexandrian Patriarch Dioskur becoming too powerful was one of the reasons for
the approach towards Rome (see Beyschlag, Grundriss der Dogmengeschichte
II 57-8). [56] Today recognized as a misnomer,
more appropriate designations would be East Syriac Christianity, or "Church of
the East"(self-designation), or "Persian Christianity" (referring to the
community in the Sasanian Empire). However, the term "Nestorianism" continues to
be used out of convenience (see Buck, Paradise and Paradigm
4). [57] Missionaries established
communities in Malabar/India and Chinese Turkestan; in the ninth century they
came as far as Central China and Tibet. The East Syrian Church "became the most
influential form of extra-Roman Christianity" (Buck, Paradise and Paradigm
38), before it was destroyed and its adherents decimated by the Mongols.
Parts of the Syrian Church (Chaldeans, Malabar Christians) united with Rome in
the sixteenth century and today there are an estimated 80.000 believers in Irak,
Iran and Syria, 5.000 in India, and 25.000 in America (Franzen, Kleine
Kirchengeschichte 84). [58] Fowden identifies political as
well as theological reasons for such a preference. In the case of Armenia, for
example, Nestorianism's growing success in Iran may have made it seem less
attractive to Armenians. More significantly, the tensions against Constantinople
who did not support them against the Persians, led the Armenians eventually to
reject the Council of Chalcedon's decision and opt for Monophytism. The rise of
Monophysitism in Ethiopia and Southern Arabia was similarly a symptom of the
Byzantine Commonwealth's scope for independence, or, from Constantinople's
viewpoint, disloyalty. This is best illustrated by Ethiopia's national epic,
Kebra Nagast (The Glory of Kings), which provokes a counterclaim to
universal authority by asserting to be even superior to Byzantine, because of
their king's descension to Solomon's firstborn. Nubia (today Sudan) converted to
the Egyptian (Coptic) brand of Monophysitism and, despite of being cut off from
other Christian countries, remained Christian until its eventual Islamization in
the sixteenth century (see Fowden, Empire to Commonwealth ch. 5).
[59] Sergios originally proposed the
concept of "two natures and one energy", which was opposed by the Jerusaleme
Patriarch Sophronius. He then converted to the notion of "one will", hardly more
than a change of name. Concerning the Pope's consent it is said that he was not
familiar enough with "Greek theology" to realize the Monophysite "disguise" of
the formula (Franzen, Kleine Kirchengeschichte 88). When the formula was
rejected in 681 and, as usual, their proponents anathematized, Pope Honorius was
cursed as well. The "fall" of that Pope was brought to light again in 1870,
during the preparations for the dogma of Papal Infallibility, and caused quite
some embarrassment. [60] The leading figure of the
Chalcedonian orthodoxy's opposition was Maximus Confessor. He argued that the
faculty of will belongs to the two natures of Christ, not to his one
hypostasis. Christ therefore has two natures, two will, and two energies.
[61] Emperor Justinian was the first
to make such a claim. For Beyschlag, this proves the "surpassing dignity in
dogmatic- historical respect" (130, translation mine) of the (first four)
Councils. For me, this is rather a dubious reference, given that under Justinian
the persecution of "pagans" and "heretics" reached their climax. Not to accept
the official Church doctrine and to engage in any other form of religious
activity could lead to capital punishment. He also introduced coercive
conversion and baptism and placed all non-Christians and non-orthodox Christians
outside the law. Furthermore, he completely controlled and regulated internal
Church affairs. As a typical representative of "Caesaropapism" even the Pope had
to surrender to his will (see Deschner, Abermals kraehte der Hahn 327,
395-6, 450, 470). The political nature of this argument (and its devastating
consequences for "heretics" and non-Christians) is equally valid for the Roman
Catholic Church in the West, once it had assumed a similar role of secular
leadership (from the eleventh century onwards). [62] Harnack, History of Dogma
1:9, quoted in J.A. McLean, "Prolegomena to a Bahá´í
Theology." The Journal of Bahá´í Studies 5.1 (1992): 34.
[63] "Christian exclusivity was later
summarized in the traditional Roman Catholic doctrine, which stated that outside
the Church there is no salvation, and in its Protestant missionary equivalent,
that outside Christianity there is no salvation" (Fazel and Fananapazir, "A
Bahá´í Approach to the Claim of Exclusivity and Uniqueness in
Christianity." The Journal of Bahá´í Studies 3.2 (1990-91):
18). [64] The struggle of Christian
theologians engaged in interfaith dialogue to redefine and come to terms with
the concept of "Christ's uniqueness" so that it does not become an impediment to
"real dialogue", is well documented in Paul Knitter's "Five Theses on the
Uniqueness of Jesus" and its twenty responses (Swidler and Mojzes, eds., The
Uniqueness of Jesus. A Dialogue with Paul E. Knitter). The compatibility of
many of these concepts with the Bahá´í Faith will be explored
in the next chapter.