Paul and the Faithfulness of God: Re-imagining the Symbols of the Jewish Worldview (Battle)

We are considering N. T. Wright’s newly released Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Christian Origins and the Question of God) — a massive and masterful consideration of Paul’s theology.

We been considering Wright’s review of the various symbols at the heart of the worldview of the Jews of Paul’s day: Temple, Torah, Prayer, Land, Family, Battle, and Scripture. We pick up with Battle.

Battle

Because the New Testament only records the destruction of Jerusalem in Jesus’ prophecies, we tend to minimize the dynamic of the Jewish rebellion against Rome in our thinking. We remember that one of Jesus’ apostles was a Zealot, sworn to overthrow Rome, but otherwise the destruction of the Temple and fall of Jerusalem do not much factor into our thinking.

Obviously, if you were a First Century Jew, you likely thought very differently. Even the most pacifistic Jew likely hated the fact that his nation — his inheritance — was subject to Rome’s domination — that Roman soldiers were stationed in Jerusalem, carrying their pagan banners, honoring their idolatrous gods at the edge of the Temple.

Wright points out that in the inter-testamental literature, there’s a plain strand of thought going back to Phinehas. We begin with this obscure passage in the Psalms —

(Psa 106:30-31 ESV)  30 Then Phinehas stood up and intervened, and the plague was stayed.  31 And that was counted to him as righteousness from generation to generation forever.

This actually reads quite a lot like God’s covenant with Abraham, although the Abrahamic covenant takes up a lot more of the Law and the Prophets. This passage is based on —

(Num 25:6-13 ESV)  6 And behold, one of the people of Israel came and brought a Midianite woman to his family, in the sight of Moses and in the sight of the whole congregation of the people of Israel, while they were weeping in the entrance of the tent of meeting.  7 When Phinehas the son of Eleazar, son of Aaron the priest, saw it, he rose and left the congregation and took a spear in his hand  8 and went after the man of Israel into the chamber and pierced both of them, the man of Israel and the woman through her belly. Thus the plague on the people of Israel was stopped.  9 Nevertheless, those who died by the plague were twenty-four thousand.

10 And the LORD said to Moses,  11 “Phinehas the son of Eleazar, son of Aaron the priest, has turned back my wrath from the people of Israel, in that he was jealous with my jealousy among them, so that I did not consume the people of Israel in my jealousy.  12 Therefore say, ‘Behold, I give to him my covenant of peace,  13 and it shall be to him and to his descendants after him the covenant of a perpetual priesthood, because he was jealous for his God and made atonement for the people of Israel.'”

In short, while the dominant theme of the Old Testament is God’s covenant of faith with Abraham, a story that includes God staying Abraham’s hand against Isaac, there’s a minor theme in which God reward Phinehas for his violent purifying of Israel, which was also “counted to him as righteousness.”

Although Phinehas disappears from the Old Testament after Psalm 106, a review of the intertestamental literature shows that the Jews of Paul’s day took God’s promises to Phinehas very seriously — and it’s easy to see how an occupied people might choose to take Phinehas on as a hero.

Wright believes that Saul of Tarsus — pre-conversion on the road to Damascus — was committed to zeal for God after the pattern of Phinehas. This fits both with the Jewish worldview of the day as well as Saul’s actions in brutally persecuting the church. Saul of Tarsus was a man of great zeal for violence, which at the time, would have been justified (not unreasonably) as following in the footsteps of Phinehas.

Other Jews were not so focused on persecuting the church but on rebelling against Rome. Also fueled by the story of Phinehas, many of the rebels were preparing for revolution against Rome during Paul’s day.

In short, in Paul’s day, Judaism had a substantial appetite for violence. It’s no surprise that Paul ran into mobs and lynchings at the hands of Jews throughout his missionary journeys!

And so, how did Paul re-imagine the symbol of battle — or even violence in the name of God?

(2Co 10:3-6 ESV)  3 For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh.  4 For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds.  5 We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ,  6 being ready to punish every disobedience, when your obedience is complete.

Although Paul was repeatedly met with violent resistance by the Jews — and sometimes by the pagans — he responded intellectually — with arguments.

More importantly, perhaps, Paul came to see the battle — the real battle — happening elsewhere —

(1Co 15:24-26 ESV) 24 Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power.  25 For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet.  26 The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

Jesus will defeat “every rule and every authority and power” — ultimately destroying Death itself. In fact, in several passages, Paul speaks of the cosmic struggle against God’s enemies.

(Col 2:15 ESV) 15 He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.

(Eph 6:12 ESV) 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

And if the true enemies of Jesus are cosmic powers, then the humans who are their instruments aren’t to be killed with a spear but persuaded to change sides. The pagans and unbelieving Jews aren’t so much the enemy as people under the control of the enemy, needing to be rescued.

Sadly, our Enlightenment perspective makes it hard to believe in cosmic powers, and therefore we see those who disagree with us as enemies. We attack the “liberals” and others with the zeal of Phinehas, ready to run them through if it were only possible. We don’t see them as victims or persons to be loved.

But if we wish to be added to the household of Abraham, we must be added by faith, not zeal for violence — or even hatred. Rather, faith comes by example and persuasion, not battle.