The Judeo-Christian Paradox

Christians and Jews share a common scripture, a common moral vocabulary, and a common God. They also share a long and often painful history.

In this episode, Robert explores the paradox at the heart of the Judeo-Christian tradition: how two communities so deeply connected could become so deeply estranged.

Transcript

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Saw some interesting commentary over the last few days about a U.S. Department of Education notice of final priorities on promoting patriotic education and discretionary grant programs. And the debate that I saw online was about the inclusion of the term Judeo-Christianity and Judeo-Christian values in its definition of the American political tradition. And the notice pointed out that there has been some critique of the use of these terms in the formulation of American education. And I thought it was a great opportunity to address one of the big holes in any argument for the Judeo-Christian tradition and its importance in the United States of America. I've spent enough time in and around the Jewish community to hear the phrase Judeo-Christian tradition, and uh know why it sounds a little insane. Traditionally, Christians were the only people that used that term. Although, interestingly, in recent years, a growing number of Jews have come around and embraced it. When I've tried to explain to Christians why that phrase can sound offensive to some Jewish ears, I get blank stares. What are you talking about, they say? Judeo-Christian tradition. That's a good thing. That's a pro-Jewish thing. Why wouldn't Jews like that? I try to explain that the history of Jewish-Christian relations is rather fraught, shall we say. And at that point, their confusion only grows. Those Christians who understand what I'm talking about might say at that point something like, well, okay, sure, but those weren't real Christians. From a Jewish perspective, the only tradition that links Christians and Jews is a tradition of persecutor and persecuted, which means that hyphen is doing a lot of work. Without going into all of that history here, I can only say that Christians need to be a little more aware of our forebears, true believers in Jesus Christ, many of them, and practitioners of the faith, no less than we, and how those forebears, in the name of Christ, did their best to exact vengeance on his kinsmen with good intentions, no doubt, but in Jewish eyes, the result is the same. The Judeo-Christian tradition is something of a paradox, because while it's a tradition marked by persecution and worse, there's no doubt that Christians and Jews share a common patrimony. What pray tell, asks the Jew, could we possibly share? The obvious answer is the Bible, or at least those two-thirds of the Bible that we Christians call the Old Testament. Jews call it the Tanakh, which in Hebrew is an acronym, a three-letter acronym for Torah, the first five books, Niviim, the prophets, and Ketuvim, the writings. T-N K Tanakh. Christians and Jews read the Old Testament through different eyes. Jews through the lens of the rabbinic tradition, Christians through the lens of the New Testament or Christian tradition. But we all agree that these texts have divine origin, that they are in fact the Word of God. We all believe that they contain nothing less than the secret of life on earth, which is why we obey it. We interpret it differently, but we revere it equally. And because we share those texts, we share all of what is contained in them: the concepts, the stories, the motifs, particular phrases, in many cases, doctrines and principles. And in all cases, that distinctive moral vision that Israel brought to the world, a vision that contains our ideas of equality and freedom and justice. Those things don't originate in Greece or Rome or China or India. Those words, as we understand them, only come from one place. And that's from the Bible. And we share, above all, a common way of seeing history. Jews and Christians disagree on a lot, but we see history in a very similar way. Meaning we see it not as a series of endless loops or as just one big static moment that lasts forever, but as a story, as a linear and progressive story that has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and a story that carries deep meaning and orients us in the present. The idea that history has a meaning, something that's so commonplace for us, commonplace enough that we don't even think about it, we don't question it. It's hard for us to imagine anyone thinking anything differently, whether they're religious or not. But that idea was a novel idea when introduced to the world in Jerusalem. And of course, above all of that, above the texts and the values and the way of seeing history, above all of that is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of Israel, who revealed himself in the Bible, through the Bible, to Israel's prophets, who created the world and who is active in the world, bringing about the consummation of history. We share that God. We define and describe that God differently, Jews and Christians. And Jews certainly think the Christian view of God, the Trinitarian view of God, is heresy. But we bow before the same throne and we offer up prayers to the same personality who stands above it all. And it's for that reason that our two faith communities are inextricably linked, much to our own chagrin, or at least to many of us, that patrimony. We share that, that tradition, the Hebraic tradition, and the fact that we don't see it only deepens the mystery. It's a true paradox, and one best described by the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans. Paul did his best to clarify this thing, the mystery of Israel, and to explain the relationship between the synagogue and the church. But it remains to this day a mystery that bedevils far more Christians and Jews than it convinces. And speaking for myself, I could say even those of us who recognize and appreciate that mystery can't fully understand what it all means. Unfortunately, it seems like only when confronted by shared enemies, whether radical Muslims or radical atheists or some other group, that Jews and Christians start to admit that, yeah, okay, we are connected. We do share something. Yet sadly, even in that moment, we often categorize or explain that connection in pragmatic or political or strictly cultural terms, not realizing the true depth of what binds us. That paradox is real. And for all of the arguing and for all of my enthusiasm about the Hebraic tradition, it needs to be pointed out that this is not obvious. There are major clashes inside Hebraic culture that need to be acknowledged. And uh it should, at the very least, inspire respect. Ideally, it would inspire awe. Please uh continue to share, uh, continue to reach out. It uh really makes my day. And uh you can reach me at Robert at Robertw Nicholson.com. Until next time, Rachot, blessings, and take care.