In my mind, this seems an improvement on pagan religion, at least for myself. The Norse adore Thor for his strength and courage. The Hindu Shiva is venerated as a destroyer and the standard of invincibility. Zeus sits and casts thunderbolts from Olympus. By contrast, the Hebrew and Christian Bible is full of heroes who glory in their weakness.
My favorite story when I was a kid was of David and Goliath. I had a picture book with a 7-inch, 33-rpm record that recounted the story. It mixed the actual words of scripture with some fanciful re-telling, but it was largely faithful. David was depicted as a young boy, sent by his father, Jesse, to take food to his brothers who were camped against the Philistines. I can still hear the sound of footsteps on gravel as David walked to meet them.
All of the Hebrews were terrified of the Philistine giant and David, full of piss and vinegar, is outraged that no one has gone up against him. He goes to King Saul and tells him that he is a shepherd, that he has fought lions and bears, and that he will kill the giant. Saul puts his armor on David and gives him his sword, but they are too heavy. David takes them off and opts instead for his trusty slingshot and five smooth stones from the brook. (Can you hear that trickling water?)
Their hero story is noteworthy, because the Jews, a Bronze Age people, tell us that leather and stone went up against the finest weaponry of the day. That shouldn't be lost in the telling.
Goliath predictably mocks the young man and tells him he will feed him to the birds of the air. David's response still sends chills up my spine:
Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand.You know what happens next, right?
David is remembered as Israel's greatest king, and this story plays a large part in that legacy. It's a variation on the theme I mentioned in my first post on the subject, but an important one. Tradition says that David's son later wrote: "The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong . . ." In an ancient world where battles had heretofore always gone to the strong, this was news.
David's not the only one, of course. There are very few Bible heroes noteworthy for their physical strength. The notable exception is the judge, Samson, who slew a thousand men using only the jawbone of an ass. Yet even in that story, his real strength is not known until he is humbled, bound to a post with his hair shorn. Only then is he used by God. (Interestingly, God chooses to use him as a suicide killer, something we claim to abhor as a culture, though I remember hearing Samson's tale at least annually as a child.)
The interesting thing about Jesus Christ in the whole tale is not simply his humble birth, although the feeding trough and attendant barn animals add to the rustic charm of the story. But many heroes have humble origin stories and we are drawn to that. It seems to promise us that, no matter how low our beginnings, we may go on to do great things.
Those heroes are usually noted for vanquishing armies or dragons or legions of demons, perhaps rescuing damsels or returning treasure to their people. By contrast, Jesus has a fairly nondescript tale. He walks about healing the sick and preaching that the kingdom of God is at hand. It's true that some of his acts can truly be called miraculous, but they are forever in service to mercy. He makes the lame to walk, because he pities them. He feeds those who are hungry. He brings the dead back to life to be with their loved ones again. He even changes water into wine to save a friend embarrassment at his wedding.
"This is what God is like," he says. And by extension, we are much more like the gods when we are merciful.
"I and the Father are one," he tells the crowd, and they put him to death for this. The ancient world was not ready for a god of meekness and mercy. He is led to slaughter and his only words are those of forgiveness. There is no oath to seek vengeance on his enemies, no wise final pronouncement, no regretting he had but one life to give for his country.
Now, lest I be misunderstood, I want to be clear: the Bible is not all meekness and gentleness. There is bloodshed and misery and ample doses of bigotry of all sorts. But the stories that bounce around in my head and help make meaning of my own narrative are those with the unlikeliest of heroes.
It is strange that Jesus' followers in our own time glory so much in virtues he seemed to abhor. No one is as righteous in his own eyes as the modern American Christian, it would seem, and no one admires the wealthy more than they do. Jesus broke bread with poor people, adulterers, crooks, drunkards, and prostitutes. His followers won't sell pizza to a queer.
"Crooks and whores will enter the kingdom of God before the religious," Jesus preached. Is there anyone who believes that any more?
I'm not into Jesus like I once was, it is true, but I still see the truth in those stories that tell me that our strength is perfected in weakness, that the first will be last and the last will be first. You righteous people can keep your own company. I'll be pouring bloody marys for whores and drunkards.
