Staking Out the Territory
Fifty years ago, Raymond Brown had already established his position as one of the world's leading Catholic New Testament scholars. His magisterial two-volume commentary on John's gospel remains an invaluable reference for scholars. At a time when American Catholics were still “minor leaguers” in contrast to British, German, and French exegetes, biblical theologians, Fr. Brown along with Joseph A. Fitzmyer, SJ, and Roland E. Murphy, OCarm. had produced the Jerome Biblical Commentary (1968) to provide a solid foothold for students in the best of historical-critical research into the books of the Bible, their history, religion, and theological concepts. Like his coeditors, Brown remained convinced that careful historical-critical study was our surest way of understanding what the Bible's authors sought to communicate. Where that analysis unseated naïve or literalist dogmatic “proof-texting,” it requires a correction in theological argument but will not require rejection of the foundational dogmas of the church.Footnote 23
Fr. Brown also articulated his position on other questions that are essential to this discussion of Christology. He raised the question of whether the New Testament uses “God” for Jesus in the ontological sense of later creeds. With a detailed survey of all possible passages including John 1:18 and 1 John 5:20, he insists that for the New Testament there are functional expressions in which “God” language may be predicated of Jesus, often formulated as the expressions Christians used in worship or doxology, which enables an affirmative though qualified answer to the question. Not even John 1:1 or 20:28, however, reflect the same ideological content as Nicea's “true God.”Footnote 24 This article introduces reasoning to which Brown will repeatedly return in later discussions of the “what about Jesus's earthly life and ministry” embedded as it was in the religious traditions of first-century Galilee and Judea? Explicit formulations of such later claims would not communicate anything but blasphemy. It was conceivable, however, that in Jesus's deeds (miracles) and words Jesus presented himself as “one in whose life God is active.” So the radical binary of early-twentieth-century Protestant liberalism (and its heirs) that would locate all Christology in a post-resurrection church influenced by Hellenistic ideas about gods and their quasi-human appearances is false. There is a bridge between the risen Savior at God's right hand and the mission and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth.Footnote 25
An article published the previous year on the post-Bultmannians treated this question theoretically rather than exegetically. Published in the Catholic Biblical Quarterly, it was partly intended to coax Catholic scholars out of a defensive posture into engaging with the exegetical work including what was being labeled the “new quest for the historical Jesus.”Footnote 26 Catholics have not paid sufficient attention to the “sort of faith in Jesus” that was possible during Jesus's public ministry.Footnote 27 His confidence in the historical-critical approach as a way beyond the “history” on one side and “post-resurrection kerygma” on the other leads Brown to criticize both the existentialist hermeneutics and the various stripped down Jesus depictions that resulted. And as would be evident in his John commentary, Brown also insists that there is historical evidence to be found in the Fourth Gospel as well as the Synoptics.Footnote 28
In the1960s, Fr. Brown had staked out the territory and ground rules for American Roman Catholic scholars to engage with historical-critical study of the biblical texts alongside Protestant and Jewish colleagues without compromising loyalty to the church. As Fr. Don Senior observed in his intellectual biography of Raymond Brown, he always engaged with issues that were of concern to the church. His approach could be described as ecclesial and incarnational. Incarnational meant that he grounded his approach in the historical, social, and cultural contexts of the biblical authors that make a historical-critical method the foundation of all other approaches, whether theological or the myriad “new methods” sprouting up in the academy.Footnote 29 A curious gap in the list of “Crucial Questions in Johannine Theology” (ecclesiology, sacramentalism, eschatology, wisdom motifs) is Christology itself.Footnote 30 But in a 1967 article on the kerygma of the Gospel of John, Brown takes on Bultmann and his successors for failures to recognize that Jesus remains central to the gospel's ecclesiology, sacramental symbolism, and its overall use of such Old Testament symbols as “vine” or “shepherd.” All Jewish festivals, metaphors, and signs point to Jesus.Footnote 31 So one might reply that there is no “gap” in the commentary because the unity of Jesus and the Father is the perspective from which the evangelist views the entire historical career of Jesus.Footnote 32
To Those Who Teach Catholic Theology: Addressing Christology
Exhausting an audience with the overlong list of a speaker's accomplishments is ordinarily bad practice. Why not begin as the journal editors requested with Fr. Brown's address to the national convention of the College Theology Society on June 1, 1974? As a very young assistant professor with a Harvard PhD in New Testament, an academic specialization in gnosticism and the Fourth Gospel, not only well read in all these scholars but also having assisted Fr. Brown when he taught a two-week summer session at Boston College, I was not quite the audience to whom his remarks are addressed.Footnote 33 Fr. Brown formulates the problem in a concise set of issues that might have surprised many in the audience. Perhaps the suggestion that the “titles” used would only become a question once distinctions between the catalogue come into focus (servant of God, prophet, Lord, Son of Man, Messiah/Christ, Son of God) and are not simply “Jesus equals God” equivalents.
Brown refines the specific nuances of each of those items in the New Testament by mining both the Old Testament as well as other Jewish sources, especially the writings associated with the sectarian Jewish community that composed and collected the Dead Sea Scrolls. Rather than expecting to find equivalents to the “messiah/anointed” (king or priest), “suffering servant messiah,” Son of God, or Son of Man as used for Jesus in the New Testament, by the 1970s scholars recognized that such a goal misreads the evidence. Instead, each involves a more finely tuned description to capture the linguistic and conceptual meanings suggested by each of the contexts in which it is used, much like the multiple headings in a dictionary entry. While this article indicates the existence of that research area associated with the problematic “Son of Man,” Fr. Brown defers details of Christology as “honorific titles encyclopedia” approach.Footnote 34 But however much scholarship may “rock back and forth” on some of the more complex cases, Fr. Brown wishes to leave his audience, “you who are college teachers of religion,” with a positive message that (1) scholarship can firm up the continuity between our New Testament witnesses to Jesus's ministry and what the church later claimed for him; and (2) the gap between a Jewish “meaning” for a title and its later Christian usage does not warrant the radical, liberal claims that Jesus was something other—a wandering charismatic, an egalitarian socialist, an anti-imperialist prophet, and so on. What it means for Christology today is that the reality of God's presence or activity encountered in Jesus does not match the concepts his contemporaries had at hand. The titles have to be redefined as they are used among believing communities. Or as Fr. Brown proposes, “The ultimate tribute to what and who Jesus was may have been that every term or title in the theological language of his people had to be reshaped by his followers to do justice to him, including the title ‘God’ itself.”Footnote 35
Anyone familiar with Raymond Brown's massive scholarly tomes knows that “classification in multiple columns” is the foundation for analysis. In very short order in his article, the table entitled “Twentieth-Century Views on the Christology of the New Testament” makes its appearance. What follows is Fr. Brown's classification scheme for the misguided non-scholarly views as well as a typology of scholarship from the beginning of the twentieth century with the early Protestant liberalism's “Jesus, without Christology/the Lord” at the beginning of the century through a “Jesus” behind the earliest preaching (perhaps an equivalent effect when Jesus preaching the Kingdom of God is compared with the church's Jesus as Lord) in mid-century to what Brown describes as “scholarly Conservatism” in the 1960s and 1970s. And while Brown occasionally will suggest “Catholics” for one or another column, the named players are all Protestants. Though I do not remember being overly surprised at the time given Brown's earlier article on the Bultmannians.Footnote 36 But revisiting it fifty years on, the taxonomy seems as dated as the illustrations in the cell biology I studied in college compared with slides of “molecules and cells” required of biology majors today.
At the time, I did not appreciate the relentless personal attacks from the non-scholarly or pseudo-scholarly conservatives within the Catholic Church that Fr. Brown endured, so those “framework” columns of non-scholarly liberals and conservatives seemed extraneous.Footnote 37 Opening with “non-scholarly Conservatives” because Fr. Brown sees Catholics as the problem while suggesting there is likely a Protestant version with its own tonality,Footnote 38 he illustrates the effectiveness of his insistence on attention to the details of the gospels themselves. No one can deny the divergences between them in presenting Jesus or evade the clear evidence of Christological development.Footnote 39 By pairing the non-scholarly conservatives with the equally “fundamentalist” turn to liberalism, Fr. Brown indicates why it is important to keep a theological perspective. Whether in early-twentieth-century Protestant liberalism or in various modern forms of Christianity as “love,” self-fulfillment, or religion as private “spiritual practice,” what individuals actually believe about Jesus is indifferent.Footnote 40 Just as he opened the address by reminding his audience that alone among the three Abrahamic faiths only Christians adopted a self-designation that reflects the designation of their founder, so Brown rejects any scholarly version of Christianity that dispenses with Christology as losing its core: what God has done for humanity in Christ—no humanist program of what humans do for themselves.Footnote 41 Even at the time it was published, a focal point that assigns Bultmann his own column seems rather odd for a Catholic audience that did not have a stake in Bultmann's existentialist hermeneutic.
Its primary attractiveness for Brown's larger project of bridging the divide between a “Jesus of history” behind the gospels and the Christ of the church's preaching represented in the gospels is by suggesting a principle of “equivalent effect” in that decision that confronts every believer. That will not be, however, adequate bridging for Brown's larger understanding of the theological project. Buried in the footnotes of this article, he takes on another of the ongoing flash points between the varied historical-critical approaches to the diversity and developments in New Testament Christology, Jesus's consciousness and self-expression to others about his relationship to God. A hermeneutical given in modern Christology situates Jesus squarely in the concrete human society of the first century and that revives an older scholastic debate over whether the incarnate Son participated in the “beatific vision.”Footnote 42 Though the explicit participation in divine knowledge would undercut Jesus's participation in our human condition (contrary to Luke 2:52), there is no reason to exclude the possibility of an intuitive knowledge of that special relationship to God.Footnote 43
Filling in the Landscape
Just as the address on Christology republished in this issue represented more than a decade of writing and reflection, it only marks a stopping point in a journey in progress. To some degree even a look backward over ground covered is a bit of an encouragement to other hikers to join Fr. Brown and other biblical scholars both Catholic and Protestant in a historical-critical work in progress. It was not a manifesto highlighting the need to pull up stakes and transition away from established patterns of investigation, scholarly argument, and social networks.
We can further appreciate some of the approaches that Fr. Brown has begun mapping out by looking at a few of his later articles as well as the guide that his audience for the address two decades earlier must have hoped for, an introduction to Christology as we find it in the New Testament.Footnote 44 Concluding that book with his evaluation of Edward Schillebeeckx's massive effort to recast a systematic theologian's answer to the question of/about Jesus by integrating results of historical-critical scholarship, Brown returns to his dissatisfaction with an unbridged dichotomy between Jesus in whom God is making the kingdom present on the one side and Christ representing second-order statements about Jesus's identity on the other.Footnote 45 Brown challenges the contrast between a theological program inaugurated by Jesus and Christology or an earlier distinction from the chart in his lecture between an “implicit” Christology in the Jesus of the Synoptic Gospels to be contrasted with subsequent forms of “explicit” Christology by returning to the bridging strategy of no kerygma without continuity. He insists that there must have been indications already in Jesus's lifetime that recognized there was more to Jesus than a “God acting through” an individual. However conveyed, there must have been recognition that God is present in Jesus.Footnote 46
How might that recognition be conveyed in gospel narratives cognizant of the full story? The Jesus/kerygma gap that Fr. Brown seeks to bridge provides a convenient solution by either opting for a principled “impossible” to know about Jesus's own consciousness or that of his followers. Evidently, the crucifixion was a major roadblock in expectations that Mark's narrative somewhat awkwardly accounts for in that exchange with Peter by eliciting a top secret classification order from Jesus himself (Mark 8:30), followed up by a peculiar narrative sequence in which Jesus's predictions of his passion and later sufferings of his followers are resisted by Peter (Mark 8:31–9:1), and then followed by a transfiguration in which Peter, James, and John hear the divine voice proclaim that Jesus whom Peter addresses as “Rabbi” to be God's “beloved Son” (Mark 9:2-8). But the disciples are told as they descend not to tell anyone what they had seen “until the Son of Man” has been raised from the dead (Mark 9:9). The evangelist cannot tell the story without its full Christological panoply of titles or a Jesus for whom the cross is a shocking turn of events, so he threaded into the account what scholars often refer to as “the messianic secret.”Footnote 47
Fr. Brown pokes at that issue with several historical questions. Was the unanimous tradition in both the Synoptics and the Gospel of John that Jesus predicted such events as the fall of Jerusalem or destruction of its Temple; his own passion; or what is admittedly more of a stretch, that he would be vindicated by God using such apocalyptic images as resurrection, the Danielic Son of Man exalted with God?Footnote 48 On the “messiah” question, Brown concludes that the most likely historical account has Jesus accept the “messiah” epithet with qualifications or ambivalence given the fluidity of such language and expectations in his Jewish context. It is even more certain historically that followers during his lifetime attached messianic expectations to him. For Jesus himself, not only does he neither affirm nor deny, “partly because he had his own conception of what he must do and partly because he left the ultimate manifestation of his own role in God's hands.”Footnote 49
The more critical designation, however, “Son of God,” that is the core of Christian faith in Jesus from the outset as its attestation in Paul's letters echoing affirmations that were widely shared among believers (for example, 1 Thess 1:10; Gal 1:16; Rom 1:3-4) is less easily parsed. Careful analysis of Jewish sources fails to produce strong evidence for its use of the Davidic royal messiah figure.Footnote 50 To build a bridge for general readers in his Introduction, Brown adapts the opening provided by the tradition(s) that Jesus—and early non-Jewish Christians themselves in connection with their own self-identity as “sons” (Gal 4:6)—was known to address God as “Abba” (Father).Footnote 51 What may have been particular to Jesus was adapting that mode of addressing God to the new relationship of those who followed him and God, so that in expressing his relationship to the Father as “sonship” gave it a special character without “Son of God” as a self-designation.Footnote 52 If Jesus never made such an explicit claim for himself, as appears to be the case, then it cannot be the basis for a “blasphemy” charge against him by Jewish authorities.Footnote 53
Though the evangelists have presented the Jewish trial of Jesus using a framework of the familiar Christological titles, they do not necessarily reflect the only option for the charge(s) against him. Instead, Brown proposes a catalogue of plausible historical items drawn from the gospel accounts. They include styles of speaking about God, about the immanence of God's kingdom, and even failure to validate such behaviors with appeal to established Old Testament paradigms such as a prophet. Couple that posture with the content of Jesus's address to the people that resulted in clashes with local religious authorities and traditions over forgiveness of sin, ingrained customs of Torah observance, and the “extras” of purity or ritual piety and the options for charges increase. It is even probable that as a layman Jesus had spoken against the Temple, possibly suggesting its demise.Footnote 54 Any significant combination from the catalogue of possibilities would be sufficient for that charge: “i.e., arrogantly claiming prerogatives or status more properly associated with God, even as the Gospels report.”Footnote 55
Two decades after his address to the College Theology Society, Fr. Brown could look back on a slow, sometimes painful but clearly accomplished process of bringing Catholic scholarship to the fore in international scholarly circles, in ecumenical conversations, in the academy, and in parishes.Footnote 56 No reason was necessary for some of the “special pleading” evident in those articles from the 1960s and 1970s. But assorted variants of the Jesus–kerygma gap remained on offer.Footnote 57 And with it a new crop of exegetes whose rewriting of Jesus into a “real history” of early Christianity dispenses with the authority of the canon itself by (1) reconstructing alleged “pre-canonical sources” whose message has been distorted by their transformation into the canonical texts (G. Theissen, W. Kelber, L. Schottroff, H. D. Betz, E. Schüssler-Fiorenza) or (2) declaring non-canonical apocryphal gospels (such as Gospel of Thomas, Gospel of Peter, Secret Gospel of Mark) representative of true, earlier forms of Christianity (H. Koester, J. D. Crossan).Footnote 58 We cannot rehearse the intricacies of that debate with the assorted claims about Christology, religious experience, and church structure that are built into these variants. But it demonstrates another aspect to Fr. Brown's theological commitment that we have discerned in our exploration of the Christology material: the Scripture received as canon conveys the word of God.Footnote 59
Moving Forward
Raymond Brown's conservative liberalism spotlighted some ignored dust and missing floorboards in historical-critical edifices as well as poor foundations for theological assertions. When biblical scholars do all the heavy lifting of sweeping out prior conclusions about biblical language, its social and cultural contexts, and the meanings conveyed to users and listeners, they should not claim to have provided all the theology that twenty-first-century transmission of our Catholic faith requires. Some of the theological questions that surface when exegesis shakes the assumed biblical foundations require dialogue between exegetes and theologians.Footnote 60 How to frame the relationship between historical-critical accounts of Jesus and Christology remains very much on the docket for exegetes and theologians today.Footnote 61 The revived “Third Quest” of the historical Jesus that originated with the post-Bultmannians has produced such a multiplicity of pictures that a more nuanced theological conversation is required to understand the development of Christology. Christian faith is not possible without an understanding of the work and fate of Jesus.Footnote 62
Although the Jewish linguistic and religious context for the individual titles might be presented much in the manner of dictionary entries, that research has largely been completed—it is only a matter of adding one's “usage examples” or perhaps reordering the semantic categories. Instead scholars seek to delineate the “grammar” of using such categories.Footnote 63 While that shift from a lexical entry paradigm to grammar paradigm or even to a culture's inherited model stories represents a methodological advance beyond Raymond Brown's work, he anticipated the need to recast the “Jewish” versus “Christian” dichotomy. On the one hand, Brown insisted that even in Paul's letter to the Romans, scholars should not speak of a Gentile or non-Jewish Christianity having exceeded the founding Jewish Christians. Instead, we should consider a spectrum across the early Christian world of at least three variations on what is “Jewish” Christ believing and one Hellenizing variation that did not retain any Jewish customs. Further off the spectrum is a radical break that denigrates Jewish ritual life in Hebrews and John.Footnote 64
Emphasizing the Jewish genome of all Christian sources does not eradicate the tensions in our sources that coupled with a dualist paradigm and contributed to later antisemitism. Brown's account of the Johannine community history sees local Jewish hostility behind the fears expressed in John 9:22 and 16:1-4a.Footnote 65 And, as we have seen, he insists that Jewish authorities were involved in the death of Jesus. Larry Hurtado advocates Christian devotion to Jesus as the foundation of controversies with other Jews opposed to the high Christology expressed in that context.Footnote 66 Looking forward in the twenty-first century, scholars should embrace the challenge of Islam. How might a comparative theology express Christian understanding of Jesus as the kairos of history or definitive revelation of God in an Islamic context?Footnote 67
By focusing on the problematic of how religious experience and religious innovation are correlated, Hurtado's early “high” Christology already evident in Paul's epistles is grounded in experiences. The apostle did not “think out” the Christology in which Jesus is Lord or the more expressive kenosis/exaltation to glory encomium of Phil 2:6-11.Footnote 68 His community prayed it. The cognitive shifting to a “belief system” would not have occurred otherwise.Footnote 69 Hurtado suggests that comparison with Muhammed might illuminate how Paul comes to formulate such a radical picture of Christ. Both had experiences so at odds with the conventional religious system that they could not be accommodated.Footnote 70 Though forms of Jewish opposition to local Jesus believers probably varied from place to place, the persecution for Christ that Paul suffers and anticipates would be experienced by others is directly associated with the divine-like status of Christ.Footnote 71
An acerbic dust-up in Expository Times between Fr. Gerald O'Collins and Paul Holloway over the latter's novel interpretation of Phil 2:6-11 as a reflection of Jewish angelology illustrates how assuming that theological commitment is simply ideology knocks discussion off track.Footnote 72 Charging Fr. O'Collins with an ideological bias that would never consider an interpretation of Phil 2:6-7 that was not an incipient affirmation of Nicea or Chalcedon, Holloway proclaims, “I do indeed disdain the imposition of anachronistic religious biases on an ancient author, no matter how longstanding, cherished, or authoritative those biases may be.”Footnote 73 Rather than consider the possibility that Paul could have more easily responded to his visionary experience of the risen Christ as encountering a “great angel” who had previously appeared in human form than as a God-equivalent, O'Collins charged Holloway with not rehearsing the massive literature from conservative commentators. Adjudicating the exegetical debate is not at issue here, though the more traditional reading still stands especially since both parties agree that Paul wrote Philippians (ca. 61 CE) during his Roman imprisonment. But if one asks the question of how the religious narrative grammar and Paul's experience of divine revelation made sense, angels trump ontology. By the end of his life, however, the apostle has rethought a lot about the “Christ experiences” of the Spirit in believing communities. So it seems plausible that he is reaching for an alternative formulation that edges Christ over to the “God” side from that of angelic creature.
Raymond Brown's work on Christology focuses efforts where both ordinary believers and theologians might begin. How did a first-century Jewish figure Jesus of Nazareth embody what the church came to confess about him as unique, God incarnate, and the savior of humanity? Two centuries of historical-critical study of our gospel accounts of Jesus have dismantled simplistic, harmonizing, or literalistic readings. Each has a well-crafted perspective that expresses the faith of believers some decades after Jesus's death. And during that same period a deluge of new historical information about Jewish beliefs, religious practice, and history had to be assimilated. A similar explosion of material for the religious and social life of inhabitants of the Roman Empire also fueled investigation of what expressions like “Son of God” might have communicated to believers.Footnote 74 The tasks of assimilating masses of new data and probing new analytic frameworks for understanding texts, social contexts, and religious experience have often isolated biblical scholars from theological colleagues, especially as securing a foothold in the academy often means joining departments with other specialties. Fr. Brown's ecclesial and theological focus often led to criticism of Jesus scholarship in search of headlines but may not have anticipated the multi-disciplinary situation in which many members of the College Theology Society will be teaching today's undergraduates.
Concluding Reflections
As a snapshot from 1974, Raymond Brown's address may seem as quaint as getting the latest pop song on vinyl or a tape cassette. Situated within the context of his larger legacy of meticulous historical criticism coupled with an “ecclesial hermeneutic” that was not afraid to ask discomforting questions of both liberal and conservative scholarship and theology, it remains a model for the next half-century. Not everyone is as gifted at bringing critical insights from the “big books” of scholarship into the accessible introduction. Yet without that foundation, assimilation of the word of God in theology, ethics, as well as pastoral tasks of preaching and formation remains based on a fundamentalism about the biblical text. That fundamentalism Fr. Brown repeatedly insists has no place in a Catholic approach to Scripture.
The O'Collins versus Holloway debate might seem just another variant on the liberal versus conservative side of the house. Though Fr. Brown invited his audience to consider his chart an invitation to answer the question “What do YOU say?,” taking sides was never the agenda for a Catholic ecclesial hermeneutic. Where careful historical-critical and linguistic or literary reading of the biblical texts creates a yawning gap even within the Bible itself between later theological understanding and what particular authors might have been able to convey to an audience, exegetes should not simply dismiss theology as ideology. Instead, as Raymond Brown frequently did, they look for possible ways to bridge the divide without caving into a dogmatic fundamentalism. As the contexts within which Catholic teaching and scholarship have expanded beyond institutions and conversation partners securely within ecclesial walls, bridge builders face a more complex and challenging landscape. Providing sketches and snapshots of how biblical exegesis and theological reflection remain necessary to navigate a twenty-first-century terrain should keep Horizons busy for its next half-century.