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Desiring Divinity: Self-Deification in Early Jewish and Christian Mythmaking

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Perhaps no declaration incites more theological and moral outrage than a human's claim to be divine. Those who make this claim in ancient Jewish and Christian mythology are typically represented as the most hubristic and dangerous tyrants. Their horrible punishments are predictable and still serve as morality tales in religious communities today.

But not all self-deifiers are saddled with pride and fated to fall. Some who claimed divinity stated a simple and direct truth. Though reviled on earth, misunderstood, and even killed, they received vindication and rose to the stars. This book tells the stories of six self-deifiers in their historical, social, and ideological contexts.

In the history of interpretation, the initial three figures have been demonized as cosmic the first human Adam, Lucifer (later identified with Satan), and Yaldabaoth in gnostic mythology. By contrast, the final three have served as positive models for deification and divine Jesus in the gospel of John, Simon of Samaria, and Allogenes in the Nag Hammadi library. In the end, the line separating demonization from deification is dangerously thin, drawn as it is by the unsteady hand of human valuation.

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Published July 19, 2024

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M. David Litwa

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75 reviews4 followers
May 8, 2024
Intriguing choice of topic, but the book lacks a strong thesis. This is not a book that might argue for something, anything, but rather an episodic introductory textbook of six Judeo-Christian self-deifiers and the socio-political backgrounds behind their myths, complete with all the dryness and "fact" dumping of academese. This book is not what I expected it to be, yet even viewed in its own light, it does not stand up well.

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I've long been fascinated by the paradox inherent in the psyche of religious messiahs. Whether a cult leader or your neighborhood priest who takes his job a little too seriously, these pious lads and ladies can believe unquestioningly in g/God(s), but believe even more unquestioningly in their sole privilege to communicate with, direct the power of, and even influence the decisions in mortal affairs of their deity. Isn't that quite a narcissistic, blasphemous, if not self-deifying worldview? How they fail to see this, is what intrigues and leads me to this book.

Well, this isn't about that. This isn't a psychology or even philosophy book about mankind's innate desire to become like God, but about a listing of random facts about early Judeo-Christian myths. The only thread that connects these six is their self-deification, but all their other traits - their time period, creators, creators' ideology, and many more - share no obvious or coherent theme. While this book already is less of a "book" than a collection of six standalone chapters, even when viewed independently, the individual chapters still seem ... unsatisfactory to me.

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At times, I can't help but feel that Litwa seems too cautious, too unwilling to "offend." As I've said, this book is about six myths and how these myths came to be, with their formation process supposedly taking the spotlight. In the preface, Litwa boldly claims that "Myths ... are [inherently] political. They are not a disconnected, sacred realm ... Mythmaking is at least partially 'ideal-making,' a process in which ideal types function to reproduce and generate social values." This is an excellent thesis, one that I agree completely with. But it is also one that Litwa does not push forward with his full effort.

To say something is "ideological," is to imply that this "something" is man-made, often made upon mass hysteria, fact-bending, and subjugation and demonization of other groups. To call religious myths outright ideological - well, it is a brave move, especially considering our audience here. Those who read this book are likely Judeo-Christians, or at least interested in Judeo-Christianity, and this fact is probably something Litwa was all too aware of as he wrote this. So, he silences himself.

Reading his chapters, my only thought was "Oh, cool," but I don't feel the least challenged or mind-opened. The "facts" are interesting, sure, but interesting is all they are. For Adam (or the Primal Human), we learn about the varied versions of his story and eventual fall from grace, of which the tree in Eden is only one version. For Lucifer (or Helel), we hear the historical background behind the development of this "Rebel" character, which begins with the Jewish expulsion from Jerusalem by the conquering Nebuchadnezzar, a Babylonian king who thus became the Jewish mythical symbol of "a megalomaniac bent on Yahweh's throne." Allogenes' chapter is essentially an "Intro to Gnostic Thought" crash course. Oh, cool.

Using only the most cautious prose, picking only the most widely-agreed theories, Litwa fails to present any findings that might surprise even me, an ignorant agnostic who knows nothing about early Judeo-Christian myths and their socio-political elements. Of course, I hereby contradict myself: If I know nothing about said myths, how do I know that Litwa picks only the most widely-agreed information? Well, I don't. But because I'm a bigot and a hypocrite, I will assume I do, and will repeat myself in a true dogmatic fashion:

The facts listed here just seem too "obvious," too uncontroversial. It's to the point where I seem to learn more about early Judeo-Christian myths themselves, than their ideological components and social implications. Carefully, perhaps too carefully, Litwa scrutinizes his every letter to remove any "opinion" that might leak through. What remains are the mere "facts," with just the slightest hints remaining of his original, strong thesis on the inevitable fusion of religion and politics.

All, except for one chapter.

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Jesus Christ is, whether one likes it or not, the most "important" of all six self-deifiers in this book. Interestingly, his chapter is arguably the most poorly written. Not only is it more detached from the book than the other chapters, but it even lacks what the other chapters possess - a point of its own.

For the entire chapter, all Litwa does is recount certain scenes from the Book of John, his only contribution being to pepper his words with subtle "hints" that Johannine Jesus is a cunning, anti-semitic, and logic-straining narcissist, who consciously or unconsciously seeks to silence and displace Yahweh, all under the guise of executing his will. What annoys me isn't this "argument" itself, but how Litwa never names it directly and then supports it with evidence (like an academic should), instead throwing in digs and gibes that are supposed to be "picked up" by readers.
Jesus’s opponents are not allowed to articulate this charge; the narrator makes it for them. Indeed, the silence of the Jews in this chapter is striking. What we call “the Jewish charge,” then, must be understood as the charge that John makes the Jews present. It is effectively a rhetorical setup. Jesus uses the charge as a springboard to expatiate on his uniquely divine powers. The Jews are never afforded a chance to state their charge or respond when accusations are hurled against them.

Jesus never denies that he is equal to God, but tries various rhetorical strategies to legitimate his equality in light of Jewish traditions. His argument is somewhat circuitous, but it boils down to the idea that he is not a rebel but a son ... After asserting such bold claims, Jesus draws a potentially idolatrous conclusion. He has been given Yahweh’s unique prerogatives for a reason: so that all people might honor (timōsi) him just as (kathōs) they honor Yahweh. “Honor” here designates worship given to a deity. Bestowing divine honors on a human in the ancient world was a mode of worship. In effect, Jesus claims that he should be worshiped as Yahweh—or at least anticipates being worshiped in a way equal to the Jewish god. He has the audacity to say this in Yahweh’s very house of worship.

As he makes his argument, Jesus repeatedly turns (as is customary in juridical polemics) to attack his opponents. But he attacks the Jews in a particularly vitriolic way, needling the nerve centers of their identity ... In the face of opposition, Jesus does not tone down his claims; he intensifies them. In fact, his sense of his own importance seems to spiral out of control. Jesus claims that his voice will be the trumpet blast initiating the final resurrection, and that he will be the final judge of the dead ... The more we understand Johannine theology, the more we intuit that Jesus’s word and God’s word are not really different at all ... Jesus says that if the Jews knew him, they would have known Yahweh. The reader is led to conclude that the identities of sender and envoy have somehow merged.

The paradox unique to Christian mythology, the quasi-power struggle between Yahweh and Jesus, should be obvious to most meta-readers who have reflected on the divide between Judaism and Christianity. Litwa offers no new insight on this worthy topic. He does not explore the mentality of John as he wrote his Gospel; or the causes of Christianity's (and frankly, most emerging ideologies') tendency to demonize their predecessors; or the implications of such a tendency for us in the current time.

When Litwa speaks of other mythical characters in this work, he treats them as such - mythical characters who have no voice of their own and whose every thought is a peculiar reflection of their creator(s). If they are flawed, it is because the writers who penned them are flawed. Throughout the book, Litwa is careful, making it clear from the outset that he is approaching these characters as literary figures; he scrutinizes and analyzes their stories as an English professor would any classic laid before him. But this is not the case with Jesus.

Litwa singles out Johannine Jesus - who is no less a hapless victim than the Jews in the Book of John, who can't defend himself against hostility from outside his paper universe - and bashes Jesus as though it's he, instead of the author(s) and widespread social sentiment behind him, that is the root of all problems.

In an almost overtly academic and "objective" book, the chapter on Jesus is the most "opinionated" of all; however, by spotlighting Jesus and attacking him far harsher than the others, Litwa arguably only furthers the special attention traditionally given to Christianity.

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Fortunately, what Litwa lacks throughout the book - a strong "stance" - he makes up for in the Conclusion. This is without a doubt the chapter I find to have the most insight and character, with many quotable gems:

These sociopolitical functions of self-deification myths indicate that they have not outlived their use. Even today, most westerners are culturally familiar with the rebel pattern of self-deification. This pattern has allowed self-deification to become a metaphor of the self-serving display of one’s own honors. This form of self-deification is still widely viewed as an ugly practice, chiefly of athletes and politicians—though occasionally of academics ... Fortunately, the need for reelection humbles the pride of politicians, and athletes are laid low by swift-running old age. As for academics, the arduous process of finding employment, fielding criticism, and attaining tenure drains the pomp out of nearly every circumstance.

There is no form of self-deification that is morally and politically “safe.” The desire for transcendence (even with divine aid) is always dangerous to society because it involves one person or group claiming a (radically) higher status than another. Theism (and monotheism in particular) means that hierarchy is built into the cosmos, and thus willed by God (who has the most to lose from the “coup” of secularization). Rigid hierarchies justified by theistic ontology invite self-deifying rebellion on the part of the dominated who have not benefited from the rule of a single, all-powerful (need one say male) God.

If self-deification is a radical form of self-preservation, then the desire for deity is a common, if repressed, human aspiration. It is part of advanced human cognition, perhaps, for people to exaggerate their own importance or significance in the interests of building and dwelling in a stable symbolic universe that benefits them. Humans will to be told that they are necessary, loved, and destined for an eternal, meaningful existence. Constructing this ultimate significance does, in a sense, make humanity long-lived, or at least increases the chances for the human race to survive ...

If only Litwa had expanded this Conclusion into his book instead.

Still, I did learn a lot from reading this, especially the variations in early Judeo-Christian myths. Even as I write this review, I wonder if my complaints aren't too petty toward a scholarly work, and if I shouldn't up this book to 4 stars. But while I do not regret reading this, I definitely didn't enjoy or look forward to it either.

In the end, reading should be about enjoyment. I stand firmly that any book, including those about the most "boring" or "trivial" subjects, can and should be made enjoyable. Such is the burden that writers must always bear. So, 3 stars it is.
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