I had planned a few months ago to read Amy-Jill Levine’s “The Misunderstood Jew” during Advent this year. It’s a book that places Jesus more firmly in his Jewish context, written by a pre-eminent religious studies scholar who herself identifies as Jewish. However, last month, I stumbled upon this book Levine specifically wrote for Advent. Levine is a Professor of New Testament Studies and Jewish Studies at Vanderbilt. I actually stopped by their divinity school just to catch a glimpse of it when I was in Nashville. It’s a beautiful campus. Anyway, Levine attends an Orthodox Jewish Synagogue, yet her views seem very far from orthodox (small-o). For one, she’s really into the so-called ‘New Testament’ – she certainly has a far better grasp of it than I do, even if I identify as a Christian. But I mean, she specializes in it as an academic scholar, so obviously she has a very good grasp of it. Secondly, she reads a lot of the texts with a fairly progressive lens, and is unabashedly a feminist hermeneutician. It was such a treat to see her expand on the original Greek of the Gospel texts, and the Hebrew of the passages quoted from the Tanakh. One really neat example:
“…Christmas reminds me of Hanukkah, another winter festival (at least in the Northern Hemisphere). Hanukkah is the Hebrew word for “dedication,” and it is mentioned in the Gospel of John, where Jesus visits the Temple: “The time came for the Festival of Dedication in Jerusalem. It was winter” (John 10:22).”
I’m not sure how many times I’ve read John’s gospel and I have never known (FOR DECADES), that Hanukkah is mentioned in it. I’ve been really fascinated by the Maccabean Revolt lately and how it has coloured the apocalyptic literature of Daniel. Daniel is of enormous interest to me, because it’s the primary text on which Thomas Muntzer is commentating on in his seminal “Sermon to the Princes”. Muntzer’s sermon is a radical revolutionary text that preceded the great German Peasant Uprising that ultimately got Muntzer executed.
A similar revolutionary fervour is expounded on quite a bit in this text, which is found in Mary’s Magnificat, praising God for pulling down rulers from their thrones, filling the poor with good things and sending the rich away empty. It was neat to read the parallels between the Magnificat and Hannah’s song. One of the most fascinating things I learned in this text was about Judas of Galilee who led a radical tax revolt against the Roman imperial census:
“In the year 6 CE, after the death of Herod the Great and when Jesus would have been a child, Rome proclaimed a local census. At this time, a Galilean known as “Judas the Galilean” (here, as with all the Marys, we have a combined problem of lack of last names coupled with too many people named Judas) began a revolt. We know that Luke knows about Judas because Judas appears in Gamaliel’s speech in Acts 5:37: ‘At the time of the census, Judas the Galilean appeared and got some people to follow him in a revolt. He was killed too, and all his followers scattered far and wide.’”
I went to go revisit that chapter in Acts, and found it amazing that Gamaliel compared Paul and his rabble-rousing comrades to this revolutionary leader who is often identified as the founder of the movement of Zealots and/or Sicarii. There’s a bit more in this that I want to explore because Paul was actually said to be a student of Gamaliel elsewhere in Acts. Gamaliel makes a pretty interesting comment on Paul’s revolutionary agitating, asserting that it was still an open question whether this movement was of divine or human origin, suggesting for people not to hurt Paul in case he is an agent of God. This raises the fascinating distinction Guy Debord made in reference to millenarianism:
“millenarianism, revolutionary class struggle speaking the language of religion for the last time, was already a modern revolutionary tendency, a tendency that lacked only the consciousness that it was a purely historical movement. The millenarians were doomed to defeat because they were unable to recognize their revolution as their own undertaking. The fact that they hesitated to act until they had received some external sign of God’s will was an ideological corollary to the insurgent peasants’ practice of following leaders from outside their own ranks.”
There’s some stuff I still need to unpack here in a future Advent reflection, which is a fascinating question regarding the distinction between human and divine agency in relation to eschatology. I’m especially reminded of that part in Handel’s Messiah where Isaiah 40 is so beautifully sung: "The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness; prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God." Levine actually discusses these verses from Isaiah, saying that they are about returning home from exile, and Luke quotes them citing Jesus as this new way (early Christians were called people of ‘the way’). I personally read this text as a proclamation against Empire, a new exodus from the Babylonian Empire, and how Jews have such a promised future ahead of them with respect to Roman imperial oppression because a Messiah has arrived. It didn’t quite work out that way, but one certainly gets that feeling of what Walter Benjamin calls messianic time: with Egypt, Babylon, and Rome stacking up together to become one monolithic symbol of hegemony.
Moving on, one example of Levine explaining some of the original Hebrew that I particularly liked was in a passage on the Herodian Massacre of the Innocents detailed in the gospels. So, it is well known that the Herodian Massacre is an allusion to Pharaoh’s massacre of infants. Moses is placed by his mother in a little basket and floated down the Nile as a last ditch effort to be protected. Turns out the Hebrew word for that basket is the same word used for Noah’s ark. Why have I never heard this before? My mind is always leaping towards contemporary interpretations, so I can’t help but think about the many people, children especially, who will lose their lives from the multitudinous impacts of climate change, and how the Pharaonic and Herodian massacres parallel this future calamity. Beyond that I also think of a school bus of children being murdered by a Saudi drone strike in a war in which they had explicit support from the Obama administration and were supplied by American weapons manufacturer Lockheed Martin. So too are these acts cold, brutal, and reminiscent of this Advent horror story and the Exodus narrative it draws upon.
One last example that I loved was Levine’s elaboration on the etymology of the name Elizabeth:
“Elizabeth’s name likely derives from the Hebrew Eli, meaning “my God,” the beginning of Jesus’ cry from the cross (“My God, my God”). The second part comes from sheva, which is an oath. Thus, her name indicates that God keeps promises. That means that God remembers. An earlier Elisheba is the wife of Aaron, the first Israelite priest (Exodus 6:23).”
This is such an important name for Advent. Levine emphasizes that it is Elizabeth to whom Mary sang the Magnificat. How fascinating that Elizabeth’s name is a testament to faith. For all the promises of God, in him, are ‘yes’ and ‘amen’ (as the Corinthian epistle goes).
Anyway, this was fantastic Advent reading, and it was a much-needed Jewish perspective on this special spiritual season for me as a Christian – not to mention coming from someone as erudite and knowledgeable as Amy-Jill Levine. It was a treat to read.