On Supposed-Hebrew Culture

The problem with “worldview” is that it is all in the head.  It is an intellectualist assumption that once we tally up all of the ideas that a certain person or group holds to, organizing them according to causal force and foundational significance, the end result will be “system.”  Once this system is identified, we can then explain how certain ideas will invariably lead to one system or another, and from that point on we can make our respective curricula which will effectively teach the worldview we are looking for.

The major weakness here is that such systems rarely ever exist.  Even if they do exist enough to name, they never- ever- *do* anything on their own.  Ideas don’t really have consequences.  People have consequences.  And people typically borrow, bend, compromise, and even work contrary to their ideas and commitments.  Wars, technology, political marriages, dance-trends: these all have as much “impact” on a culture as any particular philosopher.

The same weakness shows up when theologians speak of a Hebrew “culture.”  What they are talking about has never actually existed.  The Hebrews in the Bible were always battling with syncretism, rebellion, idolatry, and generic sin.  Even when taken apart from obvious compromises, “Hebrew” would represent a mixed group of people who travel from Sumeria to Egypt, finally inheriting a land of Canaan which had houses, wells, and cities already waiting for them.  Moses was trained in Egyptian schools and married into a Cushite family.  David spent many years in a Philistine kingdom, and many of his closest soldiers were foreign men.  Solomon was an international and cosmopolitan thinker.  Daniel lived in Babylon, assisting the Emperor, and then moved on to help the Persians.  By the time of the Maccabees, we are told that the Spartans are descendants of Abraham (1 Mac. 12) !

Jesus was not very obviously a critic of Gentile culture.  He often ran afoul of his own Jewish culture, of course.  Acts 6:1 shows that Hellenistic Jews were among the earliest Christian congregations.  Paul is a “Hellenistic Jew” insofar as he writes religious works in Greek, engages in philosophical discourse (at Athens no less!), and builds on the infamous “Logos Christology” (not that such a thing actually exists, but folks make up their lingo and it helps to illustrate the point here).   The continuity between Philo and John’s Gospel, as well as the Epistle to the Hebrews, is also a good indicator of how “Hellenistic” the early Christian Jews were.  And of course, it was not the Hellenistic Jews who fiercely resisted Christianity.  It was the strict Rabbinic “orthodoxy” Jews who were least open.

You can certainly speak of a Hebrew culture.  Sure.  It involved farming, some sea-trade (as we now know, and as the book of Jonah ought to make plain), fairly consistent warfare, the Temple cult, a Near-Eastern cosmology, a Mediterranean commitment to hospitality, song, Near-Eastern poetry, Semetic views of family roles (which are at times different from Indo-European binary families), etc.

What you won’t find, however, is a unique and self-enclosed culture which stands in contrast to all surrounding cultures.  The old theories have all been shown to be false.  Monotheism?  Not really.  Hebrew monotheism was complex, with a multi-personed Yahweh/Angel-of-Yaweh/Ruach-of-Yaweh.  So too, it is widely understood that “Zeus” was capable of being applied to the general “High God” above all others.  Rejection of divine kingship?  No.  “Son of God” is a term for “king” as Psalm 2 shows.  Moses is considered to be half-divine by many of the rabbis (he turned into an angel atop Mt. Sinai, after all).  Rejection of human sacrifice?  Again, no.  There are several instances of human sacrifice in the Old Testament, and the heart of the Levitical cult was that of representative human sacrifice (Ex. 22:29-30).  One could go on and on.

C S Lewis’ Abolition of Man shows the common morality that exists among world cultures and world religions.  Cyrus Gordon shows the mythic and literary commonality.  John Pairman Brown shows the political commonality.  Again, one could go on.

A good Protestant, or even a “Reformed Catholic,” has to be a seeker of truth.  Philip Schaff taught us this much.  The “Protestant Principle” asks the question, “Yes, but is that actually the case?”

And so must we still.