A Pluralist Missiology

A Pluralist Missiology for Contemporary Churches in Indonesia*

by Ioanes Rakhmat

I start with a quotation from Paul F. Knitter’s Foreword of the book he has edited:[1] “We mean by pluralists those who do not regard their own religion as the one and only ‘true’ faith and way of ‘salvation’, uniquely superior to all others.” The “pluralist model” which Knitter consistently defends is also the model I adopt for understanding and responding to the reality of religious diversity. I completely agree with Knitter’s strongly pluralist position. I think this model will be the only plausible model for the world’s religious future. I also think that Knitter is on the right track when saying that “all the religions possess the resources within their own traditions to adopt the pluralist model”. Everyone, I expect, would also agree with Knitter’s statement that “pluralism does not imply relativism.”

Because I am in full agreement with most of Knitter’s pluralist thought, in what follows is not a criticism of Knitter’s thought, but an initial attempt to apply pluralist religious thought to the missiology of the Indonesian religious communities. I define missiology as a theory or a doctrine of how and what to act responsibly as a religious believer in this world in order to influence and change the world so that it can become a good place for every creature to live in now. Missiology is thus connected with ethics. I shall present ten perspectives on the basis of which we can construct a missiology from a pluralist viewpoint for religious communities in the pluralistic context of the present-day Indonesia.

1) The starting point: “From below” instead of “from above”
A pluralist missiology for the present-day religious communities must start not “from above”, that is, not from any absolute doctrine about God living “above” in heaven, which is accepted generally by a religious community to be applied to human life here below in this world. It must also begin not with a doctrine about the Word of God or the Scriptures which should in a normative way govern and control over the life of a religious community and the world. Neither should it commence with authoritative religious traditions passed on from one generation to the other. This deductive approach of using an old doctrine about God, Scriptures and traditions should be replaced by the inductive one. The former approach hinders any attempt of contextualizing theology; with this approach being used, what we can find is only a “diffusion”, not a contextualization, of an old theological idea.[2] With this approach, the form of a theological message can change (for example, by using different languages), but its content is still one and the same.

But, with the inductive approach being employed, a theological reflection starts “from below”, that is, from the real and factual daily life in which the poor of this world could easily be victimized and exploited.[3] This is a missio humanitas that a pluralist missiology should carry out. A pluralist missiology must start “from below”, from a critical deep engagement of a believer in the reality of life lived by the poor and oppressed of this world. This hermeneutical and missiological approach is shared universally by theologians of the Third World known as liberation theologians.[4] In this inductive approach, the present reality of life should be recognized and then analysed critically and socially, employing insights and models derived from social sciences. Congar, cited by Gustavo Gutiérrez, asserts, “Instead of using only revelation and tradition as starting points, as classical theology has generally done, it must start with facts and questions derived from the world and from history”; and Gutiérrez himself contends, “A theology which has as its points of reference only ‘truths’ which have been established once for all… can be only static and, in the long run, sterile.”[5]

The ultimate truth will be found only after a religious community has been involved meaningfully and empathetically in the struggle of the poor and oppressed for liberation and social, economic and ecological justice. A real social context raises social questions and challenges social actions. A dialogue between concepts, meaning and values derived from social engagement and experiences and the Word of God will result in a knowledge of truth. Social action renews theological reflection, and the renewed theological reflection will affect social action; and this hermeneutical process will continue once it started. This “hermeneutical circulation” marks every attempt of doing contextual missiology. The knowledge of truth is thus socially, contextually and Scripturally constructed and celebrated. Because of its being bound to a context (that is, because of its contextuality), the truth that is found will be different from that which is previously maintained and petrified.

2) Christology “from below” rather than christology “from above”
Literally and originally, christology is understood as the doctrine about (Jesus) Christ (= Messiah, the Anointed One, God’s Chosen one, God’s Messenger), about who he was/is and what he has done for humanity and the world. This term however (may I suggest?) could also be generally applied to other founders of world religions: who they were/are and what they have done for humanity and the universe. A religious community could imagine and believe in a superior and otherworldly founder of its religion, a religious person of the past believed as having come down from the divine realm above to the world below through incarnation. Or they can imagine this-worldly but superior founders of their religions, founders depicted as powerful conquerors of the world. Or a religious community can imagine the founder of their religion as the only and most enlightened personage of the past. This type of christology is called christology “from above”. Any pluralist missiology can no longer employ such a triumphalistic christology. Instead of employing a christology “from above”, a pluralist missiology must promote a christology “from below”. Christology “from below” means that the founder of a religion is depicted not as a spiritually or politically triumphalistic and superior figure of the past nor as a divine figure who defeats once for all any other founders of religions and whose sacredness exceeds that of others, but as a holy figure of the people, of the poor and the oppressed of this world. Living within the horizon of this “low” christology, a religious community, together with other ones, will involve in the socio-political struggle for the liberation of the poor and the downtrodden. Speaking to Christians, C.S. Song says, “our faith and theology must be Jesus-oriented”,[6] namely, must be the historical Jesus-oriented, the Jesus of the Jewish people-oriented, not the powerful, triumphalistic and divine Christ of Christian Orthodoxy-oriented.

3) Relational uniqueness instead of exclusive uniqueness
The clear logical consequence of adopting christology “from below” is that we can no longer consider the founder of any religion as the one and only unique figure of the past sent by God either to give law, peace and grace to humanity and the world, or to save the whole world and humanity through his pain and agony, or to spiritually enlighten every human being and creature. A pluralist missiology rejects the idea of exclusive uniqueness of the founder of any religion. “Exclusive distinctiveness” means that the founder of “my” religion is the one and only unique figure of the past, none is of the same rank with him/her, so that only this figure can spiritually be meaningful for the salvation and wholeness of human beings. This notion of exclusivity negates any salvific value and meaning of the founders of other religions. A pluralist missiology develops the notion of relational uniqueness[7]: each founder of any religion, in his/her own right, is unique, and his/her uniqueness does not eliminate the uniqueness of others; as a unique figure, he/she needs other unique figures to relate and cooperate for the unveiling of the fullness of God (or the Ultimate Reality) which cannot be grasped completely by any holy figure of the past. Paul Knitter stresses that “All the religious traditions, in varying ways, recognize that the ultimate reality or truth that is the object of their quest or discoveries is beyond the scope of complete human understanding.”[8] The notion of relational uniqueness thus opens the way for an honest and critical on-going dialogue among religious communities. Paul F. Knitter is right when stating that “There will be no real and effective dialogue among the religions if each religion continues to make its claim of superiority!”[9] As the result of inter-religious dialogue, which is called by John B. Cobb as “beyond dialogue”, there will be “a mutual transformation” on the part of religious communities, in doctrines and practices.[10]

4) Pluralism in place of exclusivism
The meaning of “pluralists” has been given above by citing Paul F. Knitter. “Pluralism” is the opposition of exclusivism. Exclusivism is a perspective that considers one’s religion as the only true and valid religion for salvation and the betterment of humanity and the world, completely eliminating other religions as valid and unique ways of salvations. Pluralism, by contrast, is the idea, conviction and way of life, a relational model, that sees all the religions in the world as valid and unique different divine vehicles to bring to humanity divine salvations (in the plural!) ― salvations that comprise many dimensions: spiritual and material, individual and social, anthropological and ecological, liberation and enlightenment, life here-and-now and life hereafter, earth and heaven, history and eternity, scholarship and piety. As has been stated, pluralism is not relativism. In pluralism, the identity and the distinctiveness of any particular holy figure are affirmed. Without particularity and singularity, there will be no plurality and diversity, and the other way round. Religious groups that do not wish to accept pluralism, have failed to see and understand sociological realities which very clearly have shown that the world of man is plural, multicultural, heterogeneous, not singular, monolithic and homogeneous. Pluralism is the basic concept, notion and way of life of a pluralist missiology which will lead religious communities to maturity and wholeness both in their interrelationship and in their impact on the life of human beings the world over.

5) The empowerment of the people as opposed to proselytization
A pluralist missiology rejects religious proselytization as the target of missionary enterprise of each religious community. Witnessing with confidence to what one believes and the practice of proselytizing are two different things. “Non-believers”, and the poor and the downtrodden as “non-persons”,[11] are to be seen not as human beings to be converted to a new religion. Non-believers, namely, people of other faiths and agnostics, are to be seen as partners in dialogue, not as the objects of proselytization. To be honest, we should say that the poor and the oppressed, under certain circumstances, can easily be converted because of their poor and inhuman condition of life. However, everyone who wishes to take part in the missionary undertaking based on a pluralist point of view must not try programmatically to convert the poor and the oppressed. Instead, they must be seen as human beings trusted by God to the hands of the believers to be empowered, so that they can in due course have self-confidence to build and design their own future and to change their own past. Believers are to be prepared to anticipate to see signs of the presence of God among the poor and the downtrodden, something that could happen even before their own arrival in the midst of them.

6) The growth of life quality rather than the quantity development
Because in the missiology constructed on pluralism proselytization is no longer the aim of any interreligious encounter, the quantity development is not the prime target of any missiological activity. Internal and external religious activities of any religious community then must lead not to a quantity development, but to the growth of life quality of its members. If life quality grows and develops on the part of the believers, they then will be able to see people of other faiths not as the targets of their proselytizing propaganda, but as fellow-believers who have the basic rights to live according to their own conviction and without interference and annoyance from people of different persuasion trying to convert them. If a religious community increases quantitatively, this increase is only the by-product of the growth of life quality on the part of the community’s members.

7) “Civil society” politics instead of “partisan” politics
According to the missiology based on pluralism, the area where religious communities meet socially is the civil society of a nation in which they live. In a civil society, they together will promote justice and civil rights for all and will struggle for the betterment of human life and the liberation of the poor from their inhuman and degrading captivity. If religious communities should involve in politics, the politics they should adopt is therefore civil society politics, as opposed to partisan politics by which they promote only their own interest and struggle only for their own life and future disregarding any other religious community. The religious community’s call to be critical of any worldly power and nationalism are thus to be placed in a dialectical and critical relationship.[12]

8) Orthopraxis in place of orthodoxy
Pluralism as an idea, a concept and a way of life has questioned many tenets of religious orthodoxy, for example the orthodox claim that there is only one true religion in the world, that there is only one unique God’s messenger sent to the world. It is true that many religious believers would wish to lay down their own life in order to defend, guard and protect the orthodoxy of their own religions. For religious warriors, orthodoxy matters. For pluralists, however, there are many names, many God’s messengers, many sons of God, many enlightened holy figures, through all of whom God spoke to the world and wishes to save humanity and the whole world. New horizons in christology (see point 2 above) and soteriology (= the doctrine of salvation) contended by pluralists have been made possible to emerge only after they involve in the real life of human beings of other faiths. For them, social engagement is the first step in doing theology or missiology, the first step to be trodden if one wants to eventually find truth. A social engagement will give birth to a new understanding of old doctrines or renew or even replace them. The renewed understanding leads one to the renewed social action. This circular process of movement from action to reflection, and from reflection to action again, is called praxis. For pluralists, orthopraxis is thus more important than orthodoxy. Robert McAfee Brown states, “There is no true theology without engagement; theology must both issue from engagement and lead to renewed engagement.”[13]

9) Realized eschatology as opposed to apocalyptic eschatology
One of the concerns that stimulate dialogue among people of different faiths is the social one, that is, the social, economic and political problems of the modern world. In dialogues, religious communities are encouraged not only to exchange their religious ideas and put them under scrutiny, but also to motivate them to involve in the struggle to cope with the problems of the modern world. Because the pluralist model treats all the religions and their adherents as equal, their social vision and program are thus to be seen in the same way. Together they must concentrate on efforts to bring the world into harmony with their common religious and ethical ideals which are to be realized here and now. Consequently, the missiology based on a pluralist vision has to encourage its proponents to embrace realized eschatology rather than apocalyptic eschatology. Realized eschatology is concerned with the task of religious communities to bring down heaven to earth now, not in the future, by their scientific knowledge as well as by their social and political efforts. In contrast to this ethical eschatology, apocalyptic eschatology teaches men to inactively wait for God’s intervention in the future to put the present chaotic condition of human life in order.

10) Self-reliance in matters such as theology, human resources and fund
To do a pluralist theology is to do something outside the borders of Orthodoxy; this means, to do something for which an autonomy in matters such as theology, human resources and fund is an essential prerequisite. In the context of the Christian churches, Orthodoxy very often means the domination of old Western theology, Western theologians, and Western fund over those of non-Western origins. That is why to do something outside Orthodoxy means in the first place to achieve this threefold independence. In the context of the churches in Indonesia, this threefold self-reliance has long been the matters for the accomplishment of which the Indonesian churches must struggle very hard again and again.[14] Other religious communities in Indonesia, I think, ought to do the same. The time is now coming to do theology “with a third-eye perspective”, namely, the perspective of Asia, of Indonesia. Choan-Seng Song has said, “Theology in Asia can no longer be a repetition of what we have inherited.”[15] McAfee Brown also says the same thing, “[A] mere repetition of the past will not suffice.”[16] Song even says that the Reformation of the church in the sixteenth century was carried out in accordance with the German spirit, not in accordance with Asian or Indonesian spirit. He states firmly, “Those who are not endowed with German eyes should not be prevented from seeing Christ differently. They must train themselves to see Christ through Chinese eyes, Japanese eyes, Asian eyes, African eyes, Latin American eyes.”[17] In relation to other holy figures of the past (e.g., Moses, Gautama Buddha, the Prophet Muhammad, etc), other religious communities in Indonesia, I think, should do the same thing and should take the same orientation.


* Paper presented on the occasion of Paul F. Knitter’s visit to the Freedom Institute in Jakarta, Indonesia, on May 31, 2006.

[1] Paul F. Knitter, ed., The Myth of Religious Superiority. A Multi-Faith Exploration (Faith Meets Faith Series) (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2004).

[2] On diffusion which is in opposition to contextualization, see Lamin Sanneh, Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture (New York: 1990) 29; referred to by Martha Frederiks, “Congruency, Conflict or Dialogue: Lamin Sanneh on the Relation between Gospel and Culture” in Exchange: Journal of Missiological and Ecumenical Research 24:2 (June 1995) 123-134.

[3] Concerning the hermeneutics “from below”, see, a.o., Robert Mc Afee Brown, Theology in A New Key: Responding to Liberation Theme (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1978) 50-74. Although the socio-political, military and economic situation and condition of our contemporary world (2006) is not exactly the same as those in the Cold War era, this book of Brown, in my judgment, is still and can always be relevant to be referred to in any attempt of doing theology “from below”.

[4] In the book most recently published on Christian missiology, the missiological paradigm that is used and developed is the liberation theology paradigm, together with the liberal model; see Stephen B. Bevans and Roger P. Schroeder, Constants in Context: A Theology of Mission for Today (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2004) 61-72 [35-72] and Part 3.

[5] Gustavo Gutiérrez, A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation. Translated by Sister Caridad Inda and John Eagleson (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2001, 13th print [1973, 1st print]) 9.

[6] Choan-Seng Song, The Believing Heart: An Invitation to Story Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999) 63.

[7] Concerning the notion of relational uniqueness as a comprehensive and promising christological model for an honest dialogue, in contrast to exclusive uniqueness, see Paul F. Knitter, No Other Name? A Critical Survey of Christian Attitudes Toward the World Religions (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 199910 [19851]) 171 ff.; idem, Jesus and the Other Names: Christian Mission and Global Responsibility (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1996) 61-101 (chapters 4-5).

[8] See the “Foreword” of the book edited by Paul F. Knitter, The Myth of Religious Superiority.

[9] Knitter intends this statement to be a complement to the famous dictum of Hans Küng: “There will be no peace among nations without peace among religions; and there will be no peace among religions without greater dialogue among them.” See Küng, Global Responsibility: In Search of a New World Ethics (New York: Crossroad, 1991) xv; and the “Foreword” of the book edited by Paul F. Knitter, The Myth of Religious Superiority.

[10] John B. Cobb Jr., Beyond Dialogue: Toward A Mutual Transformation of Christianity and Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1982) 47 ff.

[11] Concerning “non-believers” and “non-persons”, see Robert McAfee Brown, Theology in A New Key, 62-64.

[12] A number of books on the relationship between religions in Indonesia and the state has been published; one concerning the encounter between Christianity in Indonesia and nationalism is Zakaria J. Ngelow’s book, Kekristenan dan Nasionalisme: Perjumpaan Umat Kristen dengan Pergerakan Nasional Indonesia 1900-1950 (Jakarta: Gunung Mulia, 1994).

[13] McAfee Brown, Theology in A New Key, 70.

[14]On this threefold autonomy the churches in Indonesia have to achieve, see the documents of the CCI (Communion of Churches in Indonesia), Lima Dokumen Keesaan Gereja. Keputusan Sidang Raya XII PGI, Jayapura 21-30 Oktober 1994 (Jakarta: Gunung Mulia, 1996) 85-99.

[15] Choan-Seng Song, The Believing Heart, 57.

[16] McAfee Brown, Theology in A New Key, 48.

[17] Choan-Seng Song, Third-Eye Theology: Theology in Formation in Asian Settings (Guildford and London: Lutterworth Press, 1980) 11.

Jewish Martyrdom

Jewish Martyrdom and the Death of Jesus

by Ioanes Rakhmat

The term “martyrdom” is used for an account of the final suffering and death of a martyr, as the result of the actions of powerful enemies; the account was purportedly written by a contemporary, often an eyewitness, of those events, and it usually included a section consisting of courtroom discourses between magistrates, even the tyrannical ruler, and the martyr in which the latter expressed his or her allegiance solely to the laws of the forefathers.

Jan Willem van Henten has studied in detail the widespread notion and belief of politically patriotic martyrdom and its atoning effect upon the martyr’s land and people, in the biblical and post-biblical eras, according to both Jewish and Greco-Roman traditions. In this study, entitled The Maccabean Martyrs as Saviours of the Jewish People, Van Henten argues that the Jewish tradition concerning such martyrdom, such as that seen in 2 and 4 Maccabees, was developed not only on the basis of the Torah but also on the basis of a Greek philosophical framework. With this dual basis, the authors of 2 and 4 Maccabees portrayed the Maccabean martyrs as Jewish philosophers, and contrasted the philosophy of the martyrs with the Greek philosophy of the tyrannical king.[1]

In the description of the martyrdoms in 2 Maccabees 6:18-7:42, one of the martyrs, the priestly sage Eleazar, presents an impressive explanation of his decision to accept death because of his opposition to the will of the tyrant (6:23-28). In those verses, Eleazar’s decision is termed a logismos asteios or “noble reasoning” (6:23); in 4 Maccabees (1:1; 6:31; 7:4, 16, 21; 13:1; 16:1; 18:1) it is termed eusebēs logismos or “devout reason”, and it is claimed that this reason must govern both the emotions and physical suffering and agony, for, as 4 Maccabees 13:3 states, it is this reason which is praised before God.

The author of 2 Maccabees declares that he is offering a symposion, a pleasant and instructive banquet, for the benefit of others (2:27). This declaration links 2 Maccabees with the so-called deipnon or sumposion literature, of which Plato’s Symposium is the most famous example.[2] 

Indeed, as has been pointed out by Jonathan A. Goldstein and others,[3] in 2 Maccabees 6:18-31, clear parallels are intended between Socrates and the Eleazar of 2 Maccabees; as Goldstein expresses it, “No educated Greek could miss the resemblance of Eleazar to Socrates.” [4]

The two heroes, Socrates and Eleazar, were well advanced in years (respectively, seventy years and ninety years), and they regarded the few remaining years of life as something with which it is easy to part (2 Maccabees 6:18, 23-25; Apology 38c). Because of this, fear of death could not make them surrender their opinions and actions (2 Maccabees 6:22-29; Apology 28b-d). This attitude was consonant with each one’s earlier life, so that any yielding to opposition would have seemed a self-betrayal (2 Maccabees 6:22; Apology 28d-30c, 34b-35b). 

Both, therefore, rejected “easier”alternative in the face of the threatening penalty (2 Maccabees 6:21-28; Apology 36b-38b, and Crito); both held that it is better to go to the underworld in defense of the laws (2 Maccabees 6:23; Crito 54b-d); both maintained that, though one may escape human punishment, one cannot escape divine punishment for injustice and wickedness (2 Maccabees 6:26; Apology 39a-b); and both put their trust in supernatural judges (2 Maccabees 6:26; Apology 41a). The tyrants who controlled their fate were offended by their speeches and condemned both of them to death (2 Maccabees 6:29; Apology 38c), and their deaths were intended as warnings and superlative examples to others, both at that time and in subsequent generations (2 Maccabees 6:31; Phaedo 118).

The Martyrs in 2 Maccabees 6:18-7:42 (cf. 4 Maccabees 5-18)

The focus of 2 Maccabees 7:1-42 is the slaying of seven brothers together with their aged mother on the order of king Antiochus; this was in the context of the king’s efforts to compel Jews to eat pork and foods sacrificed to idols in disregard of prohibitions in the Torah. 

In the courtroom discourses related in 4 Maccabees 8:7-8, the king tried to move the accused to accept his commands by offering rewards and threatening execution: “Trust me, then, and you will have positions of authority in my government if you will renounce the ancestral tradition of your national life. Enjoy your youth by adopting the Greek way of life and by changing your manner of living. But if by disobedience you arise my anger, you will compel me to destroy each and every one of you with dreadful punishments through tortures.” 

According to this text, the response of the brothers was: “But when they had heard the inducements and saw the dreadful devices, not only were they not afraid, but they also opposed the tyrant with their own philosophy, and by their right reasoning nullified his tyranny” (8:15).

These martyrs understood their sufferings as the punishment of their sin against God (2 Maccabees 7:18, 32); but they were also convinced that, after God’s anger had been expressed, God would again be reconciled with them (v. 33). Because of her courage, steadfastness, and hope in the Lord, even while being forced to watch her sons tortured and put to death, all in the course of a single day, the text insists that the mother of these seven sons deserves to be held in glorious memory (v. 20). 

In the text, in verses 9 and 14, the belief is expressed that, for one who dies for the sake of the law, there will be resurrection and eternal life. Thus, when the youngest of the brothers is about to be slain, he insists that his brothers “now have inherited eternal life under the terms of God’s covenant, whereas you shall suffer through the judgment of God the just punishment for your arrogance” (v. 36), and his last words even display the conviction that their martyrdom will put an end to the rightful anger which God has inflicted on all God’s people (v. 38).

The religious and philosophical ideas found in 2 Maccabees 6:18-31 and 7:1-42 were later elaborated in 4 Maccabees 5-18. Noting that only in a few cases does the author of 4 Maccabees deviate from 2 Maccabees, Van Henten concludes that it is likely that that author of the former derived the basic material of chs. 5-18 from the latter; and, Van Henten suggests that the author of 4 Maccabees was inspired to use martyrdom as evidence for his thesis of the autonomy of the logismos (“reason”) by the occurence of this term in 2 Maccabees 6:23; 7:21.[5]

The Historical Context of the Maccabean Martyrs

The historical context of the martyrdoms in 2 Maccabees 6-7 is found in the aftermath of the second invasion of Egypt by the Syrian king, Antiochus IV Epiphanes (2 Maccabees 5:1). Antiochus’ visits to Jerusalem following his military meassures against Egypt (on two occasions in the period of 170-168 BCE), and his drastic actions against the Jews (in the period of 175-164 BCE),[6] have been the hotly debated issues in historians’ research.[7] 

In Goldstein’s judgment, the narratives could reflect not only the events, ideas, and literary patterns of the 160s BCE, but also those of both earlier and later times.[8] The gruesome martyrdoms, as pointed out by Goldstein, could well have occurred during Antiochus’ persecution of the Jews. Antiochus viewed the Jews’ rebellion as a result of their obedience to the Torah.[9]

In the opinion of Van Henten, 2 Maccabees may have been composed around the year 125 or 124 BCE,[10] a time which fits with the data found in 1:9; and Van Henten also opines that the work may have received its present form in Judea (Jerusalem). 

While other scholars, e.g., Sam K. Williams, David Seeley, and Crossan, date 4 Maccabees to the middle of the first century CE,[11] in Van Henten’s judgement it was composed around 100 CE, at least two hundred years after the persecution of the Jews by Antiochus IV which preceeded the successful Maccabean war of liberation.[12] In 2 Maccabees and 4 Maccabees, Van Henten maintains, the issues are Jewish self-definition and identity in both the religious-cultural and the political spheres.

In the analysis of Sam K. Williams, the authors of 2 Maccabees operated, on the one hand, with the theological categories of sin and estrangement on the part of the Jews, and of wrath, discipline and mercy on the part of God (e.g., 2 Maccabees 4:16-17; 5:17-20; 6:12-17; 7:18; 7:32-33). 

On the other hand, those authors intermingled these categories with historical causes rooted in the hellenizing program of Antiochus together with his allies within the Jerusalem priesthood, a program which was uncompromisingly opposed by the righteous Jews who followed Judas Maccabaeus as the central hero. The “speeches” of the dying martyrs, in which they express their defiance, their motivation and their hope, are one of the vehicles which bear the theologizing motifs of 2 Maccabees concerning the reasons for the suffering of innocent Jews.[13] 

Thus, the narrative in 2 Maccabees can best be characterized as apologetic historiography, the focus of which is the significance of the crucial events of the past for contemporary Jewish politics, religion, morality and self-understanding.[14] 

The accounts of 2 Maccabees (3:1-15:39) themselves are referred to by the epitomist (2:23-26) as both history, hē historia (2:32; cf. 2:24, 30), and story, ho logos (15:37-39).

The Common Narrative Pattern

According to Van Henten, the common narrative pattern of a number of “martyr texts” consists of the following elements: 1) in a situation of oppression, the (pagan) civil authorities issue enactments the disobedience of which is punished with the death penalty; 2) the contents of the decrees are so offensive to the Jews because their faithfulness to God, the Law and their Jewish way of life are thereby threatened; 3) when Jews are forced, for instance after their arrest, to decide between complying with the decrees or remaining faithful to their religion and its practices, they choose bravely to die rather than obey; 4) their decision to do so becomes obvious during the courtroom processes in which torture is often used; 5) finally, an extremely cruel execution is described.[15]

Drawing especially on the accounts of 2 Maccabees 6:18-31 and ch. 7, Goldstein describes what transpires in the courtroom as the martyr is interrogated and tortured: 1) the martyr cheerfully accepts terrible pain rather than commit an act of eating pork, something viewed as trivial by the non-Jews; 2) the martyr, the persecutors and tormentors are involved in dialogue in which each maintains the rightness of his or her respective conduct; 3) the torture is vividly described; 4) the martyr demonstrates his or her persistent faith to the death; 5) there is noted both the anger and the admiration of the non-Jews when the torture proves of no avail; 6) the martyr is presented as a model to be imitated by the rest of the faithful.

In 2 Maccabees 6-7 as well as in 4 Maccabees 6:28-29, the effect of martyrdom is stated. Eleazar’s death is understood by himself as a noble example of a beautiful death in defense of the revered and sacred laws, and as a precedent of valor to be remembered not only by the young but by all his fellow Jews (2 Maccabees 6:28, 31). Eleazar’s death is seen as vicarious (i.e., as done on behalf of others) in terms of its benefit as a model or paradigm for others; it has a mimetic function with regard to his contemporaries, the larger body of his nation. Seeley finds the four aspects of Eleazar’s death as being: vicariousness, obedience, the overcoming of physical vulnerability, together with a military nuance.[16] 

In 2 Maccabees 7, the brothers’ deaths are not seen as vicarious or expiatory (= canceling the effects of sin), but simply as instrumental in putting an end to the suffering of God’s people.

Jewish Martyrdom and the Passion of Jesus

In view of the fact that the gospel writings about Jesus’ passion and trials lack most of the narrative pattern which is usually found in the “martyr texts,” equating Jesus with the Maccabean martyrs seems to be inadequately buttressed. 

In his two-volume work The Death of the Messiah, Raymond E. Brown has noted that the gospel passion narratives “are singularly lacking in important features of the Maccabean martyr stories, e.g., gruesome descriptions of the tortures, and defiant speeches calling down punishment on the ruler.”[17] Brown remarks, for example, that “[U]nlike some roughly contemporary Jewish martyrs, Jesus does not cry out in defiance of his persecutors or call God’s vengeance down on them,...”[18] 

Acknowledging “[T]hat Jesus’ seeing himself as martyr-prophet may supply the key to understanding Jesus’ foreknowledge of his fate,”[19] Brown concludes that “I see no way of determining the extent to which his relation to God in heaven moved Jesus beyond foresight to foreknowledge [of a violent death], and it may well be that Jesus himself could not have answered that question. Subtlety does far more justice to the likelihood than a negative vote that Jesus did not make (and perhaps could not have made) any of the predictions attributed to him.”[20] 

Similar to this is De Jonge’s remark that “it is certainly possible or even probable that during his preaching in Galilee and Jerusalem, when his death had become a possibility to be reckoned with very seriously, Jesus, or Jesus’ followers, considered this to be the death of a martyr, but decisive proof cannot be given.”[21] 

After observing that the Jewish martyrdoms related in 2 & 4 Maccabees took place when the martyrs’ religion was being threatened with destruction, David Seeley makes the sharply-worded conclusion that “[I]t is preposterous, in the literal sense of the word, to try to place the historical Jesus in that kind of position.”[22]

But these three scholars (and a number of others) have also argued for the presence of a martyrological coloring in some of the NT materials. 

Seeley is of the opinion that, in three of the earliest strata of the NT (Q 14:26-27; pre-Pauline traditions in Romans 3:24-26 and Philippians 2:6-11; Mark 10:45 and 12:24), there are martyrological motifs which became attached to the interpretation of Jesus’ death which was in keeping with the Greco-Roman viewpoint of the noble death of a philosopher to be imitated by his students. As a result, writes Seeley, “[T]he historical Jesus was someone easily seen as a martyr.”[23] 

And, while Raymond Brown concludes that the gospel passion narratives do not contain “important features” found in the Maccabean martyr-texts, he agrees that the martyr image seems clear and intentional in Luke-Acts, and can be seen, for example, from: the way martyrdom is envisioned in Luke 12:49-53; the repeated Lukan emphasis on Jesus’ innocence, with the implication that he died in God’s cause as the suffering just and holy one (also Acts 7:52; 13:35);[24] the angelic help given to the suffering Jesus and the mockery scene (Luke 22:43-44, 63-65);[25] the clear parallel between the death of Jesus and the death of Stephen related in Acts. 

In this, however, De Jonge warns that “[T]he model of interpretation reflected in these accounts of the Maccabean martyrs elucidates only certain aspects of Jesus’ mission culminating in his death and resurrection. In his solidarity with others, Jesus died for their sins, and not for his own. He was not just a martyr bringing about reconciliation with God and peace for Israel on earth. He appeared as a unique servant of God, God’s final envoy.”[26]

In an article entitled Jesus and Martyrdom, John Downing asserts that “formal characteristics of martyria are all to be found in the passion-narratives,” and concludes that Jesus “finally came to understand his death not only as a martyrdom against his nation, but also for the true faithful Israel whom he had gathered around him...” and that “Jesus was not just a martyr but the martyr.”[27] J. 

C. O’ Neill contends that the Maccabean martyrdom tradition was an important part of the literary background for the gospel “cross sayings” (Matthew 10:38; Luke 14:27; Matthew 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23 in the Codex Vaticanus), for the gospel sayings about those who will not taste death before the coming of the Kingdom (Matthew 16:28; Mark 9:1; Luke 9:27), for the gospel servant sayings (Matthew 20:20-27; Mark 10:35-44; Luke 22:24-27), and for the gospel ransom sayings (Matthew 20:28; Mark 10:45).[28] 

It is worth noting that recently Harry T. Fleddermann has argued that the cross saying of Mark 8:34b (“Let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”) was created by the author of Q and therefore possibly reflects the view of the historical Jesus himself.[29] 

And finally, Van Henten’s study of Maccabean martyrdom is important for pointing to a sacred meal as the ritual context in which the Maccabean martyrs made manifest their resistance to Seleucid rule; this made the meal subversive in character.[30] Obviously, this suggestion of Van Henten may well justify the interpretation of Jesus’ meal, set against the background of the Jewish martyrdom tradition, as a substitute for the rites of sacrifice in the Temple.[31]

Whether one argues for or against a direct literary and theological relationship between the stories of Jewish martyrs and the gospel passion narratives, the Jewish martyrological materials―materials such as those in 2 Maccabees 6-7 and 4 Maccabees 5-18 in which historical facts are embedded in theological and philosophical narratives of an apologetic character―certainly lie in the background of the gospel passion and trial narratives and must be considered when judging the literary and historical character of the passion and trial accounts in the gospels.


Notes

[1] Jan Willem van Henten, The Maccabean Martyrs as Saviours of the Jewish People: A Study of 2 and 4 Maccabees (Leiden: Brill, 1997) 270-294.

[2] Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 22.

[3] Jonathan A. Goldstein, II Maccabees. A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 41A; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1983); Collins, “The Genre”, 5-11; Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 270-294, esp. 272-278, 301; see the literature cited on p. 272 n. 11.

[4] Goldstein, II Maccabees, 285.

[5] Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 70-73.

[6] In F. Millar’s judgment, concerning Antiochus’ drastic measures against the Jews, all that we can be certain of is the dedication of the Temple to Zeus Olympus, the favoured god of Antiochus, and the sacrifices of pigs which were carried out on a pagan altar constructed over the altar of burnt offering. See his “The Background to the Maccabean Revolution. Reflections on Martin Hengel’s ‘Judaism and Hellenism,’” Journal of Jewish Studies 29 (1978) 19 [1-21].

[7] See among others E. Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C. - A.D. 135): A New English Version (rev. and eds. G. Vermes, F. Millar & M. Goodman; 3 vols.; Edinburgh: 1973-1987); F. Millar, “The Background to the Maccabean Revolution”, 1-21; Goldstein, II Maccabees, 84-112 (ch. 5); Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 86-95.

[8] Goldstein, II Maccabees, 291.

[9] Goldstein, II Maccabees, 292.

[10] Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 4, 57 (see pp. 51 ff. for Henten’s discussion on the date and provenance of 2 Maccabees).

[11] Sam K. Williams, Jesus’ Death as Saving Event: The Background and Origin of a Concept (HDR 2; Missoula: Scholar Press, 1975) 202 , dates the composition of 4 Maccabees to “a time antedating the period of Paul’s literary activity by at least a decade.” According to David Seeley, The Noble Death: Graeco-Roman Martyrology and Paul’s Concept of Salvation (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990) 83, it was composed between 20-54 CE. Crossan and Jonathan L. Reed, Excavating Jesus: Beneath the Stones, Behind the Texts (New York: HarperCollins, 2001) 256, dates it to the middle of the first century CE.

[12] Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 4f., 73-82.

[13] Williams, Jesus’ Death as Saving Event, 76-90.

[14] Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 20, 25. Some scholars call it also “tragic history” or “military history” (pp. 21, 21n.14).

[15] Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 8; cf. Goldstein, II Maccabees, 282.

[16] David Seeley, Noble Death, 88-91.

[17] Brown, Death of Messiah, 2.1448.

[18] Brown, Death of Messiah, 1.32, 772, 2. 978, cf. 2. 951 n.36.

[19]Brown, Death of Messiah, 2.1487 n 42.

[20]Brown, Death of Messiah, 2.1489 (emphasis added).

[21] M. de Jonge, God’s Final Envoy: Early Christology and Jesus’ Own View of His Mission (Grand Rapids, Michigan/Cambridge:U.K.: Eerdmans, 1998) 30; cf. Dodd, History and the Gospel (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1938) 83.

[22]David Seeley, “Was Jesus a Philosopher? The Evidence of Martyrological and Wisdom Motifs in Q, Pre-Pauline Traditions, and Mark” in Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers 1989, 548 [540-549]; idem, Noble Death, ch. 5.

[23] Seeley, “Was Jesus a Philosopher?,” 548.

[24] Brown, Death of Messiah, 1.32.

[25] Brown, Death of Messiah, 1. 162, 187ff., 584, 612 n.45, 2.1027 n.102. See also p. 212 (the gospel picture of Jesus’ being given over, besides shaped by the Isaian and Psalmic portrait of the suffering just one, has a martyrological coloring).

[26] De Jonge, “Jesus’ Death for Others and the Death of the Maccabean Martyrs” in T. Baarda, A. Hilhorst, G.P. Luttikhuizen, A.S. van der Woude (eds.), Text and Testimony: Essays on New Testament and Apocryphal Literature in Honour of A.F.J. Klijn (Kampen: Kok, 1988) 151 [142-151] (emphasis original). This article has been republished in De Jonge’s collected essays, Jewish Eschatology, Early Christian Christology and the Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs (Leiden, etc.: Brill, 1991) 125-134.

[27] John Downing, “Jesus and Martyrdom”, Journal of Theological Studies 14.2 (1963) 289, 292, 293 [279-293].

[28] O’ Neill, “Did Jesus Teach that His Death Would be Vicarious?” in William Horbury and Brian McNeill, eds., Suffering and Martyrdom in the New Testament (Studies presented to G. M. Styler by the Cambridge New Testament Seminar; Cambridge, etc.: Cambridge University Press, 1981) 9-27.

[29] Harry T. Fleddermann, “Mark’s Use of Q: The Beelzebul Controversy and the Cross Saying” in Michael Labahn & Andreas Schmidt (eds.), Jesus, Mark and the Teaching of Jesus and Its Earliest Records (JSNTSup. 214; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001) 27-33 [17-33]. See also Peter Balla, “What did Jesus Think about his Approaching Death?” in Labahn and Schmidt, Ibid., 239-258.

[30] Van Henten, Maccabean Martyrs, 122.

[31] For such an interpretation, see Bruce Chilton, A Feast of Meanings. Eucharistic Theologies from Jesus Through Johannine Circles (Leiden, etc.:Brill, 1994) 63ff. (p. 74: “... Jesus’ practice at meals after the [failed] occupation of the Temple [is] an attempt to establish a surrogate for the sacrifice of thanksgiving.”); idem, “Ideological Diets in a Feast of Meanings” in Jesus in Context. Temple, Purity, and Restoration (eds. Bruce Chilton and Craig A. Evans; AGJU 39; Leiden, etc.: 1997) 59-89; idem, The Temple of Jesus. His Sacrificial Program within a Cultural History of Sacrifice (Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992); idem, “Trial of Jesus Reconsidered” in Chilton and Evans, Jesus in Context (republished also under the title “The So-Called Trial before the Sanhedrin” in Forum, New Series 1,1: On the Passion Narratives [Santa Rosa, CA: Polebridge Press, 1998] 163-180) 481-500 (pp. 494f.: “But why did they finally arrest Jesus? The last supper provides the key: something about Jesus’ meals after his occupation of the Temple caused Judas to inform on Jesus”; “In essence, Jesus made his meals into a rival altar”, “an alternative cultus.”)