steveb
08-01-2006, 03:29 AM
It has recently been claimed on this forum that the book When Jesus Became God by Richard E. Rubenstein is a reliable and unbiased account of the Christological controversies that led up to the Council of Nicea in A.D. 325. The book is, however, neither reliable nor unbiased. Here are some excerpts from a review by a historian (Tim Vivian) published in the Anglican Theological Review in 2001:<blockquote><font color="0000ff">Rubenstein is a good storyteller-and what a story he has to tell! Intrigues, plots, banishments, riots, murders. The Arian crisis, both for its longevity and its melodrama, puts modern-day soap operas to shame. But good storytelling is not enough to make good history. Rubenstein's footnoting of sources is, for a popular work, generally good, but when it is spotty it raises serious concerns. When at the beginning of the crisis Bishop Alexander of Alexandria summoned Arius to the episcopal residence, Arius, Rubenstein says, "stood like a gaunt shadow before Alexander" (p. 56). Rubenstein cites no source for this striking image-and then immediately admits, "No record of this interview remains, but we can easily imagine. . . ."
If a novelist were to write about Arius's gaunt shadow, readers could applaud his or her imagination. But When Jesus Became God is not a novel. When genres get confused, not only do we not know when to applaud, we aren't even sure what it is we are-or aren't-applauding. Uncertainty then merges into doubt which, ironically, becomes the willing suspension of belief. For example, Rubenstein later says that a Church council was held in 318 to address Arius's statements and that "the anti-Arians drew up a creed-a Confession of Orthodoxy-which was laid before Arius and his supporters with a demand that they sign it" (p. 57). The author doesn't footnote this event, so the question naturally arises: Has this scene, like Arius' gaunt shadow, been "easily imagined"?
This may seem like carping from historians (like the present reviewer) who want to stake out their territory, post "TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT" signs, and set the hounds lose on any non-historians like Rubenstein who dare to invade the sacred groves of academe. But serious problems can arise when non-historians write popular history. The problematic historiography outlined above becomes a prelude to more serious historical and theological problems. An expert in conflict resolution, Rubenstein has a (mostly unstated) desire, admirable in itself, to see reconciliation between Jews and Christians. This is much easier to bring about if Jesus is, well, Arian. If the "real Christians"-the disciples and first evangelists-saw Jesus as a great rabbi but not as God, then rapprochement between Christians and Jews becomes infinitely easier. Rubenstein believes that Christians who accepted the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed of a "triune God, distributed over three persons, no longer shared Jehovah with their Jewish forebears" (p. 209). "This is the point," he says, "at which Christianity breaks decisively with its parent faith and with other forms of monotheism" (p. 210).</font></blockquote>[Review continued in posting below...]
If a novelist were to write about Arius's gaunt shadow, readers could applaud his or her imagination. But When Jesus Became God is not a novel. When genres get confused, not only do we not know when to applaud, we aren't even sure what it is we are-or aren't-applauding. Uncertainty then merges into doubt which, ironically, becomes the willing suspension of belief. For example, Rubenstein later says that a Church council was held in 318 to address Arius's statements and that "the anti-Arians drew up a creed-a Confession of Orthodoxy-which was laid before Arius and his supporters with a demand that they sign it" (p. 57). The author doesn't footnote this event, so the question naturally arises: Has this scene, like Arius' gaunt shadow, been "easily imagined"?
This may seem like carping from historians (like the present reviewer) who want to stake out their territory, post "TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT" signs, and set the hounds lose on any non-historians like Rubenstein who dare to invade the sacred groves of academe. But serious problems can arise when non-historians write popular history. The problematic historiography outlined above becomes a prelude to more serious historical and theological problems. An expert in conflict resolution, Rubenstein has a (mostly unstated) desire, admirable in itself, to see reconciliation between Jews and Christians. This is much easier to bring about if Jesus is, well, Arian. If the "real Christians"-the disciples and first evangelists-saw Jesus as a great rabbi but not as God, then rapprochement between Christians and Jews becomes infinitely easier. Rubenstein believes that Christians who accepted the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed of a "triune God, distributed over three persons, no longer shared Jehovah with their Jewish forebears" (p. 209). "This is the point," he says, "at which Christianity breaks decisively with its parent faith and with other forms of monotheism" (p. 210).</font></blockquote>[Review continued in posting below...]