I’ve written a fair amount in this space about the idea of honor-based cultures, from the point of view of someone who studies one particular honor culture (that of the Vikings) pretty obsessively.
Considering the way honor cultures operate (never admit wrongdoing; never overlook an insult, etc.), you may have wondered how in the world the Norse were ever converted to the Christian religion, a religion whose absolute foundation involves confession of sin, repentance, and humility—not only before God, but before one’s neighbor—even one’s enemy.
The church (which was a much more intuitive, flexible organization that it’s generally given credit for today) had a strategy for that problem. It wasn’t a question of denying the truth of Christ’s atonement through His humiliation. It was rather a strategy of presenting a different—equally true—side of the doctrine initially. “Milk first, then meat” is the old formula. For the Vikings, the humility of Christ was meat that they had to be introduced to over time.
Initially, the church’s message would not be of Christ, the Suffering Servant, but of Christ, the Conquering King.
This strategy wasn’t invented for the Vikings. It had been employed earlier with the Germans and the Anglo-Saxons. The ancient Saxon poem, “The Dream of the Rood,” presented an image that warriors could digest:
Then I saw the Master of Mankind hasten with all his heart because he wished to climb upon me [the Cross, or Rood]. I did not dare against God’s word bow or break, though I saw earth’s surface tremble. All foemen I might have felled, but I stood fast. The young hero stripped himself—he who was God almighty—strong and stouthearted. He climbed upon the high gallows, valiant, in the sight of many, for he would redeem mankind. I shook when the warrior embraced me, yet I dared not bow to earth, fall to the ground’s surface: I must stand fast. A cross I was raised; I lifted up the Mighty King, Lord of the Heavens; I dared not bend….
Warriors understood very well what it meant to go willingly to death. By emphasizing the courage of Christ in His self-sacrifice, the missionaries presented the Gospel story in a way that their listeners could begin to comprehend. The greatest warriors always die in battle. They fall and lie at their enemies’ feet, as if in submission. Their bodies decompose. What is that but humiliation? And yet they are victorious, celebrated in song, for they did not flee and they did not fail their oaths. In the same way (said the preachers) that which looks like defeat and humiliation in the eyes of our flesh can be true victory, if we turn our backs on our sins and turn our hearts to God, the great King who Himself bowed down to death.
Beautiful
Incredibly smart. While I still believe Christians are wrong(1), you’re obviously a lot better at getting people to believe in God than we Jews are.
(1) As in “factually wrong”, not a moral judgment – the same way Lutherans believe Catholics are wrong and vice versa.
That was the sense in which I took it. Alas that nowadays the distinction usually needs to be spelled out.
This particular distinction always needed to be spelled out. Catholics and Lutherans killed each other, at least partially, because each believed the other was morally wrong to follow a false interpretation of Christianity. The same might have been true for early Christians in Jewish communities.
“Live and let live” in matters of religion had existed prior to Monotheism. But it didn’t get reintroduced until Europe lay exhausted after the 30 years’ war. And even then, it was less an ideal than a acknowledgment of reality.
Well, saying someone is morally wrong, it ought to be noted, is not the same as saying “I think I ought to kill them.” That’s another distinction that tends to get lost nowadays.
True, but the distinction is “some immoral things aren’t worth killing somebody over”. Other than in war, if you believe you ought to kill somebody it implies you think that person is acting immorally.