How Can We Read the Gospel Like a Roman?

  The New Testament tells us that God, in His inscrutable way, chose to become human in a Roman province during what later became known as the 1st Century.  Rome ruled through Jewish sycophants, although Roman military prefects kept an eye on them. It partnered with unpopular locals to collect its taxes, and it got its money whether the locals got their share or not. It held the power of life and death over the Jews. But if Galilee, Samaria and Judea had not been on the road between Rome and Egypt, they wouldn’t have interested the Caesars at all. As it was, they didn’t interest them much.

  Most of the spiritual instruction Jesus gave to the Jews turns out to have been good politics, considering their situation. The meek will inherit the earth (and the un-meek will feel the Roman whip). Don’t lengthen your tassels (especially where Herod might see you). If a Roman soldier orders you, as he legally may, to carry his impedimenta for a mile, carry it two. (At worst, you’ll soften him up, and at best you will impress him). Give Caesar his taxes (but remember he doesn’t own your soul).

 We study and reflect on the sayings of Jesus. But they were said to the oppressed Jews.

 We are the Romans now.

We have military bases in at least 70 other countries, and in most cases, agreements with the government that we will try any of our people accused of crime. When we travel, we speak English – louder if the dopes don’t understand us at first.  Our art rules; our athletes are the greatest, except in soccer and Nordic events. We have the pistol of our rich market in our holster to cow other countries; the current president takes it out and waves it in many of his Tweetstorms.

 As our leader was saying just yesterday, America is “safe, strong, proud, mighty and free,” thanks to its military forces. Proud and mighty are not what we usually think of as gospel virtues, and, for Christians, freedom comes from God, not the Pentagon.

 Which brings up another problem with hearing God’s Word: We live in our democracy. When the president proclaims our pride and might, he is speaking for us. Likewise, when a president tortures prisoners or breaks up families to make a political statement, he does it in our name, and theoretically by our sufferance. If millions of Americans don’t have health insurance, we helped to create the situation. In old Rome, your average Josephus Jonesus had no say in whether and where Rome went to war or in which foreign tribes could be let into Roman territories and which had to be kept out.

 In constitutional theory, we all decide such things in a republican manner. And we can enjoy orgies, as well, just like Josephus Jonesus, who didn’t share our responsibilities for government.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how one applies the Sermon on the Mount in a situation in which we are and have everything the original hearers were not and had not.  Jesus didn't tell his hearers not to torture prisoners; fat chance any of His hearers, apart maybe from Herod, would ever get the chance. He cured, but He did not model how to organize a for-profit health care system.

 I am not coming up with a lot of comforting insights.

No doubt some theologian has addressed this issue or us being so unlike the original audience. Maybe Hans Urs von Balthasar or, more likely, Johann Baptist Metz. But if one did, I missed it in my scattershot reading.

Anybody have any ideas?