Whoever claimed that the Hebrew Scriptures were without internal conflicts never truly read the Hebrew Scriptures.

For thousands of years, the Hebrew people knew quite well that their Scriptures were full of competing narratives.  It wasn’t just that Ruth seemed to be challenging the narrative of Joshua. It was that Jonah and Isaiah did, too.

It was also that the Torah was full of requirements like animal sacrifice, and then we get, “For I desire mercy, not sacrifice” from the mouth of God.  

This happens again and again.  Early in the Scripture we hear this, “(God) punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.” But then later in the canon this, “The one who sins is the one who will die.  The child will not share the guilt of the parent…”

The role of the rabbi, then, was to have a lens with which to tease out which narrative of God was most true.  The rabbi’s role was to help the people navigate the true nature of God and reality from the differing pictures found in the Hebrew Scriptures.  

And in First Century Palestine, a remarkable rabbi named Joshua came along with this lens for interpreting the competing texts, “‘Love the Lord your God will all your heart…all your soul…all your mind.’  This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

“Law and Prophets” was short hand for the entire Hebrew Bible.  This rabbi, pulling two direct quotes from the Hebrew Scriptures, used them as the lens by which to read the rest of the text.

Love, according to Rabbi Joshua, is the key to understanding who God is and what reality is like underneath the surface of everything else.  In other words, if it doesn’t smell like/look like/feel like love, it probably has nothing to do with God and the way things really work.

This is a direct challenge to those parts of the Hebrew Scriptures that suggest that God would call for genocide or any other type of violence.  

You know, parts like the Book of Joshua.

And in case we missed it, remember the name of this particular rabbi making this particular challenge: Joshua.

This rabbi is the new Joshua.   In Hebrew, Joshua is the name Yeshua.  Which sometimes gets translated roughly as…Jesus.

And instead of executing his enemies, he allows his enemies to execute him.  And through this movement, this Jesus claims that his enemies now stand, not condemned, but forgiven.

The first followers of Jesus spoke of him, not just as revealing the true nature of God in this death, but also revealing the true nature of God in his life. It was both Jesus’ death and Jesus’ life that challenged the parts of the Scriptures that spoke of a tribal and violent God.

For instance, in the Torah, God tells the twelve tribes of Israel to destroy and displace the seven tribes of the Gentiles.  When Jesus shows up in Israelite territory, he performs a miracle where he feeds thousands of them and picks up twelve basketfuls of leftover bread.  He then crosses a sea into Gentile territory, feeds thousands again, and picks up seven basketfuls of leftover bread.  In other words, when we see God as He really is, He isn’t the God who feeds these people and slaughters those people.  He is the God that feeds and cares for them all.

To take it further, Moses goes up a mountain and is instructed by God—according to the Hebrew Scriptures—to extirpate all nations in Canaanite territory.  In the Greek translations it reads like this, “panta ta ethne”, or “all ethnicities”.  

Go destroy all those other ethnicities.

At the end of Matthew’s account, Jesus goes up a mountain and uses the very same phrase, “panta ta ethne”.  But it is in this context: “Go and make disciples of all ethnicities.” 

Go “family” all those other ethnicities.

The early followers of Jesus were so compelled by his words and his life and his death (and his resurrection!) that they took to pledging allegiance to this Jesus.

And that looked like following the example of Jesus, who instead of killing his enemies, allowed his enemies to kill him.  Who, instead of calling down fire to incinerate those that opposed him, instead forgave them.

Which is why, for the first 400 years, it never occurred to Christians to pick up the sword, rule others by force, impose their will in any coercive or violent way at all.

Pledging allegiance to Jesus meant, above all, that they would never sacrifice another for themselves, but only themselves for the other.