In comments on an earlier thread, Democracy Lover offers his view that there seems to be no reason to construct a huge, mostly false, religious framework around the teachings of Jesus. The teachings in and of themselves are worthy of study and remembrance without the trappings of religion to give them authenticity. What follows is my own, still-tentative response, and I hope that you recognize it as still in process, rather than final.
First, I believe that the views he expresses are legitimate. The Jesus-phenomenon does present the modern consciousness, and the post-modern consciousness for that matter, with the begged question of, "Why all the fuss?" Any return to metaphysics, or an appeal to tradition as tradition misses the depth of the question. Why should contemporary people assent to the claim that a human being was also Divine, came back to life after being dead (and his followers claim he will never die again!), and flew up to the sky promising to do the same for those who believed in him? Not only are such claims ludicrous on their face, they reduce the moral and ethical component of his teachings to second-tier status, reducing the power of Jesus as teacher.
A partial answer, I think, is a recognition that such a literal interpretation of the New Testament writings is belied not only by two centuries of historical-critical research, but by a common-sense discussion of reading. While having many reservations about certain aspects of his method, N. T. Wright is correct when he states that such a facile, literal approach to the texts in question belies the layers of metaphor and symbolism behind such claims. When Jesus used apocalyptic imagery, he was no more talking about actual historical events than when he told the parable of the rich man and Lazarus he was describing the after-life. He was using imagery that was current to describe the mystery of God's actions for the Jews then either in exile or in the captivity of Roman occupation, in and through the life and work of himself and those who followed his example. Unpacking that imagery takes volumes and volumes, but suffice it to say that we consider such views literally to our peril.
More to the point, I believe it is disingenuous to insist that we take the Gospel accounts literally on these issues, or the Bible as a whole literally. Do we ever take anything we read literally? I have asked this question before, and I think it is important to address it again. One can not accept the ideology of the Biblical authors, yet still consider what they have to say important.
I also think that to describe certain aspects of the Biblical narrative, or the narrative as a whole as "myth" is confusing and misleading. What, after all, is myth? Whose definition of myth do we use? Do we use Rudolf Bultmann's? Paul Tillich's? Reinhold Niebuhr's? Joseph Campbell's? Mericea Eliade's? Does "myth" equal "falsehood" or does it equal "story conveying meaning through a fanciful narrative construct"? I believe that the word myth, like the word supernatural, should be discarded because it is no longer useful as an analytical tool. One can say with all seriousness that there is truth behind the creation stories in Genesis, for example, but refuse to accept them as a description of events that actually occurred. There is no reason why anyone should consider this intellectually dishonest, unless one believes it necessary to have a prior commitment to a literal interpretation of the Bible.
All of this is by way of a point specifically about Jesus and the Gospel narratives. I think it important to consider the following point: there are few Scripture scholars of whom I am aware who would take most of the Bible's stories, whether in the Old Testament stories of the history of the two kingdoms, or of the narrative accounts of Jesus' life, as accurate descriptions. The general recognition that most of the Old Testament accounts (except for a couple of the prophetic books and bits and pieces of what was once known as the Priestly account, including the second creation narrative in Genesis 2) were written after the exile as reflections upon these events and what they meant for the life of the people makes them not so much about God and God' relationship with this Kingdom or Kingdoms, but about the people and their sense of themselves. That they included cultic references in their discussions should surprise no one; what is surprising is the communal decision not to abandon their national cult once the nation disappeared. Greater kingdoms and empires than they have come and gone, and we know only fragments of their religious beliefs and stories. From this little kingdom we still have a very real line of descent, not just religiously and literary, but as a people as well.
All of this is to say that I do not believe it is necessary to make of Jesus more than he was. One can reverence his words and acts without assigning divine status to his person. One can be a good Christian and make of the resurrection narratives either poetic descriptions of a cultic renaissance in the wake of his death, without making the claim of bodily resurrection. As far as I am concerned the issue of the resurrection as historical event has been bracketed far too much both by theologians and by Scripture scholars out of fear that an honest discussion would present them as professing what is contrary to Church teaching, viz., that Jesus was in no way bodily raised from the dead. Some would say the Church stands or falls on this issue; others say it is of no consequence. Personally, I think the Church is both less and more than any particular claim concerning the acts of Jesus, including the resurrection.
Finally, I think that the traditional formula describing Jesus as God Incarnate, and all the accompanying metaphysical fine-tuning - the two-natures theology, discussions of the hypostatic union - is so much junk that can be discarded. Indeed, relying upon meaningless philosophy, and insisting that it is a description of something real, makes Christian claims even less credible than if we are to ask the serious, even threatening questions that the contemporary secular critics of Christian belief continue to press upon us. I believe that it is a sign of what German theologian Jurgen Moltmann calls a "pusillanimous faith" to dodge the very real concerns, questions, and disbelief of the contemporary world because deep down inside, I believe that those possessed of such a weak-kneed "faith" actually accept the truth of the critics.
All of these ramblings - and I just now realize that I never really answered the question in the title! - put me somewhere on a road the end of which I really can't see. I do know, however, or believe that despite all my misgivings and feelings of inadequacy there is something real behind the masquerade of much of our religious life and language. Finding a way to talk about it, to make sense of it is where I am right now.
