The evolution of belief

I have noted previously that salvation through Jesus Christ is less perfect than a beefsteak: a beefsteak nourishes you regardless of whether you believe in amino acids; the Atonement saves you only if you believe in Jesus’s divinity. 

How could salvation have reached such a sorry state?

I have a guess, of sorts. This narrative is full of conjecture, informed by my very incomplete knowledge, perhaps even unto flat out misconceptions. So see if this makes any sense, and please offer corrections and criticism:

Judaism around the turn of the millennium was very rule-bound. By some later counts, there were 613 rules to follow. Jesus, according to the Synoptic Gospels*, came along and said (and I paraphrase), “The rules are great, sure, but they aren’t what really matters. What really matters is loving God and loving your neighbor. Stop obsessing over the little stuff and open yourself to transformation by the Holy Spirit–as I have done.” His message turned conventional wisdom on its head: Give up your wealth and power; the Kingdom belongs to the outcasts; turn the other cheek instead of exacting an eye for an eye.

During his ministry, “belief” that Jesus was the Savior wasn’t a big deal. In fact, he twice told his disciples not to tell anyone what they knew about him (Matthew 16:20, Matthew 17:9). What mattered was spiritual transformation through following his teachings and his example. Hence, “I am the way.”

Belief took on greater importance after the crucifixion and Easter. You had to believe that the promise offered by Jesus’s ministry and example wasn’t snuffed out on Good Friday. No longer was it good enough for Jesus to be some celebrity itinerant preacher. If that’s all he was, you went on to the next thing. But if you stuck with, or joined, his band, you believed he was it. Belief in Jesus as the Messiah was now the thing that distinguished you as a Christian from either the “business as usual” Jews or the non-Christian Gentiles.

Early Christians were a radical group. You became a Christian by conversion. Conversion is a transforming experience, especially if you are converting to a radical, communal sect that turns the world’s power equation upside down. So now, transformation was bound together with the belief that Jesus was the Messiah. The later Gospel of John reflects this new emphasis on belief (e.g., John 3:16).

Fast-forward 2,000 years. Christianity is no longer a radical sect; for the past 1,700 years it has been associated with the power of the State. Chances are, you were born into it rather than coming to it by conversion. Whereas once it was a rejection of the status quo, now it is the status quo. Whereas belief was once synonymous with transformation, it is now merely a worldview–likely one you grew up with, likely the same worldview shared by your neighbor.

For some, belief and transformation still go together–conversions still happen. Here’s an example I came across today:

Once a successful New York financier, Richard J. Alberta had become a born-again Christian in 1977. Despite having a nice house, beautiful wife, and healthy firstborn son, he felt a rumbling emptiness. He couldn’t sleep. He developed debilitating anxiety. Religion hardly seemed like the solution; Dad came from a broken and unbelieving home. He had decided, halfway through his undergraduate studies at Rutgers University, that he was an atheist. And yet, one weekend while visiting family in the Hudson Valley, my dad agreed to attend church with his niece, Lynn. He became a new person that day. His angst was quieted. His doubts were overwhelmed. Taking Communion for the first time at Goodwill Church in Montgomery, New York, he prayed to acknowledge Jesus as the son of God and accept him as his personal savior.

Dad became unrecognizable to those who knew him. https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2024/01/evangelical-christian-nationalism-trump/676150/

For others, transformation may run in the opposite direction: A person who grew up with a stultifying Christianity may be “saved” by rejecting that belief. That’s what happened for me, anyway. Judging from comments by others on this site, I’d say I’m not alone. What’s good for the goose isn’t always good for the gander.

In sum: “Belief” in Jesus as the Messiah was not a core part of Jesus’s teaching. It evolved after the crucifixion as the thing that defined Christians in relation to other contemporary groups, and thus became associated with conversion and radical transformation, a.k.a., “salvation.” In today’s world, that association holds true for some people, but not for others.

Whaddya think?

(I can already see certain folks sharpening their pencils to note my elaborate justification for why I don’t believe as proof of how I deliberately deceive myself. Have at it!) 


*For purposes of this narrative, I assume that Jesus was a real person and that the Synoptic Gospels allow us to form an accurate-enough picture of his ministry. If those assumptions are incorrect, the narrative still works inasmuch as it reflects what people believed about “Jesus” based on those same texts.