The Evolution Of God Part 8

So what was the point of the whole exercise? Well, you'd have to ask Paul. And what was the point of this this exercise-a.n.a.lyzing how and why Paul's version of Christianity prevailed over other versions of it, and indeed over other versions of religion? exercise-a.n.a.lyzing how and why Paul's version of Christianity prevailed over other versions of it, and indeed over other versions of religion?

The Point of the Exercise.

The point was twofold: to show that some doctrine of interethnic amity was likely to prevail within the Roman empire all along, because that doctrine extracts more value from an imperial platform than other doctrines; and to show how utterly adaptable a given G.o.d can be in service of this logic.

Yahweh had begun life with a decided ethnic bias, in favor of the Israelites. And even when, during the Babylonian exile, he decided that worldwide, hence transethnic, allegiance lay in his future, he deemed the proper stance of non-Israelites to be one of abject submission-not just the submission you'd expect from any worshippers of an almighty G.o.d, but a submission more abject than that of Yahweh's Israelite worshippers. Indeed, it was ultimately a submission to to Yahweh's Israelite worshippers; when the monotheistic impulse first clearly showed itself in the Abrahamic tradition, in Second Isaiah, it was in the service of an ethnic hierarchy. Yahweh's Israelite worshippers; when the monotheistic impulse first clearly showed itself in the Abrahamic tradition, in Second Isaiah, it was in the service of an ethnic hierarchy.

Even so, Yahweh soon mellowed. Once Israel was a member in good standing of the Persian Empire, the case for interethnic amity grew. As we've seen, of the major authorial sources in the Hebrew Bible, the Priestly source-"P"-seems to be the most internationally inclusive; at least, P takes a relatively benign view of nationalities within the Persian Empire. And the best explanation is that P reflects the values promulgated by the Persian leadership after the exile. Here, even before Emperor Ashoka would ill.u.s.trate the point, Cyrus the Great showed that empire could be a morally benign force.

Half a millennium after the return from exile, in the Christian lineage of the Abrahamic family, G.o.d underwent another change. P's G.o.d had been a national G.o.d-the G.o.d of Israel. (At least, under the name Yahweh Yahweh, P's G.o.d had been national, though as we've seen, P's language can be read to mean that other nations' G.o.ds, with their various names, were manifestations of the one true G.o.d.) In contrast, the G.o.d of Jesus-or at least the G.o.d of Paul-was explicitly transnational.

Still, it is misleading to say, as some Christians have, that Christianity replaced the "particularist" G.o.d of the Jews with a G.o.d of "universal love." For one thing, the "particularist" G.o.d of the Jews hadn't found ethnicity per se an insuperable barrier. Long before Paul-even long before P-the Hebrew Bible had enjoined the just and compa.s.sionate treatment of immigrants. For another thing, as we've already seen, Paul's "brotherly love" wasn't truly "universal." It focused more heavily on fellow Christians than on outsiders. Indeed, the Christian G.o.d of supposedly infinite love condemned nonbelievers to an afterlife of suffering. And, since the suffering lasted forever, G.o.d can't say it was "for their own good," the way loving parents can honestly describe the educational punishment of their children.

In other words, Christianity replaced one kind of particularism with another. The new particularism was based not on ethnicity but on belief. If you were outside the circle of proper belief, Christians didn't really love you-at least, they didn't love you the way they loved other Christians. And G.o.d didn't love you either; or if he did did love you, he had a funny way of showing it! Even the people who had introduced this G.o.d to the world, the Jews, didn't qualify for salvation under Christian doctrine as it coalesced after Paul. love you, he had a funny way of showing it! Even the people who had introduced this G.o.d to the world, the Jews, didn't qualify for salvation under Christian doctrine as it coalesced after Paul.

The Return of the Logos.

So there was moral progress yet to be made. Still, G.o.d had proven his flexibility once again. He had shown that when different groups, including different ethnic groups, play non-zero-sum games, he can adapt, growing along the moral dimension to facilitate the playing of the games. Given that technological evolution had evinced a tendency to expand the realm of non-zero-sumness, this augured well for the future. Maybe this realm would continue to grow and G.o.d would continue to grow with it.

Of course, "G.o.d" belongs in quotation marks, because what's growing is people's image of G.o.d, not G.o.d himself-who, for all we know, may not exist. Still, as suggested in chapter 8, this growth of "G.o.d" could be evidence of, if not G.o.d with a capital G, higher purpose in some sense of the term. Specifically, as suggested in chapter 9, Philo's notion of the Logos might be a useful way to think of this divine purpose.

Elements of Philo's theology figured in Gnosticism, a version of ancient Christianity that, like Ebionitism and Marcionitism, fell by the wayside as Paul's brand of Christianity grew. One theme commonly attributed to Gnosticism is that self-knowledge is the path to salvation, an idea that, as we've seen, Philo was big on. 18 18 Also like Philo, the Gnostics spoke of G.o.d in terms of both wisdom and the Logos. Also like Philo, the Gnostics spoke of G.o.d in terms of both wisdom and the Logos. 19 19 They saw Jesus as a manifestation of the Logos, of a book "written in the thought and the mind of the Father," as the Gnostic Gospel of Truth put it. Jesus "put on that book; he was nailed to a tree; he published the edict of the Father on the cross." They saw Jesus as a manifestation of the Logos, of a book "written in the thought and the mind of the Father," as the Gnostic Gospel of Truth put it. Jesus "put on that book; he was nailed to a tree; he published the edict of the Father on the cross." 20 20 This is a little reminiscent of the Gospel of John's declaration that the word, the Logos, "became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth." 21 21 (John is sometimes said to be the one gospel with Gnostic themes.) (John is sometimes said to be the one gospel with Gnostic themes.) Viewing Jesus as the Logos has a certain logic to it. The Logos expands humanity's circle of moral concern. To the extent that Jesus is furthering this cause, he is indeed, in a sense, the "Word" made flesh, a physical incarnation of the Logos. And certainly the Jesus in the Gospel of John is a big advocate of expansive moral concern-of brotherly love. "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another." 22 22 In Mark, the earliest gospel, Jesus had said to love "your neighbor," a reference to the Hebrew scripture that almost certainly meant, in context, love your fellow Israelite. But in John, the last gospel, Jesus, like Paul, is carrying love beyond nationality. True, Jesus also, like Paul, is confining the most intense love to fellow followers of Jesus. He adds, in John, "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." 23 23 Still, by the time the Gospel of John was written, near the end of the first century, the Christian church was broadly multinational, so even if this love wasn't universal, it was quite multiethnic, and so a step toward universalism. The message of Jesus is the Logos in action at that point in time, and in that sense it's not far-fetched to call Jesus an incarnation of the Logos. Still, by the time the Gospel of John was written, near the end of the first century, the Christian church was broadly multinational, so even if this love wasn't universal, it was quite multiethnic, and so a step toward universalism. The message of Jesus is the Logos in action at that point in time, and in that sense it's not far-fetched to call Jesus an incarnation of the Logos.

Of course, there's the problem that the real Jesus, the "historical Jesus," probably didn't didn't say these things. But if we can't equate the Logos with the "historical Jesus," can we at least equate the Logos with the "imagined Jesus"-the Jesus Christians have in mind when they worship, the Jesus who say these things. But if we can't equate the Logos with the "historical Jesus," can we at least equate the Logos with the "imagined Jesus"-the Jesus Christians have in mind when they worship, the Jesus who did did say those morally progressive things? say those morally progressive things?

It may sound paradoxical to say that a Jesus who exists only in imagination is the Logos, or anything else, made flesh. But when Christians revere Christ as they conceive him as they conceive him, they may-according to the theology of the Logos-be revering something authentically divine. For it is the Logos that shaped their conception of him, that infused this conception with a notion of brotherly love that crosses ethnic bounds; it was the expansion of social organization, and the attendant non-zero-sum intertwining of ethnicities-the Logos at work - that led Paul to emphasize interethnic amity and led subsequent Christians to put this message into Jesus's mouth. When Christians conjure up their image of Jesus, putting flesh around the message of love, the word-the Logos-is in a sense being made flesh.

There is a parallel with an ancient doctrine linked to the Gnostics and long deemed heretical: docetism. According to docetism, Jesus wasn't really really made of flesh and blood. He was pure spirit, and the flesh-and-blood part was a phantasm, a kind of illusion. (In one ancient docetic account of the Crucifixion, Jesus is laughing on the cross; lacking a body, he feels no pain.) But in this docetic scenario there is an authenticity to the Christian reverence for Jesus as he appeared, because this appearance, though an illusion, was an illusion sponsored by G.o.d and hence a true manifestation of the divine. So too in a theology of the Logos: to revere Jesus made of flesh and blood. He was pure spirit, and the flesh-and-blood part was a phantasm, a kind of illusion. (In one ancient docetic account of the Crucifixion, Jesus is laughing on the cross; lacking a body, he feels no pain.) But in this docetic scenario there is an authenticity to the Christian reverence for Jesus as he appeared, because this appearance, though an illusion, was an illusion sponsored by G.o.d and hence a true manifestation of the divine. So too in a theology of the Logos: to revere Jesus as Christians conceive him as Christians conceive him is, on the one hand, to revere a construct of the imagination, but, on the other, to revere a manifestation of the divine. It could be that the Jesus Christians know is both an illusion and a true face of G.o.d. is, on the one hand, to revere a construct of the imagination, but, on the other, to revere a manifestation of the divine. It could be that the Jesus Christians know is both an illusion and a true face of G.o.d.

And maybe, for that matter, worshipping a divinely sponsored illusion is about as close as people can get to seeing the face of G.o.d. Human beings are organic machines that are built by natural selection to deal with other organic machines. They can visualize other organic beings, understand other organic beings, and bestow love and grat.i.tude on other organic beings. Understanding the divine, visualizing the divine, loving the divine-that would be a tall order for a mere human being.

Chapter Thirteen.

How Jesus Became Savior.

For many Christians, the word "Jesus" is virtually synonymous with the word "savior." G.o.d sent his son so that, as the New Testament puts it, "all flesh shall see the salvation of G.o.d." 1 1 In a sense, actually, G.o.d's salvation had long been visible. The Israelites were saved from the Egyptians by Yahweh. ("G.o.d, their Savior, who had done great things in Egypt," as the Hebrew Bible has it.) They were later saved from various other tormentors, sometimes by a human being sent for that purpose. ("The Lord gave Israel a savior, so that they escaped from the hand of the Arameans.") And even as Yahweh subjected them to the wrath of the Babylonians-his subtle reminder that salvation is not unconditional-he was preparing Cyrus of Persia to carry divine salvation to the Israelites yet again. Thus the prophet Jeremiah could call Yahweh the "hope of Israel, its savior in time of trouble." 2 2 But none of this is what Christians mean by "salvation." When they call Christ the savior, they're not talking about the salvation of the society or even the physical salvation of the individual, but rather the salvation of the individual's soul upon death. The heart of the Christian message is that G.o.d sent his son to lay out the path to eternal life.

Jesus is, in this view, a heavenly being who controls access to heaven. He "is seated on the right hand of the Father" and will "judge the living and the dead," as it is put in the Nicene Creed, a foundational doc.u.ment of ancient Christianity and to this day a common denominator of Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and most Protestant churches.

This Christian notion of salvation was a watershed in the evolution of the Abrahamic G.o.d-or, at least, in the non-Jewish lineage of that evolution. In both its Christian and Muslim forms, it would prove influential in ways both fortunate and unfortunate. Believing that heaven awaits you shortly after death makes death a less harrowing prospect. And this, in turn, can make dying in a holy war a more attractive prospect, a fact that has shaped history and even today shapes headlines.

After Jesus's death, there was good news and bad news for anyone who would set out to carry the Christian message of salvation across the Roman Empire. Both kinds of news are embodied in little figurines that archaeologists have found in the northern regions of the empire. There, scattered across burial sites, are bronze renditions of a G.o.d named Osiris. 3 3 Exploiting trade routes, this G.o.d had traveled all the way to Gaul-what is now France-from his native Egypt. Exploiting trade routes, this G.o.d had traveled all the way to Gaul-what is now France-from his native Egypt.

Osiris, who had been a major G.o.d in Egypt for millennia, bore a striking resemblance to the Jesus described in the Nicene Creed. He inhabited the afterworld, and there he judged the recently deceased, granting eternal life to those who believed in him and lived by his code. Hence the good news for Christian evangelists: Osiris's penetration of the Roman Empire suggested a widespread thirst for a divine figure of this sort, a sizable niche that a figure like Jesus might fill. And hence the bad news: at least some of the demand for this kind of divinity had already been met. As Christians carried the gospel across the Roman Empire, they would face compet.i.tion from a G.o.d that already embodied some of the emotional appeal we a.s.sociate with Christianity.

The earliest of these evangelists faced a second kind of bad news as they preached the gospel in the Roman Empire. Not only was there already some crowding in the market for a blissful afterlife via spiritual salvation; Jesus himself, it turns out, didn't initially fit into this market niche very well. This will strike some people, including Christians, as strange. Doesn't the Nicene Creed describe a Jesus tailor-made for that niche? Yes, but the Nicene Creed was written centuries after Jesus died. The common picture of Jesus it reflects-Jesus as heavenly arbiter of immortality-would have seemed strange to followers of Jesus during his lifetime. So would its corollary: that the righteous ascend to heaven in the afterlife.

Eternal life of a certain kind may well have been part of Jesus's original message. But it may not have been, and in any event the details of the story-the part about heaven, for example-changed consequentially in the decades after the Crucifixion. The way the now official story took shape is a case study in how G.o.d evolves to fill the psychological needs of his followers and also the survival needs of himself.

How Heaven Became Heaven.

The idea of followers of Jesus getting to join him in heaven upon dying probably didn't take shape until about a half century after he died. To be sure, his followers believed from early on that the faithful would be admitted to the "kingdom of heaven," as the New Testament calls it. But "kingdom of heaven" is just Matthew's term for what Mark had called the "kingdom of G.o.d" -and, as we've seen, the kingdom of G.o.d was going to be on earth. In Matthew, Jesus says, "Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age." Angels will come down and scour the land for "all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father." 4 4 Note the dynamic: angels come to earth from heaven and weed out the bad people, after which the good people remain on the new, improved earth. There's nothing about the souls of dead people ascending to heaven.

In fact, there's nothing about dead dead people at all. Jesus, convinced that the kingdom of G.o.d was "at hand," didn't spend much time describing the afterlife; he spoke as if the day of reckoning was going to arrive any moment, before his listeners had a chance to die, and told people how to prepare. Judgment Day was about the living, not the dead. people at all. Jesus, convinced that the kingdom of G.o.d was "at hand," didn't spend much time describing the afterlife; he spoke as if the day of reckoning was going to arrive any moment, before his listeners had a chance to die, and told people how to prepare. Judgment Day was about the living, not the dead.

But just out of curiosity: What was was going to become of dead people? Would they be resurrected and enter G.o.d's kingdom? And what was existence like for them in the meanwhile? In the years after the Crucifixion, such questions would grow salient as Jesus's followers saw friends and family, people with whom they'd expected to enter the kingdom, die. In a letter Paul wrote to Christians in the Macedonian city of Thessalonica-probably the earliest doc.u.ment in the New Testament-he confronts the unease: "We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope." going to become of dead people? Would they be resurrected and enter G.o.d's kingdom? And what was existence like for them in the meanwhile? In the years after the Crucifixion, such questions would grow salient as Jesus's followers saw friends and family, people with whom they'd expected to enter the kingdom, die. In a letter Paul wrote to Christians in the Macedonian city of Thessalonica-probably the earliest doc.u.ment in the New Testament-he confronts the unease: "We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope." 5 5 Those who stand in G.o.d's good graces, Paul a.s.sured his fellow believers, can look forward to an afterlife even if they die before Judgment Day. Those who stand in G.o.d's good graces, Paul a.s.sured his fellow believers, can look forward to an afterlife even if they die before Judgment Day.

This probably reflects Jesus's own view. The idea that the dead would be resurrected at the culmination of history is found in the Jewish apocalypticism that Jesus inherited (including the book of Daniel), and Jesus affirms the idea in the earliest gospel. 6 6 Besides, Paul's credentials as a witness to Jesus's teachings are good, as such credentials go. Paul was alive when Jesus died and was attuned to the doctrines of Jesus's followers-first as one of their persecutors and then as one of their brethren. Besides, Paul's credentials as a witness to Jesus's teachings are good, as such credentials go. Paul was alive when Jesus died and was attuned to the doctrines of Jesus's followers-first as one of their persecutors and then as one of their brethren. 7 7 In that sense, this pa.s.sage from First Thessalonians, written some two decades before the book of Mark, is the earliest written evidence we have of Jesus's view of the afterlife. In that sense, this pa.s.sage from First Thessalonians, written some two decades before the book of Mark, is the earliest written evidence we have of Jesus's view of the afterlife.

In any event, Paul's view of the afterlife is the earliest doc.u.mented Christian view, and it is notable for two things. First, though Jesus, being the son of G.o.d, went to heaven shortly after dying, ordinary Christians don't follow that path. They have to wait for Jesus to return before things get blissful; "the dead in Christ will rise" only when "the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel's call and with the sound of G.o.d's trumpet, will descend from heaven." 8 8 Second, even then, heaven isn't where the dead are going; rather, they will live out eternity on earth-the much improved earth of the kingdom of G.o.d. Second, even then, heaven isn't where the dead are going; rather, they will live out eternity on earth-the much improved earth of the kingdom of G.o.d.

The "Rapture" Myth.

But what about "the Rapture"-the idea of many Christians today that Christ will come down and escort both living and dead Christians up to heaven? This idea rests on a dubious interpretation of Paul's letter to the Thessalonians, in which he describes how, upon Christ's arrival, first the resurrected dead and then the still-living will rise into the sky: "the Lord... will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever." A fact rarely noted by evangelical Christians-including readers of the Left Behind series of apocalyptic novels-is that this pa.s.sage leaves open the question of what happens after earthlings and Jesus "meet" in midair. Will they all go to heaven together (the "Rapture" interpretation) or come back to earth together? 9 9 If anything, the fact that the earthlings "meet the Lord" rather than the other way around suggests the latter-that it's the humans who are playing host, welcoming Christ to terra firma. If anything, the fact that the earthlings "meet the Lord" rather than the other way around suggests the latter-that it's the humans who are playing host, welcoming Christ to terra firma.

This suggestion is confirmed elsewhere in Paul's writing. We learn from a letter to the Corinthians that the returning Messiah, after raising the dead, will have some mundane business left on his agenda: wiping out the world's many unsavory politicians. Paul, again rea.s.suring Christians about the fate of the dead, writes: "All will be made alive in Christ. But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits [that is, after Crucifixion he became the first to return from the dead], then at his coming those who belong to Christ. Then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to G.o.d the Father, after he has destroyed every ruler and every authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet." 10 10 The final enemy to die, says Paul, will be death itself. ("Where, O death, is your sting?" he asks in a phrase destined for immortality.) 11 11 But even then, once Christians are thus rendered immortal, they apparently spend eternity on earth. After Jesus "hands over" the kingdom to G.o.d, there's no mention of it being relocated. But even then, once Christians are thus rendered immortal, they apparently spend eternity on earth. After Jesus "hands over" the kingdom to G.o.d, there's no mention of it being relocated.

The "Rapture" scenario actually rests on a double confusion. There is confusion about how Paul envisioned Jesus's return unfolding, and Paul is himself confused about how Jesus envisioned the return. In fact, he is confused to think that Jesus envisioned his return to earth at all.

In the gospels, Jesus doesn't say say he'll return. He does refer to the future coming of a "Son of Man"-a term already applied, in the Hebrew Bible, to a figure who will descend from the skies at the climax of history; and the authors of the New Testament seem to have taken this as a reference to Jesus himself. he'll return. He does refer to the future coming of a "Son of Man"-a term already applied, in the Hebrew Bible, to a figure who will descend from the skies at the climax of history; and the authors of the New Testament seem to have taken this as a reference to Jesus himself. 12 12 And plausibly so, since Jesus at one point predicts that the Son of Man will be killed and then arise three days later. Yet Jesus never explicitly equates himself with the Son of Man. And in some cases he seems to be referring to someone other than himself. ("Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.") And plausibly so, since Jesus at one point predicts that the Son of Man will be killed and then arise three days later. Yet Jesus never explicitly equates himself with the Son of Man. And in some cases he seems to be referring to someone other than himself. ("Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.") 13 13 How to account for this odd pattern of usage? One scenario does a pretty good job. Jesus, like any good Jewish apocalyptic preacher of the time, affirmed apocalyptic scenarios in the Hebrew Bible, notably the one about the coming of the "Son of Man." Then, after he died, his followers, stunned by the Crucifixion and trying to make sense of it, speculated that Jesus's references to the Son of Man had been veiled references to himself. It would have been an appealing theory: since Jesus predicted the future descent from heaven of the Son of Man, that must mean Jesus wasn't really dead after all! 14 14 Once the disciples agreed that Jesus had meant this term self-referentially, they would have been empowered not only to give new interpretations to his actual utterances about the Son of Man; they could also invent-or hazily if earnestly half imagine -whole new "Son of Man" utterances. If a disciple claimed that Jesus had once told him that the Son of Man was destined to be killed and resurrected, how could anyone convincingly doubt it? Of course, if the disciple claimed Jesus had said, "I will be crucified," doubt would have abounded. His peers would have asked, "Why didn't you tell us this back while he was still alive?" But if the disciple could insist he hadn't understood the true meaning of the remark at the time-because Jesus used the code phrase "Son of Man" instead of the word "I"-then his report would be invincible.

All of this would explain one of the most dramatic scenes in the New Testament, a scene that is otherwise puzzling. Several days after Jesus is killed, Jesus's mother and Mary Magdalene have found Jesus's tomb empty and are "perplexed." Two mysterious men appear, and the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again." Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again." Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. 15 15 Then they remembered his words? If Jesus's followers had known during his lifetime that "Son of Man" referred to him, and if he had indeed told them that the Son of Man would be crucified and resurrected after three days, it's unlikely that this prediction would have eluded their consciousness during the Crucifixion itself! they remembered his words? If Jesus's followers had known during his lifetime that "Son of Man" referred to him, and if he had indeed told them that the Son of Man would be crucified and resurrected after three days, it's unlikely that this prediction would have eluded their consciousness during the Crucifixion itself!

How could a gospel author write so incoherent a scene? Maybe it wasn't incoherent at the time it was written. If the idea that Jesus was the Son of Man arose only after the Crucifixion-and indeed was at that time famous for having arisen only after the Crucifixion-then the scene would have made perfect sense: the two Marys were having a major epiphany. Yes, they had heard that he might be the Messiah, the man who would save Israel, but they'd never dreamed he could be something even greater: the Son of Man-the figure Jesus himself had so often glorified.

The image of Jesus as the "Son of Man," seated serenely in heaven, ready to welcome the souls of good Christians, may have been crucial in the eventual triumph of Christianity. This image gave it an edge over the religions that didn't offer hopes of a pleasant afterlife and kept it compet.i.tive with the many religions that did. It also inspired Christians to die on behalf of their faith. In the book of Acts, when Stephen is about to be martyred, he faces death with equanimity: "He gazed into heaven and saw the glory of G.o.d and Jesus standing at the right hand of G.o.d. 'Look,' he said, 'I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of G.o.d!'" 16 16 The postmortem identification of Jesus with the Son of Man was a key evolutionary adaptation. The postmortem identification of Jesus with the Son of Man was a key evolutionary adaptation.

Actually, a second adaptation was necessary before Stephen could have that vision. Half of his rea.s.suring imagery-the Son of Man residing in heaven-took root shortly after the Crucifixion, but, as we've just seen, the part about faithful Christians eventually joining him in heaven didn't. Nor did the idea, which Stephen apparently shared, that the reunion with Jesus would come shortly after death. Indeed, Paul's silence on the question of the state of dead people prior to the coming resurrection suggests that his answer was the traditional answer in the Hebrew Bible: they spend their time in sheol sheol, a murky underworld. 17 17 Heaven Can Wait.

It is more than a decade after Paul's ministry before Christian literature clearly refers to immediate reward for the good in the afterlife. In Luke, written around 80 or 90 CE, we're told that the G.o.d-fearing criminal hanging on the cross next to Christ will find himself in "paradise" alongside Christ that very day. 18 18 We're also told a story about the afterlives of a rich man and a poor man. The rich man, who died without repenting his sins, goes to a part of the underworld where, he observes, "I am in agony in these flames." The poor man has better luck. He finds himself in the company of Abraham-perhaps, as some have argued, in heaven, but at the very least in a more hospitable part of the underworld: someplace where "he is comforted." We're also told a story about the afterlives of a rich man and a poor man. The rich man, who died without repenting his sins, goes to a part of the underworld where, he observes, "I am in agony in these flames." The poor man has better luck. He finds himself in the company of Abraham-perhaps, as some have argued, in heaven, but at the very least in a more hospitable part of the underworld: someplace where "he is comforted." 19 19 Some scholars argue that this idea of immediate reward for the Christian dead goes back to Jesus himself-who, after all, is the one who in Luke makes these two references to the afterlife. 20 20 Yet neither reference is found in the earliest gospel, Mark, or in the earlier-than-Luke Q source. The mid-twentieth-century scholar S. G. F. Brandon was almost certainly right to see this idea as developing after Paul and well after Jesus. It is, he noted, a pivotal idea, a departure from "the essentially eschatological figure who was about to intervene catastrophically in the cosmic process, and gather to their eternal reward his Elect." Toward the end of the first millennium CE, "Christ now began to be imagined as dwelling in heaven as the mediator between G.o.d and men." Yet neither reference is found in the earliest gospel, Mark, or in the earlier-than-Luke Q source. The mid-twentieth-century scholar S. G. F. Brandon was almost certainly right to see this idea as developing after Paul and well after Jesus. It is, he noted, a pivotal idea, a departure from "the essentially eschatological figure who was about to intervene catastrophically in the cosmic process, and gather to their eternal reward his Elect." Toward the end of the first millennium CE, "Christ now began to be imagined as dwelling in heaven as the mediator between G.o.d and men." 21 21 What caused the shift? For one thing, as the decades rolled by and the kingdom of G.o.d failed to materialize, there was growing concern among Jesus's followers over the state of the notyet-resurrected dead. Paul's rea.s.surance that believers' recently departed family and friends would join "the rest of us" in the kingdom had worked for a while. But by the time of Luke, more than a decade after Paul's death, that expectation was no longer operative. Now the attentive Christian was concerned not just about whether dead friends and relatives would eventually be resurrected but about what death would feel like until until resurrection, since it increasingly looked as if the Christian in question would join his or her friends and relatives in that state before Christ returned. (It's probably no coincidence that Luke, the first New Testament author to hint at the modern Christian heaven, is also the first New Testament author to downsize hopes of a coming kingdom of G.o.d. The kingdom, Luke says, "is not coming with things that can be observed... the kingdom of G.o.d is within you.") resurrection, since it increasingly looked as if the Christian in question would join his or her friends and relatives in that state before Christ returned. (It's probably no coincidence that Luke, the first New Testament author to hint at the modern Christian heaven, is also the first New Testament author to downsize hopes of a coming kingdom of G.o.d. The kingdom, Luke says, "is not coming with things that can be observed... the kingdom of G.o.d is within you.") 22 22 This was another crucial pivot. Now the payoff from salvation wouldn't be expected within a person's lifetime, but it could come right after death-the next best thing. Had Christian doctrine not made this turn, it would have lost credibility as the kingdom of G.o.d failed to show up on earth-as generations and generations of Christians were seen to have died without getting their reward. But now, with the kingdom of G.o.d relocated from earth to heaven, generations of Christians had presumably gotten their reward, and you could, too, if you accepted Christ as your savior.

Foreign Compet.i.tion.

Why is it Luke, not the roughly contemporary Matthew, who makes this pivot? Maybe because Luke is the most "Gentile" of the synoptic gospels. Whereas Matthew often seems to be trying to convert devout Jews to the Jesus movement, stressing its compatibility with traditional Judaism, Luke is focused on winning "pagan" converts. And if he is going to compete with pagan religions, he'd better make sure that Christianity can match their most popular features. Which brings us back to Osiris, gateway to a blissful afterlife. 23 23 It brings us back to lots of other G.o.ds, too, because Osiris was hardly the only G.o.d in ancient Rome who held this sort of appeal. Though the official G.o.ds of the Roman state offered no blissful afterlife, the empire had been besieged by foreign cults that, by filling this void, had won followings. 24 24 These religions of salvation came under a variety of brands. There were G.o.ds not just from Egypt but from Persia and Greece. Persian cults talked of souls migrating through the planetary spheres to paradise, and Greek cults offered bliss in Hades, the underworld that had once offered only a humdrum existence for the average soul but now featured lush subdivisions. These religions of salvation came under a variety of brands. There were G.o.ds not just from Egypt but from Persia and Greece. Persian cults talked of souls migrating through the planetary spheres to paradise, and Greek cults offered bliss in Hades, the underworld that had once offered only a humdrum existence for the average soul but now featured lush subdivisions. 25 25 Am I saying that Luke stole his afterlife scenario from a competing religion? Not with great confidence, no. But if you wanted to indict him on this charge, you would not be wholly lacking in evidence.

Certainly that story in Luke about the rich man and the poor man in Hades has Osirian overtones. At the time Luke was writing, a written copy of an Egyptian story about the afterlife was circulating in the Roman Empire. It was about a rich man and a poor man who died and went to the underworld. Both were judged at the court of Osiris. The rich man's bad deeds outweighed his good, and so he was consigned to one of the less desirable stations. (Specifically, the story explains: the "pivot of the door" to the underworld was "planted in his right eye and rotating on this eye whenever the door is closed or opened." Understandably, his "mouth was open in great lamentation.") In contrast, the poor man, whose good deeds outweighed his bad, got to spend eternity in the company of the "venerable souls," near the seat of Osiris. 26 26 Plus, he got the rich man's clothes-"raiment of royal linen." (The rich man in Luke's story wore "purple and fine linen.") The moral of the story: "He who is good upon earth they are good to him in Amenti (the underworld), while he that is evil they are evil to him." Plus, he got the rich man's clothes-"raiment of royal linen." (The rich man in Luke's story wore "purple and fine linen.") The moral of the story: "He who is good upon earth they are good to him in Amenti (the underworld), while he that is evil they are evil to him." 27 27 Luke's story about the rich man and the poor man seems to have no precedent in earlier Jewish or Christian tradition. 28 28 So there is indeed a chance that Luke heard or read the Egyptian story and adapted it for Christian use. But we'll probably never know, and anyway, that isn't the point. The point is that whether or not Luke borrowed this particular story from Egypt's heritage, this So there is indeed a chance that Luke heard or read the Egyptian story and adapted it for Christian use. But we'll probably never know, and anyway, that isn't the point. The point is that whether or not Luke borrowed this particular story from Egypt's heritage, this theme theme-immediate reward in the afterlife-must have come from somewhere, and the likely source is one of the religions with which Christianity competed in the Roman Empire. 29 29 Of these religions, Egyptian religion is the leading candidate. And it came in more than one variety. In addition to Osiris himself, there was a mutant Osiris named Serapis. Centuries earlier, after the conquests of Alexander, Greek imperialists who wanted to bond with their Egyptian subjects had fused Osiris and the Greek G.o.d Apis. They called the hybrid Oserapis, later shortened to Serapis. Now, in the Roman Empire, Serapis was worshipped alongside Isis-who, in Egyptian religion, was both the sister and wife of Osiris. By the time Paul wrote his canonical letters to Christians in Rome, Corinth, and Thessalonica, those cities already had cults devoted to Isis, Serapis, or both. 30 30 If Christianity was to compete successfully, as it did, it would have to meet the psychological needs these cults met. If Christianity was to compete successfully, as it did, it would have to meet the psychological needs these cults met.

Born Again.

These needs aren't confined to the question of the afterlife. Though the basic meaning of spiritual salvation in Christianity is the saving of the soul from d.a.m.nation, the term has broader resonance. For many Christians, salvation has been not just a heavenly expectation, but an earthly experience: a dramatic sense of release. What the release is "from" may vary-maybe just from fear of d.a.m.nation upon physical death, but maybe from something else; maybe from some enslaving influence, such as alcohol, maybe from free-floating anxiety or guilt. And the release can be dramatic. Many evangelical Christians are firmly affixed to faith at the moment they feel "born again," perhaps while walking to the front of a congregation to accept Christ as their savior or during the subsequent ritual of baptism.

It's probably no coincidence that religions with which Christianity competed during its formative years also featured moments of transformative release. In the second century CE the Greek writer Lucius Apuleius described an initiation ritual in the Isis cult as a "voluntary death and a salvation obtained through prayer," a way of being "reborn to a course of new salvation." 31 31 Apuleius's account, though fictional, seems to draw on his own experience as a devotee of both Isis and Osiris, and it provides plenty of detail about the born-again experience. Here the initiate recounts his attempt to utter a prayer after a multiday ritual designed to culminate in a sense of contact with Isis: I began so greatly to weep and sigh that my words were interrupted, and as devouring my prayer, I began to say in this sort: O holy and blessed dame, the perpetual comfort of human-kind, who by thy bounty and grace nourishest all the world, and bearest a great affection to the adversities of the miserable, as a loving mother thou takest no rest.... Thou art she that put-test away all storms and dangers from man's life by thy right hand, whereby likewise thou restrainest the fatal dispositions, appeasest the great tempests of fortune and keepest back the course of the stars... thou givest light to the Sunne, thou gover-nest the world, thou treadest down the power of h.e.l.l. I began so greatly to weep and sigh that my words were interrupted, and as devouring my prayer, I began to say in this sort: O holy and blessed dame, the perpetual comfort of human-kind, who by thy bounty and grace nourishest all the world, and bearest a great affection to the adversities of the miserable, as a loving mother thou takest no rest.... Thou art she that put-test away all storms and dangers from man's life by thy right hand, whereby likewise thou restrainest the fatal dispositions, appeasest the great tempests of fortune and keepest back the course of the stars... thou givest light to the Sunne, thou gover-nest the world, thou treadest down the power of h.e.l.l. 32 32 Note how many things the Isis initiate is being released from: the threat of h.e.l.l, all kinds of "storms and dangers" of life, and, indeed, the very root of misfortune; back then astrology was for some a grim determinism, and a religion could prosper by promising to liberate people from the fate that their stars foretold. Hence the initiate's grat.i.tude to Isis who "keepest back the course of the stars."

There has probably never been a religion that was saving people from only one thing. And certainly in the ancient world most religions, like the Isis cult, addressed various threats to physical and mental well-being.

Original Sin.

Among the things religions can save people from is a burdensome sense of their moral imperfection-the sense of sin. Apparently sin was central to the salvation message of early Christianity. Paul put the theme front and center. "All, both Jews and Greeks, are under the power of sin, as it is written: 'There is no one who is righteous, not even one.'" 33 33 Certainly not Paul. "I am of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin. I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.... But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do." 34 34 Scholars differ over whether this is Paul's self-appraisal or whether he is speaking generically about the human condition. Either way, this pa.s.sage must have been consistent with his personal experience.

Indeed, seeing how Jesus could solve his problems with sin may have been Paul's defining intellectual epiphany-the thing that turned him into a zealous organizer of the early church. Suddenly, in Paul's mind, it all made sense. One man, Adam, had brought sin, and hence death, into the human race through his weakness, and now one man, Jesus, had through his strength, and through his death, offered release from sin and death. And it was all a sign of love. G.o.d, to whom humans had long made sacrifices, so loved humanity that now he sacrificed his son. Thus did a story with an unhappy ending-the story of a supposed Messiah who'd wound up crucified-become a compelling message of salvation and eternal life.

But if you're going to start a religion that becomes the most powerful recruiting machine in the history of the world, an appealing message is only half the battle. The message has to not just attract people, but get them to behave in ways that sustain the religious organization and spread it. For example: it would help if sin is defined so that the avoidance of it sustains the cohesion and growth of the church.

This is something Paul did masterfully. Look at the list of sins he enjoins the Galatians to avoid: "Now the works of the flesh are obvious: fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these." Only two of these-idolatry and sorcery-are about theology. The rest are about workaday social cohesion. The last two-drunkenness and carousing-make people unreliable and unproductive members of the community. The first three-s.e.xual excess-could rend the congregation with jealousy and threaten the marriages of congregants. The middle seven-enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy-are explicitly divisive; they are lapses from the brotherly love that was central to Paul's strategy.

And how strongly did Paul urge the Galatians to avoid these sins? After listing them he says, "I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of G.o.d." 35 35 That's a powerful formula: if you don't live the kind of righteous life that helps keep the church robust, then you won't get to live forever in G.o.d's coming kingdom on earth. After the amendment seen in Luke-you won't get to live forever in G.o.d's existing existing kingdom in kingdom in heaven heaven-this formula would become if anything more powerful.

You might call this a "morally contingent afterlife," because it makes a blissful afterlife contingent on your moral fiber -a fiber that, in turn, gives sinew to the church itself. Christianity would harness this incentive to carry the G.o.d of Israel well beyond Israel, into the religious marketplace of the Roman Empire, where he would thrive. The morally contingent afterlife was a major threshold in the history of religion.

Yet Christianity was nowhere near being the first to cross that threshold. Once again, we come back to Osiris. That Egyptian story about the bad rich man whose soul is condemned in the court of Osiris has a very long lineage. The code of Osiris - the formula for a happy afterlife-was spelled out more than a millennium earlier in chapter 125 of the "Egyptian Book of the Dead." This "book" is actually an amalgam of writings used to help secure a happy afterlife, and the writings span millennia. But with chapter 125, which shows up in the second millennium BCE, we see a clear example of a morally contingent afterlife. This chapter tells the deceased exactly what to say when arguing for his soul's salvation before a court of G.o.ds overseen by Osiris. For example: I have brought about no evil. I have brought about no evil.I did not rise in the morning and expect more than was due to me.I have not brought my name forward to be praised.I have not oppressed servants.I have not scorned any G.o.d.I have not defrauded the poor of their property.I have not done what the G.o.ds abominate.I have not caused harm to be done to a servant by his master.I have not caused pain.I have caused no man to hunger.I have made no one weep.I have not killed.I have not given the order to kill.I have not inflicted pain on anyone.I have not stolen the drink left for the G.o.ds in the temples.I have not stolen the cakes left for the G.o.ds in the temples.I have not stolen the cakes left for the dead in the temples...I have not diminished the bushel when I've sold it.I have not added to or stolen land.I have not encroached on the land of others.I have not added weights to the scales to cheat buyers.I have not misread the scales to cheat buyers.I have not stolen milk from the mouths of children...I am pure.I am pure.I am pure.I am pure.

Here, long before the birth of Christ (and for that matter long before the birth of Abrahamic monotheism), is Judgment Day in a fairly Christian sense of the term. 36 36 There is a reward for moral behavior-eternal happiness-and maybe a second, more immediate reward: release from the sense of immorality itself-the sense of sin, the sense of impurity. One funeral spell found inscribed on a coffin was intended to liberate the soul of an Egyptian who had been trapped in "incrimination, impurity and wrongdoing" while on earth. There is a reward for moral behavior-eternal happiness-and maybe a second, more immediate reward: release from the sense of immorality itself-the sense of sin, the sense of impurity. One funeral spell found inscribed on a coffin was intended to liberate the soul of an Egyptian who had been trapped in "incrimination, impurity and wrongdoing" while on earth. 37 37 Civilization and Its Discontents.

Why all the interest in moral purity? When did it become a big human concern? Certainly the annals of anthropology aren't loaded with reports of hunter-gatherers lamenting their moral impurity. 38 38 In their societies the list of regrets about earthly existence features things more along the lines of hunger. Is there something about the advent of agriculture, and the attendant growth in social complexity, that made people feel deficient even when they had enough food? A couple of possible culprits spring to mind. In their societies the list of regrets about earthly existence features things more along the lines of hunger. Is there something about the advent of agriculture, and the attendant growth in social complexity, that made people feel deficient even when they had enough food? A couple of possible culprits spring to mind.

One is religion itself. As we've seen, once social complexity moves beyond the hunter-gatherer level, theft and other forms of antisocial behavior grow more feasible, and religion starts to discourage them. The result could be burdensome. Those Polynesian G.o.ds who afflicted thieves with shark attacks are the kind of thing that could weigh on the mind of someone who has once or twice strayed from virtue and is in the mood for a swim.

More generally, if G.o.ds punish with earthly afflictions a variety of moral transgressions, some of which a person is bound to occasionally commit, then everyday misfortunes become haunting reminders of moral imperfection. In India in the late second millennium BCE, a hymn to the sky G.o.d Varuna, who upheld the moral order, features this line: "O Varuna, what was the terrible crime for which you wish to destroy your friend who praises you? Proclaim it to me so that I may hasten to prostrate myself before you and be free from sin." 39 39 And here is a prayer from ancient Mesopotamia: "May my guilt be distant, 3,600 leagues away, May the river receive it from me and take it down to its depths.... My iniquities are many: I know not what I did.... I have continually committed iniquities, known and unknown." And here is a prayer from ancient Mesopotamia: "May my guilt be distant, 3,600 leagues away, May the river receive it from me and take it down to its depths.... My iniquities are many: I know not what I did.... I have continually committed iniquities, known and unknown." 40 40 Varieties of Sin.

Paul himself, the man who put salvation from sin at the center of Christianity, attributed the burden of sin at least partly to religion. A well-educated Pharisee, Paul felt the demands of the Jewish Law. "If it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, 'You shall not covet.'" 41 41 The burdensome strictures placed on behavior by religions in ancient times came in at least two varieties. First, there were the kind we've been talking about, the kind that are moral in the mainstream sense of the term: rules that keep people from harming their neighbors via theft, a.s.sault, dishonesty, and various other weakeners of the social fabric. Second-and sometimes intertwined with the first-were rules discouraging behaviors that were bad for the sinners themselves.

The second kind of sin, like the first, was partly a product of social organization's evolution beyond the hunter-gatherer level. Once people get much past subsistence, there are whole new opportunities for self-destructive behavior. As civilization advanced, alcohol was ma.s.s-produced, and money could be squandered in new games invented for that purpose. That Indian hymn to the sky G.o.d Varuna depicts a sinner who has isolated the cause of his sin: "Wine, anger, dice, or carelessness led me astray."

And, leaving aside alcohol, gambling, and other famously addictive products of progress, there were human emotions that, however valuable they'd been back in the environment natural selection designed us for, were increasingly problematic. Note the mention of "anger" in that Indian hymn-an emotion that, as we saw in chapter 9, is less useful in a state-level society than in a hunter-gatherer village.

Even an impulse as innocent as hunger could, for the more affluent and sedentary ancient citizens, lead to trouble. And this, too, is something the average hunter-gatherer didn't have to worry about. It's yet another case of a functional impulse becoming potentially dys-functional once removed from the environment it was designed for. Natural selection designed us to get "addicted" to food, but that was in the days when scarcity kept addiction from getting out of hand.

Maybe it shouldn't surprise us that Buddhism, with all its early austerity, was founded by a man who, as a member of the ruling cla.s.s, could presumably indulge his appet.i.tes fully. In any event, the very possibility of overindulging appet.i.tes, a possibility that grew as civilization advanced, suggests that some behaviors came to be considered sins not just because they were bad for society, but because they were bad for individuals. Religion has long been partly about self-help.

A Flawed Society.

By some accounts, the thirst for salvation in the ancient world was grounded partly in a sense that earthly existence itself was impure. By the first millennium BCE, according to the sociologist Robert Bellah, there was "an extremely negative evaluation of man and society and the exaltation of another realm of reality as alone true and infinitely valuable." 42 42 It's certainly true that the long movement from the simplicity of hunter-gatherer society to the complexity of urban civilization had given people new reasons to view social experience dimly. It's easy to see this in the modern world: just go to a c.o.c.ktail party. Rapid-fire interactions with a number of people you know less than intimately can lead to a discomfiting postgame a.n.a.lysis and lasting anxieties. Did I offend her? Was he being purposely rude? Was she lying to me? Will he now ridicule me behind my back? These questions are hard to resolve when you may not see the person in question again for weeks, months, or ever.

There weren't many c.o.c.ktail parties in the ancient world, but things were moving in that direction, drifting away from the small social universe of the hunter-gatherer and toward a world with more social contacts and hence more uncertain ones. Here is a plaint from second-millennium Mesopotamia: The wrongdoer hoodwinks me: The wrongdoer hoodwinks me:I lay hold of the handle of the sickle for him.My friend speaks to me words not reliable,my companion imputes falseness to words I truthfully speak,the wrongdoer says shaming things to me,but you, my G.o.d, do not answer them back. 43 43 It's kind of ironic. You'd think the whole point of civilization-of the evolution of agrarian states in Egypt, Mesopotamia, China, India, and elsewhere-was to reduce threats to physical and psychic well-being. And on some fronts civilization did just that. Presumably you were less likely to be attacked by a wild beast in ancient Sumer or Memphis than in a hunter-gatherer village; and, with irrigated agriculture, your day-to-day sustenance became less iffy. Still, even as civilization defused old sources of insecurity, it seems to have created new ones, and the new ones, if less physically perilous, may in some cases have been more unsettling.

Father Figures.

Maybe these insecurities, together with the new sense of sin, help explain why, as civilization wore on, people more and more seem to have wanted G.o.ds with parental qualities-protective, consoling, and, if demanding, at least able to forgive. In the second millennium BCE, a Mesopotamian prayer refers to a moon G.o.d as "merciful and forgiving father." Granted, the same prayer calls him a "strong bull, with terrible horns" whose "divinity is full of fear." 44 44 According to the scholar Thorkild Jacobsen, Mesopotamian conceptions of G.o.d are in this millennium moving toward that of the "stern but loving father," with the G.o.ds' terrible awe increasingly "in tension with underlying love." According to the scholar Thorkild Jacobsen, Mesopotamian conceptions of G.o.d are in this millennium moving toward that of the "stern but loving father," with the G.o.ds' terrible awe increasingly "in tension with underlying love." 45 45 Egypt, too, saw the evolution of a loving, parental G.o.d. Osiris himself, notes the scholar J. Gwyn Griffiths, had been a G.o.d of "fear and terror" before a.s.suming friendlier form. 46 46 And in the second millennium BCE the great Egyptian G.o.d Amun is showing a compa.s.sionate side, to judge by this encomium: "My heart longs to see you, joy of my heart, Amun, champion of the poor! You are the father of the motherless, the husband of the widow." And in the second millennium BCE the great Egyptian G.o.d Amun is showing a compa.s.sionate side, to judge by this encomium: "My heart longs to see you, joy of my heart, Amun, champion of the poor! You are the father of the motherless, the husband of the widow." 47 47 Christians worship a loving father G.o.d, and many of them think this G.o.d is distinctively Christian: whereas the G.o.d of the Old Testament features an austere, even vengeful, father, the G.o.d of the New Testament-the G.o.d revealed by Christianity -is a kind and forgiving father. This view is too simple, and not only because a G.o.d who is kind and merciful shows up repeatedly in the Hebrew Bible, but because such G.o.ds had shown up long before the Hebrew Bible was written.

And, as we've just seen, so too with a lot of other main ingredients of Christianity-the born-again experience, Judgment Day, a morally contingent afterlife: nothing really new here.

It shouldn't surprise us that early Christianity was a mildly novel recombination of spiritual elements already in the zeitgeist. Any religion that grew as fast as Christianity did must have been meeting common human needs, and it's unlikely that common human needs would have gone unmet by all earlier religions.

Linkage.

Another thing a successful religion has to do is meet its own needs-remain a vibrant and cohesive social movement. As Paul understood when he labeled disruptive behavior sin, his church, first and foremost, had to stay intact.

The word Romans used for "intact" was salvus salvus. Something that was salvus salvus was whole, in good working order. The expression was whole, in good working order. The expression salvus sis salvus sis meant "May you be in good health." meant "May you be in good health." Salvus Salvus is the word from which "salvation" comes. G.o.d, in moving from Israel into the wider world-the Roman Empire-continued to pursue the goal he had pursued in ancient Israel: provide salvation-keep the social system safe from forces of destruction and disintegration. is the word from which "salvation" comes. G.o.d, in moving from Israel into the wider world-the Roman Empire-continued to pursue the goal he had pursued in ancient Israel: provide salvation-keep the social system safe from forces of destruction and disintegration.

There were differences between the way this job description played out in ancient Israel and in Rome. With early Christianity, the social system in question was a nongovernmental organization; it was just a church-not, as with Israel, a church-based state. Still, in both cases, for the religion to remain enduringly viable, it had to keep the system intact; it had to provide salvation at the social level. Paul's formula for preserving the church's cohesion-deeming divisive behavior d.a.m.ning sin -could be described as a way of linking individual salvation to social salvation.

If you define individual salvation broadly enough-as the saving of the individual or the soul from all kinds of afflictions -then this linkage has fueled successful religions in many times and places. The Polynesian religion that punished theft with shark attack made individual salvation contingent on behaviors conducive to social salvation. So did the Mesopotamian religion whose G.o.ds sent suffering to people who imperiled the health of others by urinating in drinking water. So did Moses when he laid out the Ten Commandments, then told the Israelites that G.o.d wanted to instill in them the fear of his wrath "so that you do not sin." 48 48 (Eventually the contours of the fear would be spelled out: if you sin, and then fail to atone for your sins via repentance and good works during the High Holy Days, your chances of dying during the next year go up.) (Eventually the contours of the fear would be spelled out: if you sin, and then fail to atone for your sins via repentance and good works during the High Holy Days, your chances of dying during the next year go up.) Certainly the Osirian religion of Egypt linked individual and social salvation-and, by defining individual salvation to include a blissful afterlife, strengthened the linkage. This improved formula, once adopted by followers of Jesus, would help Christianity dominate the Roman Empire. 49 49 It would later, as we're about to see, help drive the expansion of Islam. There's no denying its effectiveness in making some of the world's dominant religions dominant religions. It would later, as we're about to see, help drive the expansion of Islam. There's no denying its effectiveness in making some of the world's dominant religions dominant religions.

But its modern-day effectiveness is a more complex question. When Christianity reigned in Rome, and, later, when Islam was at the height of its geopolitical influence, the scope of these religions roughly coincided with the scope of whole civilizations. The bounds of the Roman Empire were the bounds of an economically and politically integrated expanse, as were the bounds of the Islamic Empire. Yes, both empires did business with people beyond their borders, but the world's polities hadn't become nearly the dense collective web they would eventually become; there was no global civilization. Today's world, in contrast, is so interconnected and interdependent that Christianity and Islam, like it or not, inhabit a single social system-the planet.

So when Christians, in pursuing Christian salvation, and Muslims, in pursuing Muslim salvation, help keep the