This Tragic Gospel suggests that the "Gospel" of John intended to supplant the first three gospels and succeeded in gaining undue influence on the early churches. This study focuses on the tragic moment when Jesus prays for deliverance from his impending death in the garden of Gethsemane. Ruprecht contends that John rewrote this scene in order to convey a very different dramatic meaning from the one reflected in Mark's gospel. In John's version, not only did Jesus not pray to be spared, he actually mocked this prayer, embracing his imminent demise with godlike confidence. Ruprecht believes that this dramatic reinterpretation undermined the tragedy of Jesus's death as Mark imagined it and so paved the way for the development of a kind of Christianity that focused far less on compassion in the face of human suffering. John's Jesus offers the faithful food so that they will never hunger, water so that they will never thirst, and the promise of a world in which no faithful person ever sheds a tear. Mark's Christians do suffer, but they witness to suffering and death differently...with compassion. Mark's Christ suffers, like all Christians after him, but he embodies a tragic hope in the promise of a faith shored up by love and compassion.

It is generally agreed that Mark's Gospel was the first to have been written and that the Markan narrative created a literary form that inspired Matthew, Luke, and to a lesser extent, John to follow suit with the writing of their own gospels. But where did Mark go to find a framework that would shape his story? This question has been debated for more than two centuries. Several theories have been propounded but none without sufficient evidence to gain broad acceptance. It is the thesis of this book that Mark drew on the Greek tragedy, the most suitable literary genre of his time, to organize the oral and written traditions that he had collected. The Greek tragic genre had been created with the works of the great masters of the Fifth Century BC, and later, had been codified by Aristotle. The extraordinary points of congruence between the form of the Gospel and the canons of Greek drama are carefully explored in the Liberated Gospel. The compelling conclusion is that there is a relation of dependency whereas Mark used the form of Greek tragedy as a template without compromising the integrity of the story. As the title of the book suggests, the use of ancient tragedy by Mark served also another purpose. The Gospel was being written at a time during the early history of the church when its Judaistic faction attempted to impose the requirements of the Mosaic law on Gentile believers (as attested by Galatians and the Council of Jerusalem). By telling the very Jewish but universally relevant story of Jesus in the mode of the supreme Gentile literary genre of antiquity, Mark was proclaiming the manifesto that the gospel of Christ was not the exclusive property of a narrow ethnic group but that it belonged to all humanity.

Jeff Jay argues that the Gospel of Mark should be described as tragic because it elicits tragedy's recurring motifs and moods as well as a highly theatrical atmosphere. He thus revises the typical story of tragic drama's history, which portrays the Judeo-Christian tradition as inhospitable to tragedy because it emphasizes divine grace and justice.

A description of 2,000 years of Christian persecution of the Jews, written by a Jewish Christian who contends that Christians are almost totally ignorant of the Jews' agony throughout the centuries. Pointing to the Jewish origins of Jesus and the apostles, and to positive aspects of Judaism, decries the Christian distortion of Judaism, and the hatred and lies spread against the Jewish people up to the present day. Although he believes that the Jews will eventually come to accept Jesus as the Messiah, Brown calls on Christians to approach Jews with love, and not with hatred. He states that Satan is the author of the spirit of antisemitism, and that Christians must recognize that when they hate Jews they are heeding not God but Satan.

Gospels -- Faith -- Wealth -- Health -- Victory -- American blessing -- Megachurch table -- Naming names.

"The Fourth Evangelist understood the elements of Greek drama and employed them to construct the Gospel's plot. Scholars of literary criticism in the Bible and students of drama alike will find in this text a detailed, compelling, and interdisciplinary study that will answer questions left open by prevailing theories and launch avenues of research that have yet to be explored."--BOOK JACKET.Title Summary field provided by Blackwell North America, Inc. All Rights Reserved

Offers wisdom and guidance for Christians to strengthen their faith, discussing how God speaks to individuals, how Jesus' death on the cross paid for sins, who the Holy Spirit is, and more.

Popular pastor and worldwide speaker Matt Chandler writes his first book to remind the church of what is of first and utmost importance--the gospel.

From the award-winning author of Lost Mountain, a stirring work of memoir, spiritual journey, and historical inquiry. At the age of thirty-three, Erik Reece's father, a Baptist minister, took his own life, leaving Erik in the care of his grandmother and his grandfather-also a fundamentalist Baptist preacher, and a pillar of his rural Virginia community. While Erik grew up with a conflicted relationship with Christianity, he unexpectedly found comfort in the Jefferson Bible. Inspired by the text, he undertook what would become a spiritual and literary quest to identify an "American gospel" coursing through the work of both great and forgotten American geniuses, from William Byrd to Walt Whitman to William James to Lynn Margulis. The result of Reece's journey is a deeply intimate, stirring book about personal, political, and historical demons-and the geniuses we must call upon to combat them.

The Literary Agenda is a series of short polemical monographs about the importance of literature and of reading in the wider world and about the state of literary education inside schools and universities. The category of "the literary" has always been contentious. What is clear, however, is how increasingly it is dismissed or is unrecognized as a way of thinking or an arena for thought. It is sceptically challenged from within, for example, by the sometimes rival claims of cultural history, contextualized explanation, or media studies. It is shaken from without by even greater pressures: by economic exigency and the severe social attitudes that can follow from it; by technological change that may leave the traditional forms of serious human communication looking merely antiquated. For just these reasons this is the right time for renewal, to start reinvigorated work into the meaning and value of literary reading. This short but thought-provoking volume asks the question, "What is it that tragedy makes us know?" The focus is on tragedy as a mode of representing the experience of radical suffering, pain, or loss, a mode of narrative through which we come to know certain things about ourselves and our world--about its fragility and ours. Through a mixture of historical discussion and close reading of a number of dramatic texts--from Sophocles to Sarah Kane--the book addresses a wide range of debates: how tragedy is defined, whether there is such a thing as "absolute tragedy," various modern attempts to rework the classical heritage and the relation of comedy to tragedy. There is also a fresh discussion of whether religious--particularly Christian--discourse is inimical to the tragic and of the necessary tension between tragic narrative and certain kinds of political as well as religious rhetoric. Rowan Williams argues that tragic drama both articulates failure and frailty and, in affirming the possibility of narrating the story of traumatic loss, refuses to settle for passivity, resignation, or despair. In this sense, it still shows the trace of its ritual and religious roots. And in challenging two-dimensional models of society, power, humanity and human knowing, it remains an intrinsic part of any fully humanist culture.