“Absolute Truth” and the God of the Oppressed

“Truth is a question not only of what is but of what ought to be. What is, is determined by the existing societal relations of material production, with the ruling class controlling the means of production as well as the intellectual forces which justify the present political arrangements. What ought to be is defined by what can be through the revolutionary praxis of the proletarian class, overthrowing unjust societal conditions. Thus the future is introduced into the historical process, wherein thought is shaped by open human possibilities.”
— James H. Cone, “God of the Oppressed”

Many Christians in the West get hung up on the concept of “Absolute Truth.” We have an obsession with “truth” as an unbiased, tangible reality that ought to be achieved or pursued.

First of all, truth is a good thing! Just consider the absence of truth and how problematic that has turned out to be: Our world is rampant with “fake news” and “alternative facts;” conspiracy theories, scientific skepticism, and political biases are at an all-time high. We need truth more than ever. We need something to ground us.

Here is where the lines get blurred. It is frequent that “truth” gets defined by those in power: Those with influence or (as Cone says) those in charge of the means of production. If a ruling class suggests “truth” is their specific way of thinking and being in the world, an entire system ends up being built to uphold that “truth.”

This is what we have in the West. Our Western systems are built using a framework of truth as defined by the White ruling class. Our economic systems, political systems, justice systems, policing systems, incarceration systems, and even faith systems (to name a few) are all built on a foundation of truth as portrayed through the lens of the ruling class. This is White supremacy. This is a skewed perception of reality that dominates over other realities, as it claims it alone possess the “truth.”

Truth cannot be unbiased and absolutized by ignoring those outside dominant systems. Further, truth cannot be absolute if it isn’t true for those who don’t fit into said dominant systems. This system doesn’t merely not work for those it excludes; it is also oppressive towards them. In the West, this is especially true of BIPOC.

James Cone suggests those who are oppressed by the dominant class have a perspective that is vital to any conversation surrounding truth. They deeply understand the ways the dominant system is flawed because these flaws have real-life negative results that directly impact them. This gives oppressed people a unique lens in that they experience how the system doesn’t work for them, yet they know how it ought to be (or how it could be fixed). They experience first-hand the ways the system is exclusive and oppressive. This brings us to an important point: Any conversation about fixing a broken system must begin with and be led by those who are oppressed by said system. If these conversations happen only with people who benefit from a system the way it is, then it will inevitably continue to oppress those it excludes.

Overlooking and ignoring the voices of people who have been under the boot of an oppressive system will inevitably result in some sort of revolt. However, the violence of the oppressed is not the same as the violence of the oppressor. Injustice is perpetuated by treating both as the same.

This is precisely what was happening in Jesus’ day, too. The Jews were a colonized people living under Roman occupation. The Romans were ruthless; they had “perfected” execution to be the most intentionally painful and torturous form of (humiliating) death imaginable in order to discourage insurrection. Crucifixion demonstrated what Rome did to anyone who was deemed a threat to the status quo. This was systemic oppression.

Enter the provocative narrative of Barabbas. Barabbas is arguably the most misunderstood character from the gospel stories. As Western readers of the text, we need to learn to sympathize with Barabbas.

While Jesus was on trial in front of Pontus Pilate, it was customary procedure for Pilate to offer the release of one of the prisoners held captive in exchange for the newly accused individual on trial. According to Matthew’s gospel account, “Jesus Barabbas” is selected by Pilate. He lets the crowd decide: “Whom do you want me to release for you, Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” (Matthew‬ ‭27:17‬ ‭NRSV‬‬)

You may notice that this account is unique compared to the other gospel accounts in that it uses the prefix “Jesus” in front of Barabbas’ name. “Jesus” is Greek for the Hebrew name Yeshua (or Y’shua), which means “deliverer.” Understood in this light, it is important that we remove any preconceived notions we may have regarding Barabbas.

Barabbas was not a psychopathic crazy man utterly terrifying to behold, as we have often imagined. Barabbas was not an “evil” man. Rather, Barabbas’ intentions were good. Barabbas was a Zealot. He looked and played the part of a militant Jewish messiah. He was also a victim held captive by Rome. We must remember that Barabbas was an oppressed Jew living under Roman occupation as well. Zealots cared deeply for the liberation of their Jewish kin from the brutal colonization of the Romans. But what distinguished Jesus Barabbas from Jesus the Christ was that he was willing to use violent force to do so. In short, Barabbas was willing to fight to the death for the freedom of his people, while Jesus the Christ would rather die than pick up the sword.

The story goes that the crowd chose Barabbas and the path of violence, because the way of Jesus the Christ made no logical sense to them. We can’t blame them. The Way of Jesus must have looked absurd. To the Jews, Jesus’ path would only lead to inevitable death. How could this be liberating? Jesus, however, demonstrates through His death and resurrection a solidarity with all oppressed people. He exemplifies that violence is not the means to true liberation, and that true deliverance could only be achieved through His defeat of death itself. Violence may provide temporary freedom, but nothing permanent because violence always reproduces violence.

Why did I bring this up, you may ask? What does this have to do with absolute truth?

Both Barabbas and Jesus operated within a system that not only excluded them, but colonized them. They operated within a Roman system that told them how to exist in the world. Both were oppressed by this system, and desired freedom from Roman captivity. Both were examples of liberators who used very different means to achieve their desired outcomes. They both saw what was (oppressive Roman occupation), and desired what ought to be—liberation. Rome created the truth narrative, but it excluded the Jewish narrative. This is what empires do. Empires dominate.

Unfortunately, Barabbas’ plan backfired, and in 70 A.D. General Titus demolished Jerusalem, scattering the Jews from their homeland. Roman rule of Judea was not only restored but expanded. Violence begets violence begets violence. When will it stop?

This is why the cross of Jesus the Christ is so scandalous. The cross is Jesus’ way of subverting the narrative of Empire, ending the cycle of violence through the absorption of violence upon Himself. It was a radical act that not only subverted the colonial powers of Rome, but—wait for it—achieved a new reality that prioritized the oppressed. This is the upside-down “Kingdom of God” that Jesus preached, where the last will be first and the first will be last. It is a truth narrative that gives preference to oppressed people. Jesus is saying there’s an even better way than using violence to achieve deliverance from one’s enemies (that even includes forgiveness of said enemies). This is the scandalous good news of Jesus the Christ. It might be bad news to an oppressor at first, but if they are willing it has the power to liberate them as well. The Way of Jesus is truly liberating for all who are willing to see it!

Published by thedecolonizingchristian