Having celebrated 35 Passover seders with my Hebrew Catholic family, I expected already to know most of what Brant Pitre has to say in Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper. I already knew that Moses prefigured the Messiah to come; that the Last Supper was a Passover meal; that Jesus is both the paschal lamb and the unleavened bread eaten by the Jews, and that we celebrate this same mystery at Mass.
But the details!
Did you know that the Jews’ passover lamb was commonly nailed to a cross-shaped board? Did you know that the manna which sustained the Hebrews in the desert was thought to have been created before the Fall, and “had existed ‘on high’ in heaven” until God gave it to the people to eat? Did you know that the Bread of the Presence, which was consecrated and reserved in the tabernacle of the Temple, constituted both meal and unbloody sacrifice, and was offered with wine each Sabbath? And that the celibate Jewish priests would elevate this bread on feast days, and proclaim, “Behold, God’s love for you!”
But this book is no mere collection of obscure coincidences and historical novelties related to Christ. Pitre sweeps the reader up in his enthusiastic rediscovery of the glorious symmetry of salvation history. It is a gorgeous, persuasive, and enthralling story that you’ve heard bits of here and there. Pitre puts it all together.
The overwhelming sensation I had on reading this book was one of relief. I had fallen into thinking of the New Testament as the half of the Bible that is bright, hopeful, and fresh; whereas the Old Testament is blood and thunder, irrationality and murkiness, with flashes of half-understood prophecies whose fulfillment could only be enjoyed in retrospect. Pitre’s research and exegesis rescued generations of pre-Christian believers, in my imagination, from that terrifying squalor of the half-life of prefigurement. He shows how all the world always has been, and always will be, loved and guided most tenderly by the one true God.
I only have one quibble, mostly just to show some balance in my enthusiasm. In his zeal to show how contemporary Jews would have perceived Christ’s words and actions, Pitre occasionally strays into slightly unsettling language: he speaks of Christ “expecting” and “hoping for” future events in His own life to fulfill the prophesies and traditions of the Jews. Although he by no means implies that Jesus was not omniscient, this vocabulary sits oddly with me. It is, perhaps, the natural way to speak about the life of Christ in a book about the fulfillment of promises; but I wish he had made it more clear that the Exodus, the manna, the Bread of Presence, the passover meal and its fourth and final cup of wine were all ordained expressly for, and in anticipation of, the things to come. Pitre does say this, to be sure (and the evangelist John says the same thing: that Jesus did things “to fulfill scripture”); but his tone occasionally implies that Christ’s actions were cannily calculated to persuade the Jews. As I said, a minor and debatable quibble, which is overwhelmed by the true brilliance of the rest of the book.
Although the book is rigorously researched, Pitre’s tone is conversational and appealing. It began life as a lecture, and reading it is like sitting in class with a gentle and intelligent teacher, who anticipates questions, reminds us of what he told us before, and even suggests that we mark certain pages for future reference. It is highly accessible, but by no means light reading: It is insightful, original, and frequently profound. Pitre shows his sources, and warns the reader when his ideas are speculative. It is above all joyful book.
Who might enjoy this book? Jews who do not accept Jesus as the Messiah. Protestants who think that the Eucharist is just a symbol. Casual scholars who accept the mundane dumbing-down of miracles. Indifferent confirmation students whose eyes glaze over when they hear the words “sacrifice” and “covenant.” And Catholics who desperately want to be interested in the mystery of the Eucharist, because they know it’s really, really important . . . but it’s so hard to pay attention after all these years. Pitre’s book will get your attention, and make you rejoice again for what you have.