Many individuals have changed the course of human history. There were kings who built empires, generals who conquered continents, philosophers who established new ideas, and scientists who transformed the world. However, it is rare for a person without an army, territory, wealth, or power to continue influencing the lives and civilizations of billions of people for 2,000 years after their death.
That person is Jesus of Nazareth.
He was not an emperor. He did not command an army, nor did he leave behind a single book. He was not born in a palace, nor did he operate in the centers of power in Rome. Instead, he walked through small towns on the fringes of the Roman Empire, sharing his message with people, meeting the sick and the poor, and dining with his disciples. Ultimately, he was executed by crucifixion, a punishment imposed by the Roman Empire.
By worldly standards, his life appears to have been a failure.
Yet, after his death, history shifted. The small community that followed him spread beyond Jerusalem to Asia Minor, Greece, and Rome. A faith that was once persecuted became an officially recognized religion in the Roman Empire centuries later, eventually becoming central to European civilization. The unified church split into Western and Eastern branches over time, leading to the Catholic and Orthodox churches we know today, and later, the Protestant movement emerged from the Reformation in the 16th century.
Today, what we call 'Christianity' encompasses all of this.
Catholicism is Christianity, Orthodoxy is Christianity, and Protestantism is Christianity. Despite differences in doctrine, tradition, worship, and church structure, they all originate from Jesus Christ.
To understand Christianity, one must first return to one person before the Pope or Luther.
That person is Jesus.
To understand Jesus, we must go back to an even older story.
That story is Judaism.
Jesus was a Jew.
The first fact to remember as we begin the history of Christianity is that Jesus was a Jew.
He was born into a Jewish family, read the Jewish scriptures, and was familiar with synagogues and the temple. He observed the Sabbath and Passover, and taught based on the laws of Moses and the words of the prophets. His first disciples were also Jews.
Therefore, Christianity did not emerge suddenly from a place entirely unrelated to Judaism. It began in the long river of history that includes Abraham, Moses, the Exodus, the covenant at Sinai, the Torah, and the prophets.
In the preceding Jewish trilogy, we witnessed Abraham's departure, followed Moses' Exodus to freedom and covenant, and explored the tradition of questioning and study through the Torah and Talmud. Ultimately, we reached out to figures like Einstein, Nobel laureates, finance, corporations, and even AI, asking:
"Whom does the power you have save?"
The story of Christianity continues that question. For whom will you use your power? The answer Jesus showed was unexpected. It was not a stronger power. It was love.
During the time Jesus lived, Palestine was under Roman rule. The political freedom of the Jews was limited, and the complexities of Roman governance, taxation, local power, and religious authority intertwined.
The Jews waited. There was an expectation that God would save Israel and restore justice, a longing for a Messiah that permeated the air of the time. Some anticipated a political liberator, while others awaited religious renewal.
Then, a man appeared in Galilee. It was Jesus.
He did not form an army or create a political organization to overthrow Rome. Instead, he spoke of a completely different kingdom.
The Kingdom of God.
This kingdom was not merely an empire expanding its territorial map. It was a realm where people loved God and their neighbors, where the poor and oppressed were not ignored, and where the order of life was transformed from within.
The Roman Empire was maintained by military might, laws, and taxes. The kingdom Jesus spoke of began with love, justice, and mercy. The Christian revolution starts here.
Galilee was not the center of the empire. Compared to Jerusalem, it was a remote area. Yet, Jesus called people from that periphery.
Fishermen followed him. Tax collectors joined him, and nameless individuals gathered around him. Women also walked alongside him. He approached the sick and dined with those who were considered sinners by society.
For Jesus, the table was not merely a place to eat. In a time when who you shared a meal with reflected your worldview, sitting at the same table as those excluded from society was a new declaration about humanity.
People come first.
This does not mean that norms are unnecessary. It was not a declaration to abolish the law. Rather, it was a call to reconsider the purpose of the law.
Does man exist for the Sabbath, or does the Sabbath exist for man? Does religion save humanity, or do humans exist to uphold religious institutions? The questions that Judaism has pondered for thousands of years deepened into more fundamental inquiries through Jesus.
To simplify Jesus' teachings as 'discarding the law in favor of love' is not accurate. He elevated the love of God and love of neighbor to the center of the law within the Jewish tradition.
The issue was remaining fixated on the letter of the law while losing its spirit. Not killing does not justify harboring hatred in one's heart. Not committing adultery does not cleanse the desire to view others as objects of lust. Being outwardly pious does not eliminate inner greed and hypocrisy.
Jesus delved deeper into human behavior.
It was about the heart.
If the law governs human actions, love moves the human heart. Thus, Jesus' religious revolution was not about abolishing external rules but rather bringing those rules into the human interior.
Do not perform good deeds to be seen by others. Do not pray to be noticed by others. Do not fast to show off to others. He cautioned against making religion a means of self-promotion.
The most challenging revolution for humanity may not be changing the world but changing oneself.
One of the most concise summaries of Jesus' teachings is found in the Beatitudes.
By worldly standards, blessed are the wealthy, the powerful, and the victors in battle. However, Jesus called forth a different group: the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers.
The hierarchy of power is turned upside down.
Among these teachings, the most radical may be the command to love one's enemies. It is not difficult to love friends. It is natural to do good to those who treat us well. However, the demand to love those who hate us and pray for those who persecute us conflicts with human instincts.
Thus, the love Jesus spoke of is not sentimental love.
Love is not weakness; it is the power to transcend oneself. It is the ability to refrain from retaliation when one could, to not become a slave to hatred when there is reason to hate, and to recognize the dignity of others even when one has the power to subjugate them.
That is the challenge of the love Jesus spoke of.
Among Jesus' teachings, one that has become widely known as a universal ethic beyond religion is the Golden Rule: treat others as you wish to be treated. It seems simple, but it is difficult to practice.
Most people apply different standards to themselves than they do to others. They seek understanding for their own mistakes while holding others accountable for theirs. They are sensitive to their own pain but often indifferent to the suffering of others.
The Golden Rule breaks this double standard.
It asks us to switch places with others. If I were poor, if I were sick, if I were a foreigner, if I were a child in a war zone, if I were someone seeking forgiveness, how would I want to be treated?
Ethics begins with that role reversal.
"Who is my neighbor?"
In one of Jesus' parables, the story of the Good Samaritan questions the boundaries of love. A man was attacked by robbers and left for dead. Religious figures who were respected at the time passed by without helping. Instead, a Samaritan, who was in a tense and conflicted relationship with the Jews, stopped to care for the wounded man and even covered his expenses.
The question Jesus posed goes beyond a simple lesson to live kindly. It asks, who is my neighbor? More deeply, it transforms the question: Before asking who is on my side, whom will I choose to be a neighbor to? It transcends ethnic, religious, and class boundaries. Can we approach those who suffer simply because they are human?
This question remains relevant even after 2,000 years.
Jesus often directed his gaze toward the marginalized in society: the poor, the sick, the hungry, the imprisoned, the foreigners, and the socially excluded.
While various historical factors contributed to the development of hospitals, schools, orphanages, and relief organizations in Christianity over the past 2,000 years, at its core lies the ethical teaching Jesus left behind.
How we treat the least among us becomes a standard for evaluating humanity and community. This connects to the justice proclaimed by the Jewish prophets. While Amos condemned the powerful and wealthy who trampled the poor, Jesus took it a step further, teaching that what is done to the least of these is done to him.
The focus of religion shifts from the altar to humanity.
Can one claim to love God while hating people? Can one pray while ignoring the hungry? Can one worship while trampling on human dignity?
This question will later serve as a judgment on the entirety of Christian history.
Like love, forgiveness is a defining term in Christianity. Forgiveness does not mean erasing wrongs. It does not entail abandoning justice. It certainly does not force victims to forget.
The profound meaning of forgiveness lies in breaking free from the vicious cycle where hatred begets hatred. Revenge is easy to understand; forgiveness is difficult.
Thus, forgiveness requires strength.
To endure without power is not forgiveness. True forgiveness is the choice not to surrender one's life to hatred, even when one has the power to retaliate.
Here, love and freedom intersect.
A person who has the freedom to hate but chooses not to become a slave to hatred embodies a form of freedom Jesus demonstrated.
However, speaking of love does not always elicit a loving response from the world. Jesus left Galilee and headed to Jerusalem. Jerusalem had the temple, religious authority, and Roman political power.
He performed a symbolic act by driving out the merchants from the temple and criticized religious hypocrisy. As more people gathered around him, he became an uncomfortable presence for the existing order. In Jerusalem, where religion and politics, popular expectations and Roman governance were intricately intertwined, Jesus was ultimately arrested.
Here, the paradox of Christianity begins.
The one who believed he could save the world was executed by the very powers of that world.
Facing death, Jesus sat at the table with his disciples. This gathering is one of the most famous meals in Christian history: the Last Supper. At this moment, Jesus demonstrated a radically different view of power. The Gospel of John recounts that he washed the feet of his disciples.
At that time, washing feet was a task for the lowly. Yet, the master lowered himself before his disciples. He turned the worldly order upside down, where greatness is often equated with being served. Instead, he taught that those in high positions should serve even more.
Whether the church has upheld this principle in the following years is a separate issue. The church has held power and at times colluded with secular authorities, even participating in violence in the name of religion. However, this makes the scene of the Last Supper even more poignant. Each time the church rises in power, it must remember Jesus kneeling before his disciples.
Ultimately, Jesus was crucified. The Roman method of crucifixion was a brutal public execution. It not only killed the body but also humiliated the individual socially.
From a worldly perspective, it was a complete defeat.
His disciples scattered, and their leader was dead. There was no organization, no power, no army. Yet, Christianity adopted the cross as its most significant symbol.
Why?
Christian faith does not view Jesus' death merely as a political execution. It finds theological meaning in human sin, salvation, and God's love through that death. Different Christian traditions have explained the relationship between the cross and salvation in various ways, but one central theme remains clear.
Love is the ability to give oneself. The power of the world subjugates others. The power of the cross is to give oneself.
Thus, the cross represents the paradox of power in Christianity. The strongest love is revealed at the moment of apparent weakness.
However, if the story of Jesus ended at the cross, Christianity would not have been born. His disciples testified that he rose again after his death. The resurrection occupies a space where history and faith approach differently. A historically verifiable fact is that after Jesus' death, his community of disciples did not disappear. Instead, they gathered around the belief that Jesus had risen and began to spread that faith.
In Christian belief, the resurrection is a declaration that death is not the final word.
Despair is not the end. Failure is not the end. Even death is not the end. The paradox of Christianity is completed only when the cross and resurrection coexist.
Through suffering to hope. Through death to life. Through despair to a new beginning. Thus, the history of Christianity does not end in the grave but begins anew from it.
After Jesus' death, a small community remained. There was Peter, there was James, and there were other disciples. Soon, a pivotal figure in Christian history emerged.
That figure was Paul.
Not a disciple during Jesus' lifetime, Paul played a crucial role in expanding the early Jesus movement beyond Jewish boundaries into the Gentile world. The faith that began in Jerusalem spread through Antioch to Asia Minor, Greece, and Rome.
Here, new questions began to arise.
Jesus was a Jew, so why did Christianity take a different path from Judaism? How did a small movement in Galilee spread throughout the Roman Empire? How did a religion once persecuted become one officially recognized by the empire?
And how did the early unified Christianity develop into Eastern and Western traditions, eventually leading to the split between Catholicism and Orthodoxy? Following that, why did the Reformation occur within the Western Catholic Church, giving rise to Protestantism? What happened to Jesus' love when Christianity gained power?
These questions will be addressed in Christian Story Part 2.
However, before examining the 2,000-year history of the church, we must return to Jesus. What did he leave behind? It was not a grand cathedral. It was not the Vatican. It was not a seminary or a denomination. There was no Catholicism, Orthodoxy, or Protestantism yet. What remained were people, a few words, and one life.
Love God.
Love your neighbor.
Love even your enemies.
Forgive.
Do not ignore the least among you.
Treat others as you wish to be treated.
If you want to be great, serve.
The words are simple. The practice is difficult. Thus, it remains a revolution that has not ended even after 2,000 years.
Yoo Young-mo, a Korean thinker, comes to mind. He was a Christian but did not merely repeat Western Christianity. He sought to read the Bible through the depth of Eastern thought and the Korean language.
For him, it was not important to view Jesus merely as an object of worship.
It was about how humans could live out the path Jesus walked. The 'One' he spoke of was not something humans could possess but rather the ultimate goal humans should strive for by emptying themselves. 'Eolna' was also the path to rise as one's true self beyond the 'Jena' trapped in desire and ego.
One cannot simply equate Jesus' God with Yoo's 'One.' Nor should one forcibly merge Christian theology with Yoo's thought. However, there is a profound resonance between Jesus' self-emptying and Yoo's path beyond 'Jena.'
To make room for others, one must empty oneself. To see a larger world, one must lower oneself. Love ultimately involves transcending self-centeredness.
In Judaism, truth was sought through questions. In the first chapter of Christianity, truth meets love. However, love is not a sentiment that turns a blind eye to truth. It cannot be love to remain silent in the face of injustice, nor can one claim to love while ignoring the suffering of the weak.
Thus, love requires justice. Justice, too, can easily become a cold judgment if it loses love. And love and justice are only truly fulfilled in free human beings. A person enslaved by money, power, or hatred finds it difficult to love genuinely.
Truth, justice, and freedom are ultimately interconnected.
At the center of it all is humanity. Ultimately, it is love. In the final part of the Jewish trilogy, the question was posed:
"Whom does the power you have save?"
The first story of Christianity offers an answer to that question. Power should exist for love. However, love here is not a weak emotion.
It is the strength to reach out to the sick, the courage to sit at the same table as the excluded, and the restraint to overcome the instinct to hate one's enemies. It is the humility of a high person washing the feet of a lowly one and the determination to give what one has for the sake of another life.
Abraham departed. Moses walked toward freedom. The prophets cried out for justice. The Jews held books and asked questions. And then, a man appeared in Galilee and said:
"Love."
Not just those closest to you. Love the stranger, love the least among you, and ultimately love your enemies. That was difficult 2,000 years ago.
It is even more challenging today.
Perhaps even as AI surpasses human knowledge and judgment, this will remain the most difficult task. Machines may surpass human intelligence, but whether they can take the place of humans in lowering themselves, forgiving, sharing, and loving remains uncertain.
Thus, as we enter an age of intelligence, the meaning of love becomes even more significant. Knowledge alone does not complete civilization. Power alone does not make humanity great.
Truth without love can become violence, justice without love can become revenge, and freedom without love can become another name for desire.
Jesus did not sit on a throne. He was crucified. He left no army. He left disciples. He left no wealth. He left questions.
"Whom do you love?"
That question began in Galilee, passed through Jerusalem to Rome, and crossed to Europe, Asia, Africa, and America.
Along that path, the church sometimes practiced love and sometimes betrayed it. It cared for the poor and sometimes allied with power. It made peace and sometimes participated in war.
Now we must meet the grand history of light and shadow over 2,000 years.
How did Jesus' love become the church? And an even more challenging question awaits. What happened when a religion that began with love gained power?
Christian Story Part 2 will begin with that question.
From Jerusalem to Rome. From persecution to empire. From one church to East and West. To Catholicism and Orthodoxy. And then to the Reformation and Protestantism.
When love becomes an institution and faith becomes civilization, humanity faces another test. The greatest achievements and the most painful mistakes of 2,000 years of Christian history lie along that path.
Ultimately, we must return to the first question Jesus left behind.
It is not about how high we have risen but how low we can love.
That is the task left for today's humanity by the revolution of love that began in Galilee.
* This article has been translated by AI.
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