Christianity without History-Centrism?

In his deliberations on Christianity, Mahatma Gandhi wrote in his Autobiography:

I could accept Jesus as a martyr, an embodiment of sacrifice, and a divine teacher, but not as the most perfect man ever born. His death on the Cross was a great example to the world, but that there was anything like a mysterious or miraculous virtue in it my heart could not accept.

Gandhi's point is that what is important is the message of Jesus.  Attaching mysterious or miraculous value to his historical aspects really do not have a place in faith.

Several Western scholars too struggled with the same issue of the centrality of history to Christian faith.

Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) Dunghill

In 1813, in a letter to John Adams, Jefferson wrote: 

"... We must reduce our volume to the simple evangelists, select, even from them, the very words only of Jesus, paring off the amphibologisms into which they have been led, by forgetting often, or not understanding, what had fallen from him, by giving their own misconceptions as his dicta, and expressing unintelligibly for others what they had not understood themselves. There will be found remaining the most sublime and benevolent code of morals which has ever been offered to man. I have performed this operation for my own use, by cutting verse by verse out of the printed book, and arranging the matter which is evidently his, and which is as easily distinguishable as diamonds in a dunghill."

Gotthold Lessing's (1729-1781) Ditch

The gulf between the historical and the eternal is "the ugly ditch which I cannot get across, however often and however earnestly I have tried to make the leap".

This gulf separated the contingent truths of history from the necessary truths of religion. And there is simply no way to span it from our side. Hence, no matter how probable one finds the Gospel accounts, they can never serve as the basis for knowing eternal truths.

Soren Kierkegaard’s (1813-1855) Leap

How can something of an historical nature be decisive for an eternal happiness?

Real history is unimportant compared to the belief that God appeared among us in the humble form of a servant, that he lived and taught in our community, and finally died. 

Only a “leap” of faith can place us beyond the historical into the spiritual Christ vs. Jesus. 

Even if you could prove the historicity of the Gospels in every detail, it would not necessarily bring one closer to Christ. Conversely, if the critics could disprove the historicity of the Gospels, save that a man lived in whom people believed God dwelt, it would not destroy the foundations of true faith.

Martin Kahler's (1835-1912) Historical/Historic Divide

Should we expect believers to rely on the authority of the learned men when the matter concerns the source from which they are to draw the truth for their lives?

I cannot find sure footing in probabilities or in a shifting mass of details, the reliability of which is constantly changing.

What we want to make absolutely clear is that ultimately we believe in Christ, not on account of any authority, but because he himself evokes such faith from us.

How can Jesus Christ be the real object of faith for all Christians if what and who he really was can be ascertained only by research methodologies so elaborate that only the scholarship of our time is adequate to the task?

Can we have Christian faith without History-Centrism? 

Why didn't these scholars succeed in changing Christianity to focus on the message in the words and life of Jesus and drop the centrality of mysteries and tying ones faith to historical aspects of those mysteries?

History-centrism is non-negotiable

Even as the Church insists on the importance of message in the words and life of Jesus, the centrality of the Christian faith is in the notion of salvation and in establishing the essence of following Jesus to achieve salvation. Thus, the essential nature of historical accounts of mysteries is not negotiable.

1 Corinthians 15:14-19

And if Christ has never been raised, then the message we tell is worth nothing. And your faith is worth nothing. And we will also be guilty of lying about God, because we have told people about him, saying that he raised Christ from death. And if no one is raised from death, then God never raised Christ from death. If those who have died are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised from death, then your faith is for nothing; you are still guilty of your sins. And those in Christ who have already died are lost. If our hope in Christ is only for this life here on earth, then people should feel more sorry for us than for anyone else.

Mahatma Gandhi's Autobiography on Christianity

Mahatma Gandhi categorically rejected two things about Christianity:  exclusivism and prosyletiziation.  Beyond these, he also had issues with the world-view that is too human-centric.  Following are excerpts from his autobiography.

Chapter 10: Glimpses of Religion

Only Christianity was at the time an exception. I developed a sort of dislike for it. And for a reason. In those days Christian missionaries used to stand in a corner near the high school and hold forth, pouring abuse on Hindus and their gods. I could not endure this. I must have stood there to hear them once only, but that was enough to dissuade me from repeating the experiment. About the same time, I heard of a well known Hindu having been converted to Christianity. It was the talk of the town that, when he was baptized, he had to eat beef and drink liquor, that he also had to change his clothes, and that thenceforth he began to go about in European costume including a hat. These things got on my nerves. Surely, thought I, a religion that compelled one to eat beef, drink liquor, and change one's own clothes did not deserve the  name. I also heard that the new convert had already begun abusing the religion of his ancestors, their customs and their country. All these things created in me a dislike for Christianity.

Chapter 36: Christian Contacts

The arguments advanced in it regarding the existence of God were unnecessary for me, as I had then passed the stage of unbelief; but the arguments in proof of Jesus being the only incarnation of God and the mediator between God and man left me unmoved.  

But Mr. Coates was not the man easily to accept defeat. He had great affection for me. He saw, round my neck, the Vaishnava necklace of Tulasi-beads. He thought it to be superstition and was pained by it. 'This superstition does not become you. Come, let me break the necklace.'  

'No, you will not. It is a sacred gift from my mother.'  'But do you believe in it?' 
 

'I do not know its mysterious significance. I do not think I should come to harm if I did not wear it. But I cannot, without sufficient reason, give up a necklace that she put round my neck out of love and in the conviction that it would be conducive to my welfare. When, with the passage of time, it wears away and breaks of its own accord. I shall have no desire to get a new one. But this necklace cannot be broken.'

Mr. Coates could not appreciate my argument, as he had no regard for my religion. He was looking forward to delivering me from the abyss of ignorance. He wanted to convince me that, no matter whether there was some truth in other religions, salvation was impossible for me unless I accepted Christianity which represented the truth, and that my sins would not be washed away except by the intercession of Jesus, and that all good works were useless. 

Just as he introduced me to several books, he introduced me to several friends whom he regarded as staunch Christians. One of these introductions was to a family which belonged to the Plymouth Brethren, a Christian sect.

Many of the contacts for which Mr. Coates was responsible were good. Most struck me as being God fearing. But during my contact with this family, one of the Plymouth Brethren confronted me with an argument for which I was not prepared:  'You cannot understand the beauty of our religion. From what you say it appears that you must be brooding over your transgressions every moment of your life, always mending them and atoning for them. How can this ceaseless cycle of action bring you redemption? You can never have peace. You admit that we are all sinners. Now look at the perfection of our belief. Our attempts at improvement and atonement are futile. And yet redemption we must have. How can we bear the burden of sin? We can out throw it on Jesus. He is the only sinless Son of God. It is His word that those who believe in Him shall have everlasting life. Therein lies God's infinite mercy. And as we believe in the atonement of Jesus, our own sins do not bind us. Sin we must, It is impossible to live in this world sinless. And therefore Jesus suffered and atoned for all the sins of mankind.  Only he who accepts His great redemption can have eternal peace. Think what a life of restlessness is yours, and what a promise of peace we have.' 

The argument utterly failed to convince me. I humbly replied:  'If this be the Christianity acknowledged by all Christians, I cannot accept it. I do not seek redemption from the consequences of my sin. I seek to be redeemed from sin itself, or rather from the very thought of sin. Until I have attained that end, I shall be content to be restless.'  

To which the Plymouth Brother rejoined: I assure you, your attempt is fruitless. Think again over what I have said.'  

And the brother proved as good as his word. he knowingly committed transgressions, and showed me that he was undisturbed by the thought of them.

Chapter 40: Religious Ferment

This Convention was an assemblage of devout Christians. I was delighted at their faith. I met the Rev. Murray. I saw that many were praying for me. I liked some of their hymns, they were very sweet.  

The Convention lasted for three days. I could understand and appreciate the devoutness of those who attended it. But I saw no reason for changing my belief my religion. It was impossible for me to believe that I could go to heaven or attain salvation only by becoming a Christian. When I frankly said so to some of the good Christian friends, they were shocked. But there was no help for it.  

My difficulties lay deeper. It was more than I could believe that Jesus was the only incarnate son of God, and that only he who believed in him would have everlasting life.

If God could have sons, all of us were His sons. If Jesus was like God, or God Himself, then all men were like God and could be God Himself.

My reason was not ready to believe literally that Jesus by his death and by his blood redeemed the sins of the world. Metaphorically there might be some truth in it. Again, according to Christianity only human beings had souls, and not other living beings, for whom death meant complete extinction; while I held a contrary belief.

I could accept Jesus as a martyr, an embodiment of sacrifice, and a divine teacher, but not as the most perfect man ever born. His death on the Cross was a great example to the world, but that there was anything like a mysterious or miraculous virtue in it my heart could not accept. 

The pious lives of Christians did not give me anything that the lives of men of other faiths had failed to give. I had seen in other lives just the same reformation that I had heard of among Christian principles.

From the point of view of sacrifice, it seemed to me that the Hindus greatly surpassed the Christians. It was impossible for me to regard Christianity as a perfect religion or the greatest of all religions.

Chapter 47: Comparative Study of Religions

My hostess was a good and simple woman, but somewhat narrow-minded. We always discussed religious subjects. I was then re-reading Arnold's Light of Asia. 

Once we began to compare the life of Jesus with that of Buddha. 'Look at Gautama's compassion!' said I. 'It was not confined to mankind, it was extended to all living beings. Does not one's heart overflow with love to think of the lamb joyously perched on his shoulders? One fails to notice this love for all living beings in the life of Jesus.'