In the beginning, God created... The introduction to the creation of all things is one of the most universally recalled stories from the book of Genesis. As the creation narrative (some call it a creation myth) goes along, with God calling into being light, water, and animals, God finishes, in Gen 1:26, by saying, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness." Humanity is thus created in the image of God, but there's a small question left in the plural pronouns God uses to refer to Godself. Let us in our according to our...
Bandstra writes that the "us" refers to the Divine Council, which was "thought to be the governing assembly of angelic beings that managed the world with God" (Bandstra, 43). Others have suggested that the plural reference is about God's trinitarian nature. Regardless, God references Godself in the plural often in the first 11 chapters of the book of Genesis. Here are some of those situations:
Gen 1:26 - Let us make humankind in our image
Gen 3:22 - See the man has become like one of us
Gen 11:7 - Come let us go down and confuse their language
But there is also a fair bit of description about this Divine Council scattered throughout the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures...
1 Kings 22:19-22: A "host of heaven" is seen standing to the right and left of God, various persons debating about who will do a specific task, before one of them volunteers; the Divine Council thus has some freedom of agency and opinion with respect to approaching God, acting on God's behalf, and departing from God's presence.
Deut 32:8-9: There as many nations of people as there are numbers of gods.
Psalm 82: The Divine Council is a place where God holds judgment - perhaps as 'chairperson' of this gathering; these gods are described as "children of the Most High" who are nevertheless mortals and shall die like humans.
Isaiah 6:8: God uses both singular and plural pronouns to refer to Godself - "Whom shall I send and who shall go for us?" Thus perhaps these angels or other gods are extensions of God's own identity/personhood/self.
Job 1:6 & 2:1: Here this body are referred to as "heavenly beings" and Satan, or the Accuser, comes among them; perhaps Satan is one of these angels/beings/Divine Council members. Additionally, the members come in front of God at various times - but it's not clear whether their comings and goings are ordered by God.
Psalm 29:1-2: "Heavenly beings" are directed in the psalm to join in the worship of God; this may be one of their important roles.
Job 38:7: This is another example of the heavenly beings or divine councilors worshiping God and singing praises in God's honor.
Psalm 89:6-7: Here the council or heavenly beings are noted to be "all around" God, not so much in the physical/proximate sense, but in the sense of status as "heavenly." They are said to be "in the skies" or perhaps thus on another plane/dimension or simply invisible to the human eye. Finally, they comprise a group of "holy ones" who, perhaps, sit en banc as a council. It is simply unclear what this council administers or decides.
With this description of the Divine Council in mind, it is pretty interesting to go back and understand the creation beginnings in light of God seeking this council's assistance/approval/feedback when it came time to create humanity. Bandstra suggests that "the act of creating humanity was deemed so momentous that God sought the approval and cooperation of the Divine Council" (Bandstra, p.43). With the enormity of the task ahead of "them," one can almost imagine God convening the Council of heavenly beings and other angelic figures. As they gathered from their realms and domains, I envision them standing in God's presence as God unveils God's plan for this new entity that would be created in their heavenly/angelic image, but who, as mortals, would exist on an entirely different plane of being - a different domain, and thus be subject to the frailties of life as we know it now. Nobody could have known then what God may have known would soon be in store for this new human race.
By 3:22, Adam and Eve had eaten of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and thus become even more resemblant of God and God's divine council: they know had a very specific knowledge, which presumably gave them even more agency to make decisions about how they would act and behave from then on. Such a development must not have been what was intended, because by 11:7, the council was creating plans to scurry their advancement and prevent this human race from becoming angelic or heavenly in their own ways. Of course, this fear would require that humans would be able to reach the next dimension or plane of existence for these heavenly beings; while such a step could be considered physically possible back when this narrative was created (i.e. the tower of Babel and reaching heaven), we use other language to describe the disconnect between our human and divine worlds/states of being.
Either way, it's quite interested to reflect on this group and their role as advisors/helpers to God in the creation of our human race today. Whether real or fiction, the story gives us added context to the ways that early nations made sense of their existence and even the primacy they assigned to their own identities vis-a-vis the rest of creation.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Week Ten: The Rape of Tamar
This week's post involves a very difficult story from 2 Samuel 13:1-33 (CEB): the rape of David's daughter Tamar by his son Amnon. The non-bolded text is my addition to the story (beginning in the fictive verse 19b), as I attempt to create context around the effect that this attack would likely have had on Tamar. Because of space limitations, but even moreso because I am a man, my narrative addition is a simplistic attempt to name some of the elements that would have come into play around this action. I offer some more reflection at the very bottom.
Some time later, David’s son Amnon fell in love with Tamar the beautiful sister of Absalom, who was also David’s son. 2 Amnon was so upset over his half sister that he made himself sick. She was a virgin, and it seemed impossible in Amnon’s view to do anything to her. 3 But Amnon had a friend named Jonadab, Shimeah’s son, David’s brother, who was a very clever man.
4 “Prince,” Jonadab said to him, “why are you so down, morning after morning? Tell me about it.”
So Amnon told him, “I’m in love with Tamar, the sister of my brother Absalom.”
5 “Lie down on your bed and pretend to be sick,” Jonadab said to him. “When your father comes to see you, tell him, ‘Please let my sister Tamar come and give me some food to eat. Let her prepare the food in my sight so I can watch and eat from her own hand.’”
6 So Amnon lay down and pretended to be sick. The king came to see him, and Amnon told the king, “Please let my sister Tamar come and make a couple of heart-shaped cakes in front of me so I can eat from her hand.”
7 David sent word to Tamar at the palace: “Please go to your brother Amnon’s house and prepare some food for him.”
8 So Tamar went to her brother Amnon’s house where he was lying down. She took dough, kneaded it, made heart-shaped cakes in front of him, and then cooked them. 9 She took the pan and served Amnon, but he refused to eat.
“Everyone leave me,” Amnon said. So everyone left him. 10 Then Amnon said to Tamar, “Bring the food into the bedroom so I can eat from your hand.” So Tamar took the heart-shaped cakes she had made and brought them to her brother Amnon in the bedroom. 11 When she served him the food, he grabbed her and said, “Come have sex with me, my sister.”
12 But she said to him, “No, my brother! Don’t rape me. Such a thing shouldn’t be done in Israel. Don’t do this horrible thing. 13 Think about me—where could I hide my shame? And you—you would become like some fool in Israel! Please, just talk to the king! He won’t keep me from marrying you.”
14 But Amnon refused to listen to her. He was stronger than she was, and so he raped her.
15 But then Amnon felt intense hatred for her. In fact, his hatred for her was greater than the love he had felt for her. So Amnon told her, “Get out of here!”
16 “No, my brother!”[a] she said. “Sending me away would be worse than the wrong you’ve already done.”
But Amnon wouldn’t listen to her. 17 He summoned his young servant and said, “Get this woman out of my presence and lock the door after her.” (18 She was wearing a long-sleeved robe because that was what the virgin princesses wore as garments.)[b] So Amnon’s servant put her out and locked the door after her.
19 Tamar put ashes on her head and tore the long-sleeved robe she was wearing. She put her hand on her head and walked away, crying as she went.
19b. As she walked, people in neighboring homes heard her distress and came to their windows to see what thing could cause such wailing from a person. “Is she drunk with wine in the afternoon?” asked the village women as Tamar stumbled along the dusty path back toward Absalom’s house. As Tamar slowly passed them by, a dark spot was visible on the back of her robe, her shame became clear. That’s when the gossip began.
Approaching Absalom’s home, Tamar stopped crying and began to compose herself. “If I enter my brother’s home now, my shame will be revealed to his family, and he will be consumed by rage. It is better for me that I should just die than to bring this shame upon my family’s name.” After uttering these words to herself, Tamar turned around and began walking toward the edge of town, her heart heavy with a self-imposed responsibility to protect her and her family’s reputation.
Later, as the sun began to set that night, Absalom asked his other sisters if Tamar had returned home. Nobody having heard from her, Absalom sent a servant to Amnon’s home to collect her and bring her back. As the servant approached Amnon’s home, he noticed that the door was shut, and trying to open it, found it locked. So he began to call out for a servant to come and open it.
Amnon’s servants approached their master’s room, gently calling to him, “Prince, come, your brother has sent a servant to collect his sister Tamar. What shall we tell them?” After hearing no answer they rushed into Amnon’s room and found him disconsolately weeping. As Amnon sat up on his bed, his servants saw that his neck was bruised. “Send the servant away, telling him that Tamar returned home earlier this afternoon.” As the servants turned to exit the room, they saw a broken rope tied to a hook in the ceiling.
Returning to Absalom’s house, the servant gave a full report based on what he had seen and what Amnon’s servants had told him. Absalom, feeling his heart sink, immediately suspected the worst. The rumors that he had heard from Jonadab about Amnon’s infatuation with an unspoken woman suddenly clicked. Donning his tunic, Absalom darted out of the house and ran toward the town’s edge.
The next morning, as the village women gathered at the well, they began to share stories of what they had seen. “I saw the Princess drunkenly stumbling along the road. What loose morals!” said one. Another challenged her saying “Why would the princess be tearing at her virginal vestments? I think someone attacked her. I what a blood stain looks like when I see it,” said a third woman. “But she was coming from her own brother’s home,” retorted a fourth. “Would such an act of evil…” Suddenly, interrupted by the appearance of Tamar, still dirty and garments torn, being supported by Absalom as the two approached the well on the way back into town, the woman slowly finished her thought: “be capable of one of King David’s own sons?”
20 Her brother Absalom said to her, “Has your brother Amnon been with you? Keep quiet about it for now, sister; he’s your brother. Don’t let it bother you.” So Tamar, a broken woman, lived in her brother Absalom’s house.
21 When King David heard about all this he got very angry, but he refused to punish his son Amnon because he loved him as his oldest child.[c] 22 Absalom never spoke to Amnon, good word or bad, because he hated him for raping his sister Tamar.
Absalom kills Amnon
23 Two years later, Absalom was shearing sheep at Baal-hazor near Ephraim, and he invited all the king’s sons. 24 Absalom approached the king and said, “Your servant is shearing sheep. Would the king and his advisors please join me?”
25 But the king said to Absalom, “No, my son. We shouldn’t all go, or we would be a burden on you.” Although Absalom urged him, the king wasn’t willing to go, although he gave Absalom a blessing.
26 Then Absalom said, “If you won’t come, then let my brother Amnon go with us.”
“Why should he go with you?” they asked him. 27 But Absalom urged him until he sent Amnon and all the other princes. Then Absalom made a banquet fit for a king.[d]
28 Absalom commanded his servants, “Be on the lookout! When Amnon is happy with wine and I tell you to strike Amnon down, then kill him! Don’t be afraid, because I myself am giving you the order. Be brave and strong men.” 29 So Absalom’s servants did to Amnon just what he had commanded. Then all the princes got up, jumped onto their mules, and fled.
30 While they were on the way, the report came to David: “Absalom has killed all of the princes! Not one remains.” 31 The king got up, tore his garments, and lay on the ground. All his servants stood near him, their garments torn as well. 32 But Jonadab, the son of David’s brother Shimeah, said, “My master shouldn’t think that all the young princes have been killed—only Amnon is dead. This has been Absalom’s plan ever since the day Amnon raped his sister Tamar. 33 So don’t let this bother you, my master; don’t think that all the princes are dead, because only Amnon is dead,
Clearly, Amnon's rape of his sister was a sinful and evil thing to do - not only before God, but in their own context and within their family. Even a woman of some status like Tamar was probably unable to ever shake off the stain that his action placed on her - even after his death and even despite the fact that she was the victim of a heinous crime. What's even more powerfully upsetting, and something I couldn't even begin to unpack, was her plea that Amnon not cast her off because then she would truly have no hope for a future.
Hilary Lipka addresses some of these difficult themes in her article on David and Bathsheba. She writes that, in the accounting of her affair with King David, there is no indication of what "Bathsheba is thinking or feeling" (Lipka). Many have concluded that she must have known that David was watching, and thus she was complicit in their adultery. This is a convenient conclusion, and one that Deborah Rooke might blame on the inequity with how the Hebrew scriptures treat adultery: "Men did not have to be faithful to one woman. They could have more than one wife (Deut 21:15), and even for married men, sleeping with unmarried or unbetrothed women did not count as adultery (Exod 22:16-17, Deut 22:28-29" (Rooke). Citing several examples of all this, she concludes with an example from the New Testament, when this motif of blaming women for the sexual violence enacted against them was the only adultery example in Jesus' narratives. She writes "Clearly, in the male-focused world of the Bible, all adultery was a crime, but adulterous women were seen as much more dangerous and subversive than adulterous men" (Rooke).
Taken with Rooke and Lipka's assessments of the disparities and inequity with how these stories are told, I felt like it was an important responsibility to demonstrate that sexual violence is the fault of perpetrators. Period. These are very difficult verses, and I can only hope that Amnon recognized the weight of his sin and the life-shattering impact it had on an important woman in his family's life. While I suggest that his own guilt may have driven him to suicidal thoughts, I don't insert that to try to alleviate his actions or explain them away. His sin speaks for itself; my only hope for his humanity is that he, at some point, was able to acknowledge the evil he did.
Some time later, David’s son Amnon fell in love with Tamar the beautiful sister of Absalom, who was also David’s son. 2 Amnon was so upset over his half sister that he made himself sick. She was a virgin, and it seemed impossible in Amnon’s view to do anything to her. 3 But Amnon had a friend named Jonadab, Shimeah’s son, David’s brother, who was a very clever man.
4 “Prince,” Jonadab said to him, “why are you so down, morning after morning? Tell me about it.”
So Amnon told him, “I’m in love with Tamar, the sister of my brother Absalom.”
5 “Lie down on your bed and pretend to be sick,” Jonadab said to him. “When your father comes to see you, tell him, ‘Please let my sister Tamar come and give me some food to eat. Let her prepare the food in my sight so I can watch and eat from her own hand.’”
6 So Amnon lay down and pretended to be sick. The king came to see him, and Amnon told the king, “Please let my sister Tamar come and make a couple of heart-shaped cakes in front of me so I can eat from her hand.”
7 David sent word to Tamar at the palace: “Please go to your brother Amnon’s house and prepare some food for him.”
8 So Tamar went to her brother Amnon’s house where he was lying down. She took dough, kneaded it, made heart-shaped cakes in front of him, and then cooked them. 9 She took the pan and served Amnon, but he refused to eat.
“Everyone leave me,” Amnon said. So everyone left him. 10 Then Amnon said to Tamar, “Bring the food into the bedroom so I can eat from your hand.” So Tamar took the heart-shaped cakes she had made and brought them to her brother Amnon in the bedroom. 11 When she served him the food, he grabbed her and said, “Come have sex with me, my sister.”
12 But she said to him, “No, my brother! Don’t rape me. Such a thing shouldn’t be done in Israel. Don’t do this horrible thing. 13 Think about me—where could I hide my shame? And you—you would become like some fool in Israel! Please, just talk to the king! He won’t keep me from marrying you.”
14 But Amnon refused to listen to her. He was stronger than she was, and so he raped her.
15 But then Amnon felt intense hatred for her. In fact, his hatred for her was greater than the love he had felt for her. So Amnon told her, “Get out of here!”
16 “No, my brother!”[a] she said. “Sending me away would be worse than the wrong you’ve already done.”
But Amnon wouldn’t listen to her. 17 He summoned his young servant and said, “Get this woman out of my presence and lock the door after her.” (18 She was wearing a long-sleeved robe because that was what the virgin princesses wore as garments.)[b] So Amnon’s servant put her out and locked the door after her.
19 Tamar put ashes on her head and tore the long-sleeved robe she was wearing. She put her hand on her head and walked away, crying as she went.
19b. As she walked, people in neighboring homes heard her distress and came to their windows to see what thing could cause such wailing from a person. “Is she drunk with wine in the afternoon?” asked the village women as Tamar stumbled along the dusty path back toward Absalom’s house. As Tamar slowly passed them by, a dark spot was visible on the back of her robe, her shame became clear. That’s when the gossip began.
Approaching Absalom’s home, Tamar stopped crying and began to compose herself. “If I enter my brother’s home now, my shame will be revealed to his family, and he will be consumed by rage. It is better for me that I should just die than to bring this shame upon my family’s name.” After uttering these words to herself, Tamar turned around and began walking toward the edge of town, her heart heavy with a self-imposed responsibility to protect her and her family’s reputation.
Later, as the sun began to set that night, Absalom asked his other sisters if Tamar had returned home. Nobody having heard from her, Absalom sent a servant to Amnon’s home to collect her and bring her back. As the servant approached Amnon’s home, he noticed that the door was shut, and trying to open it, found it locked. So he began to call out for a servant to come and open it.
Amnon’s servants approached their master’s room, gently calling to him, “Prince, come, your brother has sent a servant to collect his sister Tamar. What shall we tell them?” After hearing no answer they rushed into Amnon’s room and found him disconsolately weeping. As Amnon sat up on his bed, his servants saw that his neck was bruised. “Send the servant away, telling him that Tamar returned home earlier this afternoon.” As the servants turned to exit the room, they saw a broken rope tied to a hook in the ceiling.
Returning to Absalom’s house, the servant gave a full report based on what he had seen and what Amnon’s servants had told him. Absalom, feeling his heart sink, immediately suspected the worst. The rumors that he had heard from Jonadab about Amnon’s infatuation with an unspoken woman suddenly clicked. Donning his tunic, Absalom darted out of the house and ran toward the town’s edge.
The next morning, as the village women gathered at the well, they began to share stories of what they had seen. “I saw the Princess drunkenly stumbling along the road. What loose morals!” said one. Another challenged her saying “Why would the princess be tearing at her virginal vestments? I think someone attacked her. I what a blood stain looks like when I see it,” said a third woman. “But she was coming from her own brother’s home,” retorted a fourth. “Would such an act of evil…” Suddenly, interrupted by the appearance of Tamar, still dirty and garments torn, being supported by Absalom as the two approached the well on the way back into town, the woman slowly finished her thought: “be capable of one of King David’s own sons?”
20 Her brother Absalom said to her, “Has your brother Amnon been with you? Keep quiet about it for now, sister; he’s your brother. Don’t let it bother you.” So Tamar, a broken woman, lived in her brother Absalom’s house.
21 When King David heard about all this he got very angry, but he refused to punish his son Amnon because he loved him as his oldest child.[c] 22 Absalom never spoke to Amnon, good word or bad, because he hated him for raping his sister Tamar.
Absalom kills Amnon
23 Two years later, Absalom was shearing sheep at Baal-hazor near Ephraim, and he invited all the king’s sons. 24 Absalom approached the king and said, “Your servant is shearing sheep. Would the king and his advisors please join me?”
25 But the king said to Absalom, “No, my son. We shouldn’t all go, or we would be a burden on you.” Although Absalom urged him, the king wasn’t willing to go, although he gave Absalom a blessing.
26 Then Absalom said, “If you won’t come, then let my brother Amnon go with us.”
“Why should he go with you?” they asked him. 27 But Absalom urged him until he sent Amnon and all the other princes. Then Absalom made a banquet fit for a king.[d]
28 Absalom commanded his servants, “Be on the lookout! When Amnon is happy with wine and I tell you to strike Amnon down, then kill him! Don’t be afraid, because I myself am giving you the order. Be brave and strong men.” 29 So Absalom’s servants did to Amnon just what he had commanded. Then all the princes got up, jumped onto their mules, and fled.
30 While they were on the way, the report came to David: “Absalom has killed all of the princes! Not one remains.” 31 The king got up, tore his garments, and lay on the ground. All his servants stood near him, their garments torn as well. 32 But Jonadab, the son of David’s brother Shimeah, said, “My master shouldn’t think that all the young princes have been killed—only Amnon is dead. This has been Absalom’s plan ever since the day Amnon raped his sister Tamar. 33 So don’t let this bother you, my master; don’t think that all the princes are dead, because only Amnon is dead,
Clearly, Amnon's rape of his sister was a sinful and evil thing to do - not only before God, but in their own context and within their family. Even a woman of some status like Tamar was probably unable to ever shake off the stain that his action placed on her - even after his death and even despite the fact that she was the victim of a heinous crime. What's even more powerfully upsetting, and something I couldn't even begin to unpack, was her plea that Amnon not cast her off because then she would truly have no hope for a future.
Hilary Lipka addresses some of these difficult themes in her article on David and Bathsheba. She writes that, in the accounting of her affair with King David, there is no indication of what "Bathsheba is thinking or feeling" (Lipka). Many have concluded that she must have known that David was watching, and thus she was complicit in their adultery. This is a convenient conclusion, and one that Deborah Rooke might blame on the inequity with how the Hebrew scriptures treat adultery: "Men did not have to be faithful to one woman. They could have more than one wife (Deut 21:15), and even for married men, sleeping with unmarried or unbetrothed women did not count as adultery (Exod 22:16-17, Deut 22:28-29" (Rooke). Citing several examples of all this, she concludes with an example from the New Testament, when this motif of blaming women for the sexual violence enacted against them was the only adultery example in Jesus' narratives. She writes "Clearly, in the male-focused world of the Bible, all adultery was a crime, but adulterous women were seen as much more dangerous and subversive than adulterous men" (Rooke).
Taken with Rooke and Lipka's assessments of the disparities and inequity with how these stories are told, I felt like it was an important responsibility to demonstrate that sexual violence is the fault of perpetrators. Period. These are very difficult verses, and I can only hope that Amnon recognized the weight of his sin and the life-shattering impact it had on an important woman in his family's life. While I suggest that his own guilt may have driven him to suicidal thoughts, I don't insert that to try to alleviate his actions or explain them away. His sin speaks for itself; my only hope for his humanity is that he, at some point, was able to acknowledge the evil he did.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Week 9: Vengeance, Women, & the Emergence of Israel
A poetic scene of battle extolling the leadership of the early Israelite leader Deborah is told in Judges 5:2-31. Reading the poem in its own light and analyzing it as a primary source, we can learn a lot about how and why it was written, even if the historicity of the events told in the poem is questionable.
1) Who is the author and when did they write?
Frankly, we do not know who the author of the text is. The structure of the poem makes it look like it is written by a witness to the victories that Israel was able to achieve in the Transjordan region after their decades of wandering. Of course, we have to bear in mind that, despite the suspected age of this account (it is considered to be among the oldest of recovered Old Testament literature, according to Dennis T. Olson, New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, vol. 2, p.787), according to Carol Meyers, “the biblical narratives about ancient Israel reached their final form many centuries after the events they describe. The narrators were not eyewitnesses to events they recount.” (Meyers, “Does the Bible Relate to History”)
The author describes the land shaking when the Lord “set out from Seir” and “marched out from Edom’s fields” (Judges 5:4a). The time period when this would have happened would likely refer to history after Esau’s residence in Edom as described in Genesis, the capital of which was Mt Seir (c.f. Transjordan Territory of Edom). The author clearly could not have known what happened at that time, because the author could not have been there. But the point that s/he is making could be related to the fact that, in that example from Genesis, Esau goes to live there with the Canaanite woman he married; in leaving that place many, many years later, the response of nature was to reject the events that took place there – perhaps chiefly among them the intermarriage of an Israelite with a Canaanite.
2) How has the author brought her/his own bias to the event they are recounting?
Meyers suggests that, “Like other ancient storytellers, the shapers of biblical narratives were not concerned with getting it factually right; rather, their aim was to make an important point.” (Meyers, “Does the Bible Relate to History”). Paula McNutt argues for the same point: “The "history" recorded in the biblical narratives, whether they contain accurate information or not, should be understood first and foremost as representing notions and beliefs constructed to serve some purpose in the social and historical contexts in which they were written, edited, and arranged in their present form.” (McNutt, “Reconstructing the Society of Ancient Israel”).
With this in mind, it is helpful to use a critical eye when reading verses 12-18, when the author celebrates the tribes who fought against the Canaanites and pillories those tribes who did not. It may be that the author was a member of one of the brave tribes, like from Zebulun – “a people that readily risked death” presumably for the sake of Israel’s future (Judges 5:18). Another piece to consider is that the author may have been a woman – or at least someone with an interest in showcasing the successes of women and Israel’s dependence on their leadership and action (e.g. Deborah and Jael).
3) Who is the intended audience for whom the author writes?
While the story, as written, could be interpreted as a panegyric to God, extolling God for protecting the people and leading them in victory against the “enemies” they confronted in Canaan (Judges 5:31a), it seems likely to also be a victory hymn celebrating key Israelite leaders for their military prowess and success defeating their enemies. As such, it is likely written with an audience of Israelite hearers in mind, who will listen to the awe-inspiring accounts of their early leaders and be reminded both of the greatness of their nation and the greatness of their God who led them this far.
4) What symbolism or metaphor is at work in the writing?
There is tremendously powerful metaphor evidenced throughout the piece, but none so as extreme as the story of Jael assassinating the Canannite general Sisera while he slept in her tent. In verses 26 and 27, after Sisera has entered Jael’s tent, which may be a metaphor for rape or sex, he falls asleep. Jael takes the opportunity to grab a stake and mallet and drives it through Sisera’s temple. In verse 27, the poetry is repetitive: “at her feet he sank, fell and lay flat; at her feet he sank, h fell; where he sank, there he fell – dead.” The phrase ‘at her feet’ is a play on words with strong connotations of sexual activity, but here it is Sisera that has been on the receiving (and losing) end of the sexual activity (i.e. rape) at the hands of a woman, Jael. What’s more, in the following verses, as Sisera’s mother waits at the window waiting for her son, she wonders aloud whether the delay in his return is because of the conquests of war: “a girl or two for each warrior” (Judges 5:30a). While only one example of symbolism, the point is a strong one: Israel has turned the tables on these erstwhile stronger opponents and, in contravention of the conventional logic that they would be overcome again, has defeated the Canaanites and made them the victims in this most salacious way.
5) In context of your study of history, what does this text teach you?
On the whole, the text is a pretty powerful series of contrasts about Israel vis-Ã -vis its wars and encounters with its neighbors. First, throughout this poem, Israel’s benefactors almost wholly come from outside Israel: first God and then Jael (the wife of a Kenite, not an Israelite). For whatever reason, this victory hymn celebrates outsiders as much as it celebrates only some of the tribes who actually fought. Second, the poem is a pretty significant celebration of violence, which is problematic for a reader in today’s context – especially a reader such as myself, whose Christian beliefs are predicated on peace, forgiveness, and reconciliation. Themes of rape (vs 27), making war (v19), and marching with might (v21) stand at the polar opposite of my own understanding. And yet, these were clearly necessary evils that Israel had to experience and to bear in order to establish itself as a nation and create an environment where belief in Yahweh and practice of their ethnic customs could take hold. For me, this is not an easy concept to grasp and accept, and yet it is a tension that exists and must be confronted.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Week 8: Curse v Blessing
One of the enduring “problems” I have with the Old Testament is the version of God that is presented as simultaneously jealous and open, spiteful and forgiving, and mean and loving. Consider Deuteronomy. At the outset of the passage (Deuteronomy 28:1-68), it really feels like God is with the people, promising blessings of abundance in both resources and progeny if the people will simply obey God’s laws. The people are told they will be “the head, not the tail” in verse 13, which is in reference to the people’s establishment as God’s holy people. In other words, obedience to God guarantees military supremacy and regional geo-political stability.
But immediately afterward, God makes clear the punishment for disobedience, and it’s the exact opposite of the assured blessings. In addition to the threat of being conquered by foreign powers, the threat of a loss of progeny seems to be even more pronounced. First, the women betrothed to Israelite men will be raped (v30), thus rendering them unsuitable for marriage and motherhood. Second, the people’s children will be sold off to other nations (v32), thus eliminating the current “next” generation of leaders. God is capable of exacting blessing and curse; what you get is conditioned on how you behave. This is part of the Deuteronomic Theme that Bandstra explains as "four arcs of sin, punishment, repentance, and deliverance" that make sense of Israel's history of ups and downs and "provide a measure of control over the future" (Bandstra, 192).
Morally, this conception is profoundly troubling because explicit acts of God’s love are predicated on correct action first by the people. Deviation from this doesn’t just remove one from the prosperity; it actively guarantees that God will work against you. This is morally very dangerous ground to be walking in. Obedience and love borne out of fear are not the same as obedience and love freely given. Can you imagine your parents setting a curfew and then saying that if you fail to get home by midnight, you’ll be sold into slavery!?! Such a punishment is completely devoid of love – it’s retributory instead of restoring. It seeks to break down instead of make whole.
Seemingly in response, the “former prophets” try to explain why God would conditionalize God’s favor in this way. In Joshua 23:1-16, the author grounds his message in a sense of nationalistic fear (not unlike Donald Trump today!). By intermingling with other nations, there is a real threat that they will eventually fall prey to worshipping their gods and losing their identity in Yhwh. The author goes so far in verse 13 to suggest that, if the people do intermarry, God won’t protect them anymore. The laws against intermarriage reflect the need among leaders and authors of these texts to ensure that the Israelite line remains strong – that it isn’t watered down, so to speak, by marrying outside their own ethnic group.
To address this fear in other ways, the Israelites demanded a king, which in 1 Samuel becomes another sticking point for the people to (re)prove their faithfulness to Yhwh. In 1 Samuel 12:1-25, the prophet Samuel impugns the people’s faithfulness because they asked for a king “even though the Lord [their] God was [their] king” (1 Sam 12:12). The problem that Samuel was pointing out to the people was that they continually forget who God is to them – remembering God only in their times of trouble, but quickly forgetting Yhwh once their pressing needs have been addressed. Similarly, but in an even more pronounced failing in 2 Kings 17:5-18 and 2 Chronicles 36:11-21, the people have actually ignored the words of the prophets who were sent to remind the people about God’s love and invite the people back into relationship with God. The result was these kingdoms eradication from society through being conquered and enslaved.
The message is clear: when Yhwh’s chosen people refused to honor their covenant with God thus failing to be obedient to God’s laws, they received extreme punishments: rape, pillage, enslavement, poverty, sickness, and murder. Sound like a God you’d want to worship, or one you’d worship only out of fear? It’s incredibly disingenuous to read Samuel’s exhortation to “consider what good God’s done, so be faithful” (1 Sam 12:24) in one breath, and then a warning that everyone will perish if they aren’t faithful in the next. Moreover, a close reading of these last three passages makes clear that these proscriptions against idolatrousness are based in “the sake of God’s great name” (1 Sam 12:22). God’s own pride and identity are at stake when people fail to heed God’s word and obey God’s law.
These texts use blessing/curse language in ways that demonstrate the fundamental fears of the people at the time these texts were written: fears of military subjugation, inability to procreate, and the loss of their Israelite ethnic lineage. I don’t personally believe that the former prophets were faithfully representing the full nature and love of the God I know. In light of the latter prophets message of faith in action through justice and mercy and caring for the poor, we see the Israelites’ understanding of God start to shift toward less black/white or blessing/curse dichotomies and toward a more dynamic understanding of the complexity of living in relationship with God.
Ultimately, I think Samuel starts to get these prophets to start thinking more about it in this way. He clarifies that the punishments threatened for non-compliance with the law do not mean that God has rejected God’s people. The writers of Kings and Chronicles also offer some hope that the Davidic line will be restored one day. Samuel reminds them, “the Lord was pleased to make you God’s own” (1 Sam 12:22). God’s people did not opt in to the relationship; they were chosen by God for a reason. This exceptionalism guides the leaders’ use of language and prophecy to enforce behavioral standards that guarantee a strong and prosperous ethnic line. Unfortunately for them, however, the flip side of this language and identity mean that, as far the authors of these pronouncements are concerned, they are not able to opt-out of the relationship either.
While problematic, these texts do give us great insight into the contextual worries and fears that confronted the Israelites millennia ago. They are some of the same fears that our own country wrestles with. God help us that we don’t continue to conflate success with God’s blessing and sickness and struggles with God’s absence, for it is in those times especially that we are called to be our most faithful selves and to trust in God.
But immediately afterward, God makes clear the punishment for disobedience, and it’s the exact opposite of the assured blessings. In addition to the threat of being conquered by foreign powers, the threat of a loss of progeny seems to be even more pronounced. First, the women betrothed to Israelite men will be raped (v30), thus rendering them unsuitable for marriage and motherhood. Second, the people’s children will be sold off to other nations (v32), thus eliminating the current “next” generation of leaders. God is capable of exacting blessing and curse; what you get is conditioned on how you behave. This is part of the Deuteronomic Theme that Bandstra explains as "four arcs of sin, punishment, repentance, and deliverance" that make sense of Israel's history of ups and downs and "provide a measure of control over the future" (Bandstra, 192).
Morally, this conception is profoundly troubling because explicit acts of God’s love are predicated on correct action first by the people. Deviation from this doesn’t just remove one from the prosperity; it actively guarantees that God will work against you. This is morally very dangerous ground to be walking in. Obedience and love borne out of fear are not the same as obedience and love freely given. Can you imagine your parents setting a curfew and then saying that if you fail to get home by midnight, you’ll be sold into slavery!?! Such a punishment is completely devoid of love – it’s retributory instead of restoring. It seeks to break down instead of make whole.
Seemingly in response, the “former prophets” try to explain why God would conditionalize God’s favor in this way. In Joshua 23:1-16, the author grounds his message in a sense of nationalistic fear (not unlike Donald Trump today!). By intermingling with other nations, there is a real threat that they will eventually fall prey to worshipping their gods and losing their identity in Yhwh. The author goes so far in verse 13 to suggest that, if the people do intermarry, God won’t protect them anymore. The laws against intermarriage reflect the need among leaders and authors of these texts to ensure that the Israelite line remains strong – that it isn’t watered down, so to speak, by marrying outside their own ethnic group.
To address this fear in other ways, the Israelites demanded a king, which in 1 Samuel becomes another sticking point for the people to (re)prove their faithfulness to Yhwh. In 1 Samuel 12:1-25, the prophet Samuel impugns the people’s faithfulness because they asked for a king “even though the Lord [their] God was [their] king” (1 Sam 12:12). The problem that Samuel was pointing out to the people was that they continually forget who God is to them – remembering God only in their times of trouble, but quickly forgetting Yhwh once their pressing needs have been addressed. Similarly, but in an even more pronounced failing in 2 Kings 17:5-18 and 2 Chronicles 36:11-21, the people have actually ignored the words of the prophets who were sent to remind the people about God’s love and invite the people back into relationship with God. The result was these kingdoms eradication from society through being conquered and enslaved.
The message is clear: when Yhwh’s chosen people refused to honor their covenant with God thus failing to be obedient to God’s laws, they received extreme punishments: rape, pillage, enslavement, poverty, sickness, and murder. Sound like a God you’d want to worship, or one you’d worship only out of fear? It’s incredibly disingenuous to read Samuel’s exhortation to “consider what good God’s done, so be faithful” (1 Sam 12:24) in one breath, and then a warning that everyone will perish if they aren’t faithful in the next. Moreover, a close reading of these last three passages makes clear that these proscriptions against idolatrousness are based in “the sake of God’s great name” (1 Sam 12:22). God’s own pride and identity are at stake when people fail to heed God’s word and obey God’s law.
These texts use blessing/curse language in ways that demonstrate the fundamental fears of the people at the time these texts were written: fears of military subjugation, inability to procreate, and the loss of their Israelite ethnic lineage. I don’t personally believe that the former prophets were faithfully representing the full nature and love of the God I know. In light of the latter prophets message of faith in action through justice and mercy and caring for the poor, we see the Israelites’ understanding of God start to shift toward less black/white or blessing/curse dichotomies and toward a more dynamic understanding of the complexity of living in relationship with God.
Ultimately, I think Samuel starts to get these prophets to start thinking more about it in this way. He clarifies that the punishments threatened for non-compliance with the law do not mean that God has rejected God’s people. The writers of Kings and Chronicles also offer some hope that the Davidic line will be restored one day. Samuel reminds them, “the Lord was pleased to make you God’s own” (1 Sam 12:22). God’s people did not opt in to the relationship; they were chosen by God for a reason. This exceptionalism guides the leaders’ use of language and prophecy to enforce behavioral standards that guarantee a strong and prosperous ethnic line. Unfortunately for them, however, the flip side of this language and identity mean that, as far the authors of these pronouncements are concerned, they are not able to opt-out of the relationship either.
While problematic, these texts do give us great insight into the contextual worries and fears that confronted the Israelites millennia ago. They are some of the same fears that our own country wrestles with. God help us that we don’t continue to conflate success with God’s blessing and sickness and struggles with God’s absence, for it is in those times especially that we are called to be our most faithful selves and to trust in God.
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Week 7: Messianic SigFigs
March 19, 2016
Dear T,
I’ve been thinking about you lately and wondering whether you’re “the one.” I know, I know… it’s a little early for all of that, but my mind has a tendency to escape the chaos of the present moment in favor of organizing the future into picket fences and lakeside retirement cottages. This week in my Old Testament course materials, I’ve been reading about the prophets of the post-exilic era (the mid-500s BCE) after the Hebrew people from the Judean (southern) kingdom had been carted off to Babylon only to see their fortunes reversed when the Persians conquered the erstwhile invaders. I imagine the Judeans/Israelites/Hebrews/Jews (whatever you want to call them) were a lot like me – trying to make sense of the chaos of their present moment by daydreaming about a future that is very much yet to come.
They might have been like me in another way, too: searching for “the one.” They were searching for a person to come and deliver, liberate, and restore them, in the words of my Professor. They were hoping for an anointed one, sent by their God (Yahweh), to do all of this. In a word, they were looking for a messiah. And that word has a lot of theological significance, referring as it does to a leader appointed and protected by God for the purpose of serving God’s people (Fried). Don’t worry – I don’t have nearly the same expectations of you!
Before King David (who was definitely the messiah for a time), priests and prophets were anointed of God and thus messiahs, like Elijah and his prophet successor Elisha, the high priest before him, and the kings who succeeded them (Fried). After David, every king (with very few exceptions) was anointed of God by the prophets, and thus became the messiah. In much of the prophetic tradition, (c.f. Ezekiel, 34:23-24) the messiah is expected to be someone who can unite the two nations of Judah and Israel. Naturally, this person should be a king from the line of David (Stanley, p.460). And yet, as it turns out, that’s not at all what happened.
What’s so interesting about the people’s hope and desperation is that, for the first time in the history recorded by the Hebrew Scriptures, “the one” they hoped to be their messiah-deliverer was an outsider – a non-Jew, a foreigner (LESTER). In the book of Isaiah, the prophet actually declares that Cyrus, a Persian emperor, is God’s messiah (Isaiah 45:1-7). [Note: Messiah literally means “anointed one” (Fried)]. This is a big deal, because the title messiah has always referred to a ruler of Judah, or the southern Kingdom (Fried). And yet, here they were in the mid-500s, after decades of misery, living alone in a foreign place, that they thought they had found the one. Cyrus the Persian (Fried), a warrior-king rapidly expanding his empire by defeating neighboring nations, had overcome the Babylonian empire. For the Hebrew people, the misery was bad enough that they were perfectly willing to set aside some of the prophetic expectation that the messiah would be an Israelite like them.
I guess this is where practicality comes in handy for making sense of the disconnect between the theological and prophetic expectations and the reality of a messy world (pay attention, this could apply to us). Practically speaking, the messiah had one important role: restoration. That’s right – the messiah really only (as if it were easy) needed to restore a lost people to the place where they feel complete and at home. Frankly, with that practical expectation in mind, it shouldn’t matter the nationality of the messiah. And with the misery and messiness that defined their life in exile, it’s no surprise that messiah theology could be co-opted by the people out of their own self-interest to apply to a foreign king. Heck, it happened with the pharaohs in Egypt (Fried) and in Babylon itself. And, if it’s true that the Jews were pretty polytheistic people, there had to be some amount of thinking, on the part of priests and proletariat, that Cyrus and his marauding band had the local gods on their side. Messiah: anointed by god, not just G-d (Fried).
In terms of fulfilling the messianic mandate, Cyrus didn’t do half bad. Measured against Moses, in fact, he did pretty well. Remember, the people already had a great example by which to measure their new messiah: their exodus from Egypt under Moses. My professor made an interesting observation about the parallels between the Egyptian and Babylonian exiles: in both cases, while the Israelites’ iniquities might have predicated their capitulation to foreign invaders, their continued enslavement was a product not of their faults (Lester). In a sense, despite restitution having already been made for their sins, they were still being held, necessitating not “repentance, forgiveness, or restitution, rather in their persecution, vindication and restoration” (Lester). Vindication and restoration were thus the actions required of Cyrus the Persian Messiah, anointed by some god, used by God (Yahweh), to deliver the people from this bondage. Seeing it clearly, the prophet Isaiah named Cyrus thusly (Isa 45:1), and when the people were given their permission to return to Jerusalem and restore their lives, the prophecy was fulfilled.
Considering the exile, the deportation, the loss of life, and the utter ruin of the Judean kingdom, it would be impossible to be a Jew who still believed that Jerusalem was invulnerable to outside influence (Bandstra, 340). That also means it’s likely that people were starting to adopt new theological interpretations about who the messiah could be. Interestingly, though, the interpretation and expectation about what the messiah would do didn’t change very much at all.
Ultimately, restoring of the people offered them a renewed relationship with Yahweh. And this is I guess why I brought you up to begin with. Don’t worry: I’m not expecting you to save me from anything (except maybe loneliness in old age, if it comes to that). I’ve never had a clear idea of who “the one” would be, but I’ve always known what it is I expect the “one” to do (don’t worry, it has nothing to do with vindication or restoration). For me, it’s about offering complementarity and, through partnership, a fuller and deeper knowledge of, and relationship with, the love of God. So, while I still think it’s strange to attach any messianic meaning to you at this point, I’m faithful that my “one” (if it’s you) will offer the same restoration of relationship with God that the Hebrew messiah has offered the Israelites for centuries.
Til soon!
Alex
Dear T,
I’ve been thinking about you lately and wondering whether you’re “the one.” I know, I know… it’s a little early for all of that, but my mind has a tendency to escape the chaos of the present moment in favor of organizing the future into picket fences and lakeside retirement cottages. This week in my Old Testament course materials, I’ve been reading about the prophets of the post-exilic era (the mid-500s BCE) after the Hebrew people from the Judean (southern) kingdom had been carted off to Babylon only to see their fortunes reversed when the Persians conquered the erstwhile invaders. I imagine the Judeans/Israelites/Hebrews/Jews (whatever you want to call them) were a lot like me – trying to make sense of the chaos of their present moment by daydreaming about a future that is very much yet to come.
They might have been like me in another way, too: searching for “the one.” They were searching for a person to come and deliver, liberate, and restore them, in the words of my Professor. They were hoping for an anointed one, sent by their God (Yahweh), to do all of this. In a word, they were looking for a messiah. And that word has a lot of theological significance, referring as it does to a leader appointed and protected by God for the purpose of serving God’s people (Fried). Don’t worry – I don’t have nearly the same expectations of you!
Before King David (who was definitely the messiah for a time), priests and prophets were anointed of God and thus messiahs, like Elijah and his prophet successor Elisha, the high priest before him, and the kings who succeeded them (Fried). After David, every king (with very few exceptions) was anointed of God by the prophets, and thus became the messiah. In much of the prophetic tradition, (c.f. Ezekiel, 34:23-24) the messiah is expected to be someone who can unite the two nations of Judah and Israel. Naturally, this person should be a king from the line of David (Stanley, p.460). And yet, as it turns out, that’s not at all what happened.
What’s so interesting about the people’s hope and desperation is that, for the first time in the history recorded by the Hebrew Scriptures, “the one” they hoped to be their messiah-deliverer was an outsider – a non-Jew, a foreigner (LESTER). In the book of Isaiah, the prophet actually declares that Cyrus, a Persian emperor, is God’s messiah (Isaiah 45:1-7). [Note: Messiah literally means “anointed one” (Fried)]. This is a big deal, because the title messiah has always referred to a ruler of Judah, or the southern Kingdom (Fried). And yet, here they were in the mid-500s, after decades of misery, living alone in a foreign place, that they thought they had found the one. Cyrus the Persian (Fried), a warrior-king rapidly expanding his empire by defeating neighboring nations, had overcome the Babylonian empire. For the Hebrew people, the misery was bad enough that they were perfectly willing to set aside some of the prophetic expectation that the messiah would be an Israelite like them.
I guess this is where practicality comes in handy for making sense of the disconnect between the theological and prophetic expectations and the reality of a messy world (pay attention, this could apply to us). Practically speaking, the messiah had one important role: restoration. That’s right – the messiah really only (as if it were easy) needed to restore a lost people to the place where they feel complete and at home. Frankly, with that practical expectation in mind, it shouldn’t matter the nationality of the messiah. And with the misery and messiness that defined their life in exile, it’s no surprise that messiah theology could be co-opted by the people out of their own self-interest to apply to a foreign king. Heck, it happened with the pharaohs in Egypt (Fried) and in Babylon itself. And, if it’s true that the Jews were pretty polytheistic people, there had to be some amount of thinking, on the part of priests and proletariat, that Cyrus and his marauding band had the local gods on their side. Messiah: anointed by god, not just G-d (Fried).
In terms of fulfilling the messianic mandate, Cyrus didn’t do half bad. Measured against Moses, in fact, he did pretty well. Remember, the people already had a great example by which to measure their new messiah: their exodus from Egypt under Moses. My professor made an interesting observation about the parallels between the Egyptian and Babylonian exiles: in both cases, while the Israelites’ iniquities might have predicated their capitulation to foreign invaders, their continued enslavement was a product not of their faults (Lester). In a sense, despite restitution having already been made for their sins, they were still being held, necessitating not “repentance, forgiveness, or restitution, rather in their persecution, vindication and restoration” (Lester). Vindication and restoration were thus the actions required of Cyrus the Persian Messiah, anointed by some god, used by God (Yahweh), to deliver the people from this bondage. Seeing it clearly, the prophet Isaiah named Cyrus thusly (Isa 45:1), and when the people were given their permission to return to Jerusalem and restore their lives, the prophecy was fulfilled.
Considering the exile, the deportation, the loss of life, and the utter ruin of the Judean kingdom, it would be impossible to be a Jew who still believed that Jerusalem was invulnerable to outside influence (Bandstra, 340). That also means it’s likely that people were starting to adopt new theological interpretations about who the messiah could be. Interestingly, though, the interpretation and expectation about what the messiah would do didn’t change very much at all.
Ultimately, restoring of the people offered them a renewed relationship with Yahweh. And this is I guess why I brought you up to begin with. Don’t worry: I’m not expecting you to save me from anything (except maybe loneliness in old age, if it comes to that). I’ve never had a clear idea of who “the one” would be, but I’ve always known what it is I expect the “one” to do (don’t worry, it has nothing to do with vindication or restoration). For me, it’s about offering complementarity and, through partnership, a fuller and deeper knowledge of, and relationship with, the love of God. So, while I still think it’s strange to attach any messianic meaning to you at this point, I’m faithful that my “one” (if it’s you) will offer the same restoration of relationship with God that the Hebrew messiah has offered the Israelites for centuries.
Til soon!
Alex
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Week 6: Israel’s Monotheism Problem?
Reading the late, pre-exilic prophets this week has introduced me to a lot of the context surrounding the words of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Nahum, Habbakuk, and Zephaniah. For me, Jeremiah has always held a place of affirmation and hope because of the oft-quoted 29:11 verse “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for prosperity and not for disaster, plans to give you a future and hope.” And yet, when taken in context of Jeremiah’s very unpopular prophecy in Jerusalem to the last Judean kings before the start of the Babylonian exile, his message is hardly one of hope and prosperity. Ezekiel was in the same boat in Babylonia himself. Theologian and historian Barry Bandstra writes, “Both assumed essentially the same task: to convince their audience… not to delude themselves. Yhwh indeed would punish them for their iniquities, and Jerusalem would fall” (Bandstra, p.318).
As I have been ruminating on this interpretive shift, and what it means to hold faith and hope in tension with the reality of suffering and destruction (a lesson from the dissonant wisdom of previous weeks), I pushed myself to read an article by Christopher Rollston, a professor of the Old Testament. Rollston makes the very bold claim that monotheism was not a core tenet of ancient Hebrew religion. While pointing out that the Yahweh proscribes having “any other God before me (Yhwh),” (Exodus 20:3) the sentiment behind such an explicit recognition of other gods belies plausibility in polytheism in popular Israelite custom and tradition (Rollston, 96).
To support this claim, Rollston relies on a blend of supporting materials, namely biblical and epigraphic (i.e. physical inscriptions on buildings, coins, or other edifices). Texts from Mesopotamia and the Levant, which demonstrate the culture’s wide held polytheistic conceptions, lend credibility to his thesis, at least in part because of their geographic proximity to Israel (Rollston, 97). He reads the Hebrew Scriptures in their socio-contextual history, suggesting that the narrative of Israel’s creation captured in Genesis 11:31 supports its “birth” as emerging from the polytheistic culture surrounding it (and substantially so) (Rollston, 98). This larger culture was reflected in the states of Moab, Edom, and Ammon, all of which are mentioned (cursed) by Jeremiah for their profligate ways (c.f. Jer 32:35, 48:7, 49:1). That these non-monotheistic ways would be reflected in the beliefs and practices of the people in contravention of the Mosaic covenant should come as no surprise for the alert reader of Jeremiah’s jeremiad; he decried these very practices and prophesied judgment on the Judean kingdom for the same (Bandstra, p.333).
And this brings me back to the dissonance I’ve been observing/experiencing in what I read in the text, what I read about the text, and what I hold to be true based on my beliefs and what I’ve been taught. What I read in the text (i.e. the world presented to me through the narrative of the Biblical text) is similar in many respects to what I’ve been taught in my faith community (i.e. the Biblical narrative world presented to me as distilled through the lenses of more contemporary culture). That Rollston’s claim is hardly controversial in the field of biblical studies, in the words of Dr. Brooke Lester, would come as a pretty big shock to some of the folks in my faith community of the United Methodist Church.
Many of the people who were instrumental in my faith formation read the Bible in a literal way. For them, when the Decalogue proclaims the supremacy of Yahweh’s Lordship, it does so in a kind of vacuum that doesn’t recognize even the option that the Israelites could have had popular polytheistic views. Such a reading of the scripture would require the kind of critical and academic deeper dive that both the OOTLE 16 course and Rollston evidence. They are unsettling propositions, even to me, because they challenge the idea that God’s existence as “one and only” has been with at least one group of people (i.e. God’s people Israel) since time immemorial (i.e. the Creation). Notwithstanding that I’ve already accepted this last conception as allegorical, the monotheism of Israelite is something I’ve always taken for granted – despite clear evidence in the text itself that has invited this critical reading.
Reading Rollston’s article in light of Jeremiah and Ezekiel reminds me to be faithful to the God who is still being revealed to me, even now, after a couple decades of study and faith formation. While being challenged by Rollston and by the prophets (who, like Rollston in some contemporary churches today were deeply unpopular because of the ways they challenged the powers and principalities of their day), I cling to the hope ultimately found in Jeremiad Covenant: God is continuing to write God’s promise in our hearts, where true understanding may be found.
As I have been ruminating on this interpretive shift, and what it means to hold faith and hope in tension with the reality of suffering and destruction (a lesson from the dissonant wisdom of previous weeks), I pushed myself to read an article by Christopher Rollston, a professor of the Old Testament. Rollston makes the very bold claim that monotheism was not a core tenet of ancient Hebrew religion. While pointing out that the Yahweh proscribes having “any other God before me (Yhwh),” (Exodus 20:3) the sentiment behind such an explicit recognition of other gods belies plausibility in polytheism in popular Israelite custom and tradition (Rollston, 96).
To support this claim, Rollston relies on a blend of supporting materials, namely biblical and epigraphic (i.e. physical inscriptions on buildings, coins, or other edifices). Texts from Mesopotamia and the Levant, which demonstrate the culture’s wide held polytheistic conceptions, lend credibility to his thesis, at least in part because of their geographic proximity to Israel (Rollston, 97). He reads the Hebrew Scriptures in their socio-contextual history, suggesting that the narrative of Israel’s creation captured in Genesis 11:31 supports its “birth” as emerging from the polytheistic culture surrounding it (and substantially so) (Rollston, 98). This larger culture was reflected in the states of Moab, Edom, and Ammon, all of which are mentioned (cursed) by Jeremiah for their profligate ways (c.f. Jer 32:35, 48:7, 49:1). That these non-monotheistic ways would be reflected in the beliefs and practices of the people in contravention of the Mosaic covenant should come as no surprise for the alert reader of Jeremiah’s jeremiad; he decried these very practices and prophesied judgment on the Judean kingdom for the same (Bandstra, p.333).
And this brings me back to the dissonance I’ve been observing/experiencing in what I read in the text, what I read about the text, and what I hold to be true based on my beliefs and what I’ve been taught. What I read in the text (i.e. the world presented to me through the narrative of the Biblical text) is similar in many respects to what I’ve been taught in my faith community (i.e. the Biblical narrative world presented to me as distilled through the lenses of more contemporary culture). That Rollston’s claim is hardly controversial in the field of biblical studies, in the words of Dr. Brooke Lester, would come as a pretty big shock to some of the folks in my faith community of the United Methodist Church.
Many of the people who were instrumental in my faith formation read the Bible in a literal way. For them, when the Decalogue proclaims the supremacy of Yahweh’s Lordship, it does so in a kind of vacuum that doesn’t recognize even the option that the Israelites could have had popular polytheistic views. Such a reading of the scripture would require the kind of critical and academic deeper dive that both the OOTLE 16 course and Rollston evidence. They are unsettling propositions, even to me, because they challenge the idea that God’s existence as “one and only” has been with at least one group of people (i.e. God’s people Israel) since time immemorial (i.e. the Creation). Notwithstanding that I’ve already accepted this last conception as allegorical, the monotheism of Israelite is something I’ve always taken for granted – despite clear evidence in the text itself that has invited this critical reading.
Reading Rollston’s article in light of Jeremiah and Ezekiel reminds me to be faithful to the God who is still being revealed to me, even now, after a couple decades of study and faith formation. While being challenged by Rollston and by the prophets (who, like Rollston in some contemporary churches today were deeply unpopular because of the ways they challenged the powers and principalities of their day), I cling to the hope ultimately found in Jeremiad Covenant: God is continuing to write God’s promise in our hearts, where true understanding may be found.
Saturday, March 5, 2016
Week 5: God is One Angry Momma Bear
In this fifth week of my OOTLE16 course, I'm reading about the early pre exilic prophets from the Hebrew tradition. Hosea and Amos are two of those prophets whose prophetic ministries took them to the Northern Kingdom of Israel (remember, by the time of the 8th century, Israel proper had been split in two kingdoms, the north with a capital in Samaria and the south, Judah, with a capital in Jerusalem). While both prophets are deeply concerned with the deteriorating relationship between the kingdom (along with its people) and God, they express these concerns differently. For Hosea, according to Christopher Stanley, the "people of Israel have provoked Yahweh to anger by engaging in improper forms of worship" (Stanley, p.431).
In chapter 4 of the Book of Hosea (which is the longest of the twelve so-named prophetic books of the Hebrew scriptures), the prophet gives voice to Yahweh's concern, reading out a litany of (mis)deeds that have damned the people's relationship with their God: the people have no faithfulness, no loyalty, no knowledge of God in the land; they are a swearing, lying, murder, stealing and adulterous bunch, who will surely be destroyed because they don't know God and have forgotten God's law (Hos 4:1-6).
As if that weren't enough, though, there is a structural failure here, specifically by the religious authorities and namely the temple priests. The Theologian Marvin Sweeney writes that the "Israelite priesthood is the party responsible for Israel's failure to abide by its covenant (New Interpreter's Study Bible, p.1258). There are real accusations that God makes against God's people through Hosea regarding idol worship in chapters 10 and 13. In 10:4, God refers to the people as liars, saying "with empty oaths they make covenants." In 10:5, God predicts that their worship of a calf idol placed in the Samarian temple portends the doom of both the people and temple, predicting it will be carried away when Assyria sacks the whole city.
God continues through Hosea in 13:2, claiming the people "keep on sinning, and make a cast image for themselves... people are kissing calves." This is the same God who, in 13:4-8, describes saving them, delivering them from Egypt, and being their only saving God. God is incredulous at this people who, in 13:6, have forgotten God entirely: "While I fed them, they were satisfied, and their heart was proud; therefore they forgot me." God's wrath awaits them in 13:8, like a momma bear robbed of her cubs.
These are the ultimate costs of the people's actions, who have forgotten their saving God and have turned instead to adopt the cultic religious practices of their neighbors and fearful (and eventual) conquerers to the north, the Assyrians. In turning away, Hosea makes clear in chapter 8 that Israel has violated its covenant by seeking out these kings and sanctuaries which God had never authorized and not intended as part of God's perfect plan for God's people: "They made kings, but not through me; they set up princes, but without my knowledge" (Hos 8:4). Like a wild donkey (8:9), lusting after a mate, the Israelites have pursued an alliance with Assyria, perverting their own religious customs along the way, and losing their identity in God as a result. This is the heart of Hosea's prophetic complaint against Israel.
Amos' prophetic complaint cites much different examples of Israel's failure to correctly live out its relationship with Yahweh, but his overall concern, demonstrated with the use of a plumb line, is the same as Hosea's: "Israel is radically off course, despite the prosperity that has seduced many into thinking that Yahweh is pleased with them" (Stanley, p.432). Amos focuses on the prosperity of the Northern Kingdom and how, despite this wealth, "the rich are living lives of luxury and ease while ignoring the poor and needy" (Stanley, p.429). What? A widening wealth gap between the haves and have nots? This sounds desperately familiar to today! While the crooked business practices and bribing of judges (sidebar: If you haven't before, go check out Jon Foreman's Instead of a Show. Wonderful song that perfectly captures Amos' complaint!) are bad enough, they are symptomatic of a deeper spiritual sickness, as Stanley calls it, within the people.
Jon Foreman, a singer-songwriter, gives voice to God and puts it this way:
Your eyes are closed when you're praying
You sing right along with the band
You shine up your shoes for services
But there's blood on your hands
You've turned your back on the homeless
And the ones who don't fit in your plan
Quit playing religion games
There's blood on your hands
For Amos, the people's faithfulness at worshiping is completely empty action because it is devoid of any true meaning. Amos surely saw the same failure in religious leadership that Hosea decried, but he pays attention to the social expression that it produces, which is inequality (2:6), abuse of the poor (5:11), bribes (5:12), and inequitable structures designed to entrench wealth and poverty for the lucky and not-so-lucky, respectively (8:4-6). The lesson is as relevant for Israel then as it is for us today, living as we do in a political system that has co-opted free market economics to keep wealth in the hands of the already wealthy and to prevent equity and equality from being recognized among God's people. Jon Foreman's lyrics are a direct challenge to theologies of wealth and prosperity and religious expression that ignore the needs of the most vulnerable and marginalized in society. For Amos and Hosea then, and for us today, there has been a great propensity to forget one's relationship with God when one is comfortable - whether that comfort comes from wealth, or from a wrong-headed view of religious expression. Whether or not an expression of God's favor, comfortability must not desensitize God's people to the hurts and needs of a broken world, who can be made even a little bit more whole through our acts of justice and mercy. And, of course, as Micah would say, (Micah 6:8) this is all, in the final analysis, that God requires.
In chapter 4 of the Book of Hosea (which is the longest of the twelve so-named prophetic books of the Hebrew scriptures), the prophet gives voice to Yahweh's concern, reading out a litany of (mis)deeds that have damned the people's relationship with their God: the people have no faithfulness, no loyalty, no knowledge of God in the land; they are a swearing, lying, murder, stealing and adulterous bunch, who will surely be destroyed because they don't know God and have forgotten God's law (Hos 4:1-6).
As if that weren't enough, though, there is a structural failure here, specifically by the religious authorities and namely the temple priests. The Theologian Marvin Sweeney writes that the "Israelite priesthood is the party responsible for Israel's failure to abide by its covenant (New Interpreter's Study Bible, p.1258). There are real accusations that God makes against God's people through Hosea regarding idol worship in chapters 10 and 13. In 10:4, God refers to the people as liars, saying "with empty oaths they make covenants." In 10:5, God predicts that their worship of a calf idol placed in the Samarian temple portends the doom of both the people and temple, predicting it will be carried away when Assyria sacks the whole city.
God continues through Hosea in 13:2, claiming the people "keep on sinning, and make a cast image for themselves... people are kissing calves." This is the same God who, in 13:4-8, describes saving them, delivering them from Egypt, and being their only saving God. God is incredulous at this people who, in 13:6, have forgotten God entirely: "While I fed them, they were satisfied, and their heart was proud; therefore they forgot me." God's wrath awaits them in 13:8, like a momma bear robbed of her cubs.
These are the ultimate costs of the people's actions, who have forgotten their saving God and have turned instead to adopt the cultic religious practices of their neighbors and fearful (and eventual) conquerers to the north, the Assyrians. In turning away, Hosea makes clear in chapter 8 that Israel has violated its covenant by seeking out these kings and sanctuaries which God had never authorized and not intended as part of God's perfect plan for God's people: "They made kings, but not through me; they set up princes, but without my knowledge" (Hos 8:4). Like a wild donkey (8:9), lusting after a mate, the Israelites have pursued an alliance with Assyria, perverting their own religious customs along the way, and losing their identity in God as a result. This is the heart of Hosea's prophetic complaint against Israel.
Amos' prophetic complaint cites much different examples of Israel's failure to correctly live out its relationship with Yahweh, but his overall concern, demonstrated with the use of a plumb line, is the same as Hosea's: "Israel is radically off course, despite the prosperity that has seduced many into thinking that Yahweh is pleased with them" (Stanley, p.432). Amos focuses on the prosperity of the Northern Kingdom and how, despite this wealth, "the rich are living lives of luxury and ease while ignoring the poor and needy" (Stanley, p.429). What? A widening wealth gap between the haves and have nots? This sounds desperately familiar to today! While the crooked business practices and bribing of judges (sidebar: If you haven't before, go check out Jon Foreman's Instead of a Show. Wonderful song that perfectly captures Amos' complaint!) are bad enough, they are symptomatic of a deeper spiritual sickness, as Stanley calls it, within the people.
Jon Foreman, a singer-songwriter, gives voice to God and puts it this way:
Your eyes are closed when you're praying
You sing right along with the band
You shine up your shoes for services
But there's blood on your hands
You've turned your back on the homeless
And the ones who don't fit in your plan
Quit playing religion games
There's blood on your hands
For Amos, the people's faithfulness at worshiping is completely empty action because it is devoid of any true meaning. Amos surely saw the same failure in religious leadership that Hosea decried, but he pays attention to the social expression that it produces, which is inequality (2:6), abuse of the poor (5:11), bribes (5:12), and inequitable structures designed to entrench wealth and poverty for the lucky and not-so-lucky, respectively (8:4-6). The lesson is as relevant for Israel then as it is for us today, living as we do in a political system that has co-opted free market economics to keep wealth in the hands of the already wealthy and to prevent equity and equality from being recognized among God's people. Jon Foreman's lyrics are a direct challenge to theologies of wealth and prosperity and religious expression that ignore the needs of the most vulnerable and marginalized in society. For Amos and Hosea then, and for us today, there has been a great propensity to forget one's relationship with God when one is comfortable - whether that comfort comes from wealth, or from a wrong-headed view of religious expression. Whether or not an expression of God's favor, comfortability must not desensitize God's people to the hurts and needs of a broken world, who can be made even a little bit more whole through our acts of justice and mercy. And, of course, as Micah would say, (Micah 6:8) this is all, in the final analysis, that God requires.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Week 4: The Sky is Falling!
I've been wondering a lot lately about whether the sky is actually falling. I can't watch CNN anymore, nor can I get any real job out of Facebook or Twitter. All of the headlines are bemoaning the fact that Donald Trump is going to be the Republican nominee for POTUS, and according to one poll that hasn't been wrong since 1912, at least, he'll actually win the general election. This is a person who has mocked the physically disabled, incited animus against the Islamic faith tradition, refused to condemn an endorsement by the KKK, bullies his opponents, refuses to extend any assistance to refugees, and hasn't made a single cogent policy recommendation the basis of his candidacy. And we're a sneeze away from making him leader of the "free world." Well, that world isn't about to be free anymore. And I'm starting to pray that the sky will actually fall.
But enough about him. This week in class we've been reading Daniel with an eye on the apocalyptic content of his writings. According to Bandstra, "an apocalypse is a revelation of future events initiated by God and delivered through a mediator (typically an angel) to a holy person" (Bandstra, 442). As a type of literature, it tells stories about the ends of things, like the end of history, the end of the world, or other types of revelations (remember the Left Behind series?). And as a eschatological conception, apocalypses cast God as the sovereign power, where "human agency is only secondary to divine initiative" (Bandstra, 443). The Book of Daniel provides a perfect example of apocalyptic literature and eschatology, specifically in chapters 7, 10, 11, and 12. Here are some examples of the elements of this apocalyptic genre seen in Daniel (note: the elements themselves are based on Bandstra's work and Dr. Lester's lecture):
Anonymity of author: In Daniel 7:1, an unknown author tells the story of Daniel's dreams/vision that he relayed to King Belshazzar of Babylon. This author uses the first person inside quotations to relate Daniel's story, but refers to Daniel in the third person when explaining the context for the story. By 10:2, however, the author has become Daniel in a pseudonymous way.
Dreams/visions: The rest of Daniel 7 and the successive chapters all concern a set of four drams/visions that Daniel has had concerning the future of empires and the Jewish people.
Highly imaginative symbolic imagery: We're going to have fun with this one because Daniel's dreams are chock full of imagery that, if one didn't know to associate it with other symbolic meanings, would probably indicate some level of mental illness. Dan 7:4 describes a lion with eagle's wings that can stand on two feet; 7:5 describes a bear with three tusks in its mouth; 7:6 a labored with four wings and four heads; and 7:7 a dreadful beast with iron teeth and horns, one of which could see and speak. These animals are in Daniel's first vision, but it goes on. In 7:9, a white haired man sits atop a throne engulfed in flames yet is not burnt alive. Hundreds of thousands of people attend to this kingly man and serve him. In Dan 10, the author describes coming across an angel: an emerald-skinned man with a face like lightning, eyes aflame, bronzed arms and legs, and a thundering voice (10:6).
Universal scope (events beyond those only concerning Hebrews): The contextual piece for the Daniel 7 vision is of course the hateful Hellenizing work of Antiochus, who was the Seleucid emperor. In Dan 7:21, a list of offenses of Antiochus's are enumerated (e.g. changing the sacred seasons and the law), explaining why in the vision he was put to death and another person would be given his dominion and kingship. The angel in Daniel 10 provides the context that helps make sense of the vision, and it is further elaborated upon in Dan 11-12. The vision occurs because of persecution by the "prince of the kingdom of Persia" (10:13). By 11:2-4, the vision constitutes a brief history of Hellenistic wars and continues with descriptions of battles between the Ptolemic Kingdom of the south with the Seleucidic kingdom of the north. The warrior king of 11:3 is Alexander the Great, whose kingdom was quartered after his death.
Unambiguous dualisms: Of course, the man in white from Dan 7:9, known in the narrative as the Ancient One, is God, and God's power is limitless. The Ancient One has the power in 7:11-12 to decide when these beasts will die and in 7:14 has the authority to hand over "dominion, kingship, and glory." Throughout the battles and wars of Dan 11-12:13, what is consistently made clear is the callous evil that these warring kings possessed, which is completely at odds with the God of gods (11:36). Because of this, in 12:1, Michael, the "archangel" and patron angel of Israel (Matthias Henze, New Interpreter's Study Bible, 2004, p.1249) promises to one day rise up and deliver the people who are "written in the book" (12:1) through an intense time of anguish that ends with the final time: "many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt" (12:2). These dualisms make clear an ending to the world where people are brought high or low, wise and shining, or running back and forth in alarm (12:3-4).
It's interesting to read all of these elements in Daniel and to have the accompanying context of Hellenistic history, which was a pretty painful time for the Jewish people - with their temple and religious practices having been desecrated as a matter of law and practice. It's no wonder that stories like these were created to inspire hopefulness and rekindle faithfulness among a people who were looking around and finding none. In my own search for hope contra the inevitability of the "Donald," I wonder and hope for a good word from this text for me and for us today.
But enough about him. This week in class we've been reading Daniel with an eye on the apocalyptic content of his writings. According to Bandstra, "an apocalypse is a revelation of future events initiated by God and delivered through a mediator (typically an angel) to a holy person" (Bandstra, 442). As a type of literature, it tells stories about the ends of things, like the end of history, the end of the world, or other types of revelations (remember the Left Behind series?). And as a eschatological conception, apocalypses cast God as the sovereign power, where "human agency is only secondary to divine initiative" (Bandstra, 443). The Book of Daniel provides a perfect example of apocalyptic literature and eschatology, specifically in chapters 7, 10, 11, and 12. Here are some examples of the elements of this apocalyptic genre seen in Daniel (note: the elements themselves are based on Bandstra's work and Dr. Lester's lecture):
Anonymity of author: In Daniel 7:1, an unknown author tells the story of Daniel's dreams/vision that he relayed to King Belshazzar of Babylon. This author uses the first person inside quotations to relate Daniel's story, but refers to Daniel in the third person when explaining the context for the story. By 10:2, however, the author has become Daniel in a pseudonymous way.
Dreams/visions: The rest of Daniel 7 and the successive chapters all concern a set of four drams/visions that Daniel has had concerning the future of empires and the Jewish people.
Highly imaginative symbolic imagery: We're going to have fun with this one because Daniel's dreams are chock full of imagery that, if one didn't know to associate it with other symbolic meanings, would probably indicate some level of mental illness. Dan 7:4 describes a lion with eagle's wings that can stand on two feet; 7:5 describes a bear with three tusks in its mouth; 7:6 a labored with four wings and four heads; and 7:7 a dreadful beast with iron teeth and horns, one of which could see and speak. These animals are in Daniel's first vision, but it goes on. In 7:9, a white haired man sits atop a throne engulfed in flames yet is not burnt alive. Hundreds of thousands of people attend to this kingly man and serve him. In Dan 10, the author describes coming across an angel: an emerald-skinned man with a face like lightning, eyes aflame, bronzed arms and legs, and a thundering voice (10:6).
Universal scope (events beyond those only concerning Hebrews): The contextual piece for the Daniel 7 vision is of course the hateful Hellenizing work of Antiochus, who was the Seleucid emperor. In Dan 7:21, a list of offenses of Antiochus's are enumerated (e.g. changing the sacred seasons and the law), explaining why in the vision he was put to death and another person would be given his dominion and kingship. The angel in Daniel 10 provides the context that helps make sense of the vision, and it is further elaborated upon in Dan 11-12. The vision occurs because of persecution by the "prince of the kingdom of Persia" (10:13). By 11:2-4, the vision constitutes a brief history of Hellenistic wars and continues with descriptions of battles between the Ptolemic Kingdom of the south with the Seleucidic kingdom of the north. The warrior king of 11:3 is Alexander the Great, whose kingdom was quartered after his death.
Unambiguous dualisms: Of course, the man in white from Dan 7:9, known in the narrative as the Ancient One, is God, and God's power is limitless. The Ancient One has the power in 7:11-12 to decide when these beasts will die and in 7:14 has the authority to hand over "dominion, kingship, and glory." Throughout the battles and wars of Dan 11-12:13, what is consistently made clear is the callous evil that these warring kings possessed, which is completely at odds with the God of gods (11:36). Because of this, in 12:1, Michael, the "archangel" and patron angel of Israel (Matthias Henze, New Interpreter's Study Bible, 2004, p.1249) promises to one day rise up and deliver the people who are "written in the book" (12:1) through an intense time of anguish that ends with the final time: "many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt" (12:2). These dualisms make clear an ending to the world where people are brought high or low, wise and shining, or running back and forth in alarm (12:3-4).
It's interesting to read all of these elements in Daniel and to have the accompanying context of Hellenistic history, which was a pretty painful time for the Jewish people - with their temple and religious practices having been desecrated as a matter of law and practice. It's no wonder that stories like these were created to inspire hopefulness and rekindle faithfulness among a people who were looking around and finding none. In my own search for hope contra the inevitability of the "Donald," I wonder and hope for a good word from this text for me and for us today.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Week 3: The Wisdom of Job
I hadn't heard of the Professional Left until this week. In a recent podcast, Ep 270, Prayer Breakfasts, Blasphemy, and Aaron Schock, the subject of Job comes up. It was a good episode, especially because they introduced the subject of blasphemy (and, specifically, their concerns with a God who would allow children to suffer) by talking about the dreaded Guinea Worm disease that plagues much of the world, especially on the African continent. While a graduate student in Atlanta, I studied and worked with the folks at The Carter Center who have made the eradication of this horrible malady something we will see in our lifetimes. I always like when my interests in theology and public health overlap.
But back to Job. Job is an interesting work that reflects a lot of the culture and theological thinking in Israel seeking to reconcile the "phenomena of reality to an underlying truth" of suffering in the world (Bandstra, p.414). Bandstra notes that Job is a response to traditional Middle Eastern wisdom literature that solely asserts and rests on a interpretation of society where righteousness and justice. are normative; in Job (and Ecclesiastes, for that matter) "'do right and you will be blessed'" does not actually work out in every situation" (Bandstra, p.409). To this point, Bandstra cites Mesopotaniam and Sumerian writings that reflect the same basic premise in their writings: the world isn't simple enough to always work out favorably for people who just trust in God. Job, then, reflects a large current of thought in Israelite society that struggled to make sense of "why bad things happen to good people."
Now to the podcast. The hosts of this podcast get just as much right as they get wrong about Job. Their basic introduction of Job's context is mostly right. In describing the setting in Job chapter 1, they distill the entire rest of the book as "a bet between God and the devil," which is essentially true (I wouldn't call it a bet, because nothing is wagered, but in the larger sense that the devil is challenging/wagering that Job would react in a certain way, which God agrees to test [Job 1:12; 2:6], it is a bet). They correctly describe Job as being blameless and righteous before God [Job 1:1]. So a lot of the broader themes they get right.
But they also miss a lot of the finer details which are actually essential to understanding the main motifs and lesson of Job. First, they say that God "murdered a bunch of people," which was actually the responsibility of the Satan, the "accuser" in the narrative. In Job 1:12, God gives Satan the power to take Job's property and children, and it is later Satan in 2:7 who goes and inflicts the dreaded skin maladies on Job. The hosts are only right in blaming God for this because of God's passive resistance (or perhaps even active permission giving), but to say that God was the murderer is incorrect. The hosts also claim that Job's wife was killed, and that when Job's "new family" is provided to him, he also gets a new wife. I find no evidence that Job's wife is ever killed in the text; as late as 2:10 his wife is encouraging him to curse God, which is many verses after the rest of Job's immediate family has been killed.
In the narrative section, theologian Christopher Stanley points out the contradictions between Job's response to his condition: he "accepts his losses patiently in the narrative sections but complains bitterly about his fate in the poetic chapters" (Stanley, The Hebrew Bible, p.508). Dr. Lester explains how this is an example of "dissenting wisdom" within the larger theme of the Wisdom books in the Hebrew Scriptures. According to Dr. Lester in his lecture Wisdom B, Job parallels a theme that is made clear in Ecclesiastes (e.g. 8:25) that humans, as a class, cannot dispute with the One who is stronger than human beings. The emphasis is not on the goodness of the King, says Dr. Lester, but depends on the King's power and strength.
And this is essentially how Job interfaces with God. In baring all of his emotion, Job is essentially putting God on trial for what he believes to be unjust and unfair treatment, and as a Stanley points out, "this assessment of his own conduct is correct" (Stanley, p.510). When God finally answers, God doesn't explain God's actions, doesn't give Job any explanation, and doesn't apologize. This is not a God who is trying to be good. In fact, God "assaults Job with a barrage of questions highlighting the gulf" between God's and Job's knowledge and understanding (Stanley, p.511). Job never gets an answer about his suffering, and neither does the audience. And I think this is the ultimate lesson in the book of Job.
In a culture that was used to applying "conventional" wisdom and so-called "Deuteronomic thinking" to their lives (i.e. do good, and good things will happen to you), Job flips the script entirely. As Stanley summarizes, "even the most devout servants of Yahweh experience sufferings for reasons that are known only to the deity" (Stanley, p.511). Neither life nor God are simple enough to distill into dualisms about good/evil and doing right vs wrong. Job is a lesson in not applying conventional wisdom to the hardships of life, but in all things, trusting in God's power. It's not an easy lesson to absorb, but for people who are familiar with the shit that life throws at us, it makes a lot of sense.
But back to Job. Job is an interesting work that reflects a lot of the culture and theological thinking in Israel seeking to reconcile the "phenomena of reality to an underlying truth" of suffering in the world (Bandstra, p.414). Bandstra notes that Job is a response to traditional Middle Eastern wisdom literature that solely asserts and rests on a interpretation of society where righteousness and justice. are normative; in Job (and Ecclesiastes, for that matter) "'do right and you will be blessed'" does not actually work out in every situation" (Bandstra, p.409). To this point, Bandstra cites Mesopotaniam and Sumerian writings that reflect the same basic premise in their writings: the world isn't simple enough to always work out favorably for people who just trust in God. Job, then, reflects a large current of thought in Israelite society that struggled to make sense of "why bad things happen to good people."
Now to the podcast. The hosts of this podcast get just as much right as they get wrong about Job. Their basic introduction of Job's context is mostly right. In describing the setting in Job chapter 1, they distill the entire rest of the book as "a bet between God and the devil," which is essentially true (I wouldn't call it a bet, because nothing is wagered, but in the larger sense that the devil is challenging/wagering that Job would react in a certain way, which God agrees to test [Job 1:12; 2:6], it is a bet). They correctly describe Job as being blameless and righteous before God [Job 1:1]. So a lot of the broader themes they get right.
In the narrative section, theologian Christopher Stanley points out the contradictions between Job's response to his condition: he "accepts his losses patiently in the narrative sections but complains bitterly about his fate in the poetic chapters" (Stanley, The Hebrew Bible, p.508). Dr. Lester explains how this is an example of "dissenting wisdom" within the larger theme of the Wisdom books in the Hebrew Scriptures. According to Dr. Lester in his lecture Wisdom B, Job parallels a theme that is made clear in Ecclesiastes (e.g. 8:25) that humans, as a class, cannot dispute with the One who is stronger than human beings. The emphasis is not on the goodness of the King, says Dr. Lester, but depends on the King's power and strength.
And this is essentially how Job interfaces with God. In baring all of his emotion, Job is essentially putting God on trial for what he believes to be unjust and unfair treatment, and as a Stanley points out, "this assessment of his own conduct is correct" (Stanley, p.510). When God finally answers, God doesn't explain God's actions, doesn't give Job any explanation, and doesn't apologize. This is not a God who is trying to be good. In fact, God "assaults Job with a barrage of questions highlighting the gulf" between God's and Job's knowledge and understanding (Stanley, p.511). Job never gets an answer about his suffering, and neither does the audience. And I think this is the ultimate lesson in the book of Job.
In a culture that was used to applying "conventional" wisdom and so-called "Deuteronomic thinking" to their lives (i.e. do good, and good things will happen to you), Job flips the script entirely. As Stanley summarizes, "even the most devout servants of Yahweh experience sufferings for reasons that are known only to the deity" (Stanley, p.511). Neither life nor God are simple enough to distill into dualisms about good/evil and doing right vs wrong. Job is a lesson in not applying conventional wisdom to the hardships of life, but in all things, trusting in God's power. It's not an easy lesson to absorb, but for people who are familiar with the shit that life throws at us, it makes a lot of sense.
Ultimately, their discussion is left incomplete. Blue Gal, who is one of the hosts, summarizes Job this way: "about one's inner life being too important to be represented by your outer lifestyle." She goes on to describe the dissonance of driving an Escalade to church, and how it's easy to worship God when you have everything you need. But I don't think that's a complete understanding of what's happening in Job.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Week 2: The Public's Lament for Water
I have really enjoyed reading about the Psalter and the various purposes for which the psalms were written. The lament psalm speaks into a very important tradition of the people of faith - the tradition of truly engaging in relationship with God. This engagement involves, at times, holding God responsible for the pain and suffering that we encounter in this world, which is God's creation. Dr. Lester writes that, "given God's history with God's people, the psalmist is comfortable charging God with 'dereliction of duty' and unabashedly urges a favorable response." Who among us has not had a relationship with a friend or family member that hasn't at one point or another culminated in a "come to Jesus" moment - where we have to call out the other for some slight or wrongdoing. So it is, I believe, with God. But what's so refreshing about this type of public complaint is that it's done as an act of worship. Barry Bandstra explains that this type of psalm always moves from "personal complaint to anticipation of salvation" (Bandstra, p.384). In so doing, the psalmist grounds her frustration/lament/complaint/disagreement in faith that God is still powerful, God is still loving, and God is still God.
Hear our voice, Authority;
let our shouts and chants pierce your ears.
Come out from behind your walls,
from behind your lecterns and daises
meet our angry stares.
Remember your City;
the electors who voted
for you to be strong,
strongly do we cry,
wishing only for our votes to matter.
Authority! Who has taken
authority?
When our water is shut off,
can they hear our parched cry?
From our chapped lips,
our coughs rise up asking for a drink.
The Powers and Principalities turn off our taps,
letting our arrears fill their own cups.
Their cups runneth over,
they are sated by our debts.
Yet, Authority! There is Power in our Voices.
Our voices reflect your Authority.
Your power is magnified by the very drumbeat
that remembers
and calls forth
the promise of your promise,
to serve us, your people.
Authority! Give us water!
Quench our thirst, heed our dry coughs.
Don't let the sick go without healing;
wholeness you offer to the broken through your living water.
Turn on our taps and let us drink.
Let us gather in our kitchens,
around the well and the fountain let our community be as One.
Let not this authority circumscribe your Authority.
Let your Authority drown out the authorities,
as the parted waters drowned out those authorities,
so long ago.
In my work in public health in the city of Detroit, I have encountered a lot of resentment and frustration among community groups who acutely experience the lack of public health infrastructure available for people in need. So it is to give voice to this shared complaint that I offer this communal lament, which I hope, speaks as much to the situation of water shut offs in Detroit as it can to any number of social injustices enacted upon people by the Powers and Principalities of this world. While I pray this lament to God for God's justice, I also pray it to the City Authorities who have, in many cases, acquiesced to Emergency Management and state takeover. May we have rivers of justice flow forth once more! For more information on the water shut offs in Detroit, check out: http://detroitwaterbrigade.org
Hear our voice, Authority;
let our shouts and chants pierce your ears.
Come out from behind your walls,
from behind your lecterns and daises
meet our angry stares.
Remember your City;
the electors who voted
for you to be strong,
strongly do we cry,
wishing only for our votes to matter.
Authority! Who has taken
authority?
When our water is shut off,
can they hear our parched cry?
From our chapped lips,
our coughs rise up asking for a drink.
The Powers and Principalities turn off our taps,
letting our arrears fill their own cups.
Their cups runneth over,
they are sated by our debts.
Yet, Authority! There is Power in our Voices.
Our voices reflect your Authority.
Your power is magnified by the very drumbeat
that remembers
and calls forth
the promise of your promise,
to serve us, your people.
Authority! Give us water!
Quench our thirst, heed our dry coughs.
Don't let the sick go without healing;
wholeness you offer to the broken through your living water.
Turn on our taps and let us drink.
Let us gather in our kitchens,
around the well and the fountain let our community be as One.
Let not this authority circumscribe your Authority.
Let your Authority drown out the authorities,
as the parted waters drowned out those authorities,
so long ago.
In my work in public health in the city of Detroit, I have encountered a lot of resentment and frustration among community groups who acutely experience the lack of public health infrastructure available for people in need. So it is to give voice to this shared complaint that I offer this communal lament, which I hope, speaks as much to the situation of water shut offs in Detroit as it can to any number of social injustices enacted upon people by the Powers and Principalities of this world. While I pray this lament to God for God's justice, I also pray it to the City Authorities who have, in many cases, acquiesced to Emergency Management and state takeover. May we have rivers of justice flow forth once more! For more information on the water shut offs in Detroit, check out: http://detroitwaterbrigade.org
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Declare: Intro to Tanak
Between the readings & this week's YouTube lectures, what most caught my interest was a quote Dr Lester gave of one of his former students summarizing the importance of historical contextual analysis of the Tanak/Hebrew Scriptures/Old Testament. A rough paraphrasing of her quote was that, back when the early Christian church was first making sense of Jesus' life and ministry vis-a-vis the Tanak, folks didn't read Tanak Christologically - instead, they read Jesus scripturally. I believe Dr Lester words were "they looked at the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus through the lens of the Hebrew Bible." They did not go back to the Tanak (their source material) and try to read it anew with Jesus' Christ-ness as their lens for (re)interpretation.
The implications of this on me (and us, as students of this intro level OT/Tanak course) are several. For one, we have to possess a keen sense of reflexivity in order to, in Dr Lester's words, "bracket our Jesus lens while looking through fresh eyes." This requires we know who we are, why we are pursuing historical study of this text, and what it means for ourselves as both students of academic thought and students of practical ministry application. These questions (and probably many more) are what I mean by a sense of reflexivity.
On another level, though, it seems like we have to also be willing to dislocate ourselves from our religious identities in order to be open to tracks of thought like biblical and form criticisms that might challenge our deeply held Christological beliefs. To this end, I found the opening chapters of Christopher Stanley's text The Hebrew Bible: A Comparative Approach helpful at providing some perspective to guide the rigorous undertaking of scholarly inquiry on these traditional texts. Dr Stanley suggest to 1) question the text when it's hard to understand or difficult to apply, instead of blindly trusting; to 2) adopt a spirit of independence from the conformity of belief many of our faith traditions adhere to, in order to "gain a better understanding of the biblical text, not to reinforce or undermine [those] teachings;" to 3) embrace the Tanak as a diverse, non-uniform set of writings that came from humans whose views and approaches influenced what they composed and are reflected therein; and finally to 4) approach the text not primarily with an eye toward application of our lessons to our own moral lives, but to a deep desire for understanding the text on its own basis and own merits as an entity unto itself.
I'm excited to begin this process with all of you, and to see how together we are challenged to reflect and grow intellectually as a result.
Peace!
The implications of this on me (and us, as students of this intro level OT/Tanak course) are several. For one, we have to possess a keen sense of reflexivity in order to, in Dr Lester's words, "bracket our Jesus lens while looking through fresh eyes." This requires we know who we are, why we are pursuing historical study of this text, and what it means for ourselves as both students of academic thought and students of practical ministry application. These questions (and probably many more) are what I mean by a sense of reflexivity.
On another level, though, it seems like we have to also be willing to dislocate ourselves from our religious identities in order to be open to tracks of thought like biblical and form criticisms that might challenge our deeply held Christological beliefs. To this end, I found the opening chapters of Christopher Stanley's text The Hebrew Bible: A Comparative Approach helpful at providing some perspective to guide the rigorous undertaking of scholarly inquiry on these traditional texts. Dr Stanley suggest to 1) question the text when it's hard to understand or difficult to apply, instead of blindly trusting; to 2) adopt a spirit of independence from the conformity of belief many of our faith traditions adhere to, in order to "gain a better understanding of the biblical text, not to reinforce or undermine [those] teachings;" to 3) embrace the Tanak as a diverse, non-uniform set of writings that came from humans whose views and approaches influenced what they composed and are reflected therein; and finally to 4) approach the text not primarily with an eye toward application of our lessons to our own moral lives, but to a deep desire for understanding the text on its own basis and own merits as an entity unto itself.
I'm excited to begin this process with all of you, and to see how together we are challenged to reflect and grow intellectually as a result.
Peace!
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Intro to the OOTLE16 Community
Hey Team OOTLE16,
My name's Alex Plum, and I'm in my first year at GETS, completing Basic Graduate Theological Studies on route to credentialing as a Deacon in the United Methodist Church. I completed a Master of Public Health last spring at Emory University, and I currently work for a major health system in Detroit, where I develop and coordinate global health programs and research.
I look forward to e-meeting everyone and collaborating over the semester.
Onward!
Alex
My name's Alex Plum, and I'm in my first year at GETS, completing Basic Graduate Theological Studies on route to credentialing as a Deacon in the United Methodist Church. I completed a Master of Public Health last spring at Emory University, and I currently work for a major health system in Detroit, where I develop and coordinate global health programs and research.
I look forward to e-meeting everyone and collaborating over the semester.
Onward!
Alex
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