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.

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.

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.

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

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!

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