One Book, Many Voices: Lectionary commentary from the Massachusetts Bible Society

July 5: Thorn in the Side

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 19:05:00 +0000

In a March column from this year, the journalist Nicholas Kristof considers the transition from “ink on dead trees” journalism to online news. While it is possible to argue that proliferating online news exposes readers to a greater diversity of viewpoints, Kristof argues the opposite: “When we go online, each of us is our own editor, our own gatekeeper. We select the kind of news and opinions that we care most about. Nicholas Negroponte of M.I.T. has called this emerging news product "The Daily Me.”

Kristof goes on to describe a study in which Democrats and Republicans were both offered mailings purporting to contain political research. In the study, both sides were eager to see on the one hand, research that would confirm their own views, and on the other hand, “manifestly silly” arguments in favor of views they oppose.

Kristof’s conclusion is that it Americans increasingly live in insulated chambers, and that our access to media can reinforce, rather than puncture, social divisions. He cites statistics that almost half of Americans live in “landslide counties” that vote overwhelming Democrat or Republican: a change from the 60s and 70s. As a result, Kristof recommends that readers regularly engage with partners with views unlike their own, and ends with a joke that he is off to read the Wall Street Journal’s editorial page.

I submit that a similar dynamic can often play out in American Christian communities. One can imagine the above research study playing out along similar lines if “Evangelical” and “Liberal” were substituted for “Democratic” and “Republican.”

Continuing in 2 Corinthians, this week’s lectionary reading contains a passage that, like the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan, has become a universal trope in the English language: the thorn in the side, or, depending on the translation, thorn in my flesh. The context, as I described earlier, is a series of letters to a Corinthian church in the wake of conflict. Paul sarcastically derides the “Super-Apostles” with whom he disagrees, and makes a series of appeals to mend the relationship with the Corinthians. We do not know exactly the nature of this conflict—Paul was writing to an audience familiar with the details, and thus does, like a character in a play, launch into a monologue answering the Who What When Where Why questions. Similarly, the nature of the “thorn in the flesh” is never made clear:

7To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 10That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12, 7-10).

In the context of this passage, Paul is making an appeal for the legitimacy of his teaching. Just as Ezekiel does in the lectionary passage from Hebrew Scripture, Paul claims that he received divine revelation to validate the truth of his words. His rhetorical aim is: “don’t believe what these others (“Super-Apostles”) tell you; believe me.” While the context is not explicit, the book of Acts describes the kinds of conflict that early Christians faced; at one point, Paul argues that circumcision is not essential for those who want to follow Christ.

Yet Paul interrupts his description of visions, making an abrupt switch from the 3rd person to the 1st person. He emphasizes that he is not telling the Corinthians about his revelations just so they will admire him and think him extremely fortunate: “To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.”

While there has been much speculation as to the nature of the actual condition Paul refers to metaphorically as a thorn, it is simply not clarified in the letter. One possibility is that Paul is nursing an injury from physical abuse he survived on his missions. Just before this moment he writes, "Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep" 2 (Corinthians 11:25). However, the mysterious nature of the thorn invites readers who have undergone chronic pain of any kind to identify with Paul.

In an essay called The Bible and Suffering, Rev. Peter Gomes draws attention to the line in which Paul states that the thorn comes from “Satan,” not from God. Gomes describes how frustrating it can be for victims of a great loss when well-wishers come up and say, “This is God’s will.” He quotes a man who had undergone a great loss saying, “God was the first who cried.” Gomes writes of Paul, “The source of his trouble, whatever it is, is not God” (Gomes, 216, 218).

However, Paul is able to reinterpret his suffering. He perceives the thorn, not as a meaningless burden, but as a steady source of humility in the context of his mission. Paul’s thorn links him to the pain Christ endured on the cross:

“This is not suffering for sufferings sake; it is suffering for Christ’s sake, so that Paul and all who see and learn from him might learn of the strength that Christ supplies. We learn as well that God’s role is not to relieve suffering or to spare us from it, but to enable us to bear and endure it so that even our suffering is redemptive for ourselves and others” (Gomes, 218-219).

In the passage, Paul does not immediately accept his suffering. He describes appealing three times to God to relieve the thorn—implying faith that in some instances, God responds to prayer for healing. The many narratives in which Christ heals those who appeal to him arguably emboldened Paul to also ask directly for healing in prayer. Yet Paul does not understand the absence of relief from the thorn as a sign that God has abandoned him. Gomes writes,

“Thus, God will not interfere despite the three appeals of the apostle. Why not? So that Paul will learn that he can rely upon Christ when he needs him, that is, in his weakness. The sufferings, the persecutions, the calamities, the insults and hardships, all of these are not ends in themselves but means to a greater end, the demonstration that Christ gets us through such things” (Gomes, 219).

After reading Nicholas Kristof’s article about the polarization of American civic life, I decided to try harder to understand religious traditions outside my own, even if I do not share their beliefs. In the nonfiction book God’s Daughters: Evangelical Women and the Power of Submission, Marie Griffith describes her fieldwork attending meetings of Women’s Aglow Fellowship International, an interdenominational organization of charismatic Christian worshippers. While Griffith takes an analytical, academic approach in her project of describing the group to a larger audience, the portrait that emerges does not depict women who passively embrace second-class status in a religious patriarchy. This complexity is evident in the chapter discussing how members respond to sources of pain that, like Paul’s thorn, do not recede with prayer.

In one example with which I will conclude, Griffith describes the account of a young woman, “Joyce,” diagnosed with cancer. Although she and her family and friends pray for healing, her symptoms worsen. She describes how her faith helps her, not to heal her disease, but to take pleasure in the life she has that remains: ‘The difference is . . . I’m living again. I’m watching the flowers bloom. I’m hearing the birds sing. I’m cuddling (my children)” (Griffith, 90). Summarizing common themes that appear in the evangelical women’s accounts of suffering, Griffith writes,

“Here again, the lesson to be learned about faith is not about the fulfillment of physical healing but about accepting death and appreciating everyday pleasures in the meantime. Her wistful closing words about her husband and children, ‘And they will remember me when they laugh,’ are poignantly suggestive of the heartache entailed in forsaking her family for the promise of heaven, a task that Joyce suggests is ongoing and perhaps never wholly finished until death” (Griffith, 90).

Other lectionary readings for this week are: 2 Samuel 5: 1-5, 9-10 or Ezekiel 2:1-5; Mark 6: 1-13; and Psalm 48.

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Gomes, Peter. The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Heart and Mind. HarperSanFrancisco: San Francisco, California, 1996.

Griffith, R. Marie. God’s Daughters: Evangelical Women and the Power of Submission. University of California Press: Berkeley, California, 2000.

Kristof, Nicholas. “The Daily Me,” published at http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/19/opinion/19kristof.html?scp=2&sq=kristof%20wall%20street%20journal&st=cse

June 28: Wisdom, Theodicy, & Immortality

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 21:01:00 +0000

The two options for the Hebrew scripture reading for this week’s lectionary are 2 Samuel 1, 17-27, and The Wisdom of Solomon, 1:13-15 and 2:23-24. This week I will focus on the passages from The Wisdom of Solomon (Wisdom).

The books in the Biblegrouped under the heading “Wisdom Literature” are rich in poetry and lyricism. In the Protestant canon, these include Ecclesiastes, Job, and the Song of Solomon. The Wisdom of Solomon is in the Protestant Apocrypha, but it is a part of the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox canons. Books such as Ecclesiastes and Job stand out from other Hebrew Scripture books, as they do not include extended textual references to Israelite history. The literary form they take is that of poems and stories, without an explicit attempt to fit their narratives into the historical line of patriarchs and prophets like Abraham, Moses, Jacob, and David.

Two central motifs in The Wisdom of Solomon are “immortality” and “wisdom.” Although the author uses “Solomon” as a pseudonym, this book has been dated to approximately the first century BCE, or the early first century CE, after the Greco-Roman Empire extended into Mesopotamia. The editors of NOAB write that the book “reflects extensive interaction with Greek literary and philosophical conventions” (AP 70). For example, in Wisdom 8:7 the writer extols the four cardinal virtues recognized in Greek philosophy: self-control, prudence, courage, and justice. The opening chapters take the rhetorical structure of a diatribe used by Greek and Roman philosophers. A diatribe often features an extended argument with an enemy; in this case, the writer, contrasts the actions of those he calls wicked and those he calls righteous. The writer was likely a Jewish person addressing a community Jewish in exile to remind them of the core principles of their faith. He appropriates aspects of Greek culture to argue for the vitality of Judaism (AP 70-72).

In so doing, the writer elevates a term that is present in older Hebrew texts, although not heavily highlighted or laid out with clarity: the immortality of the soul.

. . . God did not make death, and he does not delight in the death of the living.
For he created all things so that they might exist;
the generative forces of the world are wholesome,
and there is no destructive poison in them,
and the dominion of Hades is not on earth.
For righteousness is immortal. (1:13-15)

. . . for God created us for incorruption,
and made us in the image of his own eternity.
But through the devil’s envy death entered the world,
And those who belong to his company experience it. (2:23-24)

The book is written in Greek—we can see this even in translation, since in the passage above, the term Hades is used to describe what we would call hell. According to Greek mythological understanding, Hades was an underground, cavernous place where all souls went after death, in a comparatively emaciated, subdued existence compared to life on earth. Greek myths in which the location Hades figures prominently include the Orpheus narrative, in which Orpheus tries and fails to rescue his beloved from Hades, and the Persephone narrative, in which Ceres, the goddess of the harvest, succeeds in gaining her daughter’s freedom from Hades for half of each year, resulting in the changing seasons. In Hebrew texts, the term for what we call hell is Sheol. Sheol appears in the well-known passage from The Song of Solomon, not to be confused with The Wisdom of Solomon, that can be translated, “Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is as strong as death, passion as fierce as the grave” (8:6).

In Greek, the noun for wisdom, Sophia, has a feminine gender. In the first chapter, the writer, like the writer of Proverbs, personifies wisdom in terms that can be described as human, and yet also evoke descriptions of the Holy Spirit, the third part of the Trinity: “. . . for wisdom will not enter a deceitful soul,” and “For wisdom is a kindly spirit . . .” (1:4, 6). There is similarity to the female personification of Wisdom in the first chapter of Proverbs:

Wisdom cries out in the streets,
in the squares she raises her voice.
At the busiest corner she cries out;
At the entrance of the city gates she speaks . . . (1:20-21).

The term “wisdom” has loomed large in political media recently, because of the attention given to Judge Sonia Sotomayor’s remark about a “wise Latina woman.” The controversy surrounded her hearing has given way to reflections of all stripes as to what, indeed, constitutes wisdom.

In Wisdom Ways, the feminist biblical scholar Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza describes it thus:

“Wisdom is a state of the human mind and spirit characterized by deep understanding and profound insight. It is elaborated as a quality possessed by the sages but also treasured as folk wisdom and wit. . . . Its root meaning comes to the fore in the Latin word sapientia, which is derived from the verb sapere=to taste and to savor something. . . . Wisdom, unlike intelligence, is not something with which a person is born. It comes only from living, from making mistakes and trying again and from listening to others who have made mistakes and tried to learn from them” (ESF, 23).

The picture of the Divine that emerges from the passages in the lectionary is absolutely not that of God who, from a vengeful perch on high, uses death as a means of punishing humans. The image is one of beneficence and generative power:

“God did not make death, and he does not delight in the death of the living. For he created all things so that they might exist;
the generative forces of the world are wholesome . . .” The passage uses the motif that humans are made in the image of God: “for God created us for incorruption, and made us in the image of his own eternity.”

The Wisdom of Solomon as whole is noteworthy for the answer it gives to what is often called the theodicy problem, concerning the justice of God. For readers interested in learning more on this topic, I recommend C. S. Lewis’ book, The Problem of Pain. The philosophical question, simplistically formulated, is as follows: How can God be omnipotent and benevolent, when innocent beings suffer in the world? Either God must be A) benevolent but not omnipotent, B) omnipotent but unjust, or C) unjust and not omnipotent. Public acts of unprovoked suffering and death, such as the death of the girl Neda, cause many to consider this line of questioning.

The writer provides an answer to the theodicy problem through his explanation of immortality. In chapter 2, taking on the voice of the wicked lying in wait for a righteous man, the Wisdom author writes,

Let us test him with insult and torture,
so that we may find out how gentle he is,
and make trial of his forbearance.
Let us condemn him to a shameful death,
for, according to what he says, he will be protected. (1:19-20).

The answer of the Wisdom writer to this problem is formulated well by Michael Coogan:

“The doctrine of the immortality of the soul solves the problem of theodicy, of divine justice in this life: God will reward the good in the life to come. The wicked will have sided with death (who in 1:16 is almost a deity, like the Greek god Hades, the ruler of the underworld that has his name), but God has created life for the righteous, a life that is immortal. The way to achieve this eternal life is through the pursuit of wisdom, to which the author next turns” (Coogan, 521).

Other lectionary readings for this week are the following: Psalm 130 or Psalm 30; 2 Corinthians 8:7-15; Mark 5:21-43 (optional Psalm reading: Lamentations 3:23-33).

--Elizabeth Fels

Works Cited:

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Coogan, Michael D. The Old Testament: a Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press, 2006.

Schüssler Fiorenza, Elisabeth. Wisdom Ways: Introducing Feminist Biblical Interpretation. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2001.

June 21: Afflication and Consolation

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 09:54:00 +0000

In this entry I will focus on the lectionary reading passage 2 Corinthians 6:1-13.

In the letters dating from the 50s CE, Paul addresses a Christian community that he founded with assistance of Timothy, Priscilla, Aquila, and Phoebe. At that time, Corinth was a Greek metropolis of approximately 250,000, huge by the standards of that time. It was located by the isthmus running between Peloponnesus and the Greek mainland. To see a copyright-protected map of Corinth in relationship to other cities Paul visited, click on http://www.bible.org/assets/netbible/jp1.jpg.

Although the Romans had destroyed Corinth in 146 BCE for leading a rebellion, it was rebuilt in 44 BCE. According to NOAB, it was “a colony to which the Roman patricians sent surplus population from Rome itself, such as recently freed slaves, displaced peasants, and army veterans. Corinth quickly developed into a busy hub of east-west trade in the empire, and the center of Roman imperial culture in Greece” (NT 267).

As indicated in Acts 18:11, Paul organized gatherings in private homes in Corinth with the assistance of Timothy, Priscilla, Aquila, and Phoebe for approximately a year and a half (NT 267). The letters to the Corinthians are thus an indication of the leadership roles women took on in the early church, as well as the importance of what today are called house circles.

While I was living in Germany in 2006, on my way to watch friends compete in the German college debating championships, I met a young Iranian at a train station. Soccer’s World Cup was on, and I was thus able to recognize that the shirt he wore was an Iranian Jersey. As we talked about why we were living in Germany, Mahmoud, as he introduced himself, explained that he had been forced to immigrate after converting to Christianity.

Mahmoud described seeing American Christian programming on television, and writing the show to request a Bible in Persian. The organization he corresponded with sent him the Persian Bible, as well as music recordings. Mahmoud became a Christian and plugged himself into the underground Christian network in his home town, which, like Corinth in the 50s, organized through private gatherings in homes.

One night when Mahmoud hosted a Bible study at his house, he invited a Muslim friend, who made a video recording. The friend lived with his family; his father, upon finding this recording, turned it in to the police. Shortly later, officials arrived at Mahmoud’s house to arrest him, but he was not home at that time.

Mahmoud’s being away from his home during the arrest attempt possibly saved his life. In Iran, although it is not illegal to be a Christian, attempts to convert a Muslim, that is, actions that could be interpreted as proselytizing can be punished by execution. Mahmoud’s family told him to immediately leave for Turkey. Through Turkey he immigrated to Germany, where he found work at a carpet store. When I asked whether it was difficult for him to adjust to life in Germany, he seemed surprised; “Ich kann hier einfach beten,” he said, meaning, “I can simply pray here.”

Over the last days, I have been in touch with Iranian friends studying in Massachusetts who express frustration with the results of the election. They describe how Iranians are upset, both by the likelihood of a rigged voting process, and by the prospect of the leader least supportive of personal freedom and international peace efforts remaining in power.
Readers interested in reading an Iranian’s perspective on the election on Facebook can find commentary here: http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/note.php?note_id=111235289609&id=33821&ref=share

Stories like Mahmoud’s remind me of the difficulties early communities must have faced in the Roman Empire. As records of early Christian martyrs indicate, religious activity perceived as a threat to political authority in the Roman Empire could have been punished by death, by crucifixion (Jesus, Peter), or as public entertainment (http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/131christians/martyrs/perpetua.html)

2 Corinthians, because of its fragmentary structure, has been described as a collection of letters Paul wrote to the Corinthian Christian community in response to a crisis. The nature of the crisis is not clearly spelled out, as it would have already been known to the audience (NAB). In the introduction to 2 Corinthians, the editor(s) of the New American Bible write,

“The letter is remarkable for its rhetoric. Paul falls naturally into the style and argumentation of contemporary philosophic preachers, employing with ease the stock devices of the ‘diatribe.’ By a barrage of questions, by challenges both serious and ironic, by paradox heaped upon paradox, even by insults hurled at his opponents, he strives to awaken in his hearers a true sense of values and an appropriate response. All his argument centers on the destiny of Jesus, in which a paradoxical reversal of values is revealed. But Paul appeals to his own personal experience as well” (usccb.org).

The passage reads as follows, from the NIV:

1As God's fellow workers we urge you not to receive God's grace in vain. 2For he says,
"In the time of my favor I heard you,
and in the day of salvation I helped you." I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation.
The phrase “the time of God’s favor” is a reference to Isaiah 49:8 in the Septuagint, or the Greek translation of Hebrew Scripture. The editors of NAB note that this phrase is parallel to “on the day of salvation.”

3We put no stumbling block in anyone's path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. 4Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; 5in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger;

Paul makes an appeal to the Corinthians to see him as authentic, listing the suffering he has endured while trying to build up Christian communities and spread the Gospel. I once heard sermon in which the speaker explained how he would be afraid to face the trials Paul did, which included beatings and being imprisoned.

6in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; 7in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; 8through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; 9known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; 10sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

This passage powerfully builds on the theme which the NOAB commentary call “affliction and consolation,” begun in the first chapter and elaborated throughout the book (NT 293-294). Paul take up a motif one could trace back to the Sermon on the Mount, as well as to the “Inappropriate Heroes” of Hebrew Scripture like Gideon, of power located in weakness: God uses human weakness to showcase divine strength.

11We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians, and opened wide our hearts to you. 12We are not withholding our affection from you, but you are withholding yours from us. 13As a fair exchange—I speak as to my children—open wide your hearts also.

Other lectionary passages for this week include 1 Samuel 17:(1a, 4-11, 19-23), 32-49; Psalm 9:9-20; Mark 4:35-41.

Sources:

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

New American Bible notes on 2 Corinthians. Published by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, and found on (http://www.usccb.org/nab/bible/2corinthians/2corinthians6.htm).

Xenos Christian Fellowship notes on 2 Corinthians (www.xenos.org).

June 14th: Innappropriate Leaders

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 08:12:00 +0000

Then Samuel went to Ramah; and Saul went up to his house in Gibeah of Saul.
Samuel did not see Saul again until the day of his death, but Samuel grieved over Saul. And the LORD was sorry that he had made Saul king over Israel. (1 Samuel 15: 34-35)

The passage, preceding the anointing of David, anthropomorphizes the divine. The authors of 1 Samuel, typically identified as the Deuteronomistic historians, do not portray God as omniscient, but as experiencing the emotion of regret to have made Saul the king of Israel. This odd moment at the start of Israel’s monarchic period arguably reflects tension, not just regarding Saul’s kingship in particular, but the concept of kingship itself that characterizes the book as a whole.

I Samuel is set during the time period in which the Philistines, after an unsuccessful naval attack on Egypt, settled along the coast of Israel. Building up cities at sites including modern-day Gaza and making use of fertile land along the plains, the Philistines began to launch military attacks on the Israelites who had already settled the hill country to the east.

Although the word “Philistine” today is used to refer to an uncouth, materialistic person who has no sensitivity to art or beauty (“What a Philistine!”), the actual Philistines came from Crete, leaving an archeological record of pottery in the style we associate today with ancient Greeks. Archeologists have found parts of war chariots dating from this time period in territory controlled by the Philistines, but in no adjoining lands, indicating their advanced military technology. The description of Goliath’s spear, armor, shield, and helmet in I Samuel 17 matches the archeological record of armor that Philistines used in battle.

A phrase that crops up in high school history class is “the divine right of kings.” Few countries today still have kings who wield tangible authority. Yet it is not difficult to point to recent leaders whose rhetoric implies a belief that their actions are not only politically justified, but imbued with a divine mandate. This particular passage, and the chapters succeeding it, offer a portrayal of a king who has lost what the authors refer to as “the spirit of the LORD,” and how the religious community deals with the ensuing conflict.

I Samuel, and this lectionary passage in particular, raise questions that are relevant in light of recent current events. For example: from where does a political ruler derive legitimacy? How might religious communities go about determining whether obeying the political ruler corresponds with right action? The crisis in I Samuel is not just one of military self-determination, but concerns the religious identity of the community. Rather than giving a clear-up, unambiguous answer to these questions, the authors offer a complex portrait of both the advantages and pitfalls of kingship.

Leading up to the introduction of monarchy in Israel, dated as approximately the end of the 11th century BCE for Saul’s reign and the beginning of the 10th for David’s, Israel was governed by what were called Judges. During the time of Judges, the Israelite tribes were a loose confederation rather than a unified power, and thus vulnerable to outside attack.

In her essay “There Were No Kings in Israel,” which takes its title from the phrase repeated in the book of Judges, Jo Ann Hackett characterizes premonarchic Israel as follows:

“. . . the lack of centralization of the society in religious, political, and military matters and the concomitant lack of a permanent administration, including a standing army . . . clarify one of the most interesting aspects in the book of judges as presented in the biblical text: the heroes themselves are often unlikely. In these contexts, women and outcast men can seize power that would be beyond their reach in a society ruled by a hereditary elite. The theological interpretation of this lack of a predicable organization and of the noticeable inappropriateness of many of the era’s leaders was that Israel’s only true leader was Yahweh . . .” (Hackett, 134).

Hackett calls attention to Gideon as an example of an “inappropriate leader” from this era. Like Moses protesting that he is not eloquent, when Gideon receives a divine calling, he protests that he is the least important member of the poorest clan (Hackett, 135). Yahweh’s response, “but I will be with you,” (Judges 6:16), indicates the theological point that humans cannot ensure victory themselves, but are instruments of Yahweh (Hackett, 135). After he has saved Israel, Gideon refuses to be made a king and start a dynasty (Hackett, 136).

In The People Called: the Growth of Community in the Bible, Paul Hanson describes how Israel’s origins as a group of liberated slaves, attributing their freedom to Yahweh’s gracious acts, rendered the community suspicious of kings. If escape from a system of kingship in Egypt hugely influenced the tribes’ identity, it stands to reason that distrust of absolute power would shape leadership structures. Hanson refers to Samuel’s angry reaction in I Samuel 8, when the Israelites beg for a king in order to fend off attackers. The rhetorical pattern Samuel uses is that if the Israelites elect a king, “He will take your X to be his Y.” The fear expressed is that the power inherent in the office of a king, even if it might result in short-term victory, will usher in a fundamental institutional change (Hanson, 93):

So Samuel reported all the words of the LORD to the people who were asking for a king. He said, these will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to run before his chariots . . . He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards . . . And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves; but the LORD will not answer you. (1 Samuel 8:10-18).

In the passage from this week’s reading, David is described as coming from the same vein of “inappropriate leaders” Hackett describes. Receiving a directive from the LORD, Samuel goes to Jesse of Bethlehem to find a replacement for Saul. Jesse brings all of his sons before the esteemed judge and prophet except for the youngest, David, who is tending the sheep: “Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to Jesse, ‘The LORD has not chosen any of these’” (10). When Samuel sees David, he anoints him, and “the spirit of the LORD came mightily upon David from that day forward” (13).

Although the chapters immediately following portray David as a hero, rescuing the Israelites from the Philistines, later chapters show David indeed falling to temptations arguably foreshadowed by 1 Samuel 8. For example, he sleeps with a married woman, Bathsheba, and then intentionally sends her husband to the frontlines of battle where he is killed. The narrative of Tamar gives a negative portrayal of David as a father, unable to shield his daughter from rape or punish her rapist.

In closing, the chapter immediately preceding this week’s reading is likely to be extremely disturbing to modern readers. It puts forward a portrayal of God that many readers, including me, may reject as bloodthirsty, and refuse to claim as part of their community’s religious heritage. Virtually everyone who grew up attending Sunday School is familiar with the story of David and Goliath, and it is not unusual to conceptualize Saul as the “bad” king and David as the “good “king. Yet the reason the Deuteronomic authors give for Saul falling out of Yahweh’s favor is his hesitance to immediately kill all people and animals of the Amalekites. The following passage is worthwhile keeping in mind when “Amalekites” are mentioned in contexts of modern warfare:

Thus says the LORD of hosts, ‘I will punish the Amalekites for what they did in opposing the Israelites when they came up out of Egypt. Now go and attack Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have; do not spare them, but kill both man and woman, child and infant, ox and sheep, camel and donkey’ (1 Samuel 15:2-3).

Other readings for the lectionary this week are as follows: I Samuel 15:34-16:13; Psalm 20; II Cor 5:6-10; 14-17; Mark 4:26-34.

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Hackett, Jo Ann. “There Was No King in Israel’: the Era of the Judges,” in Coogan, Michael D. The Oxford History of the Biblical World. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998.

Hanson, Paul J. The People Called: the Growth of Community in the Bible. Lousiville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1986.

June 7: Guide to beginning Isaiah

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 10:29:00 +0000

While the book of Isaiah regularly appear in lectionary readings, it is virtually impossible to get a sense of the 66-chapter book’s complex historical background from single passages taken out of context. As a result, one might be inclined to skip over references names that, shockingly, did not catch on as popular modern baby names, like “Uzziah” and “Hezekiah.” Lines like “Is not Calmo like Carchemish? Is not Hamath like Arpad?” (Isaiah 10:9) are not likely to land on many bumper stickers.

The natural impulse is to skip over unfamiliar names and places, and take whatever meaning one can. When I first read Isaiah as a girl, my main takeaway was that God is not a fan of make-up and jewelry but prefers the natural look: “In that day the Lord will take away the finery of the ankles, the headbands, and the crescents; the pendants, the bracelets, and the scarves; the headdresses, the armlets, the sashes, the perfume boxes, and the amulets”. . . (Isaiah 3:18-19).

Yet questions that the book of Isaiah puts forward are extremely relevant in today’s political landscape. The first section, written during the 8th century BC, is a record of a prophet’s advice in a country continuously under attack. Isaiah, a court prophet in the city that is modern-day Jerusalem, gives advice on foreign policy to a series of four rulers on how to deal with military attacks.

The narratives provoke the reader to face questions like the following: to what extent should political rulers in charge of a kingdom’s military be influenced by spiritual principles in decision-making? When your kingdom is invaded, is it better to seek protection from a foreign power whose policies threaten religious freedom? Or is it better to maintain autonomy, accepting the risk that, in the case of defeat, the civilians one is charged to protect will be at worst slaughtered and at best deported?

In this week’s entry, I am making a glossary of sorts for the book of Isaiah: a list of major names and places with explanations of why they are important. I draw information from The Prophets, by Abraham Heschel; The People Called, by Paul J. Hanson; and the New Oxford Annotated Bible (NOAB). The lectionary readings for this week are Isaiah 6:1-8; Psalm 29; Romans 8:12-17; and John 3:1-17.

Judah/Israel/Ephraim: When Isaiah was written, modern day Israel was divided into a “Northern Kingdom,” also called “Israel” or “Ephraim,” after its major tribe. The Southern Kingdom, containing Jerusalem, was called Judah.

Zion: another name for Jerusalem. The centrality of Jerusalem is a major theme in the book. Connecting Isaiah’s concept of the Messiah, which will later be picked up in the Gospels, to Jerusalem, Paul Hanson writes, “In the righteous, faithful city, the anointed representative of God, the Davidic king, would . . . draw() veneration not to himself, but to God . . . from this grounding in worship of the one true God he would foster righteousness and compassion in the land” ‘(Hanson, 182-183).

Describing how, in Isaiah’s judgment, Jerusalem was not fulfilling its covenant responsibility, Hanson quotes the opening chapter:

“Righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers.
Your silver has become dross, your wine mixed with water.
Your princes are rebels and companions of thieves” (Hanson, 183).

Sections of the first chapter are written from the perspective of God’s voice:

“cease to do evil, learn to do good,
seek justice, rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan, plead for the widow” (Isaiah 1:16-17).

In chapter 6, the speaker describes the prophet receiving his calling in the year of the death of Uzziah, which was 733 BC; however, chapters 40-66 refer to events surrounding the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BC. Jerusalem being conquered by the Babylonians, its population deported into exile, is considered one of the great crises in Judaism.

In earlier entries, I discussed tension in biblical texts between those that portray undeserved suffering, such as the book of Job, and those that portray suffering as punishment for sin. Isaiah definitely comes down in the second category: the book portrays the invading Assyrians and Babylonians as instruments of divine wrath. However, the book ends with a vision of God intervening in the future to bring about justice. In the closing inclusive prophecy, God is worshipped, not just in Jerusalem, but by all of humanity.

“First,” “Second,” or “Third” Isaiah: Chapters 1-39, 40-55, and 56-66, respectively. The events described in the book span about 200 years, including the rise of the Assyrian, Babylonian, and most likely Persian empires. The editors of NOAB write that this “should not leave the impression that it is simply a collection of fragments, or an anthology whose parts have no organic relation to each other. The unity of the book comes in large part from the development and deepening of major themes: the centrality of Jerusalem; the importance of the ‘anointed’ ruler; and the contrast between God’s people and the political and military machinations of the great world empires” (977).

King Uzziah: A king of Judah, the southern in this week’s passage, Isaiah describes the vision that constitutes his calling as a prophet: “In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple” (Isaiah 6:1). Uzziah was quarantined during his reign, probably of leprosy, and let his son reign in his stead.

Ahaz: Uzziah’s grandson. Ahaz is king of Judah during what is called the Syro-Ephraimite war. In the leadup, Assyria aggressively starts expanding its empire and tries to conquer Israel, Syria, and Judah. Israel and Syria form an alliance to resist. Imagine California attacking New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas: New Mexico and Arizona comb forces to fight back, but Texas maintains autonomy.

When Ahaz refuses to join the alliance, Israel and Syria both attack Ahaz, in an attempt to replace him with a ruler in favor of a military alliance. The modern word for this would be “regime change.” Ahaz responds by appealing to Assyria, the enemy, for help, sending the message, “I am your servant and your son. Come up, and rescue me from the hand of the king of Syria and from the hand of the king of Israel, who are attacking me” (II Kings 16:7) (Heschel, 80).

Assyria: the Middle East superpower of the 8th century BC. They accept Ahaz plea for protection, but in return, Judah becomes a vassal of Assyria, paying high tribute and being forced to give military support. Heschel quotes Isaiah describing this treaty as a “covenant of death” (Isaiah 28:15). According to Isaiah, Judah was trusting in a foreign power for protection rather than in God alone.

This submission threatened religious autonomy in Judah. Heschel writes, “The Assyrians were fanatically devout. In military campaign the king assumed the role of the deputy of god. The prowess and victories of the army were thought to reflect the power of the god Ashur. Assyria imposed the recognition of her gods as the overlords of the gods of the conquered peoples. Political subservience involved acceptance of religious institutions” (Heschel, 90-91).

Heschel quotes Isaiah’s warning against alliances, : “In returning (to God) and in rest you shall be saved; In quietness and trust shall be your strength” (Isaiah 30:15). Elsewhere, Isaiah condemns violence and projects a vision of the future in which peace will prevail. Isaiah 2:4 offers a vision of the cessation of violence whose imagery is still used in political rhetoric in modern times:

“. . . they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.”

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Hanson, Paul J. The People Called: the Growth of Community in the Bible. Lousiville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1986.

Heschel, Abraham. The Prophets. New York: Harper & Row, 1962.

May 31: Pros & Cons of Preaching on the Lectionary

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 26 May 2009 10:28:00 +0000

Continuing the series on nuts and bolts of preaching, the following is from an interview with Jonathan Page, Epps Fellow at Memorial Church in Cambridge. The topic of the interview is the pros and cons of preaching on the Lectionary passages. Jonathan argues against preaching on the Lectionary. Next week I will post a rebuttal from another Massachusetts pastor.

Jonathan will be preaching at June 21 and July 19 at 10 am in Memorial Church, which is located behind the Harvard Yard. Jonathan is passionate about student outreach. During the academic year, he started a service for students in particular, which is held at 9 pm on Sunday nights. He has also written a book on missionaries, described on http://www.newenglandancestors.org/publications/45_7404.asp.

"As I understand it, the lectionary was added following the Vatican II Council. The Roman Catholic Church shifted from a one year lectionary to a three year lectionary as a result of the Council. In order to promote ecumenism, the Protestant churches began to draw up their own three year lectionaries and did their best to follow the RC model whenever possible. Finally, an ecumenical group of Protestant churches drew up the Revised Common Lectionary, which many denominations use today.

So, first and foremost, the lectionary allows all the churches of the United States and abroad to preach the same passages on the same day. Furthermore, the lectionary forces the preacher to address a broad range of texts. If you follow the lectionary, you will cover nearly the entirety of the gospels in a three year cycle, in addition to important sections of the Old Testament and the epistles.

Those are what I see as the two major advantages to using the lectionary: ecumenism and breadth of scriptural reach.

The disadvantages, however, far outweigh the advantages, especially for a liberal minister. With no lectionary, a minister is forced to choose her own scripture passages each week. This means that the minister must come up with a plan for sermons going forward. She cannot simply preach social justice each week or preach a pastoral sermon or one that is heavily theological.

As a minister looks down the calendar she must ask herself, “What does the congregation need at this point?” So the first reason to ditch the lectionary is that it forces a minister to think long term about what she wants her congregation to get out of preaching.

The second reason to avoid the lectionary is theological. The lectionary assumes that sermons should be exegetical and that all of scripture, especially the gospels, deserves to be preached. This is simply false. The Bible must be translated from its own time period into our own. Certain passages, especially the apocalyptic ones, are not relevant to the lives of modern, liberal Christians. I am not awaiting the imminent return of Jesus in the clouds. That belief is tied up in a first century worldview, which I do not believe and neither does my congregation.

Furthermore, not all passages are created equal. We all read a text from our own distinct theological viewpoint. There is no such thing as a coherent “Biblical theology.” It simply does not exist. Marching your way through the text because the lectionary dictates it leads to the lectionary determining the shape of your preaching instead of your theology. Our theology should be the guide for our preaching.

The third and final reason for avoiding the lectionary is that it allows ministers to avoid their teaching responsibility. Preachers end up looking at a text and trying to figure out something to say to the congregation that might be relevant to their lives based on that reading. Far too often, the sermons become a series of personal anecdotes around one particular story in the text. In the end the congregation learns nothing about the Bible or theology or church history.

Mainline congregations are not well versed in the faith, mostly because ministers have stopped teaching them. When there is no lectionary, when a minister must plan out what to preach and teach the congregation, when theology and not an arbitrary text drives the preaching task, congregations learn more about their faith.

Using no lectionary is difficult. It requires a lot of careful thought, but especially for liberal ministers, it is the way to go."

--Elizabeth Fels

May 31: Tongues of Fire

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 26 May 2009 10:20:00 +0000

The lectionary readings for this week are Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:24-34, 35b; Romans 8:22-27; and John 15:26-27; 16:4b-15. I will focus on the reading from Acts. It serves as the foundation for Pentecost, which occurs on the seventh Sunday after Easter and is one of the main events of the Christian liturgical year. I am writing this entry from the perspective of describing Pentecost for someone having only a passing familiarity with it.

According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, Pentecost celebrated in a Christian context dates from the 1st century, and with accounts of it appearing in the writings of Irenaeus and Tertullian. For churches that use vestments, the color of Pentecost is red, symbolizing the love of the Holy Spirit or the tongues of fire. In Italy, there is a custom of scattering rose petals from the ceilings of churches to commemorate the tongues called Pascha rosatum.

The book of Acts is credited as being written by the same author of the Gospel of Luke. The setting of the passage is the Jewish spring barley harvest, described in Lev. 23 and Exodus 34:22, which fell fifty days after Passover.

The writer describes a gathering of Diasphora Jews who have come to Jerusalem to celebrate. There are both Greek and Arab Jews, and their places of origin include Egypt, Libya, and Rome. As the Episcopal priest Jim Callahan writes, it was a great day for multicultural, and a bad day for future lay readers faced with this passage: “Parthians, Elamites, Mesopotamians, Cappadocians, Phrygians, Pamphyilians,” etc.

The beginning of the passage describes the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the disciples. The author uses the metaphor of a “violent wind,” then states, “Divided tongues (γλώσσα), as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability” (2-4).

Shockingly, the author does not show the Jews expressing surprise at the extraordinary image of “tongues of fire” resting on each of the disciples. One can either assume the author uses them as a metaphor, or that his implication is that the tongues were only visible to disciples—or that the assembled company possesses exceptional savoir faire.

The author does, however, show the company expressing shock that each group hears its native language. Thus what the disciples display is not glossolalia, but coherent speech. Some are perplexed, and others wonder if the disciples are drunk: “filled with new wine” (13). Peter’s (to me hilarious) response is that they are not drunk, as “it is only nine o’clock in the morning” (15).

Curiously Luke does not purport to transcribe what the disciples were actually saying. Peter is thus left with the key speech. He continues, “No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
In those days I will pour out my Spirit;
and they shall prophesy.
And I will show portents in the heaven above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s
great and glorious day.

Peter is citing Joel 2:28-32. Readers might respond to the lines about slaves in different ways. Some might see this passage as an indication of the egalitarian quality of prophetic utterance that the Spirit enables, while others might reject what they see as an implied divinely ordained social hierarchy: as portrayed in these passages, God quickens slaves with prophesy, but does not seem to indicate that they will lose their title of "slaves."

Both the language of Joel and the language of the description of the Holy Spirit are in keeping with other passages from Hebrew Scripture describing theophanies, or appearances of God on earth. In Exodus 19:16-18, Yahweh descends to Mount Sinai in fire, wrapping the mountaintop in smoke. The “rush of a violent wind” signalling the outpouring of the Spirit recalls Genesis 1.2: “. . . while a might wind swept over the face of the waters”. In Luke the Theologian, Francois Bovon cites J Potin’s work on parallels between the gift of the Holy Spirit in Acts and the gift of the Law in Exodus. Potin writes that the exegesis of the Sinai passages in the Jewish community would have influenced the eschatological reflections of the Acts audience: “. . . in a theophany, God is associated with God’s regenerate people. As Acts 2 unfolds with and ideal portrayal of the community of the new covenant, this exegetical influence is confirmed” (Bovon, 259).

Following the German scholar E. Lohse, Bovon describes how, through this narrative, the author of Acts has two main goals: 1) “to signal the beginning of a new stage of redemptive history,” and 2) to establish the universality of the community, indicated by the broad swathe of people (Bovon, 252).

Callahan on the significance of Pentecost for congregations today writes,
“We are not told what they said . . . We are told, however, of the greatest of all miracles: everyone in the house understood each other.” Callahan credits the foundation of modern Christianity, not with Pentecost, but with Good Friday: Christ crucified “asked the Father to forgive us, and a few bewildered, broken-hearted women and men wandered off wondering how they were going to live with that. Pentecost was the day they got their answer: with great joy, and with wind and fire and Spirit, making them look like a bunch of happy drunks in the midst of a numbingly sober and sour world.

They learned that in belonging to God they belonged also to each other. The joy derived from their trusting contained power, power not only to gladden but also to heal and redeem.”

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Bovon, Francois. Luke the Theologian (2nd ed). Waco, Texas: Baylor University Press, 2006.

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. 188-198 NT.
Catholic Encyclopedia quoted by New Advent here:
http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/15614b.htm

“Windblown (Acts 2:1-11)” by Jim Callahan, published by The Christian Century:
http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=1963

May 24: Sermons with Personal Narratives

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 19 May 2009 09:56:00 +0000

I am starting a series interviewing Massachusetts pastors on practical aspects of preaching. Recently I heard a sermon that deeply moved me in Trinity Episcopal Church in Boston. Using a metaphor to describe divine mercy, the minister described his own experience of not finding a healthy relationship until later in life, in his 50s. In the sermon, he described the sensation of being too traumatized by past abandonment to be loved—his fear that, as soon as he revealed his emotional scars, his partner would leave him. He then drew an analogy between the experience of God’s unconditional love, and the shock that his relationship remained intact, even strengthened, after he revealed his personal vulnerability.

Afterwards I had a debate with a friend on the topic of sermons in which ministers use material from their personal lives to make a point about theology, or elucidate a biblical narrative, or create a metaphor. “Many people in congregations get uncomfortable when pastors do this,” my friend said. “It is a natural impulse to want to idealize the church’s spiritual leader. People don’t want to hear information that gets in the way of that idealization.”

It was a fair observation, and with that in mind, I asked two pastors from the church Highrock in Arlington for their views on this topic. How would they advise ministers interested in going from the abstract to the specific—who want to incorporate more narratives from personal life into their sermons, but feel concerned about negative reactions from their congregations?

Aaron Engler, Young Adult Ministry, Highrock:

“In our current cultural setting, people are craving and desiring authenticity and sincerity. Taking cues from our cultural context and looking at people like Paul, leadership is not necessarily about charging forward on a white horse, looking impeccable.

Real leadership means 1) to be vulnerable, 2) to give hope. The reality is that sin has been defeated. Death has no sting. I don’t have a problem with opening up, because Christ has suffered for my sin, and in Him I hope. I feel His spirit will strengthen and provide for me and carry me forward.

I would be wary, though, of using the pulpit as a confessional. But it’s highly appropriate to say how you faced sin in the past and came through. To say, ‘I was here, but Christ has redeemed me. I can stand here before you today because Christ has redeemed me, and there is victory.’”

To give a specific example of personal narrative in sermons, I recently heard Dave Swaim preach about the crisis he and his wife faced when, despite prayer, they were unable to have biological children. The Swaims now have three adopted children.

Dave Swaim, Lead Pastor, Highrock (Harvard Divinity School ’00):

“Philip Brooks said, preaching is the way the truth of God’s word passed through the prism of human personality.” I need to digest God’s word before I can express it to them.

People come to church feeling doubt, fear, anger, pain. The only way to show them how to avail themselves of the resources of God’s power, is to talk about times when I’ve been in those situations. People need to know that I am a struggler. They may feel uncomfortable. But unless we admit that we’re wrestling and struggling and discuss it, we’re not going to be victorious.

In The Problem of Pain, CS Lewis wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Unless you can identify your own pain, you’re not going to be able to lead other people. I speak out of the times God spoke to me in my own pain.

When interns at Highrock prepare to preach, they turn in an outline with four things: 1) the problem in the text; 2) a corresponding problem in our lives today; 3) the solution in the text; 4) the solution in our lives today.

In this week’s Gospel reading, Joseph and Mary lose Jesus, then find him in the Temple. The problem around which I built my sermon was the sensation of losing Jesus. This is an existential human dilemma: not being able to find God. Then I ask myself, how have I had a genuine encounter with the same thing? Can I give a testimony to show that God has been faithful when I have been in that situation?

Craig Barnes wrote that he is suspicious of every theology that doesn’t stand up in the emergency rooms of life. In a congregation as large as ours, every week there is at least one person there who is desperate, and this is their last chance to hear the word of God before they go out and do a desperate thing.

It’s important not go give false promises in your sermon. Like, “when you pray, God will give you what you need.

You cannot preach a good sermon unless you are willing to mine your own pain for the times you encounter God there. Essential human dilemmas that all of us experience, which transcend culture and demographics."

Starting next week, I will split this post into two entries—one with a Massachusetts pastor about a practical nuts and bolts aspect of preaching, and one on the lectionary. The lectionary readings for this week are Acts 1:15-17, 21-26; Psalm 1; I John 5:9-13; and John 17:6-19. This week I will focus on Psalm 1:

1 Blessed is the man
who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked
nor in the way of offenders has stood,
nor in the session of scoffers has sat.
2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he murmurs day and night.
3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
Whatever he does prospers.
4 Not so the wicked!
They are like chaff
that the wind blows away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.

As Robert Alter writes in The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary, this psalm is in the tradition of Wisdom literature. The Psalm develops a theological view of prosperity and suffering that is antithetical to that expressed in the Book of Job. In the latter, Satan argues that Job’s righteousness is merely a result of his happy, comfortable life. When Yahweh (translated as the LORD) calls Satan’s attention to Job’s virtue, Satan counters,

“Have you not put a fence around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. But stretch out your hand now, and touch all that he has, and he will curse you to your face” (Job 1:9-11).

This psalm, in contrast, interprets prosperity as directly linked with righteousness. Alter describes Wisdom literature as a genre in literature of the Near East in which universal, as opposed to national, principle for living are articulated. The Psalmist uses physical imagery that would resonate with an audience in a climate with scarce water. The person who anchors his life in divine teaching is like a tree growing near a water source. (Alter, 3-4). Alter writes of the opening verse,

“Walking on a way is a traditional metaphor for pursuing a set of moral choices in life. In this verse, that idea is turned into an elegant narrative sequence in the triadic line—first walking, then standing, then sitting, with the attachment to the company of evildoers becoming increasingly more habitual from one verset to the next” (Alter, 3).

Alter credits Nahum Sarna with positing that the psalm’s first word contains a pun: “the first word of the psalm, ’ashrei, ‘happy,’ may pun on ’ashurim, “steps,” and hence reinforce the walking metaphor” (Alter, 3).

The word hagah in the second verse is often translated as “meditate”; in the New International Version, the line reads, “on his law he meditates day and night.” Alter however writes that a more accurate translation of hagah would be to make a low muttering sound, “which is what one does with a text in a culture where there is no silent reading” (Alter, 3).

Finally, Alter highlights a linguistic parallel between the wicked who will not “stand up in judgment” in verse 5, and the act of “standing” with offenders in verse 1, although the two Hebrew words are different. The psalm posits a final moment of divine judgment, when those who sit with scoffers, like the chaff introduced in verse 4, “will have no leg to stand on (like chaff)” (Alter, 4).

The physical imagery and linguistic puns raise the question of whether or not the psalmist envisions a link between material prosperity and spiritual virtue: “. . . its leaf does not wither—and in all that he does he prospers” (v 3). The question then arises, how might a pastor interpret this passage for a reader who, despite prayer and honest effort, feels himself on the edeg of an abyss?

This question is directly relevant to the current time period, in which many people have the sensation of losing their material stability for reasons beyond their control. Members of a congregation might be resistant to biblical passages that posit that one-to-one connection between virtue and prosperity. However, since the psalmist uses metaphors from the natural world, not images of wealth that one might interpret as realistic (clothes, possessions, splendid architecture), I would argue that it is definitely possible to interpret the “prosperity” envisioned by the psalmist as spiritual, not necessarily material, wealth.

--Elizabeth Fels

May 17: Doulos

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 12 May 2009 08:12:00 +0000

The lectionary readings for this week are Acts 10: 44-48; Psalm 98; 1 John 5: 1-6; and John 15: 9-17. First, I will write about the use of the word δούλος as it is used in the Gospel reading, and second, I will give the transcript of interviews I made with pastors from High Rock church in Arlington. I am starting a series in which I’ll combine notes on the lectionary with interviews from Massachusetts pastors on a practical aspect of delivering sermons.

Part 1)

John 15: 9-17, from the NIV:

9"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. 11I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. 14You are my friends if you do what I command. 15I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. 17This is my command: Love each other.

In Greek, the term I highlighted is δδύλοϐ, or doulos. In English it is either as “slave” or “servant,” depending on the translation. “Servant” is used in the NIV, the King James, and the the New Oxford Annotated Bible; “slave” is used in the New American Standard Bible, the New Living Translation, and the footnote for verse 15 of the New Oxford Annotated Bible. In the NASB, Jesus says, “15"No longer do I call you slaves, for the slave does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I have heard from My Father I have made known to you.”

The difference in language stems from ancient Greek having only one word with this implication. In English, the word “servant” implies a voluntary relationship from the side of the laborer. Although Americans use words like “Housekeeper” and “Nanny” for people who provide work in the home, it is assumed that the domestic workers our grandparents would have called servants were at-will employees. “Slave” on the other hand is indelibly associated with economic systems in which human beings are treated as the property of others: lacking the right to leave, refuse to work, or earn wages, whether in the South in the 19th century, or in sites of human trafficking in modern times. Dated to the 13th century, the English word “slave” originated from “Slav,” because during the Holy Roman Empire, many conquered Slavic people were sold into slavery. (1)

One question that readers of this passage might have is, which meaning of doulos would Jesus have intended? Would he and his disciples have understood doulos as containing the meaning of the modern word “slave,” or “servant”?

In A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Early Christian Literature, doulos is literally defined as “a male slave as an entity in a socio-economic context.” However in the New Testament, the word is used in many different metaphorical contexts.

In Galatian 3:28, Paul refers to slavery in what might have been an early baptismal formula: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Here slavery is refered to as a social distinction that is erased by union with Christ.

Elsewhere Paul refers to slavery in a pejorative sense, implying a state of being controlled by sin. In Romans 16:6-7, he says, “. . . our old self was crucified with Him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin; 7for he who has died is freed from sin.”

In contrast, Christ uses the motif of the slave in a positive sense, implying a radical humility and willingness to serve others. After James and John ask to sit at Christ’s right and left hand, sharing glory, Christ replies, “. . . and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; 28just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many." This rhetorical move is in keeping with other passages in which Jesus exaggerates in extraordinary language to make a point. The metaphor, which might have sounded radical at the point of utterance, can also be read as a verbal signpost signifying Christ’s crucifixion. It is also in keeping with the image of the Suffering Servant in Isaiah 53, taken by Christians as a prophecy of Christ as the Messiah.

Finally, the word doulos is also used in metaphors describing the submission of the human soul to God. In Luke 1:38, Mary makes a statement to Gabriel in which this word is often translated as “servant” or “handmaiden,” but which might be translated as slave: “I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Using the equivalent in Hebrew, Prophets as called slaves of God in Jer 25:4, Amos 3:7, and Daniel 9:6. In 2 Corinthians 4:5, the chapter from which the band Jars of Clay take their name, Paul characterizes the apostles and himself as slaves of Christ, sent to serve the Corinthians: “For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus' sake.”

One resource that addresses the question of what the lives of slaves were like during the Roman Empire in which Christ and Paul lived is Slavery and Society at Rome, by K. R. Bradley, a professor of Classics and History and Notre Dame (Cambridge University Press, 1994). Bradley writes that it is difficult to learn about the daily life of slaves in the Roman Empire, as accounts of them are written by historians from the slave-holding classes such as Plutarch.

Noting that a slave Plutarch writes about does not even have a name, he argues that slaves’s role was to provide labor; they did not have legal rights, could not own property, or have legally recognized marriages. Many slaves were taken from the ranks of armies that fought against Rome; POWs were sent to slave markets. For this reason, it can be assumed that slaves often lacked a sense of class solidarity, coming from extremely different populations. However, the gladiator Spartacus who led a rebellion of slaves in 73-71 BC that defeated several Roman legions, the followers of which were crucified. After this rebellion, the philosopher Seneca wrote of a proposal in the Roman Senate to make slaves wear distinctive clothing. However, this proposal was not enacted, because it was feared that slaves would then realize their numbers and strength. Bradley writes,

“In the mid-first century AD an anonymous slave murdered his master, a high official in the imperial administration, either because the master had reneged on a promise to set the slave free or because the two were rivals in a sexual intrigue.
The aftermath was disastrous. Roman law required a man's slaves to come to his aid if he were attacked, under penalty of death. The law was enforced against those slaves who had not come to the victim's aid in this case, and all the slaves in the household - allegedly 400 of them - were executed, even though most of them could not possibly have known anything about the murder.” (2)

Learning about the lives of slaves from Roman texts and archeological evidence allows us to recover the radical nature of biblical metaphors in which doulos is used as an analogue for a spiritual state.

--Elizabeth Fels

(1) Online Etymology Dictionary: http://www.etymonline.com

(2) Quotation and information from this section cited from BBC online article http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/slavery_01.shtml.

Danker, Frederick William, ed. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Early Christian Literature, 3rd ed. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2000.

May 10: Beyond the rivers of Ethiopia

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 05 May 2009 10:25:00 +0000

The lectionary readings for this week are Acts 8:26-40; Psalm 22:25-31; 1 John 4:7-21; and John 15:1-8. In this entry, I will focus on the encounter between Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch in Acts 8.

The events of Acts 8 occur in a context of extreme upheaval in the early Church. In the previous chapter, Luke describes the martyrdom of Stephen in what appears to be a lynching by stoning. The detail of witnesses laying their coats at the feet of Saul (who will become Paul) implies a judicial execution. In the wake of Stephen’s death, the early followers of Jesus leave Jerusalem and disperse to the countryside of Judea and Samaria (8:1). Yet as a result of the persecution, the scattered followers preach the Gospel in new areas. This passage is significant in that it describes the evangelizing of possibly the first non-Jewish converts (notes from NOAB).

Chapter 8 describes two acts of baptism. In order to contextualize the passage in this week’s lectionary, it is useful to compare it to Peter’s encounter with the Samaritans directly preceding. Samaritans were descendents from the inhabitants of Samaria, the capital of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, who occupied that area after the Assyrian invaded and deported the Jewish population in 722 BCE. While Samaritans observed the Pentateuch and considered their ancestors to be the small number of Jews allowed to remain in the Northern Kingdom, Jews returning from exile did not consider them to be authentically Jewish, but rather the descendents of usurpers of land that had previously been theirs. Ezra and Nehemiah went so far as to forbid intermarriage between the two groups (NOAB, Glossary, 552). In The Misunderstood Jew, Amy-Jill Levine argues that although much biblical commentary portrays Samaritans as an oppressed minority, it would be more accurate to regard the two groups as religious rivals (Levine, 148). They shared holy texts, but observed different calendars and worshipped at different temples, as the Samaritan woman at the well indicates to Jesus. In order to recover the punch of the Good Samaritan parable, one might imagine, for example, not a homeless person helping a rich man, but Unitarian helping a Pentecostalist or vice versa.

A significance of the juxtaposition of the Ethiopian Eunuch narrative with the narrative of the Samaritans is that both depict groups outside the demographic of the Apostles’ first followers. Just as the Gospel of Luke emphasizes the role of Gentiles in Jesus’ mission, so the book of Acts shows early Christian leaders reaching across cultural boundaries in order to preach the Gospel.
“Eunuch” in the time period of Acts generally refers to a castrated man who has an official function in the home or government of a ruler. The word’s etymology comes from eune, or “bed,” and ekhein, “to keep.” Unable to have children, eunuchs may have been considered more reliable, as they could neither have children with women in the royal household nor found a rival dynasty to threaten the ruler. However, not having a family to defend them may have also put eunuchs in a position of greater vulnerability.

The passage of this week’s lection begins as follows:

26Now an angel of the Lord said to Philip, "Go south to the road—the desert road—that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza." 27So he started out, and on his way he met an Ethiopian eunuch, an important official in charge of all the treasury of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians. This man had gone to Jerusalem to worship, 28and on his way home was sitting in his chariot reading the book of Isaiah the prophet. 29The Spirit told Philip, "Go to that chariot and stay near it."
30Then Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading Isaiah the prophet. "Do you understand what you are reading?" Philip asked.
31"How can I," he said, "unless someone explains it to me?" So he invited Philip to come up and sit with him.

Two aspects that stand out from 26-31 are Philip’s receptiveness to guidance from the Holy Spirit directing him to the Eunuch, and the Eunuch’s desire to be taught. The passage depicts Philip acting as an instrument of the Lord, approaching the chariot at the command of a divine messenger. A contrast Luke draws attention to concerns their difference in what one might call class; the Eunuch is a person of political power, in charge of the royal treasury of Ethiopia. He is leaving Jerusalem, where he acquired a scroll of Isaiah. When Philip approaches him, he is reading the text without comprehension. This section calls to mind Peter Gomes’ introduction to The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Heart and Mind. Gomes states that for many churchgoers, reading the Bible is like overhearing a conversation in fluent French at a neighboring table, trying, yet failing to understand with one’s high school French. However the Eunuch actives reaches out to Philip, requesting assistance.

32The eunuch was reading this passage of Scripture:
"He was led like a sheep to the slaughter,
and as a lamb before the shearer is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.
33In his humiliation he was deprived of justice.
Who can speak of his descendants?
For his life was taken from the earth."
34The eunuch asked Philip, "Tell me, please, who is the prophet talking about, himself or someone else?" 35Then Philip began with that very passage of Scripture and told him the good news about Jesus.

The passage which the Eunuch is reading is Isaiah 53:7-8. This chapter of Isaiah contains what is often called the depiction of the suffering servant, a passage that Christians have interpreted as prophesying Jesus’s suffering, vicarious atonement for human sin, and resurrection. Luke may have also intended the narrative of the Eunuch to resonate with readers familiar with God’s outreach to eunuchs expressed in Isaiah 56:3-5:

Let no foreigner who has bound himself to the LORD say,
"The LORD will surely exclude me from his people."
And let not any eunuch complain,
"I am only a dry tree."
4 For this is what the LORD says:
"To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths,
who choose what pleases me
and hold fast to my covenant-
5 to them I will give within my temple and its walls
a memorial and a name
better than sons and daughters;
I will give them an everlasting name
that will not be cut off.

Other passages that highlight the relationship between God and Ethiopia are Zeph 10.3("From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia my suppliants, my scattered ones, shall bring my offering"), and Psalm 68:31 (“let Ethiopia hasten to stretch out to God.”) These passages indicate the important role Africa has in the texts that make up the biblical canon.

The passage from Acts 8 continues:

36As they traveled along the road, they came to some water and the eunuch said, "Look, here is water. Why shouldn't I be baptized?"38And he gave orders to stop the chariot. Then both Philip and the eunuch went down into the water and Philip baptized him. 39When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord suddenly took Philip away, and the eunuch did not see him again, but went on his way rejoicing. 40Philip, however, appeared at Azotus and traveled about, preaching the Gospel in all the towns until he reached Caesarea.
The following passage from IVP New Testament Commentaries, quoted by biblegateway.com, interprets this passage as in keeping with the overarching motif of radical includion in Luke’s texts:

"One of Luke's great concerns is that obstacles of age (Lk 18:16), religious tradition, old or new (Lk 9:49-50; 11:52), race or ethnic origin (Acts 10:47; 11:17), or physical condition (8:36, if the eunuch were one physically) must not keep people from hearing and applying to themselves the gospel of salvation. His ideal is found in the closing phrase, indeed the closing word, of Acts: "Boldly and without hindrance he preached the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ" (28:31). . . . Though Philip is taken away suddenly, the eunuch goes on his way rejoicing. For Luke and us, joy is a manifestation of a person's salvation (8:8; Lk 6:23; 10:20), particularly of reception of the Holy Spirit (Acts 13:52)."

This commentary particularly draws attention to the joy felt by the Eunuch which characterizes his conversation. The following is a clip of the Alison Krause song “Down in the River to Pray,” used in the baptism scene in the Coen Brothers film, O Brother Where Art Thou:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBjwMRa_jhg&feature=PlayList&p=23532204B4AD7A0E&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=46

--Elizabeth Fels

Information on the spread of Christianity in Ethiopia can be found in these resources:

http://www.bethel.edu/~letnie/EthiopiaHomepage.html

http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/acet/hd_acet.htm

Other sources:

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Levine, Amy-Jill. The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus. New York: HarperOne, 2006.

Bible passages quoted from the New International Bible.

May 3: Shepherd Imagery

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 20:13:00 +0000

Shepherd imagery forms a central metaphor in the lectionary readings for this week, which are Psalm 23; Acts 4:5-12; 1 John 3:16-24; and John 10: 11-18. Concerning a practical aspect of preaching on these passages, I will also discuss different perspectives on incorporating challenging periods in one’s personal life into sermons.

Psalm 23 is popularly known in the King James version:

1The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Shepherd imagery used to describe characteristics of God is abundant in the Hebrew Scriptures, and then plays a central role in Christological narratives in the New Testament. A Web resource that systemically lists shepherd motifs from both Hebrew Scripture and the New Testament is the following section from 2π Bible Pages: http://www.2pi.info/bible/studies/ShepherdStudy/Shepherdsin.html. I should mention that the authors interpret these passages from a perspective that presupposes biblical inerrancy, which all readers might not necessarily share. Biblical narratives in which tending sheep plays a central role include those about Abel (Gen 1), Abraham (Gen 12), Jacob (Gen 30), and David (1 Samuel 16). In the Song of Solomon 4:2, praising his beloved’s physical attributes, the lover compares her teeth to sheep in a verse I always found somewhat amusing: “Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn ewes which have come up from their washing, all of which bear twins, and not one among them has lost her young.” I Kings 22:17 describes the prophet Micaiah predicting disaster for Israel if they go to battle at Ramothgilead against the Syrians: “And he said, I saw all Israel scattered upon the hills, as sheep that have not a shepherd: and the LORD said, These have no master: let them return every man to his house in peace.”

In notes on the Hebrew poetry of Psalm 23, Robert Alter writes, “. . . this psalm is justly famous for the affecting simplicity and concreteness with which it realizes the metaphor” (Alter, 78). The verb from 2, hirbits, is a specialized verb used for making animals lie down, thus extending the shepherd metaphor on the level of diction. While the phrase “He restoreth my soul” is arguably the most well-known, a more accurate translation of the Hebrew word nefesh would be “life breath” or “life.” According to Alter, the image is of a person who has almost stopped breathing, who then has been revived. It’s a term for a biological state that emphasizes God’s power to heal. In 4, the Hebrew word typically translated as “the shadow of death” is tsalmawet—tsel meaning “shadow,” and mawet “death.” Alter writes of the juxtaposition between this longer phrase that opens verse 4 and the condensed, “I fear no harm”: “The imbalance between this extremely brief verset and the relatively long first verset, equally evident in the Hebrew, gives these words a climactic effect as an affirmation of trust after the relatively lengthy evocation of the place of fear” (Alter, 79).

The 2π Website referenced earlier provides cross-references to other passages that use imagery based on the motifs of a shepherd’s rod and staff. In Ezekiel 20:37, the prophet says, “And I will cause you to pass under the rod, and I will bring you into the bond of the covenant”. The writer(s) explain that the passage refers to the practice of making sheep pass under a rod for counting or inspecting. In Leviticus, Moses is described as commanding the Israelites to reserve every tenth sheep for God, in a practice that may be foundation for the contemporary practice of tithing ten percent of one’s income: “And concerning the tithe of the herd, or of the flock, even of whatsoever passeth under the rod, the tenth shall be holy unto the LORD” (Lev 27:32). According to the 2π Website, the flock of sheep would be herded through a narrow opening, and the shepherd, having dipped the tip of the rod in a colored material, would mark every tenth sheep. The staff could be also used for sheep handling, as a walking stick, or, like the rod, as a protective device against predators, such as wild animals or robbers.

The phrase from 5 translated in King James as “Thou anointest my head with oil” calls to mind ritual anointing of rulers by a priest and resonates with Messiah imagery discussed last week (Christos=“the anointed one”). Yet Alter explains why this is not the connotation of the Hebrew verb dishen, and that the phrase would be more accurately translated as “You moisten my head with oil.” Alter writes that the verb’s “associations are sensual rather than sacramental. Etymologically, it means something like “to make luxuriant.” This verse, then, lists all the physical elements of a happy life—a table laid out with good things to eat, a head of hair well rubbed with olive oil, and an overflowing cup of wine” (Alter, 79).

John 10:11-18 describes Jesus using the metaphor of a shepherd to describe his relationship with humanity. This passage arguably both foreshadows his crucifixion and provides an explanation for it. According to the metaphor, God’s love for humans is like that of a shepherd willing to die defending sheep from attackers.

11"I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep.
12"He who is a hired hand, and not a shepherd, who is not the owner of the sheep, sees the wolf coming, and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.
13"He flees because he is a hired hand and is not concerned about the sheep.
14"I am the good shepherd, and I know my own and my own know me,
15even as the Father knows Me and I know the Father; and I lay down My life for the sheep.
16"I have other sheep, which are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will hear My voice; and they will become one flock with one shepherd.
17"For this reason the Father loves Me, because I lay down My life so that I may take it again.
18"No one has taken it away from Me, but I lay it down on My own initiative I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again This commandment I received from My Father."

The passage characterizes the love of God as actively reaching over boundaries. 16 reads, “I have other sheep, which are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will hear My voice . . .” I John 3, which may have been written either by the same author as the Gospel of John or by writers who inherited his teaching, exhorts listeners to apply the metaphor of the shepherd to their relations with each other. Jesus’ self-sacrificing love can be a model for selflessness as an active virtue in communal life. 1 John 16-17 reads, “We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?”

This week I had a discussion about sermons in which pastors use their personal lives as examples, specifically referring to challenges they faced in their past and presenting themselves to their congregation in a less-than-sterling light. This is a familiar method of preaching to me, which can be described as giving a “testimony”: the preacher describes the affects of God’s grace on his or her own life. Passages such as Psalm 23 offer particular openings for sermons of this kind. My conversation partner however argued that members of a congregation typically want to idealize the figure of the church leader, and may get turned off when ministers reveals to their human fallibility. I am interested in hearing from readers who preach and would like to share thoughts on this topic. If you email your perspectives to the address mbsintern@gmail.com, I will incorporate them into next week’s blog entry, either anonymously or not as you indicate.

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Alter, Robert. The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2007.

Bible verses quotes from biblegateway.com and NOAB.

http://www.2pi.info/bible/studies/ShepherdStudy/Shepherdsin.html.

April 26: What is a Messiah?

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 08:51:00 +0000

“Messiah” is a term that can take on an aura of familiarity, without a reader having a precise idea what it means. Its most ubiquitous place in pop culture outside of the Bible is Handel’s Messiah, which can lead one to the assumption that it is synonymous with “Jesus Christ” or “Son of God.” In this blog entry I will examine the meanings that a Jewish audience in Jesus’ time may have attributed to this term, and how it is used in the Gospel reading of this week’s lectionary, Luke 24:36-48.

This passage depicts Jesus’ appearance to the disciples after he has risen from death. Earlier in the chapter, Jesus has appeared to two disciples on their way to Emmaus, who at first do not recognize him. He overhears them discussing the events surrounding his crucifixion. One of them, Cleopas, expresses what might be surprise, disillusion, or a combination of the two: “We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (24:21). The term “redemption” connects to the prophecy of John the Baptist’s father in Luke 1:68: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.” Jesus, who the men on the way to Emmaus initially do not recognize, refers to himself as the Messiah, specifically in the context of fulfilling prophecy in the Hebrew Scripture: “Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory? Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures” (24:26-27). Passages from the Psalms that can be interpreted as presaging the Passion narrative include 2:7; 22:1-18; 69:1-21; and 118:22. In the passage from the lectionary, the term Messiah is used again:

36 While they were telling these things, he himself stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be to you."
37 But they were startled and frightened and thought that they were seeing a spirit.
38 And he said to them, "Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts?
39 See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself; touch me and see, for a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have."
40 And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet.
41 While they still could not believe it because of their joy and amazement, he said to them, "Have you anything here to eat?"
42 They gave him a piece of a broiled fish;
43 and he took it and ate it before them.
44 Now he said to them, "These are my words which I spoke to you while I was still with you, that all things which are written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled."
45 Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures,
46 and he said to them, "Thus it is written, that the Messiah would suffer and rise again from the dead the third day,
47 and that repentance for forgiveness of sins would be proclaimed in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem.
48 "You are witnesses of these things.

The word messiah comes from the Hebrew mashiah, or “anointed one.” According to NOAB, it can refer to a title for a king or other servant or agent of God, such as a priest, and in Isaiah 45:1 it is used to refer to the non-Israelite Cyrus of Persia. The corresponding Greek word would be christos, also meaning “anointed one.” Christian communities eventually took up this word to refer to Jesus.

The New Testament Scholar Amy-Jill Levine, in The Misunderstood Jew: the Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus, describes a lack of consensus in Jewish communities concerning the exact connotation of the term messiah:

“Not all Jews in the first century—or ever—have believed that a messiah was coming. Neither was there general agreement upon messianic attributes; there was no checklist that included

Being born to a virgin mother
Receiving a direct commission from God
Defeating Satan’s temptations
Walking on water” (Levine, 56).

According to Levine, with the exception of Paul, no Jewish source contains a prophecy that the messiah as a future king will be raised from the dead after three days. Although Hosea 6:1-2 includes a description of God striking down, and then healing, Israel after three days, the reference is not to a single person, but to a people. However, Levine does describe Jewish people who believed in the concept of a future primary messiah associating this figure with the coming of the messianic age, as described by the prophet Micah (Levine, 56-57). The messianic age is characterized by many nations, not just Israel, uniting in worship of one God; the cessation of strife; and the fulfillment of justice:

Many nations shall come and say:
“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.”
For out of Zion shall go forth instruction,
And the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between many peoples,
and shall arbitrate between strong nations far away;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more;
but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees,
and no one shall make them afraid. (Micah 4:2-4)

Levine also notes that Luke 4:18 shows Jesus citing Isaiah 61:1-2 when describing the messianic age: “release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind.” The concept of the resurrection of the dead appears in later sections of Isaiah and the book of Daniel. The descriptions of the Saducees in the Gospels and Acts indicate that, while some groups of Jews believed in a bodily resurrection before time of Jesus, others did not. According to Acts 23:8, “The Saducees say that there is no resurrection, or angel, or spirit; but the Pharisees acknowledge them all.” Levine also cites Martha, the sister of Lazarus described in John 11, as indicative of a belief among first-century Jews of a resurrection of the dead: “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day” (Levine, 57-58).

Within this context, one can understand why many did not accept Jesus as the figure who would usher in the messianic age. If one associated the figure of the messiah with the realization of universal peace, justice, and shared allegiance to one God depicted in Micah 4, the continued existence of the Roman Empire, with its attendant inequities, would have clashed with this vision. Thus one can understand how different views of the term Messiah would lead people to whom the disciples preached to either reject Jesus as the harbinger of the messianic age, or to reevaluate and expand their conception of the Messiah as a figure who will undergo a Second Coming.

Other lectionary passages from this week: Acts 3:12-19; Psalm 4; 1 John 3:1-7.

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Levine, Amy-Jill. The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus. New York: HarperOne, 2006.

April 19: When Kindred Live Together

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 09:16:00 +0000

A common thread through the lectionary passages for this week is the depiction of gestures toward what one might call unity. Psalm 133 can be read as a prayer for unification between the northern and southern kingdoms of Israel; Acts 4:32-35 describes a level of communality among early Christians that would be considered radical today, specifically individuals selling land and property in order to contribute to a shared pool of resources; and John 1 encapsulates the incarnation: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Psalm 133 will be familiar to readers of Marilynne Robinson’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel Gilead, in which it figures:

Behold, how good and how pleasant it is
When kindred dwell together in unity!
2It is like the precious oil upon the head,
Coming down upon the beard,
Even Aaron's beard,
Coming down upon the edge of his robes.
3It is like the dew of Hermon
Coming down upon the mountains of Zion;
For there the LORD commanded the blessing--life forever.

Cross references for this passage are as follows. The oil upon Aaron’s beard recalls passages Exodus 29:7 and 30:25-30, both of which describe the anointing of Aaron to the priesthood with oil. In 30, Yahweh gives instructions to Moses to take ingredients including spices, liquid myrrh, cassia, and olive oil, “. . . and you shall make of these a sacred anointing oil blended as by the perfume; it shall be a holy anointing oil. . . You shall anoint Aaron and his sons, and consecrate them, in order that they may serve me as priests.” The edge of Aaron’s robe is described in Exodus 28:33:

“On its lower hem you shall make pomegranates of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, all around the lower hem, with bells of gold between them all around . . . Aaron shall wear it when he ministers, and its sound shall be heard when he goes into the holy place before the LORD, and when he comes out, so that he may not die.”

The use of dew imagery to describe the divine is also seen in Hosea 14:5: “I will be like the dew to Israel . . .” The language of Psalm 21 also points to the theme of eternal life as a blessing from God: “In your strength the king rejoices, O LORD, in your help how greatly he exults! . . . He asked you for life; you gave it to him—length of days forever and ever” (1-4). The reference to Aaron may allude to the theme of the divine choice of kings expressed in 132:11-12. In juxtaposition with Psalm 132, 133 can be read as an expression of a desire to reunite the Northern and Southern Kingdoms, with Zion (Jerusalem) as a capital, under the kingship of a descendent of David.

The passage from Acts 4 describes a group of early Christians in Jerusalem embodying unity through sharing of assets. Barnabas, who later accompanies Paul on missions, is held up as exemplifying the willingness, not only to share one’s possessions, but to relinquish private ownership itself: “There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need” (Acts 4: 32-35). The following chapter contrasts Barnabas with Ananias and Sapphira, who do not follow the model of offering private resources for a common pool and thus suffer punishment presented as coming from God.

Before providing concluding notes on the lectionary, I would like to address a subject that has brought American religious practice into the spotlight for the past week, as it relates to this theme of unity: the decisions of the Iowa Supreme Court and the Vermont legislature to recognize same-sex marriages. In much of the media coverage of these two events, there is a trend to depict opponents of marriage equality as staunch Christians, but to either omit discussing the religious identity of marriage-equality supporters, or to emphasize their lack of religious belief or practice. An example is the following excerpt from New York Times columnist Charles Blow:

“The passage of gay marriage legislation in Vermont is momentous, but not necessarily a sign of momentum. Of all the states with pending gay marriage legislation, Vermont may well have been the easiest. Why? Because Vermont is the least religious. Opponents of gay marriage often base their arguments on religious texts.”–Charles Blow
This article made me remember the church I attended in Iowa City in 2000 to 2003, Trinity Episcopal, which was picketed by Fred Phelp’s protestors for being LGBT-friendly. My Iowan roommate sang in a LGBT choir at another church. Although many of the loudest voices protesting same-sex marriage come from self-identified Christians, there is a large literature on Christian communities that actively welcome homosexuals and homosexual couples, including through support of same-sex marriage.

My most vivid encounter with an opponent of marriage equality occurred in the fall of 2006, when the Anglican bishop N. T. Wright spoke at Harvard Memorial Church. Addressing a group of Episcopalian students and grad students, Wright compared the American and Canadian branches of the Episcopal Church to “a housemate who does not clean the bathroom.” While Wright’s comment shocked me, the developments he was referring to—the ordination of Gene Robinson and the blessing of same-sex marriages—represented a clear trend in an American church to bless marriages of committed homosexual couples. It is remarkable to consider that it was only in 2003, in Lawrence v. Texas, that the United States Supreme Court struck down state laws criminalizing sex between partners of the same gender. In England, with the exception of a brief period in the 1500s, homosexual sex was a capital offense from 1553 until 1828—which would have been in keeping with Leviticus 20:13.

For readers who are ministers and planning to preach on this topic in the near future, I recommend Chapter 8 of Peter Gomes’ The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Heart and Mind. The book is a collection of essays on the Bible and controversial topics. Chapter 8 is called “The Bible and Homosexuality: The Last Prejudice,” and the writer examines passages in both the Hebrew Scriptures and in the New Testament that address homosexuality, and offers methods of interpretation.

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Biblical commentary from The New American Standard Bible, available on biblegateway.com;

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

http://blow.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/11/vermont-victory-revisited/?scp=1&sq=vermonts%20nones&st=Search

http://www.law.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/wilde/wildelawpage.html

Gomes, Peter. The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Heart and Mind. New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996.

Other lectionary readings for this week: John 20:19-31; 1 John 1:1-2:2.

April 12: Dark Shadows, White Birches

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 05:25:00 +0000

In the short story “The Bishop” from 1902, the Russian writer Anton Chekhov describes the days and nights of a bishop during Holy Week. The bishop is ill and dying, though at first he does not know this. During the course of the story, he holds services in the Orthodox cathedral, including a four-hour Good Friday reading of lessons from the Gospels; visits a sick woman; hears the concerns of parishioners; and interacts with his colleagues in the monastery. Lying in bed, he recalls different stages of his life in the ministry: the sounds of church bells combined with creaking wheels and bleating sheep in the peasant town where he grew up; his years studying theology at a university; his homesickness for Russia when stationed abroad.

Having an uncle who is an Episcopal Priest, I’m aware of the ways in which Holy Week is like a spiritual decathlon for members of the clergy. It is not only an extraordinary opportunity for meditation on Christ’s death on the Cross, affirmation of foundational Christian theological principles, and fellowship with one’s spiritual community, but also a time in which ministers, deacons, and lay leaders take care of hundreds of details. I remember Easter services in Kentucky with a cross of chicken wire, its slots filled with forsythia. Every year, someone had been responsible for propping up the cross before the service and storing it afterwards. Ministers in churches served by a single clergy member—a common situation in rural areas and small towns like the one I’m from—write and delivery four different sermons on four back-to-back days.

In a few pages, Chekhov’s story renders an entire life spent in the ministry, including mundane aspects of the bishop’s role that frustrate him: “The senior clergy, all over the diocese, were in the habit of awarding good-conduct marks to junior priests, young or old, even to wives and children, and all this had to be discussed, scrutinized and solemnly recorded in official reports.” Yet Chekhov contrasts the bureaucratic obligations that are a part of church ministry with moments of ineffable beauty, such as the scene of parishioners departing from the Palm Sunday service:

Soon the service was over. As the bishop climbed into his carriage,
homeward bound, the whole moonlit garden was overflowing with
the joyful, harmonious ringing of heavy bells. White walls, white
crosses on graves, white birches, dark shadows, the moon high above
the convent—everything seemed to be living a life of its own, beyond
the understanding of man, but close to him nonetheless. It was early
April, and after that mild day it had turned chilly, with a slight frost,
and there was a breath of spring in that soft, cold air. The road from
the convent to the town was sandy and they had to travel at walking pace.
In the bright, tranquil moonlight churchgoers were trudging through
the sand, on both sides of the carriage. They were all silent and deep
in thought; and everything around was so welcoming, young, so near
at hand—the trees, the sky, even the moon—that one wished it would
always be like this.

Before starting the biblical commentary section of this blog entry, I would like to give thanks to readers who are ministers, for all that you do during Holy Week to help your congregations draw closer to God.

John 20: 1-18

This week’s lectionary selection from the Gospel emphasizes the role of Mary Magdalene. In the Gospel of John, she is portrayed as the first person to visit Jesus’ tomb after his crucifixion:

1 Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. 2So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don't know where they have put him!"

Other Gospel accounts of the Resurrection are Matthew 28; Mark 16; and Luke 24. The term “the other disciple, the one Jesus loved,” has been interpreted as the apparent narrator; we first see this description in John 13:23, in the scene when Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. The pronoun “They” could be used to describe grave robbers. However, robbers would not have left the expensive linen used for burial.

3 So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. 4Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. 6Then Simon Peter, who was behind him, arrived and went into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, 7as well as the burial cloth that had been around Jesus' head. The cloth was folded up by itself, separate from the linen. 8Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. 9(They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.)

Scriptural passages that describe the Resurrection include Luke 24; Acts 2:24-32; and 1 Corinthians 15.4.

10 Then the disciples went back to their homes, 11but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus' body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
13 They asked her, "Woman, why are you crying?"
"They have taken my Lord away," she said, "and I don't know where they have put him." 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

It is interesting to note differences between the Gospel accounts of this narrative. Luke describes Mary Magdalene going to the tomb first, but she is in a group of women that includes Mary the mother of James and Joanna. In contrast to the account in John, the group of women is met, not by Jesus, but by two men whose clothing and mysterious appearance indicate that they are angels. Jesus’ first appearance in Luke is to the two men on the way to Emmaus. In the longer version of Mark 16 that includes passages 9-20, Mary Magdalene, described as “the woman from whom he cast out seven demons,” and two other women encounter, not two, but one angel at the tomb; in Mark, Jesus first appears to Mary Magdalene alone. A distinction of Matthew 28 is that Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” actually get to see an angel forcibly rolling back the stone and sitting on it. Matthew is the only Gospel that includes an earthquake in this scene. The two women tell the disciples; it is not clear whether or not they are still there when Jesus appears. An element that all of the Gospels share is that Mary Magdalene, either alone or in a group, is in the first party to arrive at the tomb. A probable reason would be to anoint the body.

15 "Woman," he said, "why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?"
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him."
16 Jesus said to her, "Mary."
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, "Rabboni!" (which means Teacher).
17 Jesus said, "Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, 'I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.' "
18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: "I have seen the Lord!" And she told them that he had said these things to her.

Although it is not spelled out, there is a suggestion in the Gospel of John that the disciples did not believe Mary Magdalene. Jesus does not appear to the disciples until evening, and they are in the same house, with the door locked. Evidently they did not go to the tomb after Mary described meeting Jesus after the Resurrection.

I wish all of you a blessed Holy Week.

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:

Chekhov, Anton. The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories, 1896-1904. London: The Penguin Group, 2002.

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Other lectionary passages: Acts 10:34-43; Psalm 18: 1-2, 14-24; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11.

April 5: Words for God

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 09:00:00 +0000

One of my early memories of reading the Bible involves confusion at the different words used to describe God. While one can readily make analogies to human relationships in which a variety of words are used to address, describe, or give honor to one person—multiple words for “father” or “mother” come to mind—I remember specifically being confused by the contrast between the terms “God”, the standard New Testament translation, and Yahweh, which appeared in several Hebrew Scripture narratives. Also mysterious was the trend to capitalize all four letters of “LORD” in Hebrew Scripture. As a child I assumed that this was the writer’s way of giving God particular respect.

While a typical first-guess reaction to the term Yahweh is to understand it simply as the Hebrew word for “God”—in the same way that Spanish words sometimes appear untranslated in a Hemingway short story—this is not completely the case. In translations such as the King James, “LORD” is written in caps to indicate that the original Hebrew word is יהוה, or YHWH—the abbreviation referred to in Judaism as the tetragrammaton. In most modern Jewish communities, a prohibition against pronouncing the tetragrammaton is observed; for example, Orthodox Jewish communities use the term Hashem, or “the Name.” Describing the challenge of translating various Hebrew names for the divine, Robert Alter writes,

In the late-biblical period, only the High Priest in the Holy of Holies on the day of Atonement was allowed to utter the ineffable name. When several centuries later the Hebrew text of the Bible was assigned vowel markings, YHWH was vocalized as though it were ’adonai, “Master” or “LORD,” and was pronounced as ’adonai. The King James Version in most instances honors this precedent by translating the name as “the LORD,” using smaller upper-case font for the last three letters to indicate that there was something anomalous about the word (34-35, Introduction).

Other words in the Psalms which describe the divine include ’elohim and ’el, both meaning “God.” The word ’el in particular appears in many names in the Hebrew Scripture, including the name Israel given to Jacob after he wrestles with a mysterious spiritual being: “One who strives with God.” In some Psalms, “God” is also called Yah, which is likely an abbreviation of the tetragrammaton YHWH. This syllable also appears in the word Hallelujah, “Praise God.” (The word God itself, according to Merriam Webster, comes from Middle English, dates from before the 12th century, and is similar to the Old High German ‘Got.’) In the Psalms God is also sometimes called Elyon, or "the Most High."

The tetragrammaton appears in this week’s lectionary psalm for Palm Sunday, 118:
22 The stone the builders rejected

has become the cornerstone;
23 the LORD has done this,
and it is marvelous in our eyes.
24 This is the day the LORD has made;
let us rejoice and be glad in it.
25 O LORD, save us;
O LORD, grant us success.
26 Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD.
From the house of the LORD we bless you.

The image from 22, “The stone the builders rejected,” a metaphor indicating a reversal of expectations, is quoted in Luke 20:17 as Christ’s expression of Messianic hope. Lines 25 and 26, which were sung in Jewish communities to celebrate the Passover festival, are quoted in Mark 11:9-10, as Jesus is riding a colt into Jerusalem. Hosanna, a word often left untranslated, means “Save us”:

1As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples, 2saying to them, "Go to the village ahead of you, and just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 3If anyone asks you, 'Why are you doing this?' tell him, 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.' "
4They went and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, 5some people standing there asked, "What are you doing, untying that colt?"
6They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go.
7When they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it, he sat on it.
8Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields.
9Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,
"Hosanna!"
"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"
10"Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!"
"Hosanna in the highest!"
11Jesus entered Jerusalem and went to the temple. He looked around at everything, but since it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve.

The iconic image of Palm Sunday, Jesus entering Jerusalem on a colt, would have been understood as a fulfillment of a prophecy of Zechariah, in which a peasant king rides a donkey instead of a war-chariot. The related verse from the book of Zechariah is 9:9-10, translated in NOAB: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” This passage has been described to me as exemplifying difficulties of translating Hebrew into English. In Hebrew poetry, a common technique to add particular emphasis to an image involves duplication, or repeating a term. In this passage, an attempt at literal translation can result in the amusing image of the Messiah entering Jerusalem like a circus performer, with one foot on a donkey and one on a colt.

The Palm Sunday image of Jesus’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem also implies continuity between Jesus and David’s dynasty. 1 Kings 1:38 describes Solomon succeeding David as king of Israel: “So the priest Zadok, the prophet Nathan . . . went down and had Solomon ride on King David’s mule, and led him to Gihon. There the priest Zadok took the horn of oil from the tent and anointed Solomon.” The image of people spreading cloaks in the road before Jesus would also resonate with the audience as related to the spreading of cloaks when Elisha anointed Jehu to lead a rebellion against the Omride regime, described in 2 Kings 9:13: “Then hurriedly they all took their cloaks and spread them for him on the bare steps, and they blew the trumpet, and proclaimed, ‘Jehu is king.’” Finally, the image of palm branches, which we commemorate on Palm Sunday with crosses made of palm, links to an image from 1 Maccabees 13:51, in which the community celebrates Jerusalem’s independence: “. . . the Jews entered it with praise and palm branches, and with harps and cymbals and stringed instruments, and with hymns and songs . . .” The hymn of praise in Mark 11, a citation from Psalm 118, testifies to the enduring role the Psalms played in communal celebrations, in the time of David, the time of Christ, and our time today.

--Elizabeth Fels

Alter, Robert. The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2007.

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

March 29: Law in their Minds

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 04:54:00 +0000

This week I will focus on the Hebrew Scripture reading of the lectionary, Jeremiah 31:31-34.
Jeremiah was born in Anathoth, a city just north of Jerusalem, and probably descended from the Shiloh priesthood. His career is dated from approximately 625 to the fall of Jerusalem in 587 BCE. It spanned about forty years between the reigns of Josiah to Zedekiah, the last kings of Judah, who Jeremiah tried to influencing urging appeasement with Babylon rather than rebellion.

The events described in the book of Jeremiah, much of which was dictated to his assistant Baruch, are corroborated by nonbiblical sources. During this time period, the Babylonian Empire was rising in power and threatening Judah. Jeremiah was active during the siege of Jerusalem in 597 BCE. He would have seen refugees from the countryside pouring into Jerusalem as their towns were swallowed up by the Babylonians, and desperate famine from lack of food from the siege. Zedekiah, who has been described as not the strongest of kings, mounted a revolt against Babylon, expecting help from Egypt which never came.

Zedekiah’s revolt led to the destruction of Jerusalem in 587 BCE by Nebuchadnezzar, described in 2 Kings 25. This was one of the most pivotal traumas for the people of Israel and for the Jewish faith. The Babylonians used ramps to scale Jerusalem’s walls, destroyed the First Temple, and captured the royal family. Zedekiah was forced to witness the death of his sons, thus the extinguishing of the Davidic line, then blinded and taken prisoner. According to the book of Kings, a small number of residents were left to be plowmen and work in vineyards, but the majority of citizens were taken to Babylon in captivity. A major reason why the destruction of the Temple represented not just a political but a religious crisis was that so much of religious life revolved around worship at the Temple. An analogy would be if worship in America was centered around a single church building, and that building was destroyed. The Babylonian exile is still commemorated today in songs that take their chorus from Psalm 137, by artists including Sinead O’Connor and Sweet Honey in the Rock. An example can be found on the Web here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGKgCAKnzYo.

"By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down,
yea, we wept when we remembered Zion.
There on the poplars we hung out harps,
for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors asked us for songs of joy;
they said, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’
How can we sing the songs of the LORD
in a foreign land?”

One of my Jewish friends, hearing these lyrics set to a perky, reggae melody, asked me, “How can the song be so upbeat? Don’t they know the song is about something terrible?”

The historical events during Jeremiah’s career are significant for understanding the context in which the lectionary passage was written. Jeremiah understands himself as someone called to articulate God’s messages to Israel. Like Moses, Jeremiah at first hesitates and feels himself inadequate to the task. Yet God will put words in his mouth: “Do not say, ‘I am only a boy’; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you.” (1:7) Abraham Heschel identifies two main themes in tension the book of Jeremiah: God’s wrath at human cruelty, and God’s grief that humans must suffer from their own failures.

Unlike the book of Job, where suffering is not caused by human failure but occurs arbitrarily, the book of Jeremiah presents an interpretation of suffering as a consequence of sin. In the earlier chapters, God rails at social injustice committed by the people he has chosen: “They bend their tongues like bows . . . they have taught their tongues to speak lies; they commit iniquity and are too weary to repent. Oppression upon oppression, deceit upon deceit! They refuse to know me, says the LORD.” (9:3-6) Jeremiah describes physical privation as resulting from lack of righteousness: “. . . the cry of Jerusalem goes up. Her nobles send their servants for water, they return with their vessels empty. They are ashamed and dismayed and cover their heads, because the ground is cracked” (14:2-3). God describes the faithlessness of Israel using the metaphor of a broken marriage:

I remember the devotion of your youth,
your love as a bride,
how you followed me in the wilderness,
in a land not sown. . .
What wrong did your ancestors find in me,
that they went far from me,
and went after worthless things,
and became worthless themselves? (2:2-4)

Thus the passage from this week’s lectionary is a pivotal point in the entire book. The passage expresses confidence in a future time of renewal and restoration. In the midst of suffering, God affirms that the relationship with Israel will endure. The broken marriage metaphor from Jeremiah 2 is transformed into assurance of a new marriage covenant. There is a parallel in this passage with the book of the prophet Hosea. Hosea describes his marriage with a prostitute as a metaphor for God’s redeeming love for Israel. Although the prostitute Gomer leaves Hosea, he finds her and takes her back. Similarly, Jeremiah 31 describes God looking ahead toward a future time when the relationship with Israel will be restored. Another metaphor for this time involves God writing the law on the peoples’ hearts. This image is similar to an image from Song of Solomon, 8:6:

“Place me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
passion as fierce as the grave.”

It is not clear from this passage whether Israel’s forgiveness results from people’s repentance, or God’s unearned love:

31 "The time is coming," declares the LORD,
"when I will make a new covenant
with the house of Israel
and with the house of Judah.

32 It will not be like the covenant
I made with their forefathers
when I took them by the hand
to lead them out of Egypt,
because they broke my covenant,
though I was a husband to them,"
declares the LORD.

33 "This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel
after that time," declares the LORD.
"I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.

34 No longer will a man teach his neighbor,
or a man his brother, saying, 'Know the LORD,'
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest,"
declares the LORD.
"For I will forgive their wickedness
and will remember their sins no more."

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:
Blenkinsopp, Joseph. A History of Prophecy in Israel. Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1983.

Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Heschel, Abraham. The Prophets. New York: Harper & Row, 1962.

March 22: The Paradox of Grace

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 10:25:00 +0000

Grace is one of the most difficult theological terms for me to explain in everyday conversation. As opposed to, say, “soteriology,” “grace” is ubiquitous in popular culture—yet how many of us at the drop of a hat can define what it means? Coming from the Greek word Χάρις, or “charis,” it is the theme of the song “Amazing Grace,” and, on the opposite end of the pop culture spectrum, the TV crime-fighting show “Saving Grace.” It’s a popular name for girls, and part of the name of the hospital Seattle Grace where “Grey’s Anatomy” is set. In the lectionary reading Ephesians 2:1-10, “grace” is nothing less than the mechanism of salvation: “For by grace you have been saved.” In this week’s entry I will explore the concept of grace in this passage.

Ephesians 2:1-10

1 And you were dead in your trespasses and sins,
2 in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience.
3 Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest.
4 But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us,
5 even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved),
6 and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus,
7 so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.
8 For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God;
9 not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.
10 For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them (New American Standard Bible).

The city of Ephesus is located on the Aegean coast of Asia minor. It is one of the Pauline letters which some scholars doubt was actually written by Paul. Reasons for this doubt include theological concepts developed here but not elsewhere in the letters, such as salvation experienced during life on earth (2:4-10), and terms that are significant in Ephesians both not in other letters, like “heavenly places,” “dividing wall,” and “fellow citizen.” In addition, the rhetorical style in which the letters to the Ephesians are written features long, complex sentences, which the editors of the New Oxford Annotated Bible note are divided in the NRSV translation. However, there are several similarities in language between Ephesians and Colossians. If Ephesians was written by Paul, a probable date for them would be the late 50s. If it was written by a follower of Paul, it would have come after the 50s and likely modeled on Colossians.

A major theme of the letters, which is reflected in this passage, is the vision of a universal church. The language of Ephesians can also be traced to Jewish scripture, such as the so-called “Third Isaiah” in which the God of Israel is depicted as the God of all humanity. Regardless of who the author is, the book of Ephesians is part of the biblical canon and has played a major role in shaping Christian thought. We see the concept of a diverse church reflected in this particular passage: 2:1, “You who were dead in your trespasses and sins,” is addressed to Gentiles, while Jewish Christians are meant by the phrase “we too” (or “all of us”) in 2:3. The term grace then enters as the means by which the Christian community opens outward: “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast” (2:8-9). This line is similar to Romans 3:22-24: “For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by grace as a gift . . .”

Not long ago I had to respond to the question, “Isn’t all you have to do to get saved is believe in Jesus, regardless of how nice, or how much of a jerk, you are in your life? If this is true, how is it meaningful for a Christian to take a stand on social ethics?” I can imagine the asker of the question might have attended a church service like one I visited recently in which the preacher congratulated the congregation on “being saved.” Reading lines like Ephesians 2:8 out of context, it is not hard to see how one might get the impression that converting to Christianity takes away the gravity of moral decisions. According to the stereotype, a person can do harm all week, go to confession on Sunday, start with a clean slate, and repeat the cycle.

However, grace in this passage is not a license to do whatever we want, whenever we want. Rather it concerns our motivation for doing good, and the circumstances that make doing good possible at all. In Judaism and Christianity: Perspectives and Traditions, the authors Luther Harshbarger and John Mourant write,

Grace is probably the most crucial concept in western religious thought because it refers to the free and unmerited act by and through which God restores man. In essence grace is a paradox which affirms that every good in man and every good act is somehow from God rather than from the self (314).

Thus, when the author of Ephesians writes, “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast” (2:8-9), the point is not to denigrate the importance of serving others—it’s to give credit for being able to serve at all to God. Human access to divine mercy is not a reward for hitting a certain mark on a scale of good works—rather, we are inspired to do good works in joyful response to God’s love and mercy, embodied in the incarnation.

In Judaism and Christianity: Perspectives and Traditions, the authors argue that the stereotypical division of Judaism as a “religion of law” and Christianity as a “religious of grace” is quite false. For example, a fundamental characteristic of grace as described in this Ephesians passage is that it’s not something earned, but a free gift that God offers: “But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive . . .” (4-5). The language used to describe God directly recalls the Hebrew word hesed, or steadfast loving kindness. Hesed is used to describe God throughout the Hebrew Scripture, for example when God saves Jonah from the fish, despite Jonah’s refusal to preach to Nineveh. Harshbarger and Mourant highlight the parallel between the Christian concept of grace and the Jewish concept of being chosen: both versions are the result of God’s abundant love and mercy, not from any special virtue on the part of the people that, so to speak, forces God’s hand:

The election of Israel is a constant theme in the Tanakh and rabbinic literature. There is, however, never a suggestion that the election came through any merit of Israel. . . Grace, then, is closely associated with the Covenant and finds its expression in the Law. To be a Jew means to stand in Abraham’s place and at the foot of Sinai receive the Torah . . . Through the Law man enters a partnership with God as a man under commandment, yet free. Grace as it is manifested in and through the commandment does not diminish man’s freedom” (315).

For Christians, the authors differentiate between Catholic and Protestants conceptions of grace. The primary difference between Catholic and Protestant conception of grace concerns the role of the sacraments: “For the Roman Catholic, grace as a gift of God is an energy-giving virtue which is infused into the soul sacramentally. The sacraments are the effective signs of grace—grace made visible” (316). On the other hand, Luther claims that man is justified by grace through faith alone:

In grace God in His deepest being is performing a completely gratuitous act. There are no degrees of grace; either one is forgiven or one is not. . . The sacraments rightly administered and rightly received do embody the promises of God, but grace is not thereby restricted” (317).

Both strands of Christian theology hold that grace is that which makes it possible for humans to achieve anything. According to Ephesians 2:10 we are “created in Christ Jesus for good works,” yet God is the catalyst awakening us to this potential. God does not only demand goodness, but supplies us with the power to do good.

I would like to close by linking to two youtube versions of “Amazing Grace”, by the
country singer Leann Rimes: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iT88jBAoVIM&feature=related
and for bagpipe fans, the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkLXOWimMY8&feature=related

--Elizabeth Fels

Source for background on Ephesians:
Coogan, Michael, Ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Harshbarger, Luther H. and Mourant, John A. Judaism and Christianity: Perspectives and Traditions. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, Inc. 1968.

March 15: Ten Words

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 10:49:00 +0000

The Hebrew Scripture reading from the lectionary today has had recent appearances on late-night comedy shows. Representative Lynn Westmoreland from Georgia’s Third District appeared on the Colbert Report “Better Know a District” segment after co-sponsoring a bill that would require the display of the Ten Commandments in the House of Representatives and Senate. “I think if we were totally without them, we may lose our sense of direction,” Westmoreland said. When Colbert asked him to name the commandments, Westmoreland could only name three: “Don’t murder, don’t lie, don’t steal.”:
http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/70730/june-14-2006/better-know-a-district---georgia-s-8th---lynn-westmoreland

If he did not know the answer, like Sir Lancelot in Monty Python in the Holy Grail asking whether the old man guarding the bridge meant an African or a European swallow, Westmoreland could have asked Colbert whether he meant the Jewish, Eastern Orthodox, or Catholic version: these three religious communities have different versions of the ten commandments, or as they are literally called in biblical Hebrew, “the ten words.” In the Jewish tradition, Exodus 20.2 is considered the first of the ten words: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” In the Roman Catholic, Anglican, and Lutheran traditions, the commandments begin with Exodus 20:3-5, with the last two commandments concerning coveting a neighbor’s wife and his property separated. In the Eastern Orthodox and other Protestant traditions, the first commandment is 20.3, the second is 20.4-6, and coveting a neighbor’s wife and property are considered a single commandment.

Since I am focusing on Exodus 20:1-17 in this entry, for ease of reference I will post the reading into the text, from the New International Version:

And God spoke all these words:
2 "I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.
3 "You shall have no other gods before [a] me.
4 "You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. 5 You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, 6 but showing love to a thousand {generations} of those who love me and keep my commandments.
7 "You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God, for the LORD will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name.
8 "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. 9 Six days you shall labor and do all your work, 10 but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. 11 For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.
12 "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.
13 "You shall not murder.
14 "You shall not commit adultery.
15 "You shall not steal.
16 "You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor.
17 "You shall not covet your neighbor's house. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to neighbor."

While not everyone might be able to list off the ten commandments at the drop of a hat, they play a controversial role in modern culture: several court cases recently have addressed whether they can be displayed in public buildings. In 2005, the Supreme Court issued two 5-4 decisions on this topic, ruling that the Ten Commandments could be displayed outside the Texas Capital but not inside Kentucky court houses—or, as Jon Stewart put it, “Outside a building, okay, inside a building, not so much.”

An Alabama Supreme Court chief justice was fired recently for refusing to remove a two-ton display of the Ten Commandments from the lobby of the court house. “Three times I was asked by a prosecutor of this state, an attorney general, if I would deny God. Three times I said I would not,” he said at a press conference. Defenders of the right to display the Ten Commandments argue that they reflect the role religion has played in the development of the US. The opposing argument is that such displays are tantamount to an official endorsement of religion, violate the Establishment Clause of the 1st Amendment, and, in court houses in particular, imply that cases are judged according to religious laws.

In this entry, I would like to examine what can be inferred about the social setting of the people who received Exodus 20:1-17, using The Old Testament: A Historical and Literary Introduction and The New Oxford Annotated Bible as resources. Although the text describes God as giving Moses the Ten Commandments shortly after the Israelites' escape from slavery, “On the third new moon after the Israelites had gone out of the land of Egypt” (Ex.19:1), they are addressed to an agrarian community, where there are houses, oxen, donkeys, and slaves, or, as many translations tend to call them, “servants.” However, unlike in the Deuteronomic Code, there is no mention of a monarch, and the text is dated to the late second millennium BCE.

Interestingly, the text does not express a vision of what we would call today monotheism. The language of the passage, “you shall have no other gods before me” does not imply that there is only one God, but presumes the existence of other gods who are not to be ranked with Yahweh. This “messy monotheism,” as Paula Fredriksen calls it, is consistent with the presumed reference to the Ten Commandments in the book of Jeremiah, from the late seventh century BCE: “You steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, make offerings to Baal, and go after other gods that you have not known” (Jer. 7:9). Often in the prophet writings, language of marital fidelity is used to describe the people’s commitment to God, or lack thereof.

Like the Noaheide laws, in the Hebrew Scripture reading from the first week of Lent, the Ten Commandments are written in language that implies a treaty structure. The passage begins with God, the stronger power, describing what He has done for Israel, and then describing how He should be honored. The first four commandments concern the people’s relationship to the divine: the second commandment prohibits the making of “idols,” which can be understood as images of God. The prohibition against making idols would have differentiated the Israelites from neighboring groups, who made animal and human images to depict deities. I remember my Hebrew Scripture professor talking about traditions in the Jewish and Muslim faiths of not visually portraying the divine, describing the complex, intensely colorful flowers that characterize Islamic art. He remarked dryly, “Christianity is a stunning exception.” From Michelangelo to South Park, prohibitions against rendering the divine in a visual image have apparently not been enforced for some time in Christian communities. The prohibition against “making wrongful use of the name of the LORD your God” may have implied invoking the name of God in an efforts to use magic or sorcery, attempts to gain control over the divine.

The other six commandments involve human relations with each other. Michael Coogan writes, “A man’s life, his marriage, his person . . . his reputation, and his property were to be inviolable by another Israelite (his “neighbor.”) Two other major areas in which the culture of contemporary religious communities do not reflect the moral norms expressed in the Ten Commandments concern the status of women and slaves. Exodus 20.17 often gets translated with the word “servants,” as in, “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or manservant or maidservant, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.” I once heard a sermon in which the pastor said, “they were more like modern-day employees.” However as seen in the next chapter of Exodus, the laws governing this relationship bear closer relation to what we would call slavery than, say, a Jane Austen-era cordial servant-employer relationship. Exodus 21:7 reads, “When a man sells his daughter as a slave, she shall not go out as the male slaves do. In Exodus 21 we read,

When you buy a male Hebrew slave” (note the adjective “male”), he shall serve six years, but in the seventh he shall go out a free person . . . If his master gives him a wife and she bears him sons or daughters, the wife and her children shall be her master’s and he shall go out alone.

The much-quoted line “you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife” falls before the prohibition of coveting donkeys or oxen, but after that of coveting a neighbor’s house. No mention is made of a neighbor’s husband, because the language of the Ten Commandments in Hebrew uses the second person masculine singular. Like other groups from this time period, the Israelite society structure was patriarchal, and the commandments are specifically addressed to men.

Fun Fact: in Exodus 34, after the golden calf debacle, Moses breaks the tablets containing the text of the commandments, and God tells him to go back to Mount Sinai for another copy. But the text in Exodus 34 is slightly different from Exodus 20—the new commandments focus less on human treatment of each other and more on worship, and for that reason are called the “Ritual Decalogue.” It can be inferred from the presence of differences in the texts that there was more than one tradition of the Ten Words, and that the writer(s) of Exodus placed more weight on including them than in making them match.

One last observation on this week’s lectionary reading: the last verse of Psalm 19 is incorporated into Sweet Honey in the Rock’s hauntingly beautiful a capella version of “By the Waters of Babylon”: “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable unto you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.”

--Elizabeth Fels

March 8: Jesus's Jewish Context

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 10:03:00 +0000

This week I will focus on the Gospel reading of the lectionary, Mark 8: 31-38. While in the last reading, we saw the Gospel open with Jesus’ baptism and the beginning of his mission, the passage this week portrays Jesus’ role as a suffering servant, his death, and resurrection. Jesus uses the phrase “Son of Man” to describe himself: “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering . . . and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside to rebuke him (31-32). The phrase “Son of Man,” or literally “human being,” has been called a reference to the angelic figure who appears in Daniel 7:13-14, representing the renewal of Israel:

I saw one like a human being
Coming with the clouds of heaven.
And he came to the Ancient One
And was presented before him.
To him was given dominion
And glory and kingship,
That all people, nations, and languages
Should serve him.
His dominion is an everlasting dominion
That shall not pass away,
And his kingship is one
That shall never be destroyed.

In Mark’s passage, Jesus goes on to say, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” This would have been an extremely graphic metaphor to Jesus’ audience of Jews living in Roman-occupied Caesarea Philippi. As demonstrated by the Passion story, but supported by historical evidence apart from the Bible, agitators in the Roman Empire who state officials deemed threatening were forced to carry the crossbeams on which they would then be hung for several days until suffocating to death.
One aspect of this Gospel reading that stands out is the way that the Jewish religious elite are portrayed. At this juncture of the scene, Jesus has just told the disciples that he is the Messiah (“anointed one”), the figure bringing about Israel’s renewal. Yet he will be a martyr-Messiah: not a ruler wielding political power, freeing Israel from Rome, and reinstating the Davidic line of kings. In addition he will not be recognized as the Messiah by the religious elite of his time: “rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed . . .” (31).
While preparing for this blog, I came across an editorial in Monday’s Boston Globe edition on the Vatican rejecting the “apology” from Richard Williamson. As the international press has widely reported, Williamson is a bishop of the breakaway Society of Pope Pius X whose excommunication was recently lifted by the Pope Benedict: http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/editorial_opinion/editorials/articles/2009/03/02/a_bishops_bad_faith_apology/. Interviewed on Swedish television earlier this year, Williamson stated that “not one Jew was killed by gas chambers, it was all lies, lies, lies.” Although at the prompting of the Vatican, Williamson regretted causing harm, he did not go so far as to recant his denial of the Holocaust.
While this is an extreme example of a self-identified Christian leader making anti-Semitic statements, this narrative calls to mind the conflictual history between Judaism and Christianity. On one hand, parishes across the US have robust interfaith dialogue programs promoting mutual understanding. Paula Fredriksen, Professor of Ancient Christian at Boston University, writes of efforts of Catholic leaders to combat anti-Semitism: “. . . popes and bishops, in plenum councils, have issued official (‘magisterial’) teachings against it. Anti-Semitism violates magisterial instruction touching on biblical interpretation, on the theological significance of Christ’s sacrifice, and on Catholic-Jewish relations.” (1)
Yet as the Williamson story reminds us, tension between Jewish and Christian communities has not disappeared. Another national news story that recently thematized it involved the portrayal of Jewish people in Mel Gibson’s film The Passion. Amy-Jill Levine, professor at Vanderbilt Divinity School and author of prize-winning studies on Christian origins and the Gospel of Matthew, has described, for example, the unbiblical scene where construction of the cross on which Jesus died occurs in the Jewish Temple.
This brings us back to today’s reading. There is arguably not a passage in Mark suggesting that Jewish people as a whole bear responsibility for Jesus’ death. However, the syntax of this line does not imply that Jesus will be crucified for sedition in imperial Rome, but in connection with his rejection by Jewish leaders. His rejection and death are juxtaposed consequently in this sentence: “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again” (31). Parishioners invested in promoting Jewish-Christian dialogue may likely wonder how this passage would sound to Jewish friends and colleagues.
In his book The Origins of Anti-Semitism, John Gager, Professor of Religion at Princeton University, describes a method of reading this passage not necessarily as a polemic against Jewish people, but as one scene among many in which all of Jesus’ contemporaries including his closest disciples fail to grasp his message. Describing the context of this passage, Gager writes how in Chapter 5, opposition to Jesus did not come from Jewish people but from an unclean demon; next Jesus grants the request of Jairus, “one of the rulers in the synagogue,” to heal his daughter (5:21-24, 35-43). Placing this passage in the context of Mark’s overall narrative structure, Gager writes,

. . . the theme of incomprehension is a leitmotif throughout Mark.
The most uncomprehending figures in the Gospel, and thus the
targets of Jesus’ most severe rebukes, are not outsiders at all but
rather the disciples themselves (Gager, 145).

8:33 supports this reading. In the kind of extreme rhetorical gesture we see Jesus often make in the Gospels, here Jesus is calling Peter, the eventual rock of the church, “Satan,” presumably when Peter does not accept that Jesus’ kingship is not of this world: “‘Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Those who know the final outcome from the beginning are Christian readers of Mark’s Gospel, not the disciples in the Gospel itself. However Gager also directly admits that there are passages in the Gospels that portray Judaism negatively and have historically been interpreted to justify discrimination or worse, like Matthew 27:25. He explores how Gospel writers were likely motivated to define the early Christian movement as connected to and yet different from the vibrant and attractive Jewish community, and how this might have been a motivation for anti-Judaism polemic in the Gospels.
For readers interested in this topic I strongly recommend Amy-Jill Levine’s book The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus. A proponent of what Krister Stendhal calls “Holy Envy,” or appreciation of the beliefs and practices of another, Levine calls for in-depth examination of Jesus’s cultural context on the part of ministers and church leaders: as a Jew, speaking to Jews. The following quote encapsulates Levine’s project:

By seeing Jesus as a Jew with regard to both belief and practice,
Christians can develop a deeper appreciation for the teachings of
the church. . . / . . Today Jesus’ words are too familiar, too domesticated,
too stripped of their initial edginess and urgency. Only when heard
through first-century Jewish ears can their original edginess and urgency
be recovered. Consequently, to understand the man from Nazareth,
it is necessary to understand Judaism. . . . if we get Judaism wrong,
we’ll wind up perpetuating anti-Jewish or anti-Semitic teachings,
and thus the mission of the church—to spread a gospel of love rather
than a gospel of hate—will be undermined. For Christians, this concern
for historical setting should have theological import as well. If one
takes the incarnation—that is, the claim that the “Word became flesh
and lived among us” (John 1:14)—seriously, then one should take
seriously the time when, place where, and people among whom
this event occurred (Levine, 6-7).

Levine goes on to describe Jewish life in Jesus’s historical setting, including the roles of women, perceptions of the messiah, and diversity of practices and beliefs, with particular focus on the narratives of the Good Samaritan and the Samaritan Woman.
In the book of Romans, the apostle Paul presents a complex and at times contradictory picture of Jewish-Christian relations. Yet Romans 3, the chapter before this week’s lectionary reading passage, contains a vision of God extending salvation to Jewish people and Gentiles both: “. . . He will justify the circumcised on the ground of faith and the uncircumcised through that same faith. Do we then overthrow the law by this faith? By no means! On the contrary, we uphold the law” (Romans 3:30-31.)

--Elizabeth Fels

(1) See http://jeffweintraub.blogspot.com/2003/07/gospel-according-to-mel-gibson-paula.html

Other works cited:
John G. Gager, The Origins of Anti-Semitism
Amy-Jill Levine, The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus
Bible quotes taken from The New Oxford Annotated Bible, third edition.

Mar.1: Divine Rescue

noreply@blogger.com (Massachusetts Bible Society Intern) — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 10:49:00 +0000

Psalm 25: 1-10
Genesis 9: 8-17
Mark 1: 9-15
1 Peter 3: 18-22

A vector running through the lectionary readings for the first week of Lent is the theme of divine rescue. In the acrostic Psalm 25, the writer reminds the Lord of the mercy shown to him in the past, appealing for forgiveness of sin and deliverance from enemies. Genesis 9:8-17 contains the first “covenant” described as such in the Hebrew Scriptures. It applies to all of humanity, the animal world, and the earth. Following the covenant concept, Mark 1:9-15 describes the genesis of the new covenant: Jesus is baptized, receives the Holy Spirit, and begins to proclaim the approach of the kingdom of God. Finally in 1 Peter 3:18-22, recounting Christ’s resurrection from death “in order to bring you to God,” the writer describes the possibility of salvation God extends: “And baptism, which this prefigured, now saves you—not as a removal of dirt from the body, but as an appeal to God for a good conscience”.
Psalm 25 is also one of nine acrostics in the Book of Psalms, a form of poetry that elsewhere in the Bible only seen in Lamentations. The first word begins with the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, the second line with the second letter, and so on through the end of the alphabet, although the sixth and nineteenth letters are missing. In The Book of Psalms: a Translation and Commentary, Robert Alter writes that this structure might have been used as a mnemonic device because of the text’s liturgical use. The Hebrew noun in the phrase “I lift my heart” is nefesh, “essential self” or “life breath.”
It can be inferred from verse 7 that the speaker has erred: “My youth’s offenses and my crimes recall not. In your steadfast love, recall me—You; for the sake of your goodness, O LORD.” Alter writes that the juxtaposition of the pronouns “me” (li) and “You” (‘atah) is unusual in Hebrew in the line “recall me—You”. After the imperative verb “recall,” the second-person “You” would not be necessary. While the word hata’im in line 8 can be translated “sinners” or “offenders,” Alter also notes that the etymology of the word suggest missing a target. Asking the Lord for forgiveness, the speaker also appeals specifically for wisdom: “Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths."
In this passage we thus see the speaker alternating requests for help with expressions of trust in God’s faithfulness. The speaker directly asks God to recall earlier love and mercy, appealing as if to a person who can be swayed by rhetoric. We see the word hesed, or “steadfast love,” which also figures prominently in the Book of Jonah characterizing divine love. At the conclusion of that book, Jonah addresses God (4:2), saying, “That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and rich in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing.” Hesed can also refer to the mutual loyalty of the partners in a marriage, as seen in the description of Hosea as husband and covenant partner. The appeal to hesed shows that the speaker views himself as having an ongoing relationship with God, a sense of continuity that dovetails with the lectionary’s next passage, Genesis 9: 8-17.
In order to understand the lectionary reading 8-17, it’s necessary to read it in the context of the whole chapter. 9:1-7 contains the basis for the Noachide laws in Judaism, considered binding upon Gentiles as well as Jews and referenced in Acts 15:20 and 21:25. The laws are given in response to the acts of violence preceding the flood: God stipulates that humans, bearing God’s image, may not be killed.
Genesis 9:8-17 thus contains the first covenant described in the Bible, preceding the Ten Commandments. After giving the Noachide laws, God in turn declares, “I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” As a sign of the covenant, God places a bow in the sky turned away from humanity: “When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth.” We also see the bow depicted as God’s weapon in Ps 7:12-13 and Hab 3:9-11. The anthropomorphic way that God is portrayed here is noteworthy.
A great information source for the concept of covenant (berît) in the Bible is The Old Testament: A Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures by Michael D. Coogan. Coogan compares structure of covenants in the Bible to that of political treaties in the ancient Near East. He writes that in this region and time period, Israelites were the only group known whose texts describe a relationship with a deity in terms of a treaty. Coogan uses two classifications for treaties: those between parties that are presumed equal, like Solomon and Hiram the king of Tyre, and “suzerainty treaties,” where one party is presumed to be superior to the other. A typical structure of the second kind of treaty includes identification of the suzerain or stronger party; history of the relationship, emphasizing the suzerain’s benevolence; stipulations, or obligations imposed on the weaker party, which might include prohibition of relationships with other powers, requirement to respond to a call of assistance from the suzerain, or payment of tribute; and blessings for observing the treaty. This basic structure characterizes the communication we see from God to Noah in Genesis 9. Other covenants central to the Bible include those between Abraham and God, between God and Israel (The Book of the Covenant containing the Ten Commandments in Exodus 20), and what Christian theology calls the New Covenant, or New Testament.
Mark 1:9-15 shares in common with the Hebrew Scripture lectionary readings a depiction of hope for a new beginning. In Psalm 25, the speaker appeals to God’s mercy and steadfast love for forgiveness of sin; Genesis 9 shows God committing to protect humanity in the form of a covenant; and Mark 1 portrays the beginning of Christ’s ministry. According to the New Oxford Annotated Bible, the Gospel of Mark has traditionally been attributed to John Mark of Acts 12:12 and 15:37, who is thought to have composed it in Rome summarizing Peter’s preaching (1 Pet 5:13.) The narrative associated with Christmas is absent; we first encounter Jesus, not in a manger, but with the other figures of the Trinity:

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased. (9-11).

Jesus goes through a trial in the wilderness, as did Elijah in 1 Kings 19, then begins to proclaim the Gospel. The NOAB annotation describes his mission: “At the right time, in fulfillment of long-standing yearnings and hopes, God is finally acting to reestablish his beneficent will for the people. (Repent means) return to God’s way, in response to the good news of God’s action.” 1 Peter 3:18-22 describes the culmination of those hopes in the form of the resurrection: “For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit . . .”
For parishioners who have not read the New Testament cover to cover, 1 Peter 3:19, “. . . also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison,” might come as a shock. I did not grow up in a tradition in which this passage made frequent appearances in sermons and Bible studies, unlike what one might call “Greatest Hits” like the Parable of the Sower. Typical questions one might ask include, “Which spirits? When did this happen? What happened to them as a result?” I found one of the more extensive glosses in Begegnung fürs Leben: Die Studienbibel für jeden Tag: Neues Testament, published by the Hänssler Verlag. The annotation lists several possible readings, including linking this passage to Matthew 27, when rocks burst, graves open, and the dead rise. When I asked Rev. William Rich at Trinity Church Boston for clarification, he explained that this passage holds great importance in the Eastern Orthodox tradition and was well-known during medieval times. It is the subject of many icons, including one with Christ standing over a grate of hell with a massive hook, pulling out souls. “Google ‘Harrows of Hell’ to the see icons,” he said.

--Elizabeth Fels

Sources:
Alter, Robert. The Book of Psalms.
Coogan, Michael: The Old Testament: A Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures.
Coogan, Michael, ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd ed).
Begegnung fürs Leben: Die Studienbibel für jeden Tag: Neues Testament, Hänssler Verlag.
(Adapted from Life Application Bible, by Tyndale House Publishers, 1988.)

February 22--Alone With Jesus

noreply@blogger.com (Gusti Linnea Newquist) — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 22:50:00 +0000

. . . Jesus took Peter, James, and John up on a high mountain by themselves. While they watched, Jesus’ appearance was changed. His clothes became shining white, whiter than any person could make them. Then Elijah and Moses appeared to them, talking with Jesus. . . .

. . . Peter did not know what to say, because he and the others were so frightened.

Then a cloud came and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!’

Suddenly Peter, James, and John looked around, but they saw only Jesus there alone with them . . . (Mark 9:2-4, 6-8).

It is Transfiguration Sunday, and we have been here before. Some version of this story from one of the synoptic gospels proclaimed every year on the Sunday before the church enters the season of Lent. We take it for granted.

The disciples do not.

What Peter and James and John see on this high mountain alone with Jesus frightens them to the core. The disciples are so frightened, in fact, that they actually follow Jesus’ instructions not to tell anyone what they have seen . . . a command they have no trouble breaking earlier—and later—in Mark’s gospel. Even Peter, who is normally eager to express his opinion or make a prediction about who Jesus is and what the Jesus movement should be doing “d[oes] not know what to say” in this moment of terror. He can only tell Jesus, “It is good that we are here,” and then mumble something incoherent about making tents for the three luminous figures who have just appeared in front of him.

To these three disciples—who think they know Jesus pretty well by now—the transfiguration of Jesus, in which he takes his place among the giver of the Law and the prototype of the Prophets, is a terrifying experience. They spend the rest of their lives trying to make sense of it, not even telling the story until after “the Son of Man had risen from the dead” (Mk. 9:10).

To many churchgoers today, this story is commonplace, another one of those “miracles” we either accept on faith or explain away as an interesting metaphor for our own “mountaintop experiences” of feel-good spirituality. But there are a few people among us who have experienced something dramatically similar to this moment of transfiguration—this moment of seeing the human face of the living God right in front of us and being told to listen!—in all its glory and all its terror.

A good friend of mine felt it in church last Sunday . . . and no, she was not delusional! She just knew she was experiencing something deeply profound, something that felt like the voice of God telling her to listen, something that felt like a “call” . . . but she had no idea what it meant. She was afraid, but she was calm in her fear. It was as if something was falling into place, something was being revealed that was deeper than anything she had ever known, something was being asked of her even though she could not articulate what it was.

And after talking with her, I realized that it may actually be more important to focus on the moment after the transfiguration, as powerful as the original event may have been for the disciples and for my friend. Because when it is all over, when the voice of clarity fades, when the shimmering robes evaporate, Peter and James and John look around and see only Jesus, there, alone with them.

They do not understand that Jesus will die and that they will abandon him. They do not understand that this time “alone” with Jesus is so very precious . . . that it will not last forever . . . that they will become even more frightened than they have been just now.

But they are alone with Jesus, for just this brief moment . . . and I like to imagine that they are at peace, even though they have not understood anything that has or will come to pass. They simply know it is a big deal, that God is with them, and that they will not ever be alone without Jesus.

They will not ever be alone “without Jesus.”

It is a terrifying thing to confront the power of God that transcends the ages, to follow Christ to his death, to hear the voice of God demanding that we listen without clear guidance about what is being said.

But I would suggest that the power of the transfiguration, as it leads us into Lent, as it leads us into crucifixion, as it leads us through the lonesome valley of death and darkness and despair is that we will never be alone without Jesus. We will never be alone without the physical presence of God in our midst. We will never be left without some reason to hope, without some reason to trust, without some reason to expect a future resurrection.

With this assurance of God's eternal presence, then, may we enter boldly into this season of Lent, this time of repentance, this time of transformation, this time of releasing what needs to die within us and among us in order to allow the spirit of God to rise again. We are not ever alone in our calling.

Not ever.

Not ever.

Not ever.

Amen.

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts for this week: 2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6)

Dear friends, it is with great joy and a twinge of sadness that I announce my departure from these pages. I will be leaving Boston at the end of the month in order to accept God’s call to serve as the next Co-Pastor of St. Mark’s Presbyterian Church in Tucson, Arizona (pending the election of the congregation, the approval of the presbytery, and my subsequent ordination). I have been grateful for this time to share my thoughts with you and even more grateful to those of you who have shared your comments with me.

My sister Harvard Divinity School alumna, Elizabeth Fels (MTS ’08) will pick up the blog beginning next week.

February 15--Running to Win

noreply@blogger.com (Gusti Linnea Newquist) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 11:04:00 +0000

"You know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize. So run to win! All those who compete in the games use self-control so they can win a crown. That crown is an earthly thing that lasts only a short time, but our crown will never be destroyed. So I do not run without a goal. I fight like a boxer who is hitting something--not just the air. I treat my body hard and make it my slave so that I myself will not be disqualified after I have preached to others" (1 Corinthians 9:24-27).

I just love it when Paul gets competitive.

It strikes a deep inner chord in me to know I am not the only follower of Christ who likes to win.

I know we Christians preach the need to curb our ambition, to love others beyond our own achievements, to want what is best for everybody, to put the needs of others before our own. I know the first shall be last and the last shall be first.

But there is just something deeply fundamental in me—perhaps cultivated from the earliest days of childhood—that wants to be the best! That strives to be the best. That feels a fleeting but still potent flash of pride in winning an earthly crown. In the words of Ricky Bobby from that great film sensation Talladega Nights, "If you're not first, you're worst!" And who wants to be worst?

Even Ricky Bobby, however, has a serious conversion experience once he realizes how much his competitive drive has been based on the fear and pain of a childhood lacking in paternal love . . . and how carelessly he has hurt his best friend in his pursuit of greatness. By the end of the movie, “racing to win” has become more about Ricky’s integrity than about his victory lap around the NASCAR track. In order to “win,” once Ricky has changed his mind and heart, he has to be willing to lose. And he has to be willing to love his neighbor as himself.

This, of course, is more along the lines of what Paul had in mind when he encouraged the first century Corinthians to “run to win.” It is a spiritual discipline he is talking about . . . of being willing to “lose” for the sake of our integrity . . . of risking failure in order to love those who desperately need our care . . . of resisting the temptation to let anything in our lives distract us from responding to the grace of God . . . of training our hearts and minds—and yes, even our bodies—to the lifelong work of living in the Spirit.

But it is a communal race! We cannot win it alone.

Paul did not have the same concept of team sports that we do, but he surely understood the church as the “Body of Christ.” And this communal body, I think he would claim, must run the race together, must win the race together, and must do this by undergoing rigorous conditioning, just as the individual bodies within it must set measureable goals toward achieving that crown which will never be destroyed.

It is a victory in this life when we in the church really do live out good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and liberty to the oppressed. And it is a victory in the life to come when we place every part of our lives into the hands of a loving and challenging God and allow these lives to be transformed.

So what does the “conditioning” for this race look like?

Some believers have taken Paul’s words about “treating the body hard” quite literally . . . adopting an ascetic life or even engaging in self-flagellation as a way of knowing the suffering of Christ.

Others of us lift up the inherent goodness of the body and its capacity to perform great feats—athletic or otherwise—when we invite God to cultivate and guide its energy as we would cultivate and guide a garden, as a trainer would cultivate and guide an athlete.

In either case, we know that God cares about our bodies and how we discipline them and how we use them to promote justice and peace . . . and we know that God cares about the hearts and minds and spirits that accompany our bodies . . . and we know that God is inviting every part of our being into a race we can only win if we let go the competitive desire for an earthly crown and be willing to “lose” for the love of the world.

So our invitation this week is to hear clearly the voice of the Holy Spirit training us and cheering us on, whether our next practice session is at the local soup kitchen, in our daily devotional life, or in advocating for peace in the halls of Congress.

May God grant us the victory, may we "run to win." Amen.

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts: 2 Kings 5:1-14; Psalm 30; Mark 1:40-45)

February 9--The Reason He Came

noreply@blogger.com (Gusti Linnea Newquist) — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 04:34:00 +0000

As soon as Jesus and his followers left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew. Simon's mother-in-law was sick in bed with a fever, and the people told Jesus about her. So Jesus went to her bed, took her hand, and helped her up. The fever left her, and she began serving them.

That evening, after the sun went down, the people brought to Jesus all who were sick and had demons in them. The whole town gathered at the door. Jesus healed many who had different kinds of sicknesses, and he forced many demons to leave people. But he would not allow the demons to speak, because they knew who he was.

Early the next morning, while it was still dark, Jesus woke and left the house. He went to a lonely place, where he prayed. Simon and his friends went to look for Jesus. When they found him, they said, 'Everyone is looking for you!'

Jesus answered, 'We should go to other towns around here so I can preach there too. That is the reason I came.' So he went everywhere in Galiless, preaching in the synagogues and forcing out demons. (Mark 1:29-39)

I am struck in reading this passage from Mark's gospel by the reason Jesus gives for his presence in Capernaum: to preach.

I should not necessarily be struck by this particular raison d'etre of Jesus. His preaching is, after all, well documented throughout the gospels, particularly in the long discourses of the Sermon on the Mount as described by Matthew and the Sermon on the Plain in Luke.

What strikes me about Mark's version, I think, is the simplicity of the message, at least in these early chapters: "The right time has come," Jesus says. "The kingdom of God is near. Change your hearts and lives and believe the Good News!" (Mk 1:15).

Surrounding this short three-sentence sermon (wish I could get away with THAT on any given Sunday!) are the stories of healing, the stories of casting out demons, the stories of people desperate for someone to give them real, tangible hope. The stories of forgiveness of sins.

This is what changes people's lives!

And so I find myself reflecting again, as someone called to preach, on what this actually means for those of us who now "preach Jesus" all these centuries later, who have the responsibility of connecting a contemporary community of faith with this first century preacher from Nazareth who healed and cast out demons and forgave sinners.

It should not come as a surprise to any of us who preach the gospel that the crowds gathered around Jesus seem far more drawn to his pastoral care than they are to his words from the pulpit. At least that is the case in this particular passage at this particular stage of Jesus' ministry in this particular gospel.

It is, in fact, his manner of forcing out demons, of healing the sick, of forgiving sins that draws people in to his verbal message. And they really do change their hearts and minds.

Preaching is such a humbling calling for those of us in this business, whether we are speaking the words from the pulpit or whether we are living the words in all the other aspects of our ministry. I have described it as the ultimate act of submission, begging God for a word.

But it is so much more than that, isn't it? It's about all the other things we do beyond the pulpit: the teaching, the pastoral care, the gathering of community around bread and wine. It's about seeing the kingdom of God right in front of us and helping to make it a reality.

So my prayer for all of us who preach this week is that our preaching of the good news will come from our living of the good news . . . and that God will grant us the grace to know what that means.

Amen.

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts: Isaiah 40:21-31; Psalm 147:1-11, 20; 1 Corinthians 9:16-23)

February 1--The Problem of Evil

noreply@blogger.com (Gusti Linnea Newquist) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 05:53:00 +0000

Jesus and his followers went to Capernaum. On the Sabbath day he went to the synagogue and began to teach. The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught like a person who had authority, not like their teachers of the law. Just then, a man was there in the synagogue who had an evil spirit in him. He shouted, "Jesus of Nazareth! What do you want with us? Did you come to destroy us? I know who you are—God’s Holy One!"

Jesus commanded the evil spirit, “Be quiet! Come out of the man!” The evil spirit shook the man violently, gave a loud cry, and then came out of him.

The people were so amazed they asked each other, “What is happening here? This man is teaching something new, and with authority. He even gives commands to evil spirits, and they obey him.” And the news about Jesus spread quickly everywhere in the area of Galilee (Mark 1: 21-28).

When I was talking with a pastor friend of mine last week about the process of spiritual formation and discernment the topic abruptly turned to the problem of evil. “The closer we draw to God,” I told him, “the closer the devil draws to us.”

I was quoting from a conversation with my spiritual director about my call to ministry, and this comment had lingered on my heart for several days. But as soon as I said it out loud to another person—another pastor—I knew I was in for a long discussion. It is not the kind of phrase that would normally come out of our liberal, intellectual, overly-rational theologically educated mouths. We gave up a long time ago on the “blame Satan” ideology with a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other tempting us toward a good or evil impulse.

Or did we?

The problem is that evil really is all around us—not just confined to one shoulder—and we do well to acknowledge this problem with heavy hearts. Whether we mean evil to be a catch-all phrase for poverty and racism and systematic torture or whether we imagine something closer to spiritual warfare and a demonic entity, we cannot deny that evil is all around us, that evil is crushing us, that evil is us. The story of the fallen angel Lucifer may or may not be the most accurate representation of this thing we call evil, but at least it helps us think about the fact that it exists, that God allows it, that God sometimes—too many times, in my estimation—seems overpowered by it. And we do, too.

So imagine what it must have been for an evil spirit possessing this first-century man of Capernaum who comes to the synagogue when Jesus is teaching. This thing we call evil—whatever it was—overwhelming this man, acting with impunity, accustomed to winning, accustomed to delighting in destruction. And here comes Jesus, drawing closer to God, drawing others closer to God, and thereby drawing evil to himself from the very beginning of his ministry. Throughout his entire ministry. At the painful, crucifying end of his ministry.

“What do you want with us?” the evil spirit says. “Have you come to destroy us?”

And of course we want the answer to be yes. We want evil to be destroyed once and for all and for justice and peace to reign forevermore.

But Jesus has not (yet!) destroyed the evil spirit, at least in the lectionary text for this week. It has not gone away forever. He has only cast it out. But it has come out!

And I imagine that the same is true for us—I know the same is true for us—when the evil and the pain and the abuse that still dwells within us and among us is confronted by the living Christ in our midst, teaching and preaching the good news of grace and liberation and healing. The bitterness, the anger, the trauma, the greed, the pride, the persecution, the death, the destruction . . . it is not (yet!) destroyed forever, but it can be released when we see the face of God in front of us, who has promised to be with us through it all, when God sees the pain and bitterness and warfare and greed within us and commands it to come out of us. And it does.

It is not always a quick process, this casting out of the evil that grips us, and it is not always painless. The scars, the anger, the pride, the greed will cry out along the way, even when we invite God to cast it out. But God is casting it out!

And so we draw closer to God, even when we fear evil, even when we fear being cured of evil. Because we also know the end of the story. Evil really has been overcome, once and for all. Easter is a taste of the final reality. Whatever crucifixion we suffer, whatever crucifixion we cause is not the final answer. Resurrection is!

And we can be part of it in this life and the next. Amen.

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(additional lectionary texts: Deuteronomy 18:15-20; Psalm 111; 1 Corinthians 8:1-13)

January 25--From Repentance to Hope

noreply@blogger.com (Gusti Linnea Newquist) — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 23:30:00 +0000

"The Lord spoke his word to Jonah again and said, 'Get up, go to the great city Nineveh, and preach to it what I tell you to say.' So Jonah obeyed the Lord and got up and went to Nineveh. It was a very large city; just to walk across it took a person three days. After Jonah had entered the city and walked for one day, he preached to the people, saying, 'After forty days, Nineveh will be destroyed!' The people of Nineveh believed God. They announced that they would fast for a while, and they put on rough cloth to show their sadness. All the people in the city did this, from the most important to the least important. . . . When God saw what the people did, that they stopped doing evil, he changed his mind and did not do what he had warned. He did not punish them" (Jonah 3:1-5, 10).

Jonah was not the first Hebrew prophet to speak God’s justice to Nineveh. The prophet Nahum also addressed this city of bloodshed, this city of violence, this city of imperial expansion that had led the Assyrian destruction of the northern kingdom of Israel 700 years before the birth of Christ.

"How terrible it will be for the city that has killed so many," Nahum proclaims in righteous anger. "It is full of lies and goods stolen from other countries. It is always killing somebody. . . . Many are dead; their bodies are piled up—too many to count. People stumble over the dead bodies" (Nahum 3:1, 3b-c).

If Nahum is like any one of us who has been deeply wounded to the core of his being by a violent oppressor, he wants God to punish his mortal enemy without mercy. If Nahum is anything like me, he expects justice to look something like vengeance, he wants his oppressor to hurt as deeply as he and his people have been hurt, he feels his justified outrage turn into simmering anger, he puts that anger into the mouth of God.

"'I will pull your dress up over your face,'" Nahum says to Nineveh, supposedly on God’s behalf, "'and show the nations your nakedness and the kingdoms your shame. I will throw filthy garbage on you and make a fool of you. I will make people stare at you'" (Nahum 3:5b-6).

Nahum’s language is as bad as it sounds: murder and rape and shame employed as tools of divine justice.

Is this what God tells Jonah to say? Is this the call to repentance that leads all of Nineveh to comply? Is this the kind of punishment God decides to withhold?

It is a shocking message, indeed, for we who claim to worship a God of peace.

But those of us who have suffered extreme violence at the hand of another—whether it be rape or bombing or the insidious damage of mental or spiritual abuse—those of us who have been violated to the very core of our being know that it is just plain honest in the midst of our agony to admit we do pray for this kind of justice to roll down like waters. To admit we do want this kind of righteousness to flow like a mighty stream.

“It is not right what they have done to us!” Nahum reassures a broken people. It is not right what they have done to us, the preacher declares to a broken world.

Nahum did not expect Nineveh to repent upon hearing the news of God’s anger. But Jonah did.

“’This is why I ran away to Tarshish,’” Jonah complains to God when Nineveh repents. “’I knew that you are a God who is kind and shows mercy. You don’t become angry quickly, and you have great love. I knew you would choose not to cause harm!’” (Jonah 4:2b). How could you let my enemy off so easily!

It can be easy to blame Jonah for running from God’s call. It can be hard to understand his frustration with God’s mercy. Unless we understand the modern-day parallels.

Jonah speaking repentance—and mercy—to his mortal enemy Nineveh is perhaps something like Ghandi speaking repentance—and mercy—to the British colonialists. Jonah speaking repentance—and mercy—to his mortal enemy Nineveh is perhaps something like Martin Luther King speaking repentance—and mercy—to racist White America. Jonah speaking repentance—and mercy—to his mortal enemy Nineveh is perhaps something like Sister Helen Prejean speaking repentance—and mercy—to death row inmates awaiting execution. It is really, really hard.

For some of us reading Jonah this week, God may be challenging us to take the hard step of speaking the truth in love to those who have hurt us, asking them to change their hearts and minds, trusting God’s merciful love to restore us all to new life.

For others of us reading Nineveh this week, we hear God’s call to repentance, to acknowledging that others have good reason to hate us, to changing our hearts and minds, to committing to a new way of life.

And for me reading Jonah on this particular day, in this particular week, I cannot help but hear God’s merciful and joyous celebration over the people of the United States, who continue to repent of our racist heritage, who continue to say we don’t want to live that way anymore, and who ask God to continue walking with us to the end.

Surely God’s concern for Jonah, God’s concern for Nineveh, God’s concern for every one of us will correct us when we fail, will applaud us when we succeed, and will sustain us every day of our lives yet to come.

May it be so now and forever. Amen.

Gusti Linnea Newquist

(Additional lectionary texts: Psalm 62:5-12; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31; Mark 1:14-20)