Sunday, June 23, 2013

[book review] A Story of God and All of Us: A Novel Based on the Epic TV Miniseries "The Bible"

I didn't have any interest in watching this miniseries, but when I learned there was a NOVELIZATION of it, I was morbidly curious and ILLed it.

Contrary to my ~expectation, it's not actually ridiculous over-the-top bad. There's not a lot that I'm really adamantly opposed to, though there are various things that make me uncomfortable, as well as various narrative changes that make me go, "But that's not how the story goes!"

There's a lot of telling rather than showing -- which given that this is a novelization of film is kind of ironic ... were there a lot of explainy voiceovers?

-- and then I learned that GoodReads has a character limit for reviews. Hence, blogpost.

Long writeup: [I quote/cite/link a LOT.]

The introductory "Authors' Note" talks about their choice to "choose fewer characters and stories but make a much deeper emotional commitment" (rather than trying to tell many many brief stories -- it doesn't explain whey they chose a ten-hour mini-series format to begin with). They say, "we began the TV scripts, written by a team of writers under the guidance of many theologians, advisors, and Biblical experts. Their combined expertise brought forth vivid spiritual and historical images. To our great joy, when we showed the scripts to others for technical and creative feedback, the resounding messages we heard over and over were 'I've never been able to imagine these Bible stories so clearly in my mind,' 'I'm going to reread the Bible,' and 'You really should publish these scripts.' [...] We feel very inadequate to teach the Bible, and we are certainly not theologians. We are television storytellers. It will be easy for people to focus on how we have 'compressed stories' or find 'theological inaccuracies.' But on this point, we must be clear: we are not retelling the story of the Bible; it has already been told in the richest, fullest possible way, from the mouth of God and through His chosen prophets, students, and apostles. Instead, we are dramatizing some of these beautiful stories from our scripts."

1) Do we have stats on how much people's response to adaptations is to go read the original? Even when people know it's an adaptation and that there's so much ~more~ in the original, I feel like it's a minority of viewers who actually follow through on reading the original.
*I* wanted to go back and re/read the Bible thanks to various parts of this, but that was mostly born out of a desire to fact-check them/to see how the "real" story went.
2) I understand, theologically, why people think the Bible is God's best attempt at telling the Story, but seriously, I must be reading a different Bible than those people who say just open the Bible and read it and you'll get converted. It's not all narrative, and some of what is narrative is confusing, repetitive, contradictory, etc.

The opening chapter harmonizes the Creation stories and then spends most of its time on the Noah/Flood story, closing with:

      But God will act once again to save the world. For all time. But next time He will not need a Noah.
      Next time He will send His only son.
      This is a story of God and all of us.
-p.6
I don't love the "everything is leading up to/foreshadowing Christ," but it is understandable. It actually wasn't as bad as I was expecting.

God literally "destroying mankind in order to save it" (p. 2, literal quote) is kinda creepy, though it's not necessarily in violation of a "plain reading" of the text.

There's a nod to realism in the description of the experience of living on the ark, though the reminder that many of the animals onboard are not equipped for seafaring was I think unintentionally uncomfortable.

Noah telling the Creation story to keep people's minds off their distress is perhaps a heavy-handed "The Bible is the Greatest Story Ever Told," but I did actually appreciate the nod to the fact that the story/s we Christians see as old old stories (and thus, a bit far-away and musty) are the stories that are the lifeblood of the Jewish people -- the power of story, it is one of my themes.

Noah's wife and his son's wives don't get names, which I initially thought was one of the ways in which the authors were choosing to not embellish the Biblical story ("asks the wife of Noah's son Shem" -- from the Prologue -- is not a non-awkward phrase, so it had to be on purpose, right?), as females not named in the Biblical canon (e.g., Lot's wife) continued to remain unnamed. but then Pharoah's daughter who adopts Moses is named Batya -- but Wikipedia suggests that this name does stem from an extra-canonical tradition [note: Moses' birth mother does NOT get a name]. Given some of the other ~significant changes they make (see below), I'm not sure why giving names to the nameless is so verboten. (Later, in the Samson story, Samson's first, Philistine, wife gets named Habor [p. 101]. Maybe there's a minimum of screentime that gets a woman a name? I don't know how the on-screen mini-series dealt with identifying the people in Noah's ark... In one of the bonus additional fight scenes, we get one of Lot's shepherds named Lemuel and one of Abram's named Amasa -- both of which are Biblical names but of decidedly different people. We also get Ira, a spokesman for the Israelites who oppose Moses -- another Biblical character who doesn't exist in the canonical text.)

I disliked how so much negativity gets attributed to the women -- misogyny, much?

Given the canonical story of Lot's wife being punished for looking back at the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, it's hard for me to quibble with her characterization as consistently suspicious of Abram's One God, but "seeds of dissension are sown by Lot's wife, a jealous and small-hearted woman who chafes at Abram's authority for forcing her to relocate" (p. 12) seems excessive.

The story of Abra[ha]m opens with telling us that Abram "is a direct descendant of Noah, eight generations on, through the lineage of Shem" (p.9) but it doesn't say anything about where all this paganism (which Abram is immersed in) comes from. God's call to Abram is unmistakable, and there's a nod to the fact that we're inventing monotheism ("Sarai, we are blessed. Today, God has spoken to me." / "Which God?" / "The God." / Sarai pulls back, confused. Theirs is a world of many different gods and idols, each designed to fulfill a specific need. Placing faith in just one god is a tremendously risky act. -p.11), but 8 generations seems a short time to have lost all memory of the God of Noah's ark, even with the Prologue's statement that, "mankind is fickle, and destined to make the same mistakes once again, turning their backs on God and His all-encompassing love." Though, I've been reminded recently about how recently slavery was legal in the USA, so maybe a few generations isn't all that long to forget things after all.

The Christianity Today article I read a few weeks prior noted that the mini-series adds in violence (as if the Bible is lacking), and I was reminded of this when reading the Abram/Lot story.

I don't oppose fleshing out a potential ideological (and, ultimately, theological -- when there isn't enough grassland for your herd, do you trust that God will provide because God has told you to stay there, or do you head for somewhere you know has more grassland?) disagreement that leads to Abram and Lot parting ways, but do we really need Lot and his followers to get attacked by bandits (off-screen) and then rescued by Abram (on-screen) on their way to Sodom and Gomorrah? [edit: This seems to be riffing off an actual incident in the Bible.] Does Lot's insistence on continuing on even after the attack really add anything to the story? Why couldn't they have just parted ways and the next scene be Lot in Sodom?

I had skimmed a devotional companion [via online preview, which I can no longer find, hence no direct quotations] before reading the book, and I was really pleased by the way it dealt with Sodom and Gomorrah -- Abram bargains with God, and the devotional explicitly supports that and even suggests that maybe Abram should have kept bargaining. It doesn't say anything about "the sin of Sodom," which I was braced for.

The novelization is less explicit in its endorsement of Abram's bargaining, and I am (mostly for other reasons) less of a fan.

      On it goes, Abraham bargaining for the people of Sodom while the Lord gently concedes, until Abraham reduces the number of ten righteous people. The Lord leaves. Abraham stands alone on the road, despairing for Sodom and his nephew. Because he knows, just as God knows, that his bold haggling with God is for naught. For there are not ten righteous people in all of Sodom.
      In fact, there is just one.
      Of course, God knows that. He has only bargained with Abraham as a testimony to their covenant. Abraham's fears about seeing Sodom destroyed showed the depth of his compassion, and God is honoring that. Now it is up to that one righteous man to save himself and his family.
-27
The text uses sexual sin as the primary symptom of Sodom's turned-away-from-God-ness, but that focus doesn't bother me a huge amount -- I think because the way the description arcs, I feel like the theme is that everyone in the city is using everyone else, including at very base physical levels.
The city is infamous for its vice and depravity, a place of idolatry that has not only turned its back on God but celebrates that fact. [...] Lot fears for his daughters, terrified that they will grow up to become as lascivious and faithless as the women of Sodom. It breaks his heart to imagine his gorgeous young girls living a life defined by lust instead of love, of fear instead of faith. [....] He can hear the moans of men and women having sex in the dark, dingy alleys. Were he to turn around right now, he would be able to see a barely dressed young couple groping one another, nearly nude prostitutes pushing their wares, a band of drummers entertaining a group of drunks, and a feral dog tied to a post--snarling loudly at all who walk past, and more than eager to bite into human flesh. (28)
I like that Lot is sitting by the city gates, gazing out into the desert -- liminal space, ftw!

We remove the "Lot offering his virgin daughters to the Sodomites" plotline, which I can't really fault them for, except that it seems so disingenuous to remove such a HUGE stumbling block of a story.

The pillar of salt that Lot's wife turns into gets blown to dust as Lot watches (I guess she was ahead of him? or looking back at your wife is okay so long as you don't look back at the city?), which irritated me because although non-canonical, there is a tradition that that pillar of salt still stands.

Hagar is with Abram and Sarai from their initial departure, conveniently eliding not just Abram's "she's not my wife, she's my sister" trick(s) but also eliding the fact that she's given to them along with so much other property (though she is explicitly identified as Egyptian).

God tells Abraham to listen to Sarah. The inheritance will go to Isaac. That is God's decision. It means that there is no more place for Hagar and Ishmael in his camp, but God reassures Abraham that they will be taken care of, and that the children of Ishmael will also become a great nation. (35)
I don't love God endorsing Sarah here.
This is being done at her insistence, and she knows full well that her demands might lead to the deaths of Hagar and Ishmael. She knows she created this problem in the first place by insisting that Abraham sleep with Hagar. So this is her solution. She is surprised to find that she does not take delight in forcing Hagar and Ishmael out. Sarah knows it needs to be done. This may be a cruel act, but she is not a cruel woman. For if this is not done, grave trouble could arise when Abraham's two boys grow to be men. (35-36)
Don't hate the player, hate the game?
The two of them will wander out into the desert alone, yet she [Hagar] trusts God to protect them. Hagar prays to God for help, and God provides it. Less than a week into their journey, they will run out water, and Hagar will fear for their lives. An angel of the Lord will appear to them at that time, promising that Ishmael will one day become the leader of a great nation. When the angel departs, a well filled with water will suddenly appear to Hagar and Ishmael, saving their lives. (36)
In writing this up, I realized that we got pages and pages of description of a MADE-UP story involving Lot and Abram, whereas this true story (a story shared by all three Abrahamic faiths) is all tell, no show. Also, didn't Hagar leave once before? (Hi, my research for preaching on the story of Hagar and Ishmael is showing...) Yes, I know we cut/condense lots of stories for time here.

We include the aqedah. I was actually a little bummed by Sarah running up the mountaintop to save her son, because I love the midrash from the lacuna that we never again see or hear from her -- the possibility that her pre-emptive grief kills her, the possibility that she stops speaking to Abraham (though this text doesn't preclude that latter possibility).

I'm irritated that the blame is placed on Jacob for favoring Joseph -- though, okay, at 17 years old, we can cut Joseph some slack for being a bit of a snot -- but we don't actually get any of him lording over his siblings; it's not a story of being humbled and then redeemed but rather a story of a good person to whom bad stuff happens, who ultimately prospers (because of God's favor) and gives back the same grace ("He shows his brothers the same love and mercy God has always shown him, particularly when times were so hard that hope barely flickered in his soul" [45] -- do we get to see those hard times in the film? because we don't get much in the novelization beyond the line "he becomes gaunt and filthy from months in the squalid and barbaric conditions" [42] re: his life in prison -- which line is immediately followed by, "Yet Joseph is an optimistic and a warmhearted man, even in the toughest of times").

More interesting, arguably, is that we skip the entire Jacob+Esau story -- INCLUDING Jacob wrestling with the "angel" :/ (I have gotten kind of attached to the idea of this story since my mom saying to me back in February of 2009: "I love that you struggle with Christianity fiercely and faithfully and I trust the Angel will not let you go without a blessing.")

I was bummed to lose out on "Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph" (Exodus 1:8). Instead we get:

For while they now live in luxury, this is not the land that God promised Abraham.
      Even worse, over the generations that follow, the drought that Joseph predicted means that thousands upon thousands are forced to leave. The people of Israel willfully travel to Egypt in source [sic] of food, then adopt this terrible new lifestyle just to stay alive. They build the great palaces and monuments of Egypt, working all day under the blazing desert sun, They are slaves of a great Pharaoh.
-47
I think "a man who will have the most extraordinary relationship of all with God" (47) is overstating it a bit, but I can let it go (since Moses is such a huge major figure).

The idea that Rameses and Moses had been rivals growing up in the palace is a neat addition. We get NOTHING about Moses' speech impediment/general feeling of unworthiness; Aaron is just kind of a sidekick (yes, it's explicit that Aaron and Miriam are his blood siblings, so we're not surprised that Aaron goes with Moses, but we lose a lot of depth).

I do kind of love that Moses gets "black kohl eyeliner" (53) -- to protect his eyes, obvi.

We blow through the plagues quickly -- which I don't actually have a problem with. Pharaoh says No after each plague (except, of course, the last) instead of canonically agreeing to let the people go and then retracting.

I appreciate that we do get an acknowledgement of the tragedy of the drowning of all the Egyptians, though it could have been better -- "A moment of sad realization passes, as the Hebrews realize that so many men are now dying. But this is followed immediately by the natural joyfulness of freedom, and the end of slavery for the Hebrews" (82).

We get a brief account of the giving of the Ten Commandments on Sinai, and a note that Moses doesn't get to enter the Promised Land, but not only do we get no explanation for why Moses doesn't get to enter the Promised Land, we totally ignore the fact that no one else from Egypt gets to enter the Promised Land, either -- no whiny wanderers, no golden calf.

I actually balked at the statement that Joshua leads the Hebrews into the Promised Land, so much have I internalized the idea that no one born in Egypt gets to enter the Promised Land (and Joshua got a lot of screentime as an adult in Egypt), but I Googled and apparently Joshua+Caleb got to enter the Promised Land.

I don't have particular thoughts on the Jericho/Rahab story. Yay for a story involving a woman positively. I'm not clear what the big deal is about Rahab, as the winning blow is the walls falling down, but that's a fault of the original story...

While I think it's an accurate precis of the original text, I still don't love the "God punishes the Israelites like a parent disciplines a child."

      But when Joshua dies, that faith seems to die with him. Generations of Israelites forget their covenant with the Lord, turning to other gods to meet their needs--gods of rain and fertility, gods of the previous inhabitants of the Promised Land, who they wrongly believe will bless their new way of life.
      God is grieved by this betrayal. He reminds the Israelites of the covenant with Abraham, and that the Promised Land is a gift that must be cherished. God uses hard, powerful armies to attack the Israelites, like a father disciplines his son.
      The cycle will be repeated for hundreds of years: Israel breaks their covenant; God sends foreign armies to subdue and subjugate them; they learn the lesson and cry out for help; God then raises a deliverer or "judge" to save them; and, once again, the land enjoys peace, until a future generation again forgets God.
      Of all the foreign enemies that subdued the rebellious Israelites to this point in history, none was more powerful than the Philistines. They soon conquer the Israelites and claim much of the Promised Land for themselves, yet God has not deserted his chosen people. He longs to renew His covenant with the Israelites and return to them the Promised Land.
      Once again, God chooses a most unlikely individual to carry out this plan--an eight-year-old boy named Samson, who has the strength of a lion.
-99-100
Someone with super-strength is not an "unlikely" savior, and Samson is much older than eight when he saves the day. ("The boy is soon born and given the name Samson, By the age of eight, he knows the story of the angel by heart. His mother believes that he is destined to free the Israelites from the Philistines. Ten years pass. [101]")

Samson's enough of a jerk that I probably wouldn't have included his story in an evangelization tool (to my surprise, they do the full version of the story -- and as I approvingly noted above, they give his first wife a name). They take out the flaming foxes, which is a bit of a bummer; and they also kill off his first wife (rather than just marrying her off to the best man), which seems a bit excessive. The addition of his mother convincing him to turn himself in is a narrative choice I don't have particular thoughts about -- I'm not sure if it's meant to emphasize how malleable Samson is to the will of women or something. The decision to take out Delilah's repeated betrayals of Samson make Samson look like less of an idiot, though it seems like a cheat to me.

We get the story of the Israelites asking for a king (p. 121).

The Samuel/Saul/David story feels fairly standard (I totally channel Kings). I was bummed that we don't get to *see* the anointing of David. They leave in the 100 foreskins story which, um, is a choice you can make. We don't get Jonathan protecting David, though I've heard they have a 'shippy vibe onscreen (even the bible ships it).

We extrapolate a whole story from, "Whoever wishes to strike down the Jebusites, let him get up the water shaft to attack the lame and the blind, those whom David hates [or, those who hate David]" (2 Samuel 5:8). [Wikipedia tells me, "According to the version of the story in the masoretic text, David managed to conquer the city by a surprise attack, led by Joab, through the water supply tunnels (Jerusalem has no natural water supply except for the Gihon spring)."]

David first lusts after Bathsheba BEFORE the famous "he saw her bathing on the roof...". Otherwise, the story stays fairly accurate -- and I appreciate that it's clear that David is sinning and Bathsheba is resistant (and did nothing to encourage the king's inappropriate attentions other than existing). We do get Nathan's indicting parable :)

After the death of Bathsheba's firstborn, we elide most of the rest of the story of that family. We're told in a sort of summary transition that they will have another son, Solomon, who "gains a reputation as the wisest man in the world. [...] But, like David, Solomon finds it impossible to follow God's laws. He is a man easily corrupted by his privilege and passions. After he dies, power continues to corrupt Israel's kings." (160)

Then we get:

      A new prophet named Daniel will speak in images telling of a dream in which God promised to once again save the Israelites by sending them a new king. "There before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He was given authority, glory, and sovereign power. All peoples, nations, and men of every language worshipped him." Daniel is dazzled as he speaks, overcome with the majesty and wonder of the dream that God revealed to him. But he does not know when he will come. Nor does Daniel know that this king will be directly from David, nor that his name will be Jesus.
(160-161)
I thought we would jump to the NT here, but actually we get Jeremiah.

Nebuchadnezzar's siege of Jerusalem (e.g., "The only question remaining now is the degree of suffering the king Nebuchadnezzar will inflict upon Jerusalem, and who among the Israelites will find a way to escape it." p. 173-4) reminded me of the story of slaughtering all the Amalekites -- which I think is a discomfort the authors didn't intend, since I don't think they want us to be critical of God's sanctioned genocide(s).

"The king of Babylon has been two long years in the battle waiting for Jerusalem to fall, and the simple act of leveling Jerusalem and burning the entire city to the ground has whetted his appetite for more." (178) So the conquest of the Near East ("every tribe and nation from the River Tigris to the River Nile, from the sands of the great Arabian Desert" to the great mountains that mark the gateway to what will one day become known as Europe") by the Babylonian Empire is the fault of the disobedient Jews? I don't think this is the authors' intent, but it makes me really uncomfortable.

The narrative takes up the "Fourteen generations of Israelites pass from Abraham to his descendant David, Another fourteen generations from David to the great deportation to Babylon. There will be fourteen more generations until the birth of Jesus" (176) and we get a longer version of the story of Daniel than the flash-forward allusion we got earlier.

I'm a little surprised that they left in the bit about "and God wants you to be subservient to the Persian king," though I suppose it's not all that problematic for the authors' theological worldview.

"They don't fear the new king--they welcome him. To them, he is a liberator. Daniel has studied the new king, and knows that the people in every territory that the Persian conquers have been left free to live and worship in their own traditions. Daniel smiles and says, 'He will set us exiles free.' " (184-5)

I knew that the story of Daniel in the lion's den as being that Daniel prayed to his God despite the ruler's decree. I'd forgotten that the ruler gets coerced (tricked, really, a la the story of Esther) into that decree.

In the original text, it's because Daniel has gained so much favor under the Persian ruler (who is named -- Darius -- in the original, but interestingly remains unnamed here) that the king is going to appoint him over the whole kingdom, whereas here we've already built up a narrative of the chief priests displeased that Daniel is favored under Nebuchadnezzar and thus they cut in front of Daniel to make accusations to the new ruler about Daniel before he can speak for himself. It's a nicer narrative flow this way, though I feel discomfort with the framing of the chief priests vs. Daniel (and, by extension, his God). It also lets the filmmakers add in "Daniel and his God are haunting the Persian king's dreams" (191) and a dramatic run through the palace (despite the fact that he's yelling, "Your God is real, your God will save you!"), rather than Darius fasting and unable to sleep because he has condemned Daniel to death and at dawn hurrying (wow, I am suddenly having flashes of "Early in the morning, on the first day of the week..." the Easter story) and calling out, "O Daniel, servant of the living God, has your God whom you faithfully serve been able to deliver you from the lions?" (Daniel 6:20).

At the close of this chapter, we get Daniel's vision of the Son of Man again, and this time the next chapter does bring us "[f]ive hundred years" (p. 197) ahead to the time of Jesus. In keeping with contemporary Christian culture, it's not until page 216 that we get the story of John the Baptist -- when we get to Jesus' baptism.

We open with a summary of Jewish history in the interim and the people's Messianic hope -- which begins with this devout couple in love. (In keeping with Matthew's genealogy -- from which we already got the 14 generations thing -- "Joseph is a direct descendant of King David" [197].).

The announcements to Mary and Joseph are fairly standard. On their way to the Bethlehem for the census, the ("[n]ow happily married" [201]) couple see the star ("Its brightness is a lamp unto their feet, and a light unto their path" [201] -- I see what you did there [Psalm 119:105, though really I just sing Amy Grant's "Thy Word" ... and now I'm thinking about the story of Jesus as the star]), which strikes me as a touch odd.

Babylonian Balthazar and two "Nubian potentates" (also called "Magi" in this text) also notice this star.

The captain of the guard comes to drag the elderly priest away. But the old man will not be silence, and even as he is pulled from the temple library, soon to meet his fate, he keeps reciting prophecy. -206-207
I'm reminded of slacktivist [e.g., this post] talking about contemporary apologetic evangelism -- the idea that you can (should) just tell people things and they will be converted by the power of the Truth (I joke that's how the Athanasian Creed works, but...)

I'm not sure why we make Herod ill. It's not like he surprisingly drops dead shortly after the escape to Egypt or anything. He's also explicitly *fat* and ill, which I think is supposed to be interpreted as symptomatic (his excess having corrupted both his body as his soul and his kingdom) -- which suspicion is supported by a later text: "Herod has lived a life of debauchery, and it catches up to him" (212).

As expected, everyone shows up at the manger together, including children -- "A young shepherd--the same boy who gave Joseph a bundle of kindling just hours earlier--now steps forward to offer something far more precious: a lamb." (208) I see what you did thar, authors. And oh, next sentence: "Joseph is thankful, but the truth is that he doesn't fully appreciate the gift." (208)

The star has led many to this site. The same angelic intervention [ed. what? this is the text's first mention of angels] that brought Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem has also spread the news to those who need to hear it most: local. shepherds, neighbors, and ordinary people. These are the ones whom Jesus has come to save, and for them to be standing in this small barn on this cold night in a moment unlike any other in time. They are witnessing the dawning of a new era--the fulfillment of the new covenant between God and humanity. (208)
Balthazar and the Nubians arrive later that same night.

We hear about the ~anarchy that ensues after Herod's death, and about the Romans quelling the disturbances. We are told that "The penalty for political dissent is crucifixion" (212) which I really appreciated, since so often in evangelical circles, Jesus' death is de-politicized.

Jesus' family returns to Nazareth and then at age 12 his parents take him to Jerusalem for the first time, for Passover, and we get the familiar story of Jesus in the Temple -- with bonus dove guiding Mary to him (heavy-handed foreshadowing, much?). "Nearly twenty years" later we finally meet John the Baptist. I do appreciate that we retain the familiar John the Baptist stories that precede Jesus' baptism, though I don't love the contemporary evangelical way we talk about baptism.

The Messiah is here. Now. His head and body are submerged in a baptism that he does not require, for Jesus has no sin. But the ritual sends the symbolic message that a time of renewal for all mankind has begun. (219)
The blogger who wrote the Christianity Today piece interestingly notes:
For a mini-series about the Bible that makes a point of showing how conscious its characters could be of the scriptures and traditions that already existed in their day, it is striking — if not puzzling — that the scene of Jesus’ temptation in the desert downplays any reference to the scriptures.

The gospels make a point of showing how Jesus refused each of Satan’s temptations by quoting scripture, and when I was growing up, this story was always held up as an example of how we needed to know our Bibles. But in this episode, Jesus seems to appeal to nothing more than his own impulses.

He does quote the verse about man not living on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God — but he never says “It is written.” He never makes it clear that he is quoting the words of God himself even as he speaks.

After the three temptations in the desert, Jesus immediately goes to synagogue and reads from Isaiah.

      "Mary's fears are well founded. For she knows, just as Jesus knows, that they live in a world where making waves and challenging the status quo is met with unrelenting violence." (222)

This is the part where it started feeling overmuch to me -- because I know the context of the authors, and I worry about a USian Christian persecution complex.

This is immediately followed by the arrest of John the Baptist.

I had recently read Mark in its entirety ("chronological" NT read-through) and was struck by how it feels like it's quickly moving from story to story.
Maybe the gospels read more compellingly onscreen, but reading this book, it felt even more disjointed and less compelling than the actual gospels do.

Jeremy commented about the salesperson feel, somewhere I can't find, but the Christianity Today article also says:

More significantly, when Jesus first meets Peter and gives him a miraculous catch of fish, the script omits any reference to Peter's awareness of his own sinfulness (as per Luke 5) and, instead, has Jesus make bland pronouncements such as, "Give me an hour, and I will give you a whole new life." Later, Jesus tells Peter he's giving him "the chance to change your life" and says that, together, they will "change the world." This is the language of talk shows and infomercials, not the language of first-century Jews and Christians.
The chapter ends with "Change the world" and the next chapter opens with a picture of Roman-occupied Israel. I don't love the heavy-handed "The baker is the busiest vendor of all, with crowds lining up to purchase their daily bread, the symbolic reminder of God's ultimate authority over their future. It would be foolish to buy 'monthly bread.' It would spoil. They buy it day by day, living in the moment, not fixated on a future they cannot control. That gives the people of Israel an important sense of peace at a time when their nation is tormented." (229), though I do like that the first miracle we see (okay, fine, after the miraculous haul of fish) is sending the 7 demons out of Mary of Magdala, though it feels a little strange to me that they don't keep with John's account (2:1-11) of the wedding at Cana as the first (public) miracle.
The Roman soldiers study Jesus as if he is a threat. Their job, should this be the case, would be to subdue him immediately.
      But Jesus doesn't give them cause to do so. His every action is one of peace.
-231
Erm... Okay, Jesus never acts violently except overturning the tables of the moneychangers in the Temple (which story we do get later, pp. 264-266), but come on, "I have not come to bring peace but a sword" (Matthew 10:34) anyone? Plus, I feel like this makes Jesus into someone who is explicitly about not upsetting the status quo.

I'm uncomfortable with the "Jesus' forgiving sin was blasphemous because only God can do that" (even when I hear it in my own Christian contexts, I'm not entirely convinced) -- and REALLY uncomfortable with the "Jesus offered them a new way to connect with God, without animal sacrifice etc." (since I think that oversimplifies the Judaism of the time).

"never talking down to the disciples, patiently letting the words soak in until they understand them fully" (234)

Haha, that's cute...

'His revolution is a grassroots movement" (234-5)

Yup, the Tea Party has ruined me on this. It's totally a true statement, but knowing that this text is being written by conservatives I get squicked.

"He has chosen this moment because his audience of farmers, shepherds, laborers, and their families do not have the financial luxury of taking time away from their occupation during working hours" (235). Nevermind that fishermen "fish all night, mend nets in the daytime, sleep, and then fish some more" (223). I understand what they're trying to get at (and again, I should be a fan, but knowing their background I make inferences and get squicked), but they're being sloppy.

At one of his sermons, Jesus quite clearly told the crowd to uphold the law, knowing that to ignore Roman law would mean a wave of punishment against his new followers. In Israel, Roman law and religious law are closely intertwined. If the Pharisees can catch Jesus in the act of breaking a religious law, then they can try gum before a religious court. Based on the words of the Pharisees, if Jesus is also shown to be a radical or a revolutionary whose teachings will incite rebellion against Rome, he could also be tried before a Roman tribunal. (238)
I appreciate the build-up to Jesus being crucified by Rome, but since when was Jesus an accomodationist? I am forever referencing Horsley's Jesus and Empire and dude, what sermon are you effing talking about? There's the "render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's," which I don't think we actually get in this text, but that's about all I can think of. Dear authors, you're thinking of Paul (or perhaps more accurately, "Paul").

Jesus writes "Judge not, lest you be judged," in the dirt in the story of the woman caught in adultery. I've possibly encountered that before, but I still don't love it. I haven't seen much midrash about *what* (or even why) Jesus wrote in the dirt there, but I want some serious payoff for that mystery.

I'm not sure what to make of the addition of the woman caught in adultery having an infant baby.

"Jesus and two of his disciples" (240) dine with Simon and a small group of Pharisees. Mary Magdalene slips into the room, bringing with her a woman who is a sinner and who brings with her "a small stone jar" (241), She "pours a few drops of the precious liquid on Jesus' feet, and rubs it in with her bare hands" (241). Her fear seems really plausible, and the text tells us that Jesus recognizes how important this moment is for her, but the original text is about an outpouring of excess -- and we don't get Jesus schooling the Pharisee, which I was a bit disappointed about.

The Sabbath healing of the man with the withered hand triggers a riot in the streets, which I was not stoked about, especially because Jesus then leaves the riot to happen -- I'm not disputing his nonviolence stance, but it seems callous to not do anything when "The city's streets are now in a state of unrest. Roman soldiers wade into the fracas, grabbing the Pharisees and dragging them back toward the synagogue. The Romans are only too happy to mete out punishment with fists and clubs. Jesus goes one way, leading his followers to safety. The Pharisees go another In the streets, it escalates into a bloody scuffle between the oppressed Jews and the Roman legionnaires" (244). (Okay, I do like that we used the word "legionnaire," even if we don't get the "We are legion" Gerasene demoniac.)

"The Pharisees represent the common man." (244). I'm glad that the authors acknowledge that, since it's so easy to vilify the Pharisees based on the way the gospel writers always talk about them in opposition to Jesus.

"Peter eyes the man with suspicion. 'We went through all sorts of trials to become disciples,' he mutters to Matthew. 'Now this guy just walks in from who knows where and gets to join?' " (248). No, you didn't. I would like to think that we the readers are supposed to roll our eyes at Peter, but this guy turns out to be Judas, and while the text doesn't go overboard in making him a bad guy from the get-go, it also sort of suggests throughout that Judas doesn't exactly fit as a disciple.

"The crowd is soon demanding more food" (249) bzuh? Are we supposed to dislike the crowd? This seems to really undermine the power of the miracle -- canonically there were always leftovers!

When we hear about the death of Lazarus (p. 253), we learn that Mary of Mary-and-Martha-and-Lazarus is the "sinner" who anointed Jesus' feet -- which is one way to reconcile the multiple accounts of the anointing of Jesus, though it seems a bit random to tell us here that Lazarus is a friend of Jesus' when we've had no prior indication of any relationship (the Mary-and-Martha story is kinda fraught, so I'm okay with losing it, but still) including when the woman showed up and anointed.

Also, we miss the one time when Jesus weeps :(

Immediately after the raising of Lazarus, the chapter ends with Jesus declaring that they're going to Jerusalem. I don't love the framing of, "Don't you think it's time, Peter. that we finally go to the one place that needs to hear my message more than any other?" (256)

We have a recurrent theme of Pontius Pilate's wife Claudia, which I'd forgotten actually shows up in canon (Matthew 27:19) rather than just being a development of tradition.

"He rides a donkey, which is most unusual for a man who walks everywhere, but it is the traditional way a king would come to visit his subjects if he came in peace." (261)

I don't know how actually accurate that is, but I think it's interesting.

"The symbolism is not lost on the crowd, who know their scripture well." (261)

While I don't love (including in the canon) the incessant "and this was to fulfill the prophecy," I actually felt fondly at this line, because it treated "the crowd" as intelligent, thoughtful, well-versed in their traditions.

"What does he mean?" asks the one they call Thomas, the one who is constantly so doubtful. "Destroy the Temple? I don't get it."
      John has a gift for vision and insight that is unparalleled among the disciples. "He's saying that we don't need a stone temple to worship in. He will be our access to God."
      "Really?" Thomas questions him, once again showing his unerring ability to question every little fact.
-p. 269
Oh, so we're using John the Gospel writer as John the disciple -- and could we not be such a jerk about Thomas? I'm glad we retained his "Let us go so that we may die with him" as they head to the dead Lazarus even if he says it "glumly" (254).

[And on page 336 we learn that this same John is on Patmos, too.]

Thomas gets a bit unfairly treated, I felt. I get that having a recurrent characteristic can be a way to flesh out characters, and I kind of liked what they did with Peter as rock, but with Thomas it felt like harping on one note ... like the little sister always wearing purple in a children's book I proofread.

The way Caiphas frames to Judas turning over Jesus to them ... "Save him from yourself while you still can" (273) -- yeah, "This is not at all what he intended." (289) And so we get the version where he gives back the money and hangs himself (Matthew 27:5).

Mary Magdalene is the only person besides the Twelve to be at the Last Supper, which I understand is consistent with traditional representations of the story, but which is contrary to the way I read that story (as an abundant open table).

Interesting that the authors (through Nicodemus) bring up "Judas is bringing him to us before dawn." (Caiaphas) / Nicodemus: "But the law does not allow it. A trial must be held in daylight." (278) -- and again, "You can't go through with this. This is not legal. Our laws say that a capital trial should be held in court, in daylight, and in public." (285) I'm not sure what the authors are trying to get at with that -- almost no one reading this is going to be familiar enough with Jewish law to know that (and if they are, this will likely be the least of the problems they have with this mini-series); does the extra vilifying of the authorities add anything to the story?

I was confused by, as one character states, "The witnesses' evidence in clear and unequivocal" (287) since Mark 14 is at pains to tell us the witnesses' false testimony did not agree (which retaining would seem to support the authors' stance that the authorities are conspiring to unjustly condemn Jesus):

Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for testimony against Jesus to put him to death; but they found none. For many gave false testimony against him, and their testimony did not agree. Some stood up and gave false testimony against him, saying, "We heard him say, 'I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.'" But even on this point their testimony did not agree. Then the high priest stood up before them and asked Jesus, “Have you no answer? What is it that they testify against you?”
-Mark 14:55-60

We get the story of Mary going to the tomb alone. She enters it, so initially she doesn't recognize Jesus because of the darkness she is literally in (wow, I see what you did thar). She recognizes his voice when he says her name. We don't get "Noli me tangere." He tells her, "Go and tell our brothers I am here," and, "overcome with joy, she sprints back to Jerusalem to tell the disciples the good news" (309).

She drags Peter and John back with her, and Peter enters the tomb and is greeted by white light Jesus, who disappears before Peter can touch him (echoing "Noli me tangere"?).

Peter's exuberant response to this is to buy some unleavened bread and pour a cup of wine and say, "His body. And his blood, Believe in him. He's here. In this room. Right now. Remember what he told us: ''I am the way, the truth---'" and then Jesus appears and finishes the sentence: "'--and the life.'" (311)

Hello, Real Presence.

Wow, we totally vocalize the skeptics through Thomas -- "This is not possible. There is no way you are Jesus standing here with us. This is all a fantasy, an apparition brought on by our insane mourning for a man we loved so very much" (311). Which, actually, doesn't feel to me like a jerk characterization of Thomas -- yes, he's standing in for all the modern-day skeptics, but it's legit.

      "No," says Thomas. "This is not possible. There is no way you are Jesus standing here with us. This is all a fantasy, an apparition brought on by our insane mourning for a man we loved so very much"
      Jesus walks toward Thomas and takes his hand. "Thomas," Jesus tells him. "Stop doubting and believe." He places Thomas's fingers into the gaping holes in his hands, and them to the hole in his side. Looking down, Thomas can clearly see the awful marks atop Jesus' feet where the spikes passed through flesh and bone, then into the wood of the cross.
      Thomas doesn't know how to respond. He has traveled far and wide with Jesus, and he knows Jesus' voice and appearance as well as he knows his own. But when Jesus is asking of him is impossible. Thomas is a man of facts--a man committed to truth that cannot be disputed by emotion or trickery. He is being asked to believe that he is touching Jesus, as alive as the last time they all broke bread together in the upper room. It seems impossible. But it is real. This is Jesus, not some dream or vision. Thomas touches the wounds and hears his teacher's voice. Overwhelmed, Thomas looks into Jesus's eyes. "My Lord and my God," he stammers, tears filling his eyes. "It is you."
      Jesus looks at his disciple with compassion. "You have believed because you see me. But blessed are those who have not seen me, and yet have believed."
      Faith floods Thomas's entire being as he slowly accepts what it means to believe that anything is possible through God. This is the faith in Jesus that will transform lives. Not seeing and yet still believing.
-311-312
What really struck me when I was reading this book the first time was the Pentecost. We get cheated out of Road to Emmaus :( and then the disciples are gathered together just them when Pentecost happens.
But Jesus' disciples are not in Galilee. They are gathering in Jerusalem, easily concealed among the hordes of pilgrims. Jesus has promised them that the Holy Spirit will come to them, but they're not quite sure what that means. So they remain in their hiding place, waiting. [....]
      The lamps in the room flicker and smoke as the prayer continues. The room grows suddenly dark. The wind outside rises and sound fills the room. Shutters bang open. Scared but unbowed, the disciples continue praying. Tongues of fire enter the room and settle upon each apostle. The Holy Spirit fills them. Soon each of them is praying in different languages, even though none of them have ever understood those tongues before. In this way, they are being prepared to go out unto all nations and preach the Word of God.
      Their prayers and their foreign words now miraculously reach out across the city. People can hear the apostles, even though they cannot see them. [....]
      The wind howls across Jerusalem. Even a Roman soldier understands the simple phrase now ringing in the ears of every man, woman, and child in Jerusalem: "Everyone who calls on the Lord will be saved."
-314-316
Okay, rereading Acts, that is the last line of the Joel quote -- apparently what I always remember about the Pentecost story is the actual experience of the tongues of fire and everyone hearing the message in their own language.

We get "silver and gold have I none..." (to quote the song I learned as a child), the martyrdom of Stephen, and the conversion of Saul/Paul -- which adds in Saul meeting Ananias earlier in his journey to Damascus and having him arrested and beaten (he escapes). I don't love, "Saul hasn't touched the meal provided for him last night, and he has knocked over a bowl as he groped in the darkness" (324) since I think Saul fasted on purpose and I don't love the "poor helpless disabled people."

Rather than the bedsheet vision before Cornelius' visit, we get Jesus telling Peter to move out of the Jewish communities to Caesarea -- Peter: "But cleanliness keeps us close to God." / Jesus: "Peter, you could not be closer. I am with you always. And it is I who make all things clean." (328) The narration continues: "Peter is confused. All along, he has been thinking that only Jews can be led to faith in Jesus. It is a radical notion that anyone, of any faith or nationality, can also receive God's blessing." I eyeroll a bit, because the battle Paul fought was whether Gentiles had to convert to Judaism first -- there was never any doubt that Gentiles could e.g. come to Jesus.

We do get the conversion of Cornelius' family, which is sort of a nice nod to the historical fact that entire families would convert, though it's also a little uncomfortable because it's the patriarch (word used advisedly) making the decision on behalf of everyone else.

Paul's best lines are all packed into one opening evangelism speech (actually directed at a community of believers who, remembering his past, "debate within themselves whether or not to set aside the peace of their beliefs just long enough to kill this awful man standing before them" [331]) -- which I can buy for dramatic narrative purposes (I'm reminded that we don't know exactly *how* Paul started his communities). Interestingly, one of the new converts is Luke the Gospel writer.

Then we get a series of martyrdoms (including Peter famously being crucified upside down) and John on Patmos -- because of course you have to end with Revelation (though in a very abbreviated fashion).

Saturday, February 16, 2013

[Evolution of the Word] 1 Thessalonians

I forgot that one of my favorite verses is in here -- "Test everything. Hold on to the good" (5:21, NIV).

"Did you just do Bible Study over the phone?" my housemate asked me last Sunday. Yup.

Chelsea is a much deeper reader than I am.

She talked about the fact that Paul didn't call the Thessalonians to repentance but rather to do more [of the good they were already doing]. She mentioned Patrick Cheng's idea of sin as immaturity. [I haven't yet read Cheng's "grace" book, but he mentions the idea in e.g. this interview.]

She's reading the Jewish Annotated New Testament (which I want to own*) and talked about what it says about the "the Jews killed Jesus" portion (2:14-16) -- which I somehow had no recollection of having read ... what even, self?

She said that the JANT suggests Paul said "Judeans" but that his Gentile audience might not have caught that nuance. I talked about Borg's point [which I wrote about in my last post] that Paul's prime audience was Gentiles who were already attracted to (and somewhat involved with) Judaism (including synagogue life), so I wasn't entirely convinced that the Thessalonians took away a simplistic "the Jews killed Jesus (so we hates them, precious)" message -- though it is certainly sadly true that later in Christianity, that became a dominant message.

At the end of Chapter 2, Paul says to the community, "You are our glory and joy."
Chelsea talked about this idea of it feeling like it doesn't matter what happens to you because you know this community will continue on, like your legacy.
This reminded me of the importance in Judaism's lack of belief in an afterlife and how that leads to children being considered very important (they're your legacy).
In articulating what she said back to her, I linked it to the parent language Paul uses (e.g., "But we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children." [2:7b], "As you know, we dealt with each one of you like a father with his children" [2:11]) and she said that parent language doesn't actually resonate for her (here) -- and rightly pointed out Paul's frequent use of sibling language (Ari: every time in I read "brothers and sisters" in Borg's NRSV, I ~auto-corrected it to "siblings"). She talked about the idea that there are people who, she can't explain/understand herself apart from them -- those people have so supported/formed her that she can't take any credit on her own.

I said that having read Borg's front matter, I was primed to have the "rapture" passages stick out for me. Borg talks about the fact that Paul wasn't trying to provide a blueprint of the End Times but was reassuring people whose loved ones have died. I was also reminded of Prof. Koester talking about the "meeting Jesus in the air" as not meaning that the people are gonna go up into the sky to live but as just meaning that like when one leaves the walls of a city to meet an incoming king, you go out into the roads ... since Jesus is going to come from the sky, of course that's where you have to go to meet him on his way.

Later in the week, I pulled up my class notes:

1 Thess 4 -- Paul & Timothy forgot to tell them about the resurrection of the dead? that is NOT the problem Paul is addressing. people have died, so what about them when Christ comes?

could not be buried inside city, so buried outside city, along road (esp. fashionable decorated ones) -- people want the tombs of their loved ones to be seen

apanthesis -- what happens if a dignitary comes to a city? city sends out delegation, who meets king/governor/whatever outside the city and leads that person in with a triumphal entrance

meet Christ on clouds because Christ is coming from the heavens -- the parousia is Christ coming back to earth (clouds are not to take people up to the heavens)

ch.5: who will be scared by the coming of the Lord? those who say "peace & security" (e.g., the Empire) -- those people are the first who will perish
Christians: don't be scared, you are already children of the day/light

I mentioned to Chelsea on Sunday that I'm used to Jesus' parables about "no one will know the day or the hour" and that yes, Jesus does also talk about the importance of being prepared, but that this emphasis on "you are children of the light" is something I'm less used to.

Other notes from Koester's class:

1 Thess 2:13-16 -- the wrath against "the Jews" is a non-Pauline interpolation

"[the more difficult reading is a ~good criterion] -- but not in the case where the more difficult reading is idiotic"

Up Next: Galatians

[book | HuffPo article]

-----

* I was thinking about how I have a gut-level love A-J Levine (though I have still never actually read any of her books -- she was at Karl Donfried's retirement symposium #SmithCollege, but my love for her is most connected to her being the "Bible Study" person at the first Convo I went to #Vanderbilt; I was less in love with the last talk I saw her at #Harvard but still) and I was thinking about who else I have these strong gut-level love memories for, and my first thought was Lauren Berlant ("Monster") whom I also first encountered at a talk at Smith and whose work I've never read (I looked her up sometime this past year and her work doesn't actually appeal to me that much).

Continuing to recall my Smith experience, I remember Tammy Baldwin Bruce, who, okay, my dominant memory is, "I wanna be that hot at 41 ... and I want your silver coat," and I would probably find her even more problematic now than I did then -- though still, MUCH better choice than Ann Coulter, Smith College Republicans.

(I have a knee-jerk fondness for Tammy Baldwin, but that's more about a Pavlovian response to #Smith & #queer than any personal experience of mine.)

Who else do I have a gut-level deep and abiding love for from my time at Smith? Okay, "The Naked I," and I think Toby Davis identifies as a trans man, though I have fond memories of S. Bear Bergman but not in the same way that I do e.g. A-J Levine -- huh, I think there's an element of seeing myself in them/wanting to be them, where that happens more intuitively with women-people 'cause I am a woman. I have a lot of love for certain male teachers I had at Smith, and certainly there are male people I admire a lot, and I used to say I wanted to grow up to be Eugene Volokh "thoughtful and consistent and intelligent and knowledgeable and compassionate and yeah," but there's an appeal to awesome women-people that doesn't happen for me with awesome male-people.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

[Evolution of the Word] (the past is) prologue

H!PS-Chelsea and I talked about reading the "New Testament" in ~chronological order, and she reminded me that Marcus Borg put out a book [HuffPo article] which orders the NT documents (NRSV) chronologically (and also includes some front matter), so that's what we're using for our read-through. (Well, I'm using the book anyway -- she may just be using his ordering and not shelling out the cash for the book.)

When she and I were first talking about it, I felt like that's how Bibles "should" be printed (in chronological order) -- which I think makes sense especially since the canonical NT gives the impression of being in chronological order, but it is also true that I'm a Western child of the Enlightenment, can you tell? :)

So I was struck by this in Chapter 3:

I began my introductory New Testament course one year with Paul's letters rather than the gospels. About half of my students had grown up without any involvement in a church, and so they knew little or nothing about Jesus and the gospels. Paul knew about Jesus, but they didn't. They were lost as they tried to figure out what on earth Paul's letters were about. I taught the course that way only once.
(p.16-17)
Right.

I eyeroll at Christians who insist that if you just pick up the Bible (by which I think they might mean the New Testament, I've never asked) and read it through, you'll be converted; but it does make sense to start with the documents which tells stories about the life and ministry of Jesus Christ before moving in to the documents which focus on resolving disputes in communities of Christ-followers.

If one has been raised in a Christian tradition, I think it matters less what order the documents are printed in because you've already absorbed something of an oral tradition -- just like Paul's audience -- but yes, if you're designing a book you can hand to newbies (though seriously, people, that is not how the Bible is intended -- I know, I know, I am All About The Text, but I have been converted to the importance of in-community), you probably don't wanna open with 1 Thessalonians (which Chelsea and I are gonna talk about tomorrow -- you know you wanna read with us :) ).

+

Borg also talks about why, "when Paul arrived in a new city, he went first to the synagogue--not because his mission was to convert Jews, but because Gentile 'God-lovers' [Gentiles who were attracted to Judaism] would be there" (p.26). He points out:

it is unlikely that Paul preached in synagogues or to crowds of strangers who were completely unfamiliar with Judaism. What would his message, which makes so much use of Jewish language and tradition, have meant to Gentiles who knew nothing about Judaism?
(p.26)
Which got me thinking about how evangelicals in my day present Christianity as its own self-contained thing -- reminded me of an exercise I think we did in some FCS setting once about what we would say in a gospel for our time, as well as reminding me of the troublesome tendency in so many Christian communities to downplay/dismiss/oppose Judaism :/

+

Other things I didn't know:

In the canon, the thirteen letters attributed to Paul are organized according to two principles. The nine letters addressed to communities are placed first, followed by the four letters addressed to individuals. Then, within each category, the letters are arranged in descending order of length, from longest to shortest. The exception is Galatians; it comes before Ephesians, even though the latter is about two hundred words longer.
(pp.29-30)

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

[unrelenting War on Advent] playlist

At the gym this morning, a trainer and her client were like, "Yay, Christmas music!" and my first response was "Unrelenting War on Advent!" and then I realized the song playing on the radio was "Let It Snow," which isn't actually a Christmas song. (In contrast, at Trader Joe's on Sunday I heard "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" and cringed for multiple reasons.)

The trainer said that one year it was like the last day before Break and barely anyone was in and she had Christmas music on and someone asked her to turn it off and she did but she thought, "Grinch." I did not say, "Unrelenting War on Advent!"

She talked about some class she does where she plays holiday music and she really does try to be inclusive -- e.g., including the Chanukah song. (On reflection, I assume she means the Adam Sandler song -- which is trufax an amusing song, though, hi, I bet Jews have lots of songs they sing at Chanukah, because they're Jews and thus have lots of songs for every occasion.)

Somewhere in here the client commented that there aren't really a lot of "Advent-y" songs, and in my head I was like: THANK YOU for acknowledging that the season of Advent even exists! -- Advent songs aren't peppy upbeat radio songs (like "Let It Snow") because they're about expectant waiting, and also they're explicitly religious so they're not radio songs and ugh, we mostly don't play explicitly religious songs on the radio period for obvious reasons (though, okay, I have a Josh Groban album (no, I don't remember why -- possibly a gift from Singspiration) which has actualfax Jesus songs on it, so probably so does every other album, of which there are many since apparently everyone needs to make a Christmas/holiday album [Edit: And on that subject, on Thursday night, someone I know from high school posted to fb: "How was I completely unaware that Sufjan Stevens released another amazing 58 song, 5 album Christmas extravaganza? So ridiculously excited right now! http://www.npr.org/2012/11/19/165470944/first-listen-sufjan-stevens-silver-gold " /edit ] -- because people need 87 different renditions of the same few dozen songs for their parties? idek.), so when we talk about "Christmas music" we probably mostly mean either generic winter stuff (which varies in quality, and obviously elides the entire Southern Hemisphere) or songs about "Santa" -- which I want to burn in a fire because, ugh, lying to your children.

I am not trying to take away anyone's holiday joy* but seriously, if you want joyful music in the darkness, go for it. If you want it to explicitly reference the cold/snow/dark of the season, go for it. Please don't subject me to crappy music, and please respect my desire to observe my personal spiritual/religious practice of expectant waiting during the ~4 weeks of Advent and then celebration during the 12 Days of Christmas (see also: Lent and Eastertide); see also: my desire to not have "Christmas" cantatas or carol sings during Advent.

[Later today, someone on facebook linked to: The Daily Show with John Stewart: "The War on Christmas: Friendly Fire Edition" (it gets good about 4 minutes in -- "Christmas is so big now it's eating other holidays").]

* posts I have read recently include:

When I was thinking about secular radio not playing Advent songs I remembered that on Sunday, @OccupyAdvent shared their #adventplaylist:

and then today they Tweeted the YouTube playlist link.

I am debating including Ani DiFranco, "The Waiting Song" (or "Second Intermission" -- yes, I ran a lyrics search for "wait").

Edit: @OccupyAdvent added:

And friends of mine suggested:
  • Joni Mitchell, "River" (Coming on Christmas, waiting)
  • Avril Lavigne, "I'm with You" (I tend think of Avril Lavigne's "I'm with You" as describing my relationship with God in general, but it strikes me as pretty darn Advent-y)
Plus, obvs., given my joy sadhana this season: Bob Franke, "Say Yes"

And after Wednesday's concert, possibly: Jenna Lindbo, "Angels on the Subway"

Sunday, December 2, 2012

[Advent 1: Hope]

Last night I read the d'var Torah that Velveteen Rabbi offered that morning at her shul on this week's parsha, "Vayishlach."

She talks about Jacob wrestling with the angel and says:

Having received a new name, Jacob bestows a new name: he names that place, that bend in the river, Peni'el, literally "the face of God," saying, "For I have seen God face-to-face, yet my life has been spared."
(which is really interesting in and of itself, given the multi-vocality of Scripture on seeing the face of God -- e.g., God to Moses in Exodus 33:20 "you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.") and then talks about Jacob's encounter with Esau, where he says:
No, please, if I have truly found favor in your sight, take the offering from my hand; for to see your face is like seeing the face of God.
She closes with the bit from the Talmud about each individual human being being created in the image of God but each of us are unique -- unlike identical imperial coins each stamped with the mark of the secular leader.

This all seemed quite a lovely connection to Molly's "Light Gets In" Advent theme. But then she closes the post with her 70 Faces Torah poem on this parsha, which ends with such a downer:

For one impossible moment Jacob reached out.
To see your face, he said, is like seeing
the face of God: brother, it is so good!

But when Esau replied, let us journey together
from this day forward as we have never done
and I will proceed at your pace, Jacob demurred.

The children are frail, and the flocks:
you go on ahead, he said, and I will follow
but he did not follow.

Once Esau headed out toward Seir
Jacob went the other way, to Shechem, where
his sons would slaughter an entire village.

And again the possibility
of inhabiting a different kind of story
vanished into the unforgiving air.

***
The theme for this year’s Advent is Light Gets In. No matter what walls we throw up, what boxes we climb in or that circumstances put us in—Light gets in. Light will have its way.

This Sunday in worship, I’ll be preaching on the walls humans throw up that block out Christ’s light. We’ll begin building an actual wall in the sanctuary, that will grow each week up until Christmas Eve, when the Light will get in. Will you bring cardboard boxes to church anytime you show up, and leave them on the chancel, and help us duct-tape them together to build our Babel-wall up toward heaven and obscure the cross?

-Molly in This Week at First Church

To my mind, Advent is about the light slowly breaking in (we light first one candle and then a second, and so on), so I don't love this theme.

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Pre-service lectio divina happened in the Parlor, and as a result we could hear the pre-service choir rehearsal. I heard "Emmanuel, Expected Jesus," and fell into Advent.

...

We did Luke 1:5-25, and I was struck by Gabriel's statement, "I stand in the presence of God."

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Before service, I picked up a hardcopy of Molly's Advent calendar.

December 2
First Sunday in Advent: Put on your sparkle cream. Glow.
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Unison Prayer of Confession

Light-Bringer,

We offer you our repentance.
We replace holy days with holidays.
We hurry past opportunities to give the gifts of kindness and honesty.
We do not listen to angels in our dreams, forgive those dearest to us,
Or welcome into hearts and homes, the poor and the stranger.
If all sin is separation, forgive us for all the walls we throw up, and let your Light in.

-Maren Tirabassi, adapted

+

Jamie facilitated an Advent Devotional Workshop, which I attended.

I was starting to investigate the art supplies when the horde of kids who had been playing war or something all came in and decided to do art (well, Simon was like, "Guys, can't we go back to what we were doing before?" and got ignored by all the kids wrapped up in doing art, so he compromised by making pictures of e.g. ninjas) so I stepped back from the chaos and worked on poetry.

Sue D., to her husband, later: "I was looking for the kids, and I found a craft fair, so I sat down."

I think I definitely want to go back to Art Night.

***

I really liked the Call to Worship we used at CWM tonight:

[One] How shall we prepare God's house for the coming of the Promised One?
[Many] With fragrant branches of cedar, the tree of excellence and strength.
[One] How shall we prepare God's house for the Christ child?
[Many] With a stable and a manger where in the weeks to come, the mystery of the Advent story will be revealed and where the entire creation will welcome the Promised One.
[One] How shall we prepare God's house for Emmanuel, God with us?
[Many] With garlands of pine and fir, whose leaves are ever living, ever green -- symbols of our faith in the living God.
[One] How shall we prepare God's house for the prophet of Galilee?
[Many] With sprigs of holly and ivy, telling of Jesus' faithfulness, even unto death and resurrection.
[One] How shall we prepare our hearts for this revelation of God?
[Many] By hearing again the words of the prophets, the stories of the ancestors of Jesus, and the promises of God.
[One] For in the story of Jesus we see revealed the transforming power of God, and we are reminded anew of God's vision of wholeness, justice, and peace for all creation.
[Many] Thanks be to God!
...

Marla preached on Isaiah 11:1-9 and 1 Samuel 16:1-13. I was mostly meh, but she closed with talking about the fact that we ignore the parts of the Biblical stories that don't seem "proper" or "dignified" and inviting us to think about, if Jesus were to come as a baby a second time, what unexpected places that baby might show up in -- and her shocker suggestion was: born to a Wall Street executive (I thought of the Buddha).

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

[Advent] "Do not be afraid."

Sunday, I decided that my joy sadhana verse for Advent would be this from the Bob Franke concert I went to on Friday:
Hail full of grace, the Lord is with you
Worlds without end depend on you
Bless'd is the one whom you bring forth
Whom no one else can bring
-"Say Yes," Bob Franke
and then Monday afternoon this came up on my GoogleReader:
The Angels of Advent are saying, "Do not be afraid" -- we bring good news of immigration reform.

And what does fear do to us?

Although I vaguely registered the post title ("Been There, Bordered That. So Why Are We Still So Afraid?") when I first glanced at it on my GoogleReader, but my eyes didn't actually register the "we bring good news of immigration reform" portion when I glanced at the screen, so my entire takeaway was the reminder that the angels of Advent tell us "Do not be afraid."

Yes, on reflection I remember that arguably one reason the angels routinely open with this declaration is that people were likely to be scared of the angels -- God often asks scary things of us, plus angels themselves are creatures of wind and fire

Seraphs were in attendance above G!d; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. -Isaiah 6:2
Things I learned on Monday: "seraphim" literally means "burning ones."

BUT.

I still think the general message of, "Do not be afraid," is powerful and relevant. Or rather, "Feel the fear and do it anyway" (and now I can't find the Felix Baumgartner article I saw linked a while ago, alas). Insert DBT evangelism here or something. Which, yes, obvious caveats about legit danger &c.

I'm actually not interested in the framing of being not afraid of what God Wills for us -- "I know God won't give me more than I can handle. I just wish He didn't trust me so much." -- but rather the general idea of actively moving through our lives less caged in by fear. Breathing through the fear. Feeling the fear and doing it anyway.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

disability and theology texts

I was really uncomfortable with Molly's sermon a week ago Sunday (for a take I like better, check out SarcasticLutheran's sermon).

Molly and I chatted on her porch on Friday, and we agreed to continue to engaging with the issue.

So I wanted to put up a list of the books on theology+disability that people recommended when I crowdsourced that Sunday (thanks to those who signal-boosted and/or responded).

  • A Healing Homiletic: Preaching and Disability (Kathleen Black)
  • This Abled Body: Rethinking Disabilities in Biblical Studies (ed. Hector Avalos).
  • round-table discussion about disability & Biblical studies in Women in the Hebrew Bible (ed. Alice Bach).
  • Spirit and the Politics of Disablement (Sharon V. Betcher)
  • The Disabled God: Toward a Liberatory Theology of Disability (Nancy L. Eiesland)
  • The Wounded Healer (Henri J.M. Nouwen)
I also went to my GoodReads to pull up the stuff I read 2-3 years ago (NB: not all of these texts explicitly deal with theology -- this is more to share some of the context that I have when I approach this issue):
  • Disability and Christian Theology: Embodied Limits and Constructive Possibilities (Deborah Beth Creamer)
  • Deaf Liberation Theology (Hannah Lewis)
  • Theology Without Words: Theology in the Deaf Community (Wayne Morris)
  • The Rejected Body: Feminist Philosophical Reflections on Disability (Susan Wendell)
  • Bending Over Backwards: Disability, Dismodernism & Other Difficult Positions (Lennard J. Davis)
  • Desiring Disability: Queer Theory Meets Disability Studies (GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies #9.5)
  • Crip Theory: Cultural Signs of Queerness and Disability (Robert McRuer)

Friday, July 27, 2012

stars not crosses (except maybe yes crosses)

Monday night I was gchatting with Batshua and she asked:
How do you feel about prayer beads?
I am drooling at them.
I already have two sets and am not buying more.
But this woman does lovely prayer beads for … pretty much anyone.
I'm not much of a prayer beads person myself, but I browsed and we had this conversation:
me: I keep looking at the Jewish ones and going "ooh!" and then remembering that oh, that's a Jewish symbol, not a generic star. Why's my religion gotta have its core symbol be one I'm so not into?
her: Well, I don't think there's anything WRONG with having something with a Jewish star on it just because you like it?
I mean, it's not like you're gonna nail Jesus to it.
That would be weird.
me: Fair -- it still feels somewhat appropriative to me, though.
her: <— is an eclectic pagan
her: <— politely appropriates all kinds of stuff
Later, I read Sarcastic Lutheran's "Sermon about Mary Magdalen, the masacre in our town, and defiant alleluias," and was surprised to find that in reading it I found a way to approach/embrace the Cross that makes it more palatable for me.

Nadia writes:

My Bishop Allan Bjornberg once said that the Greatest spiritual practice isn’t yoga or praying the hours or living in intentional poverty although these are all beautiful in their own way. The greatest spiritual practice is just showing up.

And in some ways Mary Magdalen is like, the patron saint of just showing up.

Because showing up means being present to what is real, what is actually happening. She didn’t necessarily know what to say or what to do or even what to think….but none of that is nearly as important as the fact that she just showed up. She showed up at the cross where her teacher Jesus became a victim of our violence and terror. She looked on as the man who had set her free from her own darkness bore the evil and violence of the whole world upon himself and yet still she showed up.

[...]

And then after Beer & Hymns we sat in a noisy Denver bar and sang Vespers together, we sang our prayer to God, and in our singing I heard a defiant tone. The sound of a people who simply will not believe that violence wins, a people who know that the sound of the risen Christ speaking each of our names drowns out all other voices.

It drowns out the sound of the political posturing, the sound of cries for vengeance, the sound of our own fears and anxieties and the deafening uncertainty – because all of it is no match for the shimmering sound of the resurrected Christ calling our name. Because in baptism we are a people marked by the cross of Christ. Upon our foreheads is the mark of violence and death but this violence and death has been overcome by the love of a God who in the 3 days between Good Friday and Easter reached into the very bowels of hell and said even here I will not be without you. //This is the God to whom we sing. A God who didn’t say we would never be afraid but that we would never be alone. A God who shows up. In the violence of the cross, in the darkness of a garden before dawn, in the gardener, in a movie theater, in the basement of a bar.

[...]

Singing in the midst of evil is what it means to be disciples like Mary Magdalen.

Because to be disciples like Mary Magdalen is to show up. It is to be a people who stand – who stand at the cross and stand in the midst of evil and violence and even if we are uncertain we are still unafraid to be present to all of it. We are unafraid to name the dark demons of evil and to call a thing what it is. And to be disciples like Mary Magdalen is also to be a people who weep. A people who show up to the tombs and weep. Weep for ourselves and weep for each other and weep for our city and weep for dead 6 year old girls. And to be disciples like Mary Magdalen is to be a people who listen and turn at the sound of our names. Amongst the sounds of sirens and fear and isolation and uncertainty and loss we hear a sound that muffles all the rest: that still, small voice of Christ speaking our names. And finally, the very reason we can do these things is not because we happen to be the people with the best set of skills for this work. Trust me, we are not. But the reason we can be disciples like Mary Magdalen – the reason we can stand and we can weep and we can listen is because finally we, like Mary are bearers of resurrection. We know that on the 3rd day he rose again. We do not need to be afraid. Because to sing to God amidst all of this is to defiantly proclaim like Mary Magdalen did to the apostles, that death is simply not the final word. To defiantly say that a light shines in the darkness and the darkness can not will not shall not overcome it. And so, evil be damned, because even as we go to the grave, still we make our song Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.

Amen.

The idea of thinking about the Cross as (Deity) facing the horrors of the world, showing up, knowing that this is not the end of the story, persisting in and through the darkness.

In some ways I worry that this is retrojecting the Resurrection onto the Cross (I don't think my theology is that the Resurrection was already contained in the Cross), but Nadia's sermon reminds me about showing up in the darkness. At interfaith discussion last night, Jane(?) talked about having faith ... not necessarily that things would turn out "well" but being at a point where "good" and "bad" don't matter in a way (I didn't think of this language at the time, but I think relaxing into that it Just Is).

And at Rest and re/New this week, we heard an excerpt from Living Buddha, Living Christ in which Thich Nhat Hanh talks about the Eucharist using language of "the body of God" (instead of the "Body of Christ" language I'm more familiar with) and talking about the cosmos.

(The fancy crosses still creep me out, though. The Cross is not a fancy decoration.)

Friday, April 13, 2012

[Jesus and Kink] Thomas and Jesus' wounds

Apparently our current Rest and re/New series topic is "ways to/of faith," and this Wednesday (April 11) we began with our bodies/senses.

This upcoming Sunday (Easter 2), the lectionary Gospel is the story of Thomas who refuses to believe without touching the wounds of the Risen Christ.

Jeff said he thinks Thomas gets a bad rep. (I was reminded that at EDS' Second Sunday ~service on Easter Sunday, Eda said she wishes we would call "Doubting Thomas" e.g. "different epistemology Thomas" -- he just has a different learning style :) )

First he pointed out that no one else in John's post-Resurrection story had believed without evidence. Mary finds the empty tomb, runs and tells Simon Peter and the beloved disciple, who come to the empty tomb and also do not believe.

(I pointed out that John tells us the beloved disciple believed, he just didn't understand -- at H!PS on Monday, Becky had preached on Ecclesiastes 3 and John 20:1-16, and in reading the John I was struck, as I always am, by John telling us that the beloved disciple believed and then in the very next sentence telling us that they did not yet understand that Jesus had to rise from the dead [which makes me ask: so what did the beloved disciple believe?!].)

Jesus appears to Mary in the garden, who goes and tells the disciples: "I have seen the Risen One!" John doesn't explicitly tell us that the disciples don't believe Mary, but the next story we read is of Jesus appearing to the disciples locked up in the room, who THEN go on to proclaim, "We have seen the Risen One!" And Thomas just has the misfortune of not being in that room.

Jeff M. went on to say that Thomas wants more than to just see -- Thomas also wants to touch; Thomas wants a Close Encounter not just of the First kind but of the Third kind (though looking at that scale, I think it maybe doesn't mean exactly what Jeff M. was presenting it as meaning).

He said there's lots of art of the scene -- with Thomas sort of poking at Jesus' wounds, and that seems almost pornographic to him... that he imagines it as more of an embrace.

He talked about Jesus' willingness to let Thomas touch Jesus' "most intimate, most vulnerable, most wounded places," which I found a really powerful framing.

I was reminded of the "Jesus and Kink" series we'd talked about last week*, and the thoughts/conversations I'd had since then about how to do such a series. I'm less interested in proof-texting that Jesus condones/endorses kink than I am in the really queer ways people have engaged with Scripture/Divinity -- like the polyvalences of Christ's wounds ... interaction with bodily orifices as sexual, interactions with wounds as kink, the ways in which Jesus' blood on the Cross can be coded as generative/reproductive, the ways in which fluid-producing orifices can be coded as feminine, etc., etc.

I'm making my way through my best friend's copy of Queer Theology: Rethinking Western Body (ed. Gerard Loughlin), and in Chapter 7, Gerard Loughlin says, "for all these elements [Averil Cameron's 'central elements in orthodox Christianity -- the Incarnation, the Resurrection, the Trinity, the Virgin Birth, and the Eucharist'], the body is not just a symbol of their truth, but the site where it is realized."

---

*Before Rest and re/New last Wednesday (April 4), Keith and Jeff M. were talking about doing a Mindfulness series next (in a way which suggested it was continuing a conversation they'd had previously). Keith talked about maybe using the upstairs Sanctuary space. And then I don't know how we got there exactly, but Keith was joking about Jesus on the cross and hitting people with reeds.

me: "I don't think that would exactly draw the kind of crowd you're looking for."
Jeff M.: "Oh, it would definitely draw a crowd. (This is Davis Square, after all.)"
me: "Oh, I know -- that's what I was getting at. I just don't think it would be quite the crowd you're looking for."
Keith and Jeff M.: [make noises about being an inclusive and welcoming, big tent kind of church]
Jeff M.: (deadpan) "Jesus and Kink is our next series after Mindfulness."
me: "If I thought you were being serious, I would be so excited -- but you're not."
Jeff M.: "How do you know I'm not?"

Sunday, March 4, 2012

[34] This is not really a sermon on The Cross [Lent 2B, CWM]

Mark 8:31-38

8:31 Then Jesus began to teach them that the Promised One 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.

8:32 Jesus said all this quite openly. And Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke Jesus.

8:33 But turning and looking at the disciples, Jesus rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

8:34 Jesus called the crowd with the disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

8:35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.

8:36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?

8:37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?

8:38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Promised One will also be ashamed when that one comes in the glory of the Divine Parent with the holy angels."


This is not really a sermon on The Cross

Last week, Pr. Lisa mentioned the discomfort many progressive Christians have with the concept of “sin.” I apparently was acculturated differently, because I do not have a knee-jerk negative reaction to sin talk.

If you ask me, “What is ‘sin’?” I say, “Sin is that which separates us from God” -- and if I’m really thinking, I add that it also separates us from each other, and from ourselves.

“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)

Our consistent missing the mark is a part of the human condition, and our strivings to ever draw closer to the Divine are our best selves at work in us.

While I don’t have a problem with discussion of sin, I have basically zero interest in the glorification of Jesus’ suffering and death. I have, in fact, an active resistance to it.

I absolutely, full-stop, refuse to believe in a God who requires the brutal death of a Beloved Child in order to reconcile the world to Godself. That’s abusive and cruel and irreconcilable with the God of Love who is at the center of my faith.

So I tend to not engage with the Cross much.

And fortunately for me, today’s lectionary doesn’t require that I come up with a coherent theology of the Cross that I can live with.
8:31 Then Jesus began to teach them that the Promised One 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.
This isn’t because God requires some sort of torture in order for Jesus to be an acceptable sacrifice -- it’s because when you subvert the Powers, that’s what happens.

In preparing for this sermon, I couldn’t find my copy of Richard Horsley’s Jesus and Empire, but I could find my copy of Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan’s The First Paul. In the chapter “Christ crucified,” one of the section heading is, “As the revelation of the character of empire.” They write:
In the first-century setting of Paul and his hearers, “Christ crucified” had an anti-imperial meaning. Paul’s shorthand summary was not “Jesus died,” not “Jesus was killed,” but “Christ crucified.” Jesus didn’t just die, wasn’t simply murdered -- he was crucified. This meant that Jesus had been executed by imperial authority: crucifixion was a Roman form of execution. In Paul’s world, a cross was always a Roman cross.

Rome reserved crucifixion for two categories of people: those who challenged imperial rule (violently or nonviolently) and chronically defiant slaves (not simply disobedient or difficult slaves). If you were a murderer or a robber, you would not be crucified, though you might be executed another way. The two groups who were crucified had something in common: both rejected Roman imperial domination. Crucifixion was a very public, prolonged, and painful form of execution that carried the message, “Don’t you dare defy imperial authority, or this will happen to you.” It was state torture and terrorism.

To proclaim “Christ crucified” was to signal at once that Jesus was an anti-imperial figure, and that Paul’s gospel was an anti-imperial gospel. The empire killed Jesus. The cross was the imperial “no” to Jesus. But God had raised [Jesus]. The resurrection was God’s “yes” to Jesus, God’s vindication of Jesus -- and this also God’s “no” to the powers that had killed [Jesus].

(p. 131-2)
Paul exhorts us not to be conformed to the world (Romans 1:122 -- see p. 139 in the book), and the Cross is a powerful reminder that Jesus came not to prop up the systems of the world but to subvert them.
8:31 Then Jesus began to teach them that the Promised One 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.

8:32 Jesus said all this quite openly. And Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke Jesus.

8:33 But turning and looking at the disciples, Jesus rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."
We don’t get the details of Peter’s rebuke, but we do know that in the Garden, Peter takes up a sword to defend Jesus from arrest. Many of the Jews of Jesus’ time were desperately hoping for a Savior -- and many of them expected that Savior to be a Davidic king, a warrior who would violently overthrow the Roman occupiers.

Obviously, this is NOT the kind of Savior that Jesus was.

I think one of the things Jesus is saying here is that Peter is still so locked in to the ways of the world, still so insistent that Jesus behave in that way, wanting Jesus to win a game that Jesus refuses to even play.
8:34 Jesus called the crowd with the disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

8:35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.

8:36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?

8:37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?

8:38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Promised One will also be ashamed when that one comes in the glory of the Divine Parent with the holy angels."
I don’t think Jesus means losing one’s life in a really unhealthy self-denying way. Jesus doesn’t call us to martyrdom for the sake of martyrdom, nor to suffering for the sake of suffering.

But to want our own will at the expense of the Will of God? THAT’S a problem.

In The First Paul, Borg and Crossan talk about “participatory atonement.“ They say:
We participate in the death and resurrection of Jesus, die and rise with Christ, and thereby enter a new life in Christ. Participatory atonement does not mean Jesus died for us, and therefore we don’t need to. Instead, it means we are to die and rise with Christ. It is metaphorical language for a process of radical internal change. (p. 137, emphasis mine)
At First Church Somerville this morning, Molly preached on Galatians 5:16-24, in which Paul talks about our selfishness and all that stems from that as being crucified.

Borg and Crossan suggest that a better word for “redemption” as in “The redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:24) would be “liberation” -- “the liberation that is in Christ Jesus” (p. 146).

We are called to give up our ties to the domination systems of this world, to give up our addictions and our political jockeying, to die to all those death-dealing systems of oppression, so that we can be resurrected with Christ into new life -- life abundant and everlasting.

May it be so.

Amen.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

[33] "Do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready." [Song of Songs; H!PS: Sophia Circle; Feb. 13, 2012]

“Do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready.” (NRSV)

My dominant impression of the Song of Songs is a passionate love song -- overflowing with that positive energy of being so very much in love. Somehow it’s easy for me to forget about all the moments of withdrawal, of absence, and even of violence.

While the two lovers spend much of the book caught up in their love for each other, this is not a love without risk.

The Shulamite woman is black and beautiful. As Christopher King points out [in The Queer Bible Commentary, p. 358]:
She is as exotic and elusive as the black shelters of desert nomads (‘tents of Kedar’). Yet, as she has come as close to the privileges coveted by Jerusalem’s insiders as the ‘curtains of Solomon’ are to the intimacies of the king’s bedchamber.
This is the first thing she says to the daughters of Jerusalem -- the song opens with a hymn directed at her beloved, but when she first explicitly addresses the daughters of Jerusalem, it is to say, “I am black and beautiful.” She has worked for her family -- this outdoor work implicitly contributing to her appearance being other than model perfect -- and now her brothers reject her.

Life is full of tradeoffs -- who she has become is someone who might well be undesirable to many potential partners, but having found someone who desires her just as she is, she finds herself rejected by her family. Our whole lives, we risk rejection.

She moves on to praise her beloved, building to descriptions of her fantasies of their physical activities together and she adjures the daughters of Jerusalem, "Do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready." (Song of Songs 2:7b)

“Sustain me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am faint with love.” (Song of Songs 2:5)

In reading through the Song of Songs in preparing for this preach, one of the things that struck me was how frightening this intense love is sometimes. The ways in which the overwhelmingness of this love is frightening (and later, the withdrawal and the seeking) really resonated with me -- to be so caught up in one’s passionate adoration of, and desire for, another so as to feel faint.

In their book Radical Ecstasy, Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy talk about how ecstatic experiences dissolve the boundaries that define our sense of ourselves as existing separate from other people, from the rest of the world, and from the Divine.

They cite Merriam-Webster’s definition of ecstasy as “a state of being beyond reason and self-control” -- reminding us that this experience isn’t always a “feel good” experience, even though “bliss” may be our primary connotation of “ecstasy.”

I love that the Song of Songs puts forward this so very embodied love as a good good thing -- and I also appreciate that it acknowledges the real complexities of such passion, including the not so nice parts.

As we move on in the book, the Shulamite woman praises her beloved again -- this time from more of a distance ... watching him traversing the mountains; being entreated by him from outside the wall, outside the windows, outside the lattice. He entreats her: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away." (Song of Songs 2:10b)

But then she does, and she cannot find him.

"Upon my bed at night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer." (Song of Songs 3:1)

She goes out into the city, is encountered by the sentinels, but then,
Scarcely had I passed them, when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go until I brought him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the wild does: do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready!
(Song of Songs 3:4-5)
And for the second time she adjures the daughters of Jerusalem, "Do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready!"

A love like this, it will challenge you, it will pull you out of your comfort zone, put you in conflict with those who have power over you… Do not get yourself involved in a love like this unless you are ready and prepared for what lies ahead of you. And the Shulamite woman certainly has that strength and determination -- “I held him, and would not let him go until I brought him into my mother’s house.” Her brothers may be angry with her, but she is determined to bring her beloved home with her -- and she will not lose him again.

As the book continues, we continue to telescope temporally and/or geographically -- once again the Shulamite woman beholds her beloved approaching and praises him to excess. He responds with erotic invitations ("I come to my garden, my sister, my bride" [Song of Songs 5:1a]), and they approach consummation ("My beloved thrust his hand into the opening, and my inmost being yearned for him. I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh" [Song of Songs 5:4-5a]) but this consummation is not to be -- "I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned and was gone." (Song of Songs 5:6a)

This time she adjures the daughters of Jerusalem, "If you find my beloved, tell him this: I am faint with love." (Song of Songs 5:8)

At this the daughters of Jerusalem respond for the first time -- "What is your beloved more than another beloved, O fairest among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you thus adjure us?" (Song of Songs 5:9)

Despite all the praises they have been listening to from the Shulamite woman about her beloved, at this moment they ask, "What's the big deal about this guy?"

Christopher King plays up the Shulamite's outsider status versus the insider status of the daughters of Jerusalem, including the way this is negatively valenced re: her physical appearance -- but here they call her, "O fairest among women."

I hear them sympathetically here -- "Listen, girl, you are AWESOME. This guy's being a big tease and here you are falling for it. WHAT is so great about this guy that you are so focused on him, so determined to win him back? You could do better, girl!"

She praises his physical attributes and concludes, "His speech is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem." (Song of Songs 5:16)

Given the emphasis on the beloved’s physical beauty, I am struck by the line, “This is my beloved and this is my friend.” The contemporary ideal of romantic love between equals, soulmates and all that, isn’t something we encounter much in the Bible, but here it is.

I am unconvinced of her beloved's merits, but the daughters of Jerusalem, whether they buy it or whether they merely recognize that argument is futile, agree to help -- "Where has your beloved gone, O fairest among women? Which way has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you?" (Song of Songs 6:1)

She tells them, and in this way she seems almost to narratively enact the meeting -- she tells them where he has gone, and then we switch to praises directed at her, voiced by her beloved. Initially I actually thought that SHE was speaking to her beloved -- "terrible as an army with banners. Turn away your eyes from me, for they overwhelm me!" (Song of Songs 6:4) This is not language we expect from a man to a woman, certainly not in Biblical texts.

“I went down to the nut orchard, to look at the blossoms of the valley, to see whether the vines had budded, whether the pomegranates were in bloom. Before I was aware, my fancy set me in a chariot beside my prince.” (Song of Songs 6:11-12)

And again we are regaled by praises. And once again the Shulamite woman expresses her desire to bring her beloved home with her:
O that you were like a brother to me, who nursed at my mother’s breast! If I met you outside, I would kiss you, and no one would despise me. I would lead you and bring you into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of the one who bore me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the juice of my pomegranates. O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me! I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready!
(Song of Songs 8:1-4)
This logistical mapping of where she would like her beloved’s hands echoes the early section where she is faint with love --
He brought me to the banqueting house, and his intention toward me was love. Sustain me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am faint with love. O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me! I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the wild does: do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready!
(Song of Songs 2:4-7)
This time we have combined the risk of rejection, her desire that their relationship be accepted, with her yearning desire for physical intimacy with him. “Do not stir or awaken love until it is ready” -- be prepared for all the yearning you will experience, yearning for things to be different than they are.

But there is a firmness underneath this yearning, grounding it and sustaining the one who is yearning.
Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of their house, it would be utterly scorned.
(Song of Songs 8:6-7)
For all the risk we have encountered in this story -- risk from others and even risk from the beloved -- we are still reminded of the fierce strength of love.

The book continues, with the Shulamite woman’s brothers re-entering the conversation, and the book ends with the lovers again not yet reunited --
O you who dwell in the gardens, my companions are listening for your voice; let me hear it. Make haste, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag upon the mountains of spices!
(Song of Songs 8:13-14)
But for me, that passage is the culmination of the text -- “love is as strong as death.” Which I can’t say without adding that love is STRONGER than death -- God who is Love, incarnated as Jesus the Christ, triumphed over death. The love that God has for us, like the love between the Shulamite woman and her beloved, makes us faint sometimes, frightens us sometimes, but it always endures, bidding us out of our comfortable places -- and so perhaps the ending of the Song of Songs isn’t so off-putting after all … that promise of union that is both already and not yet.

Amen.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

[32] of joys and covenants [Christmas 1B, CWM]

First Sunday after Christmas Day

Psalm 148
Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Galatians 4:4-7
Luke 2:22-40


[This is the text I preached off of. My delivery was more colloquial.]

of joys and covenants

Today, the 8th Day of Christmas, many Christian churches celebrate the circumcision of Baby Jesus. I was telling my friend Shoshana that I’d agreed to preach on this Sunday. Being Jewish, she talked about circumcision as covenant and various other covenant moments in the Old Testament. I said that while “circumcision” is a catchy hook into talking about the day, the Gospel reading is mostly about Simeon and Anna’s songs of praise -- and that the other assigned readings for the day follow this praise theme. She said she would still talk about covenant.

I didn’t really have a theme in mind, and this one grew on me as I thought through the lectionary. (Yes, I do like having other people write my sermons for me.) I realized belatedly that of the 3 lectionary options for today, I’d actually picked the one that’s for the first Sunday after Christmas Day, whose Gospel reading begins the verse AFTER Jesus’ circumcision.

Mary and Joseph have shown up at the Temple to offer purification offering, and to present Mary’s firstborn to God. These commandments hearken back to Leviticus and Exodus, the Torah, the Five Books of Moses, the Written Law. While the Law often gets something of a bad rap in Christianity, the Torah was a good gift from God, a guide for the people as to how to be in right relationship with God.

And this theme of covenant relationship continues in today’s texts.

Simeon was promised, “You will not see death before you have seen God’s Messiah,” and guided by the Holy Spirit, Simeon recognizes in this newborn baby, the Messiah, the one who will not only be for the glory of God’s people Israel but also a light for revelation to the Gentiles -- salvation prepared in the presence of ALL peoples.

Simeon is hearkening back to Isaic prophecies. Thursday’s assigned lectionary speaks to us from Isaiah: “It is not enough [...] to restore the tribes of Leah, Rachel, and Jacob and bring back the survivors of Israel; I will make you the light of the nations, so that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” (Isaiah 49:6).

God’s salvation is not for a select few but is for the whole of creation. And this is a beautiful, wonderful, celebrative thing. Our reading from Isaiah introduces the language of marriage, but it stops before my favorite part:
Never again will you be called Forsaken. Never again will you be called Desolate. But you will be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land will be called Married. For HaShem will take delight in you and your land will be joined with God in wedlock. For just as a young couple marry, you will be forever married to this land; as a newly married couple rejoice over each other, so will HaShem rejoice over you. (Isaiah 62:4-5)
God will rejoice over this new relationship with us.

This helps me make some peace with the Galatians text. I’m really uncomfortable with the idea that we are adopted as God’s children through Christ -- because we are ALREADY God’s beloved children by virtue of our existence.

But the Isaic texts remind me that pre-existing relationships can change. People who are to be married are still in love and committed prior to the actual ceremony -- but the ceremony change something about that relationship, both for themselves and for their community. There’s an intensifying that happens there.

And that’s sort of like what happens with the Incarnation -- though in some ways it’s as much an expansion as it is an intensification. For a long time, the Israelites were God’s chosen people. And that doesn’t always work out well -- Israel frequently lusts after foreign gods, upset that HaShem, the supposed God of Israel, isn’t giving her what she wants. This comes up a lot in the prophets -- HaShem calling Israel a whore but saying, “I still love you.” So Promise #1 is that HaShem and Israel will finally work out their issues and get married. Promise #2 is that transformation and right relationship will extend not just to Israel but to the whole world. Yes, God is singing the “Boom De Yada” song -- “I love the whole world...”

Through Christ, we are adopted into God’s family in a way that is somehow different than we were before -- as children; and if children, heirs; heirs to a promise.

So what do we do with this promise we have inherited?

As Jeff Mansfield (Associate Pastor at First Church Somerville) pointed out, now that the anticipatory season of Advent is fulfilled, we are faced with the newness of the Christ child, so what are we going to do with it?

[This is where my text ended. I extemp'ed about being bearers of that already-and-not-yet salvation and reconiliation, about remembering that this is not just between us and God in an individually relational way but is about the whole world.]

***

Editing the NRSV was fairly straightforward (initially I de-gendered Simeon, but then that got too clunky, so I let the masculine pronouns recur partway through; and Anna remained female the whole time), but I really liked what I did with Psalm 148 (adapted from the NRSV, The Inclusive Bible, and Nan Merrill’s Psalms for Praying) and wanted to share:
1 Alleluia! Praise God! Give praise from the heavens, and from all the ends of the earth!
2 Give praise all you angels; give praise all you hosts!
3 Give praise, sun and moon; give praise, all you shining stars!
4 Give praise, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens!
5 Let them praise the Name of Love, by whose Word they were created.
6 God established the enduring pattern of Creation.
7 Give praise from the earth, you sea monsters and all deeps,
8 Fire and hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling God’s Word!
9 Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars!
10 Wild and domesticated animals, creeping things and flying birds!
11 Rulers of the earth and all peoples, leaders of all nations, all the judges of the world!
12 Young people of all genders, old and young together!
13 Let them praise the Name of Love, which Name alone is exalted; whose majesty transcends heaven and earth,
14 And who has raised up a horn for God's people, praise for the faithful, the children of Israel, the people dear to God. Alleluia!