Archive for the 'Bible' Category

Seven Pounds: an assault on the foundation of Judeo-Christian ethic

December 17, 2008

Last night I was fortunate enough to attend a sneak preview of the new Will Smith film Seven Pounds (trailers).  Going into it, I was intrigued by what I had seen thus far. The ad campaign has been pretty effective, engendering a palpable curiosity in the viewer: “What the heck is this movie about?”

Part of that curiosity is directly a result of Will Smith’s impressive turn as a mysterious figure engaged in some sort of enterprise involving several strangers; whether this enterprise is nefarious or benevolent in nature remains largely a mystery even until the end of the film’s first act.

It’s hard to address my reaction to the film without discussing specifics as I will do below; however for those of you who don’t like to know the details of a film, I’ll do a quick spoiler-free recounting.  This movie is, to put it bluntly, morally repugnant. It is a sneak attack on the very foundations that lead to the ascendency of western society, and sadly many people are going to fall for it. If you are a church attender, you will most likely hear Smith’s character’s actions compared to the sacrificial actions of Jesus Christ. Don’t buy into it. Go into this movie with the knowledge that it puts a very attractive face on an insidious worldview. This deceptive message, prevalent in our culture, elevates individually perceived reality as dictated by emotion coupled with (an admittedly admirable) concern for life above any transcendant principles of ethical behavior.

The central question of the film: is Will Smith’s character a hero, or a fool? To answer that, I will delve into spoilers. Don’t read further if you don’t like them.

The movie is basically as follows. Will Smith’s remorse following his negiligence in an auto accident (in which 7 people including his wife die) leads him to decide that he is going to kill himself and donate all his organs, money, house, etc to 7 people to ostensibly make up for his mistake. Also important to note is that he is in a lot of emotional pain because of what happened, and this is made clear by Smith’s look-at-me-I-am-in-pain face (of which I grew somewhat tired of within the first 30 minutes). However he doesn’t want to help just anyone, but wants to choose those “who deserve it- good people.” Although he does just want to end it all, his desire is depicted as a noble one because he wants his death to mean something. In the process of picking the person who he wants to receive his heart (he is a very rare  blood type), he ends up falling in love with a dying girl. Faced with the choice between living a short time with his new love (who is doomed to die) or allowing her to live on by sacrificing himself, he chooses the latter, and in the process also donates his corneas to a blind Woody Harrilson (who by the way probably delivered the best performance in the film), his beach house to a battered Hispanic woman and her children, bone marrow to a child, kidney(s?) to a token old white guy, pieces of his lung to his brother… the list probably goes on.

I hated it. And here is why. As I said above, the message is not merely morally questionable but a morally repugnant one: disdain for one’s own life is called virtue, and death is called life.  His ultimate selfish act of suicide, we are emotionally manipulated to believe, was a heroic act because of what he did with all his worldly possessions (his body etc). This is bullshit. To understand why suicide is so morally reprehensible in almost every situation (I withhold judgment for people in egregious physical pain that can’t be alleviated- I don’t know what I’d do in that eventuality), I defer to GK Chesterton in the chapter “The Flag of the World” of the book Orthodoxy:

Not only is suicide a sin, it is the sin. It is the ultimate and absolute evil, the refusal to take an interest in existence; the refusal to take the oath of loyalty to life. The man who kills a man, kills a man. The man who kills himself, kills all men; as far as he is concerned he wipes out the world. His act is worse (symbolically considered) than any rape or dynamite outrage. For it destroys all buildings: it insults all women. The thief is satisfied with diamonds; but the suicide is not: that is his crime. He cannot be bribed, even by the blazing stones of the Celestial City. The thief compliments the things he steals, if not the owner of them. But the suicide insults everything on earth by not stealing it. He defiles every flower by refusing to live for its sake. There is not a tiny creature in the cosmos at whom his death is not a sneer. When a man hangs himself on a tree, the leaves might fall off in anger and the birds fly away in fury: for each has received a personal affront. Of course there may be pathetic emotional excuses for the act. There often are for rape, and there almost always are for dynamite. But if it comes to clear ideas and the intelligent meaning of things, then there is much more rational and philosophic truth in the burial at the cross-roads and the stake driven through the body, than in Mr. Archer’s suicidal automatic machines. There is a meaning in burying the suicide apart. The man’s crime is different from other crimes — for it makes even crimes impossible.

Smith’s act is not heroic, it is cowardice. He is not unusually noble; he is atypically selfish. His pain-face makes something very clear: the real reason he is killing himself is because he doesn’t want to live.  All of the other things he does in addition to taking his own life? Semantics. Rationalization. What about all the pain his suicide inflicts upon the rest of his family, and on the woman who he supposedly loves? What about all the other good he could have accomplished over the course of a long life? What about the fact that life is itself a gift given by God that is not ours to throw away? No, ultimately Smith is elevating his perception of reality through his emotional pain above any claims the world (his family, God, society) has on him, and as Chesterton makes clear, this is in a very real sense, a purely evil act.

Now you will hear Smith’s character compared to Jesus- I guarantee it. But
this is a lie. He was not a martyr, he is a suicide. Jesus was not a suicide, and the idea that he was a suicide is an ancient, thoroughly refuted heresy. As Chesterton goes on to note in his book, the line between suicide and martyrdom is one of the most important distinctions to make in Judeo-Christian ethic, and in fact in many ways it is THE defining difference between the moral codes of Christendom and all other moral frameworks, i.e., fraudulent moral systems. This movie is trying to blur those lines. I’m not falling for it, and neither should you.

A discussion of the Christological hymn of Philippians 2

October 13, 2008

Continuing my habit of posting whatever I have to write for my New Testament as literature class.

The prompt:

One of the most important features of Paul’s letter to the Philippians is the christological hymn, located in Philippians 2:5-11. Raymond Brown dedicates a sizable section of his chapter on this hymn, underscoring its genre, features, and importance in early Christianity.

One of the logical conclusions to make about the hymn is that it acts as a major blow to the argument that Paul is literally the first Christian, or that he invented christology wholesale out of thin air.  In your conversation paper, consider Paul’s letter in the context of early Christianity and what we’ve already read of the gospels.

How do we know that this is a hymn? What do we know about its authorship?
What is the significance of this hymn? What doctrines are contained within it?
What does Paul’s inclusion of this hymn possibly tell us about early Christian doctrine?
Is it possible that Paul wrote this hymn? If he did write it, what could that mean?

The response:

The Christological hymn found in Paul’s Epistle to the Philippians (2:6-11) plays an important role in placing the high Christological views found therein- i.e. “Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name..”- into a historical context that is difficult to establish elsewhere. In considering this matter it would be instructive to investigate the hymn’s possible connections with the account of the establishment of the Philippian church found in Acts, and we will see that much can be learned about the significance of the hymn and the doctrines within.

The Acts narrative indicates that the Philippian Church began with the conversion of Lydia in chapter 16. Sometime after this conversion of her and her family, Paul and Silas are arrested for disruption of the peace because they cast out a demon from a slave girl who “had a spirit of divination”. In the next scene, perhaps one of the most famous of Acts, Paul and Silas are “singing hymns to God” while the other prisoners listen. Suddenly there is an earthquake, their chains fall off, and the jailer is converted along with his entire family.

Although the genre of the Acts narrative as a recounting of history for the purpose of advancing a theological agenda implies it should not be considered historically unassailable, it is clear from the unified attestations of Acts and Philippians that there was a church established by Paul in Philippi, and that the timeline regarding the progression of Paul’s journey is at least accurate to some unknown degree of detail; for example, Paul seems to have gone on to Thessalonica directly after his release from prison (Acts 17:1, Phil 4:15-16). For this reason, it is not wholly ludicrous to give some degree of credence to the details surrounding the Philippian Church’s establishment. There were, then, at least two pieces to the Philippian church: the Lydia group, and the jailer group. We know that Paul and Silas spent a moderate amount of time among Lydia and her family, but the jailer’s wing was established in quite a hurry over the course of an evening; the very next morning, we are told that Paul and Silas are released, after which they drop in to say their farewells to Lydia, and then depart. It is interesting to note that, although the jailer was asleep when the earthquake occurred, Paul and Silas were singing hymns. This is the only mention of an opportunity for the jailer to have heard the word of the gospel, and presumably, they were singing hymns about Christ which they had just taught to the Lydian wing. Could they have been singing the very hymn that we find in Philppians 2:6-11? We cannot know that for certain, but it is clear that hymn singing was at least part of the establishment of the Philippian congregation. It would make no sense for Paul to quote a hymn in his letter that the Philippians would not recognize; we can imagine it to be one with which they are familiar. Since Paul seems to have spent only a moderate amount of time in Philippi, and specifically with the jailer wing, this hymn must have been one of the tools with which Paul taught to them the high Christological truths; after all, at this early date there was little in the way of New Testament scripture (with the possible exception of Mark and a Q gospel). Hymns would have played an important part in establishing good doctrine among the churches.

This has interesting implications for the history of Christological doctrine; assuming the ideas above are reasonably construed, there is therefore good reason to think that the truth-claims found within the hymn are at least as old as the Philippian church. The hymn teaches that Christ was “in very form God”; some translations render the Greek word morphe to mean “nature” instead of “form”. This is important to note, since it has large bearing on the meaning of the hymn: is it saying that Christ was in God’s image in the same way that man was created in God’s image, or is it establishing a high Christology where Jesus is, like God, uncreated? A New Testament critic cannot say for sure without more information about the Greek meaning. However, if it is teaching a high Christology, an even more interesting question becomes whether or not Paul wrote the hymn himself, but unfortunately I cannot see how one can confidently know the answer one way or the other apart from the tenuous practice of stylistic analysis. It is difficult- perhaps impossible- to ascertain authorship of musical verse when we do not even have any other concrete examples to which we can compare it. As much as I’d like to aver that this hymn provides compelling evidence that the ideas of high Christological prominence were not distinctly Pauline inventions, I cannot make a compelling case for either eventuality. However, it is clear that if a good case can be made that Paul did not write the hymn himself, combined with the knowledge that the hymn comes probably earlier than almost anything else we have surrounding the doctrinal development of the first century church, this would then effectively obviate what Raymond Brown refers to as the “crude” ideas of modern critics who assert that Paul- not Jesus (or Peter or anyone else) - is literally the founder of the Christian religion.

Gnosticism and the Gospel of John

September 29, 2008

As I have said, I am posting anything I happen to write for my New Testament literature class, so here’s another short essay.  I expect this to be the last one on the gospels as we will soon be diving into the Pauline writings.

Enjoy the break from political and economic rants.

The Gospel of John is called the “spiritual gospel”, and a difference is maintained among scholars between it and the synoptic writings. The spiritual nature of the book lends itself to a variety of interpretation, and one of these historical interpretations has been from the standpoint of Gnostic thought and theology. There are many aspects in which John can be seen as a Gnostic book, however at the same time John is very hostile to Gnosticism in some ways as well.

The fundamentals of Gnostic thought rest on the basis that the material world inhabited by humanity is, by definition, a dark place, and the spiritual world is a place of light. Knowledge of this spiritual light through the overcoming of the material world- an idea from which the word Gnosticism derives- becomes the goal of existence. This understanding of the nature of reality can be stipulated from the mainstream of Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or other monotheistic theologies; whereas in these traditions the material world was at some point “very good”- or at the very least, amoral- a Gnostic understanding of the world avers that the material world is either a product of error or evil in itself, not created directly by the light or “God”. The world was either crafted by the light force non-ex nihilo, i.e. out of materialistic parts that happened to be lying about, or the monadic deity had no involvement in the material creation whatsoever. Instead, the world is a product of a second, lesser deity known as the demiurge.

The opening of the Gospel of John perhaps provides the seminal example of the ability for both a Gnostic and a non- Gnostic (such unfortunate alliteration) interpretation of a segment. The passage discusses an understanding of God as the light, and of Jesus as the Word having its origination from the light, and “the light shines in the darkness, but the darkness did not overcome it.” What clearer picture of spiritualized knowledge- the very basis Gnostic thought- could be painted than to describe Jesus as “the Word”, or logos (in Greek thought, that which links the human mind to the mind of God)? Not only this, but the darkness of the world is separate from the light, and in various translations is capable of neither overcoming nor understanding the light. Indeed, John continues to tell that the mission of the light itself is to “enlighten the world”, and here we find the Gnostic idea of knowledge coming only from an experience with the source of the light. The light was coming specifically to interact with the world and impart knowledge. At the same time however, in this same passage there are explicit contradictions to Gnostic rumination, beginning with the statement that “All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being,” and continuing with “the Word became flesh.” This is clearly an assault on one of the tenants of Gnostic theology, and there may be no more effective way to state for the reader, “the material world was not created by a demiurge; the material world has the logos at the impetus of its existence. Even the Word itself did not find material existence so abhorrent as to abstain from coming to live as part of it.” Continuing on, John the Baptist is sent to “testify to the light, so that all men might believe through him.” Indeed, this statement constitutes another shot across the bow of Gnosticism in that knowledge of the light is specifically delineated to be based not on experiential knowledge, but propositional knowledge. The only way to learn about truth, from a Gnostic perspective, is not to be told about it from another party- as John himself is doing, and as his character John the Baptizer is doing- but through experiential, participatory knowledge. Indeed, if John were a character of Gnostic provenance, he would not have said- TWICE- “I myself did not know him” (1:31, 33), and “testified that this is the Son of God”. He would have invited others to come experience the Son of God for themselves.

Continuing on from the introduction, there is no shortage of other places for Gnostics to find fertile ground for their beliefs to take root. Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, in which Jesus instructs him to become born of the spirit as opposed to being born of the flesh, is an example. Jesus likes to say about himself that he is not of this world, but is “from above”, and the “light of the world”- leading the reader to surmise that he is drawing an unfavorable comparison between material and spiritual existence. In addition, the wording of remaining in him, and Jesus prayer that all of his followers be one together (17:22) indicates a very spiritualized understanding of the mechanics of Christian practice. However, there is one glaringly obvious point with which the Gnostic reader of John much struggle; the bodily resurrection of Jesus in the Gospel of John seemingly throws a wrench into the idea that the goal of religious life ought to be to overcome and eventually leave behind the material, which is by definition a dirty and undesirable state for the light to debase itself. Already mentioned before was the untenable notion (from a Gnostic perspective) that the eternal logos may debase itself to a fleshly existence, yet this might be forgivable if the story culminated in a throwing off of that existence as an example to humanity; but the Gospel concludes with the exact opposite event. The tomb, we are told, is empty; to underscore the fact that Jesus’ resurrected body is fleshly in nature, Thomas is told “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side”, and again we find the evangelist actively engaged in fending off the roots of Gnostic thought.

The Healing of the Paralytic

September 19, 2008

I’m continuing to post anything I write for my New Testament class at UK- just for a change of pace on the old blog.  I do way too much politics and Amy Adams on here anyway.

And so, my latest creation.   It’s quite a bit longer assignemen than the first one- enjoy.  Oh and for the record, I hate the closing paragraph.

The episode known as “The Healing of the Paralytic” depicted in the Synoptic Gospels reveals much about the Christology of the Gospel writers, including their truth-claims regarding the purpose of Jesus’ ministry, his possession and wielding of spiritual as well as earthly authority, and their approaches to illustrating these truth-claims. Indeed, modern scholarly discussion regarding these unique literary works, which tends to accentuate the differences between the Gospels, finds fertile ground within the notably contrasting contexts of the accounts, and all of the generally accepted assumptions regarding the uniqueness of each evangelist’s Christological paradigm are demonstrable.

Disregarding certain details, the pericope unfolds in each of the Gospel accounts essentially the same way. Jesus is recently come “to his own town” (Mat 9:1) of Capernaum, and some persons bring to him a “paralyzed man on a bed” (Luk 5:18). Interestingly, Jesus observes the faith not of the man but of the man’s friends, and proceeds to tell the man “your sins are forgiven” (Mar 2:5). The Jewish leaders who are present believe Jesus’ words are blasphemous because only God can forgive sins, but Jesus is not done. Having “perceived” their thoughts, Jesus challenges them, saying the exact same words in all three accounts, “Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins-”. Jesus dramatically turns to the paralytic and continues by telling the paralytic to get up and go home, and oh by the way- be sure to take your mat with you. The people gathered around praise God for this miracle, and the scene comes to a close.

Mark’s Gospel seems to have been written to chronicle or perhaps even define an accepted Christology of the first century Christian community, and its intention is therefore theological rather than historical biography. Mark makes claims about Jesus’ nature and ministry that are still being defined in this early sequence of his narrative, as is the general outline of Jesus’ characteristics. Unmentioned in the other Gospels is the fact that Jesus was “at home” (2:1), i.e. in his house, and this lends weight to the view that the Markan Christ is one who is a private person, or at least an unwilling public figure, especially at this point in his life. Also lending weight to a private Jesus is the episode immediately preceding this occurrence, where Jesus tells the recently healed leper to “say nothing to anyone” (1:44). Of course the leper ignores these instructions and tells everyone, causing Jesus to move out into the country to avoid the crowd (1:45). For Mark, Jesus is the good news (1:1), and so when he does return home, there were so many people gathered that the paralytic’s friends can’t even approach the front door of the house. As the episode occurs early in his ministry, Mark defines the formula by which Jesus is operating as well as continues the announcement Jesus’ period of public ministry which began just a few paragraphs before. Mark defines him here as a person who will be in conflict with the Jewish authorities, and unlike them, one who possesses true authority both earthly and spiritual. He claims that Jesus is able to forgive sins, and because this utterance of Jesus to the paralytic- “your sins are forgiven” (2:5) - has precedence over the healing itself, this spiritual, invisible authority supersedes the earthly healing. In fact, Jesus indicates that the healing itself is only done in order to demonstrate the spiritual authority he is claiming to possess, and not as an end in and of itself (2:10). Jesus has only done minimal preaching up to this point (1:38) and only in Galilee, and so this short narrative serves to give the reader a window into what the message has been. Mark’s Kingdom of God is first and foremost an invisible, spiritual one whose earthly realities are only a result of spiritual ones. Jesus’ ministry, therefore, even from the very beginning, turns about the idea that Jesus is not simply an earth-bound superhuman; this man is no Greek hero going about the countryside doing miraculous deeds and gaining renown. He is not even simply another Jewish prophet. Jesus calls himself the ‘Son of Man’ for the first time here (2:10), comparing himself to Adam. Mark is claiming precedence for Jesus in what one might call the Jewish pantheon of ancient heroes, saying that the good news- which is Jesus himself- marks a new, spiritual beginning. It is an invisible reality that has come down to men from heaven, and although the people are only able to perceive the earthly effects of this new Kingdom of God, they still “glorified God, saying, ‘We have never seen anything like this!’” (2:12).

The Healing of the Paralytic is symptomatic of the existence of the Synoptic Problem (Brown 111) present in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The reasoning goes that much of the material in these three Gospels- the pericope at hand being a conspicuous example- is too similar in content, style, and even wording to have been independently generated or orally transmitted. The above recounting of the story eliminates a number of differing details, but the majority accepted explanation of the striking similarity is that Mark was used as a source by Luke and by Matthew, and so the differences between Matthew and Mark and between Luke and Mark occasion special attention.

Matthew’s account of the event differs contextually from both the Markan and Lukan depictions, but these differences are at least partially not what one might expect. Matthew’s twenty seven chapters of content come close to doubling the mere sixteen chapters of Mark, yet in this particular instance, it is Matthew who is found wanting in detail and length. Why did Matthew leave out certain compelling details surrounding this miracle? Why did he remove the suffocating crowd, the inside environs, and the lowering of the mat through the roof (9:2)? Perhaps the evangelist simply has little taste for repertory, but it may also be that this section of text- falling between the Sermon on the Mount in chapters 5-7 and the sayings and parables beginning in chapter 10- is paced with the purpose of moving the story along as quick as possible. Matthew’s Christology has been described by some as being centered around the “Jewishness of Jesus”, and so it may be accurate to say that Matthew wants to move the story along to the parables and then on to Jerusalem, the center of the Jewish world. The small snapshots of action occurring in Galilee throughout Matthew are only chosen for inclusion in as much as they support Matthew’s thesis: Jesus is “the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (1:1). Another interesting departure from Mark is Jesus’ words to the scribes, who are thinking to themselves “This man is blaspheming” (9:3). In Mark (as well as Luke), Jesus is not immediately confrontational and simply asks “Why do you raise such questions in your hearts?” (2:8). However, Matthew uses the much more hostile “Why do you think evil in your hearts?” (9:4). This hostility may seem to conflict with Matthew’s Hebrew-favoring theme; after all, the scribes represent the greatest and most educated Jewish scholars of the day. However, the import of Jesus standing up to these learned scribes in keeping with the consciousness of Jesus’ Jewish roots is immense. While in Mark Jesus has the precedence of Adam, the founder of humanity, Matthew’s Jesus has an authority reminiscent of Moses, the giver of the Torah. Along the same lines, another conspicuous departure from the Markan text becomes important to consider. Whereas as the Markan crowd is simply amazed by what they saw occur (Mar 2:12) and glorify God on this basis, the Mattean crowd’s reason for glorifying God is slightly different: “they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings” (9:8). This addition on the part of Matthew reinforces the sort of new Moses Christology therein by depicting Christ’s authority as something given to him by God, much the same as all the prophets before him in what we may again refer to as the Jewish pantheon has received their authority to work miracles, beginning with Moses.

The third Evangelion professes from the outset to be an “orderly account” (1:3) of the Christ narrative, and so special attention should indeed be given to the order and context in which the Healing of the Paralytic occurs in the Gospel of Luke. Because the early sequence of events depicted in Luke does not differ greatly from that recounted in Mark, some of the same observations can be made. The episode is again early in his ministry, helping to define a burgeoning conflict with the Jewish authorities as a result of Jesus’ own claims to authority, such as the right to forgive sins. However, while in Mark there is an obvious focus on the spiritual nature of the Kingdom of God, and on Jesus’ spiritual authority, this does not seem to be the whole picture with Luke. A careful reading of the entire Gospel and its sequel, Acts, reveals Luke’s preoccupation with the earthly facets of the message of Christ. There is a focus on leaving behind earthly possessions throughout- although this is admittedly contradicted slightly by Jesus’ imperative “take your bed and go to your home” (5:24); perhaps Jesus wisely understood that no one would want that worn, decrepit mat anyway. Nonetheless, Luke writes his works fully conscious of fitting the narrative of Christ and the church into the context of a universal nature of God’s Kingdom; Luke is, after all, believed to be a gentile, or at least intimately connected with the gentile branch of the church. The only recognizable adjustment Luke makes to the Markan narrative is to stress this Kingdom of God paradigm. Mark simply reports that a large crowd invaded Jesus’ home and made it impossible for the friends of the paralytic to enter, but Luke considers it important to inform us that “they had come from every village of Galilee and Judea and from Jerusalem” (5:17). The universal draw of Christ across the Jewish world is highlighted just enough to give us insight into Luke’s purpose for this depiction: this man Jesus was not just for Capernaum, and not just for Galilee. This theme comes to fruition later when Luke completes his story, and Christ’s message becomes preached throughout the world. The only other notable addition that Luke mentions about Jesus’ miracle is that “the power of the Lord was with him to heal” (5:17). This seems like an obvious statement to make, especially considering what happens just a few short sentences later. However, the similarity of this statement to the one previously referenced in Matthew 9:8, “they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings” (emphasis added), is interesting to note. It may be that both Matthew and Luke, having written some time after Mark, are each attempting in their own way to correct a theological disagreement within the church during the time they are writing. Indeed, it seems just the sort of thing that Luke, a self-described expert on the life of Christ (chapter 1), would do. Had there been a disagreement regarding Christ’s diety? Perhaps Luke (and Matthew as well) is here arguing for a Christology where Jesus’ authority to heal is less inherent to his nature and more derived from God’s power through him. Luke, the writer of Acts, is obviously interested in the idea of God giving power to man in order to do miraculous healings. It may instead be that Luke wants to explain the mechanics behind mere men such as Peter and Paul effecting great miracles such as those done by Jesus of Nazareth. Whatever the reason, it is odd that both Luke and Matthew chose this specific miracle in which to insert a commentary on the theological basis of Christ’s miracles, unless one considers the possibility of another source common to both Luke and Matthew, or the Q- a commonly held hypothesis in New Testament scholarship today. A Q source may have contained a brief explanation of Jesus’ miraculous powers in the context of the paralytic pericope, thereby explaining this commonality between Matthew and Luke. It is impossible to know for sure.

What is possible to know, however, is that even with the differences in theme, focus, and detail among the Synoptic Gospels, the testimony surrounding the Healing of the Paralytic is an important and compelling episode of the Jesus narrative from both a literary and devotional perspective. The accounts are harmonious enough that it would be a stretch, even considering the many contrasts recounted here, to search for disagreement among the evangelists on this subject. Harmony, not dissonance, is the most obvious feature. Even so, it is amazing to observe the degree to which the Gospel writers’ themes and intentions permeate their pericopes about a short episode obtained from essentially the same source(s), containing essentially the same language. It is probably for this reason that the Gospels of the New Testament stand alone in literature as a unique genre, the fathoms of which will continue to be explored for centuries to come.

The criticism of Jesus

September 3, 2008

This semester I am taking a class called ‘The New Testament as literature’, and part of the requirements of this class involve writing blog posts on assigned topics every other week.

Since I tend to skew to the political end of things when posting on this blog, I thought it might make for some interesting variety to include these posts on the New Testament here.  So without further ado, below are the prompt and my 600 word response:

The Prompt

In his book Jesus and Yahweh: The Names Divine (a chapter of which we’ll read later in the course), Harold Bloom, a well-known literary critic, writes about the portrayal of Jesus in the Gospel of Mark, especially in comparison to the other Gospels. He writes:

“The Marcan Jesus is a master of silences, which we are invited to understand, if we can. This is not the Christ preached by Paul, or the Son of God presented by Matthew and Luke, let alone the cosmic Christ of the Gospel of John. Whoever composed Mark is a genius still too original for us to absorb, though a weird Gospel might seem an oxymoron.”

Mark is indeed a weird Gospel, probably because it confounds many preconceptions we might have about Jesus. The question I want you to write about relates to question number two on pp. 165 of Brown’s Introduction. Brown writes that “a number of scholars interpret [Mark] as an attack upon the apostles to the point that after their failure in the passion they are never redeemed” (165). Without a doubt, Jesus appears to be a mysterious and cagey guy who really rips into people who “don’t get it.” But, as Brown asks, isn’t the apostles’ bumbling just something that’s common to the human condition?

  • Where are some places in Mark where Jesus appears to be critical of those who just don’t understand?

  • What exactly don’t the apostles (and the readers) understand in Mark’s Gospel?
    Who does understand in the Gospel?
  • In what sense does Jesus develop as a literary character in the Gospel of Mark? That is, how do his personal traits shine through?

The Response

The richness of the character of Jesus Christ as presented in the four Gospels of the New Testament challenges the reader to plumb the depths of his own humanity. One of the oft overlooked traits of Christ’s character is his tendency toward criticism of humanity, examples of which may be found in Mark. In chapter 3 Jesus “called to Him those whom He wanted,” and the reader might take this action by Jesus as a confirmation that these twelve men- who indeed become known as The Twelve- are representative sample of the types of individuals Jesus “wants”. It is encouraging to recall, then, that as caustic as Jesus’ words to these men and others may be at times throughout Mark’s narrative, it was He who chose them. However, much like a demanding father or unsatisfied overseer, Jesus is also not satisfied with leaving His followers in the state which He finds them; through His criticism and His example, He makes it clear that humanity is an obstacle to be conquered.

After His bodily resurrection Jesus appears to many, but even after these people come to the disciples to inform them of this miracle, they do not believe it. Coming to them Himself, He “upbraided them for their lack of faith and stubbornness, because they had not believed…” What had they not believed? Jesus barks reprobation because He had told them on several occasions prior to the event that he would be killed and rise again after three days. Therefore His censure is not for disbelief of the eyewitnesses per se, but for their disbelief of the words He had spoken to them. This is the core of our humanity which Jesus consistently demands that His followers overcome throughout Mark : a disbelief in Jesus Himself, and His authority. In one instance (chapter 12), Jesus denounces the scribes because of their disbelieving hearts coupled with a concern only for outer appearances. This humanly disbelief, also called pride, blocks the disciples (and by extension the reader) from understanding the depths of Jesus’ teachings, especially in the parables. Jesus seems to be teaching that understanding can only come after belief in Him and His authority are achieved. And he does not make this belief a casual or easy thing for the disciples; one might compare predicting the demolition of Herod’s Temple, for example, with the destruction of the United States Capitol today.

The key take away concept that Jesus desires to pound into the skulls of His followers, the scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, and perhaps even a reader of His teachings today, perhaps culminates in Jesus’ favorite title for himself in this Gospel: The Son of Man. Jesus even claims that someday, we will “The Son of Man coming on the clouds”, and will judge the living and the dead. It seems that not only is this belief in Jesus’ authority the key blockage to understanding His teaching, it is the central teaching of His ministry. It is because of His authority that we are to love our neighbor, and it is this role as the authoritative Son of Man which Jesus’ character grows into throughout the Gospel of Mark. The disciples and all of the people Jesus spoke to were perhaps at a disadvantage, not having the whole picture of the role of Savior and Redeemer which Christ claimed to fulfill for humanity; however, a reader of Mark today, able to sit and read the sixteen chapters in the comfort of his dorm room, has perhaps a greater responsibility than even the disciples did, as we hear booming in our ears Jesus’ words cutting directly into our core: Why do you not believe?

Ah, that’s the question isn’t it?

April 22, 2008

Or rather, these are the questions:

People have been wrestling with these same questions for centuries, and I of course don’t claim to have all the answers. There are volumes of books written about them, and I suppose all explanations would be called “rationalizations” by the maker of the video. After watching it, I suddenly realized that I only had a vague idea of what, exactly, a rationalization is. So I did what all “college educated professionals” (yuk yuk yuk) would do. I looked it up:

ra·tion·al·ize

v. ra·tion·al·ized, ra·tion·al·iz·ing, ra·tion·al·iz·es
v.tr.

1. To make rational.
2. To interpret from a rational standpoint.
3. To devise self-satisfying but incorrect reasons for (one’s behavior): “Many shoppers still rationalize luxury purchases as investments” Janice Castro.

Now it is obvious which definition of rationalize is meant by the video (#3), however let me point out something here which has some bearing on the whole affair: a rationalization is in the eye of the beholder. What is rational to one person may be complete nonsense to another, and the only way to determine whether an argument is a rationalization is to base this determination on the things one already knows to be true, or one’s presuppositions. By labeling all arguments contrary to his assertion that “God is imaginary” as absurd, the video creator is involved in circular reasoning of the following variety: essentially he is saying it is absurd to give an answer to the question “Why won’t God heal amputees?” because all such explanations are rationalizations. He is presupposing that God is imaginary before announcing his conclusion- something a “college educated professional” (translation: if you don’t agree with me you’re stupid) ought to know will lead to error. Observe the following syllogism:

  1. All arguments based on rationalizations lead to invalid conclusions.
  2. Any answer to the question “Why won’t God heal amputees?” other than “God is imaginary” is a rationalization.
  3. Therefore, “God is imaginary” is the only valid conclusion.
This is the logical fallacy of Begging the Question, or assuming your conclusion is true (statement 2) before reaching it (statement 3). In addition, statement #1 is not even true on its face: an argument’s validity is dependent on its truth value, not on from where it came.
Now gentle reader, please humor me and have another look at definition #1 for rationalization. Since we have established that the video maker’s reasoning is decidedly IRRATIONAL, shall we proceed with some rationalization (definition 1!)?
I stated before that rationalization is in the eye of the beholder, and based on presuppositions. I am more than willing to admit my relevant presuppositions before I begin an argument. They are:
  1. There was a man who lived in 1st century Israel called Yeshua (Jesus) who was unjustly executed by the Roman authorities.
  2. There is overwhelming historical evidence that the gospels of the NT ought to be considered as accurate depictions of his life and words.
  3. There is overwhelming evidence even independent of these gospels that he rose from the dead.
I’m not going to bother addressing each of the 10 questions raised in the video. I have my answers of course, I mean every “college educated professional” (blah!) must think about these things. I will point out again that the video maker is not being honest. This is not because he has presuppositions, but because he is pretending that his reasoning is completely independent of these presuppositions.

No, instead I would simply like to ask in regard to those presuppositions: what does the maker of the video do with Jesus? How does a man rising from the dead after 3 days in a grave square with the statement “God is imaginary?” If you can answer me that, then I will tell you why God does not heal amputees (even though he did- lepers and so forth, with fingers missing, etc. In front of people. It was written down. By 4 men, all 4 of whom were tortured over and over because they wouldn’t admit they made it all up).

A quick note about the “college educated professional” stuff: I am convinced nowadays, having spent time among the college educated and the non college educated, that a college education by and large actually has a deleterious effect on one’s center of reasoning.

You believe what you sing

April 13, 2008

After returning home victoriously from a rather diverting game of Puerto Rico followed by an unsuccessful go at Settlers of Catan this evening, I found myself pondering (completely randomly) how much (little?) thought seems to go into the lyrics of modern worship songs sung in churches. I discovered a rather entertaining (to me) blog with lots of good links critiquing such things:

http://badlyricsmakebadtheology.blogspot.com/

I just did a cursory perusal of this one and it doesn’t seem to be done out of a self-important attitude, just a simple desire for music to be grounded in solid theology. However, I will say a couple of the posts seem a little nit-picky even for me:

Why do we “need” Jesus?

We believe in God / and we all need Jesus
‘Cause life is hard / and it might not get easier

I guess I might have trouble meriting heaven by myself, so I need help of some sort from Jesus. In this song, is he my savior, or my example or friend or therapist or life coach or what??

Overly obsessive attention to nuance notwithstanding, I do agree with the author’s general sentiment: that bad lyrics make for bad theology. Another way of putting it might be, similar to “you are what you eat”, you believe what you sing.

Rabbit Trail: Peruse is one of a small list of words in English which has two definitions, one being the opposite of the other. Peruse may mean a detailed investigation, or it can also mean a quick overview. Another word which has two opposite meanings is cleave; two things may cleave together, e.g. a man will cleave to his wife, or you can cleave a melon in half; interestingly enough, one cannot “uncleave” or “decleave” a melon. I’m sure there are other ones but I can’t think of any right now. Anyway.

Regarding bad theology of worship music, one song that has always bugged me to death is this one by Shane Barnard:

You said “Ask and you will receive”
Whatever you need
You Said “Pray and I’ll hear from heaven and I’ll heal your land”

You said, Your glory will fill the earth like water to seas
You said “Lift up your eyes the harvest is here the kingdom is near”

You said ask and I’ll give the nations to you
Oh Lord, thats the cry of my heart
Distant shores and the islands will see your light
as it rises on us

You said “Ask and you will receive”
Whatever you need
You Said “Pray and I’ll hear from heaven and I’ll heal your land”

You said, Your glory will fill the earth
like water to seas
You said “Lift up your eyes the harvest is here the kingdom is near”

You said ask and I’ll give the nations to you
Oh Lord, thats the cry of my heart
Distant shores and the islands will see your light
as it rises on us

Ask and I’ll give the nations to you
Oh Lord, thats the cry of my heart
Distant shores and the islands will see your light
as it rises on earth

This song is a smattering of different scriptures from all over the Bible- some of which aren’t even translated right, being paraphrases- which when put together paint a really distorted picture of God’s work on Earth through the Church, the prospects of success and failure of that work, topped off by a rosy, puppy dogs and ice cream view of the end result of it all. And to make things worse, it completely disregards the intended meaning behind the scriptures it seemingly elucidates.. it is riddle with exegetical error.

For one thing, Habbakuk 2:14 (a notoriously misconstrued verse which in my experience has been purported to mean anything from universalism to predestination to premillenial-dispensationalism) does not have anything to do with the gospel of Jesus Christ going out to all the nations. It’s about a specific incident of God’s wrath poured out on idol worshipers causing the nations around them to repent. Read the context, people:

Hab 2:12 “Woe to him who builds a city with bloodshed And founds a town with violence!
Hab 2:13 “Is it not indeed from the LORD of hosts That peoples toil for fire, And nations grow weary for nothing?
Hab 2:14 “For the earth will be filled With the knowledge of the glory of the LORD, As the waters cover the sea.
Hab 2:15 “Woe to you who make your neighbors drink, Who mix in your venom even to make {them} drunk So as to look on their nakedness!
Hab 2:16 “You will be filled with disgrace rather than honor. Now you yourself drink and expose your {own} nakedness. The cup in the LORD’S right hand will come around to you, And utter disgrace {will come} upon your glory.
Hab 2:17 “For the violence done to Lebanon will overwhelm you, And the devastation of {its} beasts by which you terrified them, Because of human bloodshed and violence done to the land, To the town and all its inhabitants.
Hab 2:18 “What profit is the idol when its maker has carved it, {Or} an image, a teacher of falsehood? For {its} maker trusts in his {own} handiwork When he fashions speechless idols.
Hab 2:19 “Woe to him who says to a {piece of} wood, ‘Awake!’ To a mute stone, ‘Arise!’ {And} that is {your} teacher? Behold, it is overlaid with gold and silver, And there is no breath at all inside it.
Hab 2:20 “But the LORD is in His holy temple. Let all the earth be silent before Him.”

People might argue that this incident did not cause the knowledge of God’s glory to fill the Earth, but this is obviously prophetic/ apocalyptic language, examples of which are used throughout the Bible all the time. This is just one example the ridiculousness of this song. I could go on and on about it. And the sad thing is, I like the song- it’s really not bad as worship music goes- it’s just too bad the lyrics are so odiously distracting.

Is it too much to ask for theologically-sound Christian music to be sung in churches and para-church organizations? Am I being too demanding of our creative sisters and brothers? I don’t want to be a jerk or a party pooper.. really I don’t. I just think that putting what seems like zero effort into the meaning behind music lyrics ought to left to people who have nothing important to sing about.

What really worries me is that this casual attitude seems indicative of the general mode in much of the church toward theology and the study of scripture today- and it doesn’t seem isolated to one generation either. Maybe this has been the case for most of the last 2000 years and I shouldn’t get too hung up on it. But then again a relaxed adherence toward scriptural truth by even small groups of people contributed to the existence of such things as slavery, Nazism, the beginnings of Islam and Mormonism, and gnosticism.

I wouldn’t lay the responsibility of these unfortunate occurrences at the feet of Shane Barnard, Chris Tomlin or Amy Grant though. That’s just over the top. But it’s worth paying attention to such things.

The suckage of life, the universe, and everything.

September 6, 2007

Sometimes, it all just sucks. All of it. And I have thoughts to share about it.

It’s not like you’re cruising down the road from work and suddenly get a flat tire.  Oh no.  Nothing so simple.  It’s more like you are 45 hours into a 72 hour trip across the country, and you suddenly see a mushroom cloud ahead.  You look behind, and there is another one, and another to the north, and yet another to the south.

And then you get a flat tire.

In the blink of an eye, your life is now something else entirely.  There was no time to prepare, and there will be no acclimation period  Although there may have been rumors and hints, there was no credible reason to make machinations.  How could one be expected to think the unthinkable… to anticipate the completely precipitous and unheralded?

And yet, what if you had known?  What difference would it have made, really?  It’s not as if you could have prevented it.  It’s beyond your purview. You might have done little things differently, but overall, it’s best you didn’t know.  At least you were able to enjoy life while it remained so simple.  Ah, and how raucously you might have laughed if someone had referred to your life as simple but 5 minutes previous to the calamity you just experienced!  Even if they had hypothetically described your current predicament to illustrate their point, you would have simply replied, “Yes, you are good at predicting such gloomy things, but come now- there is no reason to be so somber.  There is enough evil in the world as it is.  It’s not necessary to appeal to such absurd, depressing ideas to prove your point!”

The funny thing is, you would have been right to say so.  The great men of faith dealt with life as it came- and not always well.  Elijah asked God to kill him, and Moses asked God to kill everyone but him.  Jonah ran from his calling, and Peter cut off some poor guy’s ear because he misunderstood his; even Jesus asked for his cup to be taken from him.  But none of them sat around thinking about how much worse things could be.  Things are always bad enough as they are.

Sometimes, though, sometimes… it just breaks open and all hell seems to burst forth.  And you have to deal with it.  It’s natural to think, “should I have seen this coming?”, followed by, “blast it all! if i had only known about this, i would have done X or Y…” and finally top it all off with a nice dose of self-pity: “WHY? why me? And why now?”  The way I see it though, it’s no good moping about your predicament.  Oh sure, you could go that route.  Plenty of people have, even great men of faith as I pointed out, but it didn’t change anything at all.  They still had to make a decision.

Do I shrink back and cower in a corner, or do I rise to the occasion?  Do I get busy living, or get busy dying?  Is my faith real, or is it only just so many words, ideas, and verses in an old dog eared book?  The instant disaster strikes, my guts churn, my hands shake, and my knees buckle- and I am drawn toward the lonely road of cowardice and retreat.  I want to hide and find my mommy.

It’s in that moment, though, that I realize: dammit, I am prepared.  What is life but ordeal followed by interlude, sparring round and then restful recovery?  What has it all meant up to this point anyway, if the balance is simply denouement? Is life to be a commodious saunter through green meadows with a blue sky overhead from this point forward?  If it were all that way, even from now on, the best parts would not be as sweet, and the merely agreeable parts would be but a bore.  If I listen to my fear and collapse in despair, all of that time up to the present will have been for nothing- nothing!  What a terrible wasted life, what a fate even worse than finding yourself in the middle of World War III.  I am prepared, and I will choose to act on what I know is true, to act on my faith and not abandon it.  I will choose the hard road, not even because I’m so sure it leads to refuge, but because I know that I am not alone on that path.

I still wonder, though, how does disaster fit in the puzzle? Of course there are going to be trying times for all, but not everyone experiences great evil.  And great evil is relative- it need not be a holocaust.  For some poor fellow who has trouble in close places, the line at the DMV might be disastrous enough. Of course I’m being somewhat flippant, but there are shades of tragedy, and they aren’t all experienced the same by every person.  As such, though many do not have to endure such things, many people must cope with very grave adversity.  Although there are very good answers to this problem, this still causes me some degree of puzzlement.

But it shouldn’t cause me puzzlement when I’m sitting in what feels like the beginnings of a firestorm all around me.  Life may very well be completely awful, and I might have a legitimate bone to pick with God after it’s all over, but that can all wait.

I have a tire to change.

It’s that simple.

August 31, 2007

It’s 2am. I really ought to be in bed already or at least studying for the GRE or something.

I was struck by this tonight though:

 Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.” (John 6:27-29)

Things get complicated in life, but it really is this simple.  But be sure not to confuse simple with simplistic.  Belief in Jesus is indeed simple; it is not simplistic.

God the celestial computer geek

August 16, 2007

I was having a discussion about this article over email with some friends of mine. A quick excerpt for those who can’t be arsed to click (don’t worry- Dante says there’s a special place in the afterlife for the lazy):

I hadn’t imagined that the omniscient, omnipotent creator of the heavens and earth could be an advanced version of a guy who spends his weekends building model railroads or overseeing video-game worlds like the Sims. But now it seems quite possible. In fact, if you accept a pretty reasonable assumption of Dr. Bostrom’s, it is almost a mathematical certainty that we are living in someone else’s computer simulation. <snippity snip> It’s unsettling to think of the world being run by a futuristic computer geek, although we might at last dispose of that of classic theological question: How could God allow so much evil in the world? For the same reason there are plagues and earthquakes and battles in games like World of Warcraft. Peace is boring, Dude.

This may be an interesting idea to a certain class of people. However as intriguing as it may be, it does nothing with regards to answering any theological questions whatsoever, as I shall show. Yet at the same time, it does serve to illustrate an important theological truth which people often miscalculate; a truth which is fundamental to how God ought to be viewed by those who love and revere Him.

One must admit that it seems very neat and tidy to hypothesize such a picture of God; not only is such a God more palatable to the human psyche, doesn’t it also go a long way in solving many theological conundrums, namely, the problems of evil and first cause? Perhaps God is only eternal with regards to our universe, and there is no need, then, to be dogmatic about His transcendence as it is commonly taught by the Judeo-Christian view of God. He may, in a sense, be but a distant descendant of humanity- what the article calls a “post-human”. And if the world is but a computer program or the equivalent, as the link goes on to point out, it does not necessarily follow that we are any less real or important than we were before. Our universe remains just as real to us, and surely such an advanced level of computing could fulfill the promises of artificial intelligence we have learned to anticipate through science fiction. We need not be dust in the wind.

Yet the speciousness of such an idea is readily apparent when it is fully considered. Laying aside for a moment the Christian theological considerations themselves, there are plenty philosophically damning non sequitars in this exercise to render it completely impotent. It does not begin to solve even one of the Great Questions. Assuming all of it were true, from beginning to end, the question would still arise as to the nature of this creator, whose title I will no longer capitalize for reasons that will become quickly apparent. Is this creator itself a created being? If it is so, as the thesis of this theory seems to teach, we are back where we started! By removing ourselves one extra rung from the top of the existential ladder, we have not answered the question “on what does the ladder rest?” Similarly, the problem of evil is just as confounding as ever. If we are indeed beings who matter- as we must assume since the alternative is not an idea that allows us to continue to have ideas- the Metacreator would be just as responsible for the evil in our world as the sub-creator’s world which He created directly. Why would the creator’s Creator have created a creator with a penchant for World of Warcraft over, say, Left Behind: Eternal Forces? Well other than the fact that Left Behind: Eternal Forces is probably really, really lame.. but then, so is Warcraft.

Christianity itself has much with which to inform this debate as well. It is clear from scripture the God whom we worship is the transcendant God, the God who created all, and by Him all things subsist, that in Him we live and move and have our being. We may very well discover that we exist in a computer program, but this would have few- or no- implications for Christian theology. It would just make things odd. Not even more interesting. Just odd.

One might push back, countering that the scriptural ascribtions (is that a word? it is now!) of transcendence to God as it is commonly understood might simply be metaphor. This is mere double talk, though. Metaphor presupposes two things. First, that the one to whom a metaphor is given has it within their cognitive faculty to understand the metaphor. Otherwise, it would not be a metaphor, it would just be gibberish. The second underlying assumption: metaphor is only useful if it points us in a direction of truth. Metaphor is useless if it is simply meant to be enigmatic and teach the opposite of what the metaphor seems to say. If the truth about God is closer to the picture of the post-human computer nerd than to the transcendent Creator and Sustainer of all, the metaphor would point in the direction of the truth, not the opposite direction which it currently points. There are numerous references to god’s uncreated nature in the Bible, both direct and indirect. Could these references be metaphor for something we don’t understand? They almost certainly are. However, they cannot mean the opposite of what they seem to be saying, or they would cease to be metaphor and simply be confusing or worse, completely misleading. And suddenly all Christian belief- the trustworthiness of the Bible along with the nature of God and everything connected to them- are no longer certain. No, we don’t go down that road.

Even more fundamental, though, is the following, which is relevant to even the non religious and the non Christian. We must ask the question here, what makes God God? What characteristic or characteristics are the essential ones, the ones where we must begin if we are to have a throughly constructed picture of His constitution? There is actually one very basic characteristic on which all theology must rest- God is uncreated. He is the Uncreated Creator. Unlike the computer programmer, there is no problem of first cause when it comes to God’s existence. It is the most simple and obvious answer to this Great Question. The very notion of God precludes any possibility of the designer being anything other than the original Undesigned Designer- otherwise, you would have an infinite regression of causes with no first cause at all. Both ideas seem absurd in their own way, but the idea of God the Uncaused Cause has a ring of truth to it that cannot be dismissed.

Here’s the crux of the problem. It is a common misconception that we worship God because He created us. We do not. We worship God because He is intrinsically valuable, and He bestows all value by his choice; not random choice, but according to His character. We as human individuals are only valuable because He has Valued us. Freedom is only valuable because it is consistent with His character, as is Love. Money is only valuable because we take the bit of value He has given us and in turn bestow it upon money. Even more fundamental: a god who is created is not deserving of worship. We ought not worship the great computer nerd in the sky; it would even be binding upon us to resist the urge worship “the created thing rather than the Creator, who is forever praised. Amen.” He is deserving of gratitude, but not worship.

What makes God God is that He is uncreated, in the most literal, metaphysical, and basic sense of the concept. A created god is no God at all.