Hello friends. I must confess that over the Thanksgiving weekend, I fell off the reading regimen I have enjoyed so much this year. Both my brothers and wives and my niece came to visit. A destabilizing event of great joy, but it's taken awhile to get back into my routines. So I missed Daniel, but I've decided to just come back to him some other time and get back with the schedule. I think my favorite thing about this project has been rediscovering the OT prophets. Really, I had forgotten or maybe never noticed. I feel I owe a debt of gratitude to Ali for helping me rediscover all that richness by inviting me to be part of this project. Thanks much, Ali.
As promised many months ago, below you will find something of a bibliography of fairly recent writings about the KJV. I don't claim it is comprehensive, but it's a start. I've enjoyed poking around in some of these resources.
Alter, Robert. Pen of Iron: American Prose and the King James Bible. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2010.
Bobrick, Benson. Wide as the Waters: The Story of the English Bible and the Revolution it Inspired. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2001.
Brake, Donald L. and Shelly Beach. A Visual History of the King James Bible: The Dramatic Story of the World’s Best-Known Translation. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2011.
Burke, David G., ed. Translation that Openeth the Window: Reflections on the History and Legacy of the King James Bible. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2009.
Campbell, Gordon. Bible: The Story of the King James Version 1611-2011. Oxford University Press, 2010.
Christian History, Issue 100, 2011. www.christianhistorymagazine.org
Crystal, David. Begat: The King James Bible and the English Language. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2010.
Daniell, David. The Bible in English: Its History and Influence. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003.
Daniell has also written what is arguably the definitive biography of William Tyndale, to whom English readers and lovers of the Bible owe so much. Simply entitled William Tyndale: A Biography, it was published also by Yale University Press in 1994. I came away with an increased appreciation of the seemingly incalculable cost in martyrs’ blood for my salvation. Besides the good this has wrought in my soul in increasing its bent towards gratitude, it has also provided a helpful perspective on the sometimes necessary entanglement in politics the truth of the gospel can lead to, simply in a Christian’s willingness to proclaim the truth of Scripture, as gently and yet forthrightly as possible for its own sake and for the salvation of its hearers, even when it is politically or culturally unpopular, even dangerous to do so.
Fujimura, Makoto. The Four Gospels. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2011.
Fujimura illuminates the text of the ESV in honor of the 400th anniversary of the King James Version. His illuminations are exquisite. I find it a unique tribute to the artful language of the KJV to take what some would consider verbally a less elegant modern translation (even for all its other benefits) and embellish the text with visual beauty. The fact is the ESV shares a strong connection with the KJV in its translation lineage, and some of Tyndale’s exact phrases remain in the ESV.
McGrath, Alistair. In the Beginning: The Story of the King James Bible and How it Changed a Nation, a Language, and a Culture. New York: Random House, 2001.
Moore, Helen and Julian Reid, eds. Manifold Greatness: The Making of the King James Version. Oxford: Bodleian Library, U of Oxford, 2011.
Nicolson, Adam. God’s Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible. New York: Harper Collins, 2003.
Noll, Mark. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2011/may/worldwithoutkjv.html
Norton, David. A Textual History of the King James Version. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.
Rhodes, Errol F. and Liana Lupas, eds. The Translators to the Reader: The Original Preface of the King James Version of 1611 Revisited. New York: American Bible Society, 1997.
Ryken, Leland. Legacy of the King James Bible: Celebrating 400 Years of the Most Influential English Translation. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2011.
Teems, David. Majestie: The King Behind the King James Bible. Thomas Nelson, 2010.
Wilson, Derek. The People’s Bible: The Remarkable History of the King James Version. Oxford: Lion Hudson, 2010.
http://www.wts.edu/stayinformed/view.html?id=1147
One further brief note in this excessively long post. In his 2003 book The Death of Picasso, Guy Davenport includes a great essay on Benson Bobrick’s book listed above. The following two tidbits are from that essay, found on pages 134-139 of his beautiful book of essays.
1. Bobrick took his title, Wide as the Waters Be from an anonymous, (and prophetic) hymn about John Wycliffe (1328-1384), who died before they could burn him at the stake for translating the very first English Bible. In 1428, the Church dug up his bones and burned them postmortem on a bridge over the River Swift, a tributary of the Avon. Thus the hymn:
The Avon to the Severn runs
The Severn to the sea,
And Wickliffe’s dust shall spread abroad,
Wide as the waters be.
2. Tyndale was burned at the stake on October 6, 1536 for his English translation from the original Hebrew and Greek, which largely was the basis for Authorized Version of 1611. King James’s translators tidied up Tyndale’s translation, but accepted much of what he had rendered. Davenport comments:
Tyndale was burned alive for translating ekklesia as “congregation” (rather than “church”) and presbyteros as “elder” (rather than “priest”)—throwing open the way for Baptists to worship God in cellars and for Presbyterians to sing hymns in darkest Scotland. The hierarchy in Rome feared that placing the Bible in the hands of weavers and grocers would fragment the Church into a chaos of amateur theologians, wild enthusiasts, and illiterate exegetes. They were right: Protestant sects have chosen a menu of virtues, vices, and fixations from the Bible. (I know of a congregation in South Carolina that does not wear neckties, citing Isaiah’s putdown of gaudy apparel that the King James Version calls “tyres,” archaic English for “attire.” “Tyre” and “tie” sound the same on a South Carolina tongue.) (p.138)
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Common Sense Christianity
For most of my childhood and youth, I had one pastor--Steve Bailey. He came to our church when I was in fourth grade or so, and though my mother has since changed churches (and denominations!) and has since not attended my childhood church in some years, I've been able to make out that Steve left sometime about two years ago. He was there for some time, then.
I remember him preaching a sermon, or maybe it was a series, on James. The sermon (series?) was called "Common Sense Christianity." That name, I'll never forget. It's been one of the things that's stuck with me through the highs and lows of my faith, through my disbelief and unbelief and very strong belief. I've revisited James countless times, though I always seem to forget it, and find myself surprised and astonied (KJV word!) each time I read his letter again. It's so simple, so "common sense," and yet so powerful. Tonight, I read Chapter 1, and 19-21 struck me as especially apt:
As a man, as a weak man, I'm always looking for discipline. And this seems to ask of us, of me, the most simple, but almost most difficult form of discipline--slow to speak, slow to wrath, but swift to hear. How hard is that? So hard.
I came across the following, about these verses, from the concise Matthew Henry commentary:
Amen, beloved.
I remember him preaching a sermon, or maybe it was a series, on James. The sermon (series?) was called "Common Sense Christianity." That name, I'll never forget. It's been one of the things that's stuck with me through the highs and lows of my faith, through my disbelief and unbelief and very strong belief. I've revisited James countless times, though I always seem to forget it, and find myself surprised and astonied (KJV word!) each time I read his letter again. It's so simple, so "common sense," and yet so powerful. Tonight, I read Chapter 1, and 19-21 struck me as especially apt:
19Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath:
20For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.
21Wherefore lay apart all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, and receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls.
As a man, as a weak man, I'm always looking for discipline. And this seems to ask of us, of me, the most simple, but almost most difficult form of discipline--slow to speak, slow to wrath, but swift to hear. How hard is that? So hard.
I came across the following, about these verses, from the concise Matthew Henry commentary:
Instead of blaming God under our trials, let us open our ears and hearts to learn what he teaches by them. And if men would govern their tongues, they must govern their passions. The worst thing we can bring to any dispute, is anger. Here is an exhortation to lay apart, and to cast off as a filthy garment, all sinful practices. This must reach to sins of thought and affection, as well as of speech and practice; to every thing corrupt and sinful. We must yield ourselves to the word of God, with humble and teachable minds. Being willing to hear of our faults, taking it not only patiently, but thankfully. It is the design of the word of God to make us wise to salvation; and those who propose any mean or low ends in attending upon it, dishonour the gospel, and disappoint their own souls.Tonight, I hear this from our Father--let us search for discipline, and let us know that the only way to find it is to be teachable and humble, lest we dishonor our own souls and our Lord's sacrifice.
Amen, beloved.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Did you ever beg anyone to listen?
Jeremiah has surprised me. I began with expectations of weepy prophetic utterances and lots of doom and judgment. What I've found is raw courage on Jeremiah's part, endless patience and unrelenting offers of salvation on God's part, and determined disbelief and disobedience on the part of the hearers. It's not easy to say things that people really need to listen to and see them repeatedly take no interest whatsoever. 22:29 "O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the LORD." I can't get over the sound of that plea, a source of help for me as I prepare to teach a class of non music majors how to listen to classical music. Jeremiah will be my companion in this journey, quaking in my boots I assure you.
Monday, September 19, 2011
William Tyndale
I'm reading a lengthy biography of William Tyndale's life and I am finding it humbling and highly educational. The excerpt below is taken from a work Tyndale wrote called The Obedience of a Christian Man. He is offering an apology, yet again, for why a literal translation of the scriptures in English from the original languages was so necessary. It is not difficult to see why his considerable rhetorical skill rocked the boats of the ecclesiastical powers that be. It reads beautifully out loud:
"The greatest cause of which captivity and the decay of the faith and this blindness wherein we now are, sprang first of allegories. For Origen and they of his time drew all the scripture unto allegories. Whose ensample they that came after followed so long, till at the last they forgot the order, and process of the text, supposing that the scripture served but to feign allegories upon. Insomuch that twenty doctors expound one text twenty ways, as children make descant upon plain song. Then came our sophisters with the Anagogical and chopological sense, and with an anti-theme of half an inch, out of which some of them draw a thread of nine days long. Yea thou shalt find enough that will preach Christ, and prove what some ever point of the faith that thou will, as well out of a fable of Ovid or any other Poet, as out of St. John's gospel or Paul's epistles. Yea they are come into such blindness that they not only say that the literal sense profiteth not, but also that it is hurtful, and noisome and killeth the soul. Which damnable doctrine they prove by a text of Paul, 2 Cor iii where he saith the letter killeth but the spirit giveth life. We must therefore, say they seek out some chopological sense." ~ David Daniell, William Tyndale: A Biography, 240.
I love "ensample," the wonderful musical analogy, and of course, "chopological"! This is the man who gave us the KJV!
"The greatest cause of which captivity and the decay of the faith and this blindness wherein we now are, sprang first of allegories. For Origen and they of his time drew all the scripture unto allegories. Whose ensample they that came after followed so long, till at the last they forgot the order, and process of the text, supposing that the scripture served but to feign allegories upon. Insomuch that twenty doctors expound one text twenty ways, as children make descant upon plain song. Then came our sophisters with the Anagogical and chopological sense, and with an anti-theme of half an inch, out of which some of them draw a thread of nine days long. Yea thou shalt find enough that will preach Christ, and prove what some ever point of the faith that thou will, as well out of a fable of Ovid or any other Poet, as out of St. John's gospel or Paul's epistles. Yea they are come into such blindness that they not only say that the literal sense profiteth not, but also that it is hurtful, and noisome and killeth the soul. Which damnable doctrine they prove by a text of Paul, 2 Cor iii where he saith the letter killeth but the spirit giveth life. We must therefore, say they seek out some chopological sense." ~ David Daniell, William Tyndale: A Biography, 240.
I love "ensample," the wonderful musical analogy, and of course, "chopological"! This is the man who gave us the KJV!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
First Chronicles, the Shorter Version
David: Dear God, I think it's pretty lame I live in this fancy house and the Ark is in a tent. I'd like to build you a house.
YHWH: Dave, don't worry about it.
Dave: No, Sir, I really mean it, I want to build you a house.
YHWH: I understand. I'm flattered, and I'd let you build me a house--but remember all that blood on your hands? Remember Uriah's wife? Tell you what--you can't do it, but I'll let your son do it. Deal?
Dave: DEAL!
David proceeds to get all the wood, all the gold, all the bronze, all the silver, and all the jewels that could possibly be used on the temple together. He draws the plans. He figures out who will play the harp on what day, the cymbal on what day. Who'll guard the north door on this day. He makes all the plans. He can't build God's house, but he's too excited and too in love with God not to do something to praise him with all of his might (do we, friends, praise God with all of our might? Or do we wait for the "perfect" opportunity, the really magnificent thing we can do for Him? I think He wants us to be like David, and praise Him as best as we can, while accepting that there are some things we just can't do).
And then, in Chapter 29, he sings a song of praise that has serious echoes of our Lord's Prayer. And then he crowns Solomon king. And then, the thing that hit me so hard when I read it this morning:
27And the time that he reigned over Israel was forty years; seven years reigned he in Hebron, and thirty and three years reigned he in Jerusalem.
Read that again friends; not just forty years he reigned, but seven in Hebron and thirty-three in Jerusalem.
7 and 33. 7 and 33.
Oh praise Him, friends, for His mysterious and profound symmetry.
YHWH: Dave, don't worry about it.
Dave: No, Sir, I really mean it, I want to build you a house.
YHWH: I understand. I'm flattered, and I'd let you build me a house--but remember all that blood on your hands? Remember Uriah's wife? Tell you what--you can't do it, but I'll let your son do it. Deal?
Dave: DEAL!
David proceeds to get all the wood, all the gold, all the bronze, all the silver, and all the jewels that could possibly be used on the temple together. He draws the plans. He figures out who will play the harp on what day, the cymbal on what day. Who'll guard the north door on this day. He makes all the plans. He can't build God's house, but he's too excited and too in love with God not to do something to praise him with all of his might (do we, friends, praise God with all of our might? Or do we wait for the "perfect" opportunity, the really magnificent thing we can do for Him? I think He wants us to be like David, and praise Him as best as we can, while accepting that there are some things we just can't do).
And then, in Chapter 29, he sings a song of praise that has serious echoes of our Lord's Prayer. And then he crowns Solomon king. And then, the thing that hit me so hard when I read it this morning:
27And the time that he reigned over Israel was forty years; seven years reigned he in Hebron, and thirty and three years reigned he in Jerusalem.
Read that again friends; not just forty years he reigned, but seven in Hebron and thirty-three in Jerusalem.
7 and 33. 7 and 33.
Oh praise Him, friends, for His mysterious and profound symmetry.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Dissonant Strains
A small shudder and a shaking of my head... The Song of Solomon in the KJV was apparently the source for at least three songs I heard and probably sang as a kid in church, the strains of which leapt unbidden to my mind as I read the words. His Banner Over Me is Love... Altogether Lovely...I am my Beloveds and He is Mine, which as I recall was one of the forty eleven verses of the first, and slightly adjusted in yet another...I am His and He is Mine. I'm not saying these were my favourite songs or anything, but I regret to find the strains still in my mind, taking up limited space! I resent this.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
The mystery of suffering
Reading through the book of Job has been enriched by my having a friend who is currently suffering a heinous mess of a life largely thrust upon her by someone else's sin and the ineptitude (i.e., painstaking slowness/inaccessibility) of the court system. Job understood many things, things about the justice and righteousness of God and his claims upon him as a sinful man, even about resurrection in the last day, but it seems that suffering was not on his radar. Is this part of the mystery revealed in Christ, that suffering is a necessary part of the path to glory? Not to say that we embrace it any more willingly this side of the cross. I am most challenged by the ineptitude of Job's three friends who seek to comfort Job, but end up only condemning him. Indeed I feel uncertain if there is any way to comfort a person who is acutely suffering. I say that not to get myself off the hook, for God knows that I continue to try, but when there is so little I can do to alleviate the suffering, encouraging someone to wait patiently for the LORD to act, to keep their view on His final justice, where justice will be done and will be seen to be done, seems so inadequate. There is this interesting character of Elihu, a younger man, who weighs in late in the story, a prelude to the LORD's own appearance, who expresses his disappointment with the level of discourse he has heard from the four men. I don't quite know what to make of him, but feel his drawing attention to the unknowableness of God and our posture of humility in His presence, even when it looks like absence, is a good word. I'm really glad this story, with all its conundrums, is in the scriptures.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
they marvelled
With the start of the new school year, I've been thinking about student/teacher dynamics, and about academic genealogies, and how we become like our teachers in some regards. Recently one of my friends submitted an essay of hers to an academic journal, and in the report she got back, the reader recommended she check out the work of another scholar, who is in fact her dissertation director. The student's worked pointed back to the instructor's. I think these signs of influence are in all of us. We absorb the thought patterns and expressions and mannerisms of our instructors, and I'm sure this happens for better and for worse at times. But in reading Acts this morning, I came across this kind of interesting foil to the other forms of influence I'm considering here:
I like how their boldness and message are so clearly not of them that they point to the supernatural influence of Jesus, which is different from other kinds of influence. It's not that he has educated them in the conventional sense. They are unlearned and ignorant. But they have a wisdom that is not of them. And their boldness is startling too. This is all happening just a few weeks after Peter denied Jesus before pretty much the same group of people. But Jesus has changed them and is changing them, making them more like him in a way that doesn't have to do with their abilities or knowledge. Pretty exciting stuff.
Also, apropos of being like Jesus, I watched the movie "Of Gods and Men," last weekend, which is about Trappist monks in Algeria, who have to decide how to respond when terrorists start taking over the area. Also pretty great. I recommend it. Another instance of behavior that I think can only come from being with Jesus.
Now when they [the priests, the captain of the temple, and the Sadducees] saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were unlearned and ignorant men, they marvelled; and they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus.
I like how their boldness and message are so clearly not of them that they point to the supernatural influence of Jesus, which is different from other kinds of influence. It's not that he has educated them in the conventional sense. They are unlearned and ignorant. But they have a wisdom that is not of them. And their boldness is startling too. This is all happening just a few weeks after Peter denied Jesus before pretty much the same group of people. But Jesus has changed them and is changing them, making them more like him in a way that doesn't have to do with their abilities or knowledge. Pretty exciting stuff.
Also, apropos of being like Jesus, I watched the movie "Of Gods and Men," last weekend, which is about Trappist monks in Algeria, who have to decide how to respond when terrorists start taking over the area. Also pretty great. I recommend it. Another instance of behavior that I think can only come from being with Jesus.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Astonied
I ran across this great archaic word--astonied, past tense of astony--this morning in Ezra 9, twice in as many verses. In my ear I at first heard the [o] vowel as long, as in stone, but it turns out to be an [a], as in astonished. The definition I liked the best was "briefly deprived of the power to act." When was the last time anything made me sit astonied all day? And then Ezra's prayer of contrition at the time of the evening sacrifice. It makes me sit astonied, for a full five minutes, and long for God to stir me, us, with His reality...
Not even Solomon
Reading 1 Kings 4-6 this morning, which describes the tremendous prosperity Solomon enjoyed at the beginning of his reign. It gives new meaning to Jesus' words in Matthew 6 about how the lilies are arrayed in greater glory than he. I love the priorities here.
And I liked 4:25: "And Judah and Israel dwelt safely, every man under his vine and under his fig tree, from Dan even to Beersheba, all the days of Solomon." Not even Wendell Barry, in all his glory, can write an agrarian dream like that.
And I liked 4:25: "And Judah and Israel dwelt safely, every man under his vine and under his fig tree, from Dan even to Beersheba, all the days of Solomon." Not even Wendell Barry, in all his glory, can write an agrarian dream like that.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Proverbs for Spinsters
"A house and riches are the inheritance of fathers, and a prudent wife is from the LORD."
The convergence of this little proverb from last Saturday morning with a recent re-relishing of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and, for an extreme contrast, a production of Guys and Dolls I attended yesterday in Cedar Rapids, has caused some speculation on how Solomon's wisdom on the estate of holy matrimony, were he alive today, might be articulated. I get that the contrast he is going for in the proverb is not between the respective sources of a prudent wife, and say, an imprudent wife, but between what you can bequeath to your children and what you cannot. Your kids can inherit your house and your money when you die, but you can't give them a prudent wife. Only God can give them that. True as ever today, as parents of boys would be quick to affirm. But Solomon never offers a comment on the source of a good husband. Maybe that's his goal in a meta-sense through the whole book, producing wise men. But what are we 21st century, doing-our-best-to-be-prudent-industrious-educated-and-pleasant, maidens to make of this? What might Solomon say to us? How about:
Health, intelligence, beauty or wealth are gifts from God, but prudence outshines them all and will attract a faithful husband.
Yeah, if he's paying attention and hasn't been scared to death by his previous encounters with, uh, less worthy women. Or, is that precisely what we "average unmarried females" are, less worthy? My point is, the plight of unmarried women is not something I see too much in the scriptures. There's Ruth, and I love that story so much I memorized the whole book. I'm quick to recognize that we have it a lot better than single women used to have it, as I'm sure Jane Austen would affirm were she to pop in for a visit. Spinsterhood even suits some of us undoubtedly, and I'm really not as bitter and disgruntled as this post probably sounds, but I have moments of feeling invisible when I read the Bible and wish some inspired pen had breathed out a book of wise proverbs for spinsters.
The convergence of this little proverb from last Saturday morning with a recent re-relishing of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and, for an extreme contrast, a production of Guys and Dolls I attended yesterday in Cedar Rapids, has caused some speculation on how Solomon's wisdom on the estate of holy matrimony, were he alive today, might be articulated. I get that the contrast he is going for in the proverb is not between the respective sources of a prudent wife, and say, an imprudent wife, but between what you can bequeath to your children and what you cannot. Your kids can inherit your house and your money when you die, but you can't give them a prudent wife. Only God can give them that. True as ever today, as parents of boys would be quick to affirm. But Solomon never offers a comment on the source of a good husband. Maybe that's his goal in a meta-sense through the whole book, producing wise men. But what are we 21st century, doing-our-best-to-be-prudent-industrious-educated-and-pleasant, maidens to make of this? What might Solomon say to us? How about:
Health, intelligence, beauty or wealth are gifts from God, but prudence outshines them all and will attract a faithful husband.
Yeah, if he's paying attention and hasn't been scared to death by his previous encounters with, uh, less worthy women. Or, is that precisely what we "average unmarried females" are, less worthy? My point is, the plight of unmarried women is not something I see too much in the scriptures. There's Ruth, and I love that story so much I memorized the whole book. I'm quick to recognize that we have it a lot better than single women used to have it, as I'm sure Jane Austen would affirm were she to pop in for a visit. Spinsterhood even suits some of us undoubtedly, and I'm really not as bitter and disgruntled as this post probably sounds, but I have moments of feeling invisible when I read the Bible and wish some inspired pen had breathed out a book of wise proverbs for spinsters.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Psalm 46
1God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
2Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
3Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah.
4There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.
5God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early.
6The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved: he uttered his voice, the earth melted.
7The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.
8Come, behold the works of the LORD, what desolations he hath made in the earth.
9He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the fire.
10Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.
11The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.
I've been trying to memorize this lately so that I can think about it when I am tempted to worry. When I was kid, I listened to these Christian cassette tapes that were called G.T. and the Halo Express. They consisted of children being scared of things and an angel showing up and reminding them of the promises of scripture. And then those verses would be set to song. At the time I loved them. Now the super 80s music they used to accompany the verses is a downside, but I still remember the text, which was always from the NIV. The good news is that the King James version defamiliarizes the words just enough for me to forget the music from G.T. (even as I memorialize it here). But my favorite part of this one is when the psalmist talks about Jerusalem in v. 5: "God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early." And that right early. Amen.
Oh, and apropos music, the hymnal lists Martin Luther's "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" as based on Psalm 46. And there are no flies on that music. At least not for me.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Blind Eyes See and Seeing Eyes Blind
This morning I came upon this wonderful story that I only remember part of being told me in Sunday School. The part that I remember is the part where the city of Dothan is surrounded by an army from Syria, coming for Elisha the Holy Snitch, and Elisha's servant panics and wrings his hands to his master, and Elisha prays that God would open his eyes so he could see that "they that be with us are more than they that be with them," and he sees the fiery host. It's a great story, full of holy imagination for things we cannot see. But the second part of the story is a very cool reversal that I don't remember. The enemy comes down into the city and Elisha prays again, this time that God would smite them with blindness. And when they are blind, he leads them to Israel's king who has been eluding them raid after raid. And when they get there, in the middle of Samaria, in the presence of the king, then Elisha prays that God opens their eyes again, and we expect a great slaughter. The king asks Elisha if that's the plan, his eagerness palpable by repeating his question "My father, shall I smite them? shall I smite them?" But Elisha says no, that would be dishonourable; rather, he should feed them and send them home. And the king obeyed, "prepared a great provision for them" and then sent them on their way. And the story concludes, "So the bands of Syria came no more into the land of Israel."
It strikes me that there's a lot of blindness in this story, including the initial blindness of the king of Israel who is made to see that extending hospitality can execute peace more effectively than extending the sword. Makes me wonder what I'm blind about.
It strikes me that there's a lot of blindness in this story, including the initial blindness of the king of Israel who is made to see that extending hospitality can execute peace more effectively than extending the sword. Makes me wonder what I'm blind about.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
on rejection
This morning I read 1 Samuel 8, which recounts Israel's request for a human king. This request is tantamount to the people rejecting Samuel, who has acted as priest and prophet at God's appointment since his youth. But also, the Israelites' desire for a king is an effective rejection of God, as demonstrated by the exchanges first between Samuel and the people and then between Samuel and God:
4Then all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah 5and said to him, Behold, you are old and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now appoint for us a king to judge us like all the nations. 6But the thing displeased Samuel when they said, Give us a king to judge us. And Samuel prayed to the LORD. 7And the LORD said to Samuel, Obey the voice of the people in all that they say to you, for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them.
The thing that strikes me here is how personally painful this rejection feels, especially to God, who sounds downright sad: "for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them." I know that God's emotions shouldn't surprise me, but they do. Clearly God is not a human, but God is a person and has the emotions of a person. Or I guess the better way to say it might be that since we are made in his image, we have emotions, just like he does. Maybe because of the incarnation, I think of Christ as the part of the Trinity with emotions. But I think that view of God is not nearly holistic enough (which I realize my view never will be, finite and all). Anyway, this made me feel sad for God, who was sad when his people, whom he has preserved despite their waywardness, want to be like everyone else, which means looking to a human rather than to him. It is good for me to hear his sad voice here and remember that his desire for our obedience isn't just the result of some rigid standard, but of the affection of a person who is more committed to us than we can know.
4Then all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah 5and said to him, Behold, you are old and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now appoint for us a king to judge us like all the nations. 6But the thing displeased Samuel when they said, Give us a king to judge us. And Samuel prayed to the LORD. 7And the LORD said to Samuel, Obey the voice of the people in all that they say to you, for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them.
The thing that strikes me here is how personally painful this rejection feels, especially to God, who sounds downright sad: "for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them." I know that God's emotions shouldn't surprise me, but they do. Clearly God is not a human, but God is a person and has the emotions of a person. Or I guess the better way to say it might be that since we are made in his image, we have emotions, just like he does. Maybe because of the incarnation, I think of Christ as the part of the Trinity with emotions. But I think that view of God is not nearly holistic enough (which I realize my view never will be, finite and all). Anyway, this made me feel sad for God, who was sad when his people, whom he has preserved despite their waywardness, want to be like everyone else, which means looking to a human rather than to him. It is good for me to hear his sad voice here and remember that his desire for our obedience isn't just the result of some rigid standard, but of the affection of a person who is more committed to us than we can know.
Monday, June 20, 2011
The Faithful in Parentheses
This past weekend I attended a really good production of Hairspray at the dinner theatre Circa '21 here in Rock Island, and left the show most impressed not with the portrayal of the lead character, Tracy Turnblad, but with the performance of the actor playing the non-major character Penny Pingleton. She stole the show every time she walked on the stage. This, combined with thinking on Ali's last post, produced a reflection surrounding this past weekend's reading: that Sunday School stories often confused "spectacular" with "more important" and overlooked unspectacular stories that are to be found in the very same texts as their more spectacular counterparts. The take home message, intentionally or unintentionally, was that God always works in spectacular ways, and that if we are true followers, our lives ought to be spectacular too.
Take for instance the story of Elijah's confrontation with the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel. Remember that story from Sunday School? Yet just ahead of that story, in the first 15 verses of 1 Kings 18, we meet Obadiah, whose faithfulness to God did not at all resemble Elijah's and whose story I do not recall hearing in Sunday School. His faithfulness did not involve a spectacular public showdown with evil, but rather quiet civil disobedience, and is given to us in the narrative in a parenthetical comment: "(Now Obadiah feared the LORD greatly. For it was so, when Jezebel cut off the prophets of the LORD, that Obadiah took an hundred prophets, and hid them by fifty in a cave, and fed them with bread and water.)"
Or hearken back to that most difficult book of Judges. Chapter 3 tells the exciting story of Ehud the Benjamite judge who defeated the evil King Eglon of Moab. It reads like a James Bond synopsis. But the very last verse of chapter 3 is dedicated to the judge who succeeded Ehud, just one verse: "And after him was Shamgar the son of Anath, which slew of the Philistines six hundred men with an ox goad: and he also delivered Israel." Our imaginations are left to fill in mostly blanks about Shamgar. Did he work as a cattle herder and pick the Philistines off one unsuspecting victim at a time, unspectacularly, secretly? Seems plausible to me, and in its own way amazing, but easily overlooked. There are many other such contrasts both in scripture and in history it seems to me. I feel this tension in different aspects of my own vocation.
One must acknowledge that in the scriptural narrative, as in all complex narratives, a sense of importance is rightly given to major characters by how much we are told about them. Fair and good. One could say that in the grand arc of scripture, Elijah plays a more prominent role than does Obadiah. But Obadiah was not less faithful or pleasing to God. And in the final analysis neither they nor any others are going to care two bits about whether they were minor or major characters in God's story. This is an important context for Sunday School teachers in their relaying of Biblical stories and selecting curriculum. 1. It's God's story they are telling, the story of God in the world, and 2. Their students may be "major" or "minor" characters in God's story, but that is not half as important as whether they are found faithful.
Take for instance the story of Elijah's confrontation with the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel. Remember that story from Sunday School? Yet just ahead of that story, in the first 15 verses of 1 Kings 18, we meet Obadiah, whose faithfulness to God did not at all resemble Elijah's and whose story I do not recall hearing in Sunday School. His faithfulness did not involve a spectacular public showdown with evil, but rather quiet civil disobedience, and is given to us in the narrative in a parenthetical comment: "(Now Obadiah feared the LORD greatly. For it was so, when Jezebel cut off the prophets of the LORD, that Obadiah took an hundred prophets, and hid them by fifty in a cave, and fed them with bread and water.)"
Or hearken back to that most difficult book of Judges. Chapter 3 tells the exciting story of Ehud the Benjamite judge who defeated the evil King Eglon of Moab. It reads like a James Bond synopsis. But the very last verse of chapter 3 is dedicated to the judge who succeeded Ehud, just one verse: "And after him was Shamgar the son of Anath, which slew of the Philistines six hundred men with an ox goad: and he also delivered Israel." Our imaginations are left to fill in mostly blanks about Shamgar. Did he work as a cattle herder and pick the Philistines off one unsuspecting victim at a time, unspectacularly, secretly? Seems plausible to me, and in its own way amazing, but easily overlooked. There are many other such contrasts both in scripture and in history it seems to me. I feel this tension in different aspects of my own vocation.
One must acknowledge that in the scriptural narrative, as in all complex narratives, a sense of importance is rightly given to major characters by how much we are told about them. Fair and good. One could say that in the grand arc of scripture, Elijah plays a more prominent role than does Obadiah. But Obadiah was not less faithful or pleasing to God. And in the final analysis neither they nor any others are going to care two bits about whether they were minor or major characters in God's story. This is an important context for Sunday School teachers in their relaying of Biblical stories and selecting curriculum. 1. It's God's story they are telling, the story of God in the world, and 2. Their students may be "major" or "minor" characters in God's story, but that is not half as important as whether they are found faithful.
Friday, June 10, 2011
the old, old story
So school got out Alice Cooper-style this year, and I lighted out for home and spent a good month in Omaha (with little trips to Missouri and Illinois). And to my shame, I accidentally left my Bible in South Carolina. I've been back for about ten days now, and I'm working on getting caught up in my reading. And so I'm back in Judges, just coming up on Samson. But before that, I read the story of Gideon, who had already been on my mind this month.
See, my mom has been taking Bible survey classes, and while I was home, I had the pleasure (and it truly was a pleasure) of hearing her rant about how we've all been taught wrongly about Gideon. "That Gideon," the Sunday school narrative goes, "now he had faith. When he wanted to know God's will, he put out the fleece. We should all be like Gideon. When you want to know God's will, put out the fleece." (I, for one, have no idea what it means in a twenty-first century context to 'put out the fleece,' but there you have it.) But mom's point is that God had already told Gideon his will (Judges 6:12-23). In fact, Gideon had a christophany, or at least so I take it to be, since the text refers to this visitor as "the Lord." The fleece test was Gideon getting a second opinion of sorts. And even that wasn't enough for him. It's not until God lets Gideon overhear his enemies discuss how fearful they are that he believes he can win. This suggests that Gideon in that moment trusted the words of his enemies more than the words of God. Anyway, mom was hating on Gideon all month in reaction against his lauded Sunday School status. It was a fun time, especially coming from a mom who could not have more faithfully raised us on Bible stories. I appreciated her honesty about her revised reading and her frustration about overly-simplistic explications of the Bible.
While I don't mean to hate on Sunday School, I wonder if there are stories you would say you were mistaught? Or how have your Bible reading practices changed in adulthood? Or with more education?
See, my mom has been taking Bible survey classes, and while I was home, I had the pleasure (and it truly was a pleasure) of hearing her rant about how we've all been taught wrongly about Gideon. "That Gideon," the Sunday school narrative goes, "now he had faith. When he wanted to know God's will, he put out the fleece. We should all be like Gideon. When you want to know God's will, put out the fleece." (I, for one, have no idea what it means in a twenty-first century context to 'put out the fleece,' but there you have it.) But mom's point is that God had already told Gideon his will (Judges 6:12-23). In fact, Gideon had a christophany, or at least so I take it to be, since the text refers to this visitor as "the Lord." The fleece test was Gideon getting a second opinion of sorts. And even that wasn't enough for him. It's not until God lets Gideon overhear his enemies discuss how fearful they are that he believes he can win. This suggests that Gideon in that moment trusted the words of his enemies more than the words of God. Anyway, mom was hating on Gideon all month in reaction against his lauded Sunday School status. It was a fun time, especially coming from a mom who could not have more faithfully raised us on Bible stories. I appreciated her honesty about her revised reading and her frustration about overly-simplistic explications of the Bible.
While I don't mean to hate on Sunday School, I wonder if there are stories you would say you were mistaught? Or how have your Bible reading practices changed in adulthood? Or with more education?
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Women in Judges
Did anyone else find Judges a gruesome read? For me, not least because of the horrific stories involving women. A wide spectrum, kind of moving from light to dark.
- Caleb’s daughter Achsah, a reward to Othniel, his nephew, for conquering Kirjathsepher. She asked her father for a blessing, specifically springs of water, and he gave it to her. (1:12-15)
- Deborah, (ch. 4) prophetess, wife of Lapidoth, judge of Israel. She must have been some woman for Barak to say he wouldn’t go to war unless she went with him. She was the whip cracker of the operation, “Up;” she said to Barak, “for is this is the day….” And when it was all over, the captain of the army was done in at the hand of a woman. It’s hard not to conclude Barak was a bit lame.
- Jael, wife of Heber, slayer of Sisera with a tent peg and a hammer through the head.
- The anxious mother of Sisera and her wise ladies show up in Deborah’s exultant song in chapter 5, expecting their victor home with the spoils, preparing to decorate their men with handwoven banners of honor, presumably become their shrouds.
- Jephthah’s daughter rushed out with timbels and dancing to celebrate her father’s victory, which got her sacrificed in fulfillment of her father’s rash oath. (ch. 11) She laments her unfulfilled dreams for two months with her girlfriends, but returns to face her death. Did Jephthah do it himself I wonder? Did he ever sleep again? Stranger still, Jephthah is counted among the heroes of faith in Hebrews 11. I have to wonder if verse 35 is the key “Women received their dead raised to life again, and others were tortured, not accepting deliverance; that they might obtain a better resurrection.” Still, strange strange story. Makes me shudder.
- Thirty daughters of Izban, who it says had thirty sons and thirty daughters. He traded his daughters away for thirty daughters from abroad, presumably wives for his sons, and his daughters as wives for some foreign men. The original mail order brides.
- Manoah’s wife, barren, visited by “an angel of the Lord,” who turned out to be the LORD himself. As a result she gave birth to Samson, a whole other can of worms as a mother, I can only imagine.
- Samson’s women. I count three. His wife, the daughter of the Philistines in Timnath whose father gave her to his buddy after she had tricked him; a harlot he took up with in Gaza; and finally, Delilah, who it says he loved.
- Micah’s mother, from whom he stole a lot of silver, returned it eventually, whereupon she made a graven image with it and gave it back to him, encouraging his idolatrous ways and giving birth to a strange syncretism that seems to have a had a widespread following.
- The Levite’s concubine is as dark and X-rated a tale as I ever hope to read. She left him and went home to her father’s house, he came to win her back, finally extricated her from her father again, only to offer her as a peace offering to the deviant men of Benjamin, who ended up killing her after an all-night orgy, whereupon the Levite in some kind of weird holy indignation chopped her up and couriered her body parts to each of the twelve tribes of Israel as some kind of wakeup call to the evil days in which they found themselves.
- The women of Jabesh-gilead and the dancing daughters of Shiloh, finagled and co-opted to save the tribe of Benjamin from extinction.
All I can say is, what a relief to get to Ruth and Naomi!
- Caleb’s daughter Achsah, a reward to Othniel, his nephew, for conquering Kirjathsepher. She asked her father for a blessing, specifically springs of water, and he gave it to her. (1:12-15)
- Deborah, (ch. 4) prophetess, wife of Lapidoth, judge of Israel. She must have been some woman for Barak to say he wouldn’t go to war unless she went with him. She was the whip cracker of the operation, “Up;” she said to Barak, “for is this is the day….” And when it was all over, the captain of the army was done in at the hand of a woman. It’s hard not to conclude Barak was a bit lame.
- Jael, wife of Heber, slayer of Sisera with a tent peg and a hammer through the head.
- The anxious mother of Sisera and her wise ladies show up in Deborah’s exultant song in chapter 5, expecting their victor home with the spoils, preparing to decorate their men with handwoven banners of honor, presumably become their shrouds.
- Jephthah’s daughter rushed out with timbels and dancing to celebrate her father’s victory, which got her sacrificed in fulfillment of her father’s rash oath. (ch. 11) She laments her unfulfilled dreams for two months with her girlfriends, but returns to face her death. Did Jephthah do it himself I wonder? Did he ever sleep again? Stranger still, Jephthah is counted among the heroes of faith in Hebrews 11. I have to wonder if verse 35 is the key “Women received their dead raised to life again, and others were tortured, not accepting deliverance; that they might obtain a better resurrection.” Still, strange strange story. Makes me shudder.
- Thirty daughters of Izban, who it says had thirty sons and thirty daughters. He traded his daughters away for thirty daughters from abroad, presumably wives for his sons, and his daughters as wives for some foreign men. The original mail order brides.
- Manoah’s wife, barren, visited by “an angel of the Lord,” who turned out to be the LORD himself. As a result she gave birth to Samson, a whole other can of worms as a mother, I can only imagine.
- Samson’s women. I count three. His wife, the daughter of the Philistines in Timnath whose father gave her to his buddy after she had tricked him; a harlot he took up with in Gaza; and finally, Delilah, who it says he loved.
- Micah’s mother, from whom he stole a lot of silver, returned it eventually, whereupon she made a graven image with it and gave it back to him, encouraging his idolatrous ways and giving birth to a strange syncretism that seems to have a had a widespread following.
- The Levite’s concubine is as dark and X-rated a tale as I ever hope to read. She left him and went home to her father’s house, he came to win her back, finally extricated her from her father again, only to offer her as a peace offering to the deviant men of Benjamin, who ended up killing her after an all-night orgy, whereupon the Levite in some kind of weird holy indignation chopped her up and couriered her body parts to each of the twelve tribes of Israel as some kind of wakeup call to the evil days in which they found themselves.
- The women of Jabesh-gilead and the dancing daughters of Shiloh, finagled and co-opted to save the tribe of Benjamin from extinction.
All I can say is, what a relief to get to Ruth and Naomi!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Happy Birthday, KJV!
According to Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac, today is the very day itself!
Monday, April 11, 2011
Turn Us
The juxtaposition of the Old Testament, the New Testament (up to this point the Gospels) and the Psalms I find is often cool, not because of any particular foresight as in lectionary devisers, but just the trajectory of the story. Today, Joshua leads the company of Israel finally into the land God had promised to Abraham, and God opens their way once again spectacularly through a river. Much later, in Psalm 80, the psalmist celebrates this action as that of a master Gardener who brings a vine out of Egypt, clears land for it, and then plants it, and becomes a spectacular plant that fills the whole land. At the writing of the hymn however, the vine is languishing, and the refrain of the hymn goes:
Turn us again, O God, and cause thy face to shine; and we shall be saved.
I thought at first there must be an omitted "to", but it was consistent all three times the refrain comes in. The only thing that changes is the name of God is intensified: Turn us again, O God of hosts (v. 7) and Turn us again, O LORD God of hosts. (v. 19) Verse 14 is rendered in a similar kind of refrain "Return, we beseech thee, O God of hosts: look down from heaven, and behold and visit this vine." And verse 18 includes the petition "...quicken us, and we will call upon thy name."
Clearly the request is for God's help, and only he can save us. We have turned away, and as a result he has turned away. The vine he planted is dead. It made me ponder the image as a whole. The gardner has to train a vine so it doesn't become a tangled mess of inward growth, but actually spreads out, open to the glory which makes it thrive. It must be turned.
Turn us. Again.
Return.
Turn us again, O God, and cause thy face to shine; and we shall be saved.
I thought at first there must be an omitted "to", but it was consistent all three times the refrain comes in. The only thing that changes is the name of God is intensified: Turn us again, O God of hosts (v. 7) and Turn us again, O LORD God of hosts. (v. 19) Verse 14 is rendered in a similar kind of refrain "Return, we beseech thee, O God of hosts: look down from heaven, and behold and visit this vine." And verse 18 includes the petition "...quicken us, and we will call upon thy name."
Clearly the request is for God's help, and only he can save us. We have turned away, and as a result he has turned away. The vine he planted is dead. It made me ponder the image as a whole. The gardner has to train a vine so it doesn't become a tangled mess of inward growth, but actually spreads out, open to the glory which makes it thrive. It must be turned.
Turn us. Again.
Return.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
On being behind, and struggling with God
I'm behind, friends. Stuck in the latter pages of the Pentateuch (which, at least by page numbers, is a full fifth of the Bible. Sheesh, Moses). As I do read, in stops and fits, I'm chastened by God, made to see His way--even though the law has been perfected in Christ, and we need not worry about being "unclean until the even" anymore, there's still something magisterial (in the many meanings of that word) and often, even today, sensible about it. And I think what I keep running into is how difficult it was to put oneself into proper relationship with God, how many things you had to check off, how many things had to be remembered, how organized your life had to be--just how hard it was for the Israelites in the wilderness, but, oddly, how easy it was, too. Because God always provided for them, gave them what they needed, gave them the promise of something more and, in return, he asked for holiness in their comportment towards him. Holiness that was shown through various outward signs, outward signs that were hard, yes, but that made sense in that they often helped, aided in them experiencing His Providence, etc.
Okay, I'm rambling. What I'm trying to say is this: I've always been a struggler and fighter as it concerns my faith. I always find myself returning to the same old compulsions and sins, finding myself making myself hard towards God, only to fall down and plead the Blood again, realize that I've crucified Him again, and that I'm wretched and in need of God's Providence. I am, then, like the Israelites wandering in the wilderness. And as I read, I find myself both somehow comforted and somehow horrified by that fact, as for me to be holy, I need not remember what sort of wave offering to bring and how long I need to sit apart from the community, but only to have true faith in Our Lord and His redeeming love.
And, sitting here waiting for the sun to rise and listening to the birds sing their pre-dawn chorus, I read this morning's devotion by the always powerful Mr. Chambers, and somehow it makes sense vis-a-vis reading the Bible as well as praying, a sense I've somehow tried to spell out above.
Love to you all.
Okay, I'm rambling. What I'm trying to say is this: I've always been a struggler and fighter as it concerns my faith. I always find myself returning to the same old compulsions and sins, finding myself making myself hard towards God, only to fall down and plead the Blood again, realize that I've crucified Him again, and that I'm wretched and in need of God's Providence. I am, then, like the Israelites wandering in the wilderness. And as I read, I find myself both somehow comforted and somehow horrified by that fact, as for me to be holy, I need not remember what sort of wave offering to bring and how long I need to sit apart from the community, but only to have true faith in Our Lord and His redeeming love.
And, sitting here waiting for the sun to rise and listening to the birds sing their pre-dawn chorus, I read this morning's devotion by the always powerful Mr. Chambers, and somehow it makes sense vis-a-vis reading the Bible as well as praying, a sense I've somehow tried to spell out above.
Love to you all.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Errata History of the KJV
Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to receive the special 100th issue of Christian History magazine, which is dedicated to celebrating the 400th anniversary of this wonderful translation. It came with a complementary DVD documentary about the making of the KJV, quite well done, including interviews with some of the most charming scholars imaginable, some British as you might imagine, but also some clearly from the deep south, one elderly man from North Carolina that I just wanted to listen to forever. I wish I was clever enough to embed some portions from it here for you all to enjoy, but alas, I am not.
What I would like to share is a litany of printers' errors over the years, listed on p. 1 of the magazine, some highly amusing:
1611 -- The "Judas" Bible, where Judas, not Jesus, says "Sit ye here while I go yonder and pray." (Matt. 26:36)
1612 -- The "Printers" Bible, wherein Ps. 119:161 reads "Printers have persecuted me without a cause." (should be "Princes...")
1631 -- The "Wicked" Bible, omits the "not" from the seventh commandment, making it "Thou shalt commit adultery."
1716 -- The "Sin on" Bible, John 8:11, Jesus tells the woman caught in adultery to "Go and sin on more."
1717 -- The "Vinegar" Bible, the chapter heading for Luke 20 reads "The Parable of the Vinegar" instead of "...the Vineyard.")
1763 -- The "Fools" Bible, Psalm 14:1 reads "the fool hath said in his heart there is a God," rather than "no God." (Fined £3000.)
1804 -- The "Lions" Bible, "...thy son that shall come forth out of thy lions," instead of "loins."
1944 -- The "Owl" Bible, apparently the printing plate had a damaged letter n, so holy women were said to be in subjection to their "owl husbands" in 1 Peter 3:5.
They are wanting to republish Christian History magazine in some format or other, and are in the process of trying to ascertain what format will be the most successful and meet people's needs the best. I for one am glad of it.
What I would like to share is a litany of printers' errors over the years, listed on p. 1 of the magazine, some highly amusing:
1611 -- The "Judas" Bible, where Judas, not Jesus, says "Sit ye here while I go yonder and pray." (Matt. 26:36)
1612 -- The "Printers" Bible, wherein Ps. 119:161 reads "Printers have persecuted me without a cause." (should be "Princes...")
1631 -- The "Wicked" Bible, omits the "not" from the seventh commandment, making it "Thou shalt commit adultery."
1716 -- The "Sin on" Bible, John 8:11, Jesus tells the woman caught in adultery to "Go and sin on more."
1717 -- The "Vinegar" Bible, the chapter heading for Luke 20 reads "The Parable of the Vinegar" instead of "...the Vineyard.")
1763 -- The "Fools" Bible, Psalm 14:1 reads "the fool hath said in his heart there is a God," rather than "no God." (Fined £3000.)
1804 -- The "Lions" Bible, "...thy son that shall come forth out of thy lions," instead of "loins."
1944 -- The "Owl" Bible, apparently the printing plate had a damaged letter n, so holy women were said to be in subjection to their "owl husbands" in 1 Peter 3:5.
They are wanting to republish Christian History magazine in some format or other, and are in the process of trying to ascertain what format will be the most successful and meet people's needs the best. I for one am glad of it.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
When Balaam smote his ass
First off, I hope everyone is well and hanging in there. I'll confess that I've fallen behind with my reading, though I am almost caught up, but as we approach the gale-force part of the semester, it's been tricky to find time to reflect and post. So I have a few half-composed posts in my brain that I hope to get to soon, but for now, a word on Balaam's ass.
I've always thought this story was partly sad (who beats donkeys, with their sad eyes?) and partly awesome (talking animals!). But I don't think I paid it much mind beyond the fun of the Bible talking about asses and then an animal talking at all. But this time when I read it, it seemed much more profound. What Balaam gets credit for--having the power to effectually bless or curse--has to be redirected to God. And then there's Balaam's powerlessness to curse those whom God has blessed ("How shall I curse, whom God hath not cursed? Or how shall I defy, whom the Lord hath not defied?") And his repeated blessing of Israel instead. It's the kind of irony that excites me as a reader. It reminds me of the Haman/Mordecai plot in Esther. But anyway, on this reading, it occurred to me that the talking ass is Balaam's foil. A donkey can speak what God allows him to, but Balaam keeps going off script. The foolish things shame the wise. But in the end, Balaam is repeatedly referred to as "the man whose eyes are open," after he sees the angel barring his good donkey's way. And then there are the references to God, who "brought them out of Egypt; he hath as it were the strength of a unicorn" (Numbers 23:22 and 24:8). And the whole thing ends with a messianic prophecy. What a treat! What a good word about the power of God's favor.
I've always thought this story was partly sad (who beats donkeys, with their sad eyes?) and partly awesome (talking animals!). But I don't think I paid it much mind beyond the fun of the Bible talking about asses and then an animal talking at all. But this time when I read it, it seemed much more profound. What Balaam gets credit for--having the power to effectually bless or curse--has to be redirected to God. And then there's Balaam's powerlessness to curse those whom God has blessed ("How shall I curse, whom God hath not cursed? Or how shall I defy, whom the Lord hath not defied?") And his repeated blessing of Israel instead. It's the kind of irony that excites me as a reader. It reminds me of the Haman/Mordecai plot in Esther. But anyway, on this reading, it occurred to me that the talking ass is Balaam's foil. A donkey can speak what God allows him to, but Balaam keeps going off script. The foolish things shame the wise. But in the end, Balaam is repeatedly referred to as "the man whose eyes are open," after he sees the angel barring his good donkey's way. And then there are the references to God, who "brought them out of Egypt; he hath as it were the strength of a unicorn" (Numbers 23:22 and 24:8). And the whole thing ends with a messianic prophecy. What a treat! What a good word about the power of God's favor.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Forty Days
Forty days shows up throughout the biblical narrative, but I had forgotten that the initial exploration of the Promised Land was one of those forty days. And the large-scale unbelief that characterized the summation of what they found there was multiplied into a year-for-every-day judgment on the whole assembly.
Having just entered the forty-day penitential season of Lent, coming face to face with the weakness of my mortal flesh, I reflect on the forty days – forty years equation. The reminder that I am dust and to dust I shall return heightens my desire for corrected vision. Lent this year will be a time to identify the ways in which I allow giant-sized obstacles and grasshopper-sized me to obscure my vision of God, and His abundant mercy and enabling that Jesus has won for me. I’m grateful for these readings. They have provided a fresh narrative in which to experience Lent. “The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak.”
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The tutor that leads us to Christ
The last several days' readings for me have been all the specifications for sacrifice--what to sacrifice and when, what kind of animal to select, how to prepare it, how to deal with the parts of its body once it has been sacrificed. It's fairly graphic stuff, and while I'm not the most squeamish person, all that talk of the caul of the liver combines about three things I'd rather not contemplate. But I think it's been good for me to read. I keep thinking that if I had to select and kill an animal on a regular basis to atone for my sin, I bet I would be a lot more mindful of what I'm doing. It reminds me of negative reinforcement or something. The sheer unpleasantness would give a person pause. But then I remember what I believe about Christ's sacrifice, and I feel convicted about the low view I often take regarding my sin and how easily I can forget what was required in substituting the Just for the unjust: a much greater lamb, who takes away the sins of the world. In church right now, the pastor has been preaching through Galatians, so I've been thinking a lot about Galatians 3 as I read through the Pentateuch. In my reading, it definitely lends greater significance to laws, which I feel fairly removed from otherwise. (I'll quote the Galatians passage here in the KJV because, well, that's what we're doing. But I like the American Standard Version too, which calls the law our tutor.)
Galatians 3:24-29
But before faith came, we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed. Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster. For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. And if ye be Christ's, then are ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise. Amen.
Galatians 3:24-29
But before faith came, we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed. Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. But after that faith is come, we are no longer under a schoolmaster. For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. And if ye be Christ's, then are ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise. Amen.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Perpetuity
I love Matthew 28:20b. I love when Jesus tells his disciples, and us, "and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." It's comforting. It's perpetual. It's not will be, not would be, not can be...but am.
On a side note, what's up with "alway" as opposed to "always"? Modern translations seem to add the "s." But I kind of like the awkward and antique feel of "alway," don't you?
On a side note, what's up with "alway" as opposed to "always"? Modern translations seem to add the "s." But I kind of like the awkward and antique feel of "alway," don't you?
Sunday, February 13, 2011
A Change of Heart
Despite my purchase the other week of that gorgeous edition of the KJB, I was still woefully behind on my reading some time later. However, this meant that I ended up powering through large chunks of Genesis in one fell swoop. This, for me, was really good since I've noticed patterns this time through that I've not noticed in the past. I started this post a long time ago too, but am just getting back to it (even though I'm now well into Exodus. Alas. Caught up on one thing, behind on oh so many others).
The thing that stood out most to me in my readings in Genesis was Abram/Abraham's change of heart. He, like myself, and maybe like you too, dear reader, likes to be in control. God promises that He will "make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed" (Gen 12:2-3).
But then Abram goes off to Egypt and worries that because Sarai "art a fair woman to look upon" (Gen 13:11), he will be killed so that the Pharoah can have her. So, they say that Sarai is his sister. Of course, God just promised to multiply his nation and so one might think that God will also protect Abram and Sarai here. But Abram takes it into his own hands and the Pharaoh pays a price for sleeping with Sarai.
This happens again when Abram goes and sleeps with Hagar, conceiving Ishmael for his heir when he and Sarai refust to believe that God will provide them an heir through Sarai. This reaps consequences for Hagar who is treated harshly by Sarai after she conceives. But, God provides for her, promising here--and again later when she and Ishmael have left Abraham and Sarah and are on the point of death in the desert in Chapter 21)--that he will "multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude" (Gen 16:10).
It keeps on happening (Abraham even does the "she's my sister" schtick again) until God commands him to sacrifice Isaac. To me, this is when that "No, no. Let's do this *my* way" bit would want to really kick in. But instead, "Abraham rose up early in this morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told him" (Gen 22:3). He obeys without question. He seems to have reached a point in his relationship with God where he knows: obedience is the way. And, he has faith that God will provide another option, telling Issac, "God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering" (Gen 22:8), which, of course, He does.
To me, this change of heart is encouraging. I hope that, like Abraham, my faith and my obedience too will increase over time and that I will learn that my way is not the best way.
The thing that stood out most to me in my readings in Genesis was Abram/Abraham's change of heart. He, like myself, and maybe like you too, dear reader, likes to be in control. God promises that He will "make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed" (Gen 12:2-3).
But then Abram goes off to Egypt and worries that because Sarai "art a fair woman to look upon" (Gen 13:11), he will be killed so that the Pharoah can have her. So, they say that Sarai is his sister. Of course, God just promised to multiply his nation and so one might think that God will also protect Abram and Sarai here. But Abram takes it into his own hands and the Pharaoh pays a price for sleeping with Sarai.
This happens again when Abram goes and sleeps with Hagar, conceiving Ishmael for his heir when he and Sarai refust to believe that God will provide them an heir through Sarai. This reaps consequences for Hagar who is treated harshly by Sarai after she conceives. But, God provides for her, promising here--and again later when she and Ishmael have left Abraham and Sarah and are on the point of death in the desert in Chapter 21)--that he will "multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude" (Gen 16:10).
It keeps on happening (Abraham even does the "she's my sister" schtick again) until God commands him to sacrifice Isaac. To me, this is when that "No, no. Let's do this *my* way" bit would want to really kick in. But instead, "Abraham rose up early in this morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told him" (Gen 22:3). He obeys without question. He seems to have reached a point in his relationship with God where he knows: obedience is the way. And, he has faith that God will provide another option, telling Issac, "God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering" (Gen 22:8), which, of course, He does.
To me, this change of heart is encouraging. I hope that, like Abraham, my faith and my obedience too will increase over time and that I will learn that my way is not the best way.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Holy Vestments
Holy garments for beauty and story
Curious girdles and bonnets for glory
Cunning work and fine twined linen
Ouches of gold, Urim and Thummim
Beryl and onyx, emerald and agate
Resounding hems gold and pomegranate
Engraved signets and wreathed chains
Unrentable openings like habergeons
A priest for the people held on his heart
Perfect High Priest glimpsed in textile art
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Your One Stop Tabernacle Shop
Reading Exodus 37 and 38 today, my high school Bible study days came back to me in a Proustian rush. Our minister conducted what seemed like a three year Wednesday night series on the tabernacle, and he could go an hour on a single verse. Acacia! Cubits! Tabernacle! Fever! Catch it!
In my memory, these lessons are every bit as riveting as my description makes them sound (which is to say, not very).
But...with an adult's hindsight, here are some things I thought of while reading the passages today.
1. My old minister was a carpenter. Why didn't this click for me when I was in high school? I mean, to someone who wanted to use his hands to hold books instead of hammers, these passages seem needlessly detailed. But looking back, I can see why the cat was fascinated. I don't think he ever built an tabernacle (we didn't have any spare cubits of gold lying around), but he did make us a self-contained stand to sell fireworks in.
2. I imagined a blog project not unlike ours wherein the goal was to document building a replica of the tabernacle. I didn't find it, but I did find this!
3. How long is a cubit? 20 inches, or the length from the elbow to the end of the middle finger. The lower forearm cubit? 12 inches, or the length from the elbow to the base of the hand.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
He made the waters stand as an heap
The reading plan I’m following has me in Exodus among other places. This morning amidst crossing the Red Sea, I pondered the rioters and demonstrators way down in Egypt-land, seeking relief from yet another heart-hardening oppressor. Wouldn’t they rejoice to see the waters “stand as an heap” if only in solidarity with them. Actually, that phrase “stand as an heap” had me puzzled as to where it was, for as much as I remembered it when I thought of the story, I couldn’t find it in the Exodus account, nor in Moses’ song, nor in Miriam’s song. I was pretty sure this was not something I had made up, so I went hunting in the Psalms, and sure enough Asaph uses that phrase in his depressing history lesson in Psalm 78. A strange correlation by the way, with what I witnessed outside my window this morning in the wake of the blizzard last night: waters stood in wave-like wind-swept heaps of snow everywhere! And my kind Canadian neighbor, puffing all the while on the cigarette between his lips, valiantly sought to stand the waters in even higher heaps so as to allow us all passage on dry ground, only to break the shovel. I became aware of all this as I was reading. Funny, no?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Speaking in (and listening to) Tongues
No one told me that the King James Version of the Bible was the “right” translation. I grew up in a church that exclusively used the KJV, but it did a lot of other things that were exclusive too—for instance, demanding that men always wear long pants in public. Choosing to champion the KJV seemed relatively normal by comparison.
The church I grew up in could loosely be called charismatic, but that would be like saying that southern summers could loosely be called sweltering. The label was accurate, but somehow didn’t quite capture the experience
We were tongue-talkers. We were holy-rollers. I could quote Acts 2:38 before I learned to read. Acts 2 is to Oneness Pentecostals what Romans 8 was to Calvinists: the Bible’s defining chapter, the storehouse for thousands of sermons, and the motivation for millions of clapped or raised hands. We even made jokes out of its language. Q: What kind of car did the apostles drive? A: A Honda. Acts 2 says they were all “with one accord in one place.”
But Acts 2 is fascinating for one reason that I don’t think I ever heard a minister mention. It basically authorizes vernacular translation. The originary moment for the church AS church involves lots of people learning to speak in languages that aren’t their own, praising God in that tongue, and then having both the miraculous form and edifying content combine to spark a mass conversion.
I never considered this when I was a Oneness Pentecostal, but one of the church’s chief ironies is that they valorize glossalalia to the point of making it essential for salvation yet remain wary of newer Biblical translations.
This manifested itself particularly in the charismatic gift of tongues and interpretation, a rare worship treat that would often happen in a revival service or on a particularly fiery Sunday night service.
The set up was this: a worship song would end and the crowd-clapping and general God-adoration wouldn’t stop. And then there would be this eerie silence as one voice started talking over everyone else in some language that clearly wasn’t in English. In fact, it wasn’t clearly anything. I never heard a public tongue-talking that was in any language I could remotely identify. (When I was in college, I thought several times of recording the language and then taking it to a linguistics professor to identify the tongue. But the recorder seemed to ensure nothing happened, as though I were the cameraman sent to capture the faces of people who believed that cameras steal souls…only to find myself without film when I arrived). Upon hearing the louder voice, everyone shut up. Suddenly the church was a cavern filled with the voice of a prophet. The tongue-talking would last for a minute or two, would cease, and then slowly the fader would be pushed up and then general crowd noise would re-enter.
We were thanking God, but we were also biding our time, waiting for the interpretation. Then a voice would ring out over the crowd, but this time, it was speaking English. Often the interpreter would be the SAME person who did the tongue-talking. I have since realized how suspicious this was, but at the time it seemed like letting the farmer who planted and reaped the crop get to enjoy the first bite of the harvested corn.
The important thing was the WAY the interpreters spoke. Maybe my memory has skewed the numbers, but I am positive that at least 40% of the English interpretations of tongue-talking moments were in King James English. “Thus saith the Lord…” they often began. It says so much that when I was in high school, this diction only lent the interpretation more authority. There were always urban legends floating around about parishioners who had abused their power: “Thus saith the Lord, ‘I shall roast thee over hell like a hot dog.” Stuff like that. Looking back, I am amazed that those sorts of wacky moments didn’t happen more often.
Ever since, I’ve been a sucker for any comedy bit that used KJV phrasing. The Holy Hand Grenade section from Monty Python’s The Holy Grail. The soliloquy at the end of Woody Allen’s Love and Death. But it’s only because I know how much power the language has that these bits are hilarious, that almost as a defense mechanism against the powerful use of language represented in Acts 2, we had to make a groan-worthy car pun out of its 1st verse.
Friday, January 28, 2011
more to read
Thanks to Dave for sending this link from the BBC on the impact of the KJV on modern language.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Translators to the Reader
The other day I went to purchase a copy of the KJV Bible because I could no longer stand being bound to internet reading...and because I had/have fallen terribly behind on the reading schedule. My intent was to purchase the least expensive edition available, that also didn't set my teeth on edge with some crazy cover. In the end, though, I walked away (after paying, of course) with the Cambridge University Press' "Personal Concord Edition." As soon as I saw the royal seal and the inclusion of both the translators' dedication of the translation to King James and also their note to the readers...the early modern scholar in me insisted that I have this edition. (Also, it's really a lovely artifact. Nicely sized. Pleasantly bound. A decent type-face.)
I just finished reading the preface the translators wrote to the readers back in 1611 and wanted to share a few of their more lovely calls to study. There are a lot of interesting tidbits in this preface about the history of Biblical translations and the rationale for this one, but I found these calls rather encouraging and inspiring. I hope you do too.
From a section titled "The Praise of the Holy Scriptures":
"The Scriptures then being acknowledged to be so full and so perfect, how can we excuse ourselves of negligence, if we do not study them? of curiosity, if we be not content with them? ... It is not only an armour, but also a whole armoury of weapons, both offensive and defensive; whereby we may save ourselves and put the enemy to flight. It is not an herb, but a tree, or rather a whole paradise of trees of life, which bring forth fruit every month, and the fruit thereof is for meat, and the leaves for medicine. ... Happy is the man that delighteth in the Scripture, and thrice happy that meditateth in it day and night."
From the final section, titled "Reasons inducing us not to stand curiously upon an identity of phrasing":
"Many other things we might give thee warning of, gentle Reader, if we had not exceeded the measure of a preface already. It remaineth that we commend thee to God, and to the Spirit of his grace, which is able to build further than we can ask or think. He removeth the scales from our eyes, the vail from our hearts, opening our wits that we may understand his word, enlarging our hearts, yea, correcting our affections, that we may love it above gold and silver, yea, that we may love it to the end. ... It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God; but a blessed thing it is, and will bring us to everlasting blessedness in the end, when God speaketh unto us, to hearken; when he setteth his word before us, to read it; when he stretcheth out his hand and calleth, to answer, Here am I, here we are to do thy will, O God. The Lord work a care and conscience in us to know him and serve him, that we may be acknowledged of him at the appearing of our Lord JESUS CHRIST, to whom with the Holy Ghost be all praise and thanksgiving. Amen."
I just finished reading the preface the translators wrote to the readers back in 1611 and wanted to share a few of their more lovely calls to study. There are a lot of interesting tidbits in this preface about the history of Biblical translations and the rationale for this one, but I found these calls rather encouraging and inspiring. I hope you do too.
From a section titled "The Praise of the Holy Scriptures":
"The Scriptures then being acknowledged to be so full and so perfect, how can we excuse ourselves of negligence, if we do not study them? of curiosity, if we be not content with them? ... It is not only an armour, but also a whole armoury of weapons, both offensive and defensive; whereby we may save ourselves and put the enemy to flight. It is not an herb, but a tree, or rather a whole paradise of trees of life, which bring forth fruit every month, and the fruit thereof is for meat, and the leaves for medicine. ... Happy is the man that delighteth in the Scripture, and thrice happy that meditateth in it day and night."
From the final section, titled "Reasons inducing us not to stand curiously upon an identity of phrasing":
"Many other things we might give thee warning of, gentle Reader, if we had not exceeded the measure of a preface already. It remaineth that we commend thee to God, and to the Spirit of his grace, which is able to build further than we can ask or think. He removeth the scales from our eyes, the vail from our hearts, opening our wits that we may understand his word, enlarging our hearts, yea, correcting our affections, that we may love it above gold and silver, yea, that we may love it to the end. ... It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God; but a blessed thing it is, and will bring us to everlasting blessedness in the end, when God speaketh unto us, to hearken; when he setteth his word before us, to read it; when he stretcheth out his hand and calleth, to answer, Here am I, here we are to do thy will, O God. The Lord work a care and conscience in us to know him and serve him, that we may be acknowledged of him at the appearing of our Lord JESUS CHRIST, to whom with the Holy Ghost be all praise and thanksgiving. Amen."
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
wroth
My first day's reading (which I clearly did a long time ago, ahem, ahem) contained both Genesis 4 and Matthew 2. And both those chapters feature people who are very wroth. In Genesis 4, it's Cain, and it goes like this: "And the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering: But unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell." And in Matthew, it goes like this: "Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked of the wise men, was exceedingly wroth, and sent forth, and slew all of the children that were in Bethlehem and in all the coasts thereof, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men."
In both cases, these wroth people aren't getting what they want (respect, information), and in both cases, they murder for it (Abel, the Innocents).
I don't really have a point here. I was just struck by the word and how it sounds much angrier and hotter than any of the words we use for being angry, like "furious," which is how the NIV translates the word in Matthew. I know it's out of use now (though Brooke tells me she knew a New Zealander who used it), but might it be time to bring back "wroth"?
In both cases, these wroth people aren't getting what they want (respect, information), and in both cases, they murder for it (Abel, the Innocents).
I don't really have a point here. I was just struck by the word and how it sounds much angrier and hotter than any of the words we use for being angry, like "furious," which is how the NIV translates the word in Matthew. I know it's out of use now (though Brooke tells me she knew a New Zealander who used it), but might it be time to bring back "wroth"?
Monday, January 17, 2011
KJV on MLK Day
If I may depart from the beautiful contemplations upon the KJV text offered in other posts, I would like, in honor of the day, to point out a couple of resources that I stumbled across this morning. By the way, I've started a bibliography of recent books and articles about the significance of the KJV and will plan to post what I accumulate closer to the end of the year. (I might even manage to read a couple.) One I found on a blog devoted to Church History called Grateful to the Dead which contains recent posts about the KJV. It highlights a sizable tome by David Daniel called "The Bible in English," apparently impressively living up to its subtitle, 'A goldmine of the KJV in America.' An earlier post on this same blog focuses especially on the influence of the KJV in African American churches. One minister-scholar reflected that in many African American churches, the KJV is the choice for more formal ritual aspects of corporate worship such as the Lord's Supper, Baptism and Foot-washing, and also seems the text of choice in moments calling for pastoral counsel and consolation. Two reasons were suggested: the familiarity of the texts in KJV and the solemn stately elegance of the language. As such, it may be one of few texts in America today that are both broadly familiar and characterized by stately elegance. Martin Luther King's "I have a dream speech" would be another. Perhaps not coincidental influence there. A rather beautiful reversal in view of the fact that basic literacy was withheld from slaves as a primary way to disempower them.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Food and Toil
First off, the poetry of "and the evening and the morning were the x day" is just incredible.
But to food and toil. So, We Fall. And we remember what our Lord says after this:
In 3:19, God makes clear here that we will die, and when we die, we will return to the dust of which we were made. Four verses later, in 3:23, we are told that Adam then must till the ground--that very thing to which he shall return--to eat. Scripturally, eating is a memento mori.
Of course, this prefigures communion; we eat of Christ's body and blood to remember his sacrifice ("Do this in remembrance of me" was carved in large letters on the altar in my church as a boy). Yet, as Christians, I think we've compartmentalized this; we see the taking of the host and wine as some sort of isolated thing. But in the beginning--literally immediately afterwards--eating was death. Eating brought about death (2:17, for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die), and very process of creating food is a perpetual reminder of our Fall. To eat is to live, but also to be reminded of death; not just Christ's sacrificial death when we eat the communion wafer, but of our death, our depravity, our limitation and Fallen state as humans each time we put food to our lips.
As we live in a world where most of us are not involved in the toil to which Adam was cursed, we are able to ignore the death associated with food. Our death, our damnation. But reading the opening passages of Genesis, I'm forced back into consideration of this.
I'm about to go and get lunch. When I was a child, the blessing my family said over every meal was simple--"Thank you Father for this food. Bless it and bless us, in Jesus' name we pray and for His sake, amen." Simple, appropriate thankfulness. There's a humility in thankfulness. But today, I go to eat with a different sort of humility, a humility knowing that every bite I take connects me back to the beginning, to my Fall, to my sin, to my death, and a humility that recognizes that this is corrected, put right, only by Christ's body and blood, a meal I take at a different table.
Postscript--There's a lot more of this in Chapters 4 and 5. Cain and Abel. Blood spilled over, what else, food. Lamech, Noah's father--"5:29. And he called his name Noah, saying, this same shall comfort us concerning our work and toil of our hands, because of the ground which the Lord hath cursed." Toil, food. Death, the cursed ground. And Noah, literally, my references tell me, meaning rest. The spilling of Christ's blood, the food we eat to commemorate that, the rest we are promised in that--and on and on and on.
But to food and toil. So, We Fall. And we remember what our Lord says after this:
17. And unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it; cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life;
18. Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field;
19. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground, for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.
23. Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken.Okay. Wendell Berry and others like him have, for years now, decried a food production system that removes us from how that which we eat is created, nurtured, grown. Disconnecting people from what they eat leads, these folks contend, away from and understanding of the processes of life, death, pain, etc., those things that underpin existence. I'm not trying to advocate their view here (though I am, to be honest, sympathetic to it). Rather, I'm struck by what the Scriptures say about eating, and this most basic of practices having some significant metaphysical and existential implications.
In 3:19, God makes clear here that we will die, and when we die, we will return to the dust of which we were made. Four verses later, in 3:23, we are told that Adam then must till the ground--that very thing to which he shall return--to eat. Scripturally, eating is a memento mori.
Of course, this prefigures communion; we eat of Christ's body and blood to remember his sacrifice ("Do this in remembrance of me" was carved in large letters on the altar in my church as a boy). Yet, as Christians, I think we've compartmentalized this; we see the taking of the host and wine as some sort of isolated thing. But in the beginning--literally immediately afterwards--eating was death. Eating brought about death (2:17, for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die), and very process of creating food is a perpetual reminder of our Fall. To eat is to live, but also to be reminded of death; not just Christ's sacrificial death when we eat the communion wafer, but of our death, our depravity, our limitation and Fallen state as humans each time we put food to our lips.
As we live in a world where most of us are not involved in the toil to which Adam was cursed, we are able to ignore the death associated with food. Our death, our damnation. But reading the opening passages of Genesis, I'm forced back into consideration of this.
I'm about to go and get lunch. When I was a child, the blessing my family said over every meal was simple--"Thank you Father for this food. Bless it and bless us, in Jesus' name we pray and for His sake, amen." Simple, appropriate thankfulness. There's a humility in thankfulness. But today, I go to eat with a different sort of humility, a humility knowing that every bite I take connects me back to the beginning, to my Fall, to my sin, to my death, and a humility that recognizes that this is corrected, put right, only by Christ's body and blood, a meal I take at a different table.
Postscript--There's a lot more of this in Chapters 4 and 5. Cain and Abel. Blood spilled over, what else, food. Lamech, Noah's father--"5:29. And he called his name Noah, saying, this same shall comfort us concerning our work and toil of our hands, because of the ground which the Lord hath cursed." Toil, food. Death, the cursed ground. And Noah, literally, my references tell me, meaning rest. The spilling of Christ's blood, the food we eat to commemorate that, the rest we are promised in that--and on and on and on.
Handlers of Harps and Organs
I haven't read the early parts of Genesis in a long time--except via Milton in Paradise Lost, which I love, but it's obviously not scripture.
So, this time through, I noticed a new thing. I don't know what to make of it, except that I like it. I like that in Genesis Chapter 4, we're told:
20And Adah bare Jabal: he was the father of such as dwell in tents, and of such as have cattle.
21And his brother's name was Jubal: he was the father of all such as handle the harp and organ.
22And Zillah, she also bare Tubalcain, an instructer of every artificer in brass and iron
I think it's really great that we get three genres of work listed here. Two of them, tending cattle and making metal things, are very practical. But one of them is just beautiful--Jubal's line of harp and organ handlers.
Lately I've been noticing everywhere I look in the Bible how God provides for us abundantly. And this, to me, seems like another instance of that. Earlier in the reading, He provided coats of skins to replace the aprons of fig leaves--a real step up in the world of clothing. And not even an entirely necessary one given the climate. Just an abundant one. And then we get Cain's promise of protection--anyone who kills him will be avenged sevenfold. Abundant. And, finally, we get harps and organs--ways to make music and not just to make a living. Joyfully and beautifully abundant.
So often I tend to focus on the "lacks" I feel or experience in my walk with God and not on His abundant provisions. In those moments, I'm going to try to keep Jubal, the father of all such as handle the harp and organ, in mind.
PS--To me, it seemed like there must be some connection between the name "Jubal" and the word "jubilate" but the OED just lists Latin origins in the etymology. Anyone know better?
So, this time through, I noticed a new thing. I don't know what to make of it, except that I like it. I like that in Genesis Chapter 4, we're told:
20And Adah bare Jabal: he was the father of such as dwell in tents, and of such as have cattle.
21And his brother's name was Jubal: he was the father of all such as handle the harp and organ.
22And Zillah, she also bare Tubalcain, an instructer of every artificer in brass and iron
I think it's really great that we get three genres of work listed here. Two of them, tending cattle and making metal things, are very practical. But one of them is just beautiful--Jubal's line of harp and organ handlers.
Lately I've been noticing everywhere I look in the Bible how God provides for us abundantly. And this, to me, seems like another instance of that. Earlier in the reading, He provided coats of skins to replace the aprons of fig leaves--a real step up in the world of clothing. And not even an entirely necessary one given the climate. Just an abundant one. And then we get Cain's promise of protection--anyone who kills him will be avenged sevenfold. Abundant. And, finally, we get harps and organs--ways to make music and not just to make a living. Joyfully and beautifully abundant.
So often I tend to focus on the "lacks" I feel or experience in my walk with God and not on His abundant provisions. In those moments, I'm going to try to keep Jubal, the father of all such as handle the harp and organ, in mind.
PS--To me, it seemed like there must be some connection between the name "Jubal" and the word "jubilate" but the OED just lists Latin origins in the etymology. Anyone know better?
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
An Anniversary Project
I grew up in a household with little veneration for the King James translation of the Bible. My dad, who has a degree in Biblical studies and a deep regard for the Bible itself, was particularly not a fan. Early on he taught me and my sisters that as a translation of a translation, the KJV was often inaccurate, and he objected to the anachronism of those who believed that if it was good enough for Jesus, it is good enough for them. However, when my sisters and I memorized passages of the Bible as Awana kids, it was in the King James Version. As a six-year-old Spark, I remember voicing opposition to "all the thees and thous," probably parroting my dad's iconoclasm and getting a childish high off of sounding discriminating. Yet many of the Bible verses I have memorized, like Titus 2:11-13--the Awana verses we recited at the beginning of each week's meeting--I know in the King James:
For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ; Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.
Twenty-two years later, I am still one of God's peculiar people, and now one who appreciates the King James, oddities and all, for its distinctive style and its incredible cultural and literary influence. My goal is to read through the King James this year, in celebration of its 400th birthday, and to blog about it here, along with a few of my friends. We'll be responding it in various ways, drawing on our faith, frustrations, and various interests. I'm also working my way through Robert Alter's Pen of Iron, which examines the influence of the King James on American prose. Early on, Alter quotes Edmund Wilson on the influence of biblical language. The passage is apropos and the source of this blog's name, and so I will begin (and end) here:
"Here it is, that old tongue, with its clang and its flavor, sometimes rank, sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter; here it is in its concise solid stamp. Other cultures have felt its impact, and none--in the West, at least--seems quite to accommodate to it. Yet we find we have been living with it all our lives."
For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ; Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.
Twenty-two years later, I am still one of God's peculiar people, and now one who appreciates the King James, oddities and all, for its distinctive style and its incredible cultural and literary influence. My goal is to read through the King James this year, in celebration of its 400th birthday, and to blog about it here, along with a few of my friends. We'll be responding it in various ways, drawing on our faith, frustrations, and various interests. I'm also working my way through Robert Alter's Pen of Iron, which examines the influence of the King James on American prose. Early on, Alter quotes Edmund Wilson on the influence of biblical language. The passage is apropos and the source of this blog's name, and so I will begin (and end) here:
"Here it is, that old tongue, with its clang and its flavor, sometimes rank, sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter; here it is in its concise solid stamp. Other cultures have felt its impact, and none--in the West, at least--seems quite to accommodate to it. Yet we find we have been living with it all our lives."
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