In Luke 19, we have one of the accounts of one of Jesus’ cleansings of the temple, and then Luke says: “And he was teaching daily in the temple. The chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people were seeking to destroy him, but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were hanging on his words.”
The picture that I get is that most of the common people were no longer paying attention to their “principal men” anymore, because they couldn’t get enough of Jesus. So their “principal men” got angry and desperate to recover their lost ground, but found themselves powerless because the people weren’t paying any attention to them.
How powerful is belief. In the face of the most murderous opposition to Christ, belief in the truth was the primary deterrent to falsity. By the same token, if we are more engaged by the moral arguments of our “principal men,” does that not actually lend power to those who oppose Christianity?
On whose words do I hang?
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Good Friday
From the Book of Common Prayer:
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the world world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the world world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Let these words sink into your ears
Yesterday, I read in Deuteronomy Moses' promise that God would raise up a prophet from among them like him, and then in Luke 9:
"Now about eight days after these sayings [that is, after Jesus had told them that if anyone would be his disciple, he had to take up his cross and follow him] he took with him Peter and John and James and went up on the mountain to pray. And as he was praying, the appearance of his face was altered, and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were talking with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and those who were with him were heavy with sleep, but when they became fully awake they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. And as the men were parting from him, Peter said to Jesus, 'Master, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah'—not knowing what he said. As he was saying these things, a cloud came and overshadowed them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. And a voice came out of the cloud, saying, 'This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!' And when the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and told no one in those days anything of what they had seen."
When they come down off the mountain, Luke records that Jesus healed a child possessed by a spirit, and comments in vs. 43 that all were astonished at the majesty of God, only to go on to say,
“But while they were all marveling at everything he was doing, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men.’ But they did not understand this saying, and it was concealed from them, so that they might not perceive it. And they were afraid to ask him about this saying.”
We have glimpses of Jesus through the disciples’ eyes that not only fulfill Moses’ words that God would raise up for Israel a prophet like him from their midst, but actually include Moses in the picture, a huge clue you would think. But the disciples were at that time unable to perceive what they saw and heard, blinded and deafened by sleepiness and fear.
Hearing, understanding, and belief are all such mercy, without which we are left trembling before God’s thundering voice with no hope. That he eventually granted these mercies to the disciples is amazing, but that he grants them continually to us who read the gospel accounts seems even more amazing. What is not amazing is that we are slow to perceive, sleepy and afraid.
Yesterday, Palm Sunday, we read the entire story of the passion from the triumphal entry on. The priest suggested beforehand that we should let the words wash over us. Quietly in my heart I contradicted, "No, please Lord, in your mercy, let your words sink into my ear."
"Now about eight days after these sayings [that is, after Jesus had told them that if anyone would be his disciple, he had to take up his cross and follow him] he took with him Peter and John and James and went up on the mountain to pray. And as he was praying, the appearance of his face was altered, and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were talking with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and those who were with him were heavy with sleep, but when they became fully awake they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. And as the men were parting from him, Peter said to Jesus, 'Master, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah'—not knowing what he said. As he was saying these things, a cloud came and overshadowed them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. And a voice came out of the cloud, saying, 'This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!' And when the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and told no one in those days anything of what they had seen."
When they come down off the mountain, Luke records that Jesus healed a child possessed by a spirit, and comments in vs. 43 that all were astonished at the majesty of God, only to go on to say,
“But while they were all marveling at everything he was doing, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men.’ But they did not understand this saying, and it was concealed from them, so that they might not perceive it. And they were afraid to ask him about this saying.”
We have glimpses of Jesus through the disciples’ eyes that not only fulfill Moses’ words that God would raise up for Israel a prophet like him from their midst, but actually include Moses in the picture, a huge clue you would think. But the disciples were at that time unable to perceive what they saw and heard, blinded and deafened by sleepiness and fear.
Hearing, understanding, and belief are all such mercy, without which we are left trembling before God’s thundering voice with no hope. That he eventually granted these mercies to the disciples is amazing, but that he grants them continually to us who read the gospel accounts seems even more amazing. What is not amazing is that we are slow to perceive, sleepy and afraid.
Yesterday, Palm Sunday, we read the entire story of the passion from the triumphal entry on. The priest suggested beforehand that we should let the words wash over us. Quietly in my heart I contradicted, "No, please Lord, in your mercy, let your words sink into my ear."
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Mute
I was trying to get my students to think of the antithesis of sound yesterday and they could not come up with it.
In Luke 1, the first person we meet is Zechariah, a priest. He is visited by an angel, who gives him astounding news, to which Zechariah, a righteous man, understandably expressed incredulity. The sign he was given to prove this word would come to pass was his own muteness. He did not take a vow of silence. Silence was thrust upon him until his son was born. By this he came to believe that the word had come from God. A gestation of silence.
I wonder how much talking would be left in our world if all who are dubious about the veracity of the Word of God were struck mute until every word was fulfilled. It seems profound to me that the pathway to belief for Zechariah required him to stop talking.
In Luke 1, the first person we meet is Zechariah, a priest. He is visited by an angel, who gives him astounding news, to which Zechariah, a righteous man, understandably expressed incredulity. The sign he was given to prove this word would come to pass was his own muteness. He did not take a vow of silence. Silence was thrust upon him until his son was born. By this he came to believe that the word had come from God. A gestation of silence.
I wonder how much talking would be left in our world if all who are dubious about the veracity of the Word of God were struck mute until every word was fulfilled. It seems profound to me that the pathway to belief for Zechariah required him to stop talking.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
In the hearing of the Lord
Numbers 11 begins "And the people complained in the hearing of the LORD about their misfortunes."
It struck me that there is a qualitative difference between complaining in the hearing of the LORD, and in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving letting our requests be made known to God. He hears both of course, but they do not accomplish the same thing in our hearts, nor does it seem God's ear inclines to these utterances in the same way.
Something like the difference between a parent's response to a request from a whiney discontented child and a parent's response to a request from a contented child for something they need.
It struck me that there is a qualitative difference between complaining in the hearing of the LORD, and in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving letting our requests be made known to God. He hears both of course, but they do not accomplish the same thing in our hearts, nor does it seem God's ear inclines to these utterances in the same way.
Something like the difference between a parent's response to a request from a whiney discontented child and a parent's response to a request from a contented child for something they need.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
You have given me an open ear
The season of Lent is upon us, and this year I have decided to approach it a little differently by adding instead of taking away: adding disciplines which I don't do regularly but wish I did, like memorize poetry and scripture, one poem or scripture passage every week of Lent.
This coming week's project is Psalm 40, which I have long counted among my favorites, but have never memorized. You may think it's a little ironic that my Lenten psalm of choice includes "Sacrifice and offering you have not desired," but the main reason this psalm pressed itself on me is the next phrase, "but you have given me an open ear." The note in the ESV says that the Hebrew is literally "ears you have dug for me." Commentators I have encountered recently do not believe this has anything to do with piercing a slave's ear with an awl as a mark of ownership, which was rather the popular explanation I grew up with, but they link it to the subsequent images in the psalm of allowing the word of God to penetrate deeply, into the ears and seeping right down into the dark and stubborn will. That sounds like a Lenten project tailor made for me this year.
Sacrifice and offering you have not desired,
but you have given me an open ear.
Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required.
Then I said, "Behold, I have come;
In the scroll of the book it is written of me:
I desire to do your will, O my God,
Your law is written within my heart.
This combines rather well with project number one, a wonderful penitential poem of John Donne. I've been imbibing this poem since Ash Wednesday, for which service my church choir sang a wonderful setting. We will sing it again tomorrow. As usual, I knew the tune before I knew the words, but now I know the words by heart too, and I'm so glad.
Wilt thou forgive the sin where I begun,
Which is my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
Wilt thou forgive the sin which I have won
others to sin, and made my sins their door?
Wilt thou forgive the sin that I did shun
a year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun
my last thread, I shall perish on the shore.
Swear by thyself, that at my death thy Son
Shall shine, as He shines now and heretofore.
And having done that, thou hast done,
I fear no more.
This coming week's project is Psalm 40, which I have long counted among my favorites, but have never memorized. You may think it's a little ironic that my Lenten psalm of choice includes "Sacrifice and offering you have not desired," but the main reason this psalm pressed itself on me is the next phrase, "but you have given me an open ear." The note in the ESV says that the Hebrew is literally "ears you have dug for me." Commentators I have encountered recently do not believe this has anything to do with piercing a slave's ear with an awl as a mark of ownership, which was rather the popular explanation I grew up with, but they link it to the subsequent images in the psalm of allowing the word of God to penetrate deeply, into the ears and seeping right down into the dark and stubborn will. That sounds like a Lenten project tailor made for me this year.
Sacrifice and offering you have not desired,
but you have given me an open ear.
Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required.
Then I said, "Behold, I have come;
In the scroll of the book it is written of me:
I desire to do your will, O my God,
Your law is written within my heart.
This combines rather well with project number one, a wonderful penitential poem of John Donne. I've been imbibing this poem since Ash Wednesday, for which service my church choir sang a wonderful setting. We will sing it again tomorrow. As usual, I knew the tune before I knew the words, but now I know the words by heart too, and I'm so glad.
Wilt thou forgive the sin where I begun,
Which is my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
Wilt thou forgive the sin which I have won
others to sin, and made my sins their door?
Wilt thou forgive the sin that I did shun
a year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun
my last thread, I shall perish on the shore.
Swear by thyself, that at my death thy Son
Shall shine, as He shines now and heretofore.
And having done that, thou hast done,
I fear no more.
Monday, February 6, 2012
God's Voice
Psalm 29 offers an extensive description of the voice of the LORD.
“The voice of the LORD is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders, the LORD over many waters.
The voice of the LORD is powerful;
The voice of the LORD is full of majesty.
The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars;
The LORD breaks the cedars of Lebanon…
The voice of the LORD flashes forth flames of fire.
The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness…
The voice of the LORD makes the deer give birth.
He strips the forest bare, and in his temple all cry, “Glory!”
…May the LORD give strength to His people.
May the LORD bless his people with peace.”
I wonder if David was thinking about Mt. Sinai when he wrote that Psalm. Exodus 24 tells us God spoke with Moses, and that Moses wrote down all the words of the LORD. Not only that, but he read them aloud: “He took the Book of the Covenant and read it in the hearing of the people. And they said, “All that the LORD has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient.” And then Moses sprinkled them with the blood of the covenant. All this seems a profound shadow of the Word that would be made flesh. And then Moses went up the mountain, and Psalm 29 describes what the people heard, quaked at, and felt “Glory” in terrified awe rushing to their lips.
I almost wish I didn’t know how quickly they forgot, how quickly they worshiped a god of their own making. I do know, I know from experience.
We who are washed in the blood of the New Covenant would do well to remember these sounds and their fearful response. The Word made flesh is not a lesser manifestation of the Glory but a greater, and a nonchalant or ambivalent response is inappropriate. This creates a deep hunger in me for a more extensive and thoughtful palette of sounds in our Christian worship gatherings, and for shepherds who are about teaching us to listen, not just enabling talented parishioners to use their gifts!
I’ve been teaching my Art of Listening class the powerful music of the Romantic tradition, music that terrifies, that overwhelms with authoritative majesty, and then, oh blessed reprieve, the delicate music of France, tender enough to attend the miracle of birth, to strengthen the faint, and emit peace: we need it all! All of it reveals the full spectrum of God’s voice, and were it not for His image in us, we would not be able to create any of it. If it were not for my being a musician, I’m trying to think how I would know any of these sounds. They so rarely make it into church; some churches have never heard them. The very real risk of making music into “a god of our own making” is ever present, but to be without a full spectrum in our aural imaginations when it comes to hearing the voice of God, runs the terrible risk of producing desensitized Christians, ostensibly deaf: no more able to hear the still small voice than the thunder and lightening that breaks mighty cedars into matchsticks. I wish I could teach my Art of Listening class as a Sunday School class. There would be so much richness there.
“The voice of the LORD is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders, the LORD over many waters.
The voice of the LORD is powerful;
The voice of the LORD is full of majesty.
The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars;
The LORD breaks the cedars of Lebanon…
The voice of the LORD flashes forth flames of fire.
The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness…
The voice of the LORD makes the deer give birth.
He strips the forest bare, and in his temple all cry, “Glory!”
…May the LORD give strength to His people.
May the LORD bless his people with peace.”
I wonder if David was thinking about Mt. Sinai when he wrote that Psalm. Exodus 24 tells us God spoke with Moses, and that Moses wrote down all the words of the LORD. Not only that, but he read them aloud: “He took the Book of the Covenant and read it in the hearing of the people. And they said, “All that the LORD has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient.” And then Moses sprinkled them with the blood of the covenant. All this seems a profound shadow of the Word that would be made flesh. And then Moses went up the mountain, and Psalm 29 describes what the people heard, quaked at, and felt “Glory” in terrified awe rushing to their lips.
I almost wish I didn’t know how quickly they forgot, how quickly they worshiped a god of their own making. I do know, I know from experience.
We who are washed in the blood of the New Covenant would do well to remember these sounds and their fearful response. The Word made flesh is not a lesser manifestation of the Glory but a greater, and a nonchalant or ambivalent response is inappropriate. This creates a deep hunger in me for a more extensive and thoughtful palette of sounds in our Christian worship gatherings, and for shepherds who are about teaching us to listen, not just enabling talented parishioners to use their gifts!
I’ve been teaching my Art of Listening class the powerful music of the Romantic tradition, music that terrifies, that overwhelms with authoritative majesty, and then, oh blessed reprieve, the delicate music of France, tender enough to attend the miracle of birth, to strengthen the faint, and emit peace: we need it all! All of it reveals the full spectrum of God’s voice, and were it not for His image in us, we would not be able to create any of it. If it were not for my being a musician, I’m trying to think how I would know any of these sounds. They so rarely make it into church; some churches have never heard them. The very real risk of making music into “a god of our own making” is ever present, but to be without a full spectrum in our aural imaginations when it comes to hearing the voice of God, runs the terrible risk of producing desensitized Christians, ostensibly deaf: no more able to hear the still small voice than the thunder and lightening that breaks mighty cedars into matchsticks. I wish I could teach my Art of Listening class as a Sunday School class. There would be so much richness there.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Give Ear
Grumbling was the Israelites habitual vocabulary, and it is too often mine, not thanksgiving. Grumbling bubbled out of their hearts against their leader, but repeatedly Moses warned them that they were grumbling against God, for the things they were grumbling about Moses had no power to change and he was suffering all the same deprivations of basic needs as they were.
God answered Moses’ cry for help at Marah by giving him a log to put in the impotable water and it became sweet. At that point, the moment of provision, it says The LORD tested them, saying “If you will diligently listen to the voice of your LORD your God, and do that which is right in his eyes, and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians, for I am the LORD, your healer.” And then it says they came to Elim, where there was an abundance of water and palm trees for shade. God’s instruction was sealed by a luxurious provision, a healing balm from their wilderness hardships and an impetus for their faith, a sign that he would always provide. The Garden of Eden all over again: they were provided for and God gave them a rule to see if they would they would love Him as their God or focus on their creature comforts. The LORD tested their hearts again a little later using food, by providing food for them with instructions for exactly how they should gather it, to see “whether they will walk in my law or not.” Even without knowing the details, you know they flunked. The people quarreled with Moses again at Rephidim, over water—again—and Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the LORD?”
So the LORD tests us to see if we will give ear to his commandments and trust him, whether regardless of circumstances, we will look to him with expectant thanksgiving. Humans test the LORD by challenging his authority, his Godness, and doubting his love.
The LORD’s testing me is good and right, and apart from his provision of a Saviour, I fail.
My testing the LORD is sin.
“Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our sins…” among others, sins of withholding my ears instead of giving them over to his commandments and his healing; sins of lifting up a voice of grumbling and quarreling instead of thanksgiving. The moment of provision is at once the moment of healing and the moment of testing. I have occasion to “give ear” if you will, at least three times a day! And so many more.
God answered Moses’ cry for help at Marah by giving him a log to put in the impotable water and it became sweet. At that point, the moment of provision, it says The LORD tested them, saying “If you will diligently listen to the voice of your LORD your God, and do that which is right in his eyes, and give ear to his commandments and keep all his statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians, for I am the LORD, your healer.” And then it says they came to Elim, where there was an abundance of water and palm trees for shade. God’s instruction was sealed by a luxurious provision, a healing balm from their wilderness hardships and an impetus for their faith, a sign that he would always provide. The Garden of Eden all over again: they were provided for and God gave them a rule to see if they would they would love Him as their God or focus on their creature comforts. The LORD tested their hearts again a little later using food, by providing food for them with instructions for exactly how they should gather it, to see “whether they will walk in my law or not.” Even without knowing the details, you know they flunked. The people quarreled with Moses again at Rephidim, over water—again—and Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the LORD?”
So the LORD tests us to see if we will give ear to his commandments and trust him, whether regardless of circumstances, we will look to him with expectant thanksgiving. Humans test the LORD by challenging his authority, his Godness, and doubting his love.
The LORD’s testing me is good and right, and apart from his provision of a Saviour, I fail.
My testing the LORD is sin.
“Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our sins…” among others, sins of withholding my ears instead of giving them over to his commandments and his healing; sins of lifting up a voice of grumbling and quarreling instead of thanksgiving. The moment of provision is at once the moment of healing and the moment of testing. I have occasion to “give ear” if you will, at least three times a day! And so many more.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Incline My Ear
I have embarked on a new scripture reading project in 2012, reading with antennae up for the themes of listening, hearing, and the sounds of God's voice and ours. I'm glad about what I've already learned. Today the connection between the Psalm and the New Testament portion was humming with sympathetic resonance.
The psalmist prays for God to hear his just cause and attend to his cry, confident that He will: “Incline your ear to me, hear my words.” (Psalm 17:6) Isn't that a beautiful phrase: incline your ear? Active listening, like a plant reaching for the sun.
Jesus closed his parables often with “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” His parable in Matthew 13 is the definitive parable in a sense for his disciples to learn to understand how to hear, and explains why he spoke to the crowds in parables, “because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not understand.” He spoke in terms of these people fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah, which seems to me to indicate that the struggle for humans to hear is the same as it has always been post Eden. “For this people’s heart has grown dull, and with their ears they can barely hear.”
Boy, is that ever true! I am teaching a class for non music majors called The Art of Listening, and Jesus’ parable describes the same four kinds of students I see in my classes two millennia later: the tough ones by the path, for whom nothing I could do would make them care about music or the importance of learning to listen; the ones on rocky soil, who are quick to think various musics are cool, but who “have no root within themselves” so their likes are as quick to change as the wind and they ultimately don’t seem to learn anything; the ones among thorns, who only enjoy learning to listen if they feel good at it or if it requires no work from them, who shrink from any music that is slightly more demanding than their intellects can provide while answering their incessant text messages; and the ones in good soil, of which I am fortunate to have several, who are careful and attentive listeners, ask questions, and are willing to articulate what they hear so it can grow into something others will benefit from.
I find myself praying, “Incline my ear to hear and to attend,” in the face of the ever present danger of my own heart growing dull and unable to hear. I doubt I shall be able to sharpen dull ears if my own are dull, to awaken sleepy students if I myself am dozing off. My confidence rests in His inclining ear.
The psalmist prays for God to hear his just cause and attend to his cry, confident that He will: “Incline your ear to me, hear my words.” (Psalm 17:6) Isn't that a beautiful phrase: incline your ear? Active listening, like a plant reaching for the sun.
Jesus closed his parables often with “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” His parable in Matthew 13 is the definitive parable in a sense for his disciples to learn to understand how to hear, and explains why he spoke to the crowds in parables, “because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not understand.” He spoke in terms of these people fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah, which seems to me to indicate that the struggle for humans to hear is the same as it has always been post Eden. “For this people’s heart has grown dull, and with their ears they can barely hear.”
Boy, is that ever true! I am teaching a class for non music majors called The Art of Listening, and Jesus’ parable describes the same four kinds of students I see in my classes two millennia later: the tough ones by the path, for whom nothing I could do would make them care about music or the importance of learning to listen; the ones on rocky soil, who are quick to think various musics are cool, but who “have no root within themselves” so their likes are as quick to change as the wind and they ultimately don’t seem to learn anything; the ones among thorns, who only enjoy learning to listen if they feel good at it or if it requires no work from them, who shrink from any music that is slightly more demanding than their intellects can provide while answering their incessant text messages; and the ones in good soil, of which I am fortunate to have several, who are careful and attentive listeners, ask questions, and are willing to articulate what they hear so it can grow into something others will benefit from.
I find myself praying, “Incline my ear to hear and to attend,” in the face of the ever present danger of my own heart growing dull and unable to hear. I doubt I shall be able to sharpen dull ears if my own are dull, to awaken sleepy students if I myself am dozing off. My confidence rests in His inclining ear.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Significance, history, beauty, and influence of the KJV: a bibliography
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)
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)
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.
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