Comments on Jeremiah and Ezekiel

Comments on Jeremiah, Ezekiel 

Biblical Literacy, pages 172-17

May 13, 2012

Rev. Richard Rohr, in his daily meditations for April 29 and 30, 2012, writes about the world, the flesh and the devil as sources of violence in our contemporary society as they were in all of past history.   In dealing with the world, Father Rohr reminds us that this one is the most invisible.  We are almost entirely focused on the flesh and individual “sin.”   

It is much more difficult to see the evil in our culture and our establishments and our systems.  This is what the prophets were good at, and probably why they are and were mostly ignored.  Jeremiah hated this role.  He knew God chose him for it, but that didn’t keep him from disliking what he had to say and do.  Everyone considered him unpatriotic because he was calling into question what the society at that time felt was the only way to speak and act.  

An article on global warming and “The Climate Fixers” by Michael Specter in the May 14 issue of The New Yorker reminds us of the relevance of these two prophets.   Depending on which political party you follow, the effects of CO2 emissions on the planet are either to be dismissed or are dire prophecies of the end of the world as we know it.    Still, the New Yorker article introduces several people and organizations that are working on solutions to global warming, and offer some reason for hope.

And both Jeremiah and Ezekiel offer hope-- Ezekiel in his famous passage concerning the dry bones.  Believers throughout the ages have placed their hope in the Lord, and have put this hope against all the doomsayers of every age.  

However, that does not mean that we do nothing, and simply let causes of global warming go unchallenged.  In our American culture which is based on capitalism, it may be the religious people who have to call attention to the evils that capitalism can allow, and be the people who say NO, even when profits and shareholders and boards do not permit corporations to control their emissions nor their seeking for greater income. 

Comments on Canticle of Canticles and Isaiah

Comments on Canticle of Canticles, Isaiah

Biblical Literacy, pages 161-172

April 29. 2012

Barbara Brown Taylor, in her book An Altar in the World, encourages practices of prayer and meditation that are NOT abstract and in some ideal place, but are feeling the dirt between your toes and hearing the birds sing and relishing every gritty detail about being on this earth.

Eckhart Tolle, in The Power of Now, encourages meditation that goes into the body.  He advises such techniques as listening to the silence between sounds, or following the sound of a bell into silence, or following your breathing into the body.  The idea, of course, is to quiet the mind and the ego so that there is space for the present, the now, and the divine.

The Canticle of Canticle is a perfect book for getting into the body.  There is a whole history of interpretations of this book, from the first time it was acknowledged as part of Scripture.  Interpreters were quick to create an allegorical and a mystical interpretation, to get away from its flagrant eroticism and so to interpret it as a dialogue between God and Israel or between Christ and the Church.  After all, there is a biblical history of understanding God’s relationship with humans as similar to the relationship between a bride and a bridegroom.   --Because, whenever we say ‘love,’ we are raising implications of romantic, physical love. 

Barbara Brown Taylor has a shocking passage about this (p. 38).  She relates a conversation with a fellow minister about attraction and spiritual intimacy with God.  The union with God is very, very similar on our human level to that between a husband and wife, with that idealized sexual love in this marvelous book called the Canticle of Canticles.
 

It may be a relief to turn the page from the Canticle and arrive in the Bible at the Prophet Isaiah, except that he, too, acknowledges our fleshly humanness, even in writing these lines which Christians have long understood as referring to Jesus and his Mother:  “…the virgin shall be with child, and bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel” (7:14).    Sex is how we continue to live, to populate the world, and to experience one of the greatest pleasures and closeness this world has to offer.  Isaiah could be considered implying that it is the way the divine enters the world. 

The mystics, the enlightened contemplatives, acknowledged this and were able to integrate it into their spirituality.  They could look at a picture of St. Teresa of Avila in ecstasy and understand the physicality of it without being thrown.  They had come to a place where the physical and the divine were no longer opposites.  They could imagine God as spouse, lover, embracing, kissing and becoming one.   They could hold us, as Isaiah did, to the necessity of seeking, holding, and loving God. 

Comments on Proverbs, Ecclesiastes

Comments on Proverbs, Ecclesiastes

Biblical Literacy, pages 152-161

April 22. 2012

These two books offer many temptations: for example, to discuss the pros and cons of spanking as a form of discipline; or to expound on the dangers of taking every word of Scripture literally as if it were addressed to us in 2012 directly by God; or to take Proverbs at least as a rule book, as if we were a CPA and got the tax book dumped in our laps with the injunction: “Learn this and you won’t be penalized.”

Some cultures have a lot of proverbs. German is certainly one of them. I still remember a few, such as “Arbeit macht das Leben suess” (“Work makes life sweet”) which comes perilously close to the saying over Auschwitz in Poland and other concentration camps: “Arbeit macht frei” (“Work makes one free”). Surely the placing of this proverb is an example of how a positive sounding sentence can be converted into something ideologically and morally perverse.

Can you live your life by proverbs? What can you do with a proverb such as “The early bird catches the worm?” It surely states a truth that can be used to educate, say, a young person who insists on sleeping in every morning and coming late to school?

The structure of the book of Proverbs seems to indicate that their purpose WAS education, either as passages of instruction or as one or two-line statements. A father is addressing a child; an elder a young initiate. The book fits right in with Rev. Richard Rohr’s contemporary writings on the first half and the second half of life.

In the first half of life, we all need rules and discipline. Without training and structure, the rest of our life is a mess. We have no foundation to stand on, to jump from. In the second half of life, we have less need of rules. Hopefully, we can come to some of the wisdom we read about in these two books of the Bible.

One question educators ask is whether wisdom is transferable. Information can be passed on; facts learned; skills acquired. But wisdom? Can quoting a proverb to someone have a positive effect? Or do we have to have the experience to lead us to say when we hear a proverb: Yes! That’s right! I know that to be true. But surely there’s no harm in trying one out—to try getting up early to see if the old proverb is true for us, or whether another hour of sleep makes us much more efficient.

Generations and generations have believed in passing along wisdom and virtue to the young. The old McGuffey Readers were full of stories with a moral. The morality plays were the same, and when novels were first written, people were scandalized when the good guys didn’t win. Some of us would like to find a way back to that culture—when values seemed shared by the majority and bad behavior was uniformly condemned instead of justified by a kind of unstated proverb: If everyone does it, it must be okay. Or: it’s okay if you don’t get caught.

The Old Testament is certainly not valueless. The stories make it clear that there are consequences for actions and that bad behavior does not go unpunished.

But all of this can’t distract us from Jesus’ message in these Sundays after Easter: God loves us. He knows we’re not perfect. He gives the same wages to those who start late. He is the paradigm of one who knows how to forgive. And He ends up being our true Wisdom!

Comments on the Psalms

Comments on Psalms 22, 23, 51, 88, 131, 137

Biblical Literacy, pages 142-152

April 15. 2012

It is fitting that after Lent and Easter, we allow ourselves to attend the concert of songs which are the Psalms. We read the story of the Passion of Jesus from Mark’s Gospel this year, and echoes of Psalm 22 rang in our ears when the soldiers divided his garments and especially when Jesus began to pray the first verse of this psalm in his agony: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This verse has come to be known as the “Fourth Word” from the Cross, although for Mark and Matthew it is the ONLY word.

John has references to Psalms 69 and 34 in his account of the Passion, both referring to thirst.

These references confirm Dr. Beal’s point that “The Psalms give voice to the tremendous depth and breadth of human experience… “( p. 144). The Alleluias of Easter are there, too, and great hope, confidence and joy. If we were to “sing to the Lord a new song” every day, some people would use the psalms, picking one that matches their life situation, their need, their fear, or their heart’s being full of thanksgiving and joy.

The psalms have not lost their popularity. Although some books of the bible are read and preached about infrequently, something of the Psalms usually finds its way into worship every Sunday. When the Cleveland Ecumenical Institute scheduled a four week course on the Psalms taught by Rabbi Roger Klein, forty people signed up, and we had to close the enrollment because of lack of space! A priest came to hear the Jewish interpretation of the Psalms. Rabbi Klein brought with him the original Hebrew text, intending to use the original language at times to enlighten the understanding of the translation.

Dr. Beal chooses just 6 psalms to include in his book on Biblical Literacy. They are good choices. What mood do they evoke? In 1926, Archibald MacLeish wrote a poem about the nature of poetry, and concluded it with a line that used to be famous: “A poem should not mean, but be!” It was a modernist statement, wanting poems to be like little gems which we could hold up to the light and see the intricacy and ingenuity of their structures as if we were seeing all the colors of the rainbow, dazzling us with their beauty.

That MacLeish quote, however, doesn’t seem to apply to the Psalms at all, and never has. As Dr. Beal points out, they do have intriguing parallel structures, and contain lots of imagery, symbols and analogies. But they are not read for their beauty. Many people might comment on the beauty of a Psalm 23, perhaps the most popular among the 150 songs, but people who know that psalm have held on to its verses with their fingernails when their lives seemed destined to drown in the shadows of this life’s darkest valleys.

The Resurrection convinces believers that we can get THROUGH those dark times, and come out with a “new song” on our lips, perhaps that from Psalm 149: “Sing to the Lord a new song of praise…For the Lord loves his people/and he adorns the lowly with victory…Alleluia.”

Comments on the Book of Job, Part 1

The Book of Job is perfect for preparing us for Lent. The issues that it raises are perennial and still unsolved. Job bears thinking about. What does it say to you? Here's a poem I wrote about it some years ago:

JOB

The messengers have told me of the natural
Disasters and incredible fatalities

Which fell upon my properties and oh my dear propinquities

My grown-up sons and daughters and their
Children in their infancies

All taken from me now when I had shored up liabilities
And thought myself the happiest man alive.

I cannot stand more messages nor dreary fearful presages
Though nothing’s left to lift from me except disease’s ravages
And this thin thread of life.

My wife, that shrieking woman,
What a person she has been for me

As if her curses meant for me
Could find their way to God.

My friends, they sit away from me
They cannot stand the stench of me

I see what horror looks like in their eyes.

As long as they sit silently
My spirit bides their sympathy

Especially when surprisingly
Their tears splash all too copiously
Down upon their beards.

But now the waiting gets to them
The terror is too much for them

They’re thrown upon
The doctrine of their youth.

And so they take their turns to speak
And ask me now to face myself

And find within this rottenness
The sin which is the source of it

So they might have the pleasure
Of knowing all along.

Do they think I’ve been oblivious
To every single silliness
And all the indiscretions of my youth?

I have counted and berated
And retold and still negated

Petty jealousies and rivalries
And all the sins of flesh;

Or weighing in my memory
Each babe my wife presented me
To see if I’ve preferred one child too much

But my children, they are gone from me
And who has wrecked this wrong on me?

And what the scales which weigh to me
Such punishment as this?

But when my friends are silent
And I sift through all this misery
As if it holds the very sands of life,

I discover deep inside of me
Through torture and calamity

A deep abiding presence which
I do not understand.

And all the words which come at me
And all the speeches made, you see,

And all the stuff that’s written to explain
This morbid life

Evaporate so rapidly
In the furnace of infinity

For that’s what’s here inside of me
And has been, in my agony;

I see it now, the rest is not
For me to understand.

The message then is not
That God delights in senseless suffering,

But through it all and in it all,
He’s here.

Comments on the Book of Esther

Comments on Esther 1:1-2:18; 3:1-15; 4:1-17; 7:1-10

Biblical Literacy, pages 118-125

It’s hard to believe, isn’t it, that there’s a book in the Bible that doesn’t mention God? The original Hebrew text has no mention of the deity. The translators into the Greek version called the Septuagint, however, added some six passages that do reference God. But the New Revised Standard Version translated from the ancient Hebrew Masoretic text. And so, in our Bibles, there is no reference to God in the Book of Esther.

Purim this year will be celebrated from the evening of March 7 until the evening of March 8. There are several interesting and wonderful Jewish practices surrounding this feast, including fasting from a hour before sunrise until sunset on the day before. Observant Jews will listen to two live readings of the Esther story—one the night of March 7 and one on the day itself. There is the custom of donating to two needy people, and of bringing two dishes of food to a friend (preferably delivered by a third party).

In Jewish schools, the children will dress up, perhaps to commemorate the fact that Esther did not reveal that she was Jewish until the very end. The kids will bring their noisemakers, or gragers, and they will boo and stamp their feet every time the wicked Haman’s name is mentioned in the story. They will eat pastries named after him and have a great time. Their elders will be sure to serve alcohol on Purim and there is an old tale that the ancient rabbis gave everyone permission to drink to excess on Purim.

There are so many fascinating aspects of this story. Why do you think it ended up in the Bible? What parts of the story enthrall you? Is it the ethno-national part—the amazing relationship between the Jews and the Persians—Jews obeying the intransigent Persian law but still keeping a strong sense of their own identities? Is it the transformation of Esther from a young girl who obeys her father into someone willing to marry a gentile, sleep with the king, risk her life for the sake of her people (“if I perish, then I perish”), and finally ends up giving orders to both the King and to her father, Mordecai?

There is a lot going on in this story—not all of it explicit. Only some research will tell you that Haman’s being an Agagite means that he was related to King Agag, leader of the Amalekites, who were longtime enemies of the Israelites. He and Mordecai, leader of the Jews, were set up for conflict by their very ancestry. Both would try to exterminate each other, although the wording of Haman’s edict sounds like genocide, and perhaps the retaliation of Mordecai only sought victory over enemies, not annihilation. Still, in chapter nine, which probably is not read to children, Queen Esther demands her husband hang the ten sons of Haman so their bodies would be subject to public disgrace. These were not pleasant times.

We do much in life with no reference to God. We shop, travel, deal with children, work at our jobs, clean the house, take the car in for maintenance, eat meals, watch TV. Some of us save “God-stuff” for Sundays or funerals. But many commentators through the ages look back on the story of Esther and see God’s hand at work, even if only in the heroics of this beautiful woman. And many of us, looking back on the mundane details of our daily living, can catch a glimpse of a golden thread or of some leather strap to hold onto as life speeds up and lurches around corners. As the wise man puts it: “God comes disguised as our life!”

Comments on Solomon in 1st Kings

Comments on 1 Kings 3:16-28; 4:29-34; 10:1-9; 11:1-8; 18:17-46; 19:1-18; 2 Kings 2:1-14

Biblical Literacy, pages 109-117

There are gifts and then there are the ways we use them. There are gifts and then the way the culture expects us to use them. For example, in a particular culture, leaders are expected to be uncompromising, never wavering in their judgments, always supporting the people who promoted them, and unwilling to upset the way things have been done in the past.

When we were children, and heard the story of a lamp that, when rubbed, produced a genie who would grant us three wishes, we plotted out what OUR wishes would be if we ever found that lamp. Maybe we would ask for more wishes, since three seems like a very small bucket list. God thought Solomon might ask for a long life, the defeat of his enemies, and unimaginable riches. Instead, Solomon asked for right judgment or wisdom, since he admitted he didn’t know how to rule this vast nation called Israel.

So that’s what he received, and the story of the two prostitutes claiming rights to one living baby proved that this king could not be deceived. Moreover, the Scripture continues, God gave him immense wealth and a long life besides. We, interpreting these stories many centuries later, have since equated great wealth with God’s favor. And we interpreted the baby story as a clever ruse to prevent compromise in situations far removed from the horrendous idea of cutting a child in half!

The Queen of Sheba (from today’s Yemen) came to see for herself, and probably wanted to conclude some trade agreements with this new king. Solomon was now in charge of a federation of nations that had to be reckoned with. She was also rendered breathless at the depth of his knowledge. And he did build a glorious temple out of cedar and cypress.

But to follow Solomon’s story to the end in the Book of Kings is to discover that his great wisdom needed to be salted with a LOT more discernment. It must be very difficult to be wealthy and discerning; to be powerful and still ponder carefully the consequences of your actions. It may be nearly impossible to resist the expectations of your culture. The prophets, like Nathan and Elijah and Elisha did that.

Solomon forgot the prohibitions of Deuteronomy 17: 16-17. He took too many wives, even if the number (700 princesses and 300 concubines) was exaggerated to befit his exalted status, and even if many of these unions were necessitated for political alliances. He bought too many horses, constructed an over-the-top golden throne, and worst of all, he married foreigners and constructed altars for his wives to sacrifice to their gods.

So that was the end of the unified kingdom. Will it be the end of our equating wealth with God’s blessings?

Rev. Richard Rohr, in a recent blog ), describes a Jewish prayer that counts up all their gifts, one by one, and then answers each one with a word that he translates as: “How much is it going to take for us to know that God is with us?” Many of us are shy about enumerating our gifts. But if we approach each day listing the wealth of good things within and around us—such as health, our senses, the air we breathe, the friends and family we can count on, the food, and on and on—we can come to a kind of wisdom, a kind of content in the knowledge that the Lord is with us.

If, on the other hand, we dread each day, the idea from wisdom is to look past our fears, our obligations, our illness and pain and worry, and to count instead the one, two, three, or a hundred good things that might truly be called Blessings. And then we can feel we are breathing in the richness of God.