+Z’ev

Today’s assigned readings:
1 Samuel 1:1-2,7b-28, Colossians 1:9-20, Luke 2:22-40

He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him.
Colossians 1:13-16

Peter asked me a question on an earlier post over on my other blog.

A question I’ve been harbouring for some time now is, what do you think of Y’shua? Did he exist? What role does he play in your mind, heart, understanding now?

It was the perfect question for me to get in the morning with my coffee. It prompted a heartfelt reply from me, then a further conversation with Peter, via iChat. It also happens to wonder around this claim of Paul’s that Jesus “is the image of the invisible God.”

I’ve edited it all together into the following (which was also posted over there on Sarx):

Yeshua: Rabbi? Yes, who fully participated in the Rabbinic debates of his time. Messiah? I’m confused as I look more into what Jews thought of the text they had. God-in-the-the-flesh? Well now…

So much of the theology I understand, so much of the theology by which I see God, experience the word, deal with my neighbour, understand forgiveness, healing/salvation/wholeness (tikkun olam) is exactly incarnational. I can’t make the leap. If Jesus isn’t God in the Flesh, not only does Christianity not make sense, but so also does nothing else.

I tried to hint at this struggle with the bald theological line “I wonder how a totally transcendent deity can be involved at all.” In fact, this a problem I have w/ Eastern Orthodox theology as well: at times it got so focused on Christ-God that it seemed like Jesus-the-Guy who went through a voice-change and puberty and acne and probably tried to figure out why he suddenly had back hair… This guy gets lost in all the Gold Icons and hymnography.

Right now, I need this guy to help me make sense out of God. For his ability to help me through that, I love him deeply. I can’t imagine life without him. Indeed, I can’t imagine God without him.

Ironically: the God that hairy-backed Rabbi helps me most understand is the God I find in Judaism. Hence my confusion.

The reverse is also true. For Jewish theology, the mitzvah is a sacrament: a connexion not a law, per se. Ignore Paul, and just think high-church sacraments for the time. In the absence of an incarnational God, the question for me is “What is the sacrament connecting with?” When I think of Eucharist I can point to that one rabbi. Connexion.

Put when I drape myself in the sacrament of the Prayer Shawl, what’s the connexion?

Strangely enough, when I try to think in Jewish terms (And I know I’m bad at that) the God that is there, at the other end of the line, isn’t very personal. Or even a person. To my internal radar, it feels (subjective, I understand)… it feels very abstract, impersonal. It’s more like YHVH is an Active Force: so much Not-Like-Human as to be “Thing” in my own vocabulary. It feels very much like the “Eternal Radiant ISness” at the centre of so much Neo-Pagan and New Age theology. It is (as noted in the earlier post) very Reconstructionist: God as “the sum of natural powers or processes that allows mankind to gain self-fulfillment and moral improvement”.

The God I meet in Jesus-the-Rabbi is more like the earthy, Semitic deity I’d expect in Judaism. This God is *not* the God I ran into in Eastern Orthodoxy. That deity was so far above all humanity that proper theology had to make some near-gnostic statements about Jesus’s death. “Well, the Body died… but God the Son didn’t. He was still on the Throne with God the Father… where he always was and always will be…” Argh. No…

God died.
Felt Pain.
Went through puberty. Wet Dreams. Burped. Passed Gas after too much hummus.
Or this isn’t working.

And that Dead, Farting God introduced me to the warm, loving, Semitic deity I expected. Yet Judaism has the warm, homey rituals I’d expect that same deity to have instituted. Hellenic Christianity does not - although it picked up some from various cultures that it has passed through. These rites are simply folk-ways; the Official Rite is all Cold. In Judaism the folk-ways ARE the religion. The rites are incarnational in one, the deity is in the other.

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
AM: Zephaniah 3:14-20, Titus 1:1-16, Luke 1:1-25
PM (Christmas Eve): Isaiah 59:15b-21, Philippians 2:5-11

There are also many rebellious people, idle talkers and deceivers, especially those of the circumcision; they must be silenced, since they are upsetting whole families by teaching for sordid gain what it is not right to teach. It was one of them, their very own prophet, who said, “Cretans are always liars, vicious brutes, lazy gluttons.” That testimony is true. For this reason rebuke them sharply, so that they may become sound in the faith, not paying attention to Jewish myths or to commandments of those who reject the truth. To the pure all things are pure, but to the corrupt and unbelieving nothing is pure. Their very minds and consciences are corrupted. They profess to know God, but they deny him by their actions. They are detestable, disobedient, unfit for any good work.
Titus 1:10-16

It’s interesting to me that this reading comes up today: why, on the week before Christmas, would even the reasonably centrist liturgical folk who made the Episcopal Church’s lectionary (back in the 1970s) pick a reading that urges the silencing of “especially those of the circumcision”?

John Chrysostom notes that this is an urging for bishops to silence those who teach heresy.

For if he has undertaken the office of a Teacher, and is not able to combat these enemies, and to stop their mouths who are so shameless, he will become in each case the cause of their destination who perish.

In addition to the traditional view that Paul wrote this letter, the wiki cites the critical view:

The Pastoral epistles are widely regarded by contemporary scholars as being pseudepigraphical. On the basis of the language and content of the pastoral epistles, many scholars today doubt that they were written by Paul, and believe that they were written after his death. Critics examining the text fail to find its vocabulary and literary style similar to Paul’s unquestionably authentic letters, fail to fit the life situation of Paul in the epistles into Paul’s reconstructed biography, and identify principles of the emerged Christian church rather than those of the apostolic generation.

Those scholars who consider Titus to be pseudepigraphical date the epistle from the 80s up to the end of the 2nd century.

That later date makes sense to me given the strong words. But it may make sense to others to have Paul, himself, say these words. Fr P.N. Tarazai makes a point that even if the pastoral letters are pseudepigraphical, this was a common enough practice for students and disciples to write letters in the name of their teacher. My only reply to that claim - which he uses to justify what moderns would consider forgeries - is that none of the Apostles wrote letters in the name of Jesus. But, ok… Be this Paul or a forgery (or a nameless disciple’s perfectly acceptable pseudepigraphical work) the thing is in our Bible now and, lo, we need to shut the teachers of heresy up. And fast. Especially the Jews.

I think it’s interesting to get this reading today for a personal reason as well.

Yesterday, in response to what I thought was one of my better postings, I received an anonymous and abusive comment (and, depending on how you read it, it’s also anti-semitic). My normal policy is not to accept anonymous comments from readers I don’t know (which is to say I know the source of every pseudepigraphical posting). But this comment was annoying - and, I think, echoes the author of Titus in a way that urges reply. Using rather childish language - I assume the author has issues with English as a second language, or else is a teenager - I was told “Please become a Jew because you suck as a Christian.”

“especially those of the circumcision; they must be silenced”

Of course one of the problems, here in the 21st century, is to decide what is heresy. We can use the Orthodox model, the Roman Catholic one, the Evangelical one, the liberal mainline Protestant one, and most all of these are mutually exclusive (although inclusive enough, each in their own way).

But that’s not what I want to look at.

No matter how you define heresy, Why do we treat heretics this way?

I’m one to talk: I ditched an entire denomination once, and all my friends, in the hopes of finding doctrinal purity. Oddly enough I found better forgiveness and love among those whom I’d ditiched than among the doctrinally pure. I posted as much, this morning, at a blog asking “Why are you no longer Eastern Orthodox?“

Well there are theological excuses and debates possible on both side, “by their love you shall know them.” I fled ECUSA seeking all the usual things - “the church” and “true theology”. But ultimately I found that on the whole - at least in the tiny corner of the EO within my reach - it was the heretics and schismatics who showed more love more forgiveness and charity to each other, to others, to outsiders, to insiders.

I know there are other places where EO functions differently. I’ve seen them online. But they are rare.

But even so, among the liberal folks, there is a tendency to ditch the conservatives. There are Anglican websites where conservatives are treated as pariahs.

To be certain, there are problems in other communities. I noted to one commentator on my other blog that I know of this problem in Wiccan communities, and she pointed it out in Jewish Communities as well. It seems that many of us are just human beings.

The general attitude among Christians, left or right, is “well, cool. Good bye. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” Titus shows us it’s been a pretty common problem for a long while.

Why?

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
Amos 6:1-14, 2 Thessalonians 1:5-12, Luke 1:57-68

I’ve been learning to knit - primarily to make gifts. I don’t have enough attention to hold an entire project for very long: scarves, hats - yes. But sweaters? Probably not. The other benefit is that when I crochet my arthritis acts up whereas when I knit my hands are fine. It’s also pretty addictive for someone with my kind of brain: I’m fascinated by the idea that a knitted scarf (for example) is essentially one long line bent over and over on and through itself by the instrument of these two needles. Weaving uses many threads brought together in a pattern to make a cloth but knitting (and, in a different way, crochet) uses one long thread. Today, as we pick up John’s story - beginning our pass from “Prepare for the End of the World Advent” to “Prepare for Christmas Advent” - I’m wondering how good a metaphor for all of this we might find in knitting.

Wondering about this is a historical issue, partly: Weaving is a very ancient craft, largely unchanged (even as it was mechanised) over time; where knitting, at least as we practice it, is unknown until the after the 10th century of the current era. If it had been known earlier, I wonder if it would have shown up in the ancient legends.

These images of the Weaver of the fabric of life or the Spinner of fates are more common in the pagan world: but these ideas are also show up in Judaism and Christianity. God is depicted as a weaver in Isaiah, albeit only briefly. The image of the “tread of life” also shows up in the Tanakh. Part of this may be that Weaving is seen as women’s work. I wonder if there was a taboo in Judaism against depicting the Holy One that way (for God creativity does show up as a potter - men’s work).

But the idea of God as Knitter interests me…

We know the story of John as presented to us in Luke. An angle came to John’s Father, Zechariah, six months before that angle was sent to Mary. The priest did not believe the angel and so was struck dumb. Still, Zechariah and his wife conceived despite their advanced age. When the baby was born, as recounted in today’s lesson, no one wanted to accept Elizabeth’s word that they should name him John. But Zechariah intervened (in writing) and was suddenly given the power to speak.

What always strikes me about this story is the similarities it has to Jesus own story (as also presented in Luke). It is as if John not only a forerunner but also a prefigurement. John seems to be relegated (by Luke) less to the roll of a prophet and more to that of a literary device. It is as if John was known by Luke’s readers and the Gospel tries to piggyback on that story.

John does seem to have got a better deal from Jewish history than Jesus: according to the Wiki, he shows up in Josephus:

Now some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod’s army came from God, and that very justly, as a punishment of what he did against John, that was called the Baptist: for Herod slew him, who was a good man, and commanded the Jews to exercise virtue, both as to righteousness towards one another, and piety towards God, and so to come to baptism; for that the washing [with water] would be acceptable to him, if they made use of it, not in order to the putting away [or the remission] of some sins [only], but for the purification of the body; supposing still that the soul was thoroughly purified beforehand by righteousness.

It’s a little different from the Gospel view, of course. But this report also shows up in the Jewish Encyclopaedia where John is credited with starting the “Christian Movement”. This view of John as founder or, at least, initiator-of-ideas is also common among some in modern Biblical criticism.

John Dominic Crossan is cited in the wiki article as saying

“John had a monopoly, but Jesus had a franchise.” To get baptized, Crossan writes, you went only to John. Stopping the movement meant only stopping John. His movement ended with his death. Jesus invited all to come and see how he and his companions had already accepted the Government of God, entered it and were living it. Such a communal praxis was not just for himself, but could survive without him, unlike John’s movement.

In this view, Jesus finds a way to expand the teachings of John to include the Gentiles and to make others active agents. Previously you had to send everyone to John, but Jesus breaks with John in that he empowers others to act as he acts. I admit to being uncomfortable with that idea as I want, if I am a follower of Jesus, to be be following him and not imagine simply that he is following someone else. But Crossan’s image of Jesus as a franchise agent fits well with my idea of God as knitter.

A knitter uses the same stitches over and over again: in the most simple form, it’s just a loop. And here we have a row of loops and the next row of loops - 100% identical - are place in the preceding row. Then the next row are placed in this row. It looks the same, over and over, yet, according to the yarn, and according to the colours of the dye, a complex pattern is created. Some times - and with out much difficulty - a given row may be made wider or narrower simply by dropping or adding loops. But basically the pattern is repeated over and over. In more-complex stitching the same yarn is still used it is simply used differently in each row. The result is a long and beautiful material far more complex and flexible than you might imagine given that it all contains only one line.

In this image, the stories of John and the other Prophets become not simply a foreshadowing of Jesus, but rather all, part of one long, complex project. John’s story is not simply a literary device, but also the row before Jesus and so also Paul and the Apostles are not just another story yet again, but also part of the same complex project. And most recently our generation.

But it’s not enough to see row upon row, as if the warp and weft were different threads, as if anything could be added at anytime. The pattern is more or less complex, as the artisan decides, but we are all still one long line, one people, one human (as the Fathers taught) or even one Adam (as the Jewish Mystics taught) before God.

John becomes for us another part of the pattern. We become, for John, another part of the pattern. Jesus, too, is stitched in, as are all others.

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
Amos 1:1-5,13-2:8, 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11, Luke 21:5-19

Thus says the Lord: For three transgressions of Damascus, and for four, I will not revoke the punishment…
Amos 1:3a

My friend, Leesy, commented on Thursday’s post, “Pre-Advent End of Time prophesy readings are tough.” She’s right: and today’s set especially.

Anglican tradition focuses not only on the First Coming of Jesus during Advent, but on the final coming. Look at the Collect (Prayer) for today which, by tradition, is also read on every day until Christmas:

Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

It commemorates the first coming, yes, when “Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility”. But there’s no time for manger scenes and trees and snow - and certainly no time to run to Best Buy or Wal*Mart - because the focus immediately jumps to “the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead”. We skip right over “Glory to God in the Highest” and land at the Last Trumpet. (The focus shifts the closer we get to Christmas.)

I don’t know enough about Church liturgy off the top of my head to know why the Anglican focus is so. I suspect it is something akin to the Reformers (Cramner et al) not wanting Christmas to be so very much fun. But what the heck: we go with what we have.

This Passage from Amos is NOT very comforting and I’m only going to sketch a hint of a comment because in these days one can’t be too crystal clear.

Each Gentile country mentioned is accused of a gross injustice:

Damascus has “threshed Gilead with threshing sledges of iron”.
The Ammonites have “ripped open pregnant women in Gilead in order to enlarge their territory”.
Moab has “burned to lime the bones of the king of Edom”.

And God promises some seriously severe retribution.

But then comes Israel’s accusation:

“they sell the righteous for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals— they who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth, and push the afflicted out of the way; father and son go in to the same girl, so that my holy name is profaned; they lay themselves down beside every altar on garments taken in pledge; and in the house of their God they drink wine bought with fines they imposed.” (Verses 6b-8)

After all the rape and pillage that the others did… Israel’s mere oppression of the poor (without killing them) must seem pretty petty and small. God, however, knows that he has commanded Israel to care for the poor, to deal justly in business, to be pure. God commanded Israel to love their neighbour. To whom much is given - the covenant, a land, a temple, etc - much is expected.

We shall hear of their punishment tomorrow - and all week. And the other readings in this season are equally as comforting.

How much more does God expect of Israel because they ought to know better! The Torah makes it clear - Justice, Righteousness and Love - these should be the hallmarks of a people who claim the Law of God as the foundation for their country.

How much worse will it be for a country that claims the Law of God as a foundation for its laws… and yet commits not only injustice such as Israel, but also the rape, empire building and murder like the other countries of Amos’ prophecy? Seen the news today?

Economic chaos? Revolution? Bombs? Insurgency? Plague? Loss of Power? Riots?

We should be so lucky that God would have that much mercy.

To be clear, I am not 100% sure in my faith: I don’t know how much hand God takes in the affairs of men and their nations, despite what the Jewish and Christian Traditions say. But I am sure that, should God be the sort who meets out Judgement on nations, we should duck.

Happy Advent.

Much love,

Huw

Today’s assigned readings:
Isaiah 19:19-25, Romans 15:5-13, Luke 19:11-27

But the citizens of his country hated him and sent a delegation after him, saying, “We do not want this man to rule over us.”
Luke 19:14

The Wiki says: A similar parable, called The Parable of the Minas or The Parable of the Pounds is found in the Gospel of Luke 19:12-27, the main difference being that the master entrusted his servants with equal amounts, and that a mina was of much less value than a talent. And I did notice that, yes. It is curious that there are ten people each given one “Mina” or “pound” as the NRSV says. It is also curious that of the ten, only three report - and their reports are the same as found in the Matthew text. Nothing but stylistic differences there.

I was, however, intrigued by the two verses that have to do with these citizens who “do not want this man” as their king.

The response to them comes in verse 27: “But as for these enemies of mine who did not want me to be king over them—bring them here and slaughter them in my presence.”

Shudder.

It would be easy for us to get into a discussion of “these enemies”. Does Jesus allow himself to have enemies? Does Jesus ever seem the sort to have people slaughtered in front of him - for his enjoyment, revenge or to induce fear in others? Is the Lukan Community suffering from a little anti-Semitism? Is this a story about Jesus “going away” after his Resurrection and coming back for judgement? (Btw: have you noticed that these last two weeks we’ve been getting Advent readings both in the daily office and in the Sunday Eucharist?) I think it would be easy and interesting to get into any of these questions about this parable. I don’t know if there are any comfortable answers to these questions.

But what about these Citizens? And how does any of this answer the supposition in verse 11 - “they supposed that the kingdom of God was to appear immediately”?

Although it’s hard for a Christian to sort out (because of my preconceived notions) this parable is formulated to answer the Jewish assumption that the Messiah-son-of-David would establish God’s Kingdom at that time and place. The coming of the Messiah will mean

• Ingathering of the Exiles of Israel • End to Evil and Sins • Awareness and Knowledge of G-d • Universal Worship of G-d • Universal Peace and Harmony • Resurrection of the Dead • Blissful Utopia: End to Disease and Death

To these, Jews today add “Restoration of the Bet Hamikdash (the Temple in Jerusalem)”

The as the Jewish argument (post-Easter) against Jesus developed, it seems to have always included the idea that if Jesus had been the Messiah, “he would have fulfilled the Messianic prophecies mentioned in Tanach. For instance, the Moshiach (Messiah) will bring about universal peace and tran quility: “And they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more” (Isaiah 2:4). The Moshiach will bring about universal respect for G-d, and lead all people to follow His ways: “The knowledge of G-d will fill the earth. The world will be filled with the knowledge of G-d as the water covers the sea” (Isaiah 11:9). He will cause an ingathering of the Jewish exiles: “Then the residue of his brethren shall return with the children of Israel” (Micha 5:2) and will bring about the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdosh:. “In that day will I raise up the Tabernacles of David that is fallen” (Amos 9:11). He will also bring physical cure to all who are sick: “Then the eye of the blind will be opened, and the ears of the deaf will be unstopped. Then the lame man will leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb will sing” (Isaiah 35:5-6). Furthermore, he will accomplish these tasks within his own lifetime: “He shall not fail or be crushed until he has set the right in the earth” (Isaiah 42:4).”

The retelling of our parable in Today’s Gospel would seem to be an answer to them.

How?

What is the answer offered?

There are two parts: the first, the body of the parable, is the essence of Christian teaching on the subject. Do your work and pay no attention to anyone else. As St Paul says, “Work out your salvation…” “Run the race…”, “press on for the prize…”, etc. Worrying about what others are doing (or even worrying about what the King will say when he gets back) is not conducive at all. We are each called to our tasks and we need to get about them.

The second part of the answer is an application of this teaching: rather than do the work they were expected to do, the “Citizens of his country” decided they would complain about the package: we don’t want this man to rule over us”. Well, clearly, that had already been decided. So, instead of continuing to work out their salvation, they were complaining.

Once again it would be easy for us to get into a whole passel of questions about Christian anti-Semitism or Jewish understanding of Biblical Prophecy, but I don’t think that’s where we need to go.

Isaiah’s passage offers a vision of Israel, Egypt and Assyria all worshipping God. What Isaiah would have known as Assyria (by the 8th century BCE) would have included Iran and Iraq and much of the today’s Middle East (focusing towards the Mediterranean father than the Persian Gulf). I want to see Isaiah’s prophecy as looking beyond such a time. Until the Muslim Conquests of the northern Middle East, there were rich and vibrant Christian communities in what was the Northern Assyrian Empire, as well as in Egypt. And then Muslims to the area, then Christians again, then Muslims again. And they both live there now in uneasiness. And Israel in the middle: possibly Isaiah sees a time when Jews, Christians and Muslims might worship in peace, focusing on the one God that is Our Father in all three faith traditions - instead of focusing on each other’s differences (which leads us down the wrong road, as in Jesus’ Parable).

Paul says the Messiah will be a sign of hope to the Gentiles! My questions about theology lead me to wonder if it matters how the gentiles perceive him (as a prophet in Islam or as God’s Incarnation in Christianity) but we are united in Messiah to the Jewish people.

Or we can keep bickering with each other. If you want.

Much love,

Huw