Too many of our worship songs are more about us than God. [... We] praise God for holding us close, for keeping us secure, for making us feel loved and blessed and forgiven and warm and cozy in our electric blanket of eternal security (with a warm comforter of national security thrown in too). We congratulate God on how well God is meeting our needs. When we say, “You’re such a good God,” it sometimes sounds like comforting words spoken to a pet.

– Brian McLaren, Christianity Today (2004)

“Election is not about who gets to go to heaven; election is about who God chooses [...] to bring healing to the world.”

– Brian McLaren, Christianity Today (2004)

The quote is from the essay “Evil and God”, published in the book God in the Dock:

Divine reality is like a fugue. All His acts are different, but they all rhyme or echo to one another. It is this that makes Christianity so difficult to talk about. Fix your mind on any one story or any one doctrine and it becomes at once a magnet to which truth and glory come rushing from all levels of being. Our featureless pantheistic unities and glib rationalistic distinctions are alike defeated by the seamless, yet ever varying, texture of reality, the liveness, the elusiveness, the intertwined harmonies of the multi-dimensional fertility of God.

The Wheelers are trapped in a milieu of stifling conformity, he commuting daily amid a crush of cattle in gray flannel to earn their bread, she tied tight in an apron at home, baking it.

A nicely turned sentence, I thought.

Continuing the discussion of Matthew’s appropriation of OT scripture as prophecies fulfilled in Jesus Christ, we turn to these exegetical questions found in yesterday comic section of the newspaper. The passage in question come from Matthew 2.16-18 (REB):

When Herod realized that the astrologers had tricked him he flew into a rage, and gave orders for the massacre of all the boys aged two years or under, in Bethelem and throughout the whole district, in accordance with the time he had ascertained from the astrologers. So the words spoken through Jeremiah the prophet were fulfilled: “A voice was heard in Rama, sobbing in bitter grief; it was Rachel weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they were no more.”

The fulfilled passage in question is from Jeremiah 31.15 and in its original context has nothing to do with Jesus, Herod or the slaughter of young children. William Barclay describes the situation as this:

Jeremiah was picturing the people of Jerusalem being led away in exile. In their sad way to an alien land they pass Ramah, and Ramah was the place where Rachel lay buried (1 Samuel 10:2); and Jeremiah pictures Rachel weeping, even in the tomb, for the fate that had befallen the people.

Remember that Rachel was the mother of Joseph and Benjamin; Ramah was located in the area allotted to Benjamin, just north of Jerusalem. The NET Bible has this further note:

Ramah is a town in Benjamin approximately five miles (8 km) north of Jerusalem. It was on the road between Bethel and Bethlehem. Traditionally, Rachel’s tomb was located near there at a place called Zelzah (1 Sam 10:2). Rachel was the mother of Joseph and Benjamin and was very concerned about having children because she was barren (Gen 30:1-2) and went to great lengths to have them (Gen 30:3, 14-15, 22-24). She was the grandmother of Ephraim and Manasseh which were two of the major tribes in northern Israel. Here Rachel is viewed metaphorically as weeping for her “children,” the descendants of Ephraim and Manasseh, who had been carried away into captivity in 722 b.c.

Whether Rachel was weeping for Jerusalem (Barclay) or the northern kingdom tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh (NET) is evidently disputable, though the latter seems more appropriate. Regardless, we do now have the specific “who”, “where” and “why” that Linus seeks.

We often caution about taking a verse-by-verse view of scripture – applying individual passages to whatever we want by interpreting them outside of context – yet at first blush it seems that this is what Matthew is doing here and elsewhere in this second chapter of his gospel (cf. Matthew 2:15 and Hosea 11:1, Matthew 2:23 and Isaiah 11:1) when he uses the literal words themselves to communicate, outside of original context or metaphorical meaning. Or is there something else here? In comments to my previous post on Matthew, Damian noted that:

Regarding Matthew’s use of the OT, I’m of the school that tends to assume that an OT quote implies the relevance of the entire passage that quote is within. In Matthew, especially early Matthew, this approach works quite well, and so I don’t think he misappropriates prophecy at all.

So we return to Jeremiah and tackle the larger picture. Chapters 30 and 31 fall under a general categorization of promises and hopes for the restoration of Israel and Judah. So while Rachel is weeping in 31.15, the overall trajectory of the passage is positive; keep reading in Jeremiah 31.16-17 (REB):

These are words of the Lord to her [Rachel]:
Cease your weeping,
shed no more tears;
for there will be a reward for your toil,
and they will return from the enemy’s land.
There will be hope for your posterity;
your children will return within their own borders.

In the face of bitter lamentation and exile from wrongdoing, there is the ultimate promise of hope and consolation:

The days are coming, says the Lord, when I shall establish a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. [...] I shall set my law within them, writing it on their hearts; I shall be their God, and they will be my people. No longer need they teach one another, neighbour or brother, to know the Lord; all of them, high and low alike, will know me, says the Lord, for I shall forgive their wrongdoing, and their sin I shall call to mind no more. (Jeremiah 31.31, 33-34 — REB)

Again, these verses were originally specific to the exiled Israelites, but Matthew is surely calling to mind the promises of the covenant for all people, Jew and Gentile alike. That is, Herod has slaughtered the children of Bethlehem and there is much weeping, but like the exiled kingdoms, the Christ has survived and will return (out of Egypt) to establish a new covenant with all people and for all time. If we view Matthew’s scripture quotations in this light, then we perhaps understand that he is telling the gospel story as a massive typological argument, using huge blocks of Hebrew scripture to underpin the good news message of Jesus Christ as the annointed Messiah and fulfillment of all scripture.

The December issue has an article on “The Real King Herod” of Biblical lore and his influence and positive contributions to the architectural layout of Israel. The article, written by Tom Mueller, is centered around Israeli archaeologist Ehud Netzer’s discovery of Herod’s tomb. Embedded in the first paragraph is this quote:

Yet today he is best known as the sly and murderous monarch of Matthew’s Gospel, who slaughtered every male infant in Bethlehem in an unsuccessful attempt to kill the newborn Jesus, the prophesied King of the Jews. During the Middle Ages he became the image of the Antichrist: Illuminated manuscripts and Gothic gargoyles show him tearing his beard in mad fury and brandishing his sword at the luckless infants, with Satan whispering in his ear. Herod is almost certainly innocent of this crime, of which there is no report apart from Matthew’s account.

Scholars have long tried to line up the synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, accounting for the differences and unique items reported. However, how do we approach this claim, that one of the unique items – Matthew’s report of Herod’s killing of the infants and presumably the subsequent flight of Joseph, Mary and Jesus to Egypt – is “almost certainly” false?

In matters of OT concordance, I’ve been using the maxim that the gospels were written after Jesus’ resurrection and subsequent time teaching the disciples and followers “in the whole of scripture the things that referred to himself.” (Luke 24:27) If the gospel accounts were vetted as accurate by the apostolic eyewitnesses within the first century church (cf. Luke 1:1-4), then the accounts we still have today must have their roots in this post-resurrection teaching. However, this presupposes that the events actually happened… or else Jesus was making stuff up!

Now, thanks to a comment from Esteban in a previous post, I’ve become familiar with the case of Bob Gundry, an expelled member of the Evangelical Theological Society. Gundry was expelled from ETS in 1983 for publishing an account of Matthew that claimed that “the four Evangelists, especially Matthew and Luke, have adapted the deeds and words of Jesus to fit the life and experiences of their readers” and that ” in the ‘infancy narratives’ (Matt. 1, 2) and elsewhere Matthew uses a Jewish literary genre called midrash. Like many preachers today, the writer of a midrash embroidered historical events with nonhistorical additions.” (Source) In particular, Gundry claims that Matthew changed the role played by the Jewish shepherds to that of Gentile astrologers in order to better bookend their arrival at Jesus’ birth with Jesus’ final commission that the apostles go to the nations/Gentiles at the ends of the earth.

I’ve not read Gundry myself, so I don’t know the extent of his claims that are based on the scholarly technique known as “redaction criticism.” But I recently speculated that the flight to Egypt might similarly be an allegorical or typological addition to the narrative, especially as Matthew concerns himself with messianic fulfillment of OT prophecy. Which of course then lays bare the question of what prophecy means and how it is fulfilled.

In matters of liberal scholarship, I tend to reference William Barclay. However, that bastion of liberal evangelicalism and skeptic of Jesus’ divinity makes this note:

There is not the slightest need to think that the story of the coming of the Magi to the cradle of Christ is only a lovely legend. It is exactly the kind of thing that could easily have happened in that ancient world. When Jesus Christ came the world was in an eagerness of expectation. Men were waiting for God and the desire for God was in their hearts. They had discovered that they could not build the golden age without God. It was to a waiting world that Jesus came; and, when he came, the ends of the earth were gathered at his cradle. It was the first sign and symbol of the world conquest of Christ. (Matthew, Vol. 1, p. 27)

Barclay goes on to state that Matthew’s use of the quote from Hosea 11:1 in Matthew 2:15 is

typical of Matthew’s use of the Old Testament. He is prepared to use as a prophecy about Jesus any text at all which can be made verbally to fit, even although originally it had nothing to do with the question in hand, and was never meant to have anything to do with it. [...] When we read a passage like this we must remember that, though it seems strange and unconvincing to us, it would appeal to those Jews for whom Matthew was writing. (Matthew, Vol. 1, p. 36)

So on one hand, Barclay accepts the historical accuracy of the Magi’s visit, but also notes Matthew’s tendancy to appropriate prophecy as needed in order “to convince the Jews that Jesus was the promised Annointed One of God”. There is a balance of veracity and verisimilitude – the question is does the balance between the two really matter?

The idea of being spiritual without a social aspect bothers me. The more I study, the more I see the command to love God and to love one’s neighbor as almost identical. This week’s lectionary text, Matthew 25:31-46 (The Sheep and the Goats), brings that more to the fore. Jesus is appearing in the form of people who need my help, and my love for Him is manifested in what I do for them.

Does your faith allow you to do works for other people who need your help, or is it all about you?

Here are some excerpts:

Thirty years of trying to use government to stop abortion, preserve opposite-sex marriage, improve television and movie content and transform culture into the conservative Evangelical image has failed. The question now becomes: should conservative Christians redouble their efforts, contributing more millions to radio and TV preachers and activists, or would they be wise to try something else? [...]

What is the answer, then, for conservative Evangelicals who are rightly concerned about the corrosion of culture, the indifference to the value of human life and the living arrangements of same- and opposite-sex couples? The answer depends on the response to another question: do conservative Evangelicals want to feel good, or do they want to adopt a strategy that actually produces results? [...]

If results are what conservative Evangelicals want, they already have a model. It is contained in the life and commands of Jesus of Nazareth. Suppose millions of conservative Evangelicals engaged in an old and proven type of radical behavior. Suppose they followed the admonition of Jesus to “love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit those in prison and care for widows and orphans,” not as ends, as so many liberals do by using government, but as a means of demonstrating G-d’s love for the whole person in order that people might seek Him?

Thomas concludes:

Evangelicals are at a junction. They can take the path that will lead them to more futility and ineffective attempts to reform culture through government, or they can embrace the far more powerful methods outlined by the One they claim to follow. By following His example, they will decrease, but He will increase. They will get no credit, but they will see results. If conservative Evangelicals choose obscurity and seek to glorify G-d, they will get much of what they hope for, but can never achieve, in and through politics.”

Amen!

* * * * *

Update: thanks to Steve, it appears that the main argument of this article is the same premise as Thomas’ and Ed Dobson’s book, Blinded by Might.

I’ve posted a few times now on the topic of cadence, slowing building some definitions and framing them into the world of Bible translation. I want to mix together some of the definitions previously presented into this single statement:

Cadence is the natural rising and falling of the rhythms created by the spoken word.

With that in mind, *read* the opening phrase from Obama’s acceptance speech last night:

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It’s a long sentence and if you read it, you tend to get lost in the phrases and the punctuation. Yes, Obama spoke slowly and deliberately, but he spoke with rhythm – not reading a book, but speaking.

Now, with the echo of Obama himself in your ear, speak it. Don’t just read it out loud. Speak it with a rhythm that crescendos and withdraws – pause, but speak through the punctuation – don’t stop! Breath if you must but speak it. Do you feel the parallel phrases? Not just read in sequence, but voiced together as one thought.

Obama’s speech is not written to be read. It’s written to be spoken. And there is a world of difference in how we process his English from that of John McCain. Compare these remarks:

In a contest as long and difficult as this campaign has been, his success alone commands my respect for his ability and perseverance. But that he managed to do so by inspiring the hopes of so many millions of Americans who had once wrongly believed that they had little at stake or little influence in the election of an American president is something I deeply admire and commend him for achieving. This is an historic election, and I recognize the special significance it has for African-Americans and for the special pride that must be theirs tonight.

Tremendously gracious in spirit, McCain’s speech was written to be read, preserved, perused at leisure. You cannot *speak* it that same way that Obama’s speech can be. The cadence is literary, not spoken.

Too often, I think, our Bibles have been translated to be read, preserved, perused at our leisure. But the Bible wasn’t written to be read, it was written to be spoken. It was written to be read with “the natural rising and falling of the rhythms created by the spoken word.”

Let’s look again at Obama’s speech – this time through the lens of the NLT:

Does anyone still doubt that America is a place where all things are possible? Does anyone still wonder if our founders’ dreams are alive today? Does anyone still question our democracy’s power? If so, tonight is your answer.

Same thoughts, many of the same words – totally different cadence. Can you read it the same way? I suggest that you cannot. And this is why the NLT is a wonderful written translation in idiomatic English, but it fails where the KJV does not. The KJV captures the rhythm of the spoken word. Not written words.

I voiced the question in one of my last posts whether a translation could speak with the modern vocabulary of the NLT, but the cadence of the KJV. Look at Obama’s words. They are not massive multi-syllabic testimonies to a thesaurus. They are simple, plain, hand hewn. So too the NLT. Yet I listen to Barack Obama and I hear the KJV. Not because he speaks with archaic 17th-century language, but because the cadence of his speech is born out of a spirit of drama, conflict and poetry. Natural rhythm and cadence.

Why not too the Word of God?

For over forty years, the Revised Standard Version has been widely thought of as the best English version one could read. In spite of an occasional oddity in translation, and the somewhat lusterless idiom that overlays it, the RSV has remained the most reliable and “safest” English translation of the Bible on the market. It has proved to be both an advantage and a disadvantage that the truly remarkable collection of scholars who produced the original RSV were under the mandate to “revise” the King James or Authorized Version of 1611, not to produce an altogether new translation. And now a different RSV Bible committee has provided the church with what will become the RSV’s successor-the New Revised Standard Version, to be known as the NRSV. This just published work is, except on one major point, a remarkable achievement. The committee and its tireless chair, Bruce M. Metzger, are to be congratulated and thanked.

The NRSV has left behind the King James cadences (largely maintained in the RSV, but no longer representing current idiom), while still remaining essentially a revision of what has been called the “noblest monument of English prose.” The Authorized Version was the Bible of the English-speaking church for over three hundred years, and, in a sense, through the NRSV, it still is-not in details of translation, and not in its rhythms, but in its basic vocabulary. Illustration: The Authorized Version of John 13:31 reads: “Now is the Son of man glorified.” The RSV repeats that verbatim, though that is not the way we would say it. The NRSV, however, puts it in our idiom: “Now the Son of Man has been glorified.” The vocabulary is still King James; the cadence is ours.

The idiom of the NRSV is consistently our own, rather than something inherited, vaguely or verbatim, from the KJV. For example, in the RSV of John 11:8 we read: “The Jews were but now seeking to stone you”-hardly contemporary English; but the NRSV reads: “The Jews were just now trying to stone you.” With this kind of change, carried out consistently throughout the entire Bible, the NRSV presents us with a major shift into contemporary English. At the same time, it also preserves what has remained through the centuries the characteristic English translation of the Bible, by maintaining, wherever possible, the basic vocabulary of the KJV. That is no small achievement. (p.281)

In contrast, the author goes on to note that the REB’s predecessor, the NEB, “broke entirely from the KJV, using few of its distinctive words, expressions, or rhythms. It remains the base of the REB, but the latter makes substantial changes throughout” and “is fresh, vibrant, and imaginative, giving us a new way of seeing, unfettered by the literary garb in which the biblical text is customarily clothed. It offers English-speaking readers an alternative to the NRSV, a different, reliable way of hearing the text that will further illuminate the mysteries of the Word of God.” (p.287, 289)

It is the different mixes of vocabulary, cadence and tradition in translation that have spurred my interest in the English Bible over the past year and they remain at the heart of what I hope to write about.

Finally, Throckmorton’s concluding thought:

Translation is truly an impossible art. It must be done, but there is no final way of doing it. And, so, it must be redone, again and again. To mix two quotations: God has more truth and light yet to break forth out of God’s holy Word than this world dreams of. God be praised for all those who, through their devotion to the study of holy Scripture, make it ever more clearly a lamp to our feet and a light to our path.