Thursday, June 14, 2007
Led to slaughter
This section contains Luke’s version of the parable of the talents. It’s messier than the version in Matthew 25, so it’s understandable that Matthew has the more well-known version. For instance, in Luke the ruler gives money to 10 slaves, but in the end he gets reports back from just 3. Not clear what happened to the other 7.
Luke also adds a twist. It turns out the people of the country hate the ruler and don’t want him to rule over them. So when he gets back, first he takes care of rewarding the servants who invested and chastises the one who wrapped up the money in cloth. The ones who invested get assigned to rule over 10 and 5 cities. The guy who buried the money has to give it to the one who made 10 pounds. “Them that’s got shall get.” But Luke’s version involves a bunch of bystanders, who exclaim “Lord he has ten pounds” when this decision comes down. A little Greek chorus that isn't exactly following what the protangonist is up to.
The ruler goes one step further in Luke, based on the different set up. “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.” It’s one thing to waste the gift, another thing to actively resist the authority of the gift-giver. But the reaction. If the master was cruel in Matthew, Luke amps it up and makes him absolutely bloodthirsty.
This ruler, cruel, reaping what he did not sow, demanding and uncomforting, howling for the blood of his enemies, what an unattractive metaphor for God. Why would God allow himself to be described this way? God comes across like the terrifying deities of Tibetan Buddhism, gods as monsters. Of course, these deities symbolize a spiritual process of destroying the urges and desires of worldly life to achieve spiritual release. A ruthlessness on the plane of spiritual practice is required.
It’s not clear that the vengeful master plays the same metaphorical role at the Tibetan gods, although it is clear that the money stands in for spiritual gifts, God’s love and grace which people can take up as an opportunity to extend grace in the world or squander. Moving outside the parable’s metaphorical realm, into something like concrete life, the investment we are asked to make occurs significantly with our actions towards others. Actually, its not that different from a monetary investment, which occurs by letting someone else use the money.
In terms of the investment of some sort of spiritual gifts, it makes sense to strip God’s grace from the person who does nothing with it, and increase the endowment of a person who extends that grace throughout the human realm—although it’s not clear what that stripping away looks like. I’m not certain God can take away the portion of grace given. When grace is experienced, it has been experienced. He can refuse to renew it, and I guess that slide into a state of non-grace is a condemnation that makes sense in the parable’s terms.
Slaughtering the opponents is harder to reconcile in terms of God’s actions in our world. This application of the ultimate punishment to God’s enemies may just represent the severity of damnation. But it seems unduly bloodthirsty. The ruler wants to see it done, like it’s a kind of entertainment. The undercurrent of sadistic pleasure seems out of character for a God whom we believe would rue the fall of any person. This passage is filled with judgment, very little hint of mercy. God has many dimensions and moods, has all of them, and we have to accept this. You could say that an infinite being will not always be to our liking because He will encompass all facets of human personality. But that takes you down a slippery slope in which God is engaged in evil because it is part of that full range of experience.
This one line never quite resolves itself completely. Every time you think you've straightened out the interpretation, you run into a place where the line still sticks.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Excuse to talk about Gary Snyder
2 Corinthians 10:1-18
Here's one of those "oh-oh" passages, Deut. 30:8-9: "Then you shall again obey the LORD, observing all his commandments that I am commanding you today, and the LORD your God will make you abundantly prosperous in all your undertakings, in the fruit of your body, in the fruit of your livestock, and in the fruit of your soil. For the LORD will again take delight in prospering you, just as he delighted in prospering your ancestors..." It's disappointing to see churches "sell" Christianity as a path to prosperity. Jesus really doesn't offer that--He was more into sell all your possessions and that camel through the eye of a needle business. Then you run across something like this and you say, OK they're looking at different parts. This really cries out for putting God's messages to the people in some sort of social and political context. The chosen people, who have been wandering through the desert, are coming in for their time of wealth, ease, and power in God's scheme.
But my favorite lines from today's lectionary was this from Corinthians:
"Indeed, we live as human beings, but we do not wage war according to human standards; for the weapons of our warfare are not merely human, but they have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every proud obstacle raised up against the knowledge of God, and we take every thought captive to obey Christ."
The rhythms of these lines remind me of Gary Snyder's Smokey the Bear Sutra, and the metaphorical transferences to a realm of spiritual transformation. Here's a few lines:
- Bearing in his right paw the Shovel that digs to the truth beneath appearances; cuts the roots of useless attachments, and flings damp sand on the fires of greed and war;
- His left paw in the Mudra of Comradely Display — indicating that all creatures have the full right to live to their limits and that deer, rabbits, chipmunks, snakes, dandelions, and lizards all grow in the realm of the Dharma;
- Wearing the blue work overalls symbolic of slaves and laborers, the countless men oppressed by a civilization that claims to save but often destroys;
- Wearing the broad-brimmed hat of the West, symbolic of the forces that guard the Wilderness, which is the Natural State of the Dharma and the True Path of man on earth: all true paths lead through mountains—
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Red Dragon
“A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve starts. She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pangs, in the agony of giving birth. Then another potent appeared in heaven: a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on his heads.”
You know, when I said the Bible can be “oddly practical” yesterday, that’s because it also serves up stuff like this. However much effort you want to put into scrutinizing these texts and deciphering them (personally, I’d advise against it), there’s no denying what a spur to the imagination they have been. Where would Blake or Thomas Harris be, or Jan van Eyck (not this passage, but other parts of the book of Revelation)? These portentous, evocative, and elaborate images are part of the Western imaginative DNA. They are alluring, frightening, and beyond comprehension. They point to the possibility of seeing things not yet seen, and of undiscovered meaning, and that makes the world of things we make a richer place.
A 12th century manuscript from
DΓΌrer woodcut from 1497-98
Blake watercolor from 1805
1981
Some say Elijah
1 Kings 17:8-24
Luke 7:11-17
One of the basic structural characteristics of the Christian Bible is the way the Old and New Testament echo and reflect each other. Events in the Old Testament foreshadow the New Testament, or you could say the New Testament engages in a campaign to lay claim and transform the essential elements of the Old Testament – say covenants or commandments – turning Judaism into something different.
These three passages make it clear why people thought Jesus might be Elijah (Mark 8:27-28). In the verses from Kings, Elijah first invokes the power of the Lord to cause a widow’s store of oil and meal to be replenished so she could provide the prophet food and not starve herself and her son. Then the son gets ill and dies, and Elijah calls on the Lord to bring him back to life. Sounds a lot like Jesus’ miracles – in Matthew he performs a food miracle, the loaves and fishes, and in this passage from Luke he calls on the dead son of a widow to rise up from his funeral bier. Of course Elijah calls on the Lord, and Jesus acts on his own behalf. Similar, but transformed.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Money
2 Corinthians 9:1-15
Luke 18:15-30
Wanted to pick back up on the business about first fruits in Deuteronomy. Giving comes up again today in Paul’s letter and in this section of Luke (which covers “let the children come to me,” telling the rich man to sell everything, and the camel through the eye of the needle).
The Bible can be an oddly practical book. There’s a number of passages, OT and NT, that set up the basic economics of the church—giving to the church is a duty of the believer. Ideally one tenth of income, in essence before other costs and taxes. This is presented not simply as something that is practically useful, but also the source of spiritual benefits in itself: 2 Cor 9:7: “Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” In the conversation with the rich man, Jesus keeps raising the stakes. Sell all you have. Leave your house, wife, family.
These points about giving form the core of many stewardship sermons, and it always sounds self-serving coming from the minister. God says pay me. I wonder if ministers could somehow be freed of the obligation to make these pitches, which cannot help but being in part about continuing their own income. If the people are giving because it’s good to give (and let go of attachment to possessions), and because God asks for it, this is an important message that can get obscured by the implicit secondary motives.
One line of thinking I went through on these passages was the impression that Christianity is more concerned than other religions with getting its economics in order, and goes further in embedding considerations for the church’s economics into the theology. As I think about it, I’m not sure that’s right. Direct gifts of money and purchases of food seem to be integral to Hindu devotional practice. Many of the passages on giving come up in the Old Testament, so it’s there for Judaism too. I know Islam requires the giving of alms—I don’t know if passages in the Koran specify the kind of support that should go to the imams and other religious officials. One of the distinguishing features of Wicca is that most of its practitioners stay away from payment for ritual. Of course Wicca is not trying to build a religion in terms of a hierarchy, bureaucracy, and facilities. So it needs less money.
The Bible is a little less clear on what the money needs to pay for. In the Old Testament, it’s clearly going to priests. In the New Testament, it seems to be more for the poor or for mutual support. Pretty early on it seems it was decided that the religion would have priests. I guess that’s a given, most religions are led by specialists. But the descriptions of the early church in Paul sound pretty communitarian. Was it necessarily so that Christianity would have professional spiritual leaders? Human nature is such that people will always emerge to claim that sort of role, but I believe that these forms have more rationale. They have to have a firmer rationale.
Again, the Bible and the religion are practical in certain regards. Spreading the good news was an imperative. Extension of the religion is aided by giving some people the job of building and maintaining organizations. Ministers are not solely responsible for extending the faith, but they do provide structure to the communities of faith and make sure the complicated theology doesn’t get completely screwy as it is passed from one person to the next. There is the idea of different gifts, and identifying a dedicated group of people to serve as ministers is consistent with the idea that some should be preaching the word.
Still, it’s not 100% obvious that having a gift for preaching the word means you should be paid for that. I think in some Mennonite communities the preachers are farmers like everyone else. But you get back to size and reach again. And to the idea that preaching requires great knowledge of the Word and of ancillary writings, all of which require dedicated education and intense ongoing reading and learning. More than an amateur can absorb and keep up with.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Milk and Honey
This section of Deuteronomy has a passage that often cited by Pat McGeachy, the former pastor at Downtown Presbyterian Church: “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.” As I recall, his take was that we are all wandering people, homeless until God brings us in from the wilderness. Something like that.
The main thrust of this passage is the first fruits idea: God gave you this land, so you bring the first fruits of the harvest to the priests. “He brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.” It reminds me of Pete Seeger's version of the Norwegian folk song Oleanna: “When I first came to this land, I was not a wealthy man. But the land was sweet and good, and I did what I could.” I’ve been traveling to 
The phrase “flowing with milk and honey” is strange when you think about it. Honey maybe that’s something you can just walk into a land and find, but milk comes from tending a herd. You don’t walk up to wild goats and get milk from them. And people have been tending hives a long time. No, the riches of the land are opportunity for you to work.
There is another take on this. Deuteronomy 6:10-12 describes the Promised Land as a place the people will conquer and take over, not build up:
“When the Lord your God has brought you into the land that he swore to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give you a land with fine, large cities that you did not build, houses filled with all sorts of goods that you did not fill, hewn cisterns that you did not hew, vineyards and olive groves that you did not plant..”
Maybe the land flows with milk and honey because of the people who were there first. The movement into the Promised Land is obviously a story of conquest, not the pioneer myth – which is really a story of conquest, but we like to think of it as Norwegians showing up in unoccupied acreage divided up into sections and ready for planting. Of course the point is so basic. Everything comes from God, from the force way past you, which allows your work to pay off.
You do have to recognize that the Bible contains a series of displacements, where God chooses to push one people aside and move his chosen people in. Of course, sometimes the tide goes the other way. But I think it is worth remembering the people who were there before, who are often the unspoken reverse side of the triumphs in the Bible. They didn’t deserve what happened to them, any more than the people of
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Where to look
Deuteronomy 17:14-20
Yesterday's Gospel reading includes one of the great statements of collectivism in the Bible: "The Kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, 'Look, here it is!' or 'There it is!' For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you." You could interpret this as simply 'there are some of you out there who have the Kingdom of God' but to me the much more appealing interpretation (and one I've heard from most of my preachers in sermons) is that the Kingdom resides in the spaces between people, in their relationships with one another. Its body is a social body. This passage is the strong case for churches, congregations, denominations, and for people committing themselves to each other over the long haul.
This passage, which says the Kingdom does not come with "things observed," without signs one can point to, it is followed by what? The rapture, of all things! Verses 22-37 start by picking up where these others left off, saying don't follow anyone who says "Look there" or Look here!" Then it runs through cases where some were saved, others destroyed: Noah and the Flood, Lot and Sodom. On the day the Son of Man is revealed, it will be like that. "I tell you, on that night there will be two in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. There will be two women grinding meal together; one will be taken and the other left."
Jesus says there won't be signs, but is there anything that has inspired more sign-reading and Biblical divination than the Rapture? I know some people who have this humorous take that if the Rapture comes, no one will know because the people taken will be few and those will be people not much noticed, like homeless people. Waiting for Tim LaHaye to go missing is not a reliable sign.
The passage ends with the disciples asking where the people will be taken, and he answered "Where the corpse is, there the vultures will gather." So a couple of ways to look at this. The rapture comes with death. Simple as that. Comes when it comes. Or: hasn't the Son of Man
been revealed, in Jesus Christ? So the rapture has come. It's here, among us, as is the Kingdom, Resurrection, grace, and all other good (and bad) things. Maybe the Rapture is more like rapture, that thing that happens to human beings from time to time, say when they listen to great music played, or spend time with their kids, or see their wife just as the light glints in her hair. Maybe there's more to that than we give it credit for. Maybe we shouldn't ask for so much more.
Final poi
nt: I think I have a different take on vultures than I am supposed to. I like the birds. To me they are resurrection machines, turning dead stuff back into life. They also have great social behaviors. They eat together, semi-cooperatively. Sometimes they will just hang out in large numbers, in trees or even in a pasture. I always think they enjoy soaring on updrafts the way they can. And as I understand it they are very doting parents (most birds are). So is it a bad thing to be where they gather?Since this is about yesterday's reading, I'll do one thing from today. Deuteronomy is going through instructions to the people of Israel on how to govern themselves. It talks about how they can set a king over themselves, but he can't be a foreigner (the Brits would have failed that one), and it specifies that he will have a copy of the law written, and so on. Here's the part I enjoyed: "Even so, he (this non-foreign king) must not acquire many horses for himself, or return the people to Egypt in order to acquire more horses..." Yes, I'd say that's a bad idea, appointing a king who is going to return the people to slavery so he can get a new horse. Why did it occur to Jehovah that he had to mention this? Had he had a bad experience with this situation before? It reminds me of a story my mother tells on me--when I was a kid, I stuck some beans up my nose and she had to take me to doctor (I think). She says "I never thought to tell him not to stick beans up his nose." I guess this is a story about how creative leaders can be in their stupidity. There's got to be an analogy to George Bush somewhere here, although I can't put my finger on it other than on general principles.



