I realize it’s been a few weeks since I’ve written here. A lot has happened in that time, so I have quite a few things to write about over the next few days. I’ll give it to you in small bite-sized chunks though.
Coming soon:
* SBL Conference
* ETS Conference
* Two big personal announcements
Check back soon!
I love my drinks–hot, cold, hard, soft. When we went to Europe last year, we spent more money on drinks than on food–wines, ales, whiskey, cappuccino, etc. When it comes to hot drinks, I definitely consider myself to be more of a coffee person, but I enjoy teas as well.
I got hooked on coffee in college, and my addiction reached its nadir during my employment by Fourbucks Coffee Co. Two years ago my wife and I decided to kick the caffeine habit; we switched to two-thirds-caffeinated coffee in the morning, then a week later to one-third-caf–and then finally, we were down to decaf. We now life the happy, liberated life: able to drink coffee (or not drink it) whenever we like without regard to headaches, energy levels or sleeping patterns. Our health has improved, and I lost some weight and slept better.
Along with my growing coffee snobbery (freshly ground every morning in the French press), I noticed a disturbing pattern in my hot beverage consumption at work The coffee and teas at the office are terrible, and so the only option is hot chocolate, which has a ton of sugar. Searching for a low-calorie option, I remembered a certain herbal tea from my childhood: Good Earth Original. It’s a sweet and spicy blend, with chamomile as the strongest ingredient. Unable to find it at my grocery store, I purchased six boxes on Amazon for a great price.
When it arrived, I put the kettle on and eagerly tore off the (hassle-free) packaging. The sweet smells brought me back to afternoons and evenings at my childhood home on Broad Street, chatting with my mom and my friends. It was a way of holding onto something I had lost; smell is the sense most strongly tied to emotional memory–that’s what the deodorant commercials say, anyway….
When we had some friends over last Sunday, Melea really enjoyed Good Earth, so I gave her a box. She shared some with her friends at school, and I have been spreading it around work, so maybe we’re starting a tea-volution! (I know, that was cornier than the latest sugar tariff bill to pass in Congress.) It’s immensely satisfying to share an enjoyable treat with people you care about.
I just got official word that my paper has been accepted for the Eastern Regional meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society on March 26 in Lancaster. I hope some of you can make it–ETS is always a lot of fun.
Title: “‘Your Mama Was a Hittite’: Torah Exegesis and the Matrilineal Principal in the Ezrahite Reforms.”
Abstract:
This paper will explore the apparent discrepancy between the text of Deu 21:10-14 and the matrilineal principle in Judaism as it manifested itself in the early post-exilic context. The expulsion of non-Jewish wives and children of Jewish men under Ezra’s and Nehemiah’s reforms is evidence of the development of the matrilineal principle during or prior to the exile. However, the Deuteronomic Code allows for the incorporation of non-Jewish captive wives into the Israelite community. This study will evaluate previously proposed explanations for this problem, and arrive at a provisional solution that will influence the interpretation of the post-exilic biblical texts as well as Second Temple literature.
My presentation at the Mid-Atlantic Regional meeting of AAR/SBL is currently scheduled for Friday, 3/12, between 3:15-5:00 (subject to change).
The complete SBL schedule is here:
http://www.sbl-site.org/meetings/rm_midatlantic.aspx
The parallel American Academy of Religion page is here:
http://www.aarweb.org/About_AAR/Regions/Mid-Atlantic/call.asp
See you there!
I want credit for the gifts I give. Don’t you?
This morning I listened to a local radio host who was describing an awkward situation. He explained that he had recently been at a dinner party hosted by folks whom he barely knew, and he and his wife had taken a bottle of wine as a gift. When they arrived at this other couple’s home, he realized that he had forgotten to bring a tag for the bottle so that the hosts would know whom it was from.
This vexed our hero greatly–after all, he reasoned, he and his wife would not receive “credit” for the gift from their new acquaintances. When they went inside the house, a friend took their coats and offered to take the bottle as well, but our hero wanted to keep it with him. He sought an opportunity to hand the bottle personally to the host or hostess, but they were engaged with other guests (there were close to a hundred at this party!). Defeated, he took the unlabeled wine to the gift table, where he saw several other bottles of wine–some labeled, some unlabeled. This further dismayed him, since he judged that his wine was slightly more expensive than the other unlabeled bottles, but his hosts would never know that he had brought the most valuable bottle.
Back to the radio program, the host was slightly ashamed of his desire to receive credit for bringing a gift. Nevertheless, he solicited ideas from his callers about how he could still get credit for the gift–perhaps calling or sending a note thanking the couple for their hospitality and asking them how they liked the (particular) wine.
Some callers criticized the radio host for trying so hard to get credit. He retorted by daring them to refrain from placing “From” labels on any gifts they gave next Christmas.
This got me thinking about signaling theory and gift-giving. Most of us understand that gift-giving is different from other types of transfers, because certain goods and services have different values in use from their values in exchange. For example, I am not a very good cook. I can make a couple of decent dishes, but nothing fancy. If my friend is sick, however, she will feel much better if I bring over a home-cooked meal than if I bring her takeout, even if the quality of my meal is inferior. The time spent and the personal nature of the service adds value beyond the basic utility of the food. Similarly, if I choose to buy my wife six bags of M&Ms for Valentine’s Day rather than a single Whitman’s Sampler, she won’t be as pleased–even though the M&Ms may provide more chocolate at a cheaper price. The connotation of the gift provides a social signal that goes beyond its purely utilitarian value.
Back to the wine story–the wine is worth more to the giver and the recipient than its monetary value in exchange. The wine signals two things: first, that the invitation is appreciated, and second, that the guests are the sort of people who are socially aware and not weirdos. So, it is difficult to blame the guest for wanting to make sure that his hosts see that the bottle is from him, since that was the whole point of the gift in the first place.
In a different situation, he might not care at all if he gets credit for the gift. Say that there is a piggy bank at that party, and the hosts are soliciting donations for relief in Haiti (kind of strange, but work with me here). If our hero were inclined to make a donation (perhaps one comparable to the price of the bottle of wine), he wouldn’t think twice of just pulling cash out of his pocket and putting it in the piggy bank when no one was looking, as opposed to handing a check to the host in order to get the credit. (At least, I hope this is the case.) The purpose of the gift in this situation is to help needy people, and the satisfaction of that act is its own reward.
So, when the purpose of the gift is the signal, it is rational to make sure that the signal is properly received. When the purpose is personal satisfaction or spiritual edification, the credit matters less than the spirit in which the gift was given.
One of the callers into the show said, “You know what I would do if I had been in your situation? I would get on my 50,000-watt, syndicated radio program and whine about not getting credit for giving wine.” Burn!
P.S.: I enjoyed these two Econtalk podcasts on signaling theory with Mike Munger and Robin Hanson.
Next Monday, February 8, is International Septuagint Day. I’ve been trying to think of some good ways to celebrate, and I’m soliciting your suggestions. So far my ideas include:
Any more ideas?
Nine days after the 7.0 earthquake rocked Haiti, bodies are still being pulled from the rubble, people are sick, injured and dying, and gangs are roving the streets of Port-au-Prince.
In the wake of this tragedy, the American public was shocked by the tasteless comments of Rush Limbaugh and Pat Robertson. Rush argued that the earthquake was an opportunity for President Obama to boost his credibility by sending aid to black people in Haiti. Robertson blamed the earthquake on Haiti’s legendary eighteenth-century pact with Satan.
Now, many in the media were quite rightly critical of these comments by Limbaugh and Robertson. On “The Daily Show,” Jon Stewart said of Rush, “You know, I think I know the cause of your heart trouble: you don’t have one.” Stewart was equally critical of MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow for her comments on Wednesday night. Maddow commented that bolstering USAID (the government agency tasked with providing U.S. economic and humanitarian assistance) is a major part of the Obama administration’s agenda, in contrast to “what Bush and Cheney did.” “Congratulations MSNBC viewers,” Stewart joked, “You’re on the right side… of this terrible, terrible tragedy.”
The common factor in all these distasteful remarks is the exploitation of the tragic events–for a political agenda, or simply for attention-hogs like “Rev.” Pat. It struck me, however, that to some extent “The Daily Show” and others like it are profiting from this tragedy as well. Don’t get me wrong: I love Stewart, Colbert and their ilk; our society needs them. But they are first and foremost entertainers, and people saying stupid things about tragedy gives them fodder to produce their entertainment.
Furthermore, the endless news coverage of the tragedy has an exploitative feel to it. We know that it’s bad, terrible, horrible, urgent. But most Americans going about their daily lives can’t do much more than give some money to the relief effort and pray for the Haitian people. Seeing pictures of corpses, the injured, the rubble–we’re a voyeuristic nation of rubberneckers slowing down on the freeway to look at an horrific accident on the other side of the road (or the Gulf of Mexico).
Am I being hypercritical? Do we need to keep the Haitian tragedy in our field of vision so we don’t forget? Granted, but maybe we’ve gone a bit too far.
Enough for now–I’m going to go link to this post on Facebook so my blog gets lots of traffic.
The words of Amos, who was among the shepherds of Teqoa`, which he saw concerning Israel during the time of Uzziah, king of Judah, and during the time of Jarob`am son of Jo’ash, king of Israel, two years before the earthquake.
He said:
YHWH roars from Zion, and from Jerusalem his voice comes forth;
The pastures of the shepherds will dry up, and the top of Mount Carmel will wither.
Thus says YHWH:
For three transgressions of Damascus, because of four I will not relent:
Because they trampled down Gil`ad with iron sledges.
So I will send fire against the house of Haza’el, and it will consume the castles of Ben-Hadad;
I will smash the bar of Damascus and cut off its inhabitants from the Aven Valley, and the one who holds the staff of the house of `Eden;
and the people of Aram will go into exile to Qir—
says YHWH.
Thus says YHWH:
For three transgressions of `Azzah, because of four I will not relent:
Because they carried into exile a whole people to deliver them over to Edom.
So I will send fire against the walls of `Azzah, and it will consume her castles.
I will cut off the inhabitants from ‘Ashdod, and the one who holds the staff from ‘Ashqelon;
And I will return my hand upon `Eqron, and the remnant of the Philistines will perish—
says Lord YHWH.
Thus says YHWH:
For three transgressions of Zor, because of four I will not relent:
Because they delivered into exile a whole people to Edom, and did not remember the covenant with their brothers.
So I will send fire against the walls of Zor, and it will consume her castles.
Thus says YHWH:
For three transgressions of Edom, because of four I will not relent:
Because he pursued his brother with the sword and shattered his compassion;
And his anger tore perpetually, and he kept his wrath forever.
So I will send fire against Teman, and it will consume the castles of Bozrah.
Thus says YHWH:
For three transgressions of the sons of Ammon, because of four I will not relent:
Because they ripped open pregnant women at Gil`ad, so that they might enlarge their border.
So I will kindle a fire against the walls of Rabbah, and it will consume her castles
with a trumpet in the day of battle and a tempest in the day of storm.
And their king will go into exile, he and his princes together—
says YHWH.
——————————————————
Technically, this cycle of condemnation continues through chapter 2. 2:1-3 concerns the sins of Moab; 2:4-5 condemns the transgressions of Judah; but the longest indictment is saved for Israel (2:6-16).
Tonight, I’m fascinated with chapter 1. After the superscription (1:1) and the opening statement of judgment (1:2), the prophet speaks five oracles against the nations. The nations are Assyria (Dameseq), Philistia, Tyre (Zor), Edom and Ammon. Each strophe (paragraph) follows a similar pattern: the statement of "three—no, four—transgressions," the charges, and the consequences.
Like a little baby, I love repetition. The repetition within this poem forms a structure that limits the poet’s options. For many years scholars thought that structure most often hinders creativity; recently, some have shown that self-imposed limits can heighten a poet’s creativity by forcing him to dig deeper for different sorts of expression. In this poem, as in others, the striking similarities naturally point the reader to the differences.
1) The first and second lines are almost the same in each strophe; however, the first, second and fifth strophes contain three lines of consequences, but the third and fourth contain only one line of consequence. The fourth strophe contains an extra line (C) of charges against Edom.
2) Each of the consequences includes castles/strongholds being torn down. However, the first and fourth strophes name the city in the genitive (Ben-Hadad, Bozrah).
3) In the first four "consequence" lines, the poet uses שלח ("to send") with "fire"; only in the fifth strophe does he use יצת ("to kindle").
4) The first strophe uses "house"; three use "walls," and one specifies the city of Teman.
On its face, this poem seems like a sort of vengeful, xenophobic rant against all these neighboring countries. However, this notion is undercut by two factors. First, the poet comes down the hardest on his own people in the next chapter. It would be sort of like Chapelle finishing off his routine with a bunch of black-dude jokes. Second, the poet condemns actions, not people per se. These nations committed atrocities or treachery against their neighbors, and they deserve what they get.
I just got word that my Acrostics paper has been accepted for the Hebrew Poetry section of the Society of Biblical Literature’s Mid-Atlantic regional meeting (March 11-12, New Brunswick, NJ). Be sure to check it out if you’re planning to attend the conference! I’ll post more details in the weeks to come.
I’ve been off the radar for a few days. Corrie and I were in San Diego between Christmas and New Year’s, and on the way back I caught a nasty cold that I’m still trying to shake. I was on my back most of Sunday and Monday, and fortunately I’m off of work today.
A week away was nice because it gave me the chance to catch up on some reading. I finished off four books and several articles on the plane and in our down time. It’s a strange feeling when you travel three time zones to the west, because you wake up at 5am and feel refreshed and ready to go, but everyone else is still asleep–so you just read. But I digest…
One of the books I finished was The Shack. I’d been meaning to read it and comment on it for quite some time, but school and other priorities kept bumping it down the list. Honestly, it was difficult to come at it with a pink slate, given everything that’s been said and written about the book in the last couple of years. But I was determined to read it both critically and empathetically.
For those of you who don’t know the premise of the book… Mack’s life has been dominated by “The Great Sadness,” a spiritual and emotional darkness, ever since his youngest daughter was abducted and (presumably) killed. He is invited to spend a weekend with God at the shack where his daughter was tortured. The book is largely composed of dialogues between Mack and the members of the Trinity.
Let me offer some remarks to preface my comments on the book. The sharpest criticism of The Shack centers around its portrayal of the Trinity. Now, I am not a theologian (nor the son of a theologian), but I’ve taken my share of theology classes in college and seminary. I know the trinitarian and incarnational heresies and their history in their early church. Anyone who studies the history of these doctrines knows that the process was one of trial and error. For example, someone would say in the interest of protecting Jesus’ deity, “Well, Jesus was fully God, but he only seemed to be a human being.” Then someone would say, “Eh, no, that doesn’t work–Jesus had to be the true son of Adam in order to redeem Adam’s race.” Thus, docetism (from dokeō, “I seem”) falls by the wayside. Similarly, in the interest of protecting God’s unity, some argued that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are simply different phases or modes of God’s existence. This, however, does not account for the occasions in Scripture in which the members of the Trinity interact–down goes modalism (Sabellianism).
The point is, the process was more negative than positive: the church had to define the outer limits of orthodoxy, but it could not come up with appropriate orthodox analogies for the Trinity. Therefore, any artistic portrayal of the Trinity is bound to fall short and err in some way. We shouldn’t be too hard on Paul Young for what I thought was an admirable attempt to challenge the popular conception of God in our culture.
First, I thought that, overall, the God of The Shack corresponded to and illumined the triune God of the Bible. Some take issue with the portrayal of the Father as a grandmotherly black woman, and with the Holy Spirit as a wispy, ethereal Asian woman. But Young is careful to state the orthodox position that God is not gendered. Papa (the Father) says, “Mackenzie, I am neither male nor female, even though both genders are derived from my nature. If I choose to appear to you as a man or a woman, it’s because I love you. For me to appear to you as a woman and suggest that you call me Papa is simply to mix metaphors, to help you keep from falling so easily back into your religious conditioning” (p. 93). Elsewhere, Papa appears as a man: “This morning you’re going to need a father” (p. 219). This seems no different from the biblical portrayals of God as a great father, a mother bird, a warrior, a mountain–all are ways of speaking about the unspeakable.
But while his portrayals of the Father and Spirit are metaphorical, Young is careful to distinguish Jesus as a human being. He writes a hilarious scene in chapter seven (pp. 104-05) in which Jesus drops a bowl of batter on the floor, and Papa and Sarayu (the Holy Spirit) light-heartedly tease him for being a clumsy human. Mack experiences Jesus as a fellow human being, and as God.
The Persons of Young’s Trinity express love and admiration for each other that is consistent with biblical teaching. Indeed, I found them to be a narrative expression of Jonathan Edwards’ teaching on the eternal joy and mutual satisfaction within the Trinity. At times I felt like St. Gregory, who famously said, “No sooner do I conceive of the One than I am illumined by the splendour of the Three; no sooner do I distinguish them than I am carried back to the One.” Young’s book felt just right–just when I felt the Persons were too distinct, he reminded me of their unity, and just when when I felt the unity was overemphasized, he reminded me of the Trinity.
Beyond the trinitarian theology of The Shack, the book is a profound theodicy. Chapter 11, “Here Come Da Judge,” is particularly moving in this regard. Like the protagonist of the great Old Testament theodicy, Job, Mack presumes to judge God for the death of his child. Once Mack is confronted with God’s love and the lengths to which He went to save His children, Mack begins to trust God again–even more deeply than before.
The theology of The Shack is not perfect–there are statements that I felt fell too far into emphasizing God’s unity or plurality. I have heard that Paul Young is a universalist. I do not know if this is true, but some statements could possibly be construed as universalistic. As someone who has received a very blessed and constructive seminary education, I find seminary-bashing (there is a little) trite and tiresome.
Overall, though, I think this book is worth reading. It left me with a greater sense of God’s mystery and transcendence, but also with a deeper understanding of his loving presence. I recommend it as an artistic aid to faith and understanding, not as a replacement for biblical teaching or theological reflection.
think hard, think well 