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Monday, March 14, 2016

A Critical Reading of the Old Testament / TaNaKh: Academic Journal Entries, January 14th to 28th, 2016

Academic Entry for Class of January 14th, 2016
Response 1: General Context
The history of Western civilization—and thus, most traditions of recorded history—root from the practical, political, traditional, and spiritual applications of the Bible in its many minutely altered forms. In this case, we are studying the “Genesis” of the Bible in itself, through its beginnings as the early Jewish holy book of the TaNaKh, long before a “New” Testament ever claimed to supersede its revelations.
In this study, its intractable ties to Mesopotamian mythology are made quite evident (for example: the uncanny parallels between the Mesopotamian myth of “enuma elish” and Genesis). What is clear is that most of the so-called Old Testament is a series of ancient creation stories amalgamated and re-purposed to fit the theological template of the ancient Israelites. This sort of cultural re-appropriation is nothing new in history, but this observation as applied to the Bible most certainly is. Until recently, the Bible had always been studied as a book of literal fact as opposed to allegorical myth. To question its authority was sacrosanct—or, at the very least, any new findings of fact were forced to somehow compromise with the TaNaKh as interpreted literally. Now, we have reached a level either of required cultural maturity (if one is to believe in progress) or cultural dissociation enough that we are able to study the Bible as thoroughly as we have studied other ancient texts. What one can find in exploring this subject themselves is akin to the intellectual excitement one feels reading The Da Vinci Code before realizing its horrible inaccuracy (though it never claimed to be anything more than a work of fiction, so it's of more meaning to critique Dan Brown's writing rather than his general plot points).


Response 2: From the Textbook
You are attending a Sunday School class that happens to be discussing the book of Genesis. Your teacher says that it was written by Moses. You feel like showing off your newfound knowledge by explaining the reasons some scholars think otherwise.”
The idea of a singular Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch—or the Old Testament in general—is contested by scholars of the Documentary Hypothesis. Though the dates of composition are relative to educated estimates, there are too many asynchronous passages, outright contradictions, and diverse terminology in the text for most scholars to entertain the idea of singular authorship anymore; as it stands, it's asserted there are at least four main sources: J, E, D, and P.
J stands for Yahweh, as J makes a Yah sound in German, denoting the Yahwist (or Jehovah) source, focused mainly on the bare-bones of the Bible, and with a preference toward Yahweh or Jehovah as the name of God. This is followed closely by (and, in the eyes of many scholars, inseparable from) the E source, E denoting Elohim as the preferred name for God. In the case of J and E, there is debate over whether both sources were written or redacted apart from one another, as the E source has nothing in the way of standalone text, and seems only to supplement the J source. The D source is the clearest of them all, D simply meaning Deuteronomy (or Deuteronomic), credited with the entire book of Deuteronomy and all interjected references to it in all the books prior and following.
Last, but not least, we have the P source. P standing for Priestly, this source concerns the etiquette of old Jewish ritual practices on purity, familial bonds, commandments, etc.
Still other Biblical scholars reject the JEDP hypothesis as they'd rather think of the Bible as a mainly oral tradition that eventually found its way to text; by this, they main to assert that both authorship and particular redaction are too multifarious to condense to only four sources.



Academic Entry for Class of January 21st, 2016
Response 1: General Context
Just as the Mesopotamian creation story of enuma elish is mirrored in the start of Genesis, as is the Akkadian story of Gilgamesh mirrored in the tale of Noah and the Flood. This is an important point to bear in mind, as the Bible has often been seen as the source of all archetypes, when in fact it is simply a rich manifestation of archetypes which had already been in existence for centuries—perhaps even millennia—prior. It is a series of justifications (why did the people of Canaan deserve to be put to the sword? Because of that strange episode in Noah's tent with his Canaanite son), explanations (how did the world come to be? What is the meaning of life?), and cautionary tales (if humans, instead of God, try to decide what is good and what is evil, there is nothing but disaster, as is depicted in the fall from the Garden of Eden after Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge; this episode also acts as an explanation for why humans must suffer and die). The story of Noah is also where the narrative of the Bible shifts from the story of the world, to the story of God's “chosen people,” the Israelites, tracing in rather rushed detail the advance of generations up to Abraham.
Response 2: From the Textbook
You tell the teacher of your Sunday School class that you are taking a course that studies the Bible from a historical and literary perspective, rather than from the perspective of faith. Your teacher thinks that this is a waste of time, since only someone with a religious commitment to the Bible can understand it. Do you agree or disagree? State your reasons why.”
If I were being brutally honest, I would tell my Sunday School teacher this: from the perspective of faith—or, at least from a perspective of faith upon which it is presupposed that studying the Bible from any other perspective other than faith is a waste of time—it is a cultish obsession that does not investigate the work in context, but in and of itself for personal reasons. Sort of like reading Harry Potter as nonfiction or self-help.
In all honesty, the only real way to truly adsorb the lessons of the Bible may be through a reading of the text complimented with as deep an understanding of its context as one can possibly garner through academic study and personal investigation. If one is honest about where these books came from, and reads them not on an elevated pedestal, but eye to eye, the wisdom of the allegory becomes accessible, readily integrated on many different levels. First of all, one comes to understand the anthropological significance of the Bible, as the opening of Genesis spells out clearly the ancient three-tiered worldview (water above, in the firmament, and water below, with land floating precariously in between, though free of the burdens of our modern laws of physics so it may be less precarious than my intuition will allow me to acknowledge). Second, within the many tales of God's almighty (though at times petty) wrath, there really are stories with interesting, rather spiritually nuanced lessons to teach. One of my personal favorites is when God has decided to destroy Sodom and Gommorah, announcing these plans to Abraham during one of his appearances. Abraham's nephew, Lot, along with his daughters, are living in Sodom at the time, prompting Abraham to try and bargain with God. He asks, in numbered increments starting at 50 and going down, if God found however many innocent people within the city, would he spare it, to which God always replies with yes. In the end, angels come to warn Lot of the impending destruction, but the story finishes on a rather twisted note when Lot has sex with his two daughters after escaping Sodom, driving the point that the evil of Sodom has infected all three of them irredeemably (they are impure).

Academic Entry for Class of January 28th, 2016
Response 1: General Context
Throughout the last half of Genesis, the format is reasonably compressed enough as to make one wonder if these stories were once larger at some point, connected as in a saga, but still self-contained in enough aspects as to warrant them standing alone. It gives the impression, at times, of being a series of rundown synopsis with the most essential excerpts injected or interjecting, sometimes entirely out of the blue, and at other times very fluidly. Perhaps the book of Genesis in itself was once comprised of more than one book—or, considering the age of the story, more than one self-contained oral tradition—which were integrated and amalgamated into the asynchronous format we have today. Some evidence for this comes in the form of the Documentary Hypothesis itself, with or without which one can still see God arbitrarily decide to rename Abram and Sarai to Abraham and Sarah, with God himself going by different names throughout the text: Yahweh, Elohim, or El Shaddai. This is not to mention the two separate accounts of Genesis in Genesis 1 and 2, or the rest of the otherwise non-sensical contradictions within the text. Some argue these contradictions are not separate sources, however, and instead the result of deliberate chiastic structure. In some regards, they may be right; but so far, the only Biblical scholars I've seen pushing this interpretation as a uniform standard are those who cannot let go of creationism (see, for example, the Biblical scholarship critiquing the Documentary Hypothesis on creation.com).
Response 2: From the Textbook
Your roommate says that if the world was not created in six days, then there is nothing to learn from the Bible. What do you say?”

That's like saying “if Star Wars didn't actually happen a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, then there is nothing to learn from Star Wars.” Perhaps this hypothetical roommate is a bit of an ideological scientific reductionist, and thus would agree with my statement on Star Wars, calling it a wonderful work of escapism, and nothing more. Though I too would call it a wonderful work of escapism, I wouldn't round this observation off with “and nothing more.” This would be a classic case of someone discounting the value and importance of myth in all regards; in the past, present, future, and general contexts. Star Wars has much to teach in the way of inherited archetypes, as well as illustrating a clear divide between 'good' and 'evil,' while still immersed in shades of gray, illustrating that humanity is capable of horror for what it may truly believe is a good reason. Both Star Wars and the Bible are myths of the highest order, and not in the derogatory “this is nothing but a silly myth” sense, but in the literary sense. One need only read Joseph Campbell's “The Hero With a Thousand Faces” to understand the mutual thread running through all myth, regardless of its place, date, or person(s) of origin. There are universal themes of failure and redemption, creation and destruction, heroes and villains, etc. all of which are of immense value when exploring the nature of the human condition, the history of human perception (both external and self-perception), and, in the case of the Bible and all other holy books, understanding a text that acts as a bedrock or precedent for three of the worlds largest religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam).  
PLEASE NOTE: THIS WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN AS A SERIES OF ACADEMIC JOURNAL ENTRIES RESPONDING TO EACH 3-HOUR CLASS ON CRITICALLY READING THE OLD TESTAMENT / TANAKH.

Sunday, March 13, 2016

A Critical Reading of the Old Testament / TaNaKh: Academic Journal Entries, February 4th to March 3rd, 2016

Academic Entry for Class of February 4th, 2016
Response 1: General Context
Though it's unlikely that Moses existed as portrayed (the debate is and will probably remain ongoing), there does seem to be some indication of an exodus-like event having occurred in or around the relevant time-frame. Though it was undoubtedly much smaller than mythologized in the Tanakh and in general Biblical tradition, it's novel to imagine the real event as it might have been, and even more interesting to speculate on the phases the mythologization of the event underwent in the years, decades, and centuries following. And to what end, who's eclectic agendas was the tale made to serve? How often was the story told with disingenuity, and how often did it come from the lips of a genuine individual, ready to accept the felt hypocrisy of their impulses when contrasted with commandment?
The scenes when God leaves manna which the Israelites cook into loaves of bread or small cakes reminds me of one of the opening character vignettes in the recently released Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens. In it, the audience is introduced to Rey, the freshman female protagonist of the new trilogy and, at this point in the story, a lowly scavenger of spare parts on the Outer Rim desert planet of Jakku. In exchange for her scavenged valuables, she is given daily rations packets not at all unlike the all-purpose manna left by God. When removed from the packet, it's a beige glob of dough which is then cooked into—you guessed it—what looks a lot like miraculously conceived loaves of bread and small cakes. This may not be a finer point of similarity between these legends, but it is, I think, indicative of an archetypal pattern.



Response 2: From the Textbook
You are in a discussion about religion with your roommates, and one of them tells you that she has learned that Judaism is, and always has been, a highly legalistic religion. It is all about trying to please God by following a detailed and impossible list of do's and don'ts. In her view, no one can possibly do all these things. Do you agree or not? State your reasons, in as much detail as you can.”
In most regards, this impression is warranted. Likely, because it's not an incorrect impression. But there is more to Judaism than an all-pervasive legalism. In fact, it could be argued that much of Judaism is less to do with orthodox legalism, per se, as with open and continued interpretation (hence the Rabbinic tradition and midrash). What the text is ultimately telling you is dependent on how literally or allegorically one interprets its contents. It's true that the conservative orthodox community abides by Judaism as a highly legalistic religion; and it's also true that legal language is utilized throughout the entirety of the Tanakh (eg: God's 'covenant' with the House of Jacob), but there is no universal Jewish standard except in theory (just as there is not one way to interpret the Quaran, hence 'internal' sectarian divides that are really only as 'internal' as the split of Islam from its Abrahamic predecessors, Judaism and Christianity; the difference between Lutheran Christianity and Bahai Islam is often just as great as the difference between Sunni Islam and Bahai, as in none are very similar and are thus not reasonably generalized into vaguer classifications).

Academic Entry for Class of February 11th, 2016
Response 1: General Context
Having escaped the oppression of Egypt, the Israelites now enter a land that is not really theirs and commit wanton genocide by the supposed grace of God. That divine commandment can somehow erase this obvious hypocrisy in a flood of zealous theological rationalization should, in all fairness, remind us of the same attitude (and it is the same attitude) as it exists with us today: in the genocidal zealotry of the Islamic State, al Qaeda, Boko Haram, and Jabhat al-Nusra. They all feel as righteous and divinely justified as Joshua at the legendary battle of Jericho (“They exterminated everything in the city with the sword: man and woman, young and old, ox and sheep and ass” (Joshua 6:21)), or David after defeating Goliath, putting the remaining Philistines to the sword (“the Philistines fell mortally wounded along the road to Shaarim ... [t]hen the Israelites returned from chasing the Philistines and looted their camp. David took the head of the Philistine and brought it to Jerusalem...” (I Samuel, 17:52-54)). Rationalizing these stated atrocities, whether they truly occurred or not, isn't an honest reading of the text; and trying to justify these mass murders by pointing out that it was God who commanded them as part of his mysterious plan is, in ideological essence, sympathizing with terrorism; or, if not terrorism in itself, a level of Abrahamic zealotry in complete parallel with the irrational fanaticism of violent Islamic extremism. Is their murderously uncompromising fundamentalism not, first and foremost, an Old Testament doctrine?
Response 2: From the Textbook
Some people have seen the principle of divine retribution as one of the themes of the Deuteronomistic History: people get what they deserve, the good are rewarded, and the wicked are punished. Discuss this view. Do you think the Deuteronomistic History stresses this principle? If so, how? And on a personal level, does this principle ring true in your experience?”
The Deuteronomistic History certainly does stress this principal, as demonstrated in (among many other stories) Korah's rebellion in the Book of Numbers. In it, Korah, a Levite, leads a revolt against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness, accusing them both of raising themselves “above the LORD's congregation” (Numbers 16:3). Their authority is tested, and God smites the rebels, as by revolting against Moses, God's chosen leader for the people of Israel, they have by extension revolted against God. Numbers 16 ends on a rather somber note, as “the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them up with their households, all Korah's people and all their possessions. They went down alive into Sheol, with all that belonged to them; the earth closed over them and they vanished from the midst of the congregation” (Numbers 16:32-33).
On a personal level, for the most part, it does seem like people generally get what they give. I've come to believe in a very utilitarian concept of karma; I don't believe there is an inevitable moral order inherent to the universe in itself, but for the most part, it's true that every action has an equal and opposite reaction... or, in the case of morality, every action has an equal reaction, though not always necessarily opposite. In the simplest description of this conception of karma, the lack of any implicit divine order precludes any concrete punishment for abstract sins. In fact, it precludes 'punishment,' in the moral sense of the word, and implies the more fluid and objective use of 'consequence.' If you murder someone, you'll likely be caught, tried, and jailed—though, not inevitably; there are ways, whether by deliberate effort or fluke, by which one can get away with murder. But even then, this does not erase consequence. Perhaps this act of murder will haunt the perpetrator... or, if there is no conscience in the act itself, there could be a constant, all-pervasive paranoia about getting found out sooner or later. Karma, then, in this sense, means that if you throw a rock into the water, there will be ripples. And if you drop a boulder, there will be waves. But if you forget to pray to God in thanks and one of these things occurs, there was definitely no causal link.
Academic Entry for Class of February 25th, 2016
Response 1: General Context
The Book of Amos is what I found the most interesting in this weeks readings. The focus on a genuine spirituality and a genuine altruism so lacking in Israelite society, overcompensated for with disingenuous ritual practice and overzealous dogma, is a refreshing reorientation of Biblical perspective. Whereas it often feels much of the text is focused on ritual technicality, Amos points towards what many would claim is the real intention of Scripture: redemption for those who repent (in other words, those who admit they've made a mistake), and the assistance of those in need from all in the community (eg: a redistribution of wealth). If this assistive altruism does not occur, Israelite society is effectively kicking itself out at the knees. The greed of the rich (a symptom of which is seen to be the blasphemous worship of Baal and other foreign deities) will not only starve the poor, it will bring ruin to the entire nation when God finally decides to wreak his vengeance. As He says in Amos 5:24: “...let justice roll down like water, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”
Response 2: From the Textbook
One day after class, one of your fellow students tells you that he doesn't understand why your instructor is spending so much time talking about the historical context of prophets like Amos and Isaiah. In his opinion, their writings have a timeless quality and are not tied to any particular historical moment or events. You, on the other hand, want to stand up for your instructor (poor fellow) and decide to defend his approach. Pick three instances in which knowing the historical context of the proclamations of these prophets can assist you in understanding their message.”
To say any of these books can be entirely divorced from their context is borne out as impossible in the writings themselves. Interchangeable references to Babylonians and Chaldean's abound, and without knowing a little about the Babylonians or, at the very least, that 'Babylonian' and 'Chaldean' are two different terms for the same peoples, there are inevitably going to be some issues with basic comprehension. Likewise, in the Christian interpretation of Scripture, everything is seen as leading toward the coming of Jesus. Without an understanding of the historical context which apparently (and I say 'apparently' because it's entirely up to your style of readership) foreshadowed his coming, can there even be any basic understanding of the stories themselves? I would posit that it is unlikely.
There are those with particularly nuanced views on the Scripture whom believe, among other things, that there are secret Biblical codes embedded in the text, and/or that Biblical scripture is somehow predicting events in our own era. Once again: a realistic investigation of these works and through them their Prophets unearths that these prophetic proclamations were made with their own times in mind.




Academic Entry for Class of March 3rd, 2016
Response 1: General Context
Trying to discern which Prophets were legitimate and which were apparently not must have been a hectic practice is constantly shifting shame and reassurance. From my secular point of view, Jeremiah was as credible as any of the other prophets at the time, on par with the apparently heretical prophet guilds active in the Levant, or with the blasphemous prophets of other gods, such as Baal. In the end, we cast Jeremiah as we do because of the Tanakh's obvious assumption of its own truth. For all we know, there were similar written books by other prophets (perhaps ones who believed their message just as passionately as Jeremiah, Isaiah, or Amos did) which were lost to time or deliberately destroyed to preserve a body of canonical literature.
In most ways, the prophetic life seems quite horrid. No matter what factors are, in reality, out of your control, everything boils down to somehow being the collective fault of the community. The fact that Assyria and Babylon expanded was, in the geopolitical climate of the time, probably inevitable. There was no real sense of national boundaries, and no one was inalienably tied to a nationalistic cult-conception of land as we understand it today. It seems like guilt was the staple in the emotional diet of the Israelites, and shame was the name of the game.
Response 2: From the Textbook
You are talking to your roommate about the Bible and he tells you that as far as he can see, all the prophets are dealing with the same problems and are delivering the same message. You think this view is a bit simplistic. Pick two of the prophets* (question slightly altered) and discuss how different their contexts and messages are.”

Put in the simplest form for comparison, Jeremiah was preaching the fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonians, whereas Isaiah was preaching the destruction of the land by Assyrian hands. If the observation is a bit vaguer than that, focusing instead on the fact that it seems like most (though not all) of the prophets are preaching destruction as punishment for sinful iniquities, there is truth to that. The only issue is that it does not automatically imply they were each saying the same thing, just that all this hypothetical roommate got from reading them was the more generalized message, and not the details. Isaiah, writing at a time of particularly intense military and political tensions as King Tiglath-Pileser was making moves on the city-states and countries of the Levant, willingly took up the call to minister as a prophet. Jeremiah, in contrast, was predestined for the prophetic life in his mother's womb, and was far from willing, as is observed throughout the text. He was so consistently devastated and resentful of his posting in life that he is widely known as the “weeping prophet.” How these prophets came to minister and how they carried out their prophetic duties is also part of what they were saying; it is not simply limited to speech dialogue in the text. There are great similarities, and there are chasms of difference.
PLEASE NOTE: THIS WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN AS A SERIES OF ACADEMIC JOURNAL ENTRIES RESPONDING TO EACH 3-HOUR CLASS ON CRITICALLY READING THE OLD TESTAMENT / TANAKH.

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The world is meaningless,

there is no God or gods, there are no morals, the universe is not moving inexorably towards any higher purpose.
All meaning is man-made, so make your own, and make it well.
Do not treat life as a way to pass the time until you die.
Do not try to "find yourself", you must make yourself.
Choose what you want to find meaningful and live, create, love, hate, cry, destroy, fight and die for it.
Do not let your life and your values and your actions slip easily into any mold, other that that which you create for yourself, and say with conviction, "This is who I make myself".
Do not give in to hope.
Remember that nothing you do has any significance beyond that with which you imbue it.
Whatever you do, do it for its own sake.
When the universe looks on with indifference, laugh, and shout back, "Fuck You!".
Rembember that to fight meaninglessness is futile, but fight anyway, in spite of and because of its futility.
The world may be empty of meaning, but it is a blank canvas on which to paint meanings of your own.
Live deliberately. You are free.