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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