Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Gullibility's Travels

When reading about the seven families that ruled Israel over roughly 200 years following the Jewish nation’s division into northern and southern kingdoms, I completely accepted the argument that each ruler was worse than the former, and that God facilitated the leadership turnover as punishment for wrong-doing.

That acceptance played directly into Dtr’s hands. Writing and/or editing from the Judah perspective centuries later, Dtr had an interest in showing Israel’s weaknesses in light of its eventual fall to the Assyrians. My experience represents a perfect example of gullibility aided by ignorance, or at least lack of awareness. Fortunately I don’t have much trouble laughing at myself. Although reasonably happy with my previous Blogs, I plan to listen to the Podcast lecture before writing.

Male Temple Prostitutes

While reading the Hebrew Bible I almost fell off my seat when I read the words “male temple prostitutes” in 1 Kings 14.24. It didn’t take long to find the same words in 1 Kings 15.12, 22.46, and 2 Kings 23.7, plus Deuteronomy 23.17 and Job 36.14.
My first thought was that this expression must refer to male homosexuals, but I was wrong. With a little research I learned from Strong’s Concordance that the original word in Hebrew is qadesh (H6945). The feminine form is qedeshah.
It turns out that qadesh and qedeshah worship the Canaanite fertility goddess Ashtoreth. We are warned throughout the Hebrew Bible against worshiping other gods, including Ashtoreth’s husband Molech. It is important to note that qadesh is not the same as zanah, which can refer to both a temple prostitute and a street prostitute.
But whether we are talking about qadesh or zanah, neither are necessarily homosexuals.

The Sound of Silence



Storm imagery pervades the Hebrew Bible. On some occasions, as in Jeremiah 23.19 and 30.23, God is the storm itself ("storm of the Lord"). In Isaiah 28.2, God is mighty and strong, like a storm. In Ezekiel 1.4, God appears from out of a storm. A massive storm is created, and subsequently quelled, by God in Jonah 1.4. God is likened to a storm in Nahum 1.3. In 2 Esdras 13.37 we are told the storm symbolizes ungodliness. And a spirit, but not God, does speak out of the silence in Job 4.16.
The storm reference in 1 Kings 19.11 stands as distinct from these other images of God in relation to the storm. We read that Elisha was instructed to stand on the mountain and wait for God to pass by, but when a great wind came, God was not in the wind. God also was not in the earthquake or the fire. Rather, God was in the “sound of sheer silence.”
Ironically, in Psalm 50.3 we read god does not keep silent and before him is a fire and a mighty storm all around.
What are we to make of this silence?
In other passages of the Hebrew Bible, silence often represents a space of great attention. In Psalm 62 the writer’s soul waits in silence for God. In Job 29.21 the audience keeps silent awaiting guidance. In Deuteronomy 27.9 we read that Moses directed all Israel to remain silent that they may hear his words.
The reference to silence and God in 1 Kings 19.11 comes shortly after Elijah’s first appearance in 1 Kings 17.1, although it is not his first time to speak with God. Elijah is in close communion with God and brings with him many new perspectives on the relationship between Jews and God. He provides an essential role in advancing the discrete narratives of several rulers in 1-2 Kings.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Healing the Trinity: Church, Human and God


[Note: This essay was crafted for a theology class, not for a scripture class.]


Healing the Trinity: Church, Human and God
by
David Bottorff

I am moved by the dynamic synergy I see between God, the church and humans. Particularly striking are parallels between the church and the individual around issues of healing. Rather than separate, I see church and the individual as two expressions of the same thing: God’s grace.
Everything I read about healing points in one direction – restoration of wholeness. This applies to the individual recovering from spiritual, physical or emotional injury, as well as to the institutional church. The centrifugal forces of modern society, which as in physics are fictitious, work to tear both individuals and churches apart. By resisting entropy, the church is better positioned to heal those in need. Likewise, the individual who resists chaos brings wholeness and spiritual integrity to the church. The binding force in both cases, the thing that brings order out of the mêlée, is God. I see wholeness through spirituality as a key component of pastoral counseling.
Gestalt Theory teaches that the whole of an individual is greater than the sum of that person’s parts. So, too, is the church greater than the sum of its discrete parts. Gestalt therapist Tilda Norberg[1] has played a key role in bringing the concept of wholeness to pastoral counseling. John Koenig, writing in Practicing Our Faith,[2] noted Norberg’s credo: The healing ministry of Jesus is still continuing in the community of faith; healing includes the whole person – spiritual, physical, and emotional; and God wills our wholeness and is actively involved in our growth. Healing, Norberg says, is not just a matter of fixing things that are wrong. Rather, “Real health, for my Christian point of view, is coming to the fullness of your vocation as a child of God. It means becoming Christlike.”
One of the paradoxes faced by Christians is that healing and new growth emerges from pain and injury. Koenig notes that the point of change is represented by the cross, whether the cross upon which Jesus suffered and died before being reborn, or the cross roads we encounter in daily life, sometimes in the form of crisis or injury. Unlike the patient-physician paradigm, Christians understand healing as something much larger: restoration to wholeness, including right relationships with God, family, friends, and neighbors.
Interestingly, 12-step recovery programs are premised on the concept that change, and especially spiritual growth, occurs when a person reaches crisis or “bottom.” Fortunately, the bottom is where the person decides to stop digging, implying life can start anew at any moment, provided we seek guidance from a power greater than ourselves.
I also would like to note that just as I see parallels between the church and the individual, I see parallels with the living organisms we call family and society. Indeed, just like the church and the individual, families and society are vulnerable to a wide variety of injuries, including war, environmental degradation, and poverty.
Much of the pastoral counselor’s mission is to help clients find meaning in life. Koenig points out, the word “shalom” represents an all-encompassing peace free from meaningless suffering. I contend that all suffering is meaningless in and of itself, and that we are challenged to make meaning from the suffering. Like the pastoral counselor, the church, as a manifestation of God’s compassion, has a mission to find meaning in suffering and bring about healing and wholeness. If there is any doubt as to the Christian church’s charge to heal, Koenig draws attention to the many times Jesus either healed the sick or issued directives so to do, including Matthew 10.1, Mark 6.7, Luke 9.1-2, plus Acts 1.1-10, 4.30, and 9.32-43.
 Sister Kathleen Popko currently is executive vice president of strategy and ministry development for healthcare provider Catholic Health East. Koenig quoted her as saying, “Throughout the centuries, the church's mission has been to create the human conditions where one can experience God, particularly in those moments of vulnerability and brokenness.” Koenig said that when we embody God's healing presence through touch, concern, or liturgy, “we take part in God's activity of healing the world.”
Just as individuals use laying on of hands to facilitate spiritual and physical healing, so too, in a figurative sense, must the church lay its hands on those suffering in the world.
Both churches and individuals can get caught up in ego self-aggrandizement, in their own sense of differentness, in their own logistics and bureaucracy and politics. Ultimately, the theology of the church as well as the theology of the individual can become compromised, leading to a loss of integrity. In Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology, Daniel L. Migliore stresses that the church is not charged with promoting its own survival or expanding, but with representing the highest values of Christianity.[3] I contend the exact same can be said of an individual Christian. Just as Liberation Theology calls on the church to take action in the world with an eye toward justice, so too are individual humans called upon to take action in the world with an eye toward compassion. Although usually applied to the church, I believe the term “ecclesiology” also can be applied to the individual. In both cases, healing is facilitated when theological integrity – that is, adherence to the highest principles of Christianity, particularly sharing in God’s communion – are maintained.
As a human institution striving to align with God’s will, the church must admit its shortcomings if it is to give full voice to the mystery of God’s divine actions in the world. Likewise, the individual Christian is invited to abandon the trappings of ego and embrace humility as a doorway to salvation. While this guidance should apply to everyone, I see it as particularly true of pastoral counselors and other caregivers. “When we honestly admit the problems of the church – which have their roots in our forgetfulness of the profoundly social meanings of all the articles of the faith as well as in our failure to hold together faith and practice – we may begin to catch sight of the mystery of the church, which is to bear witness to the Trinitarian love of God,” Migliore said. Sometimes pain and suffering creates that doorway to mystery. It is when we embrace suffering as an opportunity to find spiritual meaning that we begin to heal, and as we heal we more fully engage the God’s mystery.
The Bible uses a wide variety of terms and expressions to describe God, just as it does to describe the church and the people of Earth. The fact no one term completely encapsulates God, the church or a human speaks volumes to the inherent enigma of each entity and advances the argument they all act in parallel as different expressions of the same thing. Most branches of Christianity embrace the Trinity, or the notion that the Godhead (ousia) finds expression as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Is it too bold to find affinity for a different type of Trinity, one that finds expression as God, human and church?


[1] Norberg, Tilda (2007). Stretch Out Your Hand: Exploring Healing Prayer. Cleveland: Pilgrim Press. Norberg is a United Methodist minister and founder of Gestalt Pastoral Care.
[2] Koenig, John (1997). Healing. Dorothy C. Bass (ed.), Practicing Our Faith. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
[3] Migliore, Daniel L. (2004). Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans).

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Linguistics and Exodus Patterns

How was it possible for the Gibeonites to negotiate their contract with Joshua (Joshua 9:3-17) or for Rahab to work out her deal with Joshua’s spies (Joshua 2.1, 3; 6.17, 23, 25)? If the Jews were newly arrived as a united force, they most probably would have spoken Egyptian and communication with locals would have been difficult. From the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings it appears the incoming tribes of Israel settled most interactions with the edge of a sword, not dialogue and negotiation.
[A note on usage: The term "Hebrew" describes a language. It also was used in ancient times for Israelites or their ancestors living as resident aliens in another jurisdiction and for Israelites in slavery. The people of Judah spoke Judahite or Canaanite. In premodern English it was synonymous with "Jew." (Coogan, p. 86)]
Perhaps most people spoke a similar language. And, perhaps they spoke a common language because the Jews were, in fact, indigenous people tied by a loosely understood oral history that later developed into the kind of united exodus story we read about in Joshua?
The Habiru (or Apiru) were a nomadic or semi-nomadic people living in northeastern Mesopotamia and Iran to the borders of Egypt in Canaan.[1] The word Habiru and Hebrew are remarkably similar. The Amarna letters (exchanged between Fertile Crescent city states and Egypt) indicate the Habiru lived as far north as Damascus and Bylos, and as far south as Jerusalem. Some researchers conclude the Habiru did not have common linguistic or ethnic affiliations and refer to them as a “loosely defined, inferior social class composed of shifting and shifty population elements without secure ties to settled communities” who are referred to “as outlaws, mercenaries, and slaves.”[2] Perhaps not savory but probably clever and resourceful. 
As for lawlessness, we know from Judges 17.6, In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.”
Gibeon, home of the Gibeonites, was located just north of Jerusalem and Shittim (a.k.a. Abila, Abel-Shittim or Ha-Shittim), where Rahab lived, was located in Moab. The Gibeonites also were a “remnant” of the Amorites, according to 2 Samuel 21:2, and these nomadic people are said to have occupied large parts of Mesopotamia. Economic conditions in Assyria and Baylon also may have contributed to the number of Habiru living in the Promised Land, perhaps contributing to the long-held negative feelings between Israelites, the Assyrians and the Babylonians.
It seems likely the nomadic Habiru could communicate easily with the people of Gibeon and Shittim. Hebrew is part of the Canaanite group of languages, which includes Moabite from the south and Phoenician from the north, and is closely related to Aramaic.
The theory the Habiru were progenitors to the Israelites (a.k.a., the Hebrews) appeals to me and goes a long way toward explaining the incremental occupation of the Promised Land. That said, we also learn from the Amarna letters about Habiru launching successful attacks by sea, in particular on Alalakh, but there is no mention of the Hebrews attacking by boat in the Hebrew Bible.
There is extensive controversy around this subject, with some speculating the Habiru either were  not organized enough at any point in time to form a nation or came along after Saul, David and Solomon pulled Israel together.
This is very rich biblical soil and wild conjecture based loosely on our readings is all space and time currently permit.
I’m wondering whether there are any clear resources on linguistic migrations throughout the Middle East and whether such data would shed any light on this subject.



[1] McNeil, William H. and Jean W Sedlar. The Ancient Near East. London: Oxford University Press (1991).
[2] Redmount, Carol A. Bitter Lives: Israel in and out of Egypt, The Oxford History of the Biblical World, (Michael D. Coogan, ed.). London: Oxford University Press (1999).

Pergatory's Origin?


[Thought exercise]

The Cities of Refuge in Joshua 20 strike me as similar to a living purgatory in which people await judgment. One major difference is that you don't have to die to enter a City of Refuge. By deciding to seek refuge, one tacitly admits to having perpetrated at least manslaughter, with a ruling on murder to be determined.

The Cities of Refuge strike me as a brilliant act of social engineering. While living in Japan I learned it is customary to admit to one's crimes, and to not do so was a humiliation for you and your family. In most countries today, including the United States, criminals are given a break if they admit to their crimes.

The Cities of Refuge, which are mentioned by God to Moses in Numbers 35.6, 9, 11, 13 and 14, as well as Deuteronomy 4.41 and 19.1, were to be established "so that anyone who kills a person without intent or by mistake may flee there. ... The slayer shall flee to one of these cities and shall stand at the entrance of the gate of the city, and explain the case to the elders of that city; then the fugitive shall be taken into the city, and given a place, and shall remain with them. And if the avenger of blood is in pursuit, they shall not give up the slayer, because the neighbor was killed by mistake, there having been no enmity between them before."

A modern jail is not dissimilar. Saved from vigilante justice, the perpetrator can remain safe pending adjudication.

One point of particular interest is whether there should be a penalty for manslaughter. The passage states the "slayer shall remain in that city until there is a trial before the congregation, until the death of the one who is high priest at the time: then the slayer may return home, to the town in which the deed was done." Does this mean the slayer should remain in the town until he is judged OR the head priest dies, or does it mean he should remain in the town until judged and, even if found innocent of murder, should stay until the high priest dies?

"These were the cities designated for all the Israelites, and for the aliens residing among them, that anyone who killed a person without intent could flee there, so as not to die by the hand of the avenger of blood, until there was a trial before the congregation."

A Defining Moment


[Silly thought exercise, don't even bother to read]

While reading Joshua I was struck by the expression "and the Israelites blessed God." I think of blessing as something a superior does to an inferior, or at least an exchange between peers. This passage prompted me to do some research, whereby I learned the many, many alternative meanings of "blessed," including to revere, beatify, make blissful or happy, and recognize as worthy of worship. The expression "blessed God" only appears three times in the Hebrew Bible: Joshua 22.33; Zariah and the Three Jews 1.28; and Susannah 1.60.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Social Engineering and the Deuteronomistic Historian

The Deuteronomist (D) was either an individual or a group of Yahwists believed to have been writing and editing during the time of the Babylonian exile in the mid-sixth century B.C.E., and possibly working in two stages known as Dtr1 and Dtr2.

In some ways it does not matter whether D was Baruch ben Neriah or his boss, Jeremiah, or a group of scholars. What is important is that they had a coherent goal of making sense out of the exile by bringing order to a collection of scattered and sometimes contradictory stories.

E. Theodore Mullen, Jr., who wrote Narrative History and Ethnic Boundaries: The Deuteronomistic Historian and the Creation of Israelite National Identity[1], contends D was trying to make sense of the exile crisis. Mullen calls D’s work part of a “social drama” in which theological concerns are being linked to events on the ground. In keeping with the unifying theory of D, Mullen states, “Judah could and would support only the offspring of David—a political situation created and sustained to perfection within the deuteronomistic narrative propaganda.” D is crafting a "social manifesto of Israelite ethnic identity."

Relevant to our current studies, Mullen dedicates a lengthy discussion to the “necessity” of kingship. He includes discussion on what some called the “golden age” under the Davidic dynasty, which appears to have been important to D. What is ironic to me is that David was not a perfect ruler, yet he was not treated as badly as Saul (I’m thinking of consulting the medium in 1 Samuel 28 and other spots). David, considered a model for kings to come, had a saucy affair with Bathsheba, looked on while discontent ravaged his family and followers, and did not built the Temple to Yahweh as promised (even though God said he could let it go). These are not the markings of the perfect king and yet he was blessed by God with a never-ending dynasty.

As an aside, in 1 Samuel 1:28 there is reference to sha'ul, which is the same as Saul's name in Hebrew. Coogan and others say it is possible the start of 1 Samuel originally was about Saul, not Samuel, but was rewritten because D needed Saul to be a bad buy to build up David.

As Coogan states, "Deuteronomistic Historians are not writing a social history but are presenting a theological perspective on the establishment of the monarchy through the vehicle of narrative of the principal characters."

One is left to wonder about today’s revisionist historians and spin doctors who choose to put their agenda – even if as laudable as promoting social cohesion – ahead of the facts. As we think about the role D played in redacting the books of Samuel and Kings, we might want to consider the following quote from Coogan: "As is the case with David, we find no independent corroboration for Solomon's reign, and, apart from Hiram, the king of Tyre, no individual or event mentioned in the biblical sources is attested in contemporaneous nonbiblical sources."




[1] Narrative History and Ethnic Boundaries: The Deuteronomistic Historian and the Creation of Israelite National Identity, by E. Theodore Mullen, Jr. SBLSS. Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1993

Eunuchs on My Mind

We’ve all heard it said that God works in mysterious ways. Humorously, two apparently unrelated events recently found synchronicity around the word “eunuch.”

I recently had cause to investigate the definition of “eunuch” as it may pertain to homosexuals, priests and the castrati. I blogged on this subject earlier (see “Pastoral Counseling and the Old Testament”) and so will not go into the details here. That investigation had to do with the character Joseph in the Book of Genesis. I also recently had cause to address the subject of feminist theology and the role women played in the Hebrew Bible.

Here’s the coincidence: While attending the AAPC Central Region Conference at Garrett Theological Seminary I stepped into the library and looked into the box of books available for exchange. Right at the top of the stack was a book by Uta Ranke-Heinemann titled Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven: Women, Sexuality, and the Catholic Church.

This rather ardent text examines a variety of subjects surrounding sex, but especially the role of women and gay men as eunuchs throughout Judeo-Christian history. (It also discusses onanism if anyone is interested.) Although ostensibly focused on the Catholic Church, it extensively examines gender issues in the Hebrew Bible and links to ancient religions from nearby nations.

Just as ancient contributors to the Hebrew Bible appear to have had few reservations about altering history to advance a particular narrative – the Deuteronomist comes to mind – I believe we have license to look back and interpret the stories in ways that have relevance to our lives today. This is partially what Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven does.

Moses and Joshua Parallels

Judging from the treatment of Saul, David and Solomon, the Deuteronomist (D) clearly has an interest in promoting dynastic stability, especially as a vehicle for promoting defense. From my perspective, it also does not look theologically sound for the chosen people of Israel to be in disarray, whether in the way they came to occupy the land as a united force under Joshua, or under a series of fumbling kings.

Reaching back, I’m attracted to the strong parallels between Moses and Joshua and am wondering whether D had a hand in casting them as strikingly similar people. Some of the coincidences seem to create a mythic quality for both leaders.

Some of the parallels between Moses and Joshua include:

·      Sending out spies to scope land prior to invasion;
·      Crossing bodies of water that “heap” up out of the way;
·      Celebrating Passover to mark major events;
·      Having visions prior to major events;
·      Intervening between God and the people on the people’s behalf
·      Obeying divine instructions; and
·      Delivering farewell addresses immediately before they die.

What other parallels would we find with Judah?

If D did have a hand in creating similarities between Moses and Joshua – as it apparently did in smoothing out the rough spots through Samuel and Kings – one wonders for whom he was writing. Why was it so important many centuries after the fact to demonstrate continuity in Jewish history?

Perhaps it has to do with the fundamental human need to explain events in terms of cause and effect. After all, D is fond of the expression “to this very day,” demonstrating he is trying to explain to his contemporaries that the world is not chaotic and the course of history led logically to his present moment. If history looks chaotic, then perhaps there is no guiding hand of YHWH – a simply unimaginable thought.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Pastoral Counseling and the Old Testament


[The following was written as an extra-curricular exercise for my class on Theology and Pastoral Counseling. It regards a case study we are reading. A section relevant to the Hebrew Bible falls near the end. This is a thought exercise and not an assignment of any kind. No replies are expected although all respectful criticism is welcome.]

Gary is gay. I admit to bringing to my analysis hypersensitivity around this subject but all the indicators are there.

Red flags went up when I first started reading he Gary case study in Chapter 5 of Shared Wisdom by Cooper-White. The first profile items to leap at me included: lives with cats, drinks white wine, and eats quiche; drives a spiffy car; and is a fastidious, judgmental, and narcissistic perfectionist.

Gary’s effete characteristics play into stereotypes of gay men but are not without precedent. Some of these characteristics are compensation strategies designed to demonstrate uniqueness and worthiness to a world that often perceives gay men as less than full citizens. The case study attempts to explain Gary’s behavior as an attempt to over-compensate for his family’s socio-economic status but ignores the possibility that it is driven by a sense of “otherness” and inferiority borne from his sexual orientation.

Gary is 40-something and single. “His perfectionist habits have spoiled two serious relationships, and his perfectionism has further inhibited him from forming close relationships or romantic ties, because no one is ever quite perfect enough to suit him,” we read. In common parlance it is normal to omit gender-specific pronouns when referring to same-sex relationships as a way of disguising the truth, e.g., “My ‘partner’ and I went to the theatre.”

Gary is an alcoholic – perhaps not a “problem drinker” but an alcoholic. Routine alcohol consumption is used throughout the gay community to suppress feelings of inferiority while lowering inhibitions against same-sex encounters.

Gary, not his father, has an overly intimate relationship with the maternal figures in his life. He was his mother’s emotional and spiritual partner, and projects his mother expectations onto his female supervisor.

Gary would have been the third child born to his mother but ended up as a sensitive only child. The incidence of homosexuality increase with the number of children a woman carries.

Gary's uncle Bob is gay and in a long-term relationship with Steve. The genetic influences behind homosexuality are well established. In examining the genogram, this case study overlooks the gay uncle.

Gary only has hostile relationships with the heterosexual men in his life – his father, his mother’s boyfriend, and his client’s husband. The case study attributes his hostility straight men to a disdain for alcoholism, irresponsibility and absenteeism. This attitude toward also can be explained as a response to internalized homophobia.

Importantly, Gary identifies with the Ingemar in the movie My Life as a Dog. In this film, the protagonist is banished to a land of “eccentric villagers,” not unlike the eccentric people in Greenwich Village or the Castro. As with any gay man sent away from home, Ingemar is thrust into a position of isolation and responsibility, and feels disconnected. Eventually, however, he finds in "intimate friend" his own age. This film parallels Gary’s story, minus the happy ending.

When studying the Hebrew Bible, some scholars employ midrashim, which is a way of understanding incomplete or contradictory passages by creating “what if” scenarios, among other methods. It is not at all difficult to imagine Gary is gay and no evidence is presented to the contrary.

Unless presented with evidence to the contrary, we tend to imagine everyone is like us. For many Americans, that may mean assuming Gary is a heterosexual Caucasian Anglo-Saxon Protestant. As pointed out in Chapter 4 regarding the case study of Yvonne, we see those types of assumptions can be misleading. The fact Yvonne and her counselor are African American plays an important role in understanding their motivations.
In the entirety of Shared Wisdom, “sexual orientation” is only mentioned three times, and each in a list of other classifications, e.g., race, gender, religion, etc. On two of the three occasions the words “sexual orientation” appear in editor’s brackets ([xxx]) as if to say, “Don’t bother to read this.”

Cooper-White found time to discuss quantum physics and the theory of relativity in a book on pastoral care and counseling but didn’t find time to discuss same-sex attraction and the social and religious complications it creates. I believe Cooper-White, in compiling the composite character Gary, consciously or subconsciously omitted Gary’s sexual orientation. My fear is that she did so to smooth the reading experience for an audience hostile to the age-old reality of homosexuality.

To bring a theological edge back to the conversation, I would like to examine the etymology of the word "eunuch." Although interpretations differ, one version holds that the word "eunuch" is derived from the Greek words eune (bed) and ekhein (to keep), hence "bed keeper," and only by extension does it mean a literally or figuratively castrated male. They are men who could not have children and were not attracted to women, and therefore safe to have as titular heads of house. Far from being disdained, eunuchs were placed in positions of authority as chamberlains, officers and officials.

In discussing marriage, no less a source than Jesus Christ said in Matthew 19.12:
For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can.

We understand this passage to include gay men, castrated men, and celibate priests.
In Isaiah 56:3-5 we read:
Do not let the foreigner joined to the LORD say,
 “The LORD will surely separate me from his people”;

and do not let the eunuch say,
 “I am just a dry tree.”
For thus says the LORD:

To the eunuchs who keep my sabbaths,
 who choose the things that please me
 and hold fast my covenant,
I will give, in my house and within my walls,
 a monument and a name

 better than sons and daughters;
I will give them an everlasting name
 that shall not be cut off.


It would be a huge mistake for a counselor to ignore their own sexual orientation as part of the countertransference self-evaluation. Were I to counsel Gary, I might bring these passages to his attention (and join him in laughing away the double entendre behind “shall not be cut off.”)

Monday, October 12, 2009

Online Resources for Reading the Bible and Text Book Together

Rather than contaminate the professor's blog with my freshman take on things I thought I would share here some ideas related to Dr. Lester's recommendation that we read the Bible and Coogan at the same time.

First, I agree and think I should do more of that. But, to the degree I do read both simultaneously, I like to use the following two resources to quickly locate my Bible sources: http://bible.thelineberrys.com/ and http://bible.oremus.org/.

Both allow me to examine the NRSV and find passages lightening fast. They also make quoting from the Bible easier using cut and paste operations.

Contemporary Midrashim


Interpreting the Bible can be difficult, especially when facts contradict or are missing. The Midrash are a collection of Jewish commentaries on Hebrew scriptures that attempt to fill in some of the gaps and iron out some of the wrinkles. Usually thought of as having been written between 400 and 1,200 C.E., some scholars engage in Contemporary Midrash.
This new form of biblical examination goes a long way to breathing life into a document some consider irrelevant to modern life. Contemporary Midrash can include dance, poetry, painting, music, etc. It is being used by students and teachers, young and old, men and women, scholars and lay people to cast ancient stories in a modern context. This art form also aims to include those otherwise disenfranchised from the Hebrew Bible, including women and sexual minorities.
Examples include imaginary conversations between Bible characters, painting using contemporary techniques to convey the emotions of Bible scenes, modern dance depicting Bible stories, etc.
To avoid any copyright problems, try visiting the following link to read a little more about Contemporary Midrash and see some art that fits the mold: http://www.jewishpress.com/Content.cfm?contentid=37866

All Out of Nothing: Faith, Meaning and Life

[The following is an essay for my Theology for Pastoral Counselors class. As I am a work in progress, so too is this document and the ideas expressed.]
    I believe transcendence is not only part of the human condition but an integral factor behind the existence of all things. I believe many problems are linked to an unreasonable attachment to this world and many answers reside in the transcendent realm. I believe each person’s ability to access this realm in search of meaning is influenced by the particular paradigm of understanding from which they operate. In this sense, I believe in a personal God to which we can turn for answers and direction.
I derive meaning from acceptance of the idea all things – ideas, emotions, objects, actions, people, animals, plants, whatever – are in a constant state of change, and therefore impermanent and fundamentally empty. Our sense of reality – transcendental or mundane – is a product of our minds and the illusion we are separate from all other things. A constant stream of cause-and-effect relationships underlies the principle of perpetual creation, a seamless process of simultaneous construction and destruction. Individual experience can never be accurately communicated with symbols or rituals. All such endeavors are merely referential and gesticular. Each person comprehends and internalizes their unique relationship with the worlds of sense and transcendence using both logos and mythos.
The poetic irony is that, because we all enjoy unique lives, we share the experience of perceived uniqueness. As a result, much of what it is to be human common and relating to one another on the most intimate levels should be as easy as accepting our shared adventure on this planet. The truth is, finding connections is a challenge for almost everyone.
Regarding mission, I believe faith entails a priori assumptions about what is true yet beyond my ability to perceive. Meaning without truth is hollow, and truth stems from the degree to which meaning can be implemented. As the Book of James says, “[J]ust as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is also dead.”[i] I interpret this to mean we should act on the things in which we believe and leaving these beliefs as pure abstractions robs them of their true power.
Here is the fundamental challenge: All things, regardless of how defined, are constantly changing. The implication is meaning can be derived at any instantaneous point during a thing’s birth, life and death, but meaning ultimately is ephemeral, and the final purpose of all things is to change into something else. Just as God brings order out of chaos, it also returns order to chaos. Comfort stems from accepting and embracing life’s dynamics. From my freshman perspective, it seems as though the pastoral counselor’s mission is to help clients see the underlying causes of their problems while accepting the very real possibility nothing – not their successes or their failures, not their hopes or their fears, nothing – is static.
I have trouble thinking about faith, meaning and especially spirituality as separate from myself. This uncomfortable feeling is most obvious when I try to discuss the nature of God in the third person. For me, God is a state or quality of transience. It is the fundamental creative path of all things. I am inseparable from this phenomenon.
Specific things have positive or negative meaning to the degree they advance or retard the underlying fluidity. Things can be good or bad in an ethical sense but not in a moral sense. A thing that facilitates creativity reduces pain while a thing that destabilizes change causes suffering. “Letting go” enables God’s grace to work unimpeded. God is the process by which a block of stone is turned to a statue, whether beautiful or ugly. The sculptor facilitates this process of transformation while the vandal inhibits it. We call the artist good and the thug bad.
Using the term loosely, my sense of “spirituality” is driven by a desire to find a unifying theory. That is not to say our respective faith perspectives must be identical or even synchronistic, but that I must be able to explain my transpersonal and metaphysical thoughts in a coherent way that relies on more than a hunch. I have difficulty stepping back and accepting mystery on its own terms.
This frustrating need for intellectual integrity was spawned from a tumultuous religious upbringing from which I inherited the notion no person or institution had a monopoly on truth, spirituality was subjective, and each individual had to find a framework of understanding that suited them.
I hardly remember attending Methodist church as a child. I do, however, remember adults exhibiting hardscrabble resourcefulness and independence. They were people of the land and practicality ruled the day. As an only child in Ann Arbor I was introduced to hippies and free love, alcohol and marijuana, African Americans and Latinos, and to the extended family in Unitarian Universalism. When my mother married an Episcopal minister, I became briefly interested in Christianity and was confirmed at a small church in Vermilion, Ohio.  At university I adopted agnosticism, then graduated to secular humanist utilitarianism. It was during these years I came to embrace Modern Movement theories about the power of science to answer all questions. I agree with Karen Armstrong when she argues the advent of Modernism encouraged the modern sense of atheism.[ii]
Also as a young adult I made substance abuse a way of life. The following by Dennis Ford is salient:
Alcoholism, drug addiction, sexual obsessions, and adventurousness – in which meaning remains, but only while engaged in extreme and risky activities, including violence – have all been attributed to misguided and finally self-destructive attempts to suppress the question of meaning by drowning in instinctual behavior. [iii]
Recovery was only possible with the help of Alcoholics Anonymous.[iv] In the context of this seminal 12-step recovery program I sought a “power greater than myself” using the kind of spiritual pragmatism described by William James.[v] Later I found guidance through Native American spirituality and the Mankind Project, where I worked on archetype modeling.[vi] In recent years I took a Postmodern Movement approach to life while studying Buddhism and Religious Science[vii].
The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.[viii] This observation applies to the cosmos, to Earth, to plants and animals, and to me. When such ingredients as fruit, sugar, starch, flower, butter, and eggs are combined in a particular manner then baked, we create something different than the sum of the constituent parts – we have a pie. This pastry has an aesthetic, commercial, and nourishing life of its own. This “greater than” quality connects me to all people and things. I am more than a collection of cognitive and emotional responses to my environment. As a youth I argued communication was the glue that allowed society to be greater than the sum of its homo sapien constituents. This belief explains in part why I became a journalist. Today I perceive a “self” or “soul” similar to that described by Richard Schwartz in his Internal Family Systems Model,[ix] or perhaps like Buddha Nature (Buddha-dhatu). This new notion helps explain why I now pursue pastoral counseling.
Regardless of how the pie is sliced – what size or shape the pieces – Aristotle was correct when he said, “[A]ll things flow and nothing stands.”[x] By example, the Chicago River is both permanent and reliable but also changing from second to second as molecules drift and fish swim. The Chicago River is simultaneously greater than the sum of its parts – an entity with a life of its own – and completely empty and evanescent.[xi]
Mind distills substance from the emptiness. In this sense, I believe we “dream” ourselves into existence out of the eternal ocean of perpetual creativity: God. Working in harmony with God, our minds allow us to render coherence out of the maelstrom. Our collective dream – the sense ego is separate from the external world[xii] – is harmonized by the lessons and expectations into which we are born, as with the modern concept of nomos and the concomitant notions of externalization, objectification and internalization.[xiii] The subjectivity of our experience, especially of our transcendent world, means Baal and Thor and Elohim are equally real to those who believe, and should be respected as such. The individual must ask, “How is my concept of transcendent reality working for me?”
Compassion is the only emotion I feel when accepting the notion we all of the same stuff – a benign creative force – and operating under the same delusion of binary thinking – me and it, I and thou.
I once had a dream about the way multiple dimensions may fold in upon themselves to create the fundamental forces – electromagnetism, strong and weak interaction, and gravitation – that lead to the world as we perceive it.[xiv] In this dream I had an epiphany: What I think is the external phenomena by which reality is created is actually what my mind does to assemble the world around me. At the instant of this realization, all images, thoughts and emotions in my mind became completely malleable and interchangeable. I realized the complete plasticity of my human experience. I was overcome by a feeling of warm compassion for all sentient creatures that, like myself, are fumbling along, desperately trying to make sense of an otherwise terrifying and seemingly meaningless world.
Upon awakening I was enveloped by the illusion of my concrete world, which pressed upon me all the demands of my half biological, half symbolic life.[xv] I found myself again embroiled in ego clinking and the endless push and pull of my samsaric existence.[xvi]
Science tries to objectively describe the laws by which the physical world operates. I believe these laws reflect cause-and-effect principles originated in the ether from which I emerged. Just as a wave propagates another wave, so too does love beget love, negativity beget negativity, and so on. Faith in this concept of cause and effect underlies my two regular spiritual practices – Religious Science and Buddhism – and forms the backdrop of my daily meditations.
Living a good life is a bit like standing on a boat. One must be flexible enough to let the deck shift beneath one’s feet while at the same time maintaining enough balance to not fall overboard. The captain does not control the wind’s direction, and cannot travel directly into it, but can leverage the prevailing forces, tacking back and forth to reach his goal.


Endnotes


[i] James 2:26. New Revised Standard Version Bible (2006). San Francisco: HarperCollins.
[ii] Armstrong, Karen (2009). The Case for God. Toronto: Alfred A. Knopf.
[iii] Ford, Denis (2007). The Search for Meaning: A Short History (p. 14). Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press.
[iv] Alcoholics Anonymous (1939). New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services.
[v] James, William (1897). The Will to Believe [Electronic version]. New World. Retrieved September 27, 2009.
[vi] Mankind Project was formerly known as New Warrior. It finds its roots in the men’s movement started by such people as Robert Bly, author of Iron John (1990), and Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette, authors of King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine (1990).
[vii] Holmes, Ernest (1938). The Science of Mind: A Philosophy, A Faith, A Way of Life. New York: R.M. McBride and Co. Religious Science and Science of Mind are synonymous.
[viii] Holism as articulated by Aristotle in Metaphysics, Book VIII, Part 6. The original quote as translated by W.D. Ross is, “In the case of all things which have several parts and in which the totality is not, as it were, a mere heap, but the whole is something beside the parts, there is a cause; for even in bodies contact is the cause of unity in some cases, and in others viscosity or some other such quality.
[ix] Schwartz, R.C. (1995). Internal Family Systems Therapy. New York: Guilford Press.
[x] Heracleitus as quoted by Plato in Cratylus.
[xi] Emptiness is a tenant of Buddhism. The following quote from the Dalai Lama from Stages of Meditation (2003) is typical: “Although there are as many categories of emptiness as there are types of phenomena, when you realize the emptiness of one specific phenomenon, you also realize the emptiness of all phenomena. The ultimate nature, or emptiness, of all phenomena is of equal taste and of the same undifferentiable nature.”
[xii] Schucman, Helen and William Thetford. A Course in Miracles (1976).
[xiii] Berger, Peter L. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociology of Religion. New York. Anchor Books. 1967.
[xiv]  M Theory, for example, as a subset of String theory, describes 11 dimensions.
[xv]  Ford, p. 17.
[xvi] Buddhists describe samsara as the world of relative reality in which we live, a place of ego-clinging that  triggers attachment and aversion to things near and far.

Moses and Freud(ian) Analysis


While digging through the archives to research my Literature of Ancient Israel term paper I stumbled on some interesting conjecture regarding Moses. This material loosely ties into the subject we currently are studying in class: the emergence of Jews from Egypt.


Near the end of his life, Sigmund Freud in 1939 published a book titled Moses and Monotheism in which he hypothesized Moses was an Egyptian who learned monotheism from then Pharaoh Akhenaten. The controversial book advances a theory that is roughly synchronistic with the Gradual Infiltration theory of Levant settlement.


Although not a great deal is known about his reign, there is evidence Akhenaten attempted to shift Egypt’s polytheism to focus on Aten. In truth, worship of Aten included other gods, thereby creating a henotheism rather than a monotheism.
Freud’s theory is that Moses, an Atenist priest, only led a small tribe out of Egypt and into Canaan after Akhenaten’s death. The story holds that Moses was killed by his own tribe, which later came to regret their decision and introduced the concept of a messiah as a foreshadowing of Moses’s return. The Moses tribe then merged with a volcano-worshiping monotheistic tribe in Midian, Freud says.


Akhenaten was Pharaoh for a relatively long 17 years and died in roughly 1336 B.C.E. As part of his embrace of Aten, Akhenaten is said to have changed his name from Amenhotep IV. It is said traditional polytheism returned to Egypt after Akhenaten’s death. Interestingly, King Tutankhamun is thought to have been one of his sons, although not born to his wife, Nefertiti.


In 1987 Egyptologist Ahmed Osman published Stranger in the Valley of the Kings, in which he claims Joseph of Genesis fame was a man named Yuya, the father-in-law of Amenhotep III, who in turn was the father of Akhenaten. To complicate things, some biblical scholars project that both Akhenaten and Joseph were transgender.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Faith in Faith

Throughout the Latter Prophets we read oracles and judgments against people near and far. There’s a fascinating blame game going on as Bible contributors and editors attempt to explain the human behavior behind war and exile, peace and stability. The finger pointing goes on and on.

In Isaiah we read about the Oracle concerning Assyria, Oracle concerning Philistia, Oracle concerning Moab, Oracle concerning Damascus, Oracle concerning Ethiopia, Oracle concerning Egypt, Oracles concerning Babylon, Edom, and Arabia, and an Oracle concerning Tyre. Jeremiah issues judgements against Philistines, Moab, Ammonites, Edom, Damascus, Kedar and Hazor, Elam, and Babylon. Ezekiel rails against Ammon, Moab, Edom, Philistia, Tyre, Sidon, Egypt, the Pharaoh, Mount Seir, and the imaginary Gog. Amos is hot for Israel’s neighbors, Judah and Israel. The list is almost endless.

Ultimately, God must be behind these otherwise inexplicable acts of aggression -- invasion by Egypt, invasion by Assyria, invasion by Babylon, invasion by Persia, etc. He must be punishing the Assyrians for boasting, or punishing the Babylonians for going God’s work against the Jews too well and for too long, or against Israel’s rulers for not properly leading the people, or against the people for not obeying the laws or playing the whore, etc.

Concepts such as human greed or lust for power, or need for arable land or water don’t seem to come up as legitimate explanations for the brutal behavior about which we read. It seems that nothing bad can happen without God having been involved in some way. Yet at no time do we read about an Oracle Against Yahweh. At no time do the people just give up on this apparently cruel and capricious God. Faith holds fast despite evidence to the contrary.

The importance of faith and religion as a binding force for a people, especially in times of stress, cannot be overstated. Just as God is presumed to have brought order from the chaos, so too does religion help provide meaning when events seem chaotic and inexplicable. As Monica McGoldrick said in Ethnicity and Family Therapy: “People use religion as a means of coping with stress or powerlessness, as well as for spiritual fulfillment and emotional support. Institutionalized religion and the church also meet social needs.”


Sunday, October 4, 2009

Cognitive Dissonance and the Exile


Pre- and Post-Exilic attitudes toward God reflect a classic case of sociological cognitive dissonance. The Exile from Judah and Israel presented a classic problem of theodicy: If God is all powerful, why would he let this happen to his chosen people?

When presented with the “problem of pain,” as C.S. Lewis called it, the Jews first started blaming one-another, then adopted what strikes me as a curious solution: There is only one God and all of us must have done something wrong to deserve this terrible situation at the hands of the Babylonians. Wouldn’t that mean that the Jews who were not exiled were “good” while the ones who were exiled were “bad?” That’s certainly not how the returnees saw it.

Then, when the Babylonians punished the Jews for too long, God turned against his minions for having done wrong, just as he turned against the Assyrians for having boasted over their conquests.

When established beliefs came into direct conflict with facts on the ground, many theological options became available. What happened to other equally valid ideas? Maybe God didn’t exist and life is simply nasty, brutish and short. Maybe the God of Israel was weaker than the Babylon’s Marduk. Maybe the teleological argument casting God as a watchmaker who wound the universe then walked away was true.

Cognitive dissonance is defined as the “uncomfortable” feeling that arises when beliefs come into conflict, usually with reality. Perhaps I believe God punishes the wicked, yet the wicked seem to prosper. Maybe I believe God is just, yet he tortures Job. The most troubling forms of cognitive dissonance are rooted in the realization that things we believe about ourselves are wrong. Intrinsically motivated to resolve dissonance, humans tend to adjust beliefs while twisting truth to the point the pieces fit back together.

Unresolved cognitive dissonance often manifests itself as shame, embarrassment, stress, guilt, and anxiety, all of which we see reflected in Bible passages referencing the Exile.