Archive for the ‘Judaism’ Category
Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
Question:
In the Exodus rendition of God’s self-description, the syntax takes on expansive meanings: “I am who I am” could be “I will be what I will be” or “I am what I will be”.
God continues in the passage to describe Himself in relationship to mankind as the “God of your fathers”, etc. It would be nice to better understand what God meant (or Moses’s interpretation) of that event.
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Wowza. There’s something to keep a mind moving in the morning.
In short, in Exodus 3:13 and following, God lets God’s name slip. YHWH.
But the name YHWH has been keeping people awake ever since, and apparently you too have maybe lost a few minutes wrangling with it.
Why YHWH? What does that mean?
Bernhard Anderson, Old Testament theologian, calls this text “one of the most cryptic passages in the Old Testament.”
I’d add that to your fantastic adjective “expansive!”
To Moses’ “simple” question, God offers three responses.
1. “I am who I am,” or “I will be who I will be;”
2. “I am;”
3. “The God of your ancestors…”
We have been terribly interested in this “be-ing” piece, this name that in Hebrew is rendered YHWH.
The first person form of the Hebrew word for the verb “to be” is ‘ehyeh. In Hebrew, it would be spelled (transliterated into English now of course!) HYH, namely “I am.” The third person form of this verb (namely “he is”) is YHWH.
Anderson lays out three different ways of thinking through this odd choice of a name, and I’ll lay them out in turn. (All of the following is found in Understanding the Old Testament, 4th Edition, p. 60 and following).
1. One line of thinking puts out there that originally in the text, the word was based on the Hebrew verb for “cause to be,” as in “He makes things happen.” In other words, in the context of the text, it reads, “I bring things into being.” This works nicely grammatically and theologically, if the agenda were to make the case that God was the creator of all things. Martin Noth notes that the “to be” verb used here does not imply merely “existing,” but rather active being, movement. (Exodus: A Commentary, 1962, p. 45).
2. Another theory is that YWHW should be understood simply as “I am.” Some, says Anderson, don’t particularly like this approach, because the idea of thinking about God in some eternal sort of way wasn’t really an issue for the ancient Israelites; it’s actually more of a Greek concern.
That said, the Israelites were concerned about developing an idea about God who was, is, and will continue to be involved in history. Another twist on this approach maintains that the point is that YHWH is, rather than other gods. Anderson quotes R. de Vaux who wrote that the implication here is that YHWH “is the only one who exists for Israel.”
3. Last is the idea that the name means “I will be,” in a future-bound sort of way. Here is a sense of comfort and promise. Moses will not be going forth alone, but rather with God, and the Israelites will not be left alone, but will be with God. As Anderson writes, “…the divine name signifies God, whose being is turned toward the people, who is present in their midst as deliverer, guide, and judge, and who is accessible in worship.”
That said, the text suggests that God is not 100% sure that it’s a good idea to reveal the divine name, for fear that people will try and use it for their own purposes. Think, for a moment, of how wars, church battles, justifications for personal deeds, are engaged with the assumption that “God is on my side.” So the interpretation above implies that God retains control of God’s identity, as in, “I will be whom I will be, not whom you want me to be.”
Still, once you know the name of someone, you can be in relationship. A name can be said in gentleness, love, anger, rejection, consolation, jest. With this in mind, that God offered YHWH suggests God’s willingness to be vulnerable and accessible. In other words, not only the name is of interest here, but the very offering of the name is too. See Terrance Frethiem here, in Interpretation: Exodus, pp. 64 and following.
Much more could be said regarding the name YHWH. Anderson concedes that the “honest truth is that we do not know for sure the source from which Moses received the name Yahweh.” That said, he goes on, the most important matter is what the name meant to early Israel. Here, it seems as if the name YHWH was bound up with the Exodus event, a God who, to quote Exodus 20:2, “I am Yahweh your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.”
To that degree, the name YHWH could continue to have relevance for those who call still upon that name. God continues to be, to be creative, to be involved, and to bring new things into being.
Posted in Christianity, God's Relevancy, Judaism, Reader Questions, Scripture | 2 Comments »
Tuesday, April 27th, 2010
Question: Why doesn’t God make things more evident, such as important life and death decisions, or directions to take in life or in ministry. I’m not saying that God would do so with miraculous signs or anything, but why not at some point in the process of trying to figure out the next best step, at least tip his hand a little. Does God enjoy sitting back and watching us screw things up?
Naturally, I’ll start to answer this question with….psychology!
Donald Winnicott (1896-1971) was a British psychoanalyst who researched differing parental styles and their effects on children. To sketch out the points relevant to this cool question, at one end of the parenting spectrum is authoritarian parenting; at the other, attachment parenting.
Children raised in a household with authoritarian parents have little, if any, opportunity to develop their own selves. Instead, they are forced to craft their being according to the parental demands and expectations. The primary parental goal is obedience; when the child is perceived as being disobedient, they are punished. The parent determines everything, e.g., when and on what basis the baby gets fed, gets affection, and gets affirmation. The relationship created is based on fear and/or obligation; less on love and respect. The child conforms into what the parent wants, and develops into what Winnicott named “a false self.”
On the contrary, children raised in a household with parents who invest themselves in attachment parenting are not only allowed, but encouraged, to develop their own identities. They are expected to make mistakes, and are loved in spite of them and through them. The primary parental goal is love, and the relationship created is based on trust and engenders respect and investment in each other’s lives.
Enter Walter Brueggemann, Old Testament theologian, who likes Winnicott. In a fantastic book called Israel’s Praise: Doxology against Idolatry and Ideology, Brueggemann wrote, “I propose that if God is experienced in doxology as always unqualifiedly good, fixed, sovereign, in charge, never acting, never impinged upon, it leads worshippers who are docile, passive, and who finally act in bad faith to please God, whatever they may in fact feel.”
So the upshot is that Bruggemann sees that just as some children learn to appease the parent preemptively, so too do some people of God. That is, out of fear of being damned or punished even in the here and now, people do what they think God wants. Even praise can become “false” because it is based on doing what God demands as opposed to welling up out of thankfulness and trust. Lament is not an option, anger, questioning, dispute unthinkable.
Yet in that process, the children/people of God have little if any ownership of the task at hand, let alone in their relationship to God. They become automatons, puppets, of their parental figure.
Yuck.
Now, I imagine that it is possible that God could have chosen to script our lives for us, or to give us absolute direction.
But would that not have created something like a world of chess, with one player moving “us” inanimate, wooden pieces around?
Or, even if one assumes that the “pieces” can lift up their heads and receive a hint of a nod from the divine player, would the chess piece have real ownership in the move, or take pride in the win?
And in point of fact, one doesn’t know what the best move is until one sees what the next player does…which is impossible until the second player sees how the first moves….or unless we’ve got a player who can see into the future, who knows a plan.
In short, I think that are troubles with hoping for a God-of-the-billboards (and who hasn’t wanted that on occasion….):
1) We could easily become passive participants in life–and even the word “participant” would be called into question, as we would lose ownership in our own choices, waiting for the “dictate” to come from on high;
2) The implications of a God who would give us clues, if not out-right directives, would include a God who then also knew the future…which would imply a God who already had life all laid out…which would also imply that we have no choice, either in small things (do we cross the street at this corner or the one up the block?) or in big things (do I take this job/marry this person/have children).
Of course, this raises the interesting question, ready for another blog….does God know all things? Does God know the future? Or is God on the edge of God’s divine seat too?
3) We would lose out on the dynamism of a living relationship, developing into Winnicott’s and Brueggemann’s “false self.” We don’t know our uniqueness, our own quirks, our own complexity, because we are so busy trying to appease God’s threatening anger and judgment.
4) Sometimes, life is messy. There might not be clear-cut, black and white answers in a given situation. Sometimes no choice is purely good…or purely bad. Sometimes we have to do as Dietrich Bonhoeffer did (German theologian who has been elevated to saint-like status in the Lutheran church–for participating in an assassination attempt against Hitler) and do what we think is best in a messy, messy world, trusting humbly in God’s grace.
What do you think?
Posted in Christianity, God's Relevancy, Judaism, Reader Questions | 3 Comments »
Friday, April 2nd, 2010
“Jews and Christians can walk together until Good Friday…” So says Pinchas Lapide, a remarkable Jewish theologian, in his book, Jewish Monotheism and Christian Trinitarian Doctrine.
Now, Lapide has much more to say following these words, thoughts that bear upon Easter Day, so stay tuned for what Lapide does with this notion.
But I believe that I would be remiss, as a Christian theologian, were I not to make mention of the Jews on Good Friday, and Lapide is as good a place to begin as any.
A dark backdrop to the Christian remembrance of Good Friday is a long-standing tradition–tradition beginning even in Christian Scripture–of anti-Semitism, of hate for the Jewish people.
How many of us have been told–and retell–that the Jews killed Jesus?
It’s not that simple. Nor is this assertion true.
Stephen Wylen has written a helpful book entitled The Jews in the Time of Jesus. In it, he lingers over the history of what occurred to Jesus vis a vis the Jewish trial.
It’s interesting.
In his chapter, “The Trial of Jesus,” he breaks down the timeline of the betrayal through until the crucifixion. I’d like to highlight just a few to offer you some mental mulling nuggets over the course of these three most holy days in the Christian calendar.
Wylen presents some pretty convincing evidence disputing not whether Jesus died, but by whom and why. In the end, he presents the possibility that Jesus was tried not by a full court of the Sanhedrin (a word meaning ‘council,’) but rather by a “kangaroo court,” a sham judicial trial led by the Jewish high priest Caiphas–himself a puppet of the Roman government.
Jesus was by all accounts a political troublemaker. He preached justice, and had a following, and people were beginning to call him ‘king.’
Those in power who like being there don’t particularly like others who threaten that state of affairs. This was true not only of some possible Jewish leaders, but more particularly for the Romans.
It is not newsy to state that those who challenge power–not to protect their own, but to redistribute it–tend to end up on a cross of one sort or another.
Now it is true that scripture makes mention of crowds of Jewish people clamoring “crucify him!” I’ve always been bothered by the weird juxtaposition of the Palm Sunday crowds and the Good Friday crowds. ”That’s awfully fickle,” I’ve thought.
Some say that that’s the point, that one minute we assert our faith and joy in Jesus, and the next we wish he’d go away.
So there’s meat there to chew on, but Wylen thinks that there might be something more to it than just that.
He wonders whether they serve the same sort of purpose as the Greek chorus in plays, props to make a point and a counterpoint. That is, “all the Jews” were not at either event, but that the purpose of the crowds in the text was to reaffirm the main point of the immediate plot.
Unfortunately, points out Wylen, both the presence of this Good Friday crowd and the oddity of the Jews purportedly crying out “his blood be upon us and our children” (a reference that is itself in question–why would anyone request to be guilty of murder and have the same conviction be leveled against innocent children?) has made for a world of hurt in the history of the Jewish people.
So the questions for today concern the impact of history, and are posed particularly to the Christian readers of the day:
When we go to our Good Friday services, are we aware of the implicit anti-semitism in our own texts? When we are asked “Who killed Jesus?” is our first answer “the Jews?” Are we aware that the texts on this holy of holy days have led to vats of bloodshed against our Jewish sisters and brothers?
And how do we incorporate that truth into our Good Friday reflections?
More tomorrow on the implications of Jesus’ death in Christian theology, and why feminist theologians sometimes get a bit uppity about God the Father’s Son ending up on a cross.
And as an aside, I’ve gotten some fantastic questions which have been submitted on the website. My most wonderful twirplets are off from school until Monday. Come Tuesday, I’m on it.
Peace,
Anna
Posted in Christianity, Judaism, Uncategorized | 2 Comments »
Tuesday, February 9th, 2010
So I figure we’ve got a good thing going with the etymology kick. Let’s keep dipping into the well of http://www.etymonline.com/.
‘Question’ comes from the Latin quæstionem, meaning “a seeking, an inquiry.” The root of quæstionem is quærere, from where we get ‘query,’ and means ‘to gain, to ask.’ ‘Quest’ comes from the same Latin parents, but picks up an edgy sense of adventure in the 14th Century.
I think asking theological questions is an adventure, is a quest, of sorts. A regular Indiana Jones-esque pursuit, when you think about it. Lots of unexpecteds, a high dose of risk, and no small amount of thrill (yes, I know I have a low fun-threshold).
No guarantees on the romance.
A good friend and mentor of mine, Murray Haar, teaches me much from his Jewish tradition. Two nuggets I’ll pass your way on this winter evening.
First, he says that Christians are not just a bit anxious about questions.
Jews believe that wrangling about and with God, asking the questions, is sacred. It’s what you do when you are in relationship with God.
Christians, he maintains, get jumpy about them. We’re almost allergic to them. What happens if you ask a really good question? You might doubt! You might disbelieve! And what happens if in that very moment, you die?
THEN WHAT!!
I think he’s right.
And it’s not just a matter of what happens when you die, but who are you? What is your identity if you aren’t sure that you believe that Jesus is the Christ?
Even those of us from theological traditions sort of figure that we have the corner on the grace market really, in the end, aren’t so sure. For if we did, we’d don our Indiana Jones hats, put on our boots, and go. Whenever we’d get a chance.
Instead, I think we’re quite content to talk about faith and trust and Scripture and belief in God and act like we know what those naturally mean.
My daughter Else (pronounced Elsa) loves questions. Even at 5, she was asking the questions. For a while she loved to hear the story of Jesus every night before she went to sleep. So one night, after telling her (for truly the I-can’t-count-that-highteenth time) all about the women finding an empty tomb, and then learning that Jesus was actually alive again, and wasn’t that a wonderful way to fall asleep, knowing that life wins, that Jesus is stronger than death in the end, Elsegirl looked at me.
“Mommy,” she said slowly, “why didn’t the soldiers kill Jesus the second time that he was alive?”
Dang.
“Wow, baby girl,” I said. ”I spend most of my non-Mommy time thinking about God. It’s what I do. And I wonder about God a lot lot lot. And that is one question I have never wondered about, and now I am going to wonder it. A lot lot lot.”
Second Murray thought for the evening. After yeshiva, his school as a young boy, Murray knew the evening question would not be “What did you learn today?” but rather “Did you ask any good questions today?”
That’s cool. It’s a habit I now use with my children.
And one I share with you tonight.
What good questions have you asked lately?
Peace,
Anna
Posted in God's Relevancy, Judaism, Uncategorized | No Comments »
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